My heart bleeded, girl

So there's a picture, which I'm not going to link to, because once you've seen it, it can't be unseen, of a girl with a humongous tattoo of Jared and Jensen's faces on her stomach. It's a huge-ass portrait that actually doesn't look anything like them. And it made me very grateful that I've always resisted getting a fannish tattoo. I would totally have had a yellow submarine and an NSYNC star somewhere on my body by now if I hadn't looked around Beatlesfest at the girl with the entire cover of Rubber Soul on her back, and thought, no. Don't do it. Although if they had a tattoo artist at Beatlefest, they'd make a fortune. And I'd probably have a little green apple on my shoulder, because hey, it's the Beatles.

Lois sent me a link about how the guy that invented the Magic Fingers bed died, and she said all she could think about was Dean. =)

We have a humane trap set in the living room, with veggies and a peanut butter sandwich, and I'm waiting for the raccoon to come on out of the chimney. If he doesn't tonight, we're going to have to call someone tomorrow. He hasn't had any food or water in two days, poor thing. Lois thinks I should be terrified, but I say, yo, it's only a raccoon, not a poltergeist. Unfortunately, I don't need the Winchesters for this.