Goblin Feed

It is the last of the daylight and it's time to get ready for going out in the boglands.   I've been napping and it's time to get all beautified.   I've built a fire and put some hot metal rods in it.  Now it's time to tangle my hair up in piles and use the hot metal to burn it until the piles of hair start to smell scorched and they begin to acquire a nice crunchy texture.  I repeat this randomly about the head until my hair is satisfactorily burnt and tangled everywhere I can reach.  Almost done.  Now I liberally add some slime so it becomes a solid mass and its perfection. For my face, I am a minimalist.  I use a bit of coal dust and some riverbank clay to make a paste and streak it here and there across my eyes.  I now look dark and threatening but I'm still missing something.  Wilderness.  Yeah that's it.  I'm still looking a bit too tame.  I take some powdered mud and dab it here and there, there and here and ru...

You know you're a goblin when... I am not arguing, I think that human's spawn are truly and aptly described as skin dogs.  I don't see what the fuss is in calling a kid a skin dog.  But then, I am a goblin over here.  Not to say this man is definitely a goblin, but I would be unsurprised if he was unmasked as one.  

I'm surrounded by soggy piles of tissues.   The air in my room is fetid. I've crumpled my sheets into mangled knots around my unenergetic legs. I've soaked them through with sweat and sadness.  It's too hot for a comforter but I lack the motivation to remove it. My clothes are all hanging in awkward crumply loops around my body  I'm eating nasty concoctions of boiled mushrooms, chickens, and a host of odd things that claim to be medicines all stirred up in a boggy soup. Uops, there is a soupy stain dribbled down my shirt. I sniffle cloggily and find that my lungs make a tired and unenthusiastic bagpipe noise. My hair has taken on a particularly fine pattern of knots and dishevelment.   My skin is looking greyish in the fragments of light that have filtered past my barricaded windows.  It could be noon or even 3 in the afternoon, but almost no light is coming into my caveroom.  It's dark and oppressive, just the way I like it. Perhaps I've come dow...

First, align all your sheets and pillows perfectly so that you can satisfactorily mess them up. Then add to the bed a collection of uncomfortable things to sleep on top of, books, laptops, paper, and pens, the harder and pointier they are the better.   Make sure some of the objects end up underneath edges of the blankets and some of them on top so you don't know where any of them are really. Then bunch up your blankets into the perfect nesting configurations.  Piled and heaped and knotted and only covering random portions of the bed.   Now clump and mush your pillows up into lumpy and odd shapes. Next pick your favorite object, such as a rusty screwdriver or a moldy turnip, and place it near the pillows so you can cuddle with it in the night. Throw yourself into this misshapen nest and flail about with your limbs until you are just as tangled amidst the pillows and blankets as they are with each other.   Now you are ready for the finest night of goblin...

You know you're a Goblin when you go to order pizza and you feel compelled to leave special requests like this: And the real tell is that they have a pet spider named Frank who guards the tomatoes.  I would like to know who tried to hurt Frank before; because that just seems rude.  Not so long ago at my house, a nice little hovel full of Goblins, we had a pet spider named Groot.  He guarded the roses against pests. 

Here is a nice gobliny sentiment for you.  Thank you to @TragicAllyHere for this beautifully swampy description.   I don't think we could be any prouder of her.  Such a great goblin.  We could all aspire to be a particularly rusty bucket with haunted bog water inside.