• Blog your pepper progress. The first image in your first post will be used to represent your Glog.

Another bumper crop of misery and anguish, here's to a productive 2023.

A long time ago, in a youth long shrouded in layers of dust, I convinced myself that I loved peppers. I loved eating them, I loved growing them, I loved nurturing them and seeing them thrive.

It turns out that I was wrong.

No compassionate being with even a shred of empathy could commit the gardening atrocities which I have rained down upon something that they love.

Last year's harvest was a small handful of peppers, so I'm clearly not doing this to sustain my family or for any nourishment-related activities.

It turns out that literally the *only* logical explanation is that I'm a psychopath, secretly relishing in the anguish which exudes from every plant that I touch. It doesn't feel that way in my brain, but I'm a man of science and the evidence is irrefutable.


Oh yeah. Bask in that desolation.

My aphid minions are finally claiming victory over the last of my black jalapeno plants from last year. The carolina reaper gets an honorable mention for holding out the second longest, but it didn't even produce a single pepper so it can rot in the most desolate part of Hades along with HOA members and people who write EULAs for a living.

Of course, now that the last of my plants can no longer provide me with the paindorphins that I need to sustain myself, it's time for a new crop.

I've dropped 5 Sepia Serpent seeds (I've had them kicking around forever, no clue how they actually look once grown) and 10 more black jalapeno seeds into some moistened paper towel, and I ordered 10 Trinidad Scorpion and 10 Dragon's Breath seeds from Pepper Joe's, and I'll get those going when they arrive.

Trinidad Scorpions were actually some of the first peppers that I tried growing, back when they were the hot new thing, so it'll be nice to get back to my roots, as it were.

A more educated man, being paid educated dollars to listen to my less educated whining, may even draw a link between the trauma caused by ingesting those peppers and my irrefutable subconscious urges to continue inflicting pain upon pepperkind.

I raise a glass with you all! To evil!
Last edited:
Can you imagine trying to grow tropical fruits in a frigid wasteland and *not* being able to laugh at yourself? That would be the sign of a deranged mind right there.


Speaking of sadomasochism and its effects upon my mental stability, I have received my most recent order of seeds.



If the definition of insanity is doing the exact same thing and expecting different results (which is not the definition by the way, that's a terrible definition, a pox upon the houses of everybody that repeats that filth (except my house, which clearly has already been poxed)), then doing the same thing *but with an extremely minor variation* is, by definition, sane.

Rise, rise my pretties, and drink in the radiance of my sanity.
Alrighty ladybugs and germinants, we've got ourselves some plants growing.


I should clarify that I use these cut up plastic bottles with plastic sleeves over them as temporary humidity containers, not as their final pots. I've lost too many plants in the past that went from "oh they're perfectly lush and fine" to "I envy the inhabitants of Planet Arrakis" in the time between checkins.

Disclaimer: Despite these being temporary until the plants are big enough to survive slightly more neglect, I'm reminded of the adage "There's little that's as permanent as a temporary fix", which fully applies to everything I do.

Anyway, on to the plantinating.

2 Sepia Serpents so far, out of 5 seeds. One more is a day away from getting its own bottle, one more shows no sign of life, and the last looks like it's going to go the way of the mold. Having them share a container with the BJ seeds was likely not a wise decision with all the cross-mojonation.

2 Black Jalapenos so far, out of 10 seeds. The rest of the seeds aren't doing so hot. I should probably blame poor storage or preservation conditions. One or two more might make it.

... Also, one more *should* have made it, but some careless individual seems to have decapitated it while attempting to free it fully from its seed. Authorities have no further leads at this time, but the investigation is ongoing.

In happier news, some of the new seeds are already starting to pop.


So in summary, things are progressing nicely with the new seeds, and... not catastrophically with the old seeds.

I look forward to what this season has in store.
...The Sepia Serpent that should have made it no longer seems like a likely candidate.


The rest of the first container of seeds is likely a writeoff. The mold from the BJ seeds is overtaking all. If any more culture takes root in there, the next time I open it to check there'll be tiny little men sniffing perturbedly at me over their monocles drinking tea made from those fancy kettles and not even microwaved or anything.

I tried peroxide. I really did. Maybe I should've tried... per half oxide, or even per quarter oxide.

Oh well. Four out of fifteen should still be a passing grade, according to my extensive education in mathemagics.

The fresh and pretty seeds are doing ok at least.

And maybe... Just maybe... My SSBJs shall be cherished all the more for their rarity. Sure, they'll grow up isolated and outcast, not understanding why they're not like the other children, but like the ugly duckling, they shall blossom into their beauty amidst fire or blood after the other plants dump pigs blood on them at prom.

I think my metaphors are bleeding together.

I should go.
Weird. Some of these tomato seedlings are being born breech.

Every single pepper plant I've ever grown has escaped the seed root-first, then raced to get its cotyledons out of the seed before it dried and cemented over them.

These tomatoes are all willy-nilly. Some cot-first, some root first, some I don't even know.
Always interested in learning other people's methods, so... Whatcha got your seeds starting in there, and is it available outside of the Nostromo?

Good ol' paper towel & zip bag. Bottled water with a sip taken out. Squeeze of H2O2, blow up baggie and burp it daily like the little babies that they are. Laid out in the cabinet over my boiler. Pre-rinse seeds with H2O2. Some more bhut, reaper seeds and radishes.


  • IMG_20230223_144124491.jpg
    140.3 KB · Views: 47
  • IMG_20230223_143931040.jpg
    115.3 KB · Views: 41
Good ol' paper towel & zip bag. Bottled water with a sip taken out. Squeeze of H2O2, blow up baggie and burp it daily like the little babies that they are. Laid out in the cabinet over my boiler. Pre-rinse seeds with H2O2. Some more bhut, reaper seeds and radishes.
Sounds reasonable enough.

The edge pattern in your first picture made it look like you had some sort of super-futuristic bio-goop.

I was scared.

I was intrigued.

My lips said "no, no", but my heart said "yes, yes".

...What is ze secret of your French Dressing, mon petite cherie?
Last edited:
Well guys, call me a pessimist, but I don't think the rest of the first seed batch are doing so hot.



"They're just a little moldy, they're still good! They're still good!"

And I didn't want to spoil the surprise by announcing anything too soon, but I decided to try my hand at growing a strawberry.

I've gotta be honest, I never expected to see such amazing growth.


Wow. Just wow.

Last edited:
This poor little guy didn't exactly pop out of his seed thriving.

Maybe I need Cyndi Lauper to sing True Colors at him to get him to show a little green.
I'm already getting a decent collection of failures. Usually once they pop out of their seeds they make it long enough to start growing some extra leaves, but these poor little bastards took one look around their new home and have apparently decided to end things.


But these two seem to be doing pretty alright.



Two are doing alright.

Out of how many? Gosh, I'm terrible at all this.

I still have a bunch in that middle stage where they haven't decided if they're gonna sprout a set of real leaves or start their journey to Valhalla yet, but damn, it really makes you question your competence as an arborist.

Maybe I'm just mixing too much salt into the soil, but if I use any less then the smell of diesel is too overpowering.

Who knows, it could be anything.

Probably UV radiation from the neighbour's solar panels, everybody knows radiation killed the dinosaurs.

Disclaimer: No, even I don't know what I'm talking about. I mask my pain through the silly, and looking at my plants makes my heart say ow.

I've never had this many seedlings suck immediately after hitting the soil. Bad soil? It was some prepackaged potting mix.