October 21st, 2003


Not sure how they'd use a chainsaw, though.

technomayhem has something of a puppet obsession:

I'm reading the ChildCare Action Project review of Texas Chainsaw Massacre; for those who don't know it's a Christian movie site. my question is what is "open face kissing?" how the hell do you open your face? is there a special tool or button you use\press to separate the skin from the bone and open your face up? are there puppets in the movie? cause I can see puppets open face kissing.
K: Smile, K: Personal, K: My Friends Rock, Smile!, K: Sophie

(no subject)

littledevi: I had a dream last night that I was Scully from the X Files. I can't even remember that chick's name. Gillian Anderson. Right. So, I was Scully and I was being attacked by a very large, heavy man with a knife that was shaped like a crescent....

m_fallenangel: Weird about the crescent-shaped knife. Crescent knives and swords are very frequently wielded by the bad guys in my dreams. It's almost become a trademark.

littledevi: Are you Mulder in your dreams?

m_fallenangel: No. I always stay pretty much a coherent, functional human being in my dreams.
K: Beaded, K: Eeep, K: *huff*, Red Panda, K: Desperada

(no subject)

"Safety Razor" my ass. Triple blades of death. That's what that damn Mach III razor is. I have three finely-sliced strips of skin, each slightly deeper than the previous, hanging from my left index finger. Why? Because Safety Razors are a goddamn myth created by Gillette to fool average consumers into purchasing their benign-looking death machines. At least a straight razor doesn't lie about its deadly capacity to cut your finger to the bone and, in one way, it's much nice about it since it won't flay your flesh in the process. I'm convinced that Gillette is a company run by evil aliens who are trying to put simple and safe-looking murder devices into the hands of all humans so that, over time, we'll end up killing our selves with these ALIEN SAFETY RAZORS FROM PLANET X!!!

-- farix_arkwright

I think I'm going to take Adolescent Literature next semester. Now, I'll admit, when I saw that in the course catalog, I snorted and said, "Yeah, like I'll ever take that." Visions of Christopher Pike books wreaked havok in my head. Silly me. My current prof, who is The Cool, told me and the other Real English Geek in our class about it. She's teaching it, and the class is going to focus on banned books next semester. Harry Potter, Huck Finn, The Catcher In The Rye. Like I can pass up the chance to study Harry Potter in a classroom environment. I just hope I don't burst out with something embarrassing and slashy, like, "OMG! See? Sirius and Remus are SO doing it!" or "You know, I think the Weasley twins tag-team screwed Oliver Wood." I don't think that would bode well for my grade.

-- eiluned

(no subject)

The best was my confusion with gay sex. I thought two men together meant they would fight their penises like they were swords. The sad thing is, I told people in my class that, and they believed me.


Sometimes I've growled at poor Lorraine.

Her: "What you do want to drink?"
Me (in the saintly tones of the soon-expiring): "Anything".
Her: "How about a lemon, ginger and honey drink?"
Me (even more saintly and further from this world): "Anything."
She goes off and makes a hot drink, carefully adds ice cubes to stop it being too hot, brings it upstairs.
Me (on the point of death, like a perfect Victorian child): "Thank... you..." (Takes one sip. Stops sounding saintly.) "Ow! That hurt! What the hell did you put in here? Lemons? Are you trying to kill me? Why didn't you warn me you were putting lemon in this nightmarish concoction? Oh you claim you did, you, you Lucrezia Borgia of assistants! Ow!" and so on.

For some reason, she hasn't murdered me yet.

K: Eeep, Eeep
  • kielle

(no subject)

Forgot to mention that I saw Henry VIII the other day. Sean Bean! Tenderly cradling wounded nuns! And then rabble-rousing, and facing down the king, and being pawed by a ton of drunken soldiers remeniscing 'round the bonfire, and then a suspiciously familiar death! There's a sword fight 'gainst several enemies, multiple puncture wounds from nasty arrows, and a 'bollocks that's a lung' look of panicked incredulity and a final flail with the sword.

And then there is the quasi-crucifixion with bare feet and pained gasping and the blood. It should not have been hot, but it was. Oh, IT WAS.

-- hisgreyeyes
True Blood - Eric

I'm amused way too easily....

Vanilla Pepsi tastes like shit. And it smells like anal sweat. Way too much vanilla in that stuff. The vanilla should be subtle, not smack you upside the head until you're unconcious, then run off to have sex with your lover.

~ userinfodarqstar in a comment to a post in her own journal. Heck, the whole post is pretty funny....
  • Current Mood
    giggly giggly
sunday in the sunset leaves

this is just great...

It's also what happens when you've got a Discworld RPG that lets normal people interact:
Because of the "in" added on to it, inflammable actually means very flammable or more flammable than flammable. But because flammable means able to be set on fire, and one can't get more able to be set on fire (er, set-on-fire-able is set-on-fire-able, after all), inflammable and flammable both just mean able to be set on fire.
--ponderstibbons, here. (The rest of the thread won't make a bit of sense unless you've been following the RPage for a while, though...)
  • Current Music
    "We Gotta Get You a Woman" - Todd Rundgren

(no subject)

Our house is being invaded by pumpkin beatles - the bigger, orange cousins of the ladybug - just like every other fall.

Perfectly normal, but I still can't guite shake the fear that one night they'll join togething into one super-bug and cocoon us in our sleep for later consumption.

Evil Manifest
  • kdorian

(no subject)

city_of_dis used to be phone psychic, till burnout hit...

M-A: I see. I think, Charlene, that we should really consult the cards on this one.
M-A: Yes, the Tarot cards.
CHARLENE: Oh, I can't do that. I been saved by Jesus.
M-A: Oh, it's perfectly fine. These are Jesus Tarot cards.
M-A: The Beatitude Deck. Jesus approved.
CHARLENE: That in the Bible?
M-A: Sure is. The Gospel of Enoch. Chapter 22, verse 15.

The entire post is in customers_suck in this post.
[me] less revealing than you think
  • yueni

Phildos, anyone?

From cherryscott's post:

Yes, for only $17.95, you too can turn your cellular phone into a vibrating sex toy!!

Okay, maybe it's just me, but walking around in public with my cell phone stuck down my pants is not exactly what I would call discreet. Not to mention that I doubt it's a good idea to have your cell phone that close to your crotch. Aren't people always yapping about cell phones causing brain tumors or something? That is definitely not something I want down my pants, thankyouverymuch.

But just in case you don't mind getting some sort of funky tumors, these things come in "four fabulous colors!"

And the comments:

peppervl: But my phone already has a vibrate mode. I can just stick it down my pants and use my house phone to call it. Then I can still get the sensation and save the $17.95

cherryscott: But I don't think that's as sanitary as the little rubbery sleeve thing with the "phildo" attached to it...

peppervl: Sanitary? What's the fun in sanitary? I mean, hell, I'm already gonna give myself cancer down there. Why should I be concerned about sanitary?

cherryscott: ...... Good point.
  • Current Mood

(no subject)

I have met someone I am utterly taken with! I did not think such a dapper gentleman could be found amid a sea of lecherous creatures. Is it entirely wrong to fancy a skeleton named Jack, who prances and frolics about in a pinstriped suit, singing in quite a voice, dark a brooding in demeanor? Jack Skellington gets my panties in a knot let me tell you. I’m all hot and bothered for his snowball-esque head, his spider like arms and legs, and oh, that smile! I swoon for thee. You repeatedly ask, dear Jack, "What’s this?" I tell you, sir, it is true love!


Because we all know it's true.
  • eiluned

(no subject)

etoilepb: Also, bought a LOTR bookmark this weekend that came with a One Ring attached. Lo and behold, it's *exactly* the right size to be a pinky ring on me. Now it is no longer on the bookmark. Think for geek purposes I may put it on a silver chain and wear it to watch LOTR movies. Subtle and geeky all at once. Yes, precious. Precious will be ours. (Is no fun wearing it as I remain all too visible and powerless. On the other hand, lack of evil-that-does-not-sleep-lidless-wreathed-in-flame-eye chasing me down is a definite plus.)
  • Current Mood
    amused amused

(no subject)

Hi. First post, from linzeestyle

I've come to a conclusion. Clearly, the correct field of work to go into is dentistry. Dentistry for an insurance company. Where else can you slap on a pair of gloves, poke someone in the tooth, leave, and then get paid for it?

After nearly choking to death on an piece of cardboard/"x-ray shield," and having our dentist (hatefully affectionately refered to as "Hit and Run") poke at my right canine tooth - despite the fact that the left wisdom tooth is the problem - I have been informed that all four of my wisdom teeth need to be forcibly yanked from my skull. Apparently he thought there would "be room for them," but since the bottom left one has only come in half way hey, what the hell, let's take them all.

He seemed far too pleased by this prospect. I suspect he really works for a dentist's black market, and was sizing up my incisors. While I'm unconscious he's going to take them and replace them with cheap styrofoam substitutes, and sell the real ones to rich toothless people in Asia.

and back again...

from skywaterblue

schmitt said something about breaking keyboards, which reminds me of my own experience with the breaking of keyboards. Economically, next to the mouse they are the best thing to take your rage out on.

Plus if you're like me, when they bust open, a shower of bread crumbs and dried rice will fling at you like some sort of demented wedding shower.