</span>Have you ever caused a planet to disappear?
I didn't destroy it, we just...can't find it anymore. Kind of like any/all of the following, which I think my hair may have eaten: Pens. Paper clips. Hairties. Books. Hairbrushes. Lost teeth. Library cards.
I deduce that...my hair ate a planet! No wonder it's been so full of body lately. Mmmm, minerals.
dioxin: I saw Batman Begins the other night.
I really want to be a ninja when I grow up. A ninja who marries Cillian Black.
It could happen.
liadlaith: cillian black?
don't you mean cillian murphy?
or is this like the lovechild of cillian murphy and sirius black?
dioxin: omg fandom and real life people are MIXING THEMSELVES UP IN MY HEAD and PROCREATING.
I need to get off the internet.
.....after I post this to LJ.
"My mother used to wake me up with 'Rise and shine, morning glory' every fucking day, like it never quite hit her that I'm more of an afternoon glory, or to be really precise, a 'sometime in the evening after the first two tequila shots have kicked in' glory." - deza
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More questions & answers here.
So I was standing in line at the bank waiting to pay my mortgage when it occurred to me I could multi-task and call my friends Mike and Amy while I was waiting. There was 15 people in line ahead of me and another 20 behind me, so I figured my chances of being one of those oblivious cellphone chatting assholes who holds up the line were pretty slim. I made my call, let Mike and Amy know that Noodle's last spinal tap came back free of blasts, chatted for 30 sec, then hung up. There were still 10 people ahead of me when I finished, so it's not like I was impeding anyone's progress. Then, this crusty rotten twatted old lady grabs my arm and starts bitching me out.
"Young lady, can't you read? There's a sign right there. You know it's people like you who make life difficult for the rest of us, blah blah blah, whine whine whine"
Apparently there was a sign that said something like "Help us make sure you recieve the best possible service-- please refrain from using your cellphone in the building" or some such happy horse shit. Like I said, it was a long line, and my little call conversation didn't effect it one way or the other, so I calmly turned to her and said,
"I'm so sorry. I was just calling the godparents of my 6 month old son to tell them the chemotherapy seems to be working on his cancer.... 'SCUSE THE FUCK OUT OF ME."
She turned white, closed her mouth and went back to her place in line.
Damn, that felt good.
What the hell is up with all these damned spiders?
Granted they have a right to live, I don't feel like doing Riverdance as I take a shit.
Get lost you 8 legged shits, I have no flies for you.
"Yes, but we don't call sex spirits, gonads, so I'm figuring there has to be an exception."
For the first time in a long time, not only am I not in a Harry Potter game, but I'm not even following any of the games I used to be in.
No offense to anyone I've ever RPed with Harry Potter wise, but by god, I feel free.
I am aware other people have itty bitty dogs; just, they're not what I think of. Hence, the notion of a dog cuddled up on an ace bandage strikes me as vaguely ridiculous. Sort of like when a cat find a box that is about four inches square, but it is a BOX and he is a CAT and cats sleep in BOXES so he puts all four feet in and plumps down, overflowing in every direction and looking, from the side, vaguely mushroomlike.
The image made me go to my happy place. :->
Unspawny> The ultimate game would be a game sorta like The Sims.
Unspawny> Except it would be called 'Angst'.
Unspawny> And you would see how many angsty people you can befriend, screw over, and then befriend again.
frog> you just described Livejournal: The Game
However, after fishing the third mosquito out of my cleavage whilst sitting on the back deck this evening, I begin to see the drawbacks of the tank top with shelf bra built in.
Really, if I wanted to have a parasite attached to my breast, I'd have had children -- or kept my first boyfriend.
jilesa, here, but that's the entire post.
I've known a few guys like that...
DUDE I TOTALLY AGREE. video games influence your real life all the time!
Like, after I played mario when I was little I would beat up my turtle because I knew it had coins, dammit.
And from the discussion of VD arose another item of stupidity. Apparently the number one cause of death in the wild west, up to 1890, was syphilis of the neck. How might one contract this horribly deadly disease? Why, by having prostitute chicken fights! If you're not aware of this practice, it's fairly easy to describe.
Chicken fights: you hoist someone on top of your shoulders, with their crotch pressed against the back of your neck. Your opponent does the same, and then you wildly run against one another, careening around the arena while the people on your shoulders fight it out. I remember playing it as a kid in the swimming pool. Sadly, no hookers were ever involved.
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QUICK, somebody call Lifetime. I think Shannon Doughtery could do this. She needs a job.
I'm on it...though I will NOT stand for having his babies in exchange for a free dinner for 6 or 8...unless this is like a cancer/AIDS/leukemia nonprofit or something, then I'll think about it
arana_suteshi: Yep! That's what they're there for. ^__^ They tell you how to eat, how to work, how to sleep, and how to do it. My last OB/GYN wanted me to have sex daily my last week of pregnancy because I WOULD NOT go into labor. She'd ask me every day, "Did you?" Yep. "Anything?" Nope. "Try again!"
For what it's worth, context.
Drama, dear, not angst. :P Seriously, I really hate that word. It means moaning and bitching and feeling sorry for yourself while not actually doing anything to solve your problems. But fanfic fandom has picked up on it and uses it to describe any situation where the characters have a problem they can't solve in four and a half seconds. And given that a plot is all about a problem, guess what? I really hate seeing people dismiss a story as "just angst" when it's got a really great plotline, not hokey at all, and proactive characters who are fighting their way through to the end. What could be better in a story? But "angst" has so many negative connotations, and is so often said with a superior smirk or a sneer, which is very frustrating especially since it so rarely actually fits the story it's been pasted onto. :/
Anyway, I doubt very much that Daniel (or Jack for that matter) is just going to throw his hands in the air and spend the rest of his life whining about the injustice of life. I have full confidence that you'll give us a real story, with a plot, and protagonists who protag and solve their problems. Not angst at all. :D
She reached into the cooler and pulled a beer out of the bottom. Chunks of
ice clung to the sides, and she wiped them off. As she opened it, she said,
"Actually, I was listening to you because I think nerds are incredibly sexy."
She bit down on her lower lip.
I'm sure I blushed, and said, "Well, on behalf of nerds everywhere, I'd like
to thank you for that."
"You're welcome," she said, as she set my bottle on the bar. I paid her and
got the hell out of there before my wit and charm started writing checks my body
"And the time for calling family is after the hurricane, when you can actually tell them something and not just give a melodramatic little speech about how "A storm's a-comin', Mama, and I fear I may perish. Tell Sissy and Beauregard that I love them so, and to think of me with fond remembrance whenever the wind whistles through the tall oak trees where we played as children, by the old farmhouse. Farewell! I shall love you always, even as I pass beyond this mortal veil!""
happydog: exactly. I have often been tempted to write a book called "Men Are Not Telepathic."
theferrett: We should be. We're from Mars!
happydog: Yeah, but I'm glad we're not, because then we would know the full, deep and undoubtedly horrifying extent and specificity of their lusts for elves and guys named Snape. There are some secrets best left unknown.
And there was much giggling.
"You were quite welcome to make any complaints at the appropriate time!"
"Appropriate time? The first I heard about it was five minutes ago, when a commenter came around to tell me. He didn't tell me straight away of course, oh no! First, he posted some pornographic drivel and traumatized me... /then/ he told me!"
"The plans have been on display in your local LJ entry for the last nine hours."
"On display? I eventually had to log in a different account!"
"Well, those are the display permissions!"
"With a special browser!"
"Well, IE never works."
"Neither did the community page style."
"Well, you FOUND the notice, didn't you?"
"Yes. It was 'on display' in a locked entry, stuck in a disused journal, with a sign on the page saying 'Friends-Locked Entries Only!'"