And apparently I've been nominated for a MOME award.
The Untitled Narcotic Fic of all things. I have a sneaking suspicion who might have thrown my name in the hat because there is at least one person who really liked that fic.
Whoever you are, thanks very much. I haven't had my writing recognized in a public sorta way since like 4th grade when my story about aliens landing in my yard got me a ten dollar gift certificate and a little red ribbon.

chrome is fucking amazing

If I'm not paying any attention to you guys and you've noticed and are more sad about that fact than relieved in a "whew it's nice not to hear from that freak for a while" kind of way, it's because Lady Dr. Gestures Wildly put me back on an antidepressant (for anxiety not depression though they dont make much of a clinical distinction for some reason, I don't feel sad, just nervous) and it's made me sooooo sleepy and soooooo groggy I haven't accomplished anyhting in a month. But we switch meds today so maybe soon I'll be lively again. She also put me on blood presure medicine finally. It's been in teh making for a year or so now, but twenty fucking nine, I eat well I exercise regularly I'm not morbidly obese and now I'm on antidepressants so it's not stress making my BP high either. It's just not fair. I've just become hypertensive for no apparent reason. >:P So anyway, I'm on that now too. A few years ago I was a vitamin popper only, now I have to have a freakin pill box with separators...might even have to get a bigger pill box soon. Stoopid body. So anyway, hey everybody I didn't forget you. Now I have to go pee again. bye bye.

I got this for my b-day: http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=11783622

I decided I deserved something completely superfluous and adorable this year since I don't think I've asked for anything fitting that description since I was twelve.

He is as cute as he looks in the picture.

and my mother has sent me a pre-birthday email AND has in some way submitted my name to channel 3 to have it announced via teleprompter at six am.

she's insane

and I'm getting old. Though the number 29 has little to do with that.

cut for tmi
( Read more... )

so where I thought I had just one giant zucchini it turns out I had 4, other three only slightly less impressive than the first.

But that's not the emergency. The emergency is I need to borrow somebody's dog. A really big dog. Someone walked into my yard today in broad daylight and pilfered all my beautiful lettuce. I had three or four big heads and they walked in and tore them to shreds.

who steals lettuce? fucking wankers. I hate my town, and my neighbors. The toothless guy who rides his bike all over and only owns 2 shirts seems nice, but creepy. I don't think stole my lettuce. He couldn't have made off with that much lettuce on his bike. And he has no teeth to eat it either.

So yeah. need big dog. and maybe a shotgun.

I just took a look around my garden. I wasn't checking it really closely cuz while my zucchini plants are huge, it seems like they only just started flowering very recently. But I have a zucchini in there that is, no lie, no exaggeration, three inches in diameter and over a foot long!!!

HFS

1. I just got a new pair of "running shoes". This is them: http://www.shoes.com/Shopping/ProductDetails.aspx?p=EC1059890&pg=5048850
They're even louder than they look in the picture. I don't know about "running" shoes though. I'm going to stick some inserts in them and see how it goes, but they're really not comfy enough for running for me. I may end up looking around for something else.

2. I just got a USB to SATA + IDE cable. Managed to retrieve all kinds of pictures and music off of 2 old hard drives we've had hanging around for ages. There is a third hdd that won't open up when connected though. Either it's some kind of master setting that's wrong that I don't know how to fix )since it recognises that it's there) or it's just kaput.

Which brings me to...

3. I recovered some old stories I wrote ages ago before I got into fanfic off one of the drives. Rereading them has affirmed something in my mind. I came to the conclusion about a year or so ago, that for most of my life as a child and as an adult, I was not really human. I think I've only just begun come into humanity in the past few recent years. I still consider myself a human in training today, since I started so late. Before, I don't think I had any real concept of anything outside of myself, any idea of what it means to be human, to be a person among people. I don't think that began to change until I was about 23 or 24, and reading fiction that I wrote from that era and earlier, there is definitely something missing from it. It lacks, for lack of a better word, soul.
I have an idea of what the catalyst for that change might have been, but it isn't a pleasant memory. But then that's what most literature has been trying to tell me for a long time now, it's those low moments that give you perspective and are the impetus for change, e.g., To Kill a Mocking Bird, etc. You have to have those times in order to grow up I guess. I just had mine later than most.

ETA: Oh also, I'm on page friggin 17 of Black Bottle. Took a little hiatus there cuz I was hating it but I'm back and it makes sense again, but this is gonna be another long one.

http://www.qwantz.com/archive/001011.html

( and now for part 2 )

 That's what I get for asking for a prompt - the never ending plot bunny!
Here it is.

Between the Sheets
Summ: AU.  Dom is a bit of a goody-two shoes with a galloping case of rotten luck. He has a summer job to help pay for Uni, but he hates it.  Orlando is the reason.  Action!  Adventure!  Dermititis!

Rating: ADULT
Warnings:  Orlando is a bit weird in this one.  I'm not sure who this Orlando is or where he came from, just popped out of my head and splattered all over the keyboard, sorta.  My apologies for my poor approximation of Britspeak, and as for the German, it was pastede together using a German-English dictionary, and Google translator.  Also, this didn't want to end.  I had trouble cutting it off where I did, seem abrupt to me,
Prompted by msilverstar.  Probably not what she had in mind, but I can't account for the behavior of my brain.

( Read more... )

I have a theory.

Gay men, real gay man, they look at me and they know instantly that I write fantastically contrived fiction about their 'tribe' and that's why they all give me that look of suspicion when they meet me.

What kind of girl has no male gay friends? I realize I live in a homophobic corner of New England (srsly it's really bad here) but still. I've met a few out guys and have still completely failed to be a fag hag. They all give me this weird look, as if they were being introduced to someone with an overt social faux-pas all over their face. The way my mom looks when she talks about the flaming gay man who came to her church once.

So...gay men look at me, the way my mom looks at gay men.
Now...I have met a handful of fandom girls and I knew them for what they were instantly too. I have to assume that gay men have developed not only gaydar to detect each other, but fandar to detect and avoid girls who are potentially going to ask them if she can watch them make out with their boyfriend.

I can't think of another reason for it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3PiZSFIVFiU

Ok, I've got a job for those of you out there that are listening.

I need a prompt.

Anything LOTRPS. Anything at all, throw it at me.

I realized as I updated my fic list for this year's lotrps remix that I only have one new story to add to it in the lotrps genre unless you count my remix from last year! Then it's a whopping two.

lotrps remix assignments are handed out very very soon, I want to add at least 1 more short one to the list so I don't BORE my poor remixer to death.

So lemme have it. What do you want to see?

xposted.
you can email if you'd prefer private sort of suggestions. paradoxymoron4242 gmail

funny: worst book ever written

http://www.amazon.com/review/R1LPA5YOND6TGD/ref=cm_cr_rdp_perm

Episode 706: Chafing.

Brought to you in Bridget Jones style.

Today went for usual exuberant running and walking trip. Bout a mile down to the highschool track, mile home, and I usually jog a mile and a half or so when I get there. Today was really stupid hot out. Sposed to be in the nineties all week, so today wore comfy little green shorts to go running and a tank top. Walking walking, it's hot as fuck but I legitimize it because it's either walk when it's ninety or walk when it's 4:30AM. Hot is better choice, clearly. Walked to the track, already sweating by the time I get there, but nice to wear short little shorts, get lots of air on the legs, not so sweaty down there. Arrived at the track and arrived at a conclusion at the same time. With short little short, fat things rub together. Chafing has begun. V. bad, but, I'm already at the track, Might as well run a bit. Maybe I will sweat enough that it will lubricate my thighs? Maybe?
When I get there there is already a cute guy with a cute dog getting ready to run too. They run twice as fast as me, stay longer and presumably don't have chafing problems. Thighs v. uncomfortable by the time I decide I should head home. Keep trying to adjust short without being obvious in front of cute guy and dog. The normally short and relaxing walk home is looking like a v. long distance while thighs continue to rub. Tools I have with me: bottle of water, my clothes, my house key. distance to cover: 1 mile apparent distance: 20,000 leagues. motivation to get home: high motivation to move legs back and forth: low. As I waddle back towards home I start looking for ways of easing the journey. Idea one: pull teh shorts down. I pull the down and stretch my shirt down to cover the gap and my underwear. shorts stay in place to protect thighs for a minute or two. Idea two: Long grass held between the hands and the rands rubbed together show that the grass will roll over and against each other, the hands suffer naught. Long grass threaded through the holes of my shorts didn't relly roll and lubricate in quite the way it did in my head. Removed grass. What is this burning sensation? Ah, invisible grass hairs stuck like filaments of fiberglass into my chafe wounds. Sand will cure that right? sand? Ah yes, that gritty feeling is much better - though not as soft as I imagine what with sand being such a close relative of talcum powder. As I walk bowlegged down the hill I pass the fishing spot where I could have washed the grass and dirt from my crotch area but what do you know there was somebody FISHING there. wtf. So on I trek home. Take a cool showere and run lotion into my poor fat thighs. Resolve to ger better jogging shorts. and check out cute man with dog more. v. nice legs.

First dose of Ambien tonight (haven't slept in freeking ages, can't wait to sleeeeep) plus first day wearing my reading glasses = I'm diiiiizzzzzzyyyyy and I look like a little old woman popping pills and wiping her glasses. I dunno though. we'll see if this Ambien thing is as cool as it claims. We'll see how long I can withstand it. yeah, cuz that's the logical thing with insomnia.

Ok, took glasses off. I feel drunk dizzy but not sleepy...

Isn't this the stuff that people say they've gotten up in the middle of the night (still alseep) and driven their cars?(still asleep)? At least its not like the last pill I was on that temds to make people's skin fall off, or the one before that that treats depression by making you suicidal instead. I don't even have depression.

Though this is kinda nice. Mike is putting the AC in the window and I have no responsibility to help him because I'm out to lunch.

I winder if any of this will make sense in the morning. I wonder if I should do liek when I actually get drunk and watch old cartoons

* I'm on page 16 of black bottle chap 10 with several to go, I think I'm about a third through.
* Do not use a wagner power roller to paint anything. It would be more effective to toss buckets of paint at what you want to coat, take less time, get the same reliable coverage, and you'd waste LESS paint that way than using the roller.
* um...nothing else to report.

First: a breif note from your reviewer.

I don't do the reviews much anymore cuz, you know, nobody really cares what I think about Schindler's List or Transformers the Movie (the old cartoon one). This I think is mostly because I never see current movies. I'm really excited to see the new Indiana Jones, but I probably won't until it's out on DVD because I'm really too cheap for the theater. So any movie I review tends to be old news; everybody has seen it by the time I chime in. But now and then I run across something that nobody has even heard of, a diamond in the rough, and I feel like I can put my two cents in there without boring everyone to death e.g. *squeee zomg LOTR!!!1!1!! 7 years late* Nobody wants to read that shit.

Anyway.
Zombie Strippers is the name of the movie. Notable cast is Jenna Jameson(pr0n mega-star) and Robert Englund(Freddy Krueger). Where can you see a movie with strippers, zombies, political commentary, and Nietzsche? Right here. Surely these are not elements often thrown together in a single movie. Even pairing them off two at a time would land you two odd movies, so you can imagine what sort of kitchen sink stew this movie is with all four. But the real stars of this movie are not the existentialism, nor even the occasional outburst of sharp wit, but rather the red corn syrup and latex splat-gore zombie violence, and the full frontal nudity. (It is Jenna Jameson after all) The full frontal, more aptly called full undercarriage nudity, they stick in your face within the first half hour of the movie, but sadly revisit it very little. It was nice while it lasted.

This flik starts out with some very big laughs, a little cheese, and then swings dramatically over to the boobage. It lingers there for quite a while until you kinda forget that you were watching a zombie movie. Then they remind you, show you lots more boobs, talk about Nietzsche, make LOADS of hilarious racist remarks about Mexicans, and then the boobage starts getting kind of gross and decrepit, the guys with the latex and corn syrup (and the cg guys) have lots of fun, then it's the end and you feel like you need a shower.

There wasn't much of a plot, so I won't spoil what there was, but I will tell you that if you like/can stomach gory (though often not believable) zombie violence, and lots of hot naked girls, this one is worth trying to find on the torrents or easynews whichever you prefer. (I doubt Blockbuster the Bastion of Civilized Cinema is going to have it. Like Walmart they don't allow smut on their shelves, but Gladiator, Die Hard, Rambo, Saw, and 300 are fine.) It's laughable, almost deep, and I intend to put it on my shelf if I can actually find a copy to purchase. This is right up there with Santa's Slay in my list of favorite low-budget silly horror movies. That's another good one to check out, though it has far fewer boobs.

my rating: four out of five silicone implants.