Life's a Party

My observations as a fannish lurker, pulled from various conversations and a few older lj posts. I figured I'd put them all in one place.

[describing Thor in Thor] He's like a Viking version of The Tick.

[describing Girl with the Dragon Tattoo] IT'S THE DYSTOPIAN GENDERFUCK JOHN/SHERLOCK AU I DIDN'T KNOW I WANTED.

[describing BBC's Sherlock] This is the most epic love story I've seen since I first watched The Fast and the Furious.

[describing Hailee Steinfield in True Grit] Imagine Benton Fraser as a thirteen year old girl in the old west, with no Ray.

[describing The Proposal] It's every work of Devil Wears Prada fanfiction ever. Only het.

[describing the Twilight movies] This is what True Blood would be like if it actually took itself seriously.

[describing Russel Edgington in True Blood] He's the villain from Pixar's Up!, complete with army of sentient canines.

[describing Jim Ellison in The Sentinel] He's the gay man's John McClane, complete with receding hairline and spunky, curly haired wife.


I'm working on some multifandom fic rec posts, for my own amusement. My favorite "dialogue/monologue/textual communication under the influence of alcohol/drugs" fic. My favorite "secretly the town bicycle" fic (it's like "secretly a virgin" fic only, you know, the exact opposite of that). My favorite "endearingly hapless creepy stalker" fic. My favorite "surprise alien/magical vagina" fic (not to be confused with genderswap). My favorite "preposterous superpower" AU's. My favorite supermodel AU's. I'm sure I could think of more, but I do want to post this journal entry at some point.


Happy New Year's Eve, y'all.

I was image searching on google for pictures of belly buttons when I traumatized myself (yeah, I know—that's what I get for googing navels).

And, because I'm such a good friend, I'm spreading the trauma around.

( you probably don't want to see what's beneath this cut, but if you're like me, you won't be able to resist looking )

I was going to post about the bread pudding I made for breakfast today. Something tells me this is the wrong journal entry for a food recipe.

So I had to have my left nipple stud taken out Wednesday. It was migrating. I distinctly remember the right stud hurting more than the left going in, so I suspect the reason the left rejected and not the right is that the left piercing wasn't quite deep enough in the first place. In any case, it's on its way to closing back up now, and in a couple months I should be able to get it re-pierced.

And now that I have posted this I am of course picturing you all wincing and clutching your bosoms in empathy. Well, mostly just clutching your bosoms—in my imagination I'm not really paying much attention to your faces.

A girl must find her amusements where she can.


So I've caught up on Merlin series 2.

It's come to my attention that Merlin fandom is terrible at naming things. I'm not just talking about fic, though most of the fanfiction in the fandom is given depressingly unoriginal titles. I'm talking about the fanon nicknames every other fandom I've been in has come up with to mock it's beloved characters. In Smallville we had LionEL and Lana-Fu. In Avatar: The Last Airbender we had Crazula and Penislord Ozai. In Torchwood we had Zombie!Owen. In American Idol RPS we have The Gay Alien from Planet Fierce. In SPN we have the Metallicar. In SPNRPS we named Jared's cock.

That is to say, if you Merlin fen weren't lying down on the job, Uther Pendragon would have assumed his rightful name of King Trollfucker the instant he ... what was that he did again?

Oh right—had sex with a troll.

And that is all I have to say about that.


Jogging is so much easier on a treadmill. I felt so in shape running for 20 minutes without stopping on my dad's treadmill over break, and now that I'm on a jogging path I'm back to feeling like a complete novice who can't go five minutes without panting like I'm dying.


Yes, you are correct in assuming this post has a point.

The most hilarious thing happened on Saturday.

I was on the bus fairly close to home, talking to a friend. I decided to get off because the bus was too loud to hold a phone conversation and I was only about a mile away from my place. After walking for a while, a car came up behind me.

Obnoxious boy #1 yelled out the window that I was beautiful. I rolled my eyes, said a semi-sarcastic thanks and continued talking to my friend over the phone.

Obnoxious boy #2 asked me if my feet were tired (with the unspoken implication that he'll be willing to give me a ride, of course, pun intended). I said, "I'm good," and again went back to my conversation.

And then. A third voice arose. A female voice, saying "I am so sorry. I'm sooo sorry."

This I had to see. I turned towards the car so fast I almost gave myself whiplash, because what? These losers actually had a woman in the car with them? I saw this beautiful Asian girl in the front seat with the world's most wretchedly embarrassed expression on her face.

"It's okay," I told her, trying not to laugh. I figure she was trapped in the car with either her endearingly stupid male college friends or possibly her endearingly stupid male sibling and his friends.

This event, combined with the event which took place earlier on in the day, wherein a guy told me I had a cute laugh after I cackled gratingly into the phone during a separate phone conversation, leads me to conclude that my new hair cut has given me sex hair, and I look like a million bucks right now.


So. You know. WIN.

My brain is a terrible place. I saw this news article and now all I can hear in my head is the voice of Maggie Gyllenhaal breathily moaning "I'm your secretary" while masturbating in an office bathroom.

Note: I'm kind of amazed at myself for being able to correctly spell her last name from memory.


I wrote the worst paper in the history Art History. Luckily my instructor took pity and gave us all an extra week.

I have the money to buy the ergonomic shoes I've been coveting. Only the shoes I have right now are pretty good, and I have a million other worthwhile things I could also be spending that money on. Or I could put it in my savings account. In any case, I need to get it out of my checking account before it all gets spent on overpriced food because I took the time to make myself a lunch only to forget it in my fridge for the second day in a row.

I am so tired right now I'm strongly considering giving up some of my culinary pretention and actually buying pre-grated parmesan because it's the only kind they cell at the corner store near my house and shopping anywhere that will sell me a decent block of Reggiano requires at least a mile and a half of walking.

On the other hand I haven't been to a Whole Foods in so long I'm starting to miss stinky French cheese like the deserts miss the rain. Not that I need to be buying any when I'm five pounds away from being able to sit down in my tight jeans without losing circulation.


Supposedly there should be a paycheck in the mailbox when I get home today.

::crosses fingers::

Speaking of fingers, I stabbed myself in one with a kitchen knife this morning. God only knows what I'll do to myself in welding class tomorrow. Wish me luck! Or a swift death!


I'm currently poking at notes for an original novel whose characters are in my head sekritly being played by Jared Padalecki and Tricia Helfer. I haven't decided if they're going to end up fucking in it yet, tho. I mean, they should. Because that would be hot. But if it's not working in the story I'm not going to try to force it. Nobody likes pasted on subtext. I've got Eartha Kitt in there too. Try to bend your brain around that one. See if you do a better job of it than I'm doing. Seriously, I have, like, no work done on this thing and it was supposed to be a nanowrimo project. I am so made of fail. Clearly I need to not quit my day job where I'm a part-time nudist.

Yeah, I basically had no reason for writing this post.


ETA: After seeing several interviews on youtube it has become clear to me that Robert Pattinson hates Edward even more than Kristen Kreuk hated Lana. Which is probably more hate than any single person can handle without exploding. Then again, Robert Pattinson kind of seems like he might be on the verge of doing just that.

And seriously, if he did explode? SPARKLY VAMPIRE CONFETTI FOR EVERYONE!!1!

Had a figure modeling job today. Was really tired afterwards. Drank a frighteningly supercaffeinated thing and spent a couple hours waiting for it to kick in. It kept not kicking in. Talked to a friend on the phone whining, "SOOO TIIIIRED, WHYYYYYYY?!?" whilst using the internet to estimate how many calories figure modeling burns (I assume a little less than what yoga burns).

Spent a good fifteen minutes of blank confusion before connecting the dots and realizing I have in fact burned more calories than I've eaten today.

FAIL.

Now I'm trying to figure out if I should eat at the overpriced Thai place nextdoor or go somewhere more reasonably priced but farther away. I don't really feel like Thai. But I also don't really feel like walking.

:|

:| :| :|

"So a canvasser goes to a woman's door in Washington, Pennsylvania. Knocks. Woman answers. Knocker asks who she's planning to vote for. She isn't sure, has to ask her husband who she's voting for. Husband is off in another room watching some game. Canvasser hears him yell back, 'We're votin' for the n***er!'

Woman turns back to canvasser, and says brightly and matter of factly: 'We're voting for the n***er.'"

source: here



I....

I love my country.

I woke up late. I ate breakfast. I slept some more. I went grocery shopping. I got Chinese takeout for lunch. There was a boy at the register. He looked twelve, but he was probably more like fifteen because I didn't give my name when I put in my order and payed with cash and he, I shit you not, put me down as "hot girl." At least, I'm pretty sure that's what was called out to me by some presumably non-English speaking employee before she handed over my bag of food. So either she thought my name was "hot girl" or she was describing the food and the Mandarin for "half a roast duck" and "oysters and pork" translates phonetically into "hot girl."

Oh yeah, then an hour or so later the checkout guy at Wallgreens greeted me with, "How you doin'."

Anyway, right now I'm at the Fine Art: Sculpture building pretending to work, but really just gathering fic to put on my flash drive so I can read it at my internetless home. Tomorrow hopefully I'll get some actual work in. Or, you know, a lot of actual work in. Since I'm behind and all. And possibly call my guitarist and try to do something about that band I'm in, like, you know, write lyrics, like I'm supposed to. He called me this morning and played me pretty music over the phone. Then he asked for feedback, and I struggled to put a sentence together while feeling pretty much completely braindead. This was right after I woke up groggy from my nap.

I like Fridays.

Or, you know, at my computer.

You know what would make my life? Patrick Stump singing "Chain of Fools." Actually, any Aretha Franklin. Preferably all Aretha Franklin. But mostly "Chain of Fools." And when I say 'make my life' I mean the awesomeness of it might actually kill me.

Come on fandom internets God Obi-Wan Pete Wentz. MAKE IT HAPPEN.


It is three thirty in the morning. I spent yesterday writing song lyrics and avoiding everything.

::loses at life::

lierdumoa: if I don't keep my hair in a bun
lierdumoa: it just expands as it dries
lierdumoa: growing bigger and bigger like a chia pet
fashes: you know what I'm picturing right now, right?
lierdumoa: me with a big green fro?
fashes: YIS
fashes: and just that perfect shade of 00FF00
lierdumoa: I'm reminded of spaggel telling me about her green haired friend getting a hair cut
lierdumoa: and having a mullet at one point in the hair cut
lierdumoa: and everyone laughing and calling him Captain Planet
permetaform: OH GOD
fashes: ...
lierdumoa: HE'S A HERO
lierdumoa: GONNA BRING POLLUTION DOWN TO ZERO
( Read more... )