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xifengThis is, basically, a giant brain dump, because I can't be arsed to post on a regular basis. For that, I apologize. Perhaps I will manage to get my shit together by January.
l33: L33 HAS HAND-EYE COORDINATION SUPERIOR TO THAT OF A BRAIN-DEAD ZOMBIE AND CAN HOLD ON TO THINGS
The Universe: ERROR
The casualty list for last week:
+ One towel bar (broken for no apparent reason; I set a hand on it getting up from the shitter, but I didn't lean on it or yank on it).
+ Half a box of cornmeal (dropped when I was getting it out of the cabinet and the lid came off. The Quaker Oatsmen should take more pride in their work).
+ Small bits of epidermis on my left arm and face (splatter burns from when I was making dinner on Monday and misjudged how hot the oil was before adding ingredients to it; nothing that quickly-applied cold water and moisturizer couldn't take care of).
+ One bottle of Purell laundry detergent (the lid came off when I was scanning it, whereupon my register, the floor, part of the wastebasket, my left arm, and my pants were covered in the blue plague. Purell turns your skin green, by the way. I'm not sure what the chemical processes are at work here).
+ Some Cascade dish detergent (spilled when I was loading the dishwasher the other night).
+ A travel-size stick of deodorant--not actually ruined, but when I was bagging it, the lid popped off. Thank God for gracious customers.
+ The structural integrity of the middle finger of my right hand, sliced when I was tearing apart a cigarette carton and gave myself a nasty paper cut. Hand sanitizer and paper cuts don't mix, in case you were unaware.
+ A mouse. (I dislike rodents and am not sentimental about them; I don't particularly enjoy making them die, but it's them or us. We had mice in the house. Traps were set. BOO-YA, MOUSEY POUSEY. HOW YOU LIKE THAT PEANUT BUTTER?)
+ One of my wisdom teeth apparently broke or chipped. I can feel the jagged edge if I reach back with my tongue. I have no idea how this happened.
Also, due to a headline on the latest Cosmopolitan, which is about the Guide To Your Hoo-Ha (Get A Happy, Healthy Vagina), it is Reproductive Health Awareness Month. (I swear to God, it says "hoo-ha" right on the cover. Swear to GOD.) Seriously, we've talked about nothing else in the break room. We surreptitiously examined the article in question, which states, reassuringly, that Things Can't Get Lost Up There.
a.) Is this a concern for grown women? I mean, yeah, when you're thirteen and poorly-informed, you probably heard somewhere that tampons can get lost inside you and end up in your lung. But when you're 23? (Also, this is not completely accurate; it is possible for things to be left behind inside you, if you know what I mean and I think you do, but it’s pretty rare and unlikely to be a concern for most people. They will not, however, end up in your lung.)
b.) Cosmo seems to assume that its readership is college-educated and professional (in a high-powered corporate-lametard kind of way). How the hell can you get through at least a bachelor's degree and several years of real life without knowing how your genitalia work? Or is this yet another example of how Cosmo condescends to its readership? (I have to read Cosmo as comedy, or it makes me mad. And no, I don't buy it; I flip through it in the library.)
c.) Could we please knock it off with the infantilizing, cutesy-wootsy words for our body parts? I understand that you can't use four-letter words on the cover of a magazine intended for general readership, but seriously, the clinical term is unlikely to offend anyone. Some time ago (at least 6 months or so, not sure), Cosmo advertised an article with the words YOUR VAJAYJAY! splashed across the cover. When was the last time you picked up a copy of Men's Health and read the headline YOUR PEE-PEE!? Or The Complete Guide To Your Wiener? Never, that's when. Not to get all Andrea Dworkin about this, but the implied message is that 1.) we can't use adult language when we're talking about women's body parts, because women aren't real adults, and/or 2.) women's genitals are a scary and threatening thing, and if we use Cosmospeak for them, they become less so. Yes, it's important to be educated about things your genitalia can and cannot do, especially when you're sexually active or you aren't sure what's normal, and it's good that Cosmo is running articles like this, but the magazine-speak seems to send a different message.
d.) AND REMEMBER: Your cunt is not a black hole and tampons, sex toys, fingers, etc. cannot wind up in your colon, unless you put them in the wrong orifice. Or, possibly, if you have some kind of bizarre mutant fistula. I really like the word "fistula", by the way. Fistula. Fistula. FISSSSSStula.
+ I really need to learn to knit or something so my hands have something productive to do rather than conveying food into my mouth. I am feeling particularly self-loathing at the moment, and it would be 4W5UM if I could kick this fucking eating habit.
+ I am seriously considering changing my name. As in, like, my real name, in real life, as opposed to my Int0rbuttz handle. (I will, in all probability, be Wang Xi-feng until I die.) And no, I'm not planning to change it to Wang Xi-feng; that's a little too masturbatory even for me.
+ LOL AYN RAND. In the interest of full disclosure, I have never read Atlas Shrugged or The Fountainhead. I did try to read some of her literary criticism in high school, but it was the most horrible thing I had ever read (and I read a lot of horrible litcrit in high school), and I couldn't keep going past about 40-50 pages. Also, this was during my Communist phase, and...yeah. You see where this is going. I'll stop now.
+ I had this dream that I had gone to visit H and we actually did get to the foreplay but then I woke up in the middle of it and couldn't get back to sleep. WHY GOD WHY. YYYYYYYYYYYYY.
+ Also: ’tis the season!
Dear Sketchy Santa,
This year forChristmas Festivus, I would like at least one of the following things.
1.) Brutal, violent Elmo hatefic, preferably involving the Crimson Blight getting his come-uppance and being reduced to so much red fur. Around Festivus, when I'm scanning and bagging Elmo toys, and they tend to go off when I'm bagging them, and I have to hear Elmo's insipid little voice, I begin to get my hate on. Just sayin'.
2.) Star Wars fanfic, because I know people who can do so much better than the dreck on AFFN ("How May We Destroy Your Fandom Today?"). I want Vader/female OC, no penetrative peen, bonus points if they do not fall in love, and mega-bonus points if the writer can come up with some sort of explanation for this shit. [NB: I'm in the process of writing an entry about this.]
3.) If I am going to have sex dreams about H, and if I am then going to wake up in the middle of them, I would like to at least wake up because I came. (I am told that dreams are devoid of color and sound. I feel very sorry for these people, as my dreams have color, sound, and physical sensations.)
In return, I will set a six-pack of Bud out for you.
Love,
Wang Xi-feng
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uigenna: RAIEN. RAIEN. RAIEN. I have hopped on but not seen j00. Also, I have most of Friday and most of Saturday free (though I do have to work for a few hours in the evening). Just FYI. I do want to play with j00!
l33: L33 HAS HAND-EYE COORDINATION SUPERIOR TO THAT OF A BRAIN-DEAD ZOMBIE AND CAN HOLD ON TO THINGS
The Universe: ERROR
The casualty list for last week:
+ One towel bar (broken for no apparent reason; I set a hand on it getting up from the shitter, but I didn't lean on it or yank on it).
+ Half a box of cornmeal (dropped when I was getting it out of the cabinet and the lid came off. The Quaker Oatsmen should take more pride in their work).
+ Small bits of epidermis on my left arm and face (splatter burns from when I was making dinner on Monday and misjudged how hot the oil was before adding ingredients to it; nothing that quickly-applied cold water and moisturizer couldn't take care of).
+ One bottle of Purell laundry detergent (the lid came off when I was scanning it, whereupon my register, the floor, part of the wastebasket, my left arm, and my pants were covered in the blue plague. Purell turns your skin green, by the way. I'm not sure what the chemical processes are at work here).
+ Some Cascade dish detergent (spilled when I was loading the dishwasher the other night).
+ A travel-size stick of deodorant--not actually ruined, but when I was bagging it, the lid popped off. Thank God for gracious customers.
+ The structural integrity of the middle finger of my right hand, sliced when I was tearing apart a cigarette carton and gave myself a nasty paper cut. Hand sanitizer and paper cuts don't mix, in case you were unaware.
+ A mouse. (I dislike rodents and am not sentimental about them; I don't particularly enjoy making them die, but it's them or us. We had mice in the house. Traps were set. BOO-YA, MOUSEY POUSEY. HOW YOU LIKE THAT PEANUT BUTTER?)
+ One of my wisdom teeth apparently broke or chipped. I can feel the jagged edge if I reach back with my tongue. I have no idea how this happened.
Also, due to a headline on the latest Cosmopolitan, which is about the Guide To Your Hoo-Ha (Get A Happy, Healthy Vagina), it is Reproductive Health Awareness Month. (I swear to God, it says "hoo-ha" right on the cover. Swear to GOD.) Seriously, we've talked about nothing else in the break room. We surreptitiously examined the article in question, which states, reassuringly, that Things Can't Get Lost Up There.
a.) Is this a concern for grown women? I mean, yeah, when you're thirteen and poorly-informed, you probably heard somewhere that tampons can get lost inside you and end up in your lung. But when you're 23? (Also, this is not completely accurate; it is possible for things to be left behind inside you, if you know what I mean and I think you do, but it’s pretty rare and unlikely to be a concern for most people. They will not, however, end up in your lung.)
b.) Cosmo seems to assume that its readership is college-educated and professional (in a high-powered corporate-lametard kind of way). How the hell can you get through at least a bachelor's degree and several years of real life without knowing how your genitalia work? Or is this yet another example of how Cosmo condescends to its readership? (I have to read Cosmo as comedy, or it makes me mad. And no, I don't buy it; I flip through it in the library.)
c.) Could we please knock it off with the infantilizing, cutesy-wootsy words for our body parts? I understand that you can't use four-letter words on the cover of a magazine intended for general readership, but seriously, the clinical term is unlikely to offend anyone. Some time ago (at least 6 months or so, not sure), Cosmo advertised an article with the words YOUR VAJAYJAY! splashed across the cover. When was the last time you picked up a copy of Men's Health and read the headline YOUR PEE-PEE!? Or The Complete Guide To Your Wiener? Never, that's when. Not to get all Andrea Dworkin about this, but the implied message is that 1.) we can't use adult language when we're talking about women's body parts, because women aren't real adults, and/or 2.) women's genitals are a scary and threatening thing, and if we use Cosmospeak for them, they become less so. Yes, it's important to be educated about things your genitalia can and cannot do, especially when you're sexually active or you aren't sure what's normal, and it's good that Cosmo is running articles like this, but the magazine-speak seems to send a different message.
d.) AND REMEMBER: Your cunt is not a black hole and tampons, sex toys, fingers, etc. cannot wind up in your colon, unless you put them in the wrong orifice. Or, possibly, if you have some kind of bizarre mutant fistula. I really like the word "fistula", by the way. Fistula. Fistula. FISSSSSStula.
+ I really need to learn to knit or something so my hands have something productive to do rather than conveying food into my mouth. I am feeling particularly self-loathing at the moment, and it would be 4W5UM if I could kick this fucking eating habit.
+ I am seriously considering changing my name. As in, like, my real name, in real life, as opposed to my Int0rbuttz handle. (I will, in all probability, be Wang Xi-feng until I die.) And no, I'm not planning to change it to Wang Xi-feng; that's a little too masturbatory even for me.
+ LOL AYN RAND. In the interest of full disclosure, I have never read Atlas Shrugged or The Fountainhead. I did try to read some of her literary criticism in high school, but it was the most horrible thing I had ever read (and I read a lot of horrible litcrit in high school), and I couldn't keep going past about 40-50 pages. Also, this was during my Communist phase, and...yeah. You see where this is going. I'll stop now.
+ I had this dream that I had gone to visit H and we actually did get to the foreplay but then I woke up in the middle of it and couldn't get back to sleep. WHY GOD WHY. YYYYYYYYYYYYY.
+ Also: ’tis the season!
Dear Sketchy Santa,
This year for
1.) Brutal, violent Elmo hatefic, preferably involving the Crimson Blight getting his come-uppance and being reduced to so much red fur. Around Festivus, when I'm scanning and bagging Elmo toys, and they tend to go off when I'm bagging them, and I have to hear Elmo's insipid little voice, I begin to get my hate on. Just sayin'.
2.) Star Wars fanfic, because I know people who can do so much better than the dreck on AFFN ("How May We Destroy Your Fandom Today?"). I want Vader/female OC, no penetrative peen, bonus points if they do not fall in love, and mega-bonus points if the writer can come up with some sort of explanation for this shit. [NB: I'm in the process of writing an entry about this.]
3.) If I am going to have sex dreams about H, and if I am then going to wake up in the middle of them, I would like to at least wake up because I came. (I am told that dreams are devoid of color and sound. I feel very sorry for these people, as my dreams have color, sound, and physical sensations.)
In return, I will set a six-pack of Bud out for you.
Love,
Wang Xi-feng
uigenna: RAIEN. RAIEN. RAIEN. I have hopped on but not seen j00. Also, I have most of Friday and most of Saturday free (though I do have to work for a few hours in the evening). Just FYI. I do want to play with j00!
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no subject
Date: 2009-12-10 10:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-11 05:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-10 10:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-11 05:11 pm (UTC)ONE OF THESE DAYS, WE SHALL RP! *strikes pose*
no subject
Date: 2009-12-14 04:50 am (UTC)I wish I could get the courage to write Star Wars fanfic - any Star Wars fanfic! I mean, how long have I been obsessed with Star Wars and especially Darth Vader? If you do get Vaderiffic fic, let me know, because FFN and AFFN are hellholes when it comes to Star Wars fic, and most of the other archives I visit are older fic I've read a thousand times.
Welcome to the name-changing club! I've been wanting to change my middle and last names for a while now. Would you be changing your first or your last name, or both?
I used to subscribe to Cosmo. True story. I canceled my subscription because the insipid, pandering way they talked about sex and relationships bothered me. They repeat the same sex tips and "information" every issue. And the editors don't think to make their magazine grow up. They'd rather keep talking as if their readers are too young to understand sex and the organs involved, and ignoring reality in favor of really trite "advice." Screw that.
Most women's magazines are like that, too. It pisses me off. They're all about celebrities, tired sex tips, and beauty "secrets" most women figure out for themselves as they mature and figure out what looks good on them and what doesn't.
Can we have some Cosmopolitan hatefic, too? D
no subject
Date: 2009-12-14 06:56 am (UTC)Because your old seme loves you very, very much, and enjoys anything you write even if he is crap about commenting on it to let you know this, he thinks you should steel yourself and write him some Vader fic. Or I will continue to hold your Christmas presents hostage. ^_-
I'd be changing my first and middle names, after I paid down my debts (so it doesn't look like I'm trying to dodge creditors). At this point, it seems to be pretty much a foregone conclusion that I'm going to do it; life is too short to use a name I don't like. I'll be retaining my full first name as a middle name, since I find it far less heinously offensive that way (and also to avoid causing too much dissonance for people who know me by that name), but I'll have a new first name. (You can still call me Lee. ^____^ The lolmom went all "lol srry wil stil call u by original naem :< ", but in fairness, if I changed my name to Robert or Gerald, she'd still call me by my original name.) I have no beef with my surname, and the last thing I want is more paternal wank anyway.
(Every time I happen to catch The Empire Strikes Back, and Luke is all NOOOOOOOOO, I'm like, "Yeah, man, I know. That's how I felt when I found out, too." Except I'd almost rather have Darth Vader for a father, because he at least knew what he was about.)
I didn't know you wanted to change your name too. Remember that when lily-white girls choose Japanese surnames, they look like weeaboos. ^_-
I never subscribed to Cosmo, though from time to time I would occasionally buy an issue. This shit stopped when I opened it to an article stating that women should never display anger (trufax). Also, if you are going to advertise SHOCKING AND TABOO ACTS in your fine publication (suitable for wiping asses everywhere), perhaps the acts you describe should be shocking and taboo. When someone says "taboo", I think "massive incestuous orgies". I think "llama feces". I think "800-pound quadruple amputees farting in bathtubs full of blue Jell-O". I do not think "what-what-in-the-butt", which, while I personally do not find it particularly entertaining (for me, it falls into the category of Acts That Are Sexy To Think About But That I Refuse To Actually Perform), is not shocking or taboo to me.
I like Allure, but that's largely because it doesn't take itself too seriously and it skips straight to the beauty advice and the latest colors and toys without any of the other crap I don't want. Also, some of their essays are quite thoughtful.
COSMO HATEFIC Y/Y.
no subject
Date: 2009-12-17 05:50 am (UTC)Oh, man, you don't want to read my attempts. I mean, for someone who wants Vader tattooed on my body, I can't write him. He's too epic! I need to find someone's fic that makes him act epic, too, instead of just being an angst monster of epic proportions.
I'm saying a hearty "amen" to your, "Life is too short to use a name I don't like." I think your solution to the problem is a clever way to solve the obvious issue of people saying, "But I know you by X Name, so I'm going to keep calling you that!" (I'll be honest, I'd call you whatever you asked, but I'll always think of you as Lee. Just like I try to distance myself from my name, but you're always free to call me by my name because that's how you know me.)
(Is it sad that, much as I love my dad and have resolved most issues with him, I would love to have Vader for a father? Vader, not Anakin. Anakin, interpreted in canon, scares me. At least if Vader had shit with you, he brought it to your face - or your hand. He didn't start paternal wank. And he ultimately kills the Emperor for his son! That's paternal devotion, man.)
I'm not changing my last name to any weeaboo-ass shit. I have some ideas, but my last name change will have to wait until I find a name that I would like to give to a dynasty of cats.
If you don't mind me being nosy, what are you considering changing your first name to?
I haven't seen them say anything about not displaying anger, but I've seen plenty of, "THIS IS SO DIRTY, OMG" moments that are actually about girl-on-top positions instead of missionary, and I'm like, "Honey, that shit stopped being shocking in 1985." Shocking is cannibal porn and snuff films and the aforementioned 800-pound quadruple amputees. Shocking is the end of 1 Guy 1 Jar. Shocking is not masturbating in front of "your man." **pukes**
Agreed on the what-what. D: I find it interesting in a, "I will not engage in this act, ever," sense. The same sense that allows me to visit "alternative" sites like Gurochan. o_o
I stopped subscribing to Cosmo at first because they recycled the same sex tips issue after issue, and for someone ordering the magazine for the beauty tips, it wasn't worth flipping past all the substandard sex and relationship advice. Plus, when you're reusing those tired old standards, you're not bringing anything new to my fanfic-writing table, and I have no interest in continuing to even glance at the increasingly large sex and relationship sections of the magazine. So Cosmo and I broke up. Since then, every time I flip through an issue, I see idiotic advice telling women to maim themselves in the name of beauty, and giving vague, unhelpful commentary on our already misunderstood bodies.
I've never tried Allure. I love beauty magazines, but I only love ones that have makeup and beauty advice that I can use. A lot of what I know, I've figured out on my own; I would like a resource that gives me new ideas, and Cosmo is not it.
COSMO HATEFIC TIME. I'm going to have to work it into another fic. Write a whole fic about two characters ripping on Cosmo. XD
no subject
Date: 2009-12-17 09:27 am (UTC)I think the lolmom might have my old Oscar doll somewhere. I know she still has toys I played with as a toddler, which she was apparently hiding in the basement because she was afraid I would throw them away. (She had reason to be afraid of this. I am not sentimental about some parts of my childhood, which was simultaneously wonderful and awful.)
I so want to find an RPG where I can play him. With my luck, because I sure can pick 'em, I'd draw the attention of every Mary Sue within a three-mile radius. (The Dark Lord notes your insignificant boobies without much interest. Don't think you won't face disciplinary action for unapproved
cleavagemodifications to your uniform after we settle some Rebel hash.)My beef is, with my hated full name, that people assume I use a monosyllabic nickname (I do, but not the ones they're assuming), and they often decide to call me by these monosyllables without having the decency to ask first. Do not want. I'll be changing my given name to Leah and using my hated full name as a middle name (both to avoid causing dissonance for people who know me as that name and because I find it less horrible for me personally as a middle name), so you can still call me Lee. ^____^
(At least Vader had charisma and persuasion going for him. Plus, he was way sexier as Vader than as Anakin. Also, my father would never kill his boss for me. His powers are weak.)
I cannot take the Gurochan and the really extreme shit; I find it unsexy and thus avoid it. I'm not even interested in looking at it to see what it's about. There are things that I already know I don't like, and I don't need to see it in order to make this judgment call. Yes, I am close-minded. (And I'm somewhat jaded, because I don't find BDSM particularly shocking, but that's more or less guaranteed to french my fries; not many people consider their own tastes to be extreme or taboo. Though I guess for most people, bondage is "the fuzzy play handcuffs" and nothing deeper. Yukichi and I know better. ^_-)
Yeah, I have to read Cosmo as comedy or I'll become enraged by it. You know me. I'd suggest you at least give Allure a try--pick up a few issues at the library or the store, and see what you think. I'm partial to it.
I wish to see this fic, and will not allow you to jump on my bed until you write it. XD