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That's right y'all, I'm back in the saddle! Dust off the cobwebs, crack open the champagne, someone give me a girl to kiss 'cause I'm back from the war!

After four months of having a craptastic computer, even getting the adapter/battery problems fixed, it still worked like a Alzheimer's patient on a non lucid day.

But now! NOW, I have a brand new computer, with built in damn near everything it seems like, so I'm ready to take back the world I've been without for so long. BRING IT!

*looks up at the list*

Damn... okay, that dampened the enthusiasm a bit.

So, yeah, I've a lot to catch up on. Various reviews I've wanted to do, the whole of the Flash Fiction Meme I made but only made to Day 9 on, various updates on various writing projects that have gone... in directions... movement at least... and some other ramblings. Aweseomesauce.

But yes! Back. Yes. Let's do this.
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Quick hit: I am SOOOOO far behind on the 30 Day meme, but I started it the month I forgot I had to travel to my parent's place for my sister's graduation. That by itself isn't much, but they have crap for internet out here. Too slow for anything decent.

And I've been busy.

Burning a pig in an inferno (it makes sense in context).

And the next few weeks look to be busy too. But I'll catch up on the meme and everything else as soon as I can.
ravenswept: (Here's Cookie)

For some reason I am just not feeling it lately. Maybe it's the whole "life" thing that's still stuck in standby mode, but I should be able to kick myself moving on my own.

I scrapped the last outline of Butterfly Massacre again. Something about what I had just wasn't gelling right, and a few events I had that were needed weren't meshing well to what happened later, so I'm keeping the bullet points and letting everything else go. I know what needs to happen; or what will happen. But getting those spaces inbetween are being a pain in the ass to pin down.

I should probably expand my reader base (of those I read as well). The reviews I've done are a lot of fun, yelling into the ether and all that, but I'm thinking of moving them over to Uneducated Opinion and finally get that little hair-puller going. It seems weak to have a wide spread of genre, instead of focusing specifically at a certain medium of some sort, but my interests just don't focus like that. Besides, as the title says, I'm untrained. I didn't study any specific type of anything, so I guess I shouldn't limit myself to what I enjoy talking about.

I'm refining a new 30 Day meme. Hopefully I'll have it posted tomorrow (just in time for someone's birthday).

Speaking of reviews, I still need to do that last Young Justice episode. I just kinda fell out of that. Good thing that they stopped airing new episodes for three months, huh?

Guh, going to go lay down. Brain not wanna worky right.
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I'm not late to this party, just fashionably after hours. That, and I needed to figure out what my "rules" were, because it's not something I've thought heavily on before, but it makes sense to find out what they are.

1. While there are few, if any, truly bad ideas, that doesn't mean everything is meant to be written.

2. Know what and why you're writing.

3. Just because others have done it before you doesn't mean you can or should yourself.

4. Keep yourself open to ideas from anywhere, but know when to close yourself off so you don't overload your story.

5. Popular does not equal good. Good can stand on its own.

6. Reason and/or internal logic far outweighs throwing up the horns and screaming "OH YEAH, THAT'S AWESOMESAUCE" while a metal guitar solo plays in the background.

7. Keep a small notebook handy, you never know where that fleeting idea might be able to go.

8. If a story only has so much gas to go so far, don't decide to stop and push it a few miles in the middle to get a little extra distance out of it.

9. Tropes. Trope trope, trope trope trope. Trope-a-lope. Trope-a-nope-a-dope-a-pope.

They have their place, can be fun (for some), and may help when you're stuck; but don't rely on them for all your ideas or as something you have to mimic, replicate, or follow as the rule. Tropes (as tropes) are for after the fact, not to plan for.
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And now allow me to immediately backtrack from that statement. I do understand the mechanics behind getting shitfaced. Also, I'm not a prude in any way, I do drink myself, though not heavily or very often. I've never said to myself, "I'm bored; well, might as well go drink until I confuse the ceiling with the floor." Nor have I gone out with the intention of drinking until I no longer could get myself home without assistance.

But what I don't understand is people who, knowingly, let themselves get to that point. Who say, "Ima gonna get crunk!" and then proceed to do so. I get what it does; you lose hard control of your senses, so everything is muddled and "awesome", at least until it catches up with you and becomes "less awesome". To the point of being sick; actually past that point, to the point of bad hangover. Why do that to yourself? Personally, I hate that feeling of not being in control of my senses. Almost as soon as I realize my vision is starting to motion-blur on me, I cut myself off and hit the water (or soda). Because I don't want to be "that guy" who can't stand up or walk straight. When the bar cuts you off and security mans the bathroom while you find religion and worship at the porcilien alter, you're bad.

I do make allowances for people who are having a legitimately good time and just get carried away. Having fun can get away from you, so I'm not condemning all who get drunk sometimes. It's the one's who make it a goal.

What brings this all to mind is, I went to a bar last night. Strange for me, since I normally don't really do the bar scene. At all. The only bar I wish to frequent as often as I do is not so much a "bar" as it is an video arcade that sells booze after a certain hour.

Back to storytime, it was my roommate's sister's birthday. She came down from hometown to party it up Portland style, and brought with her one girlfriend and two other friends, also girls. Roommate had his boyfriend. I had myself, but I'm used to it and it wasn't a big deal. The party started around 4:30 or so, mainly just a lot of joking, telling stories, roommate and sister being hilarious when together, and vegan pizza. Also, four bottles of wine was downed. Around 8 or so we all headed down to the Sunday night drag show at the big gay bar in town, because nothing says "Happy Birthday Sis" than watching drag-queen after drag-queen lip-sync to songs you've only heard on classic lite-rock and soundtracks of 70's and 80's movies.

Really, it wasn't that bad as I make it sound; some of them are talented at what they do, and when they stopped singing and did some standup routines it was freaking hilarious. There was really only one who didn't seem all that into it, maybe she'd been doing it too long to care any more and it was routine for her at this point, since her only move was "slutty deep knee-bend step" back and forth while you watched her mouth move but never felt the voice you heard could maybe be coming from her. At least the good ones put energy behind it, or just sometimes forgo the whole thing to let out a queeny insult or two at the audience. And then there was a small bit by some actors from group doing a play called "Mommy Queerest"; yes, it's exactly what you think it is. And it includes a song, song for the locals, called "All That Jiz", a nice little parody from the Chicago songtrack. Good fun.

Being the drag show was at a bar, drinks were to be had. I had all mine bought for me; not because I'm good at getting then, but because I be poor, and the group I was with was cool like that (and didn't at all want to see me "loosened up" after learning I didn't drink often). I took my time, really making all three last me a while, while the others really went at it; not shot-after-shot or nonstop, but they didn't stay dry long. I was given keys pretty early in the night, since I was most likely going to be the only one drivable.

The night was fun, the girls had a hoot shoving ones down the cleavages of the drag queens, and drinks were drank. Sister, who's birthday it was, seemed to finally run out of fun; she really slowed down and was quiet and leaning against her girlfriend's shoulder for a bit. Then she disappeared to the bathroom. For a while. Yeah, when your girlfriend comes back looking for her brother with a no-joking face on, you know the night's done and it was time to close shop. I don't know if she puked, but she definitely dry heaved some. The most I could do was when I saw the girls holding her hair over the sink was get some rubberbands from the closest bartender and pass them on to them.

Yeeeaaaah, she really needed help walking. It was good night, depending on how you looked at it. All the females piled into their car, one of them was the double-D and was able to handle the wheel, while the sister just looked miserable and I could only guess how'd she feel the next morning. I took roommate and boyfriend home, getting plenty of "Driving Miss Daisy" comments, as well as some messing with me while I drove, but they weren't bad, just that annoying drunk that's funny if your drunk as well, but not to anyone else really. Got home safe, everyone heads to bed, and I get the last laugh when the next morning I'm the only one without a headache.

Getting back to my original point, I understand this kind of night. It's fun (until it's not) and there's people to help take care of things (and you) and it may not have gotten to that point, just water wasn't spaced between drinks enough (or thinking about it, at all). But I still don't get people who make that their night's mission. The ones who aim, and achieve, that point of not being able to take care yourself.

Maybe it's because I'm just not that much a drinker (which several people have told me that means it will be hilarious (for them) when they finally manage to get me to that state) and stop before I ever reach a point I can't. Because I don't really like the taste of much wine and almost no beer, I just haven't been subject to consuming until I can't. Frankly, I'm okay with that. I can get headaches all on my own, thanks, I don't need the help of anything else. I'll drink to enjoy, but still make sure I am enjoying myself.
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Okay, just so you know, I'm not dead. I just haven't been feeling posty lately. I've got RL worries. But still, a little distraction now and then isn't bad.

And it's not like the RL stuff is terrible at the moment, I'm just feeling very anxious about everything. I want it the way I want it now, and the sooner I find out how it'll all work out the better (hopefully).

But I do have a couple of posts I need to get to. There's actually a list to.

  • Latest Young Justice episode review

  • A full review on the new My Little Pony show (I might as well)

  • I still have a couple writing projects I haven't talked about yet

  • There's still a post on DreamWorks Animation I need to work on

  • Change the band's name to "Something, Something Explosion"

So yeah, things to look forward to, eventually. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to stare at my phone until I get that callback.

*Edit* Oh yeah, Happy V-Day for those that this isn't a depressing holiday for

*Edit: The Sequel* Oh yeah! (think the Kool-Aid version this time) Got my callback, made it to the second interview!
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I hate having to take my computer in for service. Seriously, who the hell sees a new anti-virus update they've never seen before appear in their icon box and say "hey, I didn't know I had that, I'll just press okay!"

But I hate not having my computer, I feel so disconnected. Read into that what you will, but it and the internet is a part of my life that I'd rather not do without right now. But it was only for a day so I managed.

It helps that I have a new toy to play with, my new Android phone. While I was up at my parents' the whole family upgraded phones. I am now an owner of a touchscreen Fantastic, which has an internet data plan allowing me to be on the net anywhere I am (and it is as well). I don't like having to write long messages of any kind on it, as the screen is small and it's time consuming, but I can when I know what I want to say.

Other than that, I've got a post or two in the wings of stuff I want to yap about, writing and what not.

I found this Deviant trying to find a different specific picture. I don't know about the full costumes, but good god, check out these masks. Damn.

Also, this is my new background.
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Crap on a stick. I think I disappointed someone I'd have rather not have; they're good sports about it, but I still don't like not living up to my word when I make it. So I figured I'd drown my self-induced sorrow in television.

Expect I don't have cable or satellite.

...okay, techinically I could indulge in what I can find on the internet (two seasons and eight episodes of Top Chef down, six more to go) but that would mean I don't post about the kinds of TV I like.

To the ever annoyance of my parents, I love television. Not to the point of all else, I do read and get out often, but sometimes all I want is to veg and marathon a show or two; the ability to buy whole seasons on DVD helps this, but some stuff isn't out yet... or ever. I'm neandering, the point is I watch more than they'd like me too, have since I was young. I blame the stories; I fall into the adventures and characters I see, becoming a fan of many shows until it seems I can't keep up with them all.

I've already many times over talked about how much I love animation, so I'm leaving that alone to talk about other things; scripted hour-long series, and a bit of competition shows.

One thing I've found about my viewing habits is that I tend to like shows where I think I'm learning something. Not being tricked into anything, but that says that if I watch this enough, and emulate what they do, I too could be a professional >whatever<. So shows that are hour long drama sitcoms (your Gilmores, your celebrity paperazzi) don't do it for me. Some can be interesting, but what they do is often more drawing that the characters they try to impress upon you.

What I'm really into right now; Burn Notice, Leverage, House, Law & Order, Top Chef, Chopped a few others I can't think of at the moment.

In a way, you really can learn a lot from watching the shows. I've watched so much L&O that I could fake the profession, and have often been asked by friends to go through legal options based on my television legal knowledge. The thing to remember about what you learn, however, is that you need to check what you know. Just because they say or do it in the show doesn't mean that it's real (or legal).

And that's been a real problem for people in the actual professions. Because of CSI, courtroom lawyers are dealing with more and more armchair technicians. They think that the high tech offices and labs they see on TV are how it really goes down, that tests can be done right then and there and results come in just after lunch and that the people who handle the evidence are the same who investigate the crimes. They want to see more physical evidence, more bloodwork and hair samples and fingerprints and more and more things that aren't that simple in real life. What people who don't think things through don't realize is that often labs are off-site, independent entities are that are so backed up by the time they get to running the labs the case could already be to trial, or even already over. There's a reason that trials are often months after a crime has actually been commited.

But that doesn't stop me from remembering as much as I can. And I constantly check things or watch real docu-shows that show the real thing, so that I don't fall for Hollywood magic. House? The vast majority of that show is wrong, from procedure (you do not shock a flatline!) to testing to diagonose to the illness itself. But taken with a grain of salt, and you can learn a bit of medical knowledge; just don't let it go to your head.

Some shows fake or fudge the real deal for legal or liability reasons. Burn Notice and Leverage deal with ex-spys and con-men, two professions whose vast majority of work is illegal or can't be talked about (or they will kill you). But stll, there is much to be gleaned. Disregard 90% of the how-to-build-this stuff in BN, and they show you a lot of good military tactics for episonage and warfare. Accept that people aren't going to behave the way they do on TV, and Leverage can tell you how to manipulate people a wee bit. Everything with a grain of salt though.

Competition shows are awesome because the people on them actually possess the skills (you know, to varying degrees) it takes to make whatever the show's topic is. A cooking show is going to have real cooks; or really bad cooks, as is the case of Worse Cooks in America. An art show is going to have real artists. Sometimes the people can't produce, but that's the name of the game, put up or shut up.

What I learn I apply to my writing. I may not be an expert in any single area, but enough general knowledge can get me by most of the time. Should I need more, I can research it or find someone who lives it and have them help. I'm not just making stuff up; all the time. I do, but I also make sure it has a basis in reality (expect for when it's not or can't be "real"). And what I make up I double check to see if it's even plausible. The DaVinci Code was hailed and marketed as being "real secrets" and real mysteries. Bull. Shit. Dan Brown made up 99% of the crap he wrote, and other 1% was lies. Almost every single Bible reference, location, name drop, profession title, logic was idiotacy.

But the show needs to be good itself, not just telling you something. I said I may give it a chance if I like the background enough, but if even that is fubared then there's little reason to keep watching. American Chopper, when it first started, was a good show about a father and son building motorcycles. I learned quite a bit about automotive works, machine shops and the business behind it; and the bikes they made were often exciting and dramatic. But more and more as the series went on it became about the drama of the people, the fights, and the bikes were just what spun in the center. I lost interest because I don't like personal drama being the grounds of having your own show.

I don't know that I could do better though. Everyone, well most everyone, usually says they have a great idea for a tv show, if only they had the money or knew the right people. I have my own ideas of different shows, but I also know that a lot goes into even getting a test pilot going. And even then, how hard it is to gage what will be the next hit.

For now, I'm hoping to save money (eventually) and buy the series I like. Until then I watch what I can, learn what I can, and apply it to what I want to write.
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I have a love/hate relationship with reality television. In that I both love and hate it. There are a wide margin of the things that I just can't stand, most them being the ones that do absolutely nothing. It just a show following someone(s) who somebody said was famous enough to have their own show. Big Brother, the Housewife series, really anything on the E! network, it's so pointless. The dating ones are crap as well, forcing twenty people together to fight over one person is hardly love. And while you want to, can you really trust the emotions and acts a person does when a camera is in their face?

But then I love stuff like Project Runway, Top Chef, Work of Art (all on (or started on) Bravo oddly enough), American Chopper (in it's early years); they actually accomplish something. There is an overall goal, and an end product. Actual skill is involved, beyond looking good on camera. Yes, I totally realize that the entire event is a production, it is a tv show after all, but there is still talent needed to be there. The show needs "characters" but to even be considered a character you have to put up to make it that far.

Project Runway I think was one of, if not the, first competition shows of its kind. I loved it from the first season. Take 12 designers, hope they can sew, and put them through a three month relay race of fashion. Awesome. Bitchy egos, stress induced arguements, and the trainwreck that follows. Over times it's gotten more and more produced and staged, the producers trying harder each season to match the raw discovery of the first season, when they didn't know what they were doing and everything was more real. When models didn't show up on time, or didn't at all and forced the skinny gay designer to model instead. When the challenges were more than design something pretty. When the show went to Lifetime, I thought it would die. And when the season finale was made up of three young beautiful women in their twenties, Lifetime's goal demographic, I thought it lost all crediblity. Lucky the next seasons made up for it (somewhat), so that seasons strangeness was blamed instead on being in LA.

Top Chef, the show I really want to talk about right now, has consistantly rocked every season it's been on. The first paved the way, based heavily on the PR show model, but changed enough to really keep it fresh. It had two challenges instead of one, with the first affecting the second, in both theme and varibles. The people are almost more talented and egotistic than anyone on PR. And the challenges, despite aways being food based, continue to be fresh and interesting.

Speaking of challenges, TC is the only show I know that has certain challenges return every season. Two challenges, such fan favorites that since their introduction are the goal to reach, and the most feared, of the chefs involved; the mise an place relay race, introduced in Season 3, and the dreaded Restuarant Wars, in place since Season 1.

Right now I'm watching Season 7 on Dailymotion, because I missed it not having cable, and Season 8, also on Daily, as it happens.

S8 is the first All Star season, returning past seasons second-place contestants as well as fan favorites and those who just stir the drama pot. Today's post title was in relation to Wylie Dufresne, an award winning and envelope pushing chef. He is well known, now, for loving eggs; his first appearance on the show was during an egg themed Quickfire challenge. So when one of the chefs purposely cooked an egg dish for Wylie, he knew what he was doing. But hearing "notorious egg slut" be said out loud, and knowing it aired on national television is just hilarious.

One thing people don't think about show like this, any show that has a presenter, is how hard that job really is. It's hard to feel sorry for somebody who really does nothing in relation to the show aside of stand there, usually look pretty, and talk about what the actual talent is going to do be doing that day, but it's a vital part of a show's survivibility. Think of American Idol; Ryan Seacrest is a douchebag and talking is his only talent (if even want to call it that), but there must be some reason he makes so much money to host the show. So is the same with shows like TC and PR. PR has had Heidi Klum since it's beginning, and lucked out with her. She a model, and kinda sadly shows that fact often, but she has a very good personality and energy that translates well to hosting. That her total time on screen amounts to maybe four minutes total doesn't take away from her presence.

TC, on the other hand, faltered at the gate on that aspect. Katie Lee Joel was best known for being married to Billy Joel. Supposedly she really had a food career, but it was so miniscule that it couldn't have factored in. And she was dull and monotone, something you can't be when trying to convey tension or excitment to the cheftesants, and by proxy the viewers. She was let go after one season and replaced with Padma Lakshmi, who despite being a blip on the food circuit as much as Lee, at least had legitimate shows on Food Network and Discory Channel, and couple awards to back her up. That she was warm and personable helped as well. Almost to illustrate the point, Katie Lee was brought back as a guest judge in S8. Side by side with Padma, it's easy to see why they lost her. She was drowned out by Padma's presence, let alone Tom Colicchio's (who is awesome), was still dull to listen to, and almost looked annoyed to be there. Maybe that part was a bit of resentment, but still.

By the time Work of Art came out, Bravo had the formula down pat as to how to put together a well produced and interesting reality game show. Set number of contestants, all of varying degrees of competience and skill, at least two who are dellusional, half of whom are egomaniacs, and close working and living quarters. Four judges, one whom is also the host, of varied personalities, and one guest judge. One mentor, also possibly a judge, who has a charming accent of some kind, and who tries to help stear the contestants towards something not embarrassing without telling htem exactly what to do. Challenges that test the hamster runners, hopefully making at least one of them say "this isn't what I do" and another say "I've got this in the bag", that are also interesting enough to keep them guessing.

And for the most part they got it. The first season was much more polished than any pervious reality competition show they've presented so far, and did produce gallery worthy pieces; sometimes, about 90% was good but you'd have a hard time finding someone interested in the rest. There were some quality issues, in both the judging and those playing, but that's the nature of these kinds of things. They let the obvious shit kickers stick around long enough to mess with everyone, but got rid of them as soon as it was apparent they weren't going to produce to do anything worth while beyond kick shit. They got three good finalists, one of whom deservedly was shown he's not that hot, and the guy I wanted to win from episode one took it home.

What kinda pissed me off, and it shouldn't have, was that I found out I missed the casting call for the next season. I've wanted to at least try one of these things, just for S&Gs, but know that I'm way behind on even thinking about attempting it. One, I have no portfolio to show, and no current work anyway. Two, I'd need to desperately raise my skill levels to even try. Three, I'd have to think about whether or not I even want to subject myself to reality television.

But it's fun to think about.
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If there's one thing I can definitely ramble on about for a while, it's comic. Well, and movies. And cartoons. And comic movies. But still, comics this time. And rambling I shall do.

Young Justice is a new animated series on Cartoon Network, created by Greg Weisman and Brandon Vietti, Weisman the creator of Gargoyles and producer of Spectacular Spider-Man, so that's a well endorsed resume, and frankly the show looks to kick. ASS.

I have a history with the comic YJ. It was the first series I seriously followed, having previously only watched cartoons based on comics and collected various titles sporadically. But with YJ, I read and bought as many back and current issues as I could, because I just loved it.

It's times like this I wish I had a webcam to do this stuff.

Quick rundown of what Young Justice was and DC animated shows to this point )

My thoughts and breakdown of Young Justice: the Series )

Wrapping it up )

Young Justice: the Series
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
ravenswept: (Zipper Eyes)
Slowly now the madness will begin to creep into my thoughts. Drowning my vision in its own ideal of reality, such that what I once called my own is no more. Filled to the brim with the haunted call of unself, I will cease to any longer care how it ends. Only that it will inevitably end is my sole assurance. But even now that single truth may soon no longer keep.

The ghost would soon come.

I stand before my sentencer, his tome of law and age holding within my judgment. He waits for the other, that whom will forever keep watch over my movement and leanings to their satisfaction. A white phantom lingering behind my ears to whisper forever nothings. Bound by arcane ways and rites not my own, twisted metal evermore showing my enslavement.

The two families watch, their endless struggle over meaningless power halted only temporarily. Even the damned enjoyed a good hanging. Eyes that shown little more than black rock to me stared back, waiting. Soon. Just moments more, and another entraptee would be gathered into the fold. Welcomed to that fate which I would rapidly share. Some wore imitations of my attirement, seemingly to both mock and pity us together in some macabre brotherhood. But mine was far more expensive, in all monetary and pious needs, separating myself from all others so that I alone would endure the coming trials.

The ghost would soon come.

Our seconds waited, shifting and swaying from each weighted leg and back again. Thirds and fourths too showed their unease, aleved only by the knowledge they were not alone in their ordeal. Their service was that freely involuntarily given, false joy spoken as to delay their own condemnation only instants longer. More so than my disturbed audience, they bore the styled remnants that openly twisted and derided the dawning farce. Positioned higher in some artificial ranking, closer to bear witness to that which someday they too may be judged to bear.

The ghost comes.

Unspoken yet signaled, they rose, together a mass of black and silks. Eerie tones began their climb, the beginning of the ensnaring ritual. The portal that lay at the end of my long walk opened, my binding to be shown to the world. Pale wisps darted as the form slowly raced towards me, daring those that lined the conduit to touch. But to do so was a fool’s path, more so than all others. One which I had already been elected to walk. Two trailed behind the white, eyes downcast as to not be swept away should one catch a glimpse beneath the curtain mask. Theirs was to keep to the physical plane my creature, until such time that it would mine alone a task to keep sated. Only moments more, and they would be freed. Moments more, and I would be sentenced.

The shade of pallid moon glow drifted to my side, silent as all others. The haunting pitched tenor faded, their part in farce of ceremony and circumstance ended. Our steward bade seat the families, least they become any more uncomfortable than needed for the following uncomforting law. Tears already ran down those of lesser strength, their soft sniveling wails alone filling the noiseless hall. Balding eyes searched us, the bound and the binding, and found us to be to his morbid satisfaction. His ancient digest opened to the previously marked folio within, fattened fingers scanning for his place among it all and found the cord that would end my fate.

His mouth gaped open, a rumbling and stilted say carrying over the captive faces after first washing over me and mine.

“We joyously gather here today to see wed these two loving persons in holy matrimony…”

*funny: yes/no?*
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*preface note* i'm well aware of the implications lj has proposed with their soul selling whore-like actions media expansion to include twit and fb inclusion, but choose to trust in those who read my journal. granted, i'm not going to be quite as open, writing wise, but i'm not going to stop writing here*

Inner child doesn't mean being pregnant )

I will keep the kid side of me close to the top. There's no reason to bury it just because you grow up.

Well shit

Oct. 26th, 2006 08:59 pm
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This has been an odd day, and I don't feel it was use to its' highest degree. What I mean by that is, while I enjoy - and in fact, thrive in - the odd day of absurdity, I never know what to make of them when they become odd for banal reasoning.

I awoke at what seemed to be an oh-god-thirty-o'clock, and while I know it not to be my body says different until copious sugar and non-coffee caffeine are intravenous fed, and made off to work. What I do is banal, but money is decent enough and hours are spread out. I arrived and began to feed my habit when a fellow employee asked what I was doing.

Working? No, oh no.

Seems during my rare day off, the schedule had been redone and I no longer needed to bless the people with my presence. I was a bit annoyed, feeling that my wakened self could be of more use if I was back in my own bed, but with my personal time reversal device in my other pants, I was wrought to sigh with heaviness and simply return home.

With all my complaining, you'd think I did something worth while with my day. Maybe wrote on a story, cleaned up a bit, went out and saw things of wonderment. HA! I, pathetically, used most of my day to play, or watch the playing of, video games. I am sad.

Well, not the entire day was wasted in front of the glowing box of my worship. Around five-ish I was forced to travel to my second unit of monetary gain. This job also depends on the patronage of random strangers, and while not as well traveled as my first job, is steadily climbing. But this is compared to an almost bottom red line before, so comparisons aren't exactly stimulating. And tonight sucked beyond suck. A vacuum in space has less force then tonight did. It wasn't dead; no no, that would be enjoyable compared to this. Instead, we had simply three come in tonight. Three. And spaced apart by hours, so time slowed to a crawl.

I'm starting to get sick of it all. I enjoy what I do to some degree, but I'm almost to the point of leaving and finding something else. My options would be limited, but still, set hours and higher pay do have that attractive appeal; even retail is certain areas would supply what I'm looking for.

Thank god for Halloween; my favorite holiday, finally here. Not that I plan much, but just the knowledge that it's here is good enough. Pop in the holiday favorite, Nightmare Before Christmas, almost once a night and kick back. I love the movie, almost on the basis of it works on two levels, and every holiday season retail stores will carry it once during Halloween and then again during Christmas.

Because nothing is better then Halloween during Christmas.


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January 2013

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