September 12th, 2005
Never get yourself in the middle of an argument where both sides are convinced they're right. It only leads to headaches.
April 29th, 2005
Car accidents suck. Especially when they result in more than three thousand dollars damage to your car. Taillight replacement + dual bumper replacement + quarter panel replacement + paint work = MAJOR money.
However, when said repairs are all the responsibility of The Other Guy's insurance company (who seems oddly too happy to just approve whatever repair bills you have) and you also get a free rental car for the duration, things aren't too bad.
April 17th, 2005
I should post in here more often. I really should. But fuck it--I'm too tired and I can't remember to post shit in two places. So foo.
June 19th, 2004
|12:44 am - *jumps on the dead metawank horse with spurs on*|
Let's see if I have this right:
gloria_mundi posts about "annefranksdiary" on LJ—a (for those who were passed out drunk that day) completely devoid-of-taste "parody" whose humorous potential is debatable.
Unless you're seether. If you are, the journal is the most putrid piece of filth imaginable and anyone who shows the slightest bit of tolerance for it is an "insenstive prick," an "insensitive bastard," or "deficient." What's wanky here is NOT the disgust hurled at the LJ, because that's understandable and justified. What's wanky is that apparently we have to be told again and again how BAD it is, continuing the wank far beyond its normal shelf life.
Seether, dear, to quote another poster: "I think we get the point that you don't like it."
Short but seething.
April 27th, 2004
|11:30 am - Hah!|
"Hello everyone. Whoever suggested to do a filk of Lady of Shalott (I can't remember your name and it is lost in the spooge!) well... *shakes fist* that is one fucking long poem bitch! It is eating my braaaaaain!"
April 14th, 2004
|05:12 am - Don't tell the RPS and RPF folks|
"[...]but even so the plunging of a real person, no matter how sportive and willing, into an invented milieu where he is made to perform in accordance with the invention, strikes one as a singularly tasteless device."
~Vladimir Nabakov, Pale Fire
Current Mood: literary
January 5th, 2004
Looks like I'm up on fw_deathmatch. Looks like I might win this round, but I'll be knocked off pretty quick after that. I'm not a BNF of anything except Being A Pain In The Ass and Taking Screen Caps of Mike's Ass.
October 7th, 2003
|11:09 pm - Tiny wank from a diminishing fandom|
Yeah, so the Monkees aren't doing much lately, so the fandom is pretty quiet—hibernation, if you will.
The Monkeeland message board is one of the few places that is still pretty active, and usually it's a peaceful, if goofy, place. People post pictures, questions, links, quotations, etc. It is also a "family friendly" place; because some of the people have kids who read the board things have to stay relatively clean. The mods delete content that isn't.
A while ago Neffie posts a link to a page on her site, which seems to be one of those "Are you Obsessed?" lists, but, if you look at numbers 16, 17, 19, 25, and 50, you'll see it goes a leeetle beyond the pale. Enough that it's not suitable for a kid.
Flash forward however long (I wasn't there for the original posting). Ivorykisses posts a link to a tongue-in-cheek page on her site with a collect of screen caps of Michael Nesmith's beautiful, fully-clothed behind. Shots that anyone watching an episode would see, and it's pretty tame compared.
And so Neffie demands to know why a page showing an ass is okay to post to the board while her discussion of Liquid Paper's secret ingredient (#50 on the list) isn't. The mods reply with their reasons. Neffie shoots back that no one on the list is a REAL fan because "what you guys are talking about has nothing to do with who these people actually are, even their 'stage images'," and that because she's not allowed to talk about "cumming" and "orgasms" on the board that the rest of the members are "censoring in a very inappropriate, unrealistic, sheltering, delusional way." (Someone's delusional but it's not who you think . . . ) People tell her to shut up and go away if she doesn't like it (which might otherwise be wanky but everyone, including me, does it so politely and reasonably). ;)
Wanky when you consider that Neffie views herself as the One True Fan and believes that the Monkees are her spiritual soulmates, but that's wank for another time and place . . . o.O
(thanks to milkshake for bringing it to my attention. ;))
August 9th, 2003
|10:55 pm - Fledgling wank|
Most Monkees fans fit into one of three archetypes: the psycho, the angsty fan, and the happy-go-lucky types who are in it for the fun and the music and nothing more.
These folks are the middle type. The first poster is P--name reduced to a single letter to protect the wanky. The story I’m about to tell is real. I think.
( Where did it all go wrong? )
Is the wank making me paranoid or is paranoia making me wank?
July 14th, 2003
|11:52 pm - Off I go|
Tomorrow will be a vicious scramble for me, trying to finish up all the billion little things on my list for the trip. Tomorrow is also an early bedtime, as I have to get up early and pick up Mattie from the bus station. So this will likely be the last time you all hear from me until Sunday or Monday, so farewell until then.
June 23rd, 2003
I'm back home now; the weekend was a blast as usual--weekends with friends are always like vacations that look endless at the beginning and monstrously short at the end. I drove home in the waning sunlight (that kept burning my left ear) with Sheryl Crow blazing from the stereo and my arm on the door with the window rolled all the way down.
A few unfortunate drivers found out the hard way that I am not someone to be trifled with on the highway--yes, I drive a Hyundai but it has a pert little V6 and scoots along as fast as I can shift (which has gotten progressively quicker as the years go on). Yes, I'm a woman. Yes, I go to a private suburban university. Yes, I will kick your ever-lovin' ass if you cut me off. Yes, I will floor it to almost a hundred so that you can't cut me off from the right. Yes, I will get next to a slow semi and match speeds just so that you, the self-important cell phone-talking SUV-driving asshat riding two inches off my back bumper, will have to go slow for a while.
Yes, I am evil, nasty, and I am a bitch. Bow before me and tremble.
And in regards to my second most recent post: don't worry about spoilers, because I have the book (yay for Borders in Beachwood!) and impetuous me flipped through towards the end, got convinced it would be Dumbledore or Hagrid or Ron, and then found out it was, well, who it was, so it's all good.
( not a spoiler but I'm not taking my chances )
Current Mood: Impish
June 10th, 2003
|04:23 am - Just in case she deletes it . . .|
This has the potential to be a long entry, so I'll keep it to the Cliff's Notes version:
1) Girl posts a story over on fictionpress.net. I haven't read it, but apparently it was a horribly rendered Nazi Mary Sue. (Yes, you heard me right. raendrop knows to what I am referring.)
2) Someone posts a link to marysues and everyone goes apeshit, and there is a mass exodus to said story, which I assume (as I didn't check it out until after the story was down) was flamed to pieces.
3) Girl takes story down, and there was much rejoicing. (yay)
4) Girl posts new "story"--a few sentences where someone (the original Sue, I'm guessing) is shot. Probably a way of getting back at the mean people who didn't wuv her story.
And so, because I possess the keen ability to sound as pretentious and snooty as . . . well . . . I can't think of anyone now, but anyway:
( I replied )
Well, signing it with "graduate student" didn't sound impressive enough, and I am an editor, by gummy.
I am, of course, duly prepared for any and all flames that come my way, and will of course post them here (and on fandom_wank if they're worthy) for all to enjoy.
Current Mood: rejected
|01:51 am - From "Live From New York"|
(a book about SNL):
"Franken and Davis I think shared an apartment, and they threw a party so we could get together to watch Howard Cosell's Saturday Night Live [ . . . ] All the writers showed up, Michael O'Donoghue, Dan Aykroyd. They were passing around these joints. I had never smoked before, or not really gotten stoned, and I didn't want to seem like "the kid," so I started smoking. This pot was from Africa or something. You didn't even have to smoke it; you just looked at the joint and you were unconscious."
Man. That musta been some good grass.
I know I don't post here nearly enough . . . I'm just too lazy to cross-post, I guess. Must get better at that.
In other news I met with Tom Hayes, my graduate advisor, on Wednesday. I talked with him on the phone today and he said if I take EN 489 (Composition and Rhetoric) and other 500 level classes, two this semester and three in the spring, I'll have one-up on the competition when I reapply for the graduate assistantship. I hope I get it this time. I really want an office and a phone and a desk and to scare freshmen. That's the life.
Work tonight went really quick, but it was also aggravating, too.
The Computer Commons area closes half an hour before the library does. It has always been this way. Before, the computers were in a room that could be locked. Now they’re out in the open. (George, the circ. supervisor, is working on a program that would shut them all down at closing.) Until that comes into play we have to go in and shoo everyone out. So tonight, after making several announcements warning people that the computer area is closed, I go back, and there are two guys sitting there, chillin’ as if they have all night. “You guys gotta wrap it up,” I said, not rudely, but brusquely enough to let them know I was annoyed, as I always am when people ignore repeated announcements. I went around, pushing chairs in (how fucking hard is it to push in a damn chair?!) and picking up trash, including wrappers from snacks and chips that people are not supposed to have anyway, and these guys are taking for-fucking-ever to get their stuff together. I started wandering back that way, ready to herd them if I had to, when they finally got the clue and wandered off. After I finished shelving a couple books in reference that some lazy person had left on a table, I saw the two guys wandering out and resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at their backs, as they probably would have seen me do so in the plate glass windows. Later on, as I’m leaving, the same two guys are standing in the dark parking lot, talking! Jeez, fellas, do you have a home you can go to?
I know. I'm hostile because I hate people as a whole. I love individuals and certain groups.
Current Mood: *sporfle!*
May 26th, 2003
You are the hivemind!
A highly sophisticated form of mob rule, you issue
edicts which must be obeyed and rule the
community with an iron fist.
Unfortunately your memos frequently go astray...
Which article of Fandom Wank culture are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Current Mood: discontent
May 20th, 2003
Special thanks to milkshake for the groovy new iconage. *stares*
May 2nd, 2003
|12:17 am - Sitting on the Steps of Rodman Hall|
Was it only a week ago that the air
was bitterly cold? Too cold to breathe
or even think? It was a month ago
that the quad was covered with snow,
yet now I see the clover-green grass
and the neo-goth of Bernet Hall
which only needs a gargoyle or two
with fangs and claws and dragon wings
to be complete, and maybe some lightning
against a backdrop of starless black
for appropriately cinematic effect.
There’s Jack, passing me with a smile and nod
and I think he’s the kind of guy I’d like to marry,
no big church wedding for us, no sir,
something small and simple, an assurance
of success, but who am I kidding,
it’ll never happen. I’ll probably live
the spinster life, reading trashy romance
novels and falling asleep in the middle
of Sunset Blvd. having long forgotten the twang
of Rose City Chimes echoing through my head now.
Current Mood: Fan-Fucking-tastic
|12:15 am - Pantoum|
Standing alone on the Lake Erie shore,
the waves flooding over and around my ankles
make the rocks shimmer like a mirage before retreating,
leaving the dark pearl drops glistening in the sun.
The waves flooding over and around my ankles
bitterly cold on a late spring day,
leaving the dark pearl drops glistening in the sun
for a moment before being buried once more.
Bitterly cold on a late spring day,
bits of algae float on the surface
for a moment before being buried once more
beneath the smoky blue depths.
Bits of algae float on the surface,
carried this far by who knows what or where,
beneath the smoky blue depths
a dark shape moves, appears, then vanishes once more.
Carried this far by who know what or where,
a bright, flaring green to contrast the dark water,
a dark shape moves, appears, then vanishes once more;
I reach out towards it, my hand wavering within the wave.
A bright, flaring green to contrast the dark water,
a bit a rounded, water-worn glass catches my eye.
I reach out towards it, my hand wavering within the wave,
the water snatches it from my grasp and it is gone.
Current Mood: *thud*
|12:14 am - [Title]|
The scalloped edges catch the light of the sun
streaming through the ancient windows
In another world, similar but different
channeled through a blank screen made up of things
I cannot even imagine.
The bright lights and big city are here,
movements of blue and green and black
shouts of fury and outrage from the others
that I am sitting and watching.
Where does such fervency come from?
Now she’s sitting up, looking at me with a sense
of bland accusation. It was just a few days ago
that I returned to her from a trip of epic proportions
fully expecting her to show her displeasure
at my abandonment of her but here she is
sitting so perfectly across from me now,
not even flinching at the noises that shoot
around the room from the multicolored distant world.
It may be time for me to go back to where I started,
you know, erase all that I’ve done and start over,
taking a left where I took a right and continuing straight
where I once before curved. Maybe this time I’ll end up
somewhere else, somewhere that’s nicer than here,
somewhere that makes more sense, somewhere that I’m
The voice comes through loud and clear in a language
not familiar to me, but familiar nevertheless,
carrying the undercurrents of something I don’t quite understand,
and yet I do.
April 15th, 2003
|04:08 am - Circle Sky|
It’s funny how music sounds different in the car,
with four speakers around you, surrounding and enfolding
and making a trip down the highway seem like a scene
from a movie, trees and cities slipping by to the raw sound of
circle sky telling lies raison d’etre idle threat
and it looks like we made it once again
and I’ve made it once again, too, sitting here after the fun
is over, heading home in that strange sense of melancholy
that follows a brief period of intense excitement.
I should be sad or depressed but I’m not—the emotion
is still running high and will probably carry me into tomorrow
and the gap that once was time is forever closed behind
‘cause I told you I’d come back and here I am
I’ll be home in a few hours, back to my boring life
but for now I intend to enjoy the moment, the cars
zooming by to the roar of the music in my car
wanting to be, to hear and to see, crying to the sky
but the porpoise is laughing, goodbye goodbye
I remember touching a porpoise once,
(even though I think it was really a dolphin)
skin like a water balloon filled with maple syrup,
sleek and shiny and softer than silk—
It’s strange what you think about when music’s playing.
Do I have to do this all over again? Didn’t I do it right
the first time? Do I have to do this all over again? How
many times do I have to make this climb?
I wonder that myself as I bank my car onto the offramp
that will take me home.
Current Mood: enraged
April 3rd, 2003
So the Monkees DVDs have been pushed back AGAIN. May 13th is the latest date, but from what I hear it's a firm one. I don't like having to wait another damn month, but this way they'll arrive after I'm done with finals and graduation, so they won't be a distraction.
From AMM (and, I should add, one of the few sane, non-psychotic people who got the info from a DVD distributor):
Street date 5/13
Entire Season 1 in chronological order
32 episodes on 6xDVD
Ep 1- director James Frawley, Davy Jones
Ep 3- Peter Tork and Robert Rafelson (separate commentaries)
Ep 10- Michael Nesmith, Peter Tork
Ep 12- Nesmith
Ep 14- Frawley
Ep 15- Jones
Ep 32- Nesmith, Tork, Bobby Hart (all separate)
16mm version of pilot
Whee! I can't wait!
Current Mood: dirty