Self titled still sealed.

phosfate @ 2008-11-17T12:21:00

2008-11-17T18:22:14Z

Monk is finally cancelled. What will Lee Goldberg do with all that free time?

phosfate @ 2008-11-13T23:47:00

2008-11-14T06:00:42Z

Everybody knows Twilight is lame.

But guy who plays Edward is, like, totally cool because he hates Twlight.

So it's okay to fangirl guy who plays Edward. And stand in line for hours at the mall with a cattle band on your arm to get his autograph, because you hate Twilight, too. You're cool. Not like those other fans.

And, by extension, it's okay to get all het up over Twilight. In order to hate it. Because that's cool.

You should probably buy a t-shirt while you're there, so you can wear it ironically.

And go see the movie, because you'll be sooooooo annoying to the regular fangirls, with your coolness and your irony.

yes i can has

2008-11-05T15:05:57Z

fic rec: dr tectonic does fuzz-o-ween right

2008-10-31T15:33:37Z

Just. Go. Read. GO READ IT YOU BASTARDS!
http://community.livejournal.com/sandfordpolice/370954.html

sketchbook spam: how to make fake stained glass

2008-10-30T15:40:09Z

Get a couple-three vending machine temporary tattoos. Cut them into random chunks. Apply them to your paper. Outline the chunks with black magic marker. You are now Marc Chagall...'s cousin's kid.

the cat meme

2008-10-30T14:57:36Z

If you are reading this, post a picture of a cat in your journal. (Your cat, a lolcat, or someone else's cat. But preferably yours, if possible.)

The very late Pudy, cat of my childhood. Her markings gave her a look of perpetual fury. Her disposition was utterly sweet. I miss her.

the handwriting meme

2008-10-29T18:13:03Z

fic post: The Council Want a Makeover (hot fuzz; drabble)

2008-10-21T21:51:28Z

TITLE: Drabble: The Council Want a Makeover
FANDOM: Hot Fuzz
WORD COUNT: 100. Because it's a drabble.
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: Hot Fuzz belongs to the boys and girls at Rogue.

Entries in the Sandford Citizen's “New Motto for Sandford” contest, 2007:

Beautiful. Deadly. Dull as Fuck.
Always look on the bright side of life.
Worse things happen at sea.
Where the bodies are buried.
You can't say you weren't warned.
As seen on CNN.
The Community that Scares
Now 75% less evil.
They really are accidents now.
Leave alive or your money cheerfully refunded.
It puts the lotion on its skin.
None of those bloody annoying Jane Austen fans like you get at Bath.
Gateway to Buford Abbey.
It won't happen again.

No winner has been chosen. The search continues.

picspam: hot fuzz japan

2008-10-17T20:19:47Z

Japanese trifold brochure. Click for much, much, much bigger.

The front cover is the faux Sin City graphic on the right.

The inside.

I like the little graphic they use in Japan of Danny, Nicholas and the Swan.

phosfate @ 2008-09-29T15:57:00

2008-09-29T20:57:27Z

More old work art unearthed:

...1998, maybe? Click for more biggery.

Also, I'm back from vacation.

phosfate @ 2008-09-29T11:06:00

2008-09-29T16:06:27Z

http://www.build-o-bama.blogspot.com/

Print out and build your very own Obama for your desk or dash.

phosfate @ 2008-09-17T16:49:00

2008-09-17T21:50:01Z

We're moving offices, and I'm finding (and tossing) all kinds of ancient crap.

Here's a 20-year-old doodle of Aquaman and a small camel:

phosfate @ 2008-09-16T08:11:00

2008-09-16T13:14:52Z

if you were born to Sarah Palin, your name would be:

Open Aircraft Palin

The Sarah Palin baby name generator:
http://politsk.blogspot.com/2008/09/sarah_13.html

fic post: Wolverine is a Secret Cutter (X-Men, R)

2008-09-07T05:19:42Z

TITLE: Wolverine is a Secret Cutter
FANDOM: X-Men
AUTHOR: annlarimer
WORD COUNT: 3
RATING: R for violence
WARNINGS: Self-harm
SUMMARY: Logan has a dark secret.
DISCLAIMER: The X-Men belongs to Marvel Entertainment Group.

"Ahhh...Aw, goddamit!"

phosfate @ 2008-09-05T08:22:00

2008-09-05T13:22:58Z

Dudes, it's fuckin' Sep's birthday. Try not to mistreat him too much.

fic post: The Silent Partner (hot fuzz)

2008-08-20T00:25:40Z

TITLE: The Silent Partner
FANDOM: Hot Fuzz
AUTHOR: annlarimer
WORD COUNT: Oh, call it 600.
RATING: PG for (all together now) the cussin'!
WARNINGS: Movie spoilers, American spelling
SUMMARY: Woad is a funny word.
NOTES: Crit is love.
DISCLAIMER: Hot Fuzz belongs to Rogue and Universal and all those guys.

Like some avenging...angel, the swan appeared in the rear-view mirror, looking very, very shirty.

The swan hissed -- and, Frank Butterman could have sworn, laughed -- and made a lunge for his face.

Frank was too busy being trying to keep his eyes beak-free. He couldn't steer the car, and never so much as noticed the tree. There was an awful, jarring metallic crumple (was that what Irene had felt at the last?), while something went BWOOF! right into his face.

At least the car had stopped.

"Oh, God," Frank murmured to himself. He was hurt, possibly badly, but the airbag had saved his life. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

I should...what should I do? Frank thought. Check myself for injuries. Yes. I should do that. How do I do that exactly? There's a fucking great balloon in my face.

"Looks like you're for it, Frank," said the swan, from somewhere.

Frank sighed, resigned. Something was wrong in his head. The noise of what must have been a completely imaginary helicopter made it difficult to hear his own voice, let alone the swan's. "This was all your fault. I should never have listened to you."

The swan clambered up from behind the seat, feathers ruffled. "My plan was perfect. Your execution -- forgive the pun -- was flawed."

"Dad!" Danny's voice came from somewhere far off. "Hang on!"

"You're caught as well," Frank pointed out.

"Frank, Frank, Frank. Who're they gonna believe? A psychotic, murdering copper, or one of the Bishop's mute swans? Think about it, Frank. The best you'd get is the bin instead of prison."

"Dad! You all right?" Danny's face appeared in the side window, Nicholas Angel behind him. Danny looked awful. No, wait -- Danny had the head of a pantomime bear. Then Frank blinked, and he only looked like Danny again. But awful.

I ought to feel bad about that, Frank thought, But I'm not sure I feel anything right now.

"You know what happens to rats in Sandford, Frank," the swan muttered in his ear. "So, schtum."

Frank managed, with a twitch of his hand, to click the button that rolled down the side window. It was only polite.

"Don't move," Angel warned. He was wearing an old-fashioned, ruffled clown collar, with big puffballs. Wait. No he wasn't.

"This isn't over," Frank growled.

The swan hissed softly, then winked at him.

"Oh, Frank, it is over," Angel said. There was a note of pity in his voice, which only made Frank hate him more than ever. Angel carefully reached in and took Frank's gun.

"Not you," Frank told him.

"Did you hit your head, Dad?" Danny asked.

"Who can say, son?"

"Well, you could," Danny said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Which, now Frank thought about it, Danny specialized in.

Betrayed by my own son. My own son, who is, god bless him, thicker than a tub of jelly with thickening agent added for extra thickness. "I wish you'd shot me, you young idiot."

Danny actually smiled at him. It was a disconcerting smile, what with the Zorro mask. "Now, now, none of that."

"Please take that off." There were sirens in the distance now, as well as the helicopter.

"He definitely hit his head," Danny told Angel. Angel nodded. They were back to themselves, now, apart from the woad. "Stay still, okay, Dad?"

Woad is a funny word, Frank thought. Woad. Woaaaad. "Woad."

"What?" said Danny.

"Woad," agreed the swan.

"Frank Butterman, you are argle boingy boingy throggle," said Angel. "If you flink margarine dustmite underpants coingle mashmarsh harpy bin. Bismuth Hampstead glyph tiny things."

Someone will pay for this, Frank thought.

"SMERSH wrangle flarg later in court."

"Woad?" said Danny.

"Woad," said the swan.

I do hope it's not me.

Thanks to: viedma for the swell betage.

picspam: ed considers adoption

2008-08-19T19:35:17Z

Ed: "It's like I never truly knew love before I took this duck into my arms."
Shaun: "Hey now!"
Ed (trying it out): "My son, the duck"
Shaun: "Does the duck have a name, then?"
Ed: "Don't be silly, ducks don't have names"

This is why I like playing with sepiamagpie.

fic post: Mr. Staker's Holiday (Hot Fuzz)

2008-08-14T21:24:35Z

TITLE: Mr. Staker's Holiday
FANDOM: Hot Fuzz
AUTHOR: phosfate and viedma
WORD COUNT: Lots, like...whoah, 9,700.
RATING: PG for goddamn swearing, violence
WARNINGS: Movie spoilers, American spelling, writers who think they're fucking hilarious. Contains peanuts.
SUMMARY: Bread. Bread. BREAD BREAD BREADBREADBREADBREADBREADBREAD!
NOTES: Crit is love.
DISCLAIMER: Hot Fuzz belongs to breadbread Rogue and bread bread bread. Bread. No infringeBREAD! BREAD! BREADBREADBREADBREAD!tendedBREAD!

Mr. Staker's Holiday

When you looked at it a certain way, the whole thing was Nicholas Angel's fault. If not for him, Sandford, Gloucestershire would not be on its third police station in as many years, and the village's swan population would not be Britain's highest per capita.

"That boy," Andy Wainwright said later, "Is wound too tight."

It started like this.

Nicholas was no longer the ticking time bomb of no one was quite sure what that he had once been, but he was, as Danny Butterman said, always thinking away. Even in his sleep.

Late one night -- or rather, very early one morning -- Nicholas suddenly woke, sat bolt upright, and said, to no one in particular, "Swans don't honk. Swans do not honk!" continued on Ann's LJ, since Mary's a bit shy.

picspam: out of the box

2008-08-14T16:12:17Z

Ed is bewildered by his new surroundings.

picspam: hazing the new guy

2008-08-13T20:52:55Z

The Black Knight hates it here.

picspam: i love a journal cliché

2008-08-06T16:48:22Z

I'm feeling perfectly foul and panic-attacky, so here's everyone's favorite LJ cliché photo post, the book and video shelves! Yayayayay! *Kermit flail*

Apologies for the yellowing and blurriness.

Hello, Elrond. Hello, Little Book of Calm. Hello, Raisin Bran Sun.

The appalling pink and yellow thing is a homemade box for Noir. Boogiepop Phantom, over on the right, has one, too, but it's facing inside. If you have any of those old Windows manual slipcases, they're great for slicing down with an X-Acto knife (be careful!) and painting with acrylic, as you would any canvas.

The Region 1 Randall and Hopkirk box set tanked so badly that we probably won't see Volume 2 any time soon, or ever. But at least I can throw away my audio cassettes from the 1970s. Note to self: Try to actually watch Some Like It Hot one day.

phosfate @ 2008-07-25T09:17:00

2008-07-25T14:17:37Z

THERE WILL BE NO DISCUSSION IN FANDOM_DISCUSS!

fic post: A Boy's Book of Practical Magic to Mystify, Baffle and Entertain (hot fuzz)

2008-07-03T19:28:48Z

TITLE: A Boy's Book of Practical Magic to Mystify, Baffle and Entertain
FANDOM: Hot Fuzz
AUTHOR: annlarimer
WORD COUNT: Approximately 2,950 British Standard Words^TM. Some settling may occur.
RATING: PG for goddamn swearing
WARNINGS: Movie spoilers, DVD extra spoilers, American spelling
SUMMARY: For this trick, he'll need a volunteer from the pavement. You, sir, the man with the fucking enormous knife in your chest! Don't be shy, now.
NOTES: Crit is love.
DISCLAIMER: Hot Fuzz belongs to those damn punk kids at RogueCorpCo.

The NWA were some of the strangest customers the Crown Prosecution Service had ever dealt with. They were monsters all, few showing even a little remorse or regret, except perhaps for having been caught. But they were friendly, cooperative monsters.

None of them denied what they had done, and any confusion over who had done what and when arose from spotty memories, rather than attempts at concealment or shifting of blame. Some of them helpfully provided diaries. Continued at my LJ

fic post: Garth Marenghi's "Prelude to More Revenge of a Sith"

2008-06-24T02:31:24Z

TITLE: Garth Marenghi's "Prelude to More Revenge of a Sith"
FANDOM: The Star Wars universe. Though I think calling it a 'fandom' is in many ways demeaning to George Lucas' vision. 'Imaginarium' might be a better term, or 'shared dreamworld.'
AUTHOR: ~~annlarimer~~ Garth Marenghi
WORD COUNT: I make every word count.
RATING: PG
WARNINGS: The level of quality of this 'fanfic' may be more than you are used to.
SUMMARY: "Garth Vader stood over the sink of his small bachelor apartment, eating a Pot Noodle." The beginning of a classic, multi-part epic.
NOTES: Feedback is welcome, as long as you're not one of those petty, sad little freaks obsessed with "spelling" and "grammar" and "structure."
DISCLAIMER: Star Wars is the great George Lucas' gift to the world. Here is my gift to him, to it...and to you, brave traveller.

Click here to experience the vision.

phosfate @ 2008-06-23T19:11:00

2008-06-24T00:12:46Z

When you see the meme, quote something from Doctor Who:

"It comes on you, like sleep."

_{Man, that sounded a lot less dirty in the eighties.}