Ink Stains and Empty Teacups

THINGS NO TO RIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS.

Thu, 22 Dec 2011 23:56:31 GMT

1. Fracture your tailbone falling down a flight of stairs on your arse. It hurts like a motherfucker, I don not recommend you try this a home, folks.

2. Because you are in pain when you move and are consequently grouchy, choose now to stand up to your mother as she's laying into to you. Especially not the night before you're due to join her for Christmas.

Merry holidays, y'all.

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Things I realise at absurdly early hours.

Wed, 23 Nov 2011 14:41:59 GMT

My tendency to discover shiny new fandoms just as coursework deadlines loom has not gone unnoticed, is all.

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Thu, 06 Oct 2011 20:44:17 GMT

Pan Am, why so brilliant?

Like I needed more reasons to ignore the mounting coursework, swear to fsm.

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Oh, Period Dramas! Be still my fangirl heart.

Thu, 22 Sep 2011 17:29:01 GMT

Downton Abbey is slowly stealing my braincells, why is is not sunday evening 9pm GMT already?

Procrastination instinct, you officially have the worst timing ever.

Srsly.

Also, DADT? STICK THAT I YOUR JUICE BOX AND SUCK IT.

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sigh

Sat, 02 Jul 2011 20:39:50 GMT

Clearly, in this life the embed video tool and I are not destined to be friends.

On the upside, BANANA BREAD BEER YOU ARE ALL MINE.

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Fri, 01 Jul 2011 20:09:03 GMT

Fri, 17 Jun 2011 10:07:44 GMT

Clearly my mind has been addled by an assortment of pharmaceuticals, because I'm watching 1stcasskink.

I may have released a monster.

My inbox had 573 updates from 1stclasskink alone.

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Wed, 15 Jun 2011 13:17:39 GMT

Apparently, horseflies abso-fuckin'-lutely love my blood. This is a very bad, horrible, no good thing.

My arm is like the size of a grapefruit.

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Sat, 04 Jun 2011 01:32:13 GMT

Dear universe, the sudden bout of cabin fever is in no way, shape or delineable form appreciated.

Also, the DVLA is a black void of suck.

No love, Me

Ps. The insomnia is unappreciated. You may have it the fuck back, kthnxbye.

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we who are about to die salute you

Sat, 04 Jun 2011 01:26:55 GMT

My mother has Twittter.

Iamsoveryscrewed.

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Head count, people?

Sun, 22 May 2011 11:13:01 GMT

So, either the Rapture happened and I'm screwed, or it didn't and there'll be no end -of-the-worlding til 2012.

I dressed up an' everything.

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When life hands you interne restrictions...

Tue, 03 May 2011 23:24:37 GMT

...You should most definitely not eavesdrop when you stepfather tells your aunt that a glitch in his internet capper means that it won't come into effect at the allotted time if you are still on the internet at the cut-off time. TAKE THAT, B.T.

Also, a question for the flist : When the Clinique lady said the skin sat comfortably on my cheeks, should I have taken it as an insult? Especially when she asked if I used anti-wrinkle cream (I'M IN COLLEGE, FFS)?

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Sun, 17 Apr 2011 22:07:48 GMT

OH, GOD.

Why did I go looking for podfic? My iPod has no space!

*wail*

I CANNOT HAZ.

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Fic: Though The Heart Be Still As Loving, Donna/Colby, Numb3rs.

Wed, 30 Mar 2011 16:27:48 GMT

Title: Though The Heart Be Still As Loving, (aka The One in Which Chuck and Tam should spend less time evolly enabling each other)
Rating: NC-17, to be on the safe side.
Words: 628 says Microsoft, so caveat lector.
Prompts: Mortar, Song, Bribe and Ritual.
Warning: Born-a-girl genderswap, soldierly language, gore, Fedcakes.
Characters: Donna Eppes/Colby Granger
Summary: Donna Eppes was never what anyone expected.
Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly. Title appropriated from Byron's poem 'So We'll Go No More A'Roving'.
Notes: So, Tam, would this count as a firstborn?

( Mortar. )

( Song. )

( Bribe. )

( Ritual. )

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FOR BOOSETTE

Fri, 11 Mar 2011 12:14:20 GMT

i CAN HAZ SLOTH?

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Dear Anyone-who-has-ever-mentioned-Leverage-to-me,

Fri, 04 Mar 2011 17:07:52 GMT

HATE YOU ALL. HATE YOU ALL SO MUCH.

May the FAIL be with you.

(Goodbyeeeee coursework!)

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Things that Sweetheart has learnt...

Fri, 25 Feb 2011 03:35:37 GMT

The Internet? Will not help rid you of your insomnia.

It will in fact only encourage you to find movies/read fic/watch Supernatural etc etc instead of flagging down Dream Angus.

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Wed, 16 Feb 2011 20:28:49 GMT

Aresenal is playing Barcelona. This is a mistake.

I have just been informed by the oh-so-sage commetators that '(football) is a hard game to play without the ball'.

No shit.

Also, not one of the players on the pitch looks old enought to walk into a bar and legitimately order a beer.

(Haggis for tea. IDK.)

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OMG YOU GUYS.

Sun, 13 Feb 2011 16:10:34 GMT

FRANCE IS PLAYING IRELAND FOR THE SIX NATIONS AND I CAN'T TAKE THE TENSION. THERE IS A FRENCH DUDE WHO FOR REAL LOOKS LIKE A CRUSADER WHO'S MISPLACED HIS SWORD AND UNF.

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I really should know better by now.

Wed, 02 Feb 2011 16:57:18 GMT

Today has just been one colossal case of opening One's mouth merely to change feet.

I may or may not have mentioned in passing conversation that Dad wants to start up a pension fund for me and my sisters.

This was not a good idea.

Ma went absolutely bugnuts monkeyfuck insane. And is now angsting like a damsel wronged because she now won't be able to get within 20 years of said money.

...Ooops?

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THINGS THAT MAKE NO SENSE.

Wed, 26 Jan 2011 15:17:30 GMT

Gizmo the Kitten sitting on a stool, nodding her head like a Bobble-Head Doll.

Why?

IT'S A CAT. ON A STOOL.
...
NODDING.

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In which it was really my own fault

Wed, 26 Jan 2011 14:11:52 GMT

I've been been to see my new and very lovely hairdresser, who is lovely, did I mention that already?

Anyroad, the outcome of said appointment is that my hair is now about three inches shorter (still covers my collar bones, so result) than an hour ago, but on the plus side, it no longer feels like someone mixed candyfloss into the ends when I brush (read:battle) it.

The moral of this story? Sweetheart really needs to have her hair cut with something approaching regularity.

And keep her mother away from the peroxide.

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Mon, 24 Jan 2011 23:07:28 GMT

Once again, my punctuality issues get the better of me without me! 'Sweetheart: She Was Always Late' will be graven on my heart.

Supernatural is brilliant, but a word to the wise? Being in the dark and under your covers will only ramp up the batshit freakiness 'til you jump like a little girl.

There is no way in hell I'm getting to sleep tonight.

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Halp, flist?

Fri, 21 Jan 2011 17:16:43 GMT

Muse Donna has decided that not only does she want a crossover with CSI:NY that coincides with her days in Fugitive Recovery and Don Flack in her bed, but she now wants me to engineer a child from that unholy mix.

She even made me create a time-line.

HALP.

(But on the plus side, The Un-Named Series now has a name. And it's a sekrit)

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Adventures in the South

Fri, 21 Jan 2011 17:08:59 GMT

I have returned! Lay on the fatted calf, crack open the fruit juice, write the Prime Minister etc etc.

Suffice to say, it was madness. I ask you, who goes to Torquay in January? TO A PLACE WITH NO INTERNET? My family. Of course.

Day 1

Arrived in Torquay after stopping in Stockbridge for reasons known only to Gogo.

Seen apartment and promptly switched after batting our eyelashes like Scarlett O'Hara. New digs don't look like someone stole the decor from a nursing home, so improvement.

New apartment is situated in a different part of the hotel, and as consequence, I shan't be using the elevator, as it's all a bit Adddam's Family. The thing is barely an inch taller than me and I kid you not, it's carpeted on five sides. Thing looks like a coffin, for fucks sake! Gogo and Aunt, however, find it hilarious. You can hear them giggling their tiny arses off in the shaft.

Day 2

Debenhams. We come all the way to 'The English Riviera' (the sign lies, it lies like a bloody rug!)[IN JANUARY] and our sightseeing involved Debenhams. Three times. In three days.

Day 3

Visited Buckfast Abbey. Lovely, peaceful, very Catholic. I kept expecting some fierce, hatchet-faced Benedictine monk to loom out of the masonry and urge me to repent for all my fannish ogling and for bringing the two most un-religious members of my family (Nutty Anti-God Gogo and New Age Aunt) into it's hallowed halls.
I am this close to pulling out my cross and St Christopher to show that I do believe, even if I'm Protestant when Gogo points to the screened off chapel reserved for quiet prayer and tells me in the loudest voice possible that there are some nuns in there praying so I should be quiet. I haven't spoken a single word since we entered the church.
We leave before Gogo can start informing the nuns that religion is bollocks.

Day 4

Spend the day reading and watching movies. Fun In Acapulco is genius, and why didn't I know about Elvis movies before? New Age Aunt has decided that my passing resemblance to Ursula Andress is enough of a reason to whistle the James Bond theme tune whenever I enter a room.

Day 5

I am not getting in the car with Gogo ever again. I don't care if I have to walk to Devon next time!

Day 6

Ahh, home at last, just in time for a root canal.

Ain't life sweet?

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