I Am Completely Serious

Gandalf is afraid of what’ll happen if he wakes him up, so he’s sitting down over here instead.

This family strongly believes that names for pets must, out-of-context, make all descriptions of their behavior appear to be excerpts from NC-17-rated crossover fanfic.

Other mental exercises:

Ophelia bitch-slapped Kim Jong Il* at dinner, and I had to separate them.

Gigi’s probably not going to come down until we get Lenin inside.

Michael Faraday is having his testicles removed next week.

* The cat was actually named after the original Pink Ranger. I have since mentally changed the attribution several times (she was Kim from Doonesbury for a while) because she’s technically my cat and I can.

(This text was originally posted on LiveJournal. It has been reformatted (awkwardly) for use on WordPress.)

Apparently, Yukito Kishiro is taking some time off the main Last Order plotline to start a series called GUNNM Gaiden/write some side stories? Or something? You’re not helpful today, internet.

I’d actually be kind of okay with that. I feel like Last Order is moving really slow. Over the first seven volumes of the original GUNNM, we had like six plot arcs spanning about fifteen years. That was one of the things I liked so much about it. It was a fighting manga with no filler! No monsters-of-the-day! A new, absurdly melodramatic plotline that completely breaks Alita’s heart almost every volume! This was awesome.

But at seven volumes of Last Order, we’ve only covered a few months of time - the past three volumes have just been a couple of days. And they haven’t really been eventful days, by Kishiro’s usual standards. An eventful day for Alita used to be:

( cut for massive spoilers for first series, minor spoilers for Last Order )

Continue reading “(I am never, ever going to get to sleep.)”

The United States has given me mutant paranoia senses. Coming outside this morning, I realized that everything smelled really bad, and also that there was a loud grinding or pouring noise from somewhere. I did not think, “Dude, the celestial cat pissed on god’s stove*,” then “They must be doing some kind of weird construction again.” No, for that is the reasonable response.

I thought, “Dude, the celestial cat pissed on god’s stove,” then, “Oh shit we’re getting biological warfare’ed with grindy-sound burnt-cat-pee bombs why does international law not forbid grindy-sound burnt-cat-pee bombs why.”

This concern actually seriously affected my concentration on studying for this morning’s history midterm. I was sitting in the basement of the library thinking about those biological weapons I read about for essaypocalypse, trying to remember if any of them somehow involved urea.

I started composing this post in my head then, to shut my paranoia centers down. However, I did not let myself post it until now, because first I had to check the internet to make sure no one did use biological weapons on my campus. They might not tell us!

But now that I’m sure it’s safe, I think I might go into town to get stuff to make sushi.

-

* I can only hope that this metaphor is not as vividly familiar to others as it is to me.

(This text was originally posted on LiveJournal. It has been reformatted (awkwardly) for use on WordPress.)

I guess the internet’s been having Big Creepy Bugs Week or something? There seem to be more people than usual having horrible bug encounters on my friends list, and there was a thing on one of the _wank comms about people wanting bug pictures kept under lj-cuts.

In middle school I would always carry a thing of dental floss in my bag, which I would use to make little leashes for the preying mantises I beat out of the bushes at recess. That sentence should be giving you a pretty accurate picture of my social life at the time.

But it also means that I can totally look at those centipede pictures on FW and then go right back to my crunchy sandwich.

Today, however, I looked at Boing Boing. And there was the fucking hummingbird hawkmoth.

I seriously don’t think you should click on that link. ( You probably shouldn’t read the rest of this, either. )

Oh my god that thing is awful. It took me a second to realize it wasn’t a hummingbird. That’s what’s so bad about it. Hummingbirds are nice, and big moths are okay, but a really big moth that looks like a hummingbird, with a thick body and a bunch of ineffectual little tapered legs with no feet - that is Lovecraft. And its eyes aren’t where it looks like they are, and its front half is shaped like a vibrator, and it would be the worst thing ever to have come flying at your neck because it’s so much more fragile than a bird and its little proboscis-thing would break off and it would be hurt so it wouldn’t stop flying around and shit.

And I’m not going to be able to fix this by fucking looking at kitten pictures, either, because I’m going to suddenly became convinced that one of them is actually a freaky bug that only looks kind of like a kitten, and its eyes are actually infrared bits or sticky traps for smaller bugs. Please, someone tell me that a mad biologist bioengineered that thing, so I can go kill him for it.

Before, the only Boing Boing person I had conceived a personal hatred for was Cory Doctorow, because he shares my basic politics, but fills them full of a kind of viscerally unpleasant self-absorption and paranoia. But now I hate Frauenfelder, too, for the much sounder reason that he thought the creepyfuck bug was pretty and just slammed the picture up on the main page with no warning. I want to slap him really hard.

I had a nightmare a few years ago about a computer virus getting printed out, and getting up off the paper as a really big, really thin, translucent bug with a lot of wings that it didn’t actually use to fly - because it was a program, it was immune to air, so you couldn’t wave a magazine at it to blow it away from you, so it just kept coming. This moth is actually worse than my made-up dream monster. I would still hate the moth if you told me that every last one of them had died last night because of air pollution.

-

Also, here is a webcomic.

(edited a couple times to correct the date and put a cut in)

Continue reading “AAAAAAAGH”

A combination of the quality of the material my cheap jeans were made with, and the positioning of the expensive MP3 player in my pocket over the past couple of hours, has inflicted upon me an irritating dermatological condition which I term “nerdrash.”

Don’t steal my term, jerks.*

The buds on the tree I can see out the hall window get bigger every day. Tomorrow morning I expect to find that they have, sometime during the night, suddenly exploded into monstrous, bloated, cabbage-like growths, smashing some poor frat dude too drunk to ever have known what hit him into the window. His slow slide to the ground will leave a sickening smear of blood and pollen trailing down the glass. Also, arbitrary alliteration.

Spring is malevolent. I keep *sneezing* and stuff.

* It’d be even better if I could somehow connect this with Passover.

I finally got volumes six and seven in from ILL yesterday, and I read them last night, and it was almost unbelievably slashy* and I was right about everything it just all came out at the end of volume six, and now I can completely truthfully say that I’m using Pokemon comic as one of the primary sources for my senior research.

I think I’m going to ruin some people on scans_daily’s day when I’ve got some more free time; I don’t feel up to explaining the awesomeness of this manga right now and without plenty of visual aids scanned in.

* and I looked up the illustrator, MATO, last night, and saw that she does Gundam Wing doujinshi for-Christ’s-sake, so it’s not my imagination

ladyringolane is having a grande mal emo-zure in there. She woke me up a while ago playing something about girlfriends and the color brown, and just now it was “Iris” (which she claims is the world’s emo-est song) and then something really loud with a hoarse guy yelling stuff*.

Yet even over this, I could hear her pounding on her keyboard, having been spurred on to a pivotal emotional point in her latest story about gay cowboys in Nazi Germany who own restaurants in the rain.**

Go, ladyringolane, go! Ganbatte, imouto! Fight! Show the rest of Fanfiction.net who’s boss.

And turn down the volume at some point before I go back to bed, please, I’m still looking over my shoulder thinking a girlfriend is breaking into the house to steal all our brown.

-

* It wasn’t Conor Oberst; unbeknownst to many, Oberst suffered a tragic marching band accident in his youth that permanently shattered his yellin’ bone. With access to today’s cutting-edge technologies, he might have recovered - but physical therapy was not as advanced a discipline in early-80’s Whingeiana as it is today, and the treatment he received basically just consisted of being slapped for forty-five minutes each day. It was later determined that this has no real medical value.

** This sentence may not accurately describe my sister’s oeuvre; it may, rather, stem from a hallucination induced by being woken up all of a sudden.

Today, I abuse inter-library loan.

Tomorrow… my trust as President!?!?

* see battle here

It is completely ridiculous that I cannot find a single copy of Pokemon Adventures: A Trainer in Yellow. Viz obviously printed at least a *couple* - they admit as much on their website - and I’m the only person alive who actually *wants* one. So where *are* they?

There ought to be all these self-conscious high school and college students quietly selling off all their really incriminating manga cheap - I mean, I am *prepared* to take advantage of these people. But I *can’t find any*.

This is going to turn into one of these things where I’ve got to order the damn manga in French from Quebec, because the Anglophone publishers don’t properly appreciate it, isn’t it? I thought we’d put those days behind us, Viz. I’m very disappointed in you.

If anyone reading this thinks they might possibly own a Pokemon manga with a blond kid in a straw hat on the cover, talk to me. You can pretend a confused aunt gave it to you for Chrismukkah or you bought it thinking it was gay porn*, I don’t care. I just need this thing. I am looking at Amazon.ca right now.

* It’s all subtext.