"On the other hand, well... The sympathy I felt for the characters as characters was kind of low. I know, we're supposed to rejoice in their bohemia! but I kept thinking, "Why is it evil to want to be paid rent for a building you've paid money for?" The concept seemed to be that wanting cash was OMG SO EVIL and art was OMG SO GOOD, but realistically I kept thinking, "Man, what a bunch of whiny freeloaders." I mean, they don't even put the garbage can back on the street once they knock the lock off the door - what jerks! And they're complaining about how they're cold while they fling fire out the window? Not bright, either."
He also talks about the sillyness of the songs. '"Five hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes - how do you measure a year?" You just did! You measure it with a damn watch, you fruitcakes!'
He did fail to mention that they messed even that up. A year is about 525949 minutes long.
Today we went to the Smithsonian! We looked at dinosaur bones and paintings and bought overpriced food. Now our feet hurt and we are sick of Impressionism. Tyrannosaurs are still pretty awesome though.
A men. That is pretty close to my feelings whenever I visit an art/natural history museum.
buttsex is an anagram for subtext
the above is something that made me chuckle from
The loot:
Well we do this advent thing and I think I'll start there.
Advent:
Once Upon a Time and Once Upon a Time Dark Tales, Barenaked for the Holidays, A Trans-Siberian Orchestra Concert Dvd (also has a story. I didn't pay too much attention to the video the first time, prefering to listen mostly.), and a Milk Chocolate Almond whacking orange thing. Also, a fair amount of candy.
Christmas Proper:
$225 in cash, most of which went to presents and a movie and a few dinners.
15 dollar Lowes Card from Rick and Sherry.
Firefly Boxed Set (Brie and Lloyd)
Serenity Movie (Mom)
Best of Bare Naked Ladies (Lloyd)
6 pack of Staples Optiflow (really optiflow 2) pens
second six pack of Staples Optiflow pens *
Pocket Kite
Descent: Journeys In the Dark Board Game
Long Live the King (How to host a murder sort of thing)*
Second Battle Map*
All in One Wind Up Flashlight
Sharn City of Towers*
Laser Printer
Girl Genius Book 4 and 5
Battle Angel Book 4
Towel Set (Aunt Christi)
50 pack of CDrs.
Marvel Civil War 5*
Milk Chocolate Toffee Orange
Also
Got to See Jessica and Christiane and the McClures, and it is entirely possible that Nate will be here (though this is his first Christmas with his new girlfriend, so I wasn't pushing that too hard. You get the first one for free with a SO, but then life must move on.)
* means things I used Christmas money to buy myself.
So, I'm making things to give away to persons and I just came to the awful realization that sitting in two largeish containers on my kitchen table there is something in excess of 30,000 calories worth of not quite finished chocolate and peanut butter candy. And mom is intending to either make or have my brother make another batch (I made a double.) Which means the kitchen actually contains somewhere in excess of 45,000 calories of the makings of these candies. You should come over and eat them for me.
goddamnedmuthafuckshitshitshithell
My computer just decided to screw up in a manner that I can't repair. I've got workarounds, but nothing that I can fix and walk away.
It claims not to be able to find ntldr.
I created a boot disk from the other 2k box in the house. My computer boots fine with this disk. But when I copy it to the hdds and reboot, I still get the same message. This screams "screwed up book sector" or possibly "fubared 2k installation" (which I already knew, I didn't need further confirmation damnit.)
Neither of those problems are hard to fix. The first I'd go into the recovery console and type two commands.
The second, I'd format the harddrive and reinstall (which I need to do anyway)
Why don't I?
Because my copy of the windows 2000 disk was shattered into many little pieces by someone several years ago. And of course I haven't bought a new one. I've been mostly broke.
So currently I'm booting from a floppy disk like I'm back in 1993 trying to free up 24 more kilobites of ram to play Aces of the Pacific.
I obviously need a good bitching session. And maybe a new computer.
It is 3.5!
I just realized something. The game I'm running is D&D 3.5. Undead Elven Ninja Assassins are totally legit!
107 World War Z Max Brooks. I should have read this one months ago. Other than the base premise, the book was completely reasonable. Well, actually, I’m not sure that the various survivor populations would really have acted as sensibly as they did in the end, but gods, the Israel thing in the beginning, exactly right. Even down to the ultra-orthos’ response. A pure bio-zombie that didn’t gain nourishment from eating people wouldn’t actually last all that long though.
My brother has to do a journal for his english class. Each day they get a writing prompt. Today I played along and wrote an entry for the prompt he was writing. My goal was to keep it close to 150 words. Need to tighten up the sentences a bit for that. Or double the length to make the transitions more natural, or do both. Not particularly good, but the creepy factor is edging up to what I was aiming for. Some more work and I think the creepy could probably wrap its fingers around the story's neck and giveit a good hard shake.
He haunted the night like a silent guardian. He watched her sleep and dream in her room. His vigil went unnoticed, unmarked. She never saw him in the daylight so why would she suspect that he watched through her window at night? Some day, surely she would notice him, see his devotion, see the hidden inner spaces, the parts he kept from his friends and family and she would not be repulsed, no, she would come to love him as much as he had come to love her. They were destined to be together forever. He reached out and could almost feel her satiny skin, the smooth silky of her hair, but no, the window still stood between his arboreal perch and her nocturnal demesne. They would live together in a little cottage just the two of them, and she would make him breakfast and he would keep the others from coming to their home. But wait, what if she was unfaithful, like all the others? No she wasn’t like the others, she wasn’t fickle. He reached into his pocket and ran his hand over the springy masses, all that he had of his earlier loves, cartilage and gristle and tattered skin, taken so that he could always hear what they heard down at the bottom of the old mill pond.