(no subject)

NEXUS POST

((As I write these posts, I'll link 'em in here. I'll set it up so that this is at the top of my page for a couple weeks --if there's anything you especially want to hear my thoughts on, drop a comment, and I'll try to get to it faster.))

(The following is roughly copy/pasted from my 'big list of stuff to write about' file)

*Geohashing is cool

*Balticon
**Werewolves, JungleSpeed (and Flower Power!) and Covert Action
**Ooo, Rob Balder music! Yay!!
**Susan, and secret plans involving dancing. (seeeeeecret!)
**Other...general Balticon reporting
**OH! OHmygod, Japanese Steakhouse, yep

*Keira, thanks for iTaf

*Robert Asprin is dead.

*Jobity Job

*Wanting of the booze (I, uh...have no idea what this is referring to, actually. It'll be an interesting post, I suspect!)

*My cat fell over (...I suspect that this will not result in a very long post.)

*artdump liek soa woah
**My disintergrating grammar skills
**"Oh yes. Of course us forty somethings are more familier with the internet lingo than the college student" --ShadowKev

*Dan4th said...
"Also, @ the world in general: "freaking the mundanes" isn't cool or subversive. It's just mean. Stop it."

*WFF post
**Never slept with a guy under thirty. (By which I mean shared a bed, not 'had sex with'. Still a virgin, kids.)
**Carts! Tiny Carts! That I got to drive around the place!!
***Also, brakes failing. :D

*Games played:
**Family Business
**A to Z
**JungleSpeed
**We Didn't Playtest This At All
**Ticket to Ride
**Beyond Balderdash
**Also, Coupling

*Escape From L.A.: "Dark Paradise" (I think this is a note to myself to rough out an rp world in LA. Not sure)

*Team Greykell rest stop, woo.
**Might I add, that was yesterday, and I was outside pretty much the whole time
**And was busy volunteering so had to miss dinner proper
***Not that I'm bitter or anything

*Dancing! Because I always need to post more things about dancing!!
**Being at the Conservatory for the first time in...god, four years? Longer?
**Grand Marches ++
**That...dance...thing that Renee was teaching that I utterly don't remember the name of, except that I think it started with a Z (and yes, Tho, I just pronounced that 'Zed') and it had waltzing and pivoting.
**Bitching about form, and how much I need to work on mine. (*le sigh*)
**Ruthlessly hooking my dance claws into la_vie_cynique (Dancing at Oella next Sunday, babe! I'll get you directions. :D)
**Need slightly more practise leading the turning waltz. Need more practise both following and leading the cross-step waltz. Need lots more practise following the redowa. Need heaps and loads and tons more practise leading one-steps, foxtrots, blues, and swing. Need to learn Lindy. Need to do a lot more tangoing, until I actually understand it on a slightly more fundemental level than "You know how blues is just a really sleezy one-step? Tango's are just one-steps with attitude. (This is mostly notes for myself, but, you know, good to have regardless)
**P.S: "Gun Song" is apparently a waltz? At least bits of it? Yeah, look into this.

*Day Camp!
**Ohholyshit, I'm an adult
***No, seriously, ohholyshit, I'm an adult
**My unit is the peacocks. Shouldn't we, ah, be the peahens? Seeing as we're mostly girls, what with the whole...'girl scout camp' thing?
***Think they'd object if I convinced the girls to dress in drag? :D
**Blue Canary in the outlet by the lightswitch!

*Secret Plans
**Good summer for it
**Need to talk to jobity job guy
**Airplanes will fly from Caliland to Bawston, yeah?
**SEEEEEcret

(no subject)

"Gay nuptials: dilemma or BOHNANZA!?" (Emphasis mine)

~Headline from the paper today.

***

George Carlin died. This pretty much completely blows, and I'll probably be sad and write some sad thoughts later. Or just dig up my copy of 'Napalm and Silly Putty' and reread it.

~Sor

Shit piss fuck cunt cocksucker motherfucker tits.

"I'm the ice box man at our house. I'm Ice Box Man! I answer the call when there's a need at the ice box. Two very important responsibilities, the first one is: keeping people from standing with the door to the refrigerator open for more than 45 minutes at a time. God, that gets me mad - "YOU WANT TO CLOSE THAT GODDAMN DOOR PLEASE? YOU WANT TO CLOSE THE DOOR?! YOU'RE LETTING OUT ALL OF THE COLDNESS I SAVED OVERNIGHT! COME ON, CLOSE THE DOOR!" - you know, some guy smoked eight joints and he's gonna inventory my refrigerator. "Ummmm...Ummm...Uhhh.... "Here, here's fifty dollars- go down to the Burger King. Willya, God! We'll save more than that on electricity alone. Close the goddamn door, willya?"
Look, if you wanna know what's in there, why don't you take a Polaroid picture and go away and look at the picture and then come back and figure out what you want. Years ago, we didn't have Polaroid cameras. We had to make an OIL PAINTING of what was in there!

Aah, I don't let it get me down. 'Cause there's a bigger responsibility. And that is getting into that refrigerator and deciding which things need to be thrown away. Most people will not take that responsibility. Most people will just go and get what they want, leave everything else alone and say, "Well, someone else wants that. Someone else will eat that" Meanwhile, the thing is getting smaller and smaller and smaller and is, in fact stuck to the rack. Well, I've got to go in there and decide when to throw things away. "Chocolate pudding? Does anyone want this last chocolate pudding? I have just one chocolate pudding left. It's only pulled away from the side of the dish about three inches all the way around. And there's a huge fault running through the center of the pudding. Actually, it's nothing but a ball of skin at this point. Does anyone want a ball of fault ridden chocolate pudding skin? I'm only going to throw it away."

Do people do that with you? Offer you some food that if you don't eat it, they're only going to throw it away. Well, doesn't that make you feel dandy? "Here's something to eat, Dave. Hurry up, it's spoiling!" "Something for you, Angela. Eat quickly, that green part is moving!" "Here, Bob. Eat this before I give it to an animal." Y'ever been looking through the refrigerator and you come across an empty plate? Boy, that starts me to wondering. Did something eat something else? Maybe the olives ate the tuna! Maybe that chicken isn't really dead yet. Actually, I picture a little mouse with gloves and a parka on, y'know. Just waiting for the lights to go out.

Perhaps the worst thing that can happen is to reach into the refrigerator and come out with something that you cannot identify at all. You literally do not know what it is. Could be meat, could be cake. Usually, at a time like that, I'll bluff. "Honey, is this good?" "Well, what is it?" "I don't know. I've never seen anything like it. It looks like...meatcake!" "Well, smell it." (snort, sniff) "It has absolutely no smell whatsoever!" "It's good! Put it back! Somebody is saving it. It'll turn up in something." Thats what frightens me. That someone will consider it a challenge and use it just because it's in there.

It's a leftover. What a sad word that is. Leftover. How would you like to be...a leftover? Well, it wouldn't be bad if they were taking people out to be shot. I might even volunteer. But, y'know, leftovers make you feel good twice. D'ja ever think about that? When you first put them away, you feel really intelligent- "I'm saving food!" And then, after a month, when hair is growing out of them and you throw them away you feel...really intelligent- "I'm saving my life!"

When you make a sandwich at home, do you reach down past the first three or four pieces of bread to go down and get 'the good bread'? It's kind of a self preservation thing, y'know? What you're really saying is, "Let my family eat the rotten bread! I'll take care of Numero Uno!" And down you go into the loaf. Down, looking for the two that you want, a matching pair. And you have to be careful pulling them out so they don't tear. And then when you get them to the top, the upper eight slices fall the other way. I never straighten them out. I think, screw it, let 'em think a burglar made a sandwich. Not my job, straightening out the bread.

Gotta tell me. In the refrigerator, who is it, please that puts into the refrigerator the half-gallon containers of milk with only that much left in them? I get one of those every time. Hey, here's some milk- fooom! ...God, not enough to drink. Better put that back, huh? I know my responsibilities."

--Ice Box Man, by George Carlin (1937-2008)

He'll be missed.