On Manipulation
Jul. 16th, 2009 10:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sorcyressMan, me bitching about how much it sucks to be strangely attractive and win the hearts (or at least the pants) of all the boys1 is probably not actually a very polite thing to bitch about.
I mean, I might still anyways, once I shore the entry up. Especially if I can get it back on topic. I am *terrible* at keeping essays on topic.
Semirelatedly, if you catch me playing Shitty Girl Games, you are more than welcome to call me out on them and laugh at me.
Differently semirelatedly, the idea of literally winning the pants of all the boys is honestly a pretty awesome concept.
Unrelatedly, I want to learn how to make origami newspaper hats. I don't really feel I can honestly claim to be able to do origami without being able to make A) newspaper hats and B) paper airplanes.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: All of them. Seriously, pretty much every boy2 there ever was. As superpowers go...great power, great responsibility and all, but yeah, it kinda rocks.
2: Okay, not the ones that Veronica gets. Those are hers.
I mean, I might still anyways, once I shore the entry up. Especially if I can get it back on topic. I am *terrible* at keeping essays on topic.
Semirelatedly, if you catch me playing Shitty Girl Games, you are more than welcome to call me out on them and laugh at me.
Differently semirelatedly, the idea of literally winning the pants of all the boys is honestly a pretty awesome concept.
Unrelatedly, I want to learn how to make origami newspaper hats. I don't really feel I can honestly claim to be able to do origami without being able to make A) newspaper hats and B) paper airplanes.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: All of them. Seriously, pretty much every boy2 there ever was. As superpowers go...great power, great responsibility and all, but yeah, it kinda rocks.
2: Okay, not the ones that Veronica gets. Those are hers.
no subject
on 2009-07-17 02:48 pm (UTC)For some reason, the mental image that comes to mind is you standing at the prow of a ship with giant sails made entirely of stitched-together pants.