Becah has a large knife, good lord

A PICTURES WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS

amirite?
Maybe.
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EDIT: Oh, I was trying to find a brush to write her name in, and while doing so happened accross one that looked suspiciously like blood and couldn't help myself:

OMG SCRIPT FRENZY!

Years writing: AUGH THAT’S HARD! AND THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE MOM SAID LAST NIGHT! But seriously. I don’t know if I’ve ranted enough about it on here, but I used to be a tiny child writer (except I was a tall child. KT(best friend) actually accused me of stealing her growth spurt once. That’s cold KT. That’s cold). My stories rarely made it past two pages. I finished one of them. I still can’t make up a decent plot. Then I switched to comic booking, which is still writing, but harder because you have to draw. Now I’m doing both.
Years total: 8 years
Years writing(not drawing): 3 years
Years drawing(but not considering it writing):2-3
Years of both: 1-2
Years doing things I would dare expose to the unblinking eye of the sun. Or, you know, people: 0
Least favorite character?: Umm…Arin. I guess that’s why he’s not a character anymore. No, I kid, I kid. But honestly, I don’t really dislike any of my characters.
Male or female characters?: Actually it’s surprisingly well balanced overall, though maybe leaning slightly more over into the XX chromosome area.
Oldest character written?: Ingrimm, i.e. the Grim Reaper. Dudes been around since pretty much the beginning of civilization, and they still won’t let him die. He might be contested by Shay, who is immortal and figured out the time stream, but I think Grimm deserves it more. He’s actually had to live with the whole aging process, and is senile, knows he’s being taken advantage of, can’t do anything about it, and he’s still being denied kids.
Longest you've written a character?: Farlons, very closely (if not tied by) Amara
Newest character?: durrp….uh, I’m not sure what her name is…it might have something to do with pine needles…don’t know the next newest character either…um, how about third newest? Reveren (yes, that is his real first name) Nicoli Lennos


Which character of yours would be most likely to...
Jump off a bridge?: …I’ll get back to you on that one
Get drunk and pass out?: Geld. Definitly Geld. Give him a drop of anything relatively alcoholic and he’s out.
Kill somebody in a very unorthodox way?: hi Shay…or actually Kama too…and Arryanna… Pi-Ban if you push him…think that’s it. I need to list all my characters again…
Be far too hyper for their own good?: Too many, lets see…Kaman, Anna, Dimitri, Dev (at times), Seth, Xilven, Ghost, Dexx, Zeypher, Cassi OHMYGOSHCASSI. Okay, question closed. All previous answers disregarded, Cassi is the permanent winner, now and forever.
Be raped?: ffff I dunno
Get lost and refuse to ask for directions?: Umm, any of them?
Get lung cancer?: Aidan…he’s the only one who smokes actually…of course, I did have this Idea for a story where he has to be killed and have his tissue taken (not in that order though) and both very painfully because he’s the one man on earth who’s immune to cancer, but I disregarded it. Putting ads for henchmen in the paper is expensive, even with the millions that you would make with the freaking ANTIDOTE TO CANCER. I’ll kill him off one of these days, but not that way.
Star in a horror movie?: ummm…Cassi. Best horror movie ever.
Star in a whore movie?: Jac or Vinin (she seems to be a bit of an unintentional slut)
Star in a video game?: Sya. She’s just that sort of just a little bit slutty, bossy, take charge, sharpen those weapons, Amazon who’s good at getting random dysfunctional weirdoes on her side.
Make the world a better place?: Keir-Tache, if he was ever an actual person. As it is he’s completely content to be Linda’s familiar.
Have a torrid gay love affair?: Jac


Relate each word to a character of yours:
Love - Arryanna/Darmis
Hate - Lucretia (though that’s more like self-hate)
Money - Kama
Seduction – Kama again
Lies - Zeypher
Tragedy - Grimm
Manipulation - Arch…that girl has issues. Which really isn’t surprising considering what I did to her what happens to her
Violence – The Paper Man *giggles like a ninny*
Politics – Reuben
Fire – welllllll….Finns got like, super magikal pyro powahs.
Ice – Dimitri, if only because I just got a picture of him in my head stuffig a tray of ice cubes into his mouth



Would you ever...
Write a prostitute?: ha ha ha yeah
Write a musician?: I did a whole cast of musicians in 7th grade. Dawn, Amber, Nim, Mickey, Haydin, Dev gudtiems. Oh, and Darmis can play a mean piano
Write a pilot?: Maybe someday
Write a homosexual?: Yep. I’ve even got a few on the list. Gwin, Becah, Kenny…gad what is my problem with giving my gay characters the opposite sex’s name…it’s not intentional, I swear!
Write a pedophile?: Maybe? That seems like the type of thing I’d figure out only if I had them for a while
Write a politician?: A good one? I wish!
Create a character for the sole purpose of smut?: Yes. And it will be female. I need an excuse to draw me sum boobies (this answer stolen from the previous meme-er, but it’s exactly what I would have written so ahm keepin it)
Write a character who commits incest?: Quite possibly.

Make up your own title. I'll bet it's hilarious. Maybe it has lasers!

…saaaaay! I remember this place!

But anyways. For the past week I, and a group of friends (namely Lawrence, KT, Forest, Sergio, and JellyBean-Marie (codenamed for my enjoyment and because JellyBean-Marie refuses to answer to the name of JellyBean-Marie in real life) have been working like rented pack mules to finish our long-term Odyssey of the Mind problem. This has included building a dummy (Dylan), me learning how to sew, paint fumes from 4pm to 6pm weekday, snippy and snippy between me and KT, more paint fumes, PBC piping, enough duct-tape to build a bridge from Alaska to Russia, me and Sergio learning how to use a power-saw, me and Sergio learning that power-saws are really, really, loud, Forest being a wimp, scenery falling down on all of us, JellyBean-Marie dying her hair orange, prop-building in general, and not eating or sleeping since last Sunday. So yeah, it’s been a fun week. And by fun, I mean horribly nerve wracking and fraught with snippy and snippy, fumigation (though at least half of us had some form of a cold and couldn’t smell a thing), me finding new random cuts on my elbow/ankle/thumb/hands/ect every morning, despair, anger, hope, laughs, hate, awkwardness and relief.

So yeah, I guess fun was the right word to use.

What all the other OM teams managed to do in the space of 4 months, we all did in a week. Well, we had 4 months too, but 3 ½ of those months were spent ‘brain storming’ and working on spontaneous. Go us. I think.

Speaking of the spontaneous problem, it didn’t go as well as it did last year. Last year, the judges loved us, gave us full marks, and wanted to adopt us and feed us soup. This year not so much, but thanks to KT (and probably Forest and Sergio. Forest more so than Sergio though) we didn’t do horrible either. Oh well.

As for how the actual long term problem’s performance went…well, maybe I should start from the beginning.

What’s that you say?

No? It’s fine? You really don’t want to hear?

Too bad :3. Last year, we did our script informally. We just all knew what we were supposed to do. That and it was mostly visual humor, but whatever. While there, we saw some performances by some teams that obviously had scripted their lines. You could tell from the monotone way that they said everything. So this year, we were opposed to actual scripts that told you what to say, but we had to find some way to get everyone to know what to say within the space of three days.

We never actually found out how to do it, but we still managed to scrape up third place, and get the OMer award (for going above and beyond) at that.
After that was all over, but before the award ceremony, the rest o’the gang and I went out to play…soccer? No…well, we went outside to play with a soccer ball, and Lawrence’s amazingly talented younger brother, Mini-Mex (it should be noted that people actually call him that). There we met the boy’s fan-club (surprising in that it’s usually only Sergio who has a fan-club, though, in her defense, she mainly seemed interested in him) again, who called them her ‘gangster-buddies’. Not making that up.

When asked why, she said it was because when she first met them they were doing ‘gangster things’. (in actuality, they were fooling around on a playground. Swings and slides, though fun, aren’t very gangster in my opinion, but hey, what do I know? Well, I know that the spotted hyena can carry strands of rabies in it’s DNA but does not develop symptoms. I also know some far creepier information about the spotted hyena that I’m not going to share with you). When asked what gangster things were, she replied with an insane giggle, and managed to get out ‘everything?’. I wonder about that child.

I also half wished Sergio had actually said his initial response to her when they first met, which was something along the lines of, ‘Yeah, I’m a gangster, and he’s my b****.’ I’m really curious on how she would have reacted to that.

Once the awards ceremony was over, everyone hopped in Mrs. Forest’s Mom’s car to drive to our combination church/school, were we all went to elementary and middle school for the single greatest event ever to be held once every two years.

Quo Vadis. *insert heavenly choir, violin music, a fangirly squeal, Unbelievable by EMF, a thrash metal version of ‘Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree’, or whatever else strikes you as properly amazing*
Oh yes. I can’t remember where the name comes from or what it means….wait a minute. I can just play ‘2 minutes on google’! Be right back. Okay, it means ‘Where you are going?’. It’s what made Peter turn around and go back to Rome to get himself martyred. IT’S AWESOME! What it basically is, is one big LARP (live action role play) at the church, set in the time when the Christians were being persecuted by the Romans! You get randomly chosen to be a member of the senate, senators, senator’s wives, Nero, some of the original Apostles (actually, with them and Nero, it’s usually an adult/teacher. Still awesome), concubines, a spy , a roman soldier or just a roman. As any of these except Nero, you have the choice to convert to Christianity, which means that during ‘night’ (there are four days, three nights in all) you go out into the school which has had all of the lights turned off, find a room and hide somewhere where you don’t think you’ll be found, and wait there in total silence, hearing the roman’s outside. It may not sound too nerve wracking, but with all the candy/cookies/pop/pizza that you stuffed yourself with (ie-sugar high), the good time you’re having, and the fact that you actually can be caught and ‘tortured’, the only way you’re not going to get jittery is if you haven’t’ put yourself into the game at all.
If you are caught by one of the Roman Soldiers who are let out into the dark school shortly after the Christians, then you’re taken back to the main auditorium (where the day phase takes place) and put in the holding pen until the soldiers bring you before Nero, and you can plead your case and possibly be let off (hasn’t happened to my knowledge), renounce you’re faith and depending on how convincing you are be let free, or be sentenced to death (crucifixion). That last one is what happens most of the time.
For ‘crucifixion’ you’re taken to another corner of the gym where people (usually your friends) chant ‘crucify him/her! Crucify him/her!’ and you hold a 2x4, and get ‘tortured’ by the soldiers, who have red, black, green, and blue face painting sticks. If you’re skin isn’t covered by something, it’s fair game.
You laugh, but it can actually get pretty brutal.
So instead, just titter.
Then, you’re taken to heaven, which is like the day part of Quo Vadis, but with better food, Apples to Apples and other bored games, TV, a white bored, and unlimited ice cream and toppings.
This year, I was a concubine; KT, JellyBean-Marie, and Andi (non-OM friend) were roman soldiers. Sergio and Lawrence were Romans (later converted) with mad-escape skill. Actually, only Sergio had mad escape-skills. Lawrence was just a cheater. I converted just before the first night, and ran out to hide, nearly getting torn limb from limb in the crush of those escaping from the auditorium.
The first night I was fine, but the second night the soldiers found me hiding under the bean bag chairs what happened was this:
Soldier with a vaguely familiar voice:Whats your name?
Me: …uh…Sparkles McCheesey
Soldier: No really
Me: (says name).
Soldier: Oh! You’re Lokii! Okay, never mind! Just go back to hiding. You’re cool.
Another Soldier: Wait, no! Who’s Lokii? We’re taking him (I’ve got a boy’s name) in, sorry.
(insert sounds of trying to burrow into beanbag chair, while at the same time throwing them before being caught)
Me: Crap
Other Soldier: that’s what they all say
So then I got taken to the holding pen where I related my story to KT, Andi, and JellyBean-Marie, before being escorted to see Nero. Unfortunately, my trial time was cut short, because as soon as I got there, Nero was saying ‘Get them all out of my sight! Take them to be crucified!’, but I was the first one to be crucified. After that I went to Heaven, ate ice cream with copious amount of wafer cookies, sprinkles and caramel, got ice cream stains on Andi’s shower curtain (I was wearing it as a toga), played Apples to Apples with some people I didn’t know, and later all the dead got released for the last fifteen minutes, to watch the big trade off.
Every year, there’s some sort of plot twist, because the people who the soldiers really want to find are the Apostles. This year, not only did Peter and Paul employ sneaky evasion techniques, but decided that they would trade themselves for the release of everyone who was in the jail at that time. Right as they were being taken away they both squirted the senate, but mainly Nero, with the holy water they had been using to ‘baptize’ the people who wanted to be part of the church.
I know I sound like a huge nerd right now, and generally if you’re not a nerd that’s a bad thing, but trust me, Quo Vadis is the best thing ever.
So Andi and KT, who had been told to beat Peter with his staff, gave it to me instead because they had apparently converted the night I was dead. So, all in all, you know it was a good day if by the end of the night you’re walking around in someone else’s shower curtain, paint all over you’re face, being the martyred ghost of a concubine, and you’ve got St. Peter’s Staff. Oh and ice cream. I had that too. X3

look ryhmes with duck if you'll just tilt your head

I feel bad about yesterdays whinetastic post, and so heres a special treat for you....A rant about signing artwork!-sarcasm-

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I used to do a little box with my initials in the lower right-hand corner but now...well, it's not like there's a point to doing it, as most of my art doesn't go anywhere more than three feet from my desk. It'd be neat if I had something impressive like some artists do, but my initials, my signature, they're just not that cool. I once had someone tell me (strangely enough, this was right before I started putting my initials in my work too. hmmm...-sarcasm-) that you weren't a real artist until you signed you're work. Weirdest. Substitute. EVAH. But after I had stopped, I realized that by those same standards, you also weren't a real artist until you moved to Paris, sold a maximum of four (but a minimum of one) paintings (and they have to be paintings mind you. No charcoal, pastels, or any other medium is to be used. Even watercolors are frowned on ):<), either had an unrequited love, or a marriage with someone who hated you. And the terminal illness! You also have to have either a terminal or mental illness.

F-R-U-S-Tration, sweeping the nation...(or at least my personal world)

WARNING: this post contains a rant. And not a good one mind you, a whiny, self-centered rant. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK. I'm terribly, terribly sorry, but I'm going to put it out here anyways. I promise, the next post will be saturated with (possibly)colorful doodles, drawings and jottings to make up for this.
As the title of this post would imply I am frustrated. I finally have my computer back and running and though thats always good news, there's a bunch of screwy stuff going on. first off is my tablet. Dear, dear tablet. The pen thinks it's the mouse, and the mouse thinks it's the pen, which of course is causing endless confusion. For those of you who don't have a tablet, I'll explain why thats bad. The mouse operates on speed, and the pen operate on actual position on the tablet. Annoying, annoying, annoying.
The colors at also weirding me out as they are about 5 times brighter than I remember them being, and all the pictures are weird and grainy. I can't see if I've actually highlighted anything.
Enough with proving the 14 year old girl stereotype. Back to surfen the web.

And then, like a Homicidle JellyFish, my Salsa was gone

I need to post something...hmm...I shall give you one of the footnotes that I wrote during NaNoWriMo. There were a ton of them, but I'd have to say that this one is my favorite, and the reason I was able to reach my 50K goal. Enjoy.
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* You know the one I’m talking about. Tttthhhh- Pluenthuk! From those disgusting bathrooms that you seem to always find when you really, really have to go to the bathroom and so you have no choice but to use them and so you’re walking to the stalls and the floor is smelly and gross and an odd color and you wish that you didn’t have that hole in the bottom of your shoe, but think Well, at least I remembered to wear socks this morning, but then you open up the stall, which, by the way, is just about to fall off its hinges thanks to rust and so you close it, and the lock doesn’t work. Well, actually, that’s unfair to the lock. It may, at one point in time have worked and might actually still work today except you don’t know where it is right then or what condition it might be in because somebody stole it. You know this because Ray, your cousin, was going on about how somebody stole a lock for some god forsaken reason and how he had to replace it, but nobody gave him another lock or told him where to get one, or even where a new bathroom door could be found, so he just drew one (a lock that is. I don’t know what else you might have been thinking that he drew but just stop it, okay? ‘Cause it’s not even funny) on a sticky note, and you helped him, it was actually your idea to use a sticky note and then you take it off and you read the back where Ray had written ‘Sorry. Our real lock was stolen by an Australian terrorist organization. Don’t panic though, it was booby- trapped so they’re all gone now. I suggest that you find another stall, but only if you really, really have to go. Otherwise, what one earth are you still doing here? These bathrooms are disgusting!’ and somebody else had written, ‘you’re telling me!’ and you briefly wonder why somebody looked at the back of a lock/ sticky- note but then you realize that you did the exact same thing, so you put it back and open up the stall door which is making some really ominous creaking noises that you would explain further, if you were say, oh, I don’t know, write an 50K word book, except in this book (hypothetically of course) the last time you tried to explain a noise you ended up writing about nasty bathrooms for some reason and you just don’t feel like making yet another footnote because that would just be weird, but you’re not even writing a book then, you’re just trying to go to the bathroom, so you heave a sigh and twist your legs tighter together, lest your bowels revolt and add to the disgusting bathroom floor and then you think, Oh, maybe that’s why these floors are like this! People couldn’t find the stalls in time! But then you think about it a bit more and realize how silly that is, because the bathrooms must have been nice at one point in time (I mean, really, how many people will purposely create ucky bathrooms? Not very many, let me tell you) and so who had peed on the floor first? Then you feel really silly, because there’s a perfectly good potted plant right by the door to the bathroom and they would have just used that. Duh. So then you go and you open up the next stall, seriously hoping that it’s okay because the type of bathroom that you’re in is one of those really small ones where there’s no mirror (it got stolen too, according to Ray) and only two stalls, which you think is kinda weird because usually these types of bathrooms will have at least three, but whatever and after you check the lock to make sure it’s still there, which it is so that’s good and you’re just about to sit down when you happen to glance back and you see the toilet and you suddenly realize why the bathroom smells the way it does, for some slob has left his smelly leavings (le gasp!) and my gawd its enormous, you didn’t even think that it was possible for someone’s diarrhea to be that bad. In fact, the only thing that you can compare it to is that in that book that you’re hypothetically writing, its one footnote that tries to explain a sound and ends up having a five thousand plus word footnote, and so you’re thinking that if that footnote went through a machine that turned writing into its real world equivalent (for instance, if the Harry Potter books went in, something along the lines of magical fruit punch would come out) then instead of magical fruit punch or even normal fruit punch, the stuff that was in the toilet would come out and the machine’s inventor would ban you from ever using the machine again and that bitter old sod would also make you clean it up and so mentally, you would stop calling him a bitter old sod and change that to a bitter old sot, which you’re pretty sure doesn’t actually mean anything and is just another word that you made up and that your English teacher is always telling you to stop using in your papers and then gets a bit miffed when you bring up Alice in wonderland and the Jabberwock and the jub- jub bird and also how he couldn’t even make those words up himself, he had to use drugs to do it and you didn’t even have (that much) caffeine coursing through your veins when you had made them up, so there, plus, you also think that if the inventor really was an old sod, that he might actually want the mass of what you are now referring to as gross- nasty, in homage to a good book that you read a while back called Dear Dumb Diary or some such, because bitter sod that he was he might actually want it because, you know, gross- nasty would be fertilizer or something for him, and then you remember the potted plant and you think about what a seriously morally bankrupt thing that would be to do to a plant even if he was bitter and old and making you clean up after your hypothetical footnote. Then you look back down at gross- nasty and decide then and there that for the good of your bowels and also because you can’t possibly twist your legs any more than you already are and you think you may have heard something go pop that you’re just going to use the potted plant because if cow poo is fertilizer your, *ahem*, number one, should be okay and maybe even healthy for the plant, but you don’t believe that for one second and really, you’re just hoping that you don’t kill it because it seems like a good little plant. Then you think about the condition of the bathrooms and the smell and the frequency of Australian terrorists to it (Australian terrorists are notorious for their cruelty to plants), but first you (because you are of a kind and gentle disposition and do not wish evil on anybody) lean over and try to flush the toilet. You have to make sure that you don’t breath in because the smell is so malodorous (which, by the way, happens to be the Lets abuse Microsoft’s Thesaurus word of the day) that you’re afraid that if you get a direct whiff of the stuff that your eyes will roll back in your head and you’ll pass out, falling into the aforementioned smelly leavings of the aforementioned slob and that would just be gross. And nasty. So you hold your breath and reach over the bowl to the flusher stick that nobody ever thought to give a name to (well, either that or you forgot it, but really it’s probably the former) and you push it down with one finger because given the state of the rest of the bathroom you really don’t want to risk touching anymore of it than you have to, and so down it goes and your finger kinda hurts, but that’s okay because your just being a baby about things and so you hear the water rushing in to take care of the leavings, just as God’s rains came down and swept away all but Noah, the animals, and his family and for a second you even think you see him and his wife climbing out, but then you just realize that, no, it was a trick of the flickering light bulb above you and that it’s actually a couple of flies who had been feasting on what passed for gross- nasty’s (or would it be gross- nasties? No, I think I used the right one, because the second one would be numerous gross- nasties and you don’t even want one. That would be horrible, not to mention cruel and unusual) flesh and they look at you angrily because you just totally crashed their party, but they can’t do much because they’re flies and you’re a human and so they buzz off, mourning the loss of gross- nasty and you manage to hop out of the bathroom stall, I say hop because your legs are wound up like a twisty tie and you bladder feels like it’s going to pop, and so like I said, you hop on over to the potted plant and, with one hand on the door lest somebody come in, you pee in the plant in a way that I’ll let you imagine for yourself because I am a girl writing this and so for me of course, this is all taking place in the girl’s bathroom (this, men reading this, is also why you noticed a distinct lack of urinals) but if you’re a guy it would be very awkward for you to be in a girls bathroom (so please, just imagine that the urinals got stolen too. Don’t worry, they were booby- trapped too, just like the lock. The mirror wasn’t’ but I’m sure that when the lock exploded that the mirror did its part by proving to be an excellent source of shrapnel) and so you are imagining this taking place in the men’s bathroom. On top of all this, men and women both have very different ways of doing their oh, heck with this I’m just gonna go ahead and write pee. What’s my problem? Its just pee. Everybody does it. Wait, what? You don’t pee? You’ve never peed? What the heck is wrong with you man?! You need to get to a hospital or something! pee in different ways. Right, so and after that, you zip your pants back up, wishing you had taken some toilet paper, and then you think, well, its not too late, I can still get some, so you open up the stall with gross- nasty in it, expecting to see the vile thing gone but instead you find that its bigger. You didn’t even think that that was possible, but there it is, in front of you and it’s growing bigger by the second. You suddenly come to an awful conclusion: Gross- nasty is soaking up all the water. Horrified, you forget all about the uncomfortable, slightly wet feeling in your undies (or boxers, if that’s just the way you roll) and you race out of the bathroom to go hide in the candy rack of the gas station that this is all taking place in, the breeze that you create as you leave taking with it a single leaf of the plant, its silent thank you for the merciful euthanasia that you have provided. I’m coming mother, the breeze seems to whisper and slowly, the plant dies, your urine coursing through its system (over a period of about 3 to 6 days. Sorry, but your pee just isn’t the fastest working poison in the world). After cowering in the candy rack for a few moments and probably scaring the seven year old who was trying to shoplift a pack of jujubes by making this weird wookie sound in the back of your throat that you make sometimes by moving your uvula back and forth, you realize that you should probably tell somebody about gross- nasty and how it’s growing larger by the second, but then you realize that when you tell somebody, they’ll think that you’re gross- nasty’s creator and that would be seriously embarrassing, so you just wait for a while until you figure the water has stopped coming and gross- nasty has stopped growing (hopefully) and so you carefully get out from the candy rack and this one teenage girl who’s wearing these really cool, almost combat boots that you think you’d like and under normal circumstances you’d go over and tell her how much you liked them ask her where she got them, but she just watched you climb out from where you were hiding in a candy rack of all places, not to mention you think that it may have been her little brother that you scared off, and so you just walk by her, mourning the loss of not knowing where she got those awesome boots, but then as your walking past and trying to avoid eye contact because she’s kinda staring at you and your almost certain that she’s judging you and you really hope that she doesn’t ask you why you were hiding in the candy rack because then you would have to tell her all about gross- nasty and how you peed in a potted plant to help in out of it’s sad, sad half- life and then she would look at you really, really weirdly and you just don’t want to go through all of that, but then to your horror, she looks at you, opens her mouth and says,
“Hey, thanks for stopping my brother from stealing that candy. He is such a little brat. He shoplifts all the time and my mom doesn’t believe a word of it, she’ll tell me to stop trying to get him in trouble. You can’t imagine how happy I am that somebody has finally caught him in the act.”
And so you say how it was nothing and you guys chat a little bit and you ask her where she got her boots and she says that she got them from Target and so your all like, of course, and you two talk about how wonderful target is until her little brother comes back and he opens his mouth to say something and then he sees you and he turns a very delicate color of grey, not quite unlike the color that your Uncle Frankie turned that one time when he had too much of the spiked eggnog that your mom had put out when everybody came to your house for Christmas that you and Ray weren’t allowed to have because it was, of course, spiked and so you two just hid under the table, hidden by the festive Christmas tablecloth and told scary stories because Ray had gotten a crank flashlight and so what other kinds of stories would you be telling? But you really weren’t too good at making up scary stories and so eventually you gave up and just watched Uncle Frankie get drunker and drunker, until he finally went into sort of this weird mini coma that to that day you still weren’t sure what it was, because if he had passed out you wouldn’t have been able to wake him up, but that part comes later. So anyway, Uncle Frankie had gone into his weird mini coma and so you and Ray, because nobody else is in the room (they’re all watching a football game and avoiding Uncle Frankie in the other room) you go upstairs and get one of your mom’s bras, though it’s a bit hard to find them because when you were really little you liked to get them and put them on your head and run around the neighborhood wearing nothing but the bra on your head and a towel that you had stolen from the bathroom and pretend to be super fly or the fly man or sometimes McFly. This for some reason really embarrassed your mother, even though when you got older you started wearing clothes when you did it, she was still embarrassed and so nowadays (or rather, thenadays) she would hide her bras from you, but she wasn’t too good at it and so after you found one, you went back downstairs to where Ray was waiting for you because he had been assigned to get a couple of grapefruits from the fruit dish (you didn’t have a bowl) and so the two of you put the bra on Uncle Frankie and then you put the grapefruits in, which was hard because you mom’s bra’s just weren’t that big but you managed to do it and so then you were about to dump so ice water on him to wake him up, but before you did that, Ray saw his little sister’s ‘Hannah Montana’ wig and you put in on him and then splashed the water on his face and he woke up and was really groggy and so you and Ray started yelling about how the sex-change operation had been a complete success and asking him how he felt and he thought you and Ray were just kidding until you showed him a mirror and his face turned the exact same color as Amber (the girl with the really cool target boots and the little brother who shoplifts and is now possibly maybe hopefully scared for life)’s little brother did when he saw you, only her little brother didn’t run down into the family room and start yelling to everyone watching TV about what their two brats had done to him and how his girlfriend wasn’t going to be happy which was a good thing, because if Amber’s little brother (who’s name turned out to be Jakey) had done that, then it would be really weird, not to mention completely out of context. What he does do however after turning this delicate, Uncle Frankie-esque shade of grey is to stare at the floor and mumble something about wanting to leave and so Amber rolls her eyes and says how she has to go, but first you exchange email addresses (because you don’t have a cell phone) so you can talk later and you feel a bit embarrassed when you give her yours because it’s something you made up when you were really little and so it’s pretty cheesy, but you feel better when Amber gives you her’s and says how she thinks that its sill because she made it up when she was little too and how it’s really stupid, but you tell her that it’s fine and that yours is too and it actually turns out that hers is Tweetybird48, which isn’t nearly as dumb as yours, but whatever and so they leave and you remember about the bathrooms and the horrors that lie within (i.e.- grossnasty) and so you go up to the counter where Ray is working and you wait until the guy in front of you is done checking out and you analyze what he’s getting which seems to be an assortment of chocolate laxative, cigarettes, a lottery ticket, and 24 packs of the store made beef jerky which you and Ray both know isn’t really beef, but whatever got stuck in the glue traps that morning, along with snakes that your and Ray’s friend who also works at the gas station, though he isn’t there right now’s cat, Leo, Leonardo di Vinchi, di Caprio, Dry Bones IIIV would catch and leave in his bed. It is safe to say that Leo, Leonardo di Vinchi, di Caprio, Dry Bones IIIV did not like Ray’s friend very much, though you couldn’t blame it really. You would leave dead snakes in somebody’s bed too if they had named you Leo, Leonardo di Vinchi, di Caprio, Dry Bones IIIV, though it was a smart move by Ray’s friend to use his cat’s hatred towards him to help further the process of jerky making, and the man left with his chocolate laxative, cigarettes, a lottery ticket, and 24 packs of mystery jerky and so you go up and Ray says hi and tells you that you were in the bathroom for a really long time and so you tell him about how you met and talked to Amber and also about grossnasty and how it grew and Ray goes very, very pale and after a glance up at the security camea he whispers our of the corner of his mouth, like the two of you are being watched, which of course you are. Maybe. At this point in time we have to bring in something to this story that we have previously avoided, bring in that is, the metaphysical. You see, you and Ray are being watched by the security camera, but there is nobody watching the tape at the moment, and it is possible that no one ever will. It is also possible that there could be a break in and the tape would be reviewed by many a high ranking government official who would see the two of you taking as well as the man buying his chocolate laxative, cigarettes, a lottery ticket, and 24 packs of mystery jerky, or something really funny could happen and so the gas station would decide to send the tape in to America’s Funniest Home Video’s and it would be seen by millions of people, but as it is Ray is just being a little eccentric and overly dramatic as always, so you don’t think much of it and concentrate more on what he’s whispering to you which is something along the lines of, “Oh Dear God, what have you done woman?! You have fed the beast! Quick, before some scoundrel sees us conversing over it, go and tell Natasha about it because that stupid rule says whoever finds it or gets told about it first had to clean it up! Run dear cuz, run like the wind!” and so, your respect for Ray, and your memory of his slight germ phobia along with you being of the kind and gentle persuasion, the kind of person who would never wish evil upon anyone and so you go to the back where Natasha, Ray and you’s (when you’re working there. You’re not right now, but you had nothing better to do, so you decided to hang out with Ray) coworker, and you tell her how you were in the bathroom and you opened one of the stalls and you saw grossnasty there but you don’t say grossnasty because Natasha has always thought that you and Ray were a couple of weirdos, ever since a couple of years back when the two of you had pretended to be superheroes and had ran around the gas station, outside of the gas station and on the gas station’s roof, though you and the authorities still weren’t sure how you had gotten up there and like I said, you and Ray had been pretending to be superheroes, or at least you were until you pushed Ray into a vat of toxic waste which was actually the ice cooler but no self respecting superhero has ever fallen into an ice cooler, but when Ray came out, he wasn’t a superhero anymore, he was a supervillian and so the tow of you started fighting, but you’re not sure why Natasha is so bitter about that, but you think maybe it’s because when you were running from supervillian Ray’s wrath you had to jump up on the counter and you accidently stepped in her pasta which she had been eating for lunch, but seriously though, that was two years ago and she should have gotten over it by now, especially because when you and Ray did your monthly masked marauder misadventures (Ray was fond of alliteration) the two of you were really, really careful not to step in her lunch, even when she wasn’t having pasta. She had even complained to your boss about it, but according to Ray he had just laughed and said something about people coming every month, just to watch the two of you’s continuing epic battle between the forces of good and evil and how that one time when you hadn’t been able to do it because you were in a full body cast because of an encounter with some vicious wolves in what had either been the forest or the Art hallway of your school, but you really weren’t sure, because when you think back, you just remember a lot of barking and growling and bad breath and then everything goes kinda fuzzy, the store’s income rate had dropped dramatically. At any rate you don’t have a problem with Natasha even though she obviously has one with you, Ray and/or superheroes/supervillians in general, so you just say that there are some smelly leavings in stall number two, the one that still has a lock and that you thought she should know and could she go clean it up and you also suggest that she might light some scented candles or something and replace the mirror and maybe even think about getting a new plant and then you realize that instead of killing the plant you could have just stolen it because anybody would have just assumed that it was those darn Australian terrorists again, but then you think how if you had decided to take the plant home then you wouldn’t have been able to go to the bathroom and then you realize that the floor in there needs to be scrubbed or mopped or ripped up and burned or something and so you mention it to Natasha along with the other stuff and you smile because you’re feeling that warm, charitable glow that you always get from helping to clean bathrooms, but Natasha isn’t smiling and actually she’s glaring at you and maybe giving you the evil eye, but you figure that she’s doing it wrong because you would guess that when somebody’s eye is twitching that badly, that it would probably mess up whatever enchantment they were trying to put on you. Then she looks over at where Ray was, but you can just see the tufts of his weird, orangy hair that he had, even though he was born with brown hair like you, he does a whole lot of swimming and so the chlorine combined with all the sunshine has kinda bleached his hair. That and his onetime not too long ago when you squirted lemon juice in his hair just for the heck of it and told him that it was just water, so he went out into the sun to let his hair dry and well, you know what happens after that…except Natasha didn’t care about how Ray’s hair got how it was and neither does the lady who he was checking out at the cash register and she looks kinda confused, but she just sighs and your guessing that she’s thinking that with everything else that goes on, this really isn’t the worst that could happen. Natasha on the other hand lets out something that’s halfway between a growl, and the weird throaty noise that your friend Chris made when she was attacked by a rogue artery shrimp and her blood was forced to flow backwards, which is funny because all Natasha has to do is clean up grossnasty and then you realize what you just thought and think that she would be better off getting attacked by a whole pack of artery shrimp, and so while she stomps off to the bathrooms, you go back to where Ray is hiding and you tell him that she’s gone and so he stands up and tries to act like his shameful display of cowardice didn’t actually happen and so he checks the patient lady about and tells you that you need to start working longer hours at the gas station, because it gets boring with just him and Natasha even if she is really good at killing the undead zombie minions of the witch doctor who lives two blocks down and has been sending them down ever since she bought some mystery jerky that gave her a rash, which is a real pity, because you know from experience that rashes are absolutely awful things and so you tell that to Ray and he’s about to quote something from Don Quixote, but all of a sudden you head Natasha from the bathroom and she saying something along the lines of “Oh my God! What the heck is this thing?!” except she didn’t actually say heck, or even h*ll, but something completely different and so then she comes back out and grabs one of the lighters with funny messages on them that you really liked looking at when you were a kid whenever you were checking out until you got older and realized how stupid they actually were, but Natasha doesn’t even stop to read it, she just tells you and Ray to get a bucket of water and goes back in to the bathroom, stony faced, so you and Ray look at each other and shrug and so you both go get a bucket of water and go back into the bathrooms where you find that Natasha has dismantled the smoke detector on the ceiling, and she has the door to grossnasty’s stall open and Ray takes one look at it and turns as grey as Uncle Frankie but stands his ground and so Natasha goes over to grossnasty who’s name was now the understatement of this millennia and she flicks the lighter, puts it down by gross- nasty and it erupts into foul smelling black flames the screams streams of curses at you and hungers for your soul and you and Natasha jump back and Ray kind of faints but manages to retain his composure, even though you’re supporting him so he doesn’t fall on the disgusting floor and watch as Natasha says “That’s how it’s done!” and you nod appreciatively, looking at Natasha with new respect in your eyes, but Ray who’s still a bit woozy asks how gross- nasty is burning because if it has so much water in then it shouldn’t be able to burn, and you and Natasha give Ray weird looks but decided to write his stupid question off as his nausea talking so you explain very slowly how gross- nasty is evil incarnate, and just like witches, ducks, wood, rocks, metal, and diamonds, evil burns very well, and then Ray realizes just how stupid his question was and the embarrassment wakes him up a little bit which is good because your arms were starting to get mighty sore because Ray is about a foot taller than you and all that swimming has actually given him some muscles so now you can’t beat him in arm wrestling, unless you move you other hand up really quick, yell divine intervention, and overpower/ take him by surprise. The three of you wait until the vile curses of gross- nasty have died out and then you douse the flames with the bucket of water and with any luck, you boss will just think that somebody was smoking in the bathroom again or that one shortish teenager with the big feet and the spikey hair had been lighting fires that he made out of the toilet paper and the mystery jerky again, and so as you, Ray and Natasha walk out, with a strange feeling of kinship rushing over the three of you now that gross- nasty has been defeated and the three of you are pretty happy but then all of a sudden, completely shattering the peaceful atmosphere a zombie crashes through the store window which does not make the sound that you expected it too at all, but that’s okay because then you remember that it’s been happening so much in the past few months that the entire front of the shop is pretty much just saran wrap which will double as glass to your nearsighted boss in a pinch. As the zombie stumbles around it lets out a horrible groan and four others quickly follow it, growling like feral, uh, growly things that, uh, growl. Yes. And as they begin to lay waste to the gas station, Natasha pulls out her two knifes, each stolen from the ancient tomb of a sorcerer so powerful, that to even say his name meant death, that is of course, as long as thinking it didn’t drive you insane first but Natasha said that if her job hadn’t yet, she was sure that the knives weren’t going to, and as she races up to the first zombie and proceeds to make eight razor cuts into it’s back, the symbol of the Egyptian sorcerer, which bursts into flames, the air it’s self not being able to bear the curse as Natasha could. Ray, fumbled for his gun, a slightly gaudy brass thing with many exposed gears and wires that he had made himself and modified to shoot silver bullets and immediately began to cock it, and then you reach for your vorpal sword and then realize, oh horror of horrors, that you left it at home. Thinking fast as the zombies keep pouring into the gas station, in numbers greater than ever before for something that you could use, and suddenly, you remember the toilet plunger from the bathroom. Racing back as Natasha shouts at you to, “Stand and fight you freak!” running in, closely followed by a zombie who is gnashing his teeth in anticipation of your ever so tasty flesh, and just in the nick of time you grasp the plunger and pull, but it is stuck. You pull and pull but you can’t get it and the zombie is breaking down the door and growling again (though really, when do zombies ever stop growling?) and remembering how you always manage to “win” arm wrestling matches, you grasp the plunger with two hands and tipping you head to the heavens you yell in a loud, commanding voice, “DIVINE INTERVENTION!” God up in heaven who has been watching the whole affair with growing amusement says, “VERY WELL” and the plunger comes up with a noise that’s it something along the lines of “Tttthhhh- Pluenthuk!”, more specifically though, it comes up in a sound exactly like the one that happened when Shay Richter let the uncast magic loose right at the center of the second triangle, allowing the glyphs to be temporarily over written and allowed a small portion of the dark magic to escape. This sound effect has been brought to you by ridiculously long footnotes everywhere.

Qwerty ate a Deer

First things first (a special message that's important, brought to you by the department of redundancy department, who are responsible for the first three words of this post): the title of this post has nothing to do with it's content. I've been getting a bit tired of making them have something to do with the content, so I may just title these the same way I title my Word or Excel thingies, er, documents.

Second things second: I have found the most wonderful Valentines day** cards. Evah. Also, they are wildly inappropriate. I loves them so. Okay, well, if you're mind is as perverted as mine, then not that perverted. Hee hee. Give these to all you're friends, stalkers, random people in the park, special someone or your gerbil*, though, like the creator (the amazing Nicole Chartrand, who can be found here: http://kitsune.rydia.net/ . Go there!) I don't suggest giving them to people who's good opinion you want.
I'll stop rambling now, Here they are:

(to get larger, printable versions, just right click on the picture and drag it up to the tab bar)
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*Actually, your gerbil would get the most use out of them, especially if you print them out on nice, thick, cardboard. I mean, seriously. Your friends will either laugh and throw it out, tape it to their locker maybe, but eventually throw it out. You're special someone will slap you depending on how well they can take a joke. Your gerbil however will get some a nicely perverted Valentines day message, as well as keep their ever growing teeth in check.
Seriously though. Give them to your friends. I know I am.

**WHY AM I STILL POSTING ABOUT VALENTINES DAY???WHYYYY????