Cimblog

It's actually a subject of some curiosity for Mark whether Wardo really likes that many people that much, or if somewhere under the dense shell of affability and social conditioning there's a tiny core of judgmental superiority. Not because Wardo's ever given any sign of it, and Mark's done some judicious digging when Wardo was at his most inebriated - it's just that, well, he also likes Mark.

Really, he obviously does. It's not like Wardo gets anything else in particular out of their friendship, not anything he couldn't get from anyone else. He's better at algorithms than Mark is, and he's not even studying programming. Wardo is wealthier, taller, more fashionable, more social, and more conventionally attractive. Mark is marginally stronger and also better at fencing, but Wardo shows no signs of being a fencing fetishist, and it's not like he needs Mark to carry his books for him. It's usually Wardo who ends up carrying Mark's things that he forgets to take with him.

But meeting Mark's needy demands in bed also hurts Eduardo's back.

And his thighs. And his cock.

Mark hurts Eduardo's cock.

This...really should not be as surprising as it is.

“What happened? Look, turn on your computer and tell me if the quote’s accurate.”

Chris fires up his laptop and finds the first report, on the gossipy end of the tech blog. “Why are you asking? You don’t think it sounds like Eduardo?”

“No, I think it sounds exactly like the kind of defensive shit Eduardo always came out with when someone tried to call Mark out.”

Worse yet, the movie makes it all – the ups and downs of Mark's friendship with Eduardo – sound like a tragic love story with an unhappy ending, which it wasn't.

It wasn't a love story.

Was it?

“Miles. When I sat down to breakfast two days ago, we weren’t at war with anyone. Please tell me that’s still true.” He wasn’t sure how much of that statement was in jest.

Miles looked mildly offended, but a slight grin was playing around his lips. “Give me some credit, Gregor ...” I always do. “... if I was going to start a war I’d at least make sure someone else looked like they’d started it.”

"Why isn't he saying anything?"

"Give him time," another voice says; and this voice he recognizes, too. He looks where his mother is looking, and finds Raven Durona standing over him, hands on his hips, his mouth crumpled into an unbecoming frown. "Let him figure out where he is."

"When he was decanted," the Countess his mother says, "he looked around, clapped his hands together, and asked where his breakfast was. Why does he need time now?"

(555):
Hello, Ladies.
Good night (1 bajillion) Bad night (0)

“Please give the orphan children my apologies that I was unable to perform my ab xylophone recital for them. And if I'm not back by tonight, let the local wolf pack know that they'll need to accept my rain check to go hunting with them. Swan dive!” And with that, he executed a perfect dive out the nearest window into the cockpit of his personal supersonic jet. He put on his helmet and buckled up, first, of course. Being awesome is no excuse for ignoring safety regulations.

And yes, Yuletiders, this is one of the best fics. After all, I wrote it with a quill made from a rare bird with feathers made of gold which I plucked while writing a treat for you.


(Surprise Care Bear BDSM Orgy!)

Time Magazine 12/20/10
WOMEN OF THE YEAR, by Alice Liddell.

I arranged to meet the women of the Alliance for lunch at noon on Wednesday, but at ten the kraken was loose outside Seattle and at eleven-thirty there was the typhoon off Malaysia...

"There, you see? It's complicated, Water Sprite, and what I'm saying is, you have absolutely no idea what it's like to be a superhero of colour."

"But I'm green." The Water Sprite looked down at the back of her own hand.

"You're not human, you're part of an aquatic species where green skin is a mark of high status, so it doesn't count!" said The Belle in exasperation.

"Racist," said the Water Sprite with another offended column of bubbles.

"Item one for the next council meeting: diversity training for everyone on staff and especially the Water Sprite," said Cinder Woman. "Make a note of that, will you, Belle?"

“Whether or not the Grand Duchess of Marshovia has any abilities, skills, or other changes resulting from today’s attack is a question better saved for her. You may ask her when she is fully recovered,” Jasmine said.

“I don’t know whether the Grand Duchess plans to petition the Princess Superheroines for membership,” Belle said. “If she makes such a request, we will of course take it under advisement and evaluate her potential with our organization. It’s too early to speculate at this time.”

“No, this was not a standard sleeping enchantment,” Jasmine said. “We did not call on the Grand Duke to break it with true love’s first kiss because they had their first kiss many years ago—as is proved by their three children.”

• Tea This is the second box of Twinings "Passionfruit Mango & Orange" (lack of commas original to the product packaging) Tea I've bought that turned out to actually consist of lemon-flavored tea in P M & O-printed teabags. I'm bemused rather than upset by this, though. I've devoted a fair number of minutes to pondering exactly what happened in their factory to get this result.



• Soul-crushing/ shiny devices waxjism has been being forced to learn how to make the N8, our Messiah (since it's the phone that's meant to Save Nokia. Nokia made a huge loss last year, and this year is in the black and has been keeping up but not, as it were, making up for lost ground. And of course, Nokia is the single biggest piece of our GNP. Also the best publicized). She's not enjoying it. She wishes it were dead, I think. And on top of all that, it's another fucking Symbian phone.



• Teaching our elders about Internet memes and traditions When my parents were here, we made them watch Llamas With Hats and read Clean ALL the Things so that they would know what we were talking about (those are our Most Quoted Texts nowadays). We showed This Party Took a Turn for the Douche and The Man Your Man Could Smell Like to my bbsister, but failed to show them to my parents. You'd think everyone knew The Man Your Man Could Smell Like, but when interrogated, my dad revealed he didn't.



• Career thoughts Last spring I made that very irritated post about dippy hugbertism because I'd been stewing over the excess of same in my classroom assistant courses for a while. By the end of the semester, I was starting to entertain serious fears that I would die of dippyness poisoning before the end of the course. ( Read more... )