evil is SO COOL.

...because it is.

KERFLUFFLE! OR NOT! false alarm! ::wicked look::

cim thing: we have lots of tornadoes; a baptist church got mostly-destroyed while there were people in it praying.
cim thing: they interviewed people and one said that she just didn't understand why god had chosen to destroy their church, but leave untouched the adult bookstore down the street
fabricatedvoice: AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAA

GOD LOVES PORN! GOD HATES BAPTISTS! ...or wait.

cim thing: god's PUBLICIST didn't want him to make it all... obvious?
cim thing: that he loves baptists.
cim thing: so his publicist was like, smite a baptist church!
fabricatedvoice: WAHAHHA
cim thing: spare an adult bookstore!
cim thing: to throw them off the scent!
fabricatedvoice: god's publicist knew that god was favoring those damn baptists too much, and was like "uh UH honey, no way"
cim thing: god: can i grant their prayers in public?
cim thing: publicist: well.
fabricatedvoice: and god was like "you just shut up, these people know how to worship"
cim thing: publicist: only if they're not wearing a WWJD bracelet, and no holding hands.
fabricatedvoice: god: i don't know if i can do that
cim thing: god: okay, but after ONE... can i go back to smiting the adult bookstores :-(?
fabricatedvoice: publicist: if it makes the front page
cim thing: god: i'll see to that
cim thing: publicist: no, i don't trust you. i will.
fabricatedvoice: god: fuck you
cim thing: publicist: darling, not so rowdy. ::smooths dress:: this is a vuitton.
fabricatedvoice: god: you know what i hate you, i can promote myself, i AM god after all
cim thing: god: stupid fucking gay porn. ::muttermutter::
cim thing: baptists: praise the LORD, for he hath SEEN it all and i hath KNOWN the light of GOOOOOOOD, what did i say?
cim thing: other baptists: PREACH IT!
cim thing: god: ::covering eyes with hands, crying:: ::smites::
fabricatedvoice: anglicans: EXCLUSION, EXCLUSION, GOD'S A FAKE
cim thing: adult bookstore owner: he can take all the playboys he wants as long as he leaves my rabbit dildo and the gay porn!
cim thing: god's publicist: don't worry, honey. ::slips adult bookstore owner some money::
fabricatedvoice: baptists: OH, GOD, I THOUGHT YOU REALLY CARED ABOUT US
cim thing: god: can i answer? PLEASE?
cim thing: publicist: let them stew in it for a while. maybe the jews really WERE the chosen people, fuckers!
fabricatedvoice: jews: TOLD YOU SO, YOU FUCKS
fabricatedvoice: jews: LETS HAVE LATKES IN CELEBRATION

cim thing: claire: oy vey.
fabricatedvoice: cim: it's a kerfluffle!

some open advice to any boys who might happen to be stupider than my housemates:

okay, i'll give you that if you see a large table door lying about, apparently with no no using it at that moment, that it's just ASKING to be stolen and you of course must procure two sawhorses on which to put it. i'll give you drinking games. i'll even give you the living room cause it's closer to the kitchen and the bathroom.

i'm sure any boy could figure all that out by himself.

the confusion might arise when you're playing the actual game. clearly no drinking game is fun without multiple cups per person. just as obviously you can't be washing dishes all the time (or indeed, even as often as once a week) so that's out; you need to buy plastic cups. if your game gets unexpectedly interrupted by, say, everyone deciding to go to bed, make sure to leave the cups EXACTLY AS THEY WERE on the table, especially if you're drunk, because then you might not remember otherwise. don't empty the beer. the smell will come out of the couch. and finally--if you absolutely MUST throw away the used cups of beer--don't disassemble the table even if you do have to edge around it every time you want to go in the kitchen. sometimes we must pay these little prices and it's always better to be ready to drop everything for a drinking game at a moment's notice. furthermore, you wouldn't want to lose your cups in the pantry or one of the empty kitchen cupboards; these should be kept, still in the original plastic wrapping, on the motherfucking couch.

any questions?

i'm game.

this is scary. hmpf. due south quiz.

( i'm fucking frannie? )

don't tell me we were ooooooooooonly haaaaaaaaaaaaving fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun!

so guess what?

my fucking writing professor, a published novelist, hasn't heard of the myth of demeter and persephone.

man, i'm giving out a lot of gold stars lately, only i can't fit everything i want to write on the ribbon...

'te espero sentada,' another from shakira's first album. very bluesy. awesome. (translation mine)

i always wait for you sitting down on the corner,
and even more dressed up than for a friday night,
with no date made in advance
but with the simple intuition that i'll see you.

my eyes can't stop looking and looking
for the dark flint to strike sparks of ideas,
searching out more hollownesses inside of hollownesses,
looking for a light in the midst of this great sky.

oh, my sky, my poor sky.

i'm hiding my hands because i'm cold
and they feel odd inside of my purse.
now more than an hour and a half have passed
and you haven't appeared; my instinct has failed me,
but it's just that my instinct doesn't know the ins and outs of loves,
my instinct doesn't know that

living life without you is something like dying
is walking blindly, is singing and not hearing,
is speaking without breath, is eating and never being full--

because i've discovered you're the perfect form,
the exactly perfect remedy for all my ills,
and this is true.

( in spanish )

on the (mental) male anatamy

why don't boys make sense? because they're really all ALIENS
fabricatedvoice: YES
cim thing: and instead of brains they have ... milkshakes. with some little wires and computer chips floating in them.
fabricatedvoice: and a large section for porn
cim thing: maybe outside the milkshake
cim thing: boy brain = milkshake+ragged nasty stained cardboard file box with red 'XXX' on top in magic marker
fabricatedvoice: and a section for cars and stuff like that
cim thing: does that go in the box or the milkshake?
cim thing: let's not get too complicated, here.
fabricatedvoice: milkshake, their porn is sacred
cim thing: there can be micromachines glued to the computer chips
cim thing: they float
cim thing: floating micromachines
cim thing: it's sort of like... those dairy queen...
fabricatedvoice: AAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAAA
cim thing: only instead of candy, cars and random little synapses!
fabricatedvoice: THAT MAKES PERFECT SENSE
fabricatedvoice: boys have blizzards for brains

( how it works )

claire: i'm going to be here all day.
boy: ::tilts head:: okay, yeah, you know red cars are hot

fabricatedvoice: *snerk*

claire: so CALL ME OR DIE MOTHERFUCKER

fabricatedvoice: YESSSS

boy: ::jumps up and down:: okay... must go have porn now, bye! x.x

fabricatedvoice: AHAHAHAHA
fabricatedvoice: SO TRUE

(no subject)

1. earl grey is SO GOOD. x.x

2. 150 minutes of phone card is less than 30 minutes to call finland and wax. what the fuck. midsentence. ...i protest too much. they were almost-thirty minutes of loveliness that made up for a day at work nearly sick with worry. i'm paranoid.

3. there was an oktoberfest band in the dining hall tonight. they were loud. they were all old people. the song they were playing couldn't've been more than a double sheet of music. they'd play it through, pause for a bit and then start over. some repertoire.