more richard dean anderson/michael shanks driblets

inching closer to the smut southpaw526 asked for. i meant to, too. i'm a wimp--what can i say?

and the challenge was ( freudian slip )

i get so stuck on leaving and i think i'll stay

southpaw526's plane is delayed, so in case she doesn't make it in time for the late late showing of the new episode of stargate, i bought some tapes at the store. and i figured out how to program the vcr in under fifteen minutes (applause please)! i had to leave the icecream in the car to get the tapes at target, but am sure it was worth it.

did you know they make mint m&m icecream? -_- mmmmmmmm.

also, i met big!gay! andy, who cautioned me about the hundred year old letters i will be typing up. although they were in the state geological survey's records, they're apparently somewhat hot to the touch, being concerned with a big ol' scandal that has not entirely blown over, 100 years later. walter bryan jones, for whom the building daddy used to work in is named, was the state's first geologist, i do believe, and his son is still alive and living in town. andy thinks i might get in trouble if i talk about the contents of the letters.

so of course i will just post them on the internet instead. stay tuned, yo!

hey... i can type letters at home, burn them to cd or save them to floppy, and take them up to him! no freezing my nipples off in the cold cold office! yippee.

bitching about family emergencies and too many concerned people.

unfortunately, having a disaster means you have a lot of shit to deal with.

there's, like, cleaning up a disaster shit. running the house by myself, trying to figure out how to visit. taking care of things dad can't take care of--mail, my little sister.

and then there are all these well-meaning people--church, family--people who keep calling, although it's gotten less in the last couple of weeks sort of gradually. after something tragic happens there are several things i would never in a million years want to hear, and they include 'sorry' and 'if there's anything i can do' and 'how are you.' i don't even know how i am anymore. and i really don't want to talk to these people. i need a butler ('her majesty is not at home').

(no subject)

is anyone who has text messaging willing to give me their cell number? i want to test and see if it works.

edit: this only works in the usa. it's a sprint phone, so i guess those are more likely to work.

sherlock holmes and holmes/watson icons

changeling7 graciously agreed to accept one. if by some odd (and slim) chance, someone else is interested in the genre, you're welcome to what she doesn't want.

just holmes:


holmes/watson:
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amusingly, i found most of these via links at 'the sherlockian.net holmepage.'