Folks, I appreciate you’re trying to be nice/open up conversations, but please stop putting my posts on Metafilter and Reddit and such. Dealing with the fallout is really, really trying.
Latest: Dear USians is up at Metafilter, the site founder closed the thread, there’s now a new thread. I am not going to be around to deal with this as I have a cousin coming to stay.
Of course, I guess there’s nothing really to do, so nothing really to deal with, on the plus side.
Thanks u guize. :D I hope your weekend is as entertaining as mine!
I don’t need any of your artificial awesome breakfast time supplements to boost my awesome. I exude awesome. I am made from awesome. No: awesome is made from me. Small children collect my awesome in jars, intending to sell it for extraordinary amounts. However, they’re so taken with my awesome they keep it under their pillows instead, sometimes waking up in the night to glance at their little vials, stroke them, watch the glass light up in response to their touch. Only then can they again sleep peacefully. They asked permission to use a photo of me next to “awesome” in the dictionary, but I am too awesome for the dictionary, so I declined. I’m so awesome, there are several religions in my honour. The adherents select their best warriors to do courteous annual battle in the form of poetry. The intention is that the best poem describing how awesome I am will win for that religious group the battle, except this never works out as the only being awesome enough to judge how awesome I am is me myself, and I care not for such petty considerations as these battles. In the distant past, a Chinese philosopher dreamed he was me and then, upon awaking, could never be sure if he was truly himself, or merely a figment of my awesome imagination. Acid rain isn’t really acid rain, it’s rain containing the corrosive power of my awesome. And I need hardly tell you what global warming’s really about. I’m so awesome it hurts. And I’m too awesome for Milan, too awesome for Milan, New York and Japan. I’m even too awesome for Gallifrey. In fact, I’m so awesome I invented Gallifrey. Malcolm Hulke? Terrance Dicks? Robert Holmes? Ten-zero-eleven-zero-zero by zero-two from galactic zero centre? Am I bovvered? I’m so awesome I bovver Catherine Tate. I’m so awesome the creators of those artificial awesome breakfast time supplements cry about me at 8.15 every Tuesday morning, they’ve got it booked in their company timetable, galaxy wide.
Does that answer your question?
David Tennant. Plot? Aliens? Special effects? Memorable moments? Am I bovvered?
THIS IS A JOKE. I don’t have a favourite bit from Doctor Who, really.
Well, I keep half of my robot self hidden in Tennessee, which no one suspects, so that works out for me. I sometimes have problems where I burst into TALKING IN CAPITAL LETTERS and threatening to take away toast from white people, but that generally gets dismissed as a bit of oddness on the part of my mild mannered alter ego. So that’s not too hard.
As for Bat-Chally, I’ve developed an unfortunate crick in my neck from turning dramatically to look at the sky whenever I see my Bat-Chally signal. Usually I just wear my outfit under my regular clothes, which is trying on hot days, but I try to keep my fluids up. I’ve taken to pretending I’m doing homework as a cover for my nighttime crime-fighting activities. The worst bit is probably that my costume isn’t machine washable, so I have to find time when no one is around to do that by hand. So, you know, it’s something of a lonely life, being a superbat, but someone has to make the criminals pay.
I’ve never painted my toe nails in my life.
I don’t see that there even needs to be a debate about the letter U. Clearly a good and just society can only be produced by virtue of using this noble letter. To argue a point so self-evident is BENEATH ME.
‘I must do that more often. I mean the, the detox.’
For everyone who has no clue what we’re talking about: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bcbW-1FWSOc
I am unsure. Maybe you share too much already and there is nothing left to ask? Perhaps no one can think of a question they think is worth asking? Maybe they are unaware that you have enabled the ask function?
Also, with the asking of the question there? Really transparent move in trying to get people to ask you questions. Now eat some breakfast and do some other work, Feministe posting can wait.
I sometimes see people taking the authors of newspaper articles to task for the headlines/subtitles.
Did you know that when you have an article published in a newspaper, you do not get to pick the headline? Or the subtitle?
The editor does it.
Everyone who’s ever had a piece published in a newspaper or other sort of publication (on or offline) is rolling their eyes right now, but it surprises me how few people are aware of this fact. Likewise, authors of books are often forced to change their titles. And do not get much say into their book covers.
I’m just saying, if you have ire about book covers/titles/headlines, it’s probably justified, but it shouldn’t be directed at the writer, but rather, the editor.
That is all.
If I could go back in time and get some of the titles on my pieces changed… also the formatting. Writers do not control newspaper formatting. The weird paragraphing bothered me, too; I’m not the one you should complain to.
I went through this ridiculous saga today trying to find a book, which included going up to the top floor of one of the largest libraries in the southern hemisphere (it’s supposed to be the second largest but I can’t find a source just at present ARE YOU PROUD OF ME, ANNA? DID I MENTION THIS IS A HISTORY BOOK, ANNA?) but OF COURSE of the only two copies one is out on loan until May and the other has MYSTERIOUSLY DISAPPEARED. I told a librarian, once I had located one on this rather high floor, and all that but no. So I tried looking it up on Google Books while gawking down at the city, but of course I’ve not yet registered my computer for Internet access in that place because I didn’t think I’d need to. So I rode the elevator down and got a strawberry smoothie, which made everything better. Of course, I have now checked Google Books, and it’s on there. The end.
So, your smoothie brings all the books to the yard?
You’d better believe it.
So, I am having my hair trimmed today. This necessitates straightening in order to cut it evenly. Which, on the one hand, is great because that makes it all long and lovely, and I’ve been wanting long hair for about sixteen years. I have been wanting long hair for that long because my best friend as a tiny child was a white girl with long straight brown hair.
The flipside of it is that the hair is straight as well as long. And at this stage we are probably all aware that I closely resemble a white person and my hair is the main factor in making me not even more closely resemble a white person. So for the next few days, I will be in that horrible place of ‘ooh, length - oh, there is a person looking at me, I bet they’re reading me as white, aren’t they????’
Yeah, I have issues. Must keep remembering: my identity is my identity, no matter what anyone else thinks; I don’t look like a white person, because I am not white, and therefore this is what a non-white person looks like.