June 24th, 2009

rengeek kit icarus

who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?

Or, as I said to rikibeth tonight, "I have hated this song for 25 years."

She and I went out to Haven tonight to get our Goth on. It was Old School night, which turned out to  be 80s pop rather than 80s Goth (where was my Joy Division? Where was my Cure? Okay, so there were two Siouxsie songs and one Depeche Mode, but really folks.)

But. I love my new stompy boots: I just danced hard for three hours and I feel like I was wearing sneakers. WIN! (They're six buckle docs: this was their first serious outing.)

And there was sufficient eye candy. So all is well, and all manner of things are well.


P.S. I am a sparklepire. I used silver hairspray, and it is shedding everywhere!
phil ochs troubador

gravedigger when you give my grave won't you make it shallow so that i can feel the rain?

(post title and current musical obsession totally batwrangler's fault)

For a long time, I thought I didn't like country music. It turns out that what I don't like is overprocessed Nashville country, but I could listen to Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, or Emmylou Harris all damned day.

Oh, Willie, you are the bittersweet chocolate frosting on my morning.

The stars are raindrops searching for a place to fall
And I never cared for you.

Oh that Spanish guitar.

Oh my scratchy underslept eye sockets.

And now it's back to the revision mines, where chapters 3 & 4 await my tender attentions.
  • Current Music
    Willie Nelson - Gravedigger
comic tick ninjas hedge

Cat Vs. Monkey: The Revision Mines of Kesseloria

Monkey: *types*
Complaint Department: Hey!
Monkey: *types*
Complaint Department: Hey!
Monkey: *types* *grumbles*
Complaint Department: Hey!
Monkey: What?
Complaint Department: Open the damned baby gate!
Monkey: The Dogge is in the living room, you know.
GRD: *slinks up to gate, looking predatory*
Monkey: See? I think teasing him is a bad idea.
Complaint Department: Do you want me to start rattling my cup on the bars?
Monkey: Okay, okay. I will put him in his crate and you can come out for a while. Dogge? Go in the box, please.
GRD: *wags tail*
GRD: *stalks cat*
Monkey: Box, please.
GRD: *sulks into box*
Monkey: *latches box and opens gate*
Complaint Department: Oh, thank goodness. What are you doing?
Monkey: *types*
Complaint Department: I said Monkey. What are you doing?
Monkey: Earning your bread and board, O Cat.
Complaint Department: Revising?
Monkey: *types*
Complaint Department: Revising what?
Monkey: *types*
Complaint Department: *climbs up on monkey and peers at laptop*
Monkey: *types*
Complaint Department: Chill? That old thing? Still??
Monkey: It's the revision mines of Kessel, what can I say?
Complaint Department: Time was, you would have made that run in 12 parsecs.
Monkey: I've gotten old. The dwarves awakened something that slept. It's taking a while to clean up.
Complaint Department: Different mines. Genre mixing is cheating. Nevermind how pained that metaphor is getting.
Monkey: They delved too deep. The mines connected. Which metaphor? The one in the book here?
Complaint Department: *peers* No, that one's fine.
GRD: (in durance vile) *pants*
Complaint Department: You know what your problem is?
Monkey: You and the dog are mooches?
Complaint Department: Cold.
Monkey: We're not rich?
Complaint Department: Warmer. But no.
Monkey: Right now, my problem is adding three pages of exposition to Chapter Three so Chapter Four makes sense to any readers who might not have read book one ever, or at least in the two years since it was published--
Complaint Department: Your problem is sprezzatura.
Monkey:  The art of appearing artless? Of concealing the complications beneath a glamorous mask? It is a problem, I agree. It allows Hollywood and politicians to glamourize violence and simplify complex issues into idiocy. Good versus evil. Heroes versus villains. Kevin Costner versus Alan Rickman, when in the real world it's always more complicated than that.
Complaint Department: That's not the problem. Your problem is that you haven't got any. And people like it.
Monkey: And that's why we're not rich?
Complaint Department: Now when are you getting rid of that evil dog and aiding the rightful and glorious empire of the Feline?
Monkey: ...it's not that simple, though. I mean, the dog has a lot of good qualities. If the dog is Alan Rickman, for one thing, I like him a heck of a lot more than I like Kevin Costner, because he's a better and more charismatic actor...
Complaint Department: And that's why we're not rich. I'm going upstairs to pee on your bedroom rug now. Close the baby gate before you let the dog out, please?
Monkey: ...I just got outgeeked by a cat. Hey! Wait a minute, what was that about the rug???
GRD: *wags tail and pants*