Log in

No account? Create an account
burning like matchsticks in the face of the darkness
[Most Recent Entries] [Calendar View] [Friends View]

Thursday, December 26th, 2002

Time Event
Don’t call me Grinch, Ms. Beast. ;)
Title: Familiar Smells
Synopsis: Tara has to get away, but she’s not sure where she wants to go. (post-“Tabula Rasa”) The end is rated R/NC-17.
Disclaimer: Joss and company own all the characters, i’m just playing with them, blah blah blah.
Read more...Collapse )
snow delay = time to work on your story. :)
Synopsis: Faith shows up in the middle of “Bring On The Night.” I can’t think of a title, yet.
Disclaimer: Joss and company own all the characters, i’m just playing with them, blah blah blah.
Read more...Collapse )
not much to write home, er, LJ-land about,
but i just wanted to say how happy i am that oatmilk and tranceballerina are so pleased with their stories. Renews my faith in my natural talent and all that. ;) Anyone else got any requests?

Current Mood: happy
a couple amusing stories
One of the things my mom got in her stocking was a vanilla whipped creme Santa covered with milk chocolate. Only on the packaging the word "Whipped" is much bigger than all the other writing, so you see it and your brain basically says "Whipped Santa," so my dad made a joke about it being an S&M Santa. My mom thinks we have an incredibly strange family, which we do, but i think that was a perfectly natural reaction.

This morning at work, when the stuff from the book drop (a large blue almost-dumpster in the parking lot) came in, one of the items from the book drop was an empty bottle of vodka. Michele suggested perhaps the person didn't want to litter. "Or perhaps he just thought it was a trashcan," Fran said; "After a whole bottle of vodka I would have thought it was a trashcan." Tee hee. Of course the first thing i said was "Is there any left?" though actually drinking any of would have been so shady. And Michele's right that we're damned lucky it didn't break in there. We have lovely patrons (and staff) who gift us with chocolates and cookies (Pepperidge Farm sampler from Beatrice Miller = oh so yummy; i had one of each) but the vodka's gotta be a first. :)
I hate the new anti-drug commercials.
(Though in the previous series, about how marijuana impairs your judgment, the one with the gun was quite moving and powerful. I don't know if the ads were accurate in their portrayals of how marijuana can affect some people, but if they are accurate, they definitely made me mroe wary of marijuana usaeg.)

I've been meaning to post this for a while, but i was reminded of it tonight when i saw a new one.

The first one aggravates me because of its senselessness. The gist:

Young guy: "Drug money funds terrorism? It's a ploy."
Older guy: "It's a fact."

They go back and forth, with the young guy saying it's a ploy and the older guy saying it's a fact. Yeah, who needs to cite anything even resembling government reports or anything? At least The Truth commercials offer actual facts.

Then in the one i saw tonight, the young guy says that "Drug money might fund terrorism. 'Might' is a moral loophole." The older guy says, "So the money you spend on drugs might..." and he lists off a litany of badness, drug cartels shooting children and terrorists doing things we can't even conceive, etc. So of course i had to play Devil's Advocate and point out that buying anything from any corporation supports slave labor or other sorts of badness. My mother countered that drug money spported worse things, which may be true, i really don't know much about this issue. (And might i add that if you missed the ad early in the campaign, one which i remember only fuzzily from a number of months ago, you would have no clue as to how drug money connects with terrorism.) I countered that if these illegal drugs were legalized, then they wouldn't be suppporting terrorism; they would just be part of the corporate system. "But they're not legal." And thus begins the cyclic argument, so we stopped.

<< Previous Day 2002/12/26
Next Day >>
Me and the Text   About LiveJournal.com