schmevil

"...it's not a real fandom until there's a bakery/coffee shop AU," I consider punching myself in the face, in hopes of turning back the tsunami of annoyance that instantly washes over me.

So this is a Things That Annoy Me Irrationally post.

- While I've been banging the "JUST READ BETTER COMICS" drum for ages, I still hate that guy. I hate the drum circles of smug indie comics readers, and angry ex-Big Two comics readers, and their "Stop complaining. Start doing. All you have to do is not give Marvel and DC your money," simplicity so much. Fuck off with your kumbaya-easy solutions to a complex problem that you don't understand.

- "Get a job, you hippies." I become a veritable inferno of rage, but am also overtaken by helpless lulz. It's complicated, and strangely physically draining. HIPPIES ARE OVER. OVER, YOU IGNORANT SON OF A NEWT. GET SOME NEW LINES. READ A BOOK. EAT SOME QUINOA. FUCK OFF.

- Slow walkers who are walking slowly solely because they're distracted by their smartphones. Pffftwitch.

Is unicorn blood too morbid to serve as an angel intoxicant?

If Castiel, Uriel and Balthazar are going to be drinking buddies, well, they'll need something to drink.

Any other suggestions? Fermented scarab beetle... ? The stranger the better.

... in which Castiel gives up heaven to travel the world as a folk singer.

I'm not even kidding. Serious faces.

Godga's Telephone, reinterpreted by US soldiers stationed in Afghanistan. You know the phrase 'what is this I don't even'? That phrase was made for this.

WHAT IS THIS I DON'T EVEN

MTV bans 'Telephone'. Few people notice. But serious faces now people, let's do a poll (yes, another one). Why did MTV (bother to) ban the video (considering it doesn't actually air videos)?



The ~shocking video can be found under the cut, for all two of you who haven't seen it yet. ( Read more... )

GUYS! I HAVE FOUND THE DUMBEST ARTICLE IN THE HISTORY OF EVER!

HOLY SHIT I CAN'T STOP YELLING!

IT REALLY IS THAT BAD!

The National Post Editorial Board:

The radical feminism behind these courses has done untold damage to families, our court systems, labour laws, constitutional freedoms and even the ordinary relations between men and women.

Women's Studies courses have taught that all women--or nearlyall-- are victims and nearly all men are victimizers. Their professors have argued, with some success, that rights should be granted not to individuals alone, but to whole classes of people, too. This has led to employment equity -- hiring quotas based on one's gender or race rather than on an objective assessment of individual talents.

Executives, judges and university students must now sit through mandatory diversity training. Divorcing men find they lose their homes and access to their children, and must pay much of their income to their former spouses (then pay tax on the income they no longer have) largely because Women's Studies activists convinced politicians that family law was too forgiving of men. So now a man entering court against a woman finds the deck stacked against him, thanks mostly to the radical feminist jurisprudence that found it roots and nurture in Women's Studies.

Read more: http://www.nationalpost.com/story.html?id=2484139

So what do we think of this?

Stonehenge Apocalypse

When a group of archaeologists dig up a human skeleton near the historical monument of STONEHENGE, an ancient piece of machinery hidden beneath the bedrock is discovered. Not knowing what it could be the workers accidentally trigger the mechanism and start a chain of events that may very well end the world as we know it.

Collins plays 'Jacob', the lead. Wingfield plays 'Dr. John Trousdale'.


This sounds HOOOOOORIBLE. :D

If you're out shopping today, don't buy salad spinners or waffle irons. Trust me, you won't use them. Also stay away from: juicers, rowing machines, and foot massagers.

If you're home chillin like a villain, good show. I tip my glass of alcoholic something or other, to you. Why yes, I am aware that it's only one o clock. We started yesterday off with champagne and orange juice, so today is comparatively tee total-y.

Now, I'd like to express my sincere thanks to those generous souls who took time away from their families to troll me on the holidays. It's people like you who remind me of how blessed I am. I have so many great people in my life, both offline and online. I'm so sorry the same isn't true for you.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS NEWAYZ BB. DRINK SOME NOG N MAKE AS MERRY AS U CAN. XO XO

I'm not actually sick, but apparently work prefers that I stay home, rather than spread my hypothetical germs. I have no problem with this, because I've been catching up on some much needed sleep. Well, maybe I'm a little sick, because sleeping all night and half the day, every day for a week? Is obviously not of the normal. Anyway. Home tired, if you will.

Which has given me some time to fiddle, and wonder, and plan. One of my primary mental defaults, when I'm home sick/tired/whatever, is fic.

So SPN people, weigh in, should I write the story of college-age Sam Winchester taking a series of part time jobs? It would go like this:

One day, in all his Winchesterian wisdom, Sam decided to get a part time job. Maybe it was a way to feel normal, after an adolescence spent hustling pool and cards. Maybe it was a way to ensure a constant source of beer money. Maybe he did it because all the (not so) cool kids (of which he was one) were doing it. Sam no longer remembered.

Instead, after six months of toiling in retail, food service and shady bars, all he could hold on to was the vague inkling that somewhere, there was light at the end of this tunnel; that someday, he would be free from uniforms, the smell of old grease, and midnight shifts. That in some other life, he hadn't been contractually obliged to accept the abusive whims of customers, clients, and jerks of all shapes and sizes.

He held onto that inkling like it was his very life blood; through being drenched in soda; through being called a 'maniacal yeti $*&%'; through being kicked in the shins by uncountable children; through being pawed by drunk soccer moms; and even through being pawed by drunk soccer dads, too many of whom looked like his actual father figures (namely his dad, and Bobby).

He held onto that inkling so that one day, he could stoke its tiny spark into a blaze of righteous fury; so he could stand up and declare, "I quit! I *$&@ing quit!"

Unfortunately for Robin Brady, today was that day.

they have this to say about Star Trek: First Contack:

Jean-Luc Picard, known mostly for enjoying hot cups of tea, Brahms concertos, and avoiding fights by talking things over sensibly, turns into Bruce Willis in First Contact. He sprays Borg drones with hot lead from a tommy gun, courts death by calling Worf a coward and delivers a mouth-foaming monologue about killing every Borg he can lay his hands on that culminates in an awesome rockstar tantrum where he trashes his ready room. Later, he snaps the Borg Queen' spine like a breadstick. Apparently, there are any number of things you can do to Picard without making him lose his cool. But turn him an albino cyborg and he will fuck your shit up.

I can't disagree with a list that puts Khan at the top and Final Frontier at the bottom. I actively avoid* that wretched excuse for a Trek film, and frankly, I have horrible taste in movies. I own Bubba Ho-Tep ffs.

Oh Jean-Luc. You will forever be my captain.

*Much as I do Nemesis and Insurrection. I will, if need be, cross provincial lines in order to avoid watching them straight through, and sober. I will however, happily subject them to an epic MSTing, should a motherfucking GALLON of Romulan ale be at hand.