Archive for September, 2011

The Good Ship … AHHHHHH!!!

I’ve been interested in Fanfiction for a while – I’m one of those people who want to know what happened after the “… and they lived happily ever after.” My involvement with the Library of the Damned – where my friends and I riff on the worse fics we can find, (and I happen to have a post up today) has only strengthened one of my core beliefs;

People are fucking crazy.

Let me introduce you to the wonderful world of the Shipper.

Shipper comes from ship, an abbreviation of worship, and is used to describe someone with an unnatural and unwholesome attachment to a particular fictional character or character pairing. This obsession is always sexual in nature and is really, really creepy.

There are many things I consider myself a fan of, and there are even somethings that I could be considered a rabid fan of, but I have never been so intensely interested in a fictional character that I plotted out every moment of their intimate lives.

Graphically plotted out. In disturbing detail that makes me want to dig a bunker under my house. And it’s always subjects that you would never think would lend itself to that sort of fiction. SpongeBob and the various My Little Ponies feature in a number of works that would land their authors in a psych ward in a heartbeat.

I am refusing to link any examples that would prove my point, because I don’t think anyone should be subjected to them. I’ve read a couple and I really wish I hadn’t.

If you are interested in reading a poorly-worded description of two of your beloved childhood icons engaging in the sort of behavior you normally need a credit card to see online, head on over to It’s packed with the stuff.

If fantasizing about cartoon characters is what does it for you, fine. Dress up like Wonder Woman and have your wife tie you up with your magic lasso – so long as you are consenting adults there is really no harm in that sort of thing.

When you vomit your personal fantasies onto the Internet and start crafting entire fictional worlds that revolve around your characters fucking each other, that’s when you need to step back and take a look at your life.


That’s Just Wrong

I’d like to share something that happened at work on Wednesday.

I was, as usual, working the phones and it was about forty-five minutes before we were closing. I answered the phone with my usual spiel and a woman spoke.

“This is Helga, the hospice nurse who stays with [coirker’s name] mother. Could you tell her that her mother has passed away?”

I was stunned – she didn’t ask to speak to my coirker, she just wanted to leave a message.

That’s just … wrong.


I enjoy writing.

For the past few years I have done the NaNoWriMo – the National Novel Writing Month – in November, where writers from around the world try to write a fifty-thousand word novel in thirty days.

Just typing that number makes my hands hurt.

I’ve managed to “win” so far every year, but I have developed a little cheat that I use.

There are times when I’m chugging along, really pounding away, when a roadblock gets thrown up. Some little niggling detail I didn’t think of when I did my outline pops up and it breaks my train of thought. It’s frustrating and pulls me out of my groove. Until I came up with a solution to my problem – the Snoopy.

Most of what I write for pleasure can be considered fantasy – very rarely do I write things in a modern setting. I decided that I needed a word that would be easy for me to remember but wouldn’t pop up on a regular basis as I wrote – so I picked Snoopy. If I come to a scene that I haven’t fully plotted out, or that I think should be improved upon by adding foreshadowing for an event that I haven’t written yet, I’ll type Snoopy and continue on. When I reach the scene I want to reference in the earlier scene and figure out what details I want to add, I’ll do a word search for my Snoopys, find the one I need, and rewrite the scene.

This came about from my chronic inability to think of good names.

I used to use simple boring names – I have one story where all the good guys are Bobs (Bob1, Bob2, Bob3, etc…) and the bad guys are Garys. When I finally picked a good name, I could do a search-and-replace to remove the boring name and put in the new one. It was easy for me to keep track of, but kind of dull. So I started using comic book characters.

And then things got weird when a minor female character, Batman3, had an affair with one of the evil henchmen, Dr. Doom8. I didn’t plot it that way, it was just something that developed from the characters’ interaction.It’s hard to explain.

Some of the scenes read a lot like a slashfic if you don’t take into account that the names would be changed later.

His fingertip brushed against her skin, fainter than a moth’s heartbeat, tracing the lines inked into her pores that marked Batman3 as one of The Chosen. Dr.Doom8 knew that she had only to give the alarm and his death would be slow and bloody. At that moment, such things were inconsequential; his world had narrowed to a patch of skin no bigger than a promise.

Yeah, I’m not proud of that.

Homebrew Update!

Today we have yet another homebrew update. I managed to rack both the plum wine and the Joe’s Ancient Orange Mead, both had developed quite a bit of sediment and I was worried they might develop a bad taste. Both had also almost completely stopped fermenting, there were almost no bubbles in the airlock.

Before racking. This is an old picture, there was actually a lot of sediment in both and they were much clearer.

From the first racking, several weeks ago.

I racked the plum first, there was over an inch of sludge on the bottom.

After racking but before topping off with water. Most of the sediment is gone.

And of course I wanted to taste it.

There are a few floaties, but they should settle in time.

It’s drinkable if you’re an alcoholic – it has a very “hot” taste, like it’s all alcohol. I can taste a little bit of the preserves I started with, after aging a bit the flavor should improve. I tasted it before adding water, that one little shot glass knocked me on my ass – it has a kick like a mule. Hopefully that will smooth out as well.

Next up was the mead.

After racking but before adding water. It's pretty clear, I wasn't able to remove all the sediment so when I added water it clouded up again.

After topping off, with a taster on the side.

I tasted the mead as well, and it was GOOD, sweet with a pleasant orange taste and a very strong orange smell. It smells a bit like fresh orange juice. It doesn’t have the kick or the raw alcohol taste the plum does, so it will finish off quicker. I will definitely be making more of this.

The next day, with a flashlight behind them to show their color.

Fairy Baby

Once again I had a long day of doing boring swap-stuff so I didn’t really have time to write a post. Instead of a picture of one of the cats, here’s a photo of Thing 2 from about three years ago.

The wings makes the outfit.


The black and yellow splotch to the right is Thing 1, dressed like a bee. Before you ask, it wasn’t Halloween. This is a standard Saturday.

Well, There’s Your Problem …

I’ve had a busy Saturday doing doing swap-related stuff and watching Batman:TAS  instead of writing a post for today, so here’s a photo of Fearless in the sink instead.

If you need to wash your hands, I can skooch over a bit.

– squish! –

On Thursday  I arrived at work as usual, put my lunch bag in the fridge, topped my coffee off with ice, and headed to the bathroom.

The bathrooms at work are in a little separate alcove – you open a door to a short hallway containing the doors for each restroom and there is an electrical/mechanical utility room at the very end. The cleaning crew usually turns the lights off in this tiny hallway, so if you’re the first one there (like I was) it’s very dark. I open the door and hear an odd noise, like water running. I flip on the light and see that part of the carpet is dark.

Oh, shit.

The men’s room is directly in front of the door you come in through, but the carpet was still dry there, so I headed down to where the women’s  and utility rooms were.  My first thought was a toilet was overflowing, but when I got closer I could hear the rushing of water coming from behind the utility room door – the locked utility room door. I get my key out and get the door open, there’s about an inch of water on the floor around my feet and I decide to leave the light off so I don’t acidentially fry myself. From the light in the hall I can see water gushing from a pipe against the far wall. At this point one of my coirkers comes in to the hall and things got busy.

We managed to get it shut off and a plumber to come out – it was the pipe feeding our irrigation system so they didn’t have to turn off all the water, which was a good thing. The hallway where the bathrooms are located and the two offices that share a wall with it were flooded, as was the utility room and part of the women’s room. We got a cleaning crew to come out and do what they could, they ended up hauling away most of what was stored in the utility room because the water ruined it. The carpets are partially ruined in the hall and two offices – the good news is that we have the kind of carpet that comes in big squares so it’s easy to replace only the damaged portions, but the bad news is … Well, guess where the spare carpet squares were being stored?

After all that I had to work for the rest of the day in damp shoes.

Overall, a “fun” day at work.

Yarn Blossom

(Be sure to catch the last four chapters  of ITS MY LIFE, posting today over at The Library of the Damned)

I’ve been going through some stuff recently and when I start getting overly anxious, I like to have something to do with my hands. That’s why I’ve been signing up for so many swaps – it gives me something else to occupy my thoughts than what I have been focusing on.

I wasn’t feeling well on Wednesday so I stayed home. I finished up on what I had the supplies to do and found myself at odds. I felt too bad to actually do anything active, but not so bad that I wanted to go to bed.

To the Internet!

I had some bright orange yarn that I was using to make small pumpkin cat toys for a swap partner, so I decided to look for a new flower pattern. Several random clicks later I found The Crafty Tipster’s free pattern for a spider mum. It looked easy, so I started it.

And, after what felt like ten thousand skinny petals, I finished it!

It's either a spider mum or a tribble with dreadlocks.

Now I have to figure out what to do with it. From petal tip to petal tip, it’s about seven inches wide, the circular base the petals attach to is only about 2.75 inches across. So far all I have the following;

  • Use it as a pot scrubber (tawashi) – it’s a rough acrylic yarn so it would work well
  • Make another one, stitch the two together, fill the middle with catnip and turn it into a cat toy.
  • Add googly eyes and turn it into my new blog mascot,  Miss Twinklelocks.
  • I don’t know, some sort of hat? Is there going to be another royal wedding soon?

I’m leaning towards cat toy, but that’s mainly because I’ve got a drawerful of tawashi that I rarely use.

(Tawashi is the Japanese word for a sponge or scrubbie – it has come to mean any crocheted or knitted scrubbie. They are usually cute and/or colorful, in different shapes like fish, fruit, or animals.)

The pattern works up pretty fast and it’s really easy – the only stitches used are a single crochet, a slip stitch, and a magic ring in the center. Repetitive, but easy.

I’m thinking if I make one in a smaller scale, maybe using sock yarn, I’ll have something that’s more useful. I might have to scare up some of my 100% wool and see how the pattern looks after it’s been felted.



I went out to dinner with several members of my family after a family function, and ended up sitting between Thing 1 and Thing 2 (mostly because I’m the best aunt ever.)

Thing 2, being a typical little sister, wants whatever her big sister has and this extends to food. If Thing one was eating cottage cheese and grapes, Thing 2 wanted cottage cheese and grapes. If Thing 1 had tomatoes and french fries, Thing 2 wanted tomatoes and french fries. And so on.

(I did at one point try to get Thing 2 to try my baked sweet potato by telling her it tasted like chocolate, but she just gave me The Look.)

We were nearly done eating when Thing 1, exasperated, told Thing 2 that if she didn’t stop copying what she was eating, that Thing 1 would copy her.

“But if you copy her and she’s copying you, wouldn’t you be copying yourself?” I asked Thing 1.

The increasingly puzzled look on her face as she tried to figure that out was priceless. I think I broke her brain.


I have finally finished my critique of ITS MY LIFE for The Library of The Damned and I cannot tell you how relieved I am. I will never do a fic that long by myself ever again – I didn’t like how angry it made me. Every time I worked on it I could feel myself getting angrier and angrier, until I just wanted to choke someone – preferably the author.

I’m like GhostDad in that respect – we both tend to hold onto our anger, letting it build until the pressure valve breaks and there’s a rupture. It takes a sustained effort to piss me off, but once the fuse is lit there is no stopping it.

Mother Dearest (and to a lesser extent GhostSister) is the exact opposite – she gets mad, expresses her emotions – in MotherDearest’s case that usually involves cussing and throwing things – and then the anger is all used up.

She doesn’t stew over her thoughts and emotions, examining them like a miser counting his pennies. I wish I could be like that.

I have a few days before I have to submit another fic, but I have a few in my Possibles pile that I’m mulling over. None are very long, I’ve learned my lesson.