Seven Questions
So this is from missingkeys:
This seems to be a meme where people give you seven topics and you ramble about them. Sounds fab! Comment and I too can give you seven prompts to ramble about.
1. Where you want to be in ten years.
Good lord. I have no idea. Not selling porn for a living, that much is for sure. I want to be writing more, that much is certain. It's sort of tricked off to a total stop in the last few years and that pains me greatly.
2. Goths.
We're a funny bunch. Pretentious as hell, cliquey to a fault but I've never been in a group of people that have made me feel safer. Safer to be weird, kinky and smart, and all the other little oddities that the mainstream tends to dismiss. A little drama, a little of the morbid, an absence of spray tans and nose jobs.
3. Religion.
If it harms none, do as thou wilt. That's about it.
I do think pretty much all world religions have something good to give - Asatru from to Zoroastrianism. I'd also argue that any religion can be bent to serve local cultural mores. Look to the differences between North African Islam and Indonesian Islam, or between French Catholicism and the Hatian forms. Sometimes it lends itself to good things, other times to bad.
4. 2002.
I do not even what. What was I doing? I was twenty, I was drunk a lot, I was at uni on the north coast and trying to maintain a social life that did not revolve around surfing. I spent an awful lot of time on the train. It was the last year I lived in res on campus too, and they were interesting days. We had a standard open door policy on our unit and had all manner of people pass through out doors. I introduced some friends to V:tM, may I be forgiven for it. I also ran a couple of home-brew systems.
5. Cat macros.
They were better before the cute infected them. Bring back in your THING doing your THING level drama, kthbai.
6. Queensland sun.
It will give you cancer. Seriously. I kind of hate it a lot right now, because I have the flu and have been running fevers and chills for a few days and the last thing I need is sun. I use this awesome Banana Boat Black Label Ultra Gothomatic sun-creen that preserves my toadbelly complexion without making my skin fall off. Once upon a time it came in an orange bottle, but they spotted their target market and ran with it, I think. Orange is for their sports cream now.
7. A funny work anecdote.
There's funny ha-ha and there's funny sad. The trio of twenty somethings who were convinced that anything going into the vagina would be forever lost, and who had never heard of cervices, or the very flaming young chap who bought himself a stack of top shelf manlove movies but popped a bargain bin het flick on the very top, a tactic that would have been splendid if we sold movies by weight.
Hmm, my favorite though is a local dealer in "cottage industry pharmaceuticals", a Yorkshireman fondly referred to as "Pinky" for his distinctive wardrobe. Five foot five and pink pinstripe trousers, pink polo, natty pink fedora, like Mattel trying to do a Gangster Barbie. Who announces his presence in the store with a cheery "'Allo love." and then beelining to the anal toys for the biggest things he can find. He's a treasure, actually, and one of my favourite regulars. Two Pinky stories:
1)From time to time stupid suppliers send us stock via surface mail, and it then sits on our doorstep till we open, except we don't have a doorstep and our entry is in the carpark and cars drive past all the time. Anyhoo Pinky is passing by when he spots a group of teenage boys from the local boys school debating whether or not they should nick it and lo! Pinky's off after them and tackles the lads, rescuing our package. Since we aren't open for a bit he chucks it in the back of his car and makes a note to drop by later with it.
Unfortunately, being a short man in a pink suit with a car covered in anarchist collective, legalise marijuana and gay man love stickers will get you pulled over by the cops, and as a chap with a known record for dealing it's awkward to explain that the three dozen boxes of male enhancement pills in your back seat are just herbal supplements, not secretly eccys or anything officer. THERE'S NOT MINE, REALLY, THEY'RE FOR A FRIEND.
2) Rather a bit later he came in for a visit with an extinguished spliff on his lip. Cool as you please. He ambled up to the counter and delicately rested it on the edge while having a slow, spaced chat with me about his weekend and how he's off to see the Surrealist Exhibition with a mate. He left his change and the spliff behind.
"Hey, Pinky, you're going to need that if you're off to see the Surrealists."
"Oh, ta love. They're a bit crap anyway."
He's a favourite.
This seems to be a meme where people give you seven topics and you ramble about them. Sounds fab! Comment and I too can give you seven prompts to ramble about.
1. Where you want to be in ten years.
Good lord. I have no idea. Not selling porn for a living, that much is for sure. I want to be writing more, that much is certain. It's sort of tricked off to a total stop in the last few years and that pains me greatly.
2. Goths.
We're a funny bunch. Pretentious as hell, cliquey to a fault but I've never been in a group of people that have made me feel safer. Safer to be weird, kinky and smart, and all the other little oddities that the mainstream tends to dismiss. A little drama, a little of the morbid, an absence of spray tans and nose jobs.
3. Religion.
If it harms none, do as thou wilt. That's about it.
I do think pretty much all world religions have something good to give - Asatru from to Zoroastrianism. I'd also argue that any religion can be bent to serve local cultural mores. Look to the differences between North African Islam and Indonesian Islam, or between French Catholicism and the Hatian forms. Sometimes it lends itself to good things, other times to bad.
4. 2002.
I do not even what. What was I doing? I was twenty, I was drunk a lot, I was at uni on the north coast and trying to maintain a social life that did not revolve around surfing. I spent an awful lot of time on the train. It was the last year I lived in res on campus too, and they were interesting days. We had a standard open door policy on our unit and had all manner of people pass through out doors. I introduced some friends to V:tM, may I be forgiven for it. I also ran a couple of home-brew systems.
5. Cat macros.
They were better before the cute infected them. Bring back in your THING doing your THING level drama, kthbai.
6. Queensland sun.
It will give you cancer. Seriously. I kind of hate it a lot right now, because I have the flu and have been running fevers and chills for a few days and the last thing I need is sun. I use this awesome Banana Boat Black Label Ultra Gothomatic sun-creen that preserves my toadbelly complexion without making my skin fall off. Once upon a time it came in an orange bottle, but they spotted their target market and ran with it, I think. Orange is for their sports cream now.
7. A funny work anecdote.
There's funny ha-ha and there's funny sad. The trio of twenty somethings who were convinced that anything going into the vagina would be forever lost, and who had never heard of cervices, or the very flaming young chap who bought himself a stack of top shelf manlove movies but popped a bargain bin het flick on the very top, a tactic that would have been splendid if we sold movies by weight.
Hmm, my favorite though is a local dealer in "cottage industry pharmaceuticals", a Yorkshireman fondly referred to as "Pinky" for his distinctive wardrobe. Five foot five and pink pinstripe trousers, pink polo, natty pink fedora, like Mattel trying to do a Gangster Barbie. Who announces his presence in the store with a cheery "'Allo love." and then beelining to the anal toys for the biggest things he can find. He's a treasure, actually, and one of my favourite regulars. Two Pinky stories:
1)From time to time stupid suppliers send us stock via surface mail, and it then sits on our doorstep till we open, except we don't have a doorstep and our entry is in the carpark and cars drive past all the time. Anyhoo Pinky is passing by when he spots a group of teenage boys from the local boys school debating whether or not they should nick it and lo! Pinky's off after them and tackles the lads, rescuing our package. Since we aren't open for a bit he chucks it in the back of his car and makes a note to drop by later with it.
Unfortunately, being a short man in a pink suit with a car covered in anarchist collective, legalise marijuana and gay man love stickers will get you pulled over by the cops, and as a chap with a known record for dealing it's awkward to explain that the three dozen boxes of male enhancement pills in your back seat are just herbal supplements, not secretly eccys or anything officer. THERE'S NOT MINE, REALLY, THEY'RE FOR A FRIEND.
2) Rather a bit later he came in for a visit with an extinguished spliff on his lip. Cool as you please. He ambled up to the counter and delicately rested it on the edge while having a slow, spaced chat with me about his weekend and how he's off to see the Surrealist Exhibition with a mate. He left his change and the spliff behind.
"Hey, Pinky, you're going to need that if you're off to see the Surrealists."
"Oh, ta love. They're a bit crap anyway."
He's a favourite.