Various things
-Finished reading Mirages and I'm SPIRITUALLY EMPTY. The next edition of Anaïs's unexpurgated diaries can't come too soon. I was so glad she finally found Rupert Pole at the end because she always becomes so miserable whenever she has some stupid shrink undermining her self-esteem (as in making her doubt and analyse fucking EVERYTHING to the point where she's harshing even the perfectly cool parts of herself, like dismissing her own dreams and I just want to *strangle* those shrinks), and especially when she doesn't get laid. When she's allowed to dream and fly and soar with beauty and imagination and gets an adequate amount of hot dickings to recharge her batteries, she's the Anaïs I know and love. I can so identify with her feeling spiritually dead when she isn't sexually active. (The worst times of my life have been whenever I've been through some gynaecological surgery and haven't been able to wank--I would die without the happiness hormones brought on by deep vaginal orgasms.) She's even had the same fucking nightmares I have had about being cockblocked and even had the same problem of fancying (and being chased by!) femme guys who were too gay to do her and oh, FFS. It's just so relatable, although I have no idea HOW she managed to pull nearly every guy she ever met. It's like every time she meets a new guy and writes about him in her diary I'm like "Ah, yes. I wonder how many entries it'll take until you fuck." But it really does revitalise her to the point where it's never pathetic, I don't think--she needs to love as much as she needs to breathe, and that's also a refreshing contrast to this stupid concept of a woman who sleeps around having a shitty self esteem or whatever. She just had a high sex drive (which she'd inherited from her dad, who could come five times a night even in his fifties) and was hugely poetic and the whole woman was just made for love, basically. I love her so.
-Torsten and Laura decided to throw me a completely fucking unplanned event that'll take up the most of a chapter. What the fuck. As if I didn't have trouble cramming in all the sex scenes anyway. I mean, ok, it'll help them forwards with the plot as they'll meet people who will help them accomplish what they set out to do, but still. It just HAD to involve a sexy costume party and more fetishes. Three words: Fox tail buttplug. The furries are going to be in tears of joy. Oh dear.
-Thanks to everyone who's been offering to make English subs for Connie films. Again, I really don't blame you if you are burned out by the timing process, but do let me know if that happens so I won't wait up.
-I had prepared to just be bleh and not want to see Crimson Peak. I am probably going to be so pissed off at Crimson Peak. It has some of the shittiest, most poorly fitting excuses for period costumes I've seen in a long while and they look utterly AWFUL on the actors, particularly Hiddles. And when it's a tall, lean, smoothly moving sexy dude of that level, it's a fucking CRIME to hide a body like that. We don't see those often enough. But apparently that costume comes off and there's hot fucking, so I might just swallow my dignity and suffer through it in the theatre? I am just not so sure if I can deal with the whole period fail thing, though. Can someone make me an edit with just the smut? Because dear GOD, I NEED MORE OF THIS TYPE OF THING IN MY LIFE. LOOK AT HIM. HOW DARE YOU PANDER TO MY SEXUALITY LIKE THAT?!?
-The funniest thing about the cat's dementia is that it's not just her randomly crying and being WAAAAH at things. It's that she also does the opposite. She can become SO FUCKING HAPPY about something (like being given a bit of grilled chicken) that she'll just curl up at the foot of my bed and purr for over an *hour* without a break, and it's ridiculous. She's very rarely had such long purr sessions before, but now getting chicken or getting pettinz from Dad can easily make them happen. I'm glad it's not all misery for her, then, and that she's superhappy sometimes at least.
-The folks are in Italy for a week and I have trouble going to the shops on my own. And while there is now a service where you can order a supermarket to bring fudz to your door, that costs like 10 e and you have to schedule a specific time, and 10 e is a lot of money for me and my body laughs in the face of schedules. Bugger. Maybe I'll just struggle on and do a bit more fasting; I mean, that might even make me lose a bit of weight...
-Many thanks to ataslightangle for providing English subs for Rasputin and putting up with my poking of them last night for five and a half hours. That was a huge piece of work and I'll have to buy you about five pints if we ever meet. But it's a significant cultural event in that now far more people have a chance to enjoy Die Veidt as Russia's greatest love machine. Both the film and the subs can be found here, as usual. I still kind of feel it's more of a docudrama than an exciting drama or whatever, but it's realistic at least and probably the most human version of Rasputin I've seen, without that crazy mad monk/power-mad manipulator stuff he was later caricatured into (the script had input from some guy who had actually known him, apparently). So it's basically just all sex and vodka and Jesus and I *still* wonder how in the hell they could make a thin, catlike dude appear a lumbering bear and how Connie even managed to come across as butch and heterosexual for a bit, so that's something. As usual, a Connie movie is worth watching for his performance alone. The whole assassination sequence when he's being slowly poisoned and just loses himself in music is just sublime. Sex panther Connies and spiritual Connies are the best Connies, so it's great whenever the two are combined.
-What else? IDK. Restless and groggy. Not sure if I'll get any writing done and I'm starting to get sick of this grogginess. But that's nothing new, is it?
-Torsten and Laura decided to throw me a completely fucking unplanned event that'll take up the most of a chapter. What the fuck. As if I didn't have trouble cramming in all the sex scenes anyway. I mean, ok, it'll help them forwards with the plot as they'll meet people who will help them accomplish what they set out to do, but still. It just HAD to involve a sexy costume party and more fetishes. Three words: Fox tail buttplug. The furries are going to be in tears of joy. Oh dear.
-Thanks to everyone who's been offering to make English subs for Connie films. Again, I really don't blame you if you are burned out by the timing process, but do let me know if that happens so I won't wait up.
-I had prepared to just be bleh and not want to see Crimson Peak. I am probably going to be so pissed off at Crimson Peak. It has some of the shittiest, most poorly fitting excuses for period costumes I've seen in a long while and they look utterly AWFUL on the actors, particularly Hiddles. And when it's a tall, lean, smoothly moving sexy dude of that level, it's a fucking CRIME to hide a body like that. We don't see those often enough. But apparently that costume comes off and there's hot fucking, so I might just swallow my dignity and suffer through it in the theatre? I am just not so sure if I can deal with the whole period fail thing, though. Can someone make me an edit with just the smut? Because dear GOD, I NEED MORE OF THIS TYPE OF THING IN MY LIFE. LOOK AT HIM. HOW DARE YOU PANDER TO MY SEXUALITY LIKE THAT?!?
-The funniest thing about the cat's dementia is that it's not just her randomly crying and being WAAAAH at things. It's that she also does the opposite. She can become SO FUCKING HAPPY about something (like being given a bit of grilled chicken) that she'll just curl up at the foot of my bed and purr for over an *hour* without a break, and it's ridiculous. She's very rarely had such long purr sessions before, but now getting chicken or getting pettinz from Dad can easily make them happen. I'm glad it's not all misery for her, then, and that she's superhappy sometimes at least.
-The folks are in Italy for a week and I have trouble going to the shops on my own. And while there is now a service where you can order a supermarket to bring fudz to your door, that costs like 10 e and you have to schedule a specific time, and 10 e is a lot of money for me and my body laughs in the face of schedules. Bugger. Maybe I'll just struggle on and do a bit more fasting; I mean, that might even make me lose a bit of weight...
-Many thanks to ataslightangle for providing English subs for Rasputin and putting up with my poking of them last night for five and a half hours. That was a huge piece of work and I'll have to buy you about five pints if we ever meet. But it's a significant cultural event in that now far more people have a chance to enjoy Die Veidt as Russia's greatest love machine. Both the film and the subs can be found here, as usual. I still kind of feel it's more of a docudrama than an exciting drama or whatever, but it's realistic at least and probably the most human version of Rasputin I've seen, without that crazy mad monk/power-mad manipulator stuff he was later caricatured into (the script had input from some guy who had actually known him, apparently). So it's basically just all sex and vodka and Jesus and I *still* wonder how in the hell they could make a thin, catlike dude appear a lumbering bear and how Connie even managed to come across as butch and heterosexual for a bit, so that's something. As usual, a Connie movie is worth watching for his performance alone. The whole assassination sequence when he's being slowly poisoned and just loses himself in music is just sublime. Sex panther Connies and spiritual Connies are the best Connies, so it's great whenever the two are combined.
-What else? IDK. Restless and groggy. Not sure if I'll get any writing done and I'm starting to get sick of this grogginess. But that's nothing new, is it?