Slashy Nominations 45: They Win That Laugh

[thefourthvine]

I've been wallowing in pathos recently as the result of an ill-advised attempt to watch certain classic movies. Do not trust film classics, people: they will betray you and leave you in dire need of SSRIs. And chocolate.

Fortunately, FF can be trusted. Well, some of it, anyway. The funny stuff, basically. And now I'm passing the humor on to

Comments

[thefourthvine]

I'm entertaining a scary theory here, MMWD. That theory is: we are actually the same person.

No, stay with me here.

I'm also in the scary PMS stage where my breasts hurt when I walk and I'm insanely emotional.

I also desperately needed this recs set.

And I also firmly, emphatically believe that wombats make everything better, to the extent that I can produce sworn testimony from my Best Beloved that I've been lobbying desperately for a pet wombat (to no avail, of course; even in Australia, you can only have them if they're rescues and you're planning to return them to the wild, and we aren't in Australia) for years.

Do you also like red pandas? Because if you do, I think we should conduct some searching interviews with our parents.

[thefourthvine]

So maybe we're sisters. 'Cause:

PMS on 5/23/2004 causing general weeping, soreness, and sharpness of tooth: yes

Fondness for:
Platypuses: yes, a thousand times yes
Tortoises: yes
Monkeys: no. Spawn of the damned. Evil. Eeeeeevil.
Sharks: yes

Likely to vote for anyone promising a wombat on every roof: yes

Read The Illiad: yes
Have not seen Troy: yes
Because are afraid of Troy: yes. In fact, it's to the point where Best Beloved and I almost saw it on Friday, because I really felt like I should, given my whole FF thing, but chickened out just before buying the tickets because we overheard three Orlando fangirls walking into the theater.
(Fangirl A: I heard he dies.
Fangirl B: I don't care! I just want to look at him!
Fangirl C: Ohmigod I love Orlando!
[all three squeal in unison]
Fangirl B: Ohmigod, me too, but I wish he wasn't wearing a dress.
[all three sigh in unison]
Fangirl A: Maybe he'll live! Then there can be a sequel!
Best Beloved: We could just go home.
Me: Yes. God, yes[We flee the movieplex

[thefourthvine]

My hatred for monkeys (and all primates, and do not tell me I am one; I absolutely refuse to admit any relationship to primates, or in fact most human beings, and in fact I'm fairly sure I'm operated by a ferret collective from the planet Ul) is based on one horrible, horrible class I took in college. (Evolution of homo sapiens, basically.) At one point, it had gotten so bad that I had an honest-to-god allergic reaction - urticaria - every time someone mentioned a primate. And this persisted for years after the class had broken me emotionally and physically and sent me weeping into therapy.

(Why was the class so bad? Here's one tiny extract that sticks in my mind, for obvious reasons.
Professor: Some people claim that humans evolved from insectivores.
[Long pause as professor contacts brain, which is located on a distant planet.]
Professor: But we know this could not be true

[thefourthvine]

Those fangirls are no kin of mine.

No, you're right, fandom is terrifying from time to time. Or, actually, it's terrifying that I'm a part of the same entity those girls are. Although I am fairly pleased that I save my really insane squeeing for obscure poets and books.

You've got the perfect slogan for our kind of fannishness, though, really: More brains. Less squee. (And, let me add, hot gay sex.)