With all these things that I've done
When I loan books out, I worry vaguely because I can never remember if I underlined or marked certain bits that might provide shocking insights to my character or mindset. I'm afraid the loan-ee going to conclude I'm an utter pervert or something. They'd probably be right but it's the principle of the thing.
soranokumo has interesting information on her livejournal about Advent Children. Go see.
It rained nearly all day at the pool, and so we did the usual thing which was to drag the barbecue under the roof and grill dubiously-aged hotdogs while playing boardgames. Most of the lifeguards have a thing for Risk, which I've mentioned before.
I don't know what it is about that game, really. I don't like it and yet... whenever the board gets dragged out, I want to start planning, to start scheming, to read biographies of Napoleon and Alexander the Great, to wear a really big fucking hat and ponce around a bit whenever I manage to take over a country. I think up victory cries and obscene celebration dances. Often there are pelvic thrusts.
This was actually one of my better games, because we were playing mission style. I rather like mission style because it gets people so much more emotional, what with the deliberate wiping out of other army colors and so forth. People often do your work for you! And it won't even be their mission!
("Why did you wipe out Pedro?" I asked Joshua. "I know that's not your mission. I looked at your card while you were opening the Coke machine."
"Honestly? Out of spite," he said. "He assigned me the closing shift on Thursday.")
After getting completely kicked out of North America and Africa, both of which I had to take over to win the game, I decided to go for the half-assed-no-planning approach, which oddly enough seems to win me much better results. No logic at all. And isn't that the way it is in real life? Anyhow, I sashayed gloriously-- like a king-- right into Australia via Indonesia. Once I took over Australia though, I couldn't stop. It was like a sick addiction, and I found myself feverishly stockpiling cannons in countries that I couldn't even begin to pronounce. I regularly got involved in land-wars in Asia. Alliances were made and broken.
And then, the pool down the road called and said the inspector had just come to their place, so we scrambled madly to put everything away and look like we were actually doing something. Eventually, we ended up power-washing the deck, and aiming the gun-thing so we could write our names and make lewd pictures on the grimy concrete.
Last night was actually the staff dinner at the Japanese place again, and we were treated not only to the usual array of knife antics, but to our boss trying to make a speech after five beers.
"I hate to have to tell you all this, but Ronald Reagan is dead."
*blank silence from everyone*
"So, I'm the oldest person here."
*more silence, then drunken applause*
"Anyhow, even though people might tell you otherwise-- hell, I probably told you otherwise just a few hours ago-- you all are doing a good job. What you're doing is all the shit I don't want to or can't be bothered to do. And you're doing a good job.
"Anyway, no one get any tickets tonight or do anything stupid. Thanks for coming."
I've never felt more inspired in my workplace in my life.
I do a metric fuckton of fawning over Michael Phelps, but I can't help it. He's such a loveable dork. His diary while in China just makes me want to laugh and shake my head because it sounds exactly like his media image. It's not exactly Captain Obvious, but it's very much Captain PC, and you can practically hear his eyes getting bigger and his hands waving around.
Because, like. Dork! And also, nice flowers! And also, dig the clothing. Burgundy velvet blazer with three-quarter sleeves! Oh, boyo, get out of Ian Thorpe's wardrobe. And give Ian Crocker back his eyebrow.
But he still has a lovely smile, and that's always been a big thing with me. Smiles are key.
Incidentally-- At our hotel, I had a workout in their 40 meter pool, which is very nice. They have a picture of Thorpe in the brochure, so I think he’s swum here too. It calls for wank-fic in hotel rooms. And then I believe he's off to go see Amanda Beard and Grant Hackett for shooting a Speedo ad. Which actually reminds me of a point I've always wondered about. How many photoshoots are assembled and tweaked about to compile people together? Because I doubt highly that some of the shots I've seen had one or the other competitor flying halfway around the globe to shoot it.
Still it'd be fun to contemplate what goes on behind the scenes. I bet the Fastskin ads must've been interesting. I mean, you got to hang around wearing gills and body glitter. There should've been snark and heckling at the least.
Hey, I need advice. What should the music post theme for tomorrow be?
A) "Summertime and the Livin's Easy!" Music for swimming RPS, because it's one of the fandoms I haven't done and I need to embarrass myself some more.
B) "Hot Pope on Pope Action!" Misleading title, as it would just be music with religious themes or connotations.
C) "Da Da Da Dee Da Da-- What Do You Mean You Can't Tell It's The Ninth Symphony?" The instrumental music post. Possibly to include songs with lyrics given by soaring choirs.
D) "O Generica!" Music that works for several fandoms at once, also known as the Random Music Post. Probably for Revolutionary Girl Utena, FFVII, FFVIII, RPS, and Harry Potter. Or whatever turns up, I don't know.
E) Your music sucks. Stop posting it. Also get a real job, you damn hippie.
Votes to be tabulated, considered, and possibly utterly disregarded depending on present mood and the amount of work it would entail.
My pants status is unclear right now, but I do have a hat and that's the important thing when it all comes down to it. Also, this has been making the rounds lately, but it's still very funny and worth taking a look at.
soranokumo has interesting information on her livejournal about Advent Children. Go see.
It rained nearly all day at the pool, and so we did the usual thing which was to drag the barbecue under the roof and grill dubiously-aged hotdogs while playing boardgames. Most of the lifeguards have a thing for Risk, which I've mentioned before.
I don't know what it is about that game, really. I don't like it and yet... whenever the board gets dragged out, I want to start planning, to start scheming, to read biographies of Napoleon and Alexander the Great, to wear a really big fucking hat and ponce around a bit whenever I manage to take over a country. I think up victory cries and obscene celebration dances. Often there are pelvic thrusts.
This was actually one of my better games, because we were playing mission style. I rather like mission style because it gets people so much more emotional, what with the deliberate wiping out of other army colors and so forth. People often do your work for you! And it won't even be their mission!
("Why did you wipe out Pedro?" I asked Joshua. "I know that's not your mission. I looked at your card while you were opening the Coke machine."
"Honestly? Out of spite," he said. "He assigned me the closing shift on Thursday.")
After getting completely kicked out of North America and Africa, both of which I had to take over to win the game, I decided to go for the half-assed-no-planning approach, which oddly enough seems to win me much better results. No logic at all. And isn't that the way it is in real life? Anyhow, I sashayed gloriously-- like a king-- right into Australia via Indonesia. Once I took over Australia though, I couldn't stop. It was like a sick addiction, and I found myself feverishly stockpiling cannons in countries that I couldn't even begin to pronounce. I regularly got involved in land-wars in Asia. Alliances were made and broken.
And then, the pool down the road called and said the inspector had just come to their place, so we scrambled madly to put everything away and look like we were actually doing something. Eventually, we ended up power-washing the deck, and aiming the gun-thing so we could write our names and make lewd pictures on the grimy concrete.
Last night was actually the staff dinner at the Japanese place again, and we were treated not only to the usual array of knife antics, but to our boss trying to make a speech after five beers.
"I hate to have to tell you all this, but Ronald Reagan is dead."
*blank silence from everyone*
"So, I'm the oldest person here."
*more silence, then drunken applause*
"Anyhow, even though people might tell you otherwise-- hell, I probably told you otherwise just a few hours ago-- you all are doing a good job. What you're doing is all the shit I don't want to or can't be bothered to do. And you're doing a good job.
"Anyway, no one get any tickets tonight or do anything stupid. Thanks for coming."
I've never felt more inspired in my workplace in my life.
I do a metric fuckton of fawning over Michael Phelps, but I can't help it. He's such a loveable dork. His diary while in China just makes me want to laugh and shake my head because it sounds exactly like his media image. It's not exactly Captain Obvious, but it's very much Captain PC, and you can practically hear his eyes getting bigger and his hands waving around.
Because, like. Dork! And also, nice flowers! And also, dig the clothing. Burgundy velvet blazer with three-quarter sleeves! Oh, boyo, get out of Ian Thorpe's wardrobe. And give Ian Crocker back his eyebrow.
But he still has a lovely smile, and that's always been a big thing with me. Smiles are key.
Incidentally-- At our hotel, I had a workout in their 40 meter pool, which is very nice. They have a picture of Thorpe in the brochure, so I think he’s swum here too. It calls for wank-fic in hotel rooms. And then I believe he's off to go see Amanda Beard and Grant Hackett for shooting a Speedo ad. Which actually reminds me of a point I've always wondered about. How many photoshoots are assembled and tweaked about to compile people together? Because I doubt highly that some of the shots I've seen had one or the other competitor flying halfway around the globe to shoot it.
Still it'd be fun to contemplate what goes on behind the scenes. I bet the Fastskin ads must've been interesting. I mean, you got to hang around wearing gills and body glitter. There should've been snark and heckling at the least.
Hey, I need advice. What should the music post theme for tomorrow be?
A) "Summertime and the Livin's Easy!" Music for swimming RPS, because it's one of the fandoms I haven't done and I need to embarrass myself some more.
B) "Hot Pope on Pope Action!" Misleading title, as it would just be music with religious themes or connotations.
C) "Da Da Da Dee Da Da-- What Do You Mean You Can't Tell It's The Ninth Symphony?" The instrumental music post. Possibly to include songs with lyrics given by soaring choirs.
D) "O Generica!" Music that works for several fandoms at once, also known as the Random Music Post. Probably for Revolutionary Girl Utena, FFVII, FFVIII, RPS, and Harry Potter. Or whatever turns up, I don't know.
E) Your music sucks. Stop posting it. Also get a real job, you damn hippie.
Votes to be tabulated, considered, and possibly utterly disregarded depending on present mood and the amount of work it would entail.
My pants status is unclear right now, but I do have a hat and that's the important thing when it all comes down to it. Also, this has been making the rounds lately, but it's still very funny and worth taking a look at.