And I was born on the shores of the Chesapeake Bay, Maryland and Virginia have faded away
Hey, the sun. I haven’t seen that in a while. Also, let us all raise a glass to mewschangeling, for it was her birthday yesterday!
Ancient mythology records tell us that mewschangeling is part of a triumvirate of beguiling otherworldly creatures. She sits with her two companions on a fashionable sofa (they used to sit on a rock, but that wasn’t very comfortable) and lures sailors, delivery boys, and many other folk into her lair by sweetly chanting bardic tales that share a striking similarity to fantasy videogames and novels about dragons. If she is feeling particularly saucy, she revs up her sewing machine, produces an Asiatic costume of gorgeous hue and cut, dons it, and strikes a pose that would bring even the most dedicated ninja to his knees.
What is done with these victims has never been ascertained, but breathy cries from within the lair lead us to believe that they are put to work in an online RPG. There really isn’t a way to resist their beckoning call, so advice generally runs along the lines of “Just go with it and enjoy yourself, even if you wake up pantsless.”
Changeling, you are sweet and intelligent and extremely talented in many respects-- I honestly feel it should not be legal for some people to be simultaneously good at art and writing-and I wish you a glorious birthday. I tremble at the thought of what you and soranokumo will get up to while in the same house.
I think the constant rain is doing something to my head because my dreams have been ten kinds of batshit of late. I had the oddest dream a few nights ago, that Oscar Wilde had a livejournal and was a BNF in the Harry Potter fandom. This probably says something unflattering about my brain’s willingness to exert itself. Yes, brain, Harry Potter is British. So is Oscar Wilde. Still, you couldn’t think of any other fandom for him to be in? Dr. Who, perhaps? Wodehouse? You could have gone with the UK version of Queer as Folk. Hell, you could have tried for historical RPF. You could have delved into the dark corner where the war poets are, even. I can wait all day for an answer, brain.
Brain sez: …Bagels.
What? Focus!
Brain sez: …mmm, cheese bagels.
Goddamn one-track brain.
Anyway, yeah, Oscar Wilde, BNF, Harry Potter. He had a big following and everything. I think what mainly struck me at the time was that I was reading through his livejournal and being vaguely disturbed by the prominent portrait of himself that he was using as his image background. He might have been a BNF, but he did have some shite html going on there. I woke up right when he was in the middle of a flamewar between Harry/Draco and Harry/Ginny shippers, and was immediately disappointed that I wasn’t going to get to read the rest of his stinging and witty retorts on fandom_wank. I’m nearly certain I can blame flidgetjerome for this dream, somehow.
On Saturday, I somehow found myself in another strange internet-meets-dreamworld scenario where I dreamed I was observing the events inside the Toni Morrison novel “Sula”. (It was actually much less weird than I thought it would be, given Morrison’s plots.) However, the first thing I thought upon waking up was not something high-class and literary, but rather something muzzy along the lines of “Hey, does livejournal have an equivalent of ‘Suicide Day’ where everyone prances about, defriends without guilt, and celebrates the fact?” And then, “Oh God, why did I even bother going to college if this is all my brain can do with the education my professors tried to give me?” And then, “Mmm, bagels.”
And just last night I dreamed that I was back in college and living with our housemates from junior year again. These are the folks, as you might recall, that Louise and I did not get along with so well by the end of the year. I recall being so irritated by them in the dream that I had to go out grocery shopping with my brother to calm myself down. At the grocery store, I couldn’t find the butter and I kept looking through cartons of eggs, trying to find a carton where none of the eggs were cracked. But it didn’t work; all of them were damaged (or blue, for some reason. But not even dream-me is stupid enough to eat strange blue eggs), and I finally left the grocery store in a rage.
The dream did one of those odd shift things where you’re suddenly at another place, and I came home to realize that one of the dream-housemates had set all my drink coasters on fire. That had it, and I woke myself up. This has been the first time in a while that I’ve annoyed myself right out of a dream, but probably not the last.
This was around the time a few years ago when all the cicadas were coming out of their seventeen year cycle, and you couldn’t walk outside without watching where you stepped. And the sound of them, my God. It was this deafening wall of noise that you eventually you just got used to-you had to, or you’d have a psychotic episode. I love the sound of cicadas, although they usually don’t get going here until later in July and August. But this was something else entirely, this sound. It was like a physical thing, something tangible that you could practically touch and swat at.
As lifeguards, we had to come extra early each morning to actually sieve through the pool to get out all the cicadas that had fallen in and drowned. There are these filter baskets located in intervals around the pool’s edge, and what you had to do was pry the cap off the filter hole, pull the basket loose, and dump whatever was in it into a big plastic bucket that you carried around the pool. Whatever’s in the pool will eventually end up in the filtration system, so besides cicadas there would be leaves, band-aids, small toys, goggles, katydids, beetles, moths, ants, crickets, frogs, the occasional rodent, sticks, pebbles, hair clots, duck feathers, hair scrunchies, daddy long-legs, occasional condoms, lightning bugs, and God knows what else. And because not all the baskets fit right, the gunk they were supposed to trap would slip down to the bottom of the filter well. You would have to lie down on the concrete already getting hot from the morning sun, reach an arm down, and scoop up whatever was down there with your bare hands before plopping it into the bucket.
That is one of my more vivid sensory memories: lying on the ground and dredging up these handfuls of dead cicadas, plump pale little bodies like drowning victims, all falling apart. Occasionally you’d find one that had managed to stay alive by scrambling on top of his buddies, and they’d dig their clawed little legs into your skin weakly and try to take off with their water-logged wings. You could still feel their claws on the skin of your hands and arm even after you shook them off, all creepy-crawly. We’d leave them on the concrete so that they could dry off in the sun (or, if you were feeling particularly malicious, you could leave them on the seat of the lifeguarding chair for the next unsuspecting guard to sit down upon) but the stupid little bastards always fell right back into the water again. I’d sit in the chair and watch them struggle in the water, wondering if they’d be dead by the time my shift was over and blowing the whistle at the children who flung them at each other for fun.
I resented the cicadas a bit at the time, because I didn’t like having to deal with the goosh-factor and smell, but mostly I liked them. I felt sorry for the ones I couldn’t save, even though there were thousands that did survive. It just seemed like the ones in the pool were getting ripped off by nature. Here they’ve slept seventeen years in the ground, waiting for the day they’d laboriously crawl forth, split their skins, spread their wings and fly into the air-and what happens but they end up in the water, an element they had no idea of what to do with. You wonder if they were terribly confused by it all.
It’s all very sad in a way. The best laid plans of lifeguards and cicadas gang aft agley.
Sometimes, someone gives you links that are so good or so horrible that you have to share them with everyone you’re IMing with at the same time. It’s like watching multiple simultaneous trainwrecks, but what I mostly like about it is that it’s totally like a psychology experiment, and not like those ones I had to participate in during freshman year. You get to chart peoples’ reactions to the same wonderful/horrible thing, and predict what they’ll say, find the common factors. Presumably after that you apply that knowledge for some-I don’t know, higher purpose, but I’m in it solely for the reactions.
All links should be considered not safe for work. And Kadrin’s reactions are located further down his conversation.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: Oh, that reminds me. I was looking at vintage pr0n today.
ThorneScratch: Oh? Tell me more!
FlidgetJeromeEsq: It's more a show than a tell, so I have to worry about your mother coming by.
ThorneScratch: I am totally alone, and also pantsless.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: Um, awesome! This is all Victorian het porn, which I love for being so terribly decorous.
ThorneScratch: Is there bodice busting?
FlidgetJeromeEsq: http://vintagelovelies.com/cabinet/vintageporn/pic/vintageporn_11_02
FlidgetJeromeEsq: Not quite, you know. I've seen, like, two girls in bodices but there wasn't much busting involved
ThorneScratch: AUGH BEARD.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: Honestly, that first one, it's all about the beard.
ThorneScratch: ...Dude, where is his wang? Is he just, you know, just humping between her thighs? Not certain of where to put it?
FlidgetJeromeEsq: http://vintagelovelies.com/cabinet/vintageporn/pic/vintageporn_13_04
FlidgetJeromeEsq: Then, some very lady-like bondage.
ThorneScratch: You know, that looks like a scene from a girl's boarding school disciplinary mistress.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: And finally the most polite titty-fucking ever.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: http://vintagelovelies.com/cabinet/vintageporn/pic/vintageporn_03_14
ThorneScratch: Wow. I like how he still has his tie on, all neatly tied and proper. That’s just. Yeah.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: I know. It’s ever so well mannered. My other big find of the day was a gallery of vintage 1970s gay porn.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: http://www.groovyguys.com/008mag/008mag011.jpg
ThorneScratch: Oh God.
ThorneScratch: ....well, actually, that wasn't as bad as I expected. I expected 70's style bush. Like crawling through Vietnam, or something.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: That's actually as bad as it gets. Nah, for some reason all the vintage gay porn sites seem to prefer twinks.
ThorneScratch: Man. I like how in that pic you totally don't notice the penis. Your eye is immediately drawn to the shirt and stays there.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: You really don't, do you? It never gets as bad as that in the rest.
ThorneScratch: And his matching hat.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: And of course if you can tear your eyes away from the h-- yes. Exactly.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: http://www.groovyguys.com/008mag/008mag002.jpg
FlidgetJeromeEsq: It's all from the very straightforward “diary of a young man coming out”. Which doesn't really involve much coming out at all, but it does involve quite a lot of men trying to eat other men's trousers.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: http://www.groovyguys.com/stills07.html
FlidgetJeromeEsq: http://www.groovyguys.com/008mag/008mag030.jpg
ThorneScratch: Those must be some tasty pants. Damn. Lookit him go.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: I have to say I was having trouble following who was the hero. It's a fabulous haircut but it lends the proceedings a decidedly twincesty air.
ThorneScratch: It certainly does.
***
ThorneScratch: Flidget is showing me Victorian porn.
twigcollins: You know, no matter what people are doing, when they do it in those clothes it looks so bloody serious and dignified.
ThorneScratch: You know, she totally said the exact same thing!
twigcollins: "What is it Lieutenant Sebastian?"
ThorneScratch: http://vintagelovelies.com/cabinet/vintageporn/pic/vintageporn_03_14
ThorneScratch: That was my favorite of the Victorian ones. Flidget described that as "the most polite titty-fucking ever".
twigcollins: It is. Jesus.
twigcollins: "So, lovely day."
twigcollins: "Quite."
ThorneScratch: "Beg your pardon, I'm about to jizz on your face."
ThorneScratch: "Oh, that's quite all right."
ThorneScratch: Oh God, you gotta see this one. She’s moved on to bad 70’s porn.
ThorneScratch: http://www.groovyguys.com/008mag/008mag011.jpg
ThorneScratch: Look at that shirt. And his jauntily matching hat.
twigcollins: Okay, on that first one? Why is his shirt still buttoned IF HE’S NOT WEARING PANTS?
ThorneScratch: http://www.groovyguys.com/008mag/008mag002.jpg
ThorneScratch: And those pants would make you sterile.
twigcollins: Those pants give off radiation. Those pants are the anti-horny. EXCUSE ME SIR. PLEASE TO BE TURNING DOWN THE VOLUME ON YOUR PANTS BEFORE BJ'S. MUCH OBLIGED.
ThorneScratch: Zack owns those pants.
twigcollins: Of course he does. Cloud probably screamed the first time he saw them.
ThorneScratch: Like a frightened virgin.
twigcollins: Zack: What is it? What's wrong?
twigcollins: Cloud: Bad. Bad bad bad.
ThorneScratch: Zack: I'll wear the bottoms and you wear the top!
twigcollins: Sephiroth: What in the hell is going on in-- oh God I'm blind. *making stabby motions with the masamune* Zack, get it over here so I can end the nightmare.
twigcollins: Cloud: It burns! It burns!
twigcollins: Zack: It'll be back in fashion, you watch!
ThorneScratch: Zack refuses to give up his bellbottoms. Ever.
***
ThorneScratch: Uh, Catt said to ask you about Ultimecia and Anima? Also, your baby sister pronouncing the name of the destroyer of worlds is so cute.
KadrinHeroSchool: Ah, yes! Give me a moment.
ThorneScratch: Take two, they're cheap today.
KadrinHeroSchool: Right. Ultimecia's final form.
http://www.warmech.net/ff8/bosses/ultimecia-3-1.jpg
A toy of Anima.
http://www.jlcideas.com/Image/ffx-monster-Anima.jpg
Note that they both have a similar overall shape, and a bit at the bottom. Note the bit at the bottom close up for Ulti, here...
http://www.warmech.net/ff8/bosses/ultimecia-3-2.jpg
Note, also, its similar stance with Anima's bit at the bottom.
ThorneScratch: ....You know, what mainly jumps out at me is how much of a hard-on Square has for blue nipples. But yes, I see the similarities!
KadrinHeroSchool: Only on evil monsters. Tifa never had blue nipples.
ThorneScratch: This is like that Mr. Fantastic's groin thing, though-- did we ever canonically see Tifa's nipples?
...does that mean Seifer had blue nipples? God, what a thought.
KadrinHeroSchool: Oh, sure, there was that ten minute "naked dancing" sequence. All kinds of boy fanficcers assure me it was in there.
(Well, Seifer's not a monster, and never has a final form. Still, though, does Kuja have blue nipples? Strong possibility!)
ThorneScratch: I always heard it as the "naked jumprope" sequence. Huh. Perhaps we had different games.
(Don't forget Seymour! Man, I feel like there should be a support group for this. You'd have all the different Shivas sitting around and eyeing each other suspiciously.)
KadrinHeroSchool: SHIVA: Hello, my name is Shiva, and I... I have...
KUJA: I know it's to show an acceptance of the problem and a desire to change, but we can see.
ThorneScratch: ....And then Akio wanders in, vaguely confused about where to find the support group for Indian-Appearance-Bastardized Villains, and ends up getting slapped by half of the support group and shagging the other half in a janitorial closet.
KadrinHeroSchool: Akio typically shags support groups. It's what he does; he goes around, shagging entire support groups.
The Sex Addiction support group now has a specially reinforced blast door just to keep Akio out.
ThorneScratch: Akio is one of those people who considers support groups a prime dating scene. Friday nights? He's at the YMCA, getting serious amounts of depressed/psychotic/addicted/blue-nippled tail.
I see it like the gate in King Kong-- this massive thing that they set a struggling sacrifice before once a year, in advent of his approach.
KadrinHeroSchool: The support group for People Who Are Afraid Of Sex And Don't Like To Be Touched love him; he's an instant cure for an entire meeting at once. Akio considers everything a prime dating scene, though. Churches. Anti-Sex Leagues. Retirement homes.
The sex-addiction support group draws lots to decide who's being staked outside. The person who gets picked is always intellectually horrified, but emotionally kinda pleased.
ThorneScratch: "A dose of Akio will clear that right up!"
"Wait, I thought I needed something to cure me from what he gave me last time..."
And I assume it depends on whether you're being sacrificed to movie Akio or series Akio.
KadrinHeroSchool: You use Akio to cure fear of being touched, and then some serious penicillin regimes to cure Akio. It's a complicated process. Being sacrificed to movie Akio would, indeed, be a fate worse than death. He's just not what he could be.
ThorneScratch: Hot Akio injection. God. God. I get the impression that movie Akio tries very hard but just isn't very good at it, at all. At the climax, he winds up falling off the wall or something. But first he stabs you with a painting tool.
KadrinHeroSchool: ...I have gotten behind on my talking, and I apologise. I meant to say something about being stabbed with painting tools, but I think I'm out of the game. "Yep," I would say, "that sure is a painting tool stabbing." Akio should really get a specific knife for that kind of thing. Then he wouldn't need to get blood on his palette knife.
ThorneScratch: Oh, it's okay, I'm looking at Victorian porn. And bad 70's porn. It's almost but not quite as mesmerizing as the Ocelot gif. Mostly it's great for the very ugly clothes they are wearing. To tie it back to the conversation, we should make Akio wear these clothes in punishment. I would link you, but they are NSFW.
KadrinHeroSchool: We should combine the two. Bustles, penny-farthing bicycles, handlebar-moustaches and beehive hairdos... "My word, my good pimp, it would appear that I do not have enough of the green to purchase this pizza I have requested! Would you accept gettin' it on freaky disco style in payment?"
ThorneScratch: ...Yes.
Except it might possibly cause the universe to collapse. No one wants that. In the 70's pictures, they all seem to be trying to eat each other's clothing, though, and that might be difficult when it comes to the bodices and corsets. So much boning, you see.
KadrinHeroSchool: ...Just not sexy. "If you're hungry, there's a pizza right over there, okay? It's the one we're having sex for. Try to focus."
ThorneScratch: Only in a Victorian speech pattern! It would be the most polite, yet most hallucinogenic sex crossover ever.
KadrinHeroSchool: In the background, "Land of Hope and Glory" performed by that band that did "Incense and Peppermints".
ThorneScratch: There's probably opium involved, somewhere. Oh my God, this is the least.... wow. I just. Wow. I didn't even notice the sexual hijinks in this picture, just the horrible shirt. I need to show you this.
KadrinHeroSchool: If a shirt is horrible enough to deflect hijinks... man, that must be a horrible shirt.
ThorneScratch: ...Click if you dare. And if no one's around.
KadrinHeroSchool: ...At least the hat matches.
...my god, that's the world's worst shirt.
And it doesn't even fit him.
ThorneScratch: I know. I mean, the matching hat is just icing. And it only gets worse. There are tight plaid pants.
KadrinHeroSchool: I mean, I have no issue with the safe for work nature, it's the safe for sanity. That is bad, bad fashion.
ThorneScratch: Which is why it would be perfect to punish Akio with, you see! Agree/Disagree?
KadrinHeroSchool: Agreed! Oh, man, utterly agreed. Akio with that shirt would be... oh, it'd be horribly wonderful.
ThorneScratch: For real. Shit, dude, that's far worse than being continuously stabbed by the Million Swords of Humanity's Hatred.
KadrinHeroSchool: "Million Swords... horrible shirt... Million Swords... horrible - I'll take the Million Swords."
ThorneScratch: Akio is just such a pansy, really.
***
And we’re not even getting into the various reactions everyone had when the link to “pregnant Cloud getting kidnapped by ninjas” was circulating. God. God.
***
ThorneScratch: Hey. Dude. Did you read the thing about Uwe Boll?
twigcollins: The lawsuit?
ThorneScratch: No.
twigcollins: Is he dead? Dying?
ThorneScratch: No and no, sadly. It's the thing about him offering to fight other film directors in a boxing ring.
twigcollins: O.O
ThorneScratch: I know. Hang on, let me find it for you.
twigcollins: God, I would love to see him go after Tarantino. Tarantino is a mean fucker. Little squirrely guy like that? Oh, it is on, bitches.
ThorneScratch: Here. Oh, totally. And I bet Boll is a hair-puller. I'd love to see him get slapped around, and I am so in favor of him and Tarantino going at it because I wouldn't mind seeing Tarantino take a few to the face too. I only hope the whole thing wouldn't end in sweet lovemaking. Awesome article, huh?
twigcollins: Yeah, just let me stop dry heaving from the thought of Tarantino having sex. God, he'd look like a guinea pig.
twigcollins: "Many journalists make value judgments on my films on the opinions of one or two thousand Internet voices," Boll said.
twigcollins: You know, that's what the emperor said about the Death Star.
ThorneScratch: "I find your lack of faith disturbing."
ThorneScratch: But Boll isn't even important enough to be an emperor. He's like.... a Moff. A junior Moff. Moff in training. Hell, this man is a stormtrooper, if anything.
twigcollins: "Many councilmen make value judgments on my decisions based on the opinions of one or two whole planets crying out in pain."
twigcollins: "On the message boards, you have, like, tons of people, they want to punish me, kill me, grill me, shoot me, everything. The Internet threats are so full of hate in a lot of times that I think it goes way over the top of normal reviews and normal talk about a director."
twigcollins: Yes, Mr. Boll, because we've never hated anyone quite as much as you before. It's a surprise to us too.
ThorneScratch: What a strange, bitchy little man.
twigcollins: Super-horror. Super horror? What the hell is super horror? Do they kill you, reanimate you, and kill you again?
ThorneScratch: I think it's horror kicked up a notch. Bam!
twigcollins: Oh my God, I didn't even know he mentioned Tarantino until the bottom of this interview.
ThorneScratch: I know. Seriously, I want to seem them in the ring together.
twigcollins: "This is more a gag," he said. "I'm not counting on Quentin Tarantino coming up to Vancouver."
twigcollins: Yeah, watch him back off.
ThorneScratch: Can't you see them screaming at each other?
twigcollins: Shit, I wouldn't fight Tarantino. He's like the fucking Tasmanian devil. You'd come out missing fingers and hair and eyes and shit.
twigcollins: Oh please. Please, Quentin. Do it for the children.
ThorneScratch: You need someone else to tag team him. Like, you kneel down and then your friend hits him with a folding chair.
twigcollins: Yes. God. Okay, Boll and Schumacher. Versus. Um. Tarantino and...
ThorneScratch: Russell Crowe?
twigcollins: Nah, it's gotta be another director. Spike Lee? He seems pissed off all the time.
ThorneScratch: George Lucas?
twigcollins: Wait, Lucas should be on Boll's side. Forget Schumacher, he still sucks but not in the same over the top, vainglorious way.
ThorneScratch: Aww. I like Lucas. I mean, he's a bit of a dingus but I still like him. He's part of my childhood.
twigcollins: Yeah, but Lucas is pretty much...
twigcollins: Lucas <------------------------------------->reality
ThorneScratch: Lucas can be the crazy dude who dings the bell to start the match.
twigcollins: Who does the ring card thing?
ThorneScratch: Yeah. He hands out water bottles and orange slices at the break. Oh, oh. Cronenberg. Let Cronenberg fight alongside Tarantino.
twigcollins: Yes. Okay, here's the most important question: who films the fight?
ThorneScratch: ...Oliver Stone?
twigcollins: HA.
ThorneScratch: David Fincher? He did Fight Club, he has experience.
twigcollins: True.
ThorneScratch: Francis Coppola? Hmm. You know, if he weren't dead, I'd say Stanley Kubrick.
twigcollins: Kubrick could do it anyway. I think dead, he'd have just about the same intelligence as Boll.
ThorneScratch: So, the reanimated corpse of Kubrick?
twigcollins: Yeah. Or his jar of ashes.
ThorneScratch: Spot-on! Who is doing the soundtrack for the fight?
twigcollins: I think John Williams. He can put in some tie-fighter sounding crap. Is that Williams? I like some of his stuff, I honestly do. Some of the Star Wars themes are just great. But God is he heavy-handed. We could go minimalist Phillip Glass otherwise
ThorneScratch: John Williams would be perfect for this. He does great over-the-top DOOM music.
twigcollins: Steel cage match?
ThorneScratch: I think they should use those gladiator battle staff things. No helmets.
twigcollins: Two men enter, one man leaves.
***
ThorneScratch: Did you see that article about the Queen’s guards?
twigcollins: Kickassssssss.
ThorneScratch: “Flapping manhoods.”
ThorneScratch: Zack: Now that's what I'm talking about.
ThorneScratch: Sephiroth: >.<
twigcollins: Zack: It only hurts when you're sober.
twigcollins: Reno: What the hell is this sober everyone keeps talking about?
ThorneScratch: Unexpected wang. It is something you just have to put up with around Zack.
twigcollins: Cloud says eventually you don't really notice it unless he does something really obvious. Which is worse because then he gets creative. You know, Zack's belt looks an awful lot like one of those WWF wrestling belts
ThorneScratch: You know, it rather does.
twigcollins: He'd get Cloud around corners. "ARMBAR!" *grab*
twigcollins: He's like Hobbes from Calvin and Hobbes
ThorneScratch: Oh man, yes. High velocity pouncing
ThorneScratch: Cloud: Ohno.
ThorneScratch: *GLOMPWHAMRUMBLE*
ThorneScratch: Cloud: ...ouch.
twigcollins: Shoes and socks flying.
twigcollins: Zack: Hey, look, we made the whole hallway. I started bending at the knees. I think that amps up the distance.
ThorneScratch: Zack also goes all boneless if you scritch him behind the ears.
twigcollins: And you can rub his tummy. Zack goo. On crap mornings, he oozes out of bed.
ThorneScratch: That, or just refuses to get up at all. He clamps onto Cloud so Cloud can't get up either.
twigcollins: Yes. "There’re two of us. We have a majority."
twigcollins: Sephiroth: *considers ice materia*
twigcollins: Zack: You wouldn't dare.
ThorneScratch: Zack: You'd hit Cloud!
twigcollins: Zack knows how good his aim is, though. He has to keep a movable Cloud shield.
ThorneScratch: Cloud is squirmy and doesn't cover too much area. He has to keep him over the most important bits.
twigcollins: Bob and weave. Strategic Cloud implementation. There’s a whole strategy; he wrote it on a beer napkin once.
ThorneScratch: Then, Reno ate the napkin.
twigcollins: To be fair, they were out of pretzels.
twigcollins: Reno: I don't hate anyone.
twigcollins: Zack: What about that guy you threw through the wall?
twigcollins: Reno: He was in my way.
ThorneScratch: He got between Reno and the keg. That’s like walking between a mother bear and her cub.
twigcollins: Once Reno is out of visual range of the keg, he gets nervous and confused. It’s like his GPS system.
ThorneScratch: He has a biochemical need to be inhaling at least 12% fumes.
twigcollins: At this point, to sober him up would most likely kill him.
ThorneScratch: Like those fish that live deep within the ocean, get used to the water pressure, and then explode if they come to the surface.
twigcollins: He has alcohol sense... like sonar, with bats. He can ping it. He got a false positive on the jar of Jenova juice. "Maybe if we mix it with some rum."
ThorneScratch: Little Jenova cocktails with the tiny festive umbrellas. Add some maraschino cherries, fix that right up.
twigcollins: The poor clones. I can hear them meeping.
ThorneScratch: “Stop drinking Mom!”
***
twigcollins: "No, Zack, I don't believe you and the cat traded bodies. Yes, I know it happened in that movie."
ThorneScratch: Zack and Sephiroth switching bodies for a day. Cloud and Zack switching bodies for a day
twigcollins: God.
ThorneScratch: I don't know which is worse. Of course, there would be no real difference if Zack and Reno switched for a day.
twigcollins: "I have WHAT level clearance!?"
twigcollins: Sephiroth: NO.
twigcollins: Dude, if Zack and Cloud switched, Zack would just jerk off all day long.
twigcollins: Cloud: I feel used.
twigcollins: Zack: Easiest molesterin' I ever did
ThorneScratch: Cloud would keep bumping into things because he wouldn’t be used to the center of gravity. He’d forget to duck when going under low archways and whack himself.
twigcollins: Go to pick up the sword, forget he could actually pick it up. And then, bury it in the wall.
twigcollins: Zack: Good show.
twigcollins: Cloud: If you break my body before I get back into it, I will hurt you.
twigcollins: Zack: Where's the clutch?
twigcollins: Cloud: It's a body, dumbass, it doesn't have the clutch!
twigcollins: Zack: Wonder what I pulled, then.
ThorneScratch: Zack: You know what this thing needs to feel homey? A tattoo.
twigcollins: Give it that 'lived in' feel.
***
twigcollins: You can buy a $7 Twinkie in New York, or so I am told.
ThorneScratch: You totally can. And you can eat it on the subway. Such freedom!
twigcollins: Only in America. And several other countries. Wait. Do Twinkies export? Does anyone else even want them?
ThorneScratch: Maybe to build walls out of them. You can't destroy a Twinkie.
twigcollins: I'd give them to aliens. "Check this shit out."
ThorneScratch: The Dutch would buy them. Make dikes out of them, you know?
twigcollins: Seriously, watertight. You could make a submarine out of Twinkies. The crew would never sleep. Too much sugar.
ThorneScratch: Zack and Reno already think it is the best idea ever. Sephiroth has already taken Cloud away.
ThorneScratch: "You don't deserve it."
twigcollins: His alarm went off.
ThorneScratch: "You can have it back when you’re less stupid."
twigcollins: He can hear when Cloud's heartbeat goes over 300. Which is usually the time they're deciding which end to stick Cloud in. Headfirst? Feetfirst?
I don’t want to work. I want to sit in this tremulous and miraculous sunshine, and listen to the Counting Crows. I actually wish I was back at St. Mary’s, because this would be a perfect day to sit on the Point and stare out at the river. Except the Point is probably underwater right now from the flooding, so. Right. Work it is.
Ancient mythology records tell us that mewschangeling is part of a triumvirate of beguiling otherworldly creatures. She sits with her two companions on a fashionable sofa (they used to sit on a rock, but that wasn’t very comfortable) and lures sailors, delivery boys, and many other folk into her lair by sweetly chanting bardic tales that share a striking similarity to fantasy videogames and novels about dragons. If she is feeling particularly saucy, she revs up her sewing machine, produces an Asiatic costume of gorgeous hue and cut, dons it, and strikes a pose that would bring even the most dedicated ninja to his knees.
What is done with these victims has never been ascertained, but breathy cries from within the lair lead us to believe that they are put to work in an online RPG. There really isn’t a way to resist their beckoning call, so advice generally runs along the lines of “Just go with it and enjoy yourself, even if you wake up pantsless.”
Changeling, you are sweet and intelligent and extremely talented in many respects-- I honestly feel it should not be legal for some people to be simultaneously good at art and writing-and I wish you a glorious birthday. I tremble at the thought of what you and soranokumo will get up to while in the same house.
I think the constant rain is doing something to my head because my dreams have been ten kinds of batshit of late. I had the oddest dream a few nights ago, that Oscar Wilde had a livejournal and was a BNF in the Harry Potter fandom. This probably says something unflattering about my brain’s willingness to exert itself. Yes, brain, Harry Potter is British. So is Oscar Wilde. Still, you couldn’t think of any other fandom for him to be in? Dr. Who, perhaps? Wodehouse? You could have gone with the UK version of Queer as Folk. Hell, you could have tried for historical RPF. You could have delved into the dark corner where the war poets are, even. I can wait all day for an answer, brain.
Brain sez: …Bagels.
What? Focus!
Brain sez: …mmm, cheese bagels.
Goddamn one-track brain.
Anyway, yeah, Oscar Wilde, BNF, Harry Potter. He had a big following and everything. I think what mainly struck me at the time was that I was reading through his livejournal and being vaguely disturbed by the prominent portrait of himself that he was using as his image background. He might have been a BNF, but he did have some shite html going on there. I woke up right when he was in the middle of a flamewar between Harry/Draco and Harry/Ginny shippers, and was immediately disappointed that I wasn’t going to get to read the rest of his stinging and witty retorts on fandom_wank. I’m nearly certain I can blame flidgetjerome for this dream, somehow.
On Saturday, I somehow found myself in another strange internet-meets-dreamworld scenario where I dreamed I was observing the events inside the Toni Morrison novel “Sula”. (It was actually much less weird than I thought it would be, given Morrison’s plots.) However, the first thing I thought upon waking up was not something high-class and literary, but rather something muzzy along the lines of “Hey, does livejournal have an equivalent of ‘Suicide Day’ where everyone prances about, defriends without guilt, and celebrates the fact?” And then, “Oh God, why did I even bother going to college if this is all my brain can do with the education my professors tried to give me?” And then, “Mmm, bagels.”
And just last night I dreamed that I was back in college and living with our housemates from junior year again. These are the folks, as you might recall, that Louise and I did not get along with so well by the end of the year. I recall being so irritated by them in the dream that I had to go out grocery shopping with my brother to calm myself down. At the grocery store, I couldn’t find the butter and I kept looking through cartons of eggs, trying to find a carton where none of the eggs were cracked. But it didn’t work; all of them were damaged (or blue, for some reason. But not even dream-me is stupid enough to eat strange blue eggs), and I finally left the grocery store in a rage.
The dream did one of those odd shift things where you’re suddenly at another place, and I came home to realize that one of the dream-housemates had set all my drink coasters on fire. That had it, and I woke myself up. This has been the first time in a while that I’ve annoyed myself right out of a dream, but probably not the last.
This was around the time a few years ago when all the cicadas were coming out of their seventeen year cycle, and you couldn’t walk outside without watching where you stepped. And the sound of them, my God. It was this deafening wall of noise that you eventually you just got used to-you had to, or you’d have a psychotic episode. I love the sound of cicadas, although they usually don’t get going here until later in July and August. But this was something else entirely, this sound. It was like a physical thing, something tangible that you could practically touch and swat at.
As lifeguards, we had to come extra early each morning to actually sieve through the pool to get out all the cicadas that had fallen in and drowned. There are these filter baskets located in intervals around the pool’s edge, and what you had to do was pry the cap off the filter hole, pull the basket loose, and dump whatever was in it into a big plastic bucket that you carried around the pool. Whatever’s in the pool will eventually end up in the filtration system, so besides cicadas there would be leaves, band-aids, small toys, goggles, katydids, beetles, moths, ants, crickets, frogs, the occasional rodent, sticks, pebbles, hair clots, duck feathers, hair scrunchies, daddy long-legs, occasional condoms, lightning bugs, and God knows what else. And because not all the baskets fit right, the gunk they were supposed to trap would slip down to the bottom of the filter well. You would have to lie down on the concrete already getting hot from the morning sun, reach an arm down, and scoop up whatever was down there with your bare hands before plopping it into the bucket.
That is one of my more vivid sensory memories: lying on the ground and dredging up these handfuls of dead cicadas, plump pale little bodies like drowning victims, all falling apart. Occasionally you’d find one that had managed to stay alive by scrambling on top of his buddies, and they’d dig their clawed little legs into your skin weakly and try to take off with their water-logged wings. You could still feel their claws on the skin of your hands and arm even after you shook them off, all creepy-crawly. We’d leave them on the concrete so that they could dry off in the sun (or, if you were feeling particularly malicious, you could leave them on the seat of the lifeguarding chair for the next unsuspecting guard to sit down upon) but the stupid little bastards always fell right back into the water again. I’d sit in the chair and watch them struggle in the water, wondering if they’d be dead by the time my shift was over and blowing the whistle at the children who flung them at each other for fun.
I resented the cicadas a bit at the time, because I didn’t like having to deal with the goosh-factor and smell, but mostly I liked them. I felt sorry for the ones I couldn’t save, even though there were thousands that did survive. It just seemed like the ones in the pool were getting ripped off by nature. Here they’ve slept seventeen years in the ground, waiting for the day they’d laboriously crawl forth, split their skins, spread their wings and fly into the air-and what happens but they end up in the water, an element they had no idea of what to do with. You wonder if they were terribly confused by it all.
It’s all very sad in a way. The best laid plans of lifeguards and cicadas gang aft agley.
Sometimes, someone gives you links that are so good or so horrible that you have to share them with everyone you’re IMing with at the same time. It’s like watching multiple simultaneous trainwrecks, but what I mostly like about it is that it’s totally like a psychology experiment, and not like those ones I had to participate in during freshman year. You get to chart peoples’ reactions to the same wonderful/horrible thing, and predict what they’ll say, find the common factors. Presumably after that you apply that knowledge for some-I don’t know, higher purpose, but I’m in it solely for the reactions.
All links should be considered not safe for work. And Kadrin’s reactions are located further down his conversation.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: Oh, that reminds me. I was looking at vintage pr0n today.
ThorneScratch: Oh? Tell me more!
FlidgetJeromeEsq: It's more a show than a tell, so I have to worry about your mother coming by.
ThorneScratch: I am totally alone, and also pantsless.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: Um, awesome! This is all Victorian het porn, which I love for being so terribly decorous.
ThorneScratch: Is there bodice busting?
FlidgetJeromeEsq: http://vintagelovelies.com/cabinet/vintageporn/pic/vintageporn_11_02
FlidgetJeromeEsq: Not quite, you know. I've seen, like, two girls in bodices but there wasn't much busting involved
ThorneScratch: AUGH BEARD.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: Honestly, that first one, it's all about the beard.
ThorneScratch: ...Dude, where is his wang? Is he just, you know, just humping between her thighs? Not certain of where to put it?
FlidgetJeromeEsq: http://vintagelovelies.com/cabinet/vintageporn/pic/vintageporn_13_04
FlidgetJeromeEsq: Then, some very lady-like bondage.
ThorneScratch: You know, that looks like a scene from a girl's boarding school disciplinary mistress.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: And finally the most polite titty-fucking ever.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: http://vintagelovelies.com/cabinet/vintageporn/pic/vintageporn_03_14
ThorneScratch: Wow. I like how he still has his tie on, all neatly tied and proper. That’s just. Yeah.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: I know. It’s ever so well mannered. My other big find of the day was a gallery of vintage 1970s gay porn.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: http://www.groovyguys.com/008mag/008mag011.jpg
ThorneScratch: Oh God.
ThorneScratch: ....well, actually, that wasn't as bad as I expected. I expected 70's style bush. Like crawling through Vietnam, or something.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: That's actually as bad as it gets. Nah, for some reason all the vintage gay porn sites seem to prefer twinks.
ThorneScratch: Man. I like how in that pic you totally don't notice the penis. Your eye is immediately drawn to the shirt and stays there.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: You really don't, do you? It never gets as bad as that in the rest.
ThorneScratch: And his matching hat.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: And of course if you can tear your eyes away from the h-- yes. Exactly.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: http://www.groovyguys.com/008mag/008mag002.jpg
FlidgetJeromeEsq: It's all from the very straightforward “diary of a young man coming out”. Which doesn't really involve much coming out at all, but it does involve quite a lot of men trying to eat other men's trousers.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: http://www.groovyguys.com/stills07.html
FlidgetJeromeEsq: http://www.groovyguys.com/008mag/008mag030.jpg
ThorneScratch: Those must be some tasty pants. Damn. Lookit him go.
FlidgetJeromeEsq: I have to say I was having trouble following who was the hero. It's a fabulous haircut but it lends the proceedings a decidedly twincesty air.
ThorneScratch: It certainly does.
***
ThorneScratch: Flidget is showing me Victorian porn.
twigcollins: You know, no matter what people are doing, when they do it in those clothes it looks so bloody serious and dignified.
ThorneScratch: You know, she totally said the exact same thing!
twigcollins: "What is it Lieutenant Sebastian?"
ThorneScratch: http://vintagelovelies.com/cabinet/vintageporn/pic/vintageporn_03_14
ThorneScratch: That was my favorite of the Victorian ones. Flidget described that as "the most polite titty-fucking ever".
twigcollins: It is. Jesus.
twigcollins: "So, lovely day."
twigcollins: "Quite."
ThorneScratch: "Beg your pardon, I'm about to jizz on your face."
ThorneScratch: "Oh, that's quite all right."
ThorneScratch: Oh God, you gotta see this one. She’s moved on to bad 70’s porn.
ThorneScratch: http://www.groovyguys.com/008mag/008mag011.jpg
ThorneScratch: Look at that shirt. And his jauntily matching hat.
twigcollins: Okay, on that first one? Why is his shirt still buttoned IF HE’S NOT WEARING PANTS?
ThorneScratch: http://www.groovyguys.com/008mag/008mag002.jpg
ThorneScratch: And those pants would make you sterile.
twigcollins: Those pants give off radiation. Those pants are the anti-horny. EXCUSE ME SIR. PLEASE TO BE TURNING DOWN THE VOLUME ON YOUR PANTS BEFORE BJ'S. MUCH OBLIGED.
ThorneScratch: Zack owns those pants.
twigcollins: Of course he does. Cloud probably screamed the first time he saw them.
ThorneScratch: Like a frightened virgin.
twigcollins: Zack: What is it? What's wrong?
twigcollins: Cloud: Bad. Bad bad bad.
ThorneScratch: Zack: I'll wear the bottoms and you wear the top!
twigcollins: Sephiroth: What in the hell is going on in-- oh God I'm blind. *making stabby motions with the masamune* Zack, get it over here so I can end the nightmare.
twigcollins: Cloud: It burns! It burns!
twigcollins: Zack: It'll be back in fashion, you watch!
ThorneScratch: Zack refuses to give up his bellbottoms. Ever.
***
ThorneScratch: Uh, Catt said to ask you about Ultimecia and Anima? Also, your baby sister pronouncing the name of the destroyer of worlds is so cute.
KadrinHeroSchool: Ah, yes! Give me a moment.
ThorneScratch: Take two, they're cheap today.
KadrinHeroSchool: Right. Ultimecia's final form.
http://www.warmech.net/ff8/bosses/ultimecia-3-1.jpg
A toy of Anima.
http://www.jlcideas.com/Image/ffx-monster-Anima.jpg
Note that they both have a similar overall shape, and a bit at the bottom. Note the bit at the bottom close up for Ulti, here...
http://www.warmech.net/ff8/bosses/ultimecia-3-2.jpg
Note, also, its similar stance with Anima's bit at the bottom.
ThorneScratch: ....You know, what mainly jumps out at me is how much of a hard-on Square has for blue nipples. But yes, I see the similarities!
KadrinHeroSchool: Only on evil monsters. Tifa never had blue nipples.
ThorneScratch: This is like that Mr. Fantastic's groin thing, though-- did we ever canonically see Tifa's nipples?
...does that mean Seifer had blue nipples? God, what a thought.
KadrinHeroSchool: Oh, sure, there was that ten minute "naked dancing" sequence. All kinds of boy fanficcers assure me it was in there.
(Well, Seifer's not a monster, and never has a final form. Still, though, does Kuja have blue nipples? Strong possibility!)
ThorneScratch: I always heard it as the "naked jumprope" sequence. Huh. Perhaps we had different games.
(Don't forget Seymour! Man, I feel like there should be a support group for this. You'd have all the different Shivas sitting around and eyeing each other suspiciously.)
KadrinHeroSchool: SHIVA: Hello, my name is Shiva, and I... I have...
KUJA: I know it's to show an acceptance of the problem and a desire to change, but we can see.
ThorneScratch: ....And then Akio wanders in, vaguely confused about where to find the support group for Indian-Appearance-Bastardized Villains, and ends up getting slapped by half of the support group and shagging the other half in a janitorial closet.
KadrinHeroSchool: Akio typically shags support groups. It's what he does; he goes around, shagging entire support groups.
The Sex Addiction support group now has a specially reinforced blast door just to keep Akio out.
ThorneScratch: Akio is one of those people who considers support groups a prime dating scene. Friday nights? He's at the YMCA, getting serious amounts of depressed/psychotic/addicted/blue-nippled tail.
I see it like the gate in King Kong-- this massive thing that they set a struggling sacrifice before once a year, in advent of his approach.
KadrinHeroSchool: The support group for People Who Are Afraid Of Sex And Don't Like To Be Touched love him; he's an instant cure for an entire meeting at once. Akio considers everything a prime dating scene, though. Churches. Anti-Sex Leagues. Retirement homes.
The sex-addiction support group draws lots to decide who's being staked outside. The person who gets picked is always intellectually horrified, but emotionally kinda pleased.
ThorneScratch: "A dose of Akio will clear that right up!"
"Wait, I thought I needed something to cure me from what he gave me last time..."
And I assume it depends on whether you're being sacrificed to movie Akio or series Akio.
KadrinHeroSchool: You use Akio to cure fear of being touched, and then some serious penicillin regimes to cure Akio. It's a complicated process. Being sacrificed to movie Akio would, indeed, be a fate worse than death. He's just not what he could be.
ThorneScratch: Hot Akio injection. God. God. I get the impression that movie Akio tries very hard but just isn't very good at it, at all. At the climax, he winds up falling off the wall or something. But first he stabs you with a painting tool.
KadrinHeroSchool: ...I have gotten behind on my talking, and I apologise. I meant to say something about being stabbed with painting tools, but I think I'm out of the game. "Yep," I would say, "that sure is a painting tool stabbing." Akio should really get a specific knife for that kind of thing. Then he wouldn't need to get blood on his palette knife.
ThorneScratch: Oh, it's okay, I'm looking at Victorian porn. And bad 70's porn. It's almost but not quite as mesmerizing as the Ocelot gif. Mostly it's great for the very ugly clothes they are wearing. To tie it back to the conversation, we should make Akio wear these clothes in punishment. I would link you, but they are NSFW.
KadrinHeroSchool: We should combine the two. Bustles, penny-farthing bicycles, handlebar-moustaches and beehive hairdos... "My word, my good pimp, it would appear that I do not have enough of the green to purchase this pizza I have requested! Would you accept gettin' it on freaky disco style in payment?"
ThorneScratch: ...Yes.
Except it might possibly cause the universe to collapse. No one wants that. In the 70's pictures, they all seem to be trying to eat each other's clothing, though, and that might be difficult when it comes to the bodices and corsets. So much boning, you see.
KadrinHeroSchool: ...Just not sexy. "If you're hungry, there's a pizza right over there, okay? It's the one we're having sex for. Try to focus."
ThorneScratch: Only in a Victorian speech pattern! It would be the most polite, yet most hallucinogenic sex crossover ever.
KadrinHeroSchool: In the background, "Land of Hope and Glory" performed by that band that did "Incense and Peppermints".
ThorneScratch: There's probably opium involved, somewhere. Oh my God, this is the least.... wow. I just. Wow. I didn't even notice the sexual hijinks in this picture, just the horrible shirt. I need to show you this.
KadrinHeroSchool: If a shirt is horrible enough to deflect hijinks... man, that must be a horrible shirt.
ThorneScratch: ...Click if you dare. And if no one's around.
KadrinHeroSchool: ...At least the hat matches.
...my god, that's the world's worst shirt.
And it doesn't even fit him.
ThorneScratch: I know. I mean, the matching hat is just icing. And it only gets worse. There are tight plaid pants.
KadrinHeroSchool: I mean, I have no issue with the safe for work nature, it's the safe for sanity. That is bad, bad fashion.
ThorneScratch: Which is why it would be perfect to punish Akio with, you see! Agree/Disagree?
KadrinHeroSchool: Agreed! Oh, man, utterly agreed. Akio with that shirt would be... oh, it'd be horribly wonderful.
ThorneScratch: For real. Shit, dude, that's far worse than being continuously stabbed by the Million Swords of Humanity's Hatred.
KadrinHeroSchool: "Million Swords... horrible shirt... Million Swords... horrible - I'll take the Million Swords."
ThorneScratch: Akio is just such a pansy, really.
***
And we’re not even getting into the various reactions everyone had when the link to “pregnant Cloud getting kidnapped by ninjas” was circulating. God. God.
***
ThorneScratch: Hey. Dude. Did you read the thing about Uwe Boll?
twigcollins: The lawsuit?
ThorneScratch: No.
twigcollins: Is he dead? Dying?
ThorneScratch: No and no, sadly. It's the thing about him offering to fight other film directors in a boxing ring.
twigcollins: O.O
ThorneScratch: I know. Hang on, let me find it for you.
twigcollins: God, I would love to see him go after Tarantino. Tarantino is a mean fucker. Little squirrely guy like that? Oh, it is on, bitches.
ThorneScratch: Here. Oh, totally. And I bet Boll is a hair-puller. I'd love to see him get slapped around, and I am so in favor of him and Tarantino going at it because I wouldn't mind seeing Tarantino take a few to the face too. I only hope the whole thing wouldn't end in sweet lovemaking. Awesome article, huh?
twigcollins: Yeah, just let me stop dry heaving from the thought of Tarantino having sex. God, he'd look like a guinea pig.
twigcollins: "Many journalists make value judgments on my films on the opinions of one or two thousand Internet voices," Boll said.
twigcollins: You know, that's what the emperor said about the Death Star.
ThorneScratch: "I find your lack of faith disturbing."
ThorneScratch: But Boll isn't even important enough to be an emperor. He's like.... a Moff. A junior Moff. Moff in training. Hell, this man is a stormtrooper, if anything.
twigcollins: "Many councilmen make value judgments on my decisions based on the opinions of one or two whole planets crying out in pain."
twigcollins: "On the message boards, you have, like, tons of people, they want to punish me, kill me, grill me, shoot me, everything. The Internet threats are so full of hate in a lot of times that I think it goes way over the top of normal reviews and normal talk about a director."
twigcollins: Yes, Mr. Boll, because we've never hated anyone quite as much as you before. It's a surprise to us too.
ThorneScratch: What a strange, bitchy little man.
twigcollins: Super-horror. Super horror? What the hell is super horror? Do they kill you, reanimate you, and kill you again?
ThorneScratch: I think it's horror kicked up a notch. Bam!
twigcollins: Oh my God, I didn't even know he mentioned Tarantino until the bottom of this interview.
ThorneScratch: I know. Seriously, I want to seem them in the ring together.
twigcollins: "This is more a gag," he said. "I'm not counting on Quentin Tarantino coming up to Vancouver."
twigcollins: Yeah, watch him back off.
ThorneScratch: Can't you see them screaming at each other?
twigcollins: Shit, I wouldn't fight Tarantino. He's like the fucking Tasmanian devil. You'd come out missing fingers and hair and eyes and shit.
twigcollins: Oh please. Please, Quentin. Do it for the children.
ThorneScratch: You need someone else to tag team him. Like, you kneel down and then your friend hits him with a folding chair.
twigcollins: Yes. God. Okay, Boll and Schumacher. Versus. Um. Tarantino and...
ThorneScratch: Russell Crowe?
twigcollins: Nah, it's gotta be another director. Spike Lee? He seems pissed off all the time.
ThorneScratch: George Lucas?
twigcollins: Wait, Lucas should be on Boll's side. Forget Schumacher, he still sucks but not in the same over the top, vainglorious way.
ThorneScratch: Aww. I like Lucas. I mean, he's a bit of a dingus but I still like him. He's part of my childhood.
twigcollins: Yeah, but Lucas is pretty much...
twigcollins: Lucas <------------------------------------->reality
ThorneScratch: Lucas can be the crazy dude who dings the bell to start the match.
twigcollins: Who does the ring card thing?
ThorneScratch: Yeah. He hands out water bottles and orange slices at the break. Oh, oh. Cronenberg. Let Cronenberg fight alongside Tarantino.
twigcollins: Yes. Okay, here's the most important question: who films the fight?
ThorneScratch: ...Oliver Stone?
twigcollins: HA.
ThorneScratch: David Fincher? He did Fight Club, he has experience.
twigcollins: True.
ThorneScratch: Francis Coppola? Hmm. You know, if he weren't dead, I'd say Stanley Kubrick.
twigcollins: Kubrick could do it anyway. I think dead, he'd have just about the same intelligence as Boll.
ThorneScratch: So, the reanimated corpse of Kubrick?
twigcollins: Yeah. Or his jar of ashes.
ThorneScratch: Spot-on! Who is doing the soundtrack for the fight?
twigcollins: I think John Williams. He can put in some tie-fighter sounding crap. Is that Williams? I like some of his stuff, I honestly do. Some of the Star Wars themes are just great. But God is he heavy-handed. We could go minimalist Phillip Glass otherwise
ThorneScratch: John Williams would be perfect for this. He does great over-the-top DOOM music.
twigcollins: Steel cage match?
ThorneScratch: I think they should use those gladiator battle staff things. No helmets.
twigcollins: Two men enter, one man leaves.
***
ThorneScratch: Did you see that article about the Queen’s guards?
twigcollins: Kickassssssss.
ThorneScratch: “Flapping manhoods.”
ThorneScratch: Zack: Now that's what I'm talking about.
ThorneScratch: Sephiroth: >.<
twigcollins: Zack: It only hurts when you're sober.
twigcollins: Reno: What the hell is this sober everyone keeps talking about?
ThorneScratch: Unexpected wang. It is something you just have to put up with around Zack.
twigcollins: Cloud says eventually you don't really notice it unless he does something really obvious. Which is worse because then he gets creative. You know, Zack's belt looks an awful lot like one of those WWF wrestling belts
ThorneScratch: You know, it rather does.
twigcollins: He'd get Cloud around corners. "ARMBAR!" *grab*
twigcollins: He's like Hobbes from Calvin and Hobbes
ThorneScratch: Oh man, yes. High velocity pouncing
ThorneScratch: Cloud: Ohno.
ThorneScratch: *GLOMPWHAMRUMBLE*
ThorneScratch: Cloud: ...ouch.
twigcollins: Shoes and socks flying.
twigcollins: Zack: Hey, look, we made the whole hallway. I started bending at the knees. I think that amps up the distance.
ThorneScratch: Zack also goes all boneless if you scritch him behind the ears.
twigcollins: And you can rub his tummy. Zack goo. On crap mornings, he oozes out of bed.
ThorneScratch: That, or just refuses to get up at all. He clamps onto Cloud so Cloud can't get up either.
twigcollins: Yes. "There’re two of us. We have a majority."
twigcollins: Sephiroth: *considers ice materia*
twigcollins: Zack: You wouldn't dare.
ThorneScratch: Zack: You'd hit Cloud!
twigcollins: Zack knows how good his aim is, though. He has to keep a movable Cloud shield.
ThorneScratch: Cloud is squirmy and doesn't cover too much area. He has to keep him over the most important bits.
twigcollins: Bob and weave. Strategic Cloud implementation. There’s a whole strategy; he wrote it on a beer napkin once.
ThorneScratch: Then, Reno ate the napkin.
twigcollins: To be fair, they were out of pretzels.
twigcollins: Reno: I don't hate anyone.
twigcollins: Zack: What about that guy you threw through the wall?
twigcollins: Reno: He was in my way.
ThorneScratch: He got between Reno and the keg. That’s like walking between a mother bear and her cub.
twigcollins: Once Reno is out of visual range of the keg, he gets nervous and confused. It’s like his GPS system.
ThorneScratch: He has a biochemical need to be inhaling at least 12% fumes.
twigcollins: At this point, to sober him up would most likely kill him.
ThorneScratch: Like those fish that live deep within the ocean, get used to the water pressure, and then explode if they come to the surface.
twigcollins: He has alcohol sense... like sonar, with bats. He can ping it. He got a false positive on the jar of Jenova juice. "Maybe if we mix it with some rum."
ThorneScratch: Little Jenova cocktails with the tiny festive umbrellas. Add some maraschino cherries, fix that right up.
twigcollins: The poor clones. I can hear them meeping.
ThorneScratch: “Stop drinking Mom!”
***
twigcollins: "No, Zack, I don't believe you and the cat traded bodies. Yes, I know it happened in that movie."
ThorneScratch: Zack and Sephiroth switching bodies for a day. Cloud and Zack switching bodies for a day
twigcollins: God.
ThorneScratch: I don't know which is worse. Of course, there would be no real difference if Zack and Reno switched for a day.
twigcollins: "I have WHAT level clearance!?"
twigcollins: Sephiroth: NO.
twigcollins: Dude, if Zack and Cloud switched, Zack would just jerk off all day long.
twigcollins: Cloud: I feel used.
twigcollins: Zack: Easiest molesterin' I ever did
ThorneScratch: Cloud would keep bumping into things because he wouldn’t be used to the center of gravity. He’d forget to duck when going under low archways and whack himself.
twigcollins: Go to pick up the sword, forget he could actually pick it up. And then, bury it in the wall.
twigcollins: Zack: Good show.
twigcollins: Cloud: If you break my body before I get back into it, I will hurt you.
twigcollins: Zack: Where's the clutch?
twigcollins: Cloud: It's a body, dumbass, it doesn't have the clutch!
twigcollins: Zack: Wonder what I pulled, then.
ThorneScratch: Zack: You know what this thing needs to feel homey? A tattoo.
twigcollins: Give it that 'lived in' feel.
***
twigcollins: You can buy a $7 Twinkie in New York, or so I am told.
ThorneScratch: You totally can. And you can eat it on the subway. Such freedom!
twigcollins: Only in America. And several other countries. Wait. Do Twinkies export? Does anyone else even want them?
ThorneScratch: Maybe to build walls out of them. You can't destroy a Twinkie.
twigcollins: I'd give them to aliens. "Check this shit out."
ThorneScratch: The Dutch would buy them. Make dikes out of them, you know?
twigcollins: Seriously, watertight. You could make a submarine out of Twinkies. The crew would never sleep. Too much sugar.
ThorneScratch: Zack and Reno already think it is the best idea ever. Sephiroth has already taken Cloud away.
ThorneScratch: "You don't deserve it."
twigcollins: His alarm went off.
ThorneScratch: "You can have it back when you’re less stupid."
twigcollins: He can hear when Cloud's heartbeat goes over 300. Which is usually the time they're deciding which end to stick Cloud in. Headfirst? Feetfirst?
I don’t want to work. I want to sit in this tremulous and miraculous sunshine, and listen to the Counting Crows. I actually wish I was back at St. Mary’s, because this would be a perfect day to sit on the Point and stare out at the river. Except the Point is probably underwater right now from the flooding, so. Right. Work it is.