When I get really cold, my eyebrows ache. It hurts a lot. I like to pretend spiky little frost imps are hanging off of my eyebrows by their sharp little icicle teeth.
Jacob Hood learned about the miracle of childbirth at the grand high age of six, when his cat had five tiny, squirmy kittens that looked like slimy drowned rats. He watched Cassiopeia munch on her placentas and wondered why humans didn't have litters. When he asked his mom, she made a noise sort of like a laugh and sort of like she was about to cry, and said he was more than enough for a litter all on his own. Jacob said that didn't make any sense, because he couldn't very well play time-traveling space pirates by *himself*.
When Jacob was eight years old, he asked his pastor if the dinosaurs were too big to fit on Noah's arc, and if that was why they were extinct, and if that *was* why, then how come they didn't still have little dinosaurs like Lesotosaurus? Instead of snapping at him not to ask those kinds of questions like the mean Sunday school lady, Father Hillary explained that God made the world, so he was bigger and more complicated than anything else, ever, and God’s word was complicated and meant all sorts of different things in ways it didn’t always say. Jacob suddenly understood why some of the grown-ups got so happy in church, because God was all though the world, making sure everything (mostly) worked just right.
Jacob Hood lost his virginity to an acid-dropping, counter-cultural transvestite named Jamie Addison Thackary. Jamie had a knack for turning things inside-out and up-side down, confirming Jacob’s deep-seated suspicion - more like an intuitive yearning - that even things people thought were simple were actually myriad and multifaceted and infinite. To then-fifteen year old Jacob, vibrant, generous, shameless Jamie was the most fascinating person he’d ever met. They’d been together just about five months when Jamie suffered one bad trip, ending up in a small, drab box of a mental hospital two states away.
Why Rachel is awesomecakes:
The raw, chaotic force of nature that is Jacob Hood will not beat her. He amazes, aggravates, and overwhelms her, but she has learned to weather the madness, the mystery, and the melodrama and do her job regardless. And no matter what, her hair remains *perfect*.
Jacob Hood learned about the miracle of childbirth at the grand high age of six, when his cat had five tiny, squirmy kittens that looked like slimy drowned rats. He watched Cassiopeia munch on her placentas and wondered why humans didn't have litters. When he asked his mom, she made a noise sort of like a laugh and sort of like she was about to cry, and said he was more than enough for a litter all on his own. Jacob said that didn't make any sense, because he couldn't very well play time-traveling space pirates by *himself*.
When Jacob was eight years old, he asked his pastor if the dinosaurs were too big to fit on Noah's arc, and if that was why they were extinct, and if that *was* why, then how come they didn't still have little dinosaurs like Lesotosaurus? Instead of snapping at him not to ask those kinds of questions like the mean Sunday school lady, Father Hillary explained that God made the world, so he was bigger and more complicated than anything else, ever, and God’s word was complicated and meant all sorts of different things in ways it didn’t always say. Jacob suddenly understood why some of the grown-ups got so happy in church, because God was all though the world, making sure everything (mostly) worked just right.
Jacob Hood lost his virginity to an acid-dropping, counter-cultural transvestite named Jamie Addison Thackary. Jamie had a knack for turning things inside-out and up-side down, confirming Jacob’s deep-seated suspicion - more like an intuitive yearning - that even things people thought were simple were actually myriad and multifaceted and infinite. To then-fifteen year old Jacob, vibrant, generous, shameless Jamie was the most fascinating person he’d ever met. They’d been together just about five months when Jamie suffered one bad trip, ending up in a small, drab box of a mental hospital two states away.
Why Rachel is awesomecakes:
The raw, chaotic force of nature that is Jacob Hood will not beat her. He amazes, aggravates, and overwhelms her, but she has learned to weather the madness, the mystery, and the melodrama and do her job regardless. And no matter what, her hair remains *perfect*.
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