( I'm a bummy, unresponsive sucktard )

Um de dum. raking_leaves and I are hiking up to NYC today for the Concerts for Victory Comedy Night, at the Knitting Factory, a benefit gathering featuring the likes of Demetri Martin, Michael Showalter, Zak Orth *fans*, Eugene Mirman and some other boffo folks.

So, yeah. I will miss and love you all while I am gone. All of you. Forever.

The song "Sound and ( Read more... )

I wanted my next post to be all fun with the Writercon recounting, but I've lapsed into the old "wah, I'm too tired to post real content" pattern. So, in lieu of detailed recollections and/or Jane Espenson ( Read more... )

Well. I'm back in dreary Philly. *crickets chirp*

Er, there's no way I can do writercon justice. I'm not talking the panels here, because I'm horrible and didn't attend that many--I'm talking the physics-defying dimensions of kickassishness that is hanging out with so many wicked cool girls at one time. More succinctly--it rocked hard. Talk about finding ( Read more... )

( my uterus goes bang )

Excited. Very excited. Writercon. Also known as, the-event-wherein-I-fawn-over-numerous-girls-without-regard-for-my-dignity. Oh yay ( Read more... )

Son of a ( Read more... )

Demetri Martin was hysterical. Large-nosed, self-deprecating, and alarmingly introspective in an "oh, oh, so we're talking life lessons now" sorta way. Spiral bound... That guy's brilliant, I'll tell you.

And really hot. Hot times ten, on account of the intellect. Smarts make everyone sexier. Like Stephen Hawking. Whom I crush on, rather ( Read more... )

Palindromes. Yay. This Saturday, raking_leaves and I shall journey to NYC to partake in the glory of Demetri Martin and his sexass wordplay ( Read more... )

Today, I watched Ghost and Rocky IV and cried during their respective tragedies. The best part is that I was also waxing my bikini line in the buff ( Read more... )