First, an administrative note: About half of my LJ comment notifications are showing up with nothing in them. At all. Except for the name of the person who left it. Which means that unless the comment is in my journal, or I can guess where the comment was left (like, it's from someone whose journal I left a comment in earlier), I have no way of
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Comments 55
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I have many uses for bagpipe music, actually. A different set of neighbor kids have a garage band. A Linkin Park and Limp Bizkit cover garage band, to be exact. You haven't lived until you've spent every Saturday afternoon listening to a kid with a breaking voice shout: "I did it all for the nookie! The [hideous squeal of tortured guitar] nookie! The [drum machine stops abruptly] nookie! So you can take your cookie and [the rest of the line is obscured by what sounds like every note ever, played all at once on a badly tuned guitar]."
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If you want entertainment, you need to be in the car with me when I pull up to a stop light next to some Bass-Mobile
*dies* I want to do this *so very much* now.
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*heals brain*
*looks very hopeful*
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Yes, God yes. Bless you, TFV, and blessings upon your entire house. The lack of Scrubs slash (hell, I ship JD/Dr Cox, but I'd totally learn to live with JD/Turk if I had to!) is a constant source of misery and woe in these here parts (take 'parts' to mean whatever you like), and I am on a holy mission to bring the Joy and Glory of Scrubs Fandom unto all and sundry. Mind, it's a slow mission. May I also recommend My Big Breakup by Sabine and My Life In Tights by not jenny, if these haven't yet crossed your path?
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Another lonely sister/brother/sibling in Scrubs fandom! We must stick together, we few, we proud, we connoisseurs of J.D.'s brain.
May I also recommend My Big Breakup by Sabine and My Life In Tights by not jenny, if these haven't yet crossed your path?
Sadly, I already knew those. My Big Breakup is actually the story that got me into this fandom; when I read that, I didn't even know what Scrubs was. And My Life in Tights is wonderful; I plan to rec it nearer to Christmas time. (Although I may not be able to resist doing it earlier. Is there ever a bad time for J.D. in tights?) I've also recommended My Claustrophobia and My Letter 'O' - I'm assuming you've read those? - which are great stories. And I have four more waiting to be rec'd, and that's all the Scrubs FF I know of, basically.
*sighs*
Still, they're great stories. This fandom must have the best ever good story:total stories ratio.
*cheers up again*
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*pokes it*
*pokes it some more*
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*pokes LJ very firmly indeed*
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~
Rodney is looking around John's room; as John searches for the DVD he borrowed, Rodney is searching for John's personal item. "You brought a poster of Johnny Cash as your personal item?"
"Nah. That was Sumner's."
"A guitar, then? Oh, god. I bet you learned like four chords and got laid on the strength of them for the next eight years."
"Brought that back on the Daedalus."
"I notice you're not arguing about the chords, though." Rodney looks around one more time and his eyes settle on John's footlocker. Which proves to be locked. But there's 20 chocolate bars waiting for the scientist who can get definitive evidence of John's personal item - turned out he borrowed the Hail Mary recording from Sgt. Daniels, which kept the scientists from picking up his trail for months. Rodney thinks of chocolate - oh, god, Snickers - and starts to pick the lock.
John pauses in his search to look fondly at his guitar. "I feel no need to convince you of my musical prowess, Rodney." Anyway, Rodney's wrong; John learned six chords ( ... )
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Rodney hasn't ever seen John this upset, not ever. He looks at the tiger again - old, ratty, frayed and coming apart along the tail and an ear, and his middle is all compressed; after a second, Rodney realizes that that's because someone held him there a lot, probably for years. Rodney looks at John again, tries to find something to say ( ... )
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