September 7th, 2007

brown flower

so. who's up for masochism?

Icon courtesy of zee. You are about to find out why I am using it.

I'm very bored, at work, and so far, the point of high interest has been discussion on whether or not a a cloud has the potential to be a stormcloud later.

Discussion. Of. A. Potential. Stormcloud.

I have no words.

So. Traumatize me.

Give me badfic smut. Except I want you to write it. One line.

See, me and zee started last night! (it was very late. very, very late. I hope.)

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So. One line. The worst smutty badfic with the most awkward metaphors, unlikely similes, and language that can destroy souls. Come on. You totally want to.

(extra points for sentence length. if there were points involved. i could add points?)

ETA: Added from my earlier entry--by emrinalexander

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It's like watching The Hustler Food Channel. The Gay Hustler Food Channel. The Sci-Fi Gay Hustler Food Channel.
children of dune - leto 1

This Woman Could Totally Kick My Ass AKA Made of Win

I'm trying to think of a way to preface this link, but so far, it's mostly some kind of tear-filled cliche type thing of survival, so I'll simplify.

I want to be able to do this when I'm seventy-six. God, I'd like to know I could do this *now*, and I'm seriously not sure I could.

Rescuers find woman, 76, given up for dead

Ora Doris Anderson. Seventy-six. Two weeks in the Oregan wilderness. Sitting by a creek. Injured hip but was alert. Seventy-six.

From article:

Anderson had been lightly dressed in a wilderness area where temperatures had dipped into the 30s Fahrenheit over the past two weeks, The Associated Press reported.

Seriously. That's just made of win.