sheldrake

Well, not really a big old rant. I just wanted to have a go at explaining why the forthcoming film of The Dark is Rising makes me boil with incoherent rage. First, imagine a book you really care about. Then imagine they're talking about the movie adaptation of that book in the following quotes:

( Cut for the many people who probably don't care )

I forgot -- I was going to apologise for the shameless way I begged you all to say happy birthday to me in my last post. Sorry about that!

Now, I will spoil the effect with some late-night bitchery (not directed at people on my flist, of course).

Dear people who are really good at graphics and icons but not so much with words: I do wish you would stop ruining your lovely images by adding cringeworthy and cliched bits of text. That is all.

Dear fic writers: when posting stuff for the web, I wish you would hit return twice between paragraphs and lines of dialogue. It's so much easier to read on a screen. Also, I find it helps if you read it through at least once before hitting 'post'. That is all.

Ah, communities...

LONDON does not live in a county. I CANNOT PICK ONE ACCURATELY FROM YOUR DROPDOWN BOX! Also, it would be really nice if you answered my email regarding the above. Thank you.

Wot? My rage is totally under control, I'll have you know.

Um, but yes. Let's think of some good stuff: dandy_walker has been cooking bravely and with flair throughout the week of his ear infection. galactic_jack has been accepted onto a film journalism course. Um, people have been writing things for valentines hoorah. I have a lovely lot of fic in my various 'to read' folders. I am not at work right now. I have had some hot chocolate. SOCKS! Socks are good. The weather was quite nice this morning. It is lighter in the evenings! I have semi-good sandwiches tomorrow. quailquill gave me virtual chocolates. kitchencynic gave me her Morrissey icon and reminded me of the possibility of half price chocolate. I have had the odd thought. Like:

• I'm sure someone must have said this before, possibly even me, but someone ought to write a story about The Three Captain Jacks. Sparrow, Aubrey and Harkness. Lost in time and space, and yes it would be confusing and silly.


• Chicklit. I don't like what I've read of it, much. But why should it be bad? Someone should write about actual, live women who ... this is where I realise I haven't thought it through, but it involved buying knickers that you later realise are terribly uncomfortable, and Gay Best Friends who are not particularly interested in fixing our heroine's lovelife or wardrobe, because they are actually people and not accessories.


• When will people who rec things at crack_van will one day realise that it is All About Me, and not be so silly as to spend a month reccing pairings I'm not interested in reading? *flounce*


• Can someone please get me the number for International Career Rescue?

Hmm, this was supposed to be Good Stuff, wasn't it? Oh well. C'est la vie.

Why is it ten past nine?

The answer to that is, of course, that it's not. This post was rambled into existence last night, but was cruelly struck down in its prime by a sudden lack of internet.

Wow, ok. I am in the most appallingly, devastatingly bad mood today, I will consider it a minor miracle if I have not committed a violent crime before the day is out.

Just thought you'd like to know.

I keel you all and I keel your families and your pets!!!!!!

Dear people at work:

I'm sorry, I can't help it. I just really want to hit you quite a lot. It's not really your fault, except when it is.

Things I have heard people say recently:

Girl on bus (to bus driver): Oh, I had a wicked weekend, we went to London for my birthday, I kicked this shopping trolley? So it would go in the river? And my foot, right, went through the bars and the bit at the top came up, right, and hit me in the chest, here -- I've got bruises all along here -- and I went flying backwards, right, and straight into a wall, and they was all trying to pull me out of this trolley, but I was so drunk I was just lying there on the floor and I couldn't move. Yeah, it was wicked.

C, most tedious of workmates: ( SPOILERS for Brokeback Mountain ARRGH I FORGOT I'M SO SORRY )

OMG NO I MADE A SMALL MISTAKE!!!!!!!!!!! I AM SO EVIL! PLEASE, PUNISH ME FOR THIS HEINOUS CRIME!!!!!1111#

wankers.

I have been feeling particularly uncoordinated today. I was extra careful to be extra careful whilst handling coffee cups etc, and fumbled around with bits of paper a lot. On the way back from the bus stop I tripped on the kerb and fell, skinning my hands and bashing my knees up right good. If I'd been a racehorse, they'd have had to have shot me. Luckily I am not a racehorse.

Then I nearly did it again less than five minutes later.

Swelling and stinging went on to occur in large measures, and continue to occur.

Finished Toast and it was right good. It made me feel hungry and occasionally sick and then hungry again. Now I would like some chef slash please.

When I bought Toast I also bought The Arabian Nights. I blame lobelia321 for this.

Probably my last day at work tomorrow. I will not be sad to leave the New Person, henceforth known as C. ( Rant about C behind cut so as to spare the delicate feelings of my long-suffering housemates )

Do you ever get a bit sick of subtext? Sometimes I just want it to be text and have done with it.

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Some people seem to have very strange ideas of what constitutes a disclaimer. For instance:

"This never happened ... probably ... or it might have done ... actually it did, it's all true."

Uhuh. Right.

"I do not own [insert names of real people here]. They belong to themselves."

Yeah, you've got the wrong end of the stick here, haven't you? As far as I know, RPS writers have never been in much danger of being sued for slavery.

"This [story about other people's fictional characters] never happened."

Again -- wrong end of the stick.

"This belongs to me, don't steal it."

*backs slowly away*

Brain has gone on extended holiday apparently. I didn't know it well, but still, I'll miss it.

( People I would like to, um... send off to a nice little island where they can have fun on their own and stop bothering us decent people )

My nice teapot has unfortunately started making tea that tastes of fish. Well, I'm not sure if it's the teapot or the tea I'm putting in it. Will have to experiment to find out.

I'm paying to write this crap, because we've run out of free internet hours, due to my flatmate squandering them in gay chat rooms. He should have used them wisely, like me... No, don't look at me like that.

Actually, I've forgotten what I was going to say next.