(no subject)

[boombangbing]

What the shit, Virgin 1, why are you stopping at 2x09 of TSCC until February when four more episodes are being aired in the US before the midseason break? What, we can't ~*possibly*~ catch up a little with America?

Absolute fail.

Comments

[twistdmentality.livejournal.com]

(I see how this goes. I pray that you don't get trampled and you pray that I don't burn down the building a la Meredith. But I really am feeling screwed over this Christmas. My Non can fucking cook like nothing else and she's denying me that this year. I'll take lumps and lumps of coal if it means I get one plate of my Non's cooking.

That was like the original fic I rooted for, wasn't it? And I didn't notice your icon at first so I had to scroll back up to the top to check and, holy crap, I never thought I would be so happy to be threatened by a gun and ball of electricity. How's it going?

And, I just dumped three large separate piles of clothes into one humongous pile and now I'm just sitting here. I'm hoping if I stare at it long enough that it will just disappear. Or form a monster and devour me. Either one works for me.)

[boombangbing.livejournal.com]

(It does sound like you're getting a little screwed over, yeah. Maybe Santa doesn't like incest and porn?

It is indeed the original fic, or least the pairing. It's... going, slowly. I'm just about the kill a bunch of people off, so I'm starting to get back into my comfort zone. I really want to post it tonight, but I don't know if I'll get it finished how I want it that quickly.

You could tie all your clothes together and use them to escape out of your window. That always works in cartoons.)

[twistdmentality.livejournal.com]

(Don't forget to add excessive cussing to the list. I really should be on the very bottom of Santa's list. Or maybe he can read my thoughts and knows I would shoot his fat ass if I caught him eating my cookies.

Ah, you and death. You two just go hand and hand, don't ya? And slowly is better than not at all. I'm just glad you're finally writing that sucker again.

Well in real life, I would be throwing my clothes into a pile of crap. Crap of the literal kind and junk that my Pops piles up on the side of the house.

I always do this though. It's a problem of mine. I'll get all pumped and determined to clean and my energy will sputter out right in the middle and my room gets stuck in this chaotic bubble of suckage. Or I'll waste all my energy creating a playlist to awkwardly groove to while I clean.)