in your FACE space coyote!
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i live on a fault line and someday my house might fall down too. help haiti, you guys. i will write you at least 3000 words of the pairing of your choosing! any fandom i've written in before! you may provide prompts, though i guarantee nothing! it can be ridiculous! in fact, i highly encourage it. c'mon, let's light this motherfucker up. minimum bid's $10. but that's chump change! surely we can do better. (thanks ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) felixmackey for the head's up.)
daria_chagina, yes you may translate any of my stories you wish. i am honored! p.s. you might want to adjust your privacy settings so that people can send you private messages.
all right, i've just seen 'sherlock holmes.' did you guys know that robert downey jr (or rob dow, as the family parlance would name him) is and has ever been my favorite actor of all time? because this is true. i didn't want to be the first one to say that him and jude law are the gayest holmes and watson since house and wilson, so i'll let the new york times say it for me: "[Rachel McAdams] offers a little something for the ladies — who, according to airtight Hollywood corporate logic, are more likely to see a movie like this one if there’s a feisty woman in it — and also something for the lads, who, much as they may dig fights and explosions and guns and chases, also like girls. Just like Holmes and Watson! They really do, in spite of the barely sublimated physical passion they manifest for each other in nearly every scene." okay! let's get this fandom off the ground! who's with me!
sup y'all! christmas is here early this year. i blame the mayans. ( your biggest fan )
firstly, mad thanks to cuddlyscorpio, roque_clasique, superwicked, yasmine32068, girlmostlikely, and catdancerz, for the incredibly thoughtful virtual gifts! the gifts are virtual but the gratitude, it is concrete. y'all continue along the path of awesomeness. * and then, podfic. High Wire, Sam/Dean, rated R, 30:39 textFamous Ghosts of Texas, Sam/Dean, rated PG-13, 57:25 textsomething that will keep you warm, is the working theory. * we drove to seattle for thanksgiving because my wicked smart friend is in grad school for neuroscience up there (she is also the fiercest cook; we had a thompson turkey in all its glory), and driving back we stopped in ashland, oregon, for dinner. they have the shakespeare festival there and when i was in high school my theatre went up every spring for a long weekend. first boy i liked seriously who seriously liked me back, we got to know each other wandering the pretty little streets of ashland, the long park along the creek, the used bookstore where i bought my first edward gorey book, and found a william goldman i'd been looking for for several years. ashland is tiny and quaint and beautiful and not really my kind of place; i've been a city kid since i was old enough to take the train up to san francisco. i like jaywalking and sirens and tall buildings and walking under highway overpasses. i like the broken glass on the sidewalks. but that theme of escape, the idea of running, i think if i ever actually pulled it off i'd end up in the hills of southern oregon. it's a strange thing to think.
thanks, lazaria91, for reminding me that i used to write the o.c. have some podfics! American Myth mp3, Sam/Dean, 1:11:39 textSmart mp3, Seth/Ryan, 12:09 textCool mp3, Seth/Ryan, 7:23 text* at the mountain goats show last night, john darnielle left the middle part of the set largely open to request (because, as he mentioned more than once, he loves us), and when someone called for 'attention all pickpockets' he said, "i don't think i remember it," but gamely gave it a shot, until the second verse when he faltered, and then, from the crowd, from this kid right here: candle: "there i go!" darnielle: "yes, good, feed it to me!" candle: "not the same person that you used to know!" darnielle: *ROCKS THE FUCK OUT* oh my life. i need to find someone who recorded that show (he was raggin on the kids filming up front, "just get into one song, let me see your eyes instead of the lens!") and play that little bit on a loop for the rest of my life. my love for that guy, it knows no bounds. no bounds at all!
oh TIMOTHYas my buddy said, "wow, it's the least surprising athlete bust ever." and i said, "until zito walks up to a cop on the street smoking a blunt and asks where he got such a shiny badge." hee, every time i say i won't let zito hook up with lincecum, timmy is all, BUT WAIT WE ARE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER. indeed, tim, you've made your point. you and zito can have clumsy stoned sex all winter, and i'll see you in the spring. * boo yankees. i wore my black giants shirt today in mourning. aaron said, "is eight years of the bush administration a fair trade for eight years without the yankees winning a title?" and i said, "DO NOT ASK ME IMPOSSIBLE QUESTIONS." then he said, "obama or the giants getting a ring?" and i said, "aaaghh meep," and i could not answer. saying goodbye to jon miller for the off-season hurts in the heart area. the radio won't speak of the AM dial until spring training. dreaming about phoenix only works for people who can remember their dreams. * at the census today i was asking potential applicants about their language skills and one dude thought it appropriate to tell me, "well, i don't speak any other languages fluently, but i can generally get the orientals and mexicans to understand with, you know, sign language and some of the words are the same, so." and i said, "wow, that's interesting. maybe we'll call you about a job next year," and then promptly took him off the call list for being a totally clueless asshole. "orientals and mexicans." jesus. six months to census day. i am so well-liked in this office it is kinda crazy. my supervisor apologized to me before saying i probably shouldn't do crossword puzzles while waiting to leave messages on people's machines. i said, "but i finish more calls than anyone else in a day," and he said, "yeah i know. it just. it looks bad?" and i said, "sure boss." then we ate some halloween candy. * life, you are pleasing me at the moment. i forgive you for the yankee thing.
i have such high hopes all the time. no hole is too deep! no deficit is insurmountable! i saw a ten-run comeback a few months ago, i can testify to it. there is no clock on this thing, and soon enough no brakes either. that's mostly apropos of nothing, but anyway, i was supposed to write beatles!fic (which is still happening goddamn it--stuart sutcliffe and speed pills in the bathrooms of german clubs in the late fifties (back when they wore ALL LEATHER), brian epstein and the madness of america and then being stoned for most of 1965, and then the acid--my brain might break, GRANTED), and also supernatural fic based on spooky country songs (the best kind!), which is also happening, but that is future-talk. for present-talk, i have the latest and (it freakin' better be) the last installment in the alternate universe that will not die. goddamn you teenage fuck-ups and your ingratiating ways! it's 38564 words. it's a prequel that stands alone. at long last, it's eric chavez's side of the story. ( largely misguided efforts punctuated by moments of searing clarity and righteous action )
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