1. O HAI Shia-as-Pepper-Potts-on-a-motorcycle! ROWR.

2. I don't know what I did to deserve this, but I would do it again. Look at their stupid little faces! Cuddling! CUTE EXPLOSION EMINENT.

3. Guys. GUYS. Dethklok is playing Calgary on October 6. I know it's the RL creators, but I don't even care. I want to go. But is a death metal concert really something one wants to attend alone? Is it maybe more brutal to do so? I think I would be too consumed with needless self-consciousness whilst mopping against the wall. At least there is no question as to what to wear. Black.

MORE MILK IN THE FACE CARE OF THAT ZQMF.

Guess what guys? subterrain has done it again. She took my depraved fantasy of McCoy/Chekov and made it into a delicious restaurant-AU reality! And it's super long and insightful and full of beautiful food and restaurant logistical descriptions. Check out part one here:

What you eat by subterrain

Ah, it's masterful. And expect more today! She's sitting 1 m away madly typing more of it as I in turn type this. In fact, I am surrounded by talent right now! estei completes the triumvirate to my right, blasting through the Liquor series by Poppy Z. Brite like a fist through a prolapsed anus. She's being prepped for October, when she moves into the Kitty Kondo with me and takes residence in the Recycling Room, aka, my spare bedroom. Which currently holds my recycling. Better get on that shit.

This is a good into to the summary of my life since the last time I posted, roughly 1 trillion years ago.

1. My birthday was on Friday - I am old. But it was worth it, since I got a barrage of wicked birthday loot, including but not limited to fetishized cooking implements, gear for my bicyclette, The Venture Bros. soundtrack, which has taken up residence in my car, and the above mentioned story of hotness and mouth goodness.

2. estei apparently lives in Calgary! She is also apparently awesome! We met coincidentally at a party about a month ago and eventually decided it would be best if we lived together and talked about boys kissing exclusively. There will also be nail-painting parties, late night gossip sessions and pillow fights in weather-inappropriate sleep wear that devolve (evolve?) into filmed make-out sessions.

3. I really like my job; it keeps me busy and entertained. This is an anomaly and I'm having issues finding my RL/Online balance. But I'm not worried. Fandom, as we all know, is cyclical.

4. I now have three cats. They like to cuddle. Top to bottom: Mason, Bruno, Rudy. I love them more than life itself and they provide me with daily joy, love and fulfillment. And hilarious anecdotes! Which I do my best to repress around other people. You're welcome, social circle.

subterrain: Where was the Fred Durst/Chester Bennington?

01. Okay, seriously. Why is there no solid, logical explanation for everyone fucking off to this Dreamwidth thing? I only like change when I initiate it. I think it's just Russia discrimination at work. ETA: FUCK THE RUSSIANS

02. New job continues to be only mildly challenging and therefore excellent. I was invited to a strategy meeting today because apparently I have "fresh perspectives." Me = :D Only half of the nerds I work under believe I can do more than answer the phones, but that's perfect. I get just enough project management to keep the day from dragging and very little accountability. Yeeees, yes.

03. In an effort to be dynamic and to promote creative chaos, there are no job titles or descriptions at my new work. It's tough for the new guy, but I can see how it works. Or how well it works in theory. You really need everyone to have an accommodating and enthusiastic attitude to realise the true vision. This is pretty much impossible. Anyways, no one has an office and there are no cubicles either. Just a big open space with modular desks. So, technically, I don't have bosses. I have colleagues and teammates. But realistically, I do have bosses. I have four of them. And because I can't refer to them as the "Executive" I have to list them all. often I just use their initials. WHICH COMPOSE THE ACRONYM B/D/S/M. It gets me EVERY TIME. YES.

04. I've dropped the ball on my big bang. There is no way I will be finished in time. I still want to finish the story, but right now I'm all distracted by two others I have on the go. I am in a position where this will break no one's heart, so I'm not worried. I continue to enjoy my pokey little stories about vampires and anti-gay teen boot camps and pot growing. I love my life.

List format! I can get behind that shit and love it real good!

01. I am eating my own poor attempt at Eggplant Bartha, fucking food of the gods. It's not the same as the fancy Indian place I would live at if I could, but it's pretty good. I'd take a pass on the whole grain basmati. Sorry bowels, it's white or nothing from now on.

02. Rec! A Throat-Pierced Sound In The Night by jocondite. Jon/Ryan hitchhiker AU. But not in a creepy way. In an awesome, haunting, beautifully written way.

03. Severed head cat toys. My boys would go nuts for these because they are morbid and dark humour like me.

04. I think someone on my flist already posted this link, but I am going to share the wealth: Dinosaurs Fucking Robots. A showcase where artists and comedians can come together and make pictures of... dinosaurs fucking robots... with inspirational phrases. Just, YES. Nothing pulls me out of a funk faster.

01. Saw I Love You, Man last night. YES. Hilarious. And offensive. Hilariously offensive? Was the second-most obnoxiously loud laugher in the theatre, and I was sitting beside #1. Good times had by all.

02. I walked directly behind a boy shaped like Spencer Smith the other day. Not as attractive in RL? The man had shapes. And the shapes, they were round. Whatever the case, definitely wearing girl jeans and I APPROVE.

03. If the coolest pub in the city has open mic during the day, hipsters will make a point to bring their newly de-wombed offspring. And it's not like the lit'lins are disruptive or unwelcome. Hells, I love me some babies to play with. 100% more interesting than talking to their parents who only actually talk about said child. Or themselves. Or owning property, which completes the triumvirate. Themselves, the offspring they have sprung, and the place where they are going to ruin their offspring.

Man, I could rant about this for ages. Out of all the parents I know, maybe two couples aren't going to end up raising a resentful, shriveled mass of emotional scar tissue. My point is, hipsters who bring their babies to pubs aren't doing so because they can't get a babysitter. They are doing it to validate their late-twenties baby-making status. So, like, for attention. It's just annoying. I swore to subterrain, as we were splashed by waves of so much nuclear[family] waste, that I would blog my indignation.

She responded in a conspiratorial whisper, "Like, a real blog, or you know what?"

Me, wide-eyed, "YOU KNOW WHAT." And then we plotted more of her bandom big bang, right there in the pub, in code, surrounded by normies. This is why I heart subterrain so very much. Life would be insufferable amongst the normies if I didn't have her, holy god. Except when she teases me with taboo Watchmen porn. BITCH.

So here I am, updating you know what, with nothing more than embittered complaints. Which brings me to my next fun fact:

04. Online dating: don't believe the hype. I dated this dude for like, a week. It didn't work out. I don't really blame the online dating process, but I need to blame something and it's not going to be my inadequacies as a desirable human being. On to round two, coffee on Monday night with a dude who looks like Patrick Stump and is a youth councelor. I think I've read that AU. BUT IT WASN'T HET AND THERE WAS A LOT OF INAPPROPRIATE TOUCHING.

05. I am a baby's sleepy sigh away from a new career in literal nerd-herding. Aka, office manager for a software development company. I haven't gotten an official offer yet, but I made it through three interviews and a tour of the facilities. It'll be exciting and challenging and the company is super cool and every time I think about it I hyperventilate. Wish me luck, peeps.

Title: Smiting the Day (~7,000 words)
Author: delighter
Fandom: Panic at the Disco (a Vampire Chronicles AU)
Pairing: Spencer/Brendon & Jon/Ryan
Summary: Spencer and Ryan reunite after a century apart. Brendon is not impressed.
Rating: NC-17
Notes: You don't need to be familiar with The Vampire Chronicles to get this. Vampires! A trillion thanks to subterrain for her invaluable, considerate guidance, and her mad beta skillz. Also, for not laughing at me. :D

( He's coming tonight. )

Someone just posted ( this ) on patdfullsized and all I could think was LIBRARY BOYFRIENDS! JON LOVES HIM LIKE MAD!

1. We had a management meeting yesterday in which I had to address some ~safety issues, and I thought it would be cute and subtle to play the first 5 min of the new Office to usher my Dwight-like safety lecture. I won't spoil, but it's applicable, especially since it's a poorly kept office sneering-behind-the-hand secret that our boss is a female Michael Scott. We invited the practicum students in to watch The Office too, because I'm nice like that. I would like to think I am the Jim of our office, but it is more likely that I am the Andy Bernard. It's the deluded sense of self-worth and the sweater vests. Tragic.

Anyways, I rolled the clip, and everyone had a good knee-slap, and the management team all shared shifty-eyed snickers, but then one of the students piped up, "Was that an allegory?" all proud of herself for using big words. Fortunately, this didn't breach the long droning tone that resides in my boss's head in place of a brain, but jesus. GODDAMN FUCKING PERPETUAL STUDENTS. GET REAL JOBS. QUIT RUINING MY FUN.

2. I wore contacts today and smokey, whoreish eye-makeup.

3. High Quality Material by subterrain: a Jon/Brendon Library AU of preciousness. GUYS. Guys: Brendon is the Children's Librarian. Spencer Smith sports a cardigan. Just, go. Go now.

Baked (No Half About It) by make___graves: Spencer/Brendon, Jon/Ryan Stoner AU. You know that stoner AU I wanted to write for bigbang? It's been done, and it's fucking awesome.

( rl happenings :/ )

There is more important shit going down than the crumbling foundations of my career. Namely, the fact that I totes signed up for bandombigbang. IT'S GOING TO BE EPIC. Mostly because I am more of an idea man when it comes to fic and much less of a follow-through-with-a-coherent-story man. BUT! I have been writing a badficerific CSI/Panic at the Disco crossover since like, September and it is already 20K and will probably far exceed that word count if I continue. So that is my back-up. However, I am falling out of love with its ridic premise and might go with one of these options:

• Heist!Fic, in where they knock over a casino. Cliche, but it works for me. Brendon is the go-to guy, Ryan is the continental man, Spencer is the tech guy and Jon is the driver. I'd be hard pressed to choose a pairing, so they'd probably all be doing it. Someone would be screwed, literally and figuratively. YES.
  
• Since apparently everyone is fucking off to LA, I think that a Pineapple Express/Weeds-esque au is in order. I am sure this has been done, but I am envisioning some Jon as a low-level pot pusher, Brendon his hot yet flaky boyfriend, Spencer as an intense yet genius grower and Ryan as the mob-boss's son. I might need to get stoned and ruminate on this one. But admit it: brilliant.
  
• Mpreg. Obvs.

Feel free to leave me some feedback in comments, all three of you whom this might be of interest to. Whatever the case, my story will suck hippo ass in comparison to the epic that subterrain is penning. OH, THAT'S RIGHT. subterrain TOTALLY SIGNED UP FOR THE BANDOM BIG BANG. I don't even have to allude to the RL squealing I did when she finally acquiesced, because you probably heard it. Anyways, I won't give anything away, but know this: IT'S GOING TO BE AMAZING. I've seen the three-page outline. You will laugh, weep, squirm and cheer.

\o/

Man, I have been drinking a lot of smoothies lately. To the point where I coo the word 'smoovie' when talking about my dinner and leave a little wet spot on my seat when I get hungry. I hope I never out-smoovie myself. D: In the mean time, let me show to you one of my favourite smoovies:

( Perfectly Proportioned Fruit Smoothie for One )

I need to get a roommate. :/ I have a (relative) tonne of room in my place that I can make a little coin off of and having a witness to my filth-wallowing makes me pick up the place once in a while. However, the process of dividing my home and cleaning and posting to craigslist, etc and then working out rent and contracts and shit is SO DAUNTING. But the longer I wait, the more interest I am paying on my credit card, so it's time to nut-up. I wish there was some kind of fandom call-out I could make. It would look like this:

Single cat-loving female looking for single cat-loving female to share a 2-bdrm, 2-bthrm condo on the Beltline. Must be clean, quiet, vegetarian, non-smoker, social-drinker, music-lover, deviant, perverted, non-judgmental, and into boys who kiss. Must enjoy long hours of mutual internet trolling and respond enthusiastically to any and all epic AU epiphanies. Must anticipate and plan accordingly: late-night slurpee runs, greasy hangover breakfasts and weekend cupcake hunts. Must prefer to watch TV by waiting for the box set and then marathoning whole seasons. Supernatural fans need not apply. Alternatively, can be a cute gay dude who is not a slut. Available immediately.

Man, I have like, 23 tabs of Yuletide stories to work my way through. It is going to be a sweet Boxing Day of pyjamas and eggnog and not leaving my house for anything. Christmas this year kind of blows due to family ~issues, but we haven't fought once and have collectively plowed our way through three bottles of wine, two bottles of champagne and a 2-4 of spiced rum. Between five people. So. Could be a lot worse!

And I already have a Yulerec! The Zombified Corpse of Christmas Present (Venture Bros.)

So in-character and sweet, it has all my very favourite VBers and mourning for 24. And it totally reflects the ( Xmas card Jackson Publick posted. WEEP. )

Hope everyone is having a decent holiday! Back to peeling potatoes and silent longing for gravy. :/

ETA: I know it should be impossible, but I just popped a boner. Ryan Gosling recording burlesque piano moaning with a room full of kids. Sign me the fuck up. Hey, what's that sound? Is that a string quartet AU I hear?

1. Uggg, was so sick on Saturday. Full on flu the likes I haven't had in years. It was one of those weeping, puking flus that leaves you feeling trampled and dirty and weak and achy. Sort of like Jonascest.

2. It's been a shitty weekend all around, saved only by the good company I keep. Plans to loll about in the mountains and gorge on internetz and warm stews were aborted due to the timely yet reliable fuckupery of my family. :/// Saw The Day the Earth Stood Still, which is laughably terrible, only redeemable for the slashibility of its supporting cast. Donald Draper/Hot Coach from FNL, over here pls. Went to Jingle Bell Rock on Thursday and fully intended to see Sebastian Grainger but missed him while drinking in the University bar, then gossiped and drank in the beer gardens for the whole of The Dears and half of Tokyo Police Club, and walked out on Metric because they were so mind-numbingly boring. Still had a good time because going to deliciously teen-riddled places like concerts and shopping malls and movie theatres with owench is like being in a rock star's entourage. Or, a high school drama teacher's entourage, which is apparently the same thing. The hottest 17-year-old I've ever laid eyes on actually snuck into the beer gardens just to say he drank a beer with Mr. owench. Don't worry, I'm hitting myself and yelling 'impure! impure!' as I write this. Totally.

3. Random bandom-related question that I should probably post to a comm but I'm just going to shout it into the dead space of my journal: ( How does Frank from MCR do his cool magenta eye-makeup? Let's oogle some photos for reference. )

4. In other news, my ass is swelling due to the offensive amount of Christmas goodies in our office. True, I brought in sugar cookies to aggravate the situation, but man, how many boxes of chocolate and baskets of gourmet holiday non-perishables does one organization need? ( I took a long shot of just some of the booty. Also, witness my extreme racism! )

*Let's take a break and dwell upon the only redeeming character in Spiderman III. Harry Osborn. More specifically, the svelte and winky actor who plays him, James Franco. He is a big homo for Seth Rogan. It's been documented. By this girl. ( Also, Paige found this photo of him shaving his armpits. Let me show you it. )

Ross spends the majority of the "Downpour" video dressed like an attendee at the Memphis Insurance Adjusters' 1973 Winter Conference. djsahflks HA. That's some fine reviewing, MTV. I share a similar grudging love for the Northern Downpour video. I've never been terribly in love with the song - it's ho-hum - but I do like the lyrics and I think the vid is a great visual representation of them. Check, approved.

Also, not terribly in love with Ryan Ross's vocals. The guy just has no strength, no passion, it IS like listening to an insurance adjuster sing. Especially compared to the powerhouse that is Brendon Urie. Ryan is like the Issac to Brendon's Taylor Hanson. GET BEHIND THE GUITAR AND STAY THERE.

Wow, the freedom to bitch about this shit is liberating. Speaking of, I guess I should issue some sort of hat-eating for badmouthing bandom for so long. I still really hate it, I would even venture to say that it has worse participants than the SPN fandom, but hey, I do love me some svelte, fashion-challenged boys in love. Panic at the Disco definitely qualify.

I ordered their special edition live DVD last week and eagerly await its arrival because I am surrounded by spoilers. I only eagerly await two things more: my xmas Sephora order and the return of subterrain to the west. She is coming home in like, three days, WHAT. And for good! No more skulking off to the east for grad school, no more working in the mountains. Here. In the city, at my mercy!

Maybe our fandom interests will stop diverging so erratically. I hope so. I've given up hope of you hopping the PatD train, but I would be willing to board the hobo coach of the MCR train to help you get your feet wet, friend. When it comes to deviancy, the more the dirtier. At least we'll always have Spectrum. Let's go frolic(k)!

A friend recently said to me, clearly and logically, "Remember, it's your journal. Post what you want."

Sage advice, and apparently much needed. I hardly ever think about posting anymore because I think, what's the point? I've nothing of interest to say. That remains the case, but by jove, imma post anyway.

Said wise friend is trickpie, who I just adventured with in the UK for two weeks. It was crazy and insane and fucking awesome. We traipsed around the south of England and Wales, meeting many new peeps and laying our hot asses on many a worn hostel linen. We saw The Mighty Boosh live in concert seven times. (trickpie 13 times in total, HARDCORE.) Once for free! You may not know this, but trickpie basically wins at life and stole not only my heart, but the heart of one charming bouncer in Brighton named Tosh. A bat of an eyelash and she had three of us in for free. She also won us tickets to the front of the line for a Mighty Boosh book signing. I WAS ONE FOOT AWAY FROM NOEL FIELDING'S BLOODSHOT EYES. WIN WIN WIN. Her animal magnetism is so strong that she pulled Julian Barratt like a fucking salmon up a waterfall; he stalked us outside of clubs and he even arranged an accidental meeting on a random train platform in Southhampton. I know, right?

A trip of a lifetime, and I wish I could see the show again. Alas, I'll have to wait for the DVD. :/ Ngggg, pictures maybe forthcoming. Posting is tough enough, and now you want me to upload photos? Cripes.

( WAIT! One photo stoled from trickpie. )

Back home now, and without my epic trip to fixate on, I find myself at a bit of a loss. Work is...nnnggg, good. I hate to say. It was nice to come back and be desperately needed. I want to quit. I do. But the 2009 conference is rolling and it's got me all excited and I really, really love my job sometimes. Just, I want to punch-fist my boss in the mouth. Okay, must be strong. Hacking it.

Life is more than your day job, right? D:

Yeah, hi journal. You are so neglected! I cut off my internet at home about two months ago in an attempt to clean up my life, but so far I just waste the time I would usually squander on fanfiction with reading actual fiction. Truth: I think I like fanfiction better than like, legitimate fiction. D: Well, I should maybe clarify that statement: I like ridiculously long, often terrible, plotty AUs better than I like the plots of actual books. And it's not just because of the man kissing and boyband love. I've come to appreciate author's notes and pairing warnings. I like headers and internal links and DVD commentaries. I sincerely enjoy the safe interpretations of canon and the predictable romance-based plots and I've found that most fanfiction embraces a recognizable and simple dialogue structure that is often bucked by professional authors in favour of more like, "artsy" writing that leaves too much room for confusion unless you're super invested in a story. Or if you're reading it for the second time.

What the hell happened? I used to love books. I would rip into 1000 page epics and mourn that they weren't longer. There was so much character love and rampant self-insertion. Teehee. :/

( Other life updates, and my love for Mad Men. )

take a picture of yourself, right now.
don't change your clothes, don't fix your hair, just take a picture.
post that picture with no editing~~~~ and post these instructions with it


( At work. HATE. )