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delirium happy

Just keep on trying till you run out of cake

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The various utilities of LiveJournal
delirium happy
Some people like to use LiveJournal to share their views with the word, to give themselves ansudience. Other people use it to document their dialy lives to look back on as a future record. Still others use it as a convenient system of getting information to many people in a quick and easy fashion. Yet more use it as an exercise in atrocious spelling, grammar and ill-conceived web tests (I point blank refuse to believe that these are real and not some form of concept art, ranking slightly below the mime artist). But me? I'm only in it for the comment notification emails. There's nothing quite like the thrill of getting an email in your inbox that you think actually might be worth reading. Yes, ladies and gentleman, my name is rho and I'm a comment whore.

And so, I was going to bed and I decided to make an entry so I could wake up to lots of shiny new comments. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of anything to actually write about, except for some small ammount of babble about how I'm a comment whore. So instead, I shall make a request. Send me an email. Of any length. About anything at all. Strictly for fun. To lighten up my day tomorrow, because I really am that sad.

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I'm always so bad at coming up with things to say on command like that.

Oh, me too, you know?

It's the pressure-to-perform thing. It's so ... draining. You just sit and stare at the blank screen and your mind goes just as blank.

Yes. gets me every time. Maybe that's why I really clam up at these things, no cool "I don't eed to be told to do these things, so I ain't gonna" philosophy... but who can say?

At least speculating about it leaves comments!

And it's distracting me from writing gloveporn!

Dare. I. Ask.

Why yes, I do.

What's gloveporn?

Unless you're writing about Michael Jackson - the only association that comes immediately to mind. Can't really see you doing that, though... well, maybe. ;)

Well, see, one of my characters has a psychic talent -- psychometry. It means that he can touch things and Know Things about them -- pick up the psychic residue on them. He wears silk gloves, constantly. 24/7. It keeps him from going insane -- imagine picking up a spoon and getting a sudden, absolute flash of the last person who held it.

They're in prison, and he's got this thing for the guy in the cell across from him. Mutual Thing. They haven't so much as touched yet, but they're driving each other nuts with the UST. Right now, they're playing mental chess via paper airplane (don't ask), and when Rufus gets the latest airplane, he goes to pick it up and open it -- and then stops, and slowly and deliberately strips off the gloves first, so that he can get the psychic impressions off the paper.

Only he does so as erotically as possible.

It's porn. But they never touch. They've got two sets of bars between them. But if I do it right, it's still going to be the hottest fucking thing in months :)

Wow. UST, baby. I go nuts for UST. Um... don't think about the fact I used "nuts" in that context, okay?

But man... sounds hot. And I can imagine what might happpen to someone so sensitive to psychic impressions in prison!

aper airplane chess - well, I've read/seen enough prison movies to know that in some prisons, you have to really want to communicate with someone.

So why'dyou wanna procrastinate writing it?

Here, have some of the previous UST posts between the two of them.


And I wanna procrastinate on writing it because it's not coming out as well as it could and I feel kinda silly about it :P

Awww... I know how that can go.

But, you have succeeded in intriguing me - I explored the community/website till my computer crashed last night (trying to tell me something, mmm?) and it looks wonderful and sexy and angsty and all those things I love... ;)

I wish you luck with the latest bit!

You just made my night...

I think this falls under the category of "If The X-Files had been aired on the Playboy channel."

http://www.livejournal.com/community/evilcrash/85271.html was the final result, if you're interested. Not as good as it could have been, but ah well :)

yes. which is why i HATE those "ask me anything" polls. it's like, uh, i dunno, what should i ask you about?

so I'm not good at leaving comments.
but since you are a comment whore and I am a comment pimp, we might get along quite nicely.

Comment pimp?

LOL... that just... makes me laugh. ;)

well.. y'know... everyone likes to get comments, where I'm the one more likely to dole them out...
or something....

Well, that's fair enough. But in the analogy, y'know, you got your john, you got your ho, and you got your pimp...

Hmm. It's late, and I'm too confused and sleepy to figure this all out right now.

But maybe you and rahaeli are the comment pimps, since I keep replying. So does that make me the john?

You're welcome to come pimp comments in my journal anytime.

Hehe. Yay comment pimps!

Well you know, were it anyone else, I'd ether ignore it completely or say, "I'm not a trained seal, y'know," but for you...

... I'll make an exception. Just to spite you. So there.


I'm a trained seal!

*barks and claps flippers and balances ball on nose*

I'm a trained seal too! I'm the greatest seal in North America! They even put my name on the dollar bill!

hello! I have an adam if you want him....

(Deleted comment)
not as good as rhobarb?

The Bagpipe Who Didn't Say No

It was nine o'clock at midnight at a quarter after three
When a turtle met a bagpipe on the shoreside by the sea,
and the turtle said, "my dearie,
may I sit with you? I'm weary."
and the bagpipe didn't say no.

Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "I have walked this lonely shore,
I have talked to waves and pebbles - but I've never loved before.
Will you marry me today, dear?
Is it "no" you're going to say, dear?"
But the bagpipe didn't say no.

Said the turtle to his darling, "Please excuse me if I stare,
but you have the plaidest skin, dear,
and you have the strangest hair.
If I begged you pretty please, love,
could I give you just one squeeze, love"?
And the bagpipe didn't say no.

Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "Ah, you love me. Then confess!
Let me whisper in your dainty ear and hold you to my chest."
And he cuddled her and teased her
and so lovingly he squeezed her.
And the bagpipe said "Aaooga."

Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "Did you honk or bray or neigh?
For 'Aaooga' when you're kissed is such a heartless thiing to say.
Is it that I have offended?
Is it that our love is ended?"
And the bagpipe didn't say no.

Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "Shall I leave you, darling wife?
Shall I waddle off to Woedom? Shall I crawl out of your life?
Shall I move, depart and go, dear -
Oh, I beg you tell me 'No,' dear!"
But the bagpipe didn't say no.

So the turtle crept off crying and he ne'er came back no more,
and he left the bagpipe lying on that smooth and sandy shore.
And some night when tide is low there,
just walk up and say "Hello, there,"
and politely ask the bagpipe if this story's really so.
I assure you, darling children, that the bagpipe won't say "No."

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