. . . and now must gush:
geez man wow hell damn. When I'm 64 is brilliant. THE BEST VID EVER. And I am including all her others, which run a close second. And the cowboy one? Hell, I didn't even realize we were actually watching a 70s porno all those years ago . . .
Seriously, it's like she creates a whole other world - I forget to remember what clips come from what episode because she is telling me an entirely different story.
Once I tried to do a vid, so I know how hard it actually is - well at least for me. The best thing about her vids, though, is that it inspires me to write . . .
now all I need is time and a little dwarf to grade the papers sitting on my dining room table. Oh, yeah, and someone to figure out a good and fun and exciting way to teach subject-verb agreement . . .
ta ra
Hope Vegas was a blast.
Will wait impatiently for report.
And now you are award-winning, I expect lots of stories and vids . . .
But the day is gorgeous. Cold. Colorful.
I think I can get used to this insanely early holiday . . .
Now what do I do in November?
Parents visited. Went swimmingly. Lots of pipe organs and HIGH MASS. Hutch was on her best behavior. You know how good Hutch is with parents . . .
Sprained ankle. Carting the 55 lb suitcase of the mother who packed an entire bag of "canadian apples" in her case. (side note - why are there no Jonathan Apples in Quebec? They are the BEST)
Caught a cold/fever/chill/cough . . . blah. And there are essays and journals languishing on my dining table, begging to be graded and all I can do is lie on the couch and watch HBO movies.
Thanksgiving head count: 11
Chairs in the condo: 6
Hutch will not allow either stovetop stuffing OR green bean casserole.
(side note - she did buy me a single serving of stovetop - just add water)
Got a the yummiest of yummy surprises this evening - Hutch brought home a bag from LUSH. OH Laura, Laura. Laura - I get it now!
Am in love with the soap and the soap and the rubbing bar that turns into body butter . . . laws.
And now it's time for Supernatural. So it's all good.
No spoiler, just a big sigh of relief. Loved the premiere. Love HL with the heat of a thousand suns . . . again. And the brilliance that is the casting of Andre "More badass than House" Braugher? Now if they would simply stir in a little Wilson love . . .
Seriously, the man is a craggy angel . . . I know, I know, waiting for big chunks of time to drop from the sky so I can write a damn crossover!
A big ol crackolustreousishisness Birthday wish for
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
lyricalsoul . . . trusted fellow, comrade, co-conspirator . . .
Crack to follow . . . xoxo
. . . for the birthday boy. Wrote it for LS. My partner-in-crack and trusted fellow. And because I can't let the day go by without a little Fry . . .
So it would seem our fair haired birthday boy is out of sorts due to a certain British bloke's sudden shrinkage - in the good way. Well, here, see for yourselves:
( Doesn't Anyone Pick up a G**D*** Phone Anymore??? )
I was under thirty when I ADORED the show.
Now I'm over thirty for the DVDs . . .
wonder if the angst will seem silly now I am SOOO OLD and MATURE???? I TOTALLY DOUBT IT. Man, did I ever love that Ellyn and Hope and MIchael and Elliot and the boss from hell, Miles . . . sigh. Hope I don't still have fashion from that era - oh who am I kidding? Of course I still have fashion from that era . . . and I use the term FASHION rather loosely . . .
That's all.
Plus I wanna write a little something, but I have no motivation - anyone have an idea, scenario, plan, that they want to donate? Something odd they would never write??
Now I'm off to get freezer bags for the $50 of wild blueberries Hutch and I fetched in NOrthern Ontario last weekend (HI VERLAINE!)
Say what you will about Canada, the country is full of fine fruits . . .
I owe her from a hundred years ago when she wanted a Starsky/Huggy drabble. And so it started out all dark and dirty and because it is the ides of July and because it is a glorious summer day, it turned out a little schmaltzy . . .
It's Starsky/Huggy, Starsky/Hutch. maybe a little Hutch/Sweet Alice . . .
Hope you like it SUE!!!!
( I Pity the Poor Fool . . . )
So after a bout of influenza and a visit to the states and days of everything BUT words on a page, including classes in a most irritating language (je suis fatique), I managed to peck out this little Hawkeye/BJ for the lyrically prose gifted Thayln, as per the meme of a thousand springs ago . . .
You know, hawk and bj always seemed to me to be the perfect slash boys. The circumstance of their friendship, Hawk's inherited from Alan Alda's emo tendencies, bj's underlying need to be needed . . . well, I am sure they tumbled together on many occasion. And I love them both for it . . . of course this ditty is but a pale attempt to capture some of that angst and desperation . . . hope it works.
We are Nowhere
Hawkeye/BJ
Slash
For Thayln
He comes to me at night. After endless hours of of sutures and sorrow, in the aftermath of another blood-smeared day. He waits outside Post-Op, leaning his long limbs just out of the light. I attempt levity, a quip, but he just drags me around the corner and shoves me against the wall, his hands making quick work of my protest. His lips search and destroy. Punish. I know it’s not me. It’s this place he’s trying to forget, leaving it behind in a trail of faint bruises on my flesh. I welcome him, wrap myself in his grief, exhale my own, and for a moment, we are nowhere. But then a tent door slams and he tears himself away, shoves a hand through his hair, and disappears back into the light. And I am left with nothing.
So I'm off trying to write a Hawkeye/BJ drabble forthayln . . . and a Starsky/Huggy one for
dipslikeramon . . . when of course the original boys (O'Brien and Rafferty to those in the know . . .) butt right in and force me to write a little snip ALL ABOUT THEM . . .
I'm starting to think they just like me to write them in the closet . . .
( Five Little Words . . . )
And after this regularly unscheduled break, I am back to Korea and The Pits . . . Swear!!!
This one is actually a triple drabble, cuz Bobby has a lot to say. Not really spoilerish, but taken from the mood of Bobby during the finale.
( Families . . . )
I just figured out this meme is HARD! Because it's fun to get requests, but then you actually have to WRITE THE DRABBLES!
So both Laura and MFFC requested some PMG/DS . . . and Laura sent me the link from long ago where Paul almost drooled over Davey after he sang on the Merv Griffin show in Vegas (as they were filming SH there) so I wrote two drabbles that relate to that time and to each other and to the ridiculously romantic (at least in my head) years of phone calls and rendevous and break ups and make ups. And they're both actually only 100 words (which I am starting to believe is HARDER than a novella).
( What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas . . . )
and the girl has flown to Toronto for the day and left me to my own devices . . . which is NEVER a good thing!
this comes from the lovely
thayln . . .The first five people who comment in this post get to request a drabble length fic (i.e., about 100 words) of any pairing/character of their choosing from me. In return, they have to post this in their journal.
I'll do anyone - SH, DS/PMG, House, NCIS, SPN, ST Next Gen, Partridge Family, MASH . . . I'd even try Pros - although I still can't tell them apart half the time!
So I was up in the middle of the night, contemplating the House finale, PMS, and the end of the world via SPN, and this came hurtling out through a very angsty Starsky, who can ruminate Hutch under a table if he really puts his mind to it. Which he did. This took forever. And it's still not right. Which, I think, is precisely Starsky's point . . .
( And you thought Hutch was the buzzkill . . . )
The new comm everyone on LJ is squawking about . . .
What?
Where?
Who?
When?
and most importantly . . . WHY???
Since it would seem that basically everyone who is on LJ is migrating to and fro . . .
I don't get it.
I am also a little cranky in a very happy way so . . . grains of salt will be provided . . .
p.s. I just left a gentle reminder honeydo message on the bathroom mirror in LIPSTICK!!! Kinda like Starsk on the window . . . so either she will think it's really funny and cute and I will get a big kiss OR . . . she will dig in her Capricorn heels and NEVER honeydo out of spite . . .
we shall see . . .
. . . because I was bored and I am tired of thinking of family things and school things and how do we carve out a future and what does that mean and blah blah blah blah . . . so I strapped on some nail scraping Hutch angst and had some fun. It's here at the meandthee drabble site. Which I hope maintains the goodness of the drabble form - which when done right (am bias, but ahem Susan) takes a hundred words and spreads them out into a thousand possibilities . . .
http://community.livejournal.com/me_and_
So, Hutch went out for a walk and I'm supposed to be getting ready to go to the market because we have to get Mahi Mahi and Easter eggs, but instead, Dean smacked me upside the head with some things he wanted to get off his chest. So
callistosh65 gets another little recuperative snip - the new boys now. I have to say I'm developing an unnatural love for all things Dean Winchester. Also, that I had to add Lillith, gank, and skank to my Word dictionary. Apparently, Microsoft has never watched Supernatural . . .It's untitled
It's Dean - waiting for Sammy - again.
Oh but I just realized it's also kinda sorta spoilery for season 4 . . . so you may not want to read it yet, Callisto!! But not so spoilery if you know there are ****** around . . . this live broadcast show love is hard!
( I have the urge to listen to some Steve Miller Band . . . )
So here's the rest. Get well soon,
callistosh65 or I'm going to have to dust off even more old chestnuts . . . or start some odd crossover with Dean and Sam and Sam Tyler and Starsky and Mulder and Bodie . . . ( wherein Huggy fixes everything . . . as usual )
