BECAUSE THEY'RE ABOUT TO BE HELD.
Share one thing you’d like to accomplish before the end of the year.
I'd like to finish filling in the air bubbles and other casting imperfections on my Dark Eldar succubus.
But considering she has more holes than resin I'm guessing that's a pipe dream and she'll be prepared for priming somewhere around the end of 2012, when the world ends.
No, I kid. She's nearly done.
I hope.
Just some final checks on the one leg plate I had to entirely reconstruct and the one half of the fur thing she's wearing that I had to refinish because the massive release tab completely destroyed the detailing--
There's something suddenly ironic about the title Games Workshop has given this new casting method.
Finecast.
"Fine" Cast, more like.
One of the major boons of this casting method (supposedly) was figures wouldn't have a sand blasted look like metal figures do. Ignoring for the moment you could easily take some fine grade sandpaper or give it a nice Milliput coat to correct that, the finish on this succubus wasn't massively improved over the metal ones.
Before I used to think people were being fussy and whiny when they returned their Finecast figures to the store because they had imperfections. This is a fidgety and fussy hobby and you should be prepared for some minor corrections you have to make, I said.
Now I completely understand why they returned them. This really goes beyond the pale, and few people have the skills to fix the myriad problems of the typical Finecast figure.
Oh right, you didn't come to read my rantings about Finecast. It's not all bad, actually. It is far, far easier to convert Finecast than metal figures and at the end of the day the detailing (even if some of it is hideously gnarled by an inferior cast) is far greater than metal models so I guess I'll take the good with the bad.
I have to, actually.
to accomplish? I'd like to be married. Bear with me on this one.
Errr, you have 5 days to achieve that.
It is, I have to admit, perfectly achievable, especially if one is prepared to sacrifice 'quality' in order to achieve it.
"Perfectly achievable" implies it isn't hard to do.
You hunting any woman down to marry, Livejournal user, would be difficult.
(by quality, I of course mean quality of relationship, not quality of individual, should anyone percieve that to be in any way misogynistic.)
Wouldn't want to seem misogynistic.
Except there are inferior women as there are inferior men. Simply stating reality doesn't make you misogynistic.
Now, when you start saying shit like "all women are inherently inferior to men" then we can talk misogyny.
The reality is that, above consideration being observed, it won't happen. But this isn't about what will be achieved (I will, for example, have grown older, eaten more food, earned money) but what is desired.
I used to read sentences like this in pussy sensitivity and I crossed them out.
You're welcome, person who bought the book after me.
That says precisely dick.
It even has an air of condescension, doesn't it?
I WILL HAVE GROWN OLDER IN THE FUTURE.
No fucking kidding, dipshit. As opposed to all of us who are growing younger.
I've been on a rather messy road towards it for many years, as, unwittingly or otherwise, most of us have been or are.
I wrote a line a lot like this in a story recently.
Only when I wrote it was a lot more concise.
And didn't sound like whining.
And the guy who said it was a professional soldier so the road he walked was literally messy with bodies.
Okay so it was nothing like this but some of the words were similar.
There's still an indefinite length of road ahead of me, and the visibility is such that it's impossible to tell whether it's a smooth, open, tarmacked highway or a rutted path full of potholes and obstructions.
"We all walk towards oblivion."
But now, in contrast to previously, it feels like something that should be achieved. I am, as it were, ready for it, and rather like preparing a meal for guests who have been unavoidably detained, there's a sense of champing at the bit.
Then there was a heroic duel on a long-forgotten road leading to a castle that had, in all likelihood, already fallen to rubble nestled on a hill that was no longer significant to anyone.
The preparation of the meal has been done (the bashing around through life, the chaotic learning processes that enable us to function reasonably well as individuals in the world, the string of ill-starred relationships that hone one's ability to identify the partner most suited to us) and now it's sitting around and waiting for the second party to turn up so we can settle down and get 'stuck in', to employ an unsubtle and frivolous phrase.
What are you even talking about?
At least my story had fighting in it.
There's much to be done when they turn up before getting to the jumping-off-the-dock stage, and that's the next exciting bit.
The dock-- What?
There are far, far too many analogies drawn in this little paragraph of bullshit. We have the road (of life), cooking, a dock (of the bay)-- what is happening?
A different road, with better scenery, as it will be witnessed by two pairs of eyes, and therefor doubly rich- but the road is no less even or easy to travel than the first solitary expedition, and nor should it be- for what is the worth of a distant goal if it's a doddle to get there?
SOOOO you might say that you don't know where you're going
but you sure know where you've been?
Hanging on the promises
in the songs of yesterday
And I've made up your mind
you ain't wastin' no more time
Here I go again?
I won't be there by this time next year, depsite what Yahoo! News might urge to the contrary with their questionable suggestion that 2012 is the year to get married. I mean, honestly. But with quiet interest I'm watching the peripheral elements fall into place, and only the core element is missing. I asked for it for Christmas, but sadly the shops had sold out.
I hope they called the cops on you.
"I'm looking to buy a wife."
So you want to deal in human trafficking, eh?
God that was douchey and pretentious
and bad.
Here's a picture of his computer.
It has no case.
It's just a pile of parts--
and he has a bunch of leads going to a typewriter that he insists functions as his keyboard.
While I'm sure this works (in theory, I don't know if this one actually works) the wisdom of leaving exposed wiring like this just to have a keyboard that is 10,000 times less efficient than one that was designed for a computer because it looks marginally cooler might be questionable.
I would say "typewriters look cool" but considering the mangling of the case this whole thing just looks like a rat nest.
Some will no doubt remember the multiplicitous swearing that accompanied my attempts to get my Mac Mini online and operating in anything like a logical and helpful manner, not assisted by the fact that I refused to buy sensible Mac hardware (for 'sensible' read 'expensive'.)
>Buying a Mac
Also can we talk about your use of the word "multiplicitous" for a second?
A word Firefox doesn't even consider a word and frankly I don't either.
It literally means "giving rise to or resulting from multiplicity". Ignoring that the definitions tells you precisely fuck all what it means (we're coming to that) I question the use of a word that doesn't know whether it's causing something or being caused by something.
"Multiplicity" itself just means a great many (or great variety) of things.
Or, to put it even clearer, "a lot".
Having recieved an iPod Shuffle for Christmas, I decided to update iTunes, which in turn meant updating the ancient OS from 10.3.9 to 10.4.whatever. I managed to *borrow* a copy of 10.4.whatever, but with some trepidation as to whether or not it would muck up the rather homemade wireless settings that took me four months to establish first time around.
"trepidation", or "trembling fear", as we simpler folk say.
You spelled "received" wrong, incidentally.
You nailed trepidation but stumbled on receive.
MMMM MMMM.
Which is exactly what it did. And it would not go back online for love nor money. Which is the point at which i did A Daring Thing, and completely deleted the hard drive whilst booting from the disk, and then did a fresh installation. By gum, did that make a difference. It leapt online as soon as I'd uploaded the driver (the dongle driver for 10.4 and later seems to be far more helpful than the old 10.3.9 one) and, after one or two teething problems, I am now using it and online and gleefully trouble-free after about two hours, which is an improvement on four months, in my book.
As much of a douchebag as this cock is whenever someone says "Macs just work" I'm linking them to this entry.
If your best friend asked you OR your partner to help you conceive a child, would you consider it? How do you think it would affect your friendship and your relationship?
Man I miss all the hard-hitting writer's blocks.
So far, no-one has asked me to help conceive a child. I will assume for the purposes of argument that this isn't a commentary on my personal levels of hygene.
No, but I'm sure it is a commentary on the use of your genetics.
Also: hygiene.
I usually forgive the occasional typo or tricky word screw up but for someone with a douchebag vocabulary like you there will be no quarter.
Also, at the moment of going to press, I have no partner, so it's unlikely that any friend of mine would approach my partner with a view to helping to conceive a child. If they did, it might in fact be a beneficial and welcome development, as they could then let me know who my partner actually was.
Do you ever come to the point quickly?
Why do you take 17 extra sentences to make your point?
Is this supposed to be charming or witty?
Because it isn't. It's dull and you seem like you have your head so far up your own ass I imagine you have a girlfriend living with you that you've somehow forgotten about.
Now that seems like a pretty fair deal. If I did have a partner, I would hope that THEY would be my best friend, and I'd be more than happy to help them conceive a child. Once I've read the instruction manual, of course.
My current best friend (i.e. the title holder of 'Best Friend' until this child-producing unknown partner of mine is discovered- maybe a sub-categorisation of 'Best Friend' is required) already has a baby, in collaboration with his best friend and partner (one and the same, not some peculiar team effort.)
I've tried to read this three times and I can't manage it. The same safety mechanism that kept my brain from exploding during pussy sensitivity readings keeps triggering. I end up skimming and immediately forgetting what I just read.
The other threat is that, if I were to assist anyone in conceiving a baby, there would be an outside risk that said baby would end up in some measure like me, and no responsible adult would opt for that as an offspring.
See even this asshole admits he's an asshole and an evolutionary roundabout with no business reproducing.
Get it because "conceive" and "conceive of" have different meanings.
Personally, I can't see how anyone could struggle to conceive of a baby. The concept of a baby is a commonly held and simple one, and not difficult to grasp. However, for those who do find it difficult to conceive of a baby, I can offer a few pointers.
Man this shit is harsh.
"*username here* is a 98% match for you. You aren't a match for her because of this 'absolutely crucial' criterion: Drinking"
CONTACT HER
"*username here* has chosen not to recieve messages from people who don't match her 'absolutely crucial' criteria, so you can't message her."
Receive.
Buddy we've been over this. I before E except after C.
You won't talk to me because I don't drink? You stupid little girl...
You know who doesn't match my criteria for dating?
Stupid little girls.
Seriously man, think about this shit for a goddamn second before you post.
How the hell does that work? I could understand it if I had ticked 'rampant and perpetual drinker' on my profile- after all, a member might have had a bad experience with a heavy drinking partner or something. But to say 'I can't countenance anybody who chooses not to get rat-arsed' is quite simply pointless, and the attendant implication, 'you can't enjoy yourself unless you're pissed' is plainly puerile.
But it filtered you out, and you just used the words "countenance" and "puerile" in the same paragraph.
She's just some party slut. You're missing nothing by not being able to contact her. Trust me, my college campus was filled with literally hundreds of the pretentious twats who sit there filling my brain with fuck during the week and then whoring around during the weekend.
Mind you, I can't say I'm that disappointed to be unable to communicate with that particular member. "I've tried internet dating before, I wasn't ready for a relationship but I thought I was" smacks far too much of the immature emotional dysfunctionality that excuses anyone, apparently, from treating you like shit. It's a shame, but any tolerance of 'committment issues' that I may once have had has vapourised, leaving a curmudgeonly old-man like opinion that they should just grow up and accept responsibility, and stop whingeing and prancing around like spoilt pre-teenagers. Humph.
I can't believe you just told someone to stop prancing, because if ever a paragraph could be described as "prancing" it is the one above.
Also I don't think I've ever seen a blog contain this many "words that no spellcheck actually recognizes as a word" as this one, and I'm even discounting words that are spelled the British way.
First of all, when I last posted, I was about to go for lunch with a delightful young lady, who quite simply burst into my life and really shook things up. This young ladie's name is Bethanie, we are at present 'together', I'm glutinously and spoonily crazy about her, and every conversation we have seems to point even further, to me, to our being ideal for one another. She makes me, and I hope will continue to make me, extremely happy.
I'm glad she dumped you.
I feed off your misery.
In fact, your unhappiness keeps me youthful.
"If you have a disability you may apply under our guaranteed interview scheme. Contact us for details."
I beg your pardon? "Guaranteed interview scheme"?
Gamey leg. Got it in the war.
I'd lie constantly on job applications if I wasn't sure lying specifically about disabilities is a crime.
This is what's called Equal Opportunities. If you're disabled, you're guaranteed an interview, regardless of your aptitude. If you're highly skilled, but better with interviews than written promotion of yourself, you have very little chance of getting an interview.
Oh don't worry about it, mack, if they need someone with functioning limbs, Cripple McLandmine isn't getting the job. They just have to put on the lacquer of equality.
The only problem I have with the system is how the privileged, not the skilled, get an advantage.
The best should always rise to the top.
I really can't see how guaranteeing an interview on the grounds of disability is in any way representative of 'Equality'. Isn't it, in fact, underlining the difference and giving preferential treatment in order to appear to be treating everyone equally?
Unfortunately in pussy sensitivity there's a concept of "equity is equality" whereby ensuring everyone has the same chance often means some people have more of an advantage because the perception is it'll level the playing field.
It doesn't. It just makes my life more inconvenient.
Now, in fairness, none of them resemble Father Jack, Les Dawson, Barry Humphries, or anyone else representative of an Unattractive Look For Young Ladies. Most of them look quite pleasant, although one of them does look rather like someone wanted by the Allies for war crimes on the Eastern Front in 1943.
Sounds like the kind of woman I'd like to know. In fact, if I'm on an online dating site (for some reason) and my first thoughts about a woman are "she looks like she might be wanted for a war crime" my thought isn't finished before I'm responding to her email.
She's an architect, apparently, and sounds quite entertaining in truth of fact, but I can't get rid of the vague feeling that she might be Albert Speer in disguise.
Albert Speer, really?
Of all the Nazis you could think of, why does Albert Speer immediately leap to your mind?
Albert Speer didn't even commit a crime outside of "being a Nazi" such that the French, the Americans and the British were prepared to let him off but it was only by the Russians that he got a conviction when they (intelligently and rightly) said there is no such thing as an innocent Nazi.
He was chief architect and he was convicted of war crimes by some gas chamber plans that he designed.
Except he didn't remember designing any gas chambers and none of the plans bore his signature.
ALLEGEDLY. HE KNEW ALL ABOUT IT I'M SURE.
Also if she looks like Albert Speer I'm not responding. I was under the impression she just looked kind of crazy.
The biggest problem with Gnardiun Poleslates is that I appear to be cornering the market in women of approximately 34-39 years of age.
34-39. Desperation creeps in.
You could have it made, my friend.
Ok Ok, I'm not all that far off thirty myself- but I don't really want to be reminded of that, and hooking up with someone six years older than me lacks, broadly speaking, a certain appeal.
But hooking up with someone six years younger is perfectly okay.
In fact, it is perfectly okay. Just don't act like she's sick and horrible for doing exactly what you're doing.
Once again I'm thoroughly bewildered as to how these people find me, as I've put my preferred age range in me preferences, and matches are apparently calculated on this basis. A lot of the people peering at me throught he ether are, strangely, people whose profiles appeared in the immediate vicinity of someone I actually liked the look and sound of- these latter, naturally, have taken a quick peek and disappeared, I presume for some form of therapy.
You know what kills me about guys like this?
He probably had a thing for MILFs when he was in his teenage years, but now that he's getting up there ("getting up there" in quotes because if I read about another fucker freaking out about hitting 30 when you have 60 years in your miserable life yet to bother me with your inane ramblings on the internet I'm officially joining a monastery) suddenly anyone older than 30 is too old and he only goes for nubile, underage vagina.
Maybe I'm just a simple man with simple wisdom but this is clearly a case of the grass being greener.
Macs, contrary to popularly received wisdom, are NOT the way forward, unless of course, you happen to be in possession of an income roughly equivalent to the GDP of Sweden.
Considering all people moving society forward are using Windows systems (or Linux systems, I guess) I don't think anyone ever claimed Macs are the way forward considering the typical user is a self-entitled manchild sipping lattes at Starbucks whining about how the economy is keeping him from his career in gay porn.
What in God's name are they playing at? the thing isn't even that old. Say what you like about PCs, this old Dell is older than the Mini, and not once, NOT ONCE have I had any trouble fitting upgrades. Wireless, you name it, it comes on a board, I plug it in and it works. Not the Mac, that smug, greed-ridden, inoperative and apparently overblown and underspecified lump.
You just had a post about how you pried off a graphics processing chip and re-soldered it. Why are you buying off the shelf computers?
Ohhh man, I don't know anymore.
Anyway I'm going to go do stuff.
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