Stop posting plz

I only read the first post of this but I know it'll be good.

All right, now that we've sufficiently established that I was home with an ear infection the day they covered "use your words" in kindergarten: DOES anyone know any useful strategies for coping with genderswap AUs involving six million metric fucktons of knock-on changes?

Specifically, the part where I don't know which metric fuckton I am currently failing to comprehend, but I know there is one, because I'm completely at a loss for which direction to go in?

 AUs what?
What the fuck are you talking about?
After much searching and outright guess work (Acronym Finder was no help) I figured out it means "alternate universe".
So thanks for that one.
A gender swap AU. The only AU I want to visit is the one where I have the power to telekinetically punch people in the mouths through the internet.
Unless there's an AU where I'm banging all the members of Girl's Generation. In which case I want to live in that one.

True or false: repetitive, vociferous, ongoing wailing and gnashing of teeth about being completely infuckingcapable of working out a writing problem the size of Cincinnati is a clear and unambiguous signal that one really, really, really needs someone to ask what the difficulty is and thereby force one to talk it out one piece at a time.

Which one cannot do inside one's head because one can't see where the logical gaps are, or in fact think very clearly about any one aspect, without breaking it down piece-by-piece and explaining it.

Or have I managed to be at a 90-degree angle to normal human communication again?

Shut the fuck up. Jesus.
I really hate it when people try to act really zany and genius at the same time.
Like all right I get it you're fucking Einstein with fanfiction.
And that'll launch into a totally awesome career as a real writer because you can just publish Dr. Who gay sex fanfic with no legal troubles.

/sighs.

For reasons I can't quite pin down, my sense of identity has gone weird lately.

I mean, it's to the point where I'm only really sure about things like "I hate eggplant," "I like Matthew Good Band," and "I cry at the end of 'Fire Watch.'" (Which doesn't even count, because that's what the end of "Fire Watch" is for.)

That is simply not enough to form the foundation of a coherent identity.

Being a cunt seems to be a strong recurring theme.
Maybe that's the foundation of your personality.

1. I have realized why all the good smut in historical fiction is either m/m or Early Sarah Waters: pre-1960 birth control is the least erotic thing imaginable. OMG. /cries.

I'd tell you lot to slap me if I ever got into writing heterosexual sex in a fandom where that's an issue ever again, but let's face it: Peaky Blinders starts a week from today. Helen McCrory is in it. That would be a lot of slapping, to no purpose at all.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

2. New!store manager is showing every sign of being a sugar-cube counter of the first water. Because of this, and because he is also large, red-faced, and kind of confused-looking, he will hereinafter be known in these parts as Fred.

The assistant store manager will be known hereinafter as The Smiler.

Other cast members may include scatty!manager, shark!manager

Oh we're doing that thing with the exclamation points.
I remember one post I made a long time ago (the first time I saw that annoying shit) where I proposed that was a grammatical one off unique to that blog alone.
Man I wish I was right.

For the ten billionth time, I'm resolving to try and post more often about things that do not suck.

Well time to wipe this blog out because--
well--

I wrote 438 words tonight and I hate them all. No metric post; I don't deserve one.

SO DEEP

what the fuck is a metric post?

I've been doing this shit for half a decade now and I have no fucking idea what a metric post is.

 Oh thank god.

The S1 and S2-equivalents in girl!Freddie universe are different enough from each other to be two different stories. Or at least one really long one with enough of a split down the middle that I can write it in two parts.

You have no. idea. how much this simplifies things.

Do you ever just write about shit?
Like hey how are you doing
fine I went to work today kinda shit?
or does everything have to be this complicated shit with terms I don't understand and I'm not entirely convinced actually mean anything?

Dear God. I think I've actually forgotten how to write comedy.

Implying what?
You knew how to write comedy in the first fucking place?

Can you almost hear how douchey she sounds with those italics?
Like I just hear the worst white wahm voice ever in my head thanks to it.

Comment with a fic idea you don't think I would write, and I'll tell you how I would write it if I were going to.

Comments: 1.

Who in the fuck is that much of a masochist?

No no, let's be fair.

Maybe it's a comment telling her to fuck off.

Bel/Hector fluff in which none of the other four are even peripherally involved.

What the fuuuuuuuuuck

 On that note I'm going to bed.

I GOT SHIT TO DO.

Don't be sorry

Jesus Christ updating schedule all fucked up due to moving out and work and I don't even know what day it is anymore.
I'll get back on schedule.
Someone added this comment on the 3rd of this month (of this year):

In the alternate universe where Buddy Holly ended up the day the music died, the Crickets were better than the Beatles. I'm not sorry.

On an entry four years old so someone is digging through the archive.
The Scroll of Honor
The Lion Censorum.
 Anyway you don't gotta be sorry like that.
Everyone with any sense knows what The Beatles did for music would have happened anyway and they were just right place at the right time.
I like The Beatles, too, but goddamn people need to get over it.
Anyway fucking this person.

There really isn't much of anything better I can do to make myself feel as feminine as possible than for me to go to the gym and throw my body weight around. I mean that - I can clean and jerk a little more than half my bodyweight, snatch just under half, squat it, and deadlift slightly more. Pretty much anything I do that involves me picking up something heavy and moving it around leaves me tired, sweaty, and feeling like a duchess. It's something I'm actively trying to cultivate, especially on powerlifting days.

Are these words arranged in a coherent thought?
Makes you feel like a duchess, what?
What the fuck are you talking about?

I know a decent chunk of why is because it's pretty common for me to look around and realize I'm the only girl around - lifting freeweights, using a squat platform, on this whole floor of the gym. When I'm outnumbered like that, it's hard to forget about things like gender.

Literally no one is paying attention.

The simple proximity of finishing Bioshock and then going onto read some of the Vorkosigan saga made me realize two things: Jackson’s Whole is basically a planet-sized Rapture, and even though a crossover would be easy enough to pull off and amazing and fabulous and work to comment on aspects of both canons simultaneously, I don’t have the time right now.

Original thoughts?
HUH HUH NOPE NOT ME.

 One of the few side benefits of getting sick - again - is that it lessens any other bad news I get. Like not getting the job for which I interviewed last week. I'd mind more if I could breathe properly, or if I hadn't gotten almost nine hours of sleep last night. It's a bit of a protective cocoon. Much as I'd have loved the work, and much as I deeply hoped for it - it's hard to be torn up or deeply disappointed. At least I have that going for me today.

Jesus Christ.
I guess being sick does one thing for me--
SHELTERS ME FROM THE PAIN OF DISAPPOINTMENT ;_;
like fuck off seriously what's wrong with you?

Yesterday, as soon as I got back from the job interview, I placed an order at Adagio Tea. It'll arrive tomorrow, but I won't open it until after I hear about the end results of the interview.

I'd like to open it in celebration. If I have to open it in compensation, well, there's tea inside. And I'll make myself a cup, and resolve to keep going until I get to where I'd like to be.

Is there a douchier way to make a statement of resolve ever?
I mean goddamn.
Failing a mission in Dawn of War 2-- a video game-- has way more gravity than what you just wrote.
I'll just make tea and resolve myself to HURRRRR dry your cunt, Jesus.
In Dawn of War 2 you fail a mission and it says shit like YOUR BROTHERS DIE
SEE THAT THEIR DEATH IS NOT IN VAIN and you say "oh right then gotta step up my game then. Thanks, Space Marines."

It's one of the rules of the universe that any day with bread in it is a day well spent. Last night, and the three before that, didn't involve any good sleep - last night did, but only after getting back up after lying there for almost forty minutes, spending some more time online, and sleeping in until ten, which in turn resulted in me not getting anything of value done until three. Going to the gym, and sending in a few applications, only went so far to make me think I'd done something with my day.

Hence, the bread. And by all measures, it's going to be good.

I need go get back to writing something soon, as well. Long-term projects are good for helping me stay on my feet and moving forward.

Hence, a book request.

HENCE A SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU BELLIGERENT CUNT.
Jesus Christ did you read that shit?
What the fuck was that about?
Oh a day with bread is a day well spent oh I'm so deep and pretentious.
There you have it. Bread, a paleolithic invention, makes the day good.
There hasn't been a bad day in over 20,000 years.

The only good thing to waking up at five in the morning on Sunday from absolutely vicious period cramps was realizing I had enough time to watch the fourth season of Arrested Development before any spoilers hit. The last twenty minutes of the last episode were the hardest in that regard. It's very much not a show I can watch casually - it's not designed that way, and in my case, it's the only way I can stomach a lot of it. The aggressive ignorance and willful blindness to reality gets under my skin and makes it hard to want to go back to watching, unless I'm trying to finish up the current season.

How about you don't fucking watch it, then?

It sounds like you don't like it.

I've seen and interacted with so many people online that outright, up-front, describe themselves as hostile, angry, annoying, spiteful, nasty, childish, spoiled, whiny, unpleasant to be around, generally pissed off, or some combination thereof, that when I see someone label themselves as insufferable or something similar, I won't know it's a joke. I'm too used to people being up-front about these things - with the internet being a reasonably safe space to mention it right off the bat - that I take it at face value, and immediately slot the person in as they've so labeled themselves.

You're pretty douchey, lady, do you mention that?

So I'm getting a tax return.

No one cares.
Fuck it I'm going to bed.

Oh shit

I thought Monday was Sunday so I missed that update.
Thanks Obama.
So this is some teacher's blog--
because, you know, dealing with asshole 9th graders (they're not people until after Christmas) all day and I didn't get my fill of school drama.

 They've pushed us back again.  We're NOT going to work tomorrow. Again.  Still.

I can't WAIT to see how much of our fall/winter/spring break and various holidays they're going to end up taking from us as compensation.

This is so much fun!

Fucking idiots.

WEY HEY HUE HUE HUA HUE

I seriously sent our staff into a tizzy today because I had the gall to ask, "So last year the head of the network came to one of our meetings and said, 'for every day the construction company was late delivering the building, we cut $10,000 off what we're paying them.'  We're several days late already, so what are they doing with that money?"  Believe me, we had a few ideas for how we could put it to good use.  Co-teacher AP and I want SmartBoards in a huge way. ;)  Basically we were told that since campuses 7 and 8 are in our building too, that the money would be used to pay down the deficit any campus runs at until they're at full capacity.

Fuck that.  I want a SmartBoard. :p

OH AND!  My room loses six feet off the back for a storage closet.  That I don't actually get to use.  So my room is smaller than any other.Fuck that too.

Lol smartboards. What a racket.
"Can I use the smartboard?"
"NO YOU'RE NOT TRAINED TO USE IT."
It's a fucking computer. What's the worst that could happen?
And so no one uses it because of that.
No one is trained to use the incredibly simple point and click interface.

my printer ran out of yellow ink half way through a 30 page color document.  Changing the ink cartridges in my printer is a PAIN IN THE ASS, since I can't reach up to see what the fuck I'm doing and I have to climb on furniture like a damn acrobat.

OH MY GOD TEACHING RIGHT

Okay, all *I* may need is my ferrets, my Mac and fanfic, but my students need iPads. We have the most dilapidated, old, junky netbooks in the world. And as a charter school, my kids are not any part of that CPS iPad program.

They need iPads?
Can't they use a pencil and a paper?

I got the most adorable lecture today.  I was alone in my room while my middle schoolers were in gym.  A first grader was given the task of bringing myself and my co-teacher some of the extra Italian Ices from her class'  party that they won for having the most 'caught being good' awards.

 

I congratulated her on her grade being so good that they won the award and she asked me if my students won.  I said, "No, the sixth graders didn't win.  They talk too much."

 

I was told, in an incredibly authoritative voice, "You have to *make* them not talk."

You're kinda talking down to her with "most adorable" but she's pretty much right.

Better watch yourself. She'll have your job in a few years.

I didn't get hired by the middle school principal.  Apparently almost no one already in-network did.

Yeah I know tell me about it.

The school that was dead serious about hiring me didn't even call me back.
Then the one that was ehhh on the fence called me the minute after I submitted my application for an interview.

I didn't get that either but at least I interviewed.

Fucking schools, man.

They're like white wahms. No telling how shit goes.

Logi's got 6 to 8 months left, even with the new, $100/month, human medicine he's on.  He crashes almost daily now.

Time to let the dog go, lady.

Let the animal expire with some dignity.

He probably came from a long line of warhounds or something. 

In fact time for our weekly "this is how kickass Julius Caesar was" lesson.

As Caesar said: you don't die when your life expires. You die when you're forgotten.

And Caesar was so kick ass even his dog is remembered.

Caesar's dog's name?
Negris Alto.

Which is Latin for, I am not even joking, brown girl.

Caesar knew what was up 2040 years before I did.

That's why I never understood in world history when we were reading about Romans and the second he died they deified him and called him Deus Caesar the Christer girl was all "I don't understand how they can worship a man" and the reason should be pretty obvious.

How many guys aspire to be 1% as baller?

So I'm really starting to think that, for sheer entertainment value, there's little as amusing as watching 11 and 12 year olds take sex ed.  From professional people who teach this stuff who aren't me.  I just sit there and say "[student], grow up.  Now."  A lot.  

Yeah I had to sit through that when I spent a week at a middle school.

TEE HEE DICK

"aww come on bro no girl wants a guy that giggles over the word penis"

no more problems after that.

Which is total bullshit because I'm 25 and make giant dick jokes nonstop but he doesn't need to know that.

Co-teacher's classroom management has been *rapidly* spiraling down to ... I don't know, can we give negative scores?  She actually interrupted my social studies lesson today to ask me what to do because one of the girls yelled out, "[Boy-Child-W] is not a girl!"  She was completely and utterly unable to explain to me why A would say this, why pointing out that boy in the class was not a girl was such a major issue that she had to disrupt me, how DC figured into any of this and why it put W into tears.

I had to trot out the old commissar routine today with this one asshole class.
ALL RIGHT YOU'RE ALL YELLING AND NOT WORKING SO WHO IS GOING TO BE MY SACRIFICIAL LAMB TO GO OUT OF THE ROOM (big shit)?

I WANTED TO BE THE NICE GUY BUT YOU GUYS WANT TO GO CRAZY?
LET'S GO NUTS.

And you have to phrase shit like that because they don't understand what being civil means.

It didn't work that well, frankly.

There's like a 50/50 shot and I usually don't like to let things spiral that far out of control but substitute, 9th grade, second week of school, teacher hasn't been back since the long break--

fuck it it's a miracle no one died.

 So we're reading a book in class today wherein a character who is very, very quiet and has been abused, so is very skiddish and such, jumps up and does something heroic.

When we get done with read aloud we have something called a 'thumbs up' discussion.  When I get done reading the kids who have something to say put their thumbs up, I call on someone, they speak and then they call on someone who has their thumb up, etc... I can sit back and let them talk to each other about the book.

Yeah this is real life. Kids never learned how to raise their hands.

I'm not even kidding. This is the reality of schooling in 2013.

Weirdest Day Ever.

Let's compare my weirdest day ever teaching with your weirdest day ever teaching.

We're discussing Harrison Burgeron (the Vonnegot story) today and breaking down why the dancers would have to wear bags of birdshot and masks.  I ask 'What kind of people do we usually see as dancers?"

Answer?

"Strippers!"

*SIGH*  Welcome to middle school.

I had a kid come in high on PCP and start lobbing desks at the wall.
That's not even the weirdest shit.

It's been bugging me for several weeks that there's been a local political ad where someone thought they were being clever, but instead were just showing off that they don't listen to what they say.  The ad ended with:

"[Political Candidate] won't show us his tax returns while raising yours."

And I'm not being coy about whose ad it is - I honestly don't remember.  All I walked away with was, "You want to take my 1040 and hold it over your head... what???"

Actually if we're talking about it from a purely split infinitive standpoint it's saying he won't show you his taxes while he's raising yours over his head.
Any other time is fine, presumably.

My cousins and me were at the park with my uncle.  He told us we had to stay together.

"Yes Uncle!"  We all said that in a unicycle.  Then we went to look at the flower house.




I'm going to crack up every time I see that kid tomorrow.

0/10 get the fuck out of my classroom
you're fucking expelled.
Anyway fuck blogs I got shit to do.