East Coast Gazette

Title: Strictly on a Need to Know Basis
Rating: PG
Summary: “For fuck’s sake, Gibbs — is this some kind of exchange program that I don’t know about?”

Fast and unbetaed and totally irredeemably dumb.

I write (silliness) in moments of extreme stress, and given that my flight to Seattle is tomorrow afternoon, I’m feeling fairly justifiably stressed.  I’m equal parts scared and psyched here, folks, but I think in the last hour I’ve been tilting more toward “scared” than psyched, which is not awesome.

Also!  Those of you who are Seattle natives or live nearby, if you don’t already have my phone number, drop me a line at rageprufrock at gmail dot com and let me know if you want to hang out — I’d love some company on my first few days in the Emerald City, and well, basically anytime at all.  I love: smut, bars, and long walks on the shoreline and also talking about televised gay.  Come on people, be my friend.

Minervacat, Triskellita, Darastar, LN, N. and I hit the Local Consolidated Theaters (And Wow, What A Totally Unromantic Name That Is) tonight to see Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End and it was totally money. Min and I anticipate that the wank regarding this movie started roughly five minutes ago — that’s allowing for travel time back from the theater and writing up a scathing commentary, unless of people flame lj via BlackBerry, in which case I just assume it is the end of the world and have done with it. I adored the film, thought it was hugely fun, and am more desperately in love with Jack Sparrow than ever.

So today I made the trek from the C.H. to Charlotte and then back again. That’s about 2 and a half hours on the road each way with a two hour cushion in the middle where I ate chicken tenders and tried to learn about Cimabue and the International Gothic style in a cafe waiting before my meeting. Some people — COUGH ASHE COUGH — really enjoy driving, and God bless ‘em, they can drive for me in the future, because somewhere between High Point and Burlington while I was trapped on the endless hell of I-85, I was literally boxed in by semis and I wanted nothing more than Dean Winchester to poof into existence and be my chauffeur while Sam made his bitchface ™ in the backseat.

But really, now that it’s 10 p.m., I am equipped with surprisingly excellent Chinese food from that local place from which I have never ordered because apparently you have to know a guy who know a guy who once killed a unicorn to be able to find out THAT they deliver, I am feeling much calmer — much happier. Much more in tune with my inner child who is eating her third otter pop of the day. (It’s the only reason I’m not eating the Klondike bars that are also in the freezer. Or my spiked watermelon. Ooo — I should eat my spiked watermelon.) I forgive myself; I’m learning about Cimabue and the International Gothic style for Christ’s sake.

The point of this entry isn’t actually just to bitch about my trip, but also to point out this really excellent cool “Waffles and Manga” mix made by onelittlesleep, who, once upon a time, seriously, left me the sweetest comment I have ever gotten on a story ever, hands down. I actually had to rub at my eyes a bunch when I saw that one because oh my God, that was exactly kind of how I felt. I mean, other than the tying Conner to a scarecrow pole thing in a cornfield thing — ’cause that was all above board. The point is, I’ve been listening to the mix for a while now and ya’ll should definitely to hook yourselves up, it’s awesome, and it’s very, very appropriately Conner and Geoffrey in Visiting Hours, I think.

I think I might be starting version five of Arc. God damn my life.

Oh, and for your gratuitous hilarity of the day, check under the cut for Ouran Host Club shenanigans, some ungodly hot(t) Gaara, and Hugh Laurie being awesome. And some graphic pictures of phone sex from our favorite Lets Make Porn Stars Fall In Love! mangaka Youka Nitta, and a special bonus with a file name “clampsux.” I have no idea who (a) made these (b) snuck them onto the internet in the first place — but they’re not mine and yet, STILL hilarious:

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And by “gird his loins,” I mean, brace himself for me roaring up to him with a starry look in my eyes telling him how AWESOME he is in a way that will allow him to hear every single capital letter in AWESOME. Hot Fuzz was amazing and also AWESOME. Minervacat, Triskellita, Darastar, LN and I were nearly in TEARS throughout the movie, although there was considerably more surprised flailing on LN and I’s side of the row since we were seeing it for the first time. Ya’ll, I am not shitting you. At one point, LN had to slap my flailing hands down so I wouldn’t injure her or myself. This is worth the first-run movie tickets; in fact, I’m considering going to see it again with Roommate, who was unfortunately detained by Family Obligations today and could not join us on our discovery of the magicaliciousness of the word “yarp.”

Oh, and also: gayest. movie. buddy-cops. evar.

You see that? I wrote it with an “a” — in italics. That means I’m for hardcore.

Watch this space for Hot Fuzz shenaniganry coming v. v. v. soon.