Gor (regarding List discussions)

I have read all sorts of things, and I have liked them or not liked them. I am the sort of person whose reaction to book-burnings is to false-politely suggest with the "I am showing my teeth and it is not a smile" expression, that perhaps the roles of burner and burnee should be reversed.

The Gor book that boojum gave me, which I read perhaps the first twenty pages of, is so far one of the only books I actively wish to destroy.

I have read S.M. Stirling's Draka books. I enjoyed them, because as much as they horrified and squicked me, they are well-written, well-crafted, and ... *shudder* I'm glad that I've witnessed the author himself say onlist that, were they real, he'd be one of the first ones in with a backpack nuke.

It's really not fair to compare Gor to the Draka. Gor is a fantasy. I have also read fantasies that squicked me. (Fantasy in this case would be "dream of the author, unlikely to be carried out" rather than the sword-and-sorcery genre.) pyrogenic had a particularly ... vivid ... one at the Wash some years back. ("the Wash": a web page with classic e-mail forwards "cleaned up" and presented in a static format.) It was about an office that decided to implement the practice of office whores, and it crept gradually from something on the bare edge of plausibility into... not. And it squicked me more and more the more I read, and finally I had to quit reading it because it disturbed me so much.

This differs from Gor in that I didn't stop reading the Gor book because the practices detailed within completely disgusted me, it was because I could not wrap my mind around the self-satisfied purple prose that the fucking thing was written in. I was left with no desire to do anything with the office whore story other than not read it; Gor left me with the desire to break out FatherSir's propane weed-burner torch.

I suppose my point is this: everyone has fantasies, and Your Kink May Well Be My Squick. (Like mpreg. I can't get my mind around that, even though I'm writing one just to prove that it can be written well.) But for the love of gods, even though it may be squicky as all goatfuck, that's no excuse for poor writing.

Testing, testing...

We had a test in Sandstrom's class. Mr. Potter (yes, the late Mr. Potter himself) was lecturing next door. Now, for those of us who haven't met Potter yet, he is one of the single loudest teachers I've ever met. He said that some of his engineering students were huddled around something and snickering one day, and it turned out to be a decibel meter. He clocked in at 94 db. (That's loud.)

So. Test in one room. Potter right next door. You'd better believe there was giggling when Potter started making sound effects... Sandstrom mimed a kick at the wall, to much hilarity.

Plans, plans...

Today, I must do things.

I must deposit checks.
I want to get some more TJ's goodies.
I probably should get some more chocolate chips from Sam's.
I should dip the rest of my truffle centers.
I should get more caramel sauce, because we're out.
I should put away laundry and clean my closet.
I should file papers.
I should make the nightgowns.
I should work on the rag rug.
I should convert the old plaid nightgown to rags, as it's nearly there anyway.
I should re-polish my fingernails.
I should dye my hair.
I should remember to do the fingernails after the hair.
I should clean the bathroom.

Fwd: Hollywood Squares

These are from the 70s Hollywood Squares, when game show responses were spontaneous and not scripted like they are now.

Q: If you're going to make a parachute jump, you should be at least how high?
A: Charley Weaver: Three days of steady drinking should do it.

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Pink Elephant Soap

Once upon a time, swallowtayle and I got a pink elephant soap. We proceeded to play with him, and named him "Couchy Catswinger", because he sat on the couch all the time and swung cats around by their tails.

I think that was how it went, anyway...

glamourbombs meme

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Afternoon/evening: sleeping, shopping.

After finishing the DADA test, I hung out in the computer lab and exchanged pleasantries with Baroness Babble while checking LJ and replying to comments. After that, I hung with the younger of my gayboys and bits of that little crowd before wandering home.

Home saw me collapsing, zonked, though feeling guilty about not doing more. Marx happily got a nap.

I accepted delivery of votania's new phone. It's cute and shiny and tiny and shines blue. I put it together and plugged it in and got it fully charged and programmed the Temple number into the address book as a courtesy to the zonked-out exhausted actual owner.

After regaining energy through some napping myself, I headed off to Sam's, where I got chocolate chips, more dragon food lest I run into witchofrock unprepared, three black shirts (two long-sleeved tees, one polo shirt), and random household necessities.

I'd overestimated the carrying capacity of my backpack by about 1.5 cubic feet, and wound up carrying two items in my hands. I am happy for the new, larger backpack, though!

I'm home now, reading through the digests of the List that got backed up in my inbox. I use a different address for the List than I do for LJ and just about everything else, so it gets a little full if I don't check it. Ahh, I'm glad to see that things have settled down. elorie and ataniell93 can get a little intense when they're hashing something out.

Worked out.

Finally, after far too much time not, I worked out again. 5 minutes on the bike, some arms, some legs.

I told votania that I didn't want a foil until I could do 100 plies and stay in the stance for 15 minutes.

At the moment, 4 plies is about my limit. I guess the DeVry stairs and I should be having more words with each other...

Elizabeth Peters is fun.

Consider this a wish list.