June 27th, 2009

c is for cat

(no subject)

  • 13:10 *roars like Grendel* Morning safeword! Bleh. So glad I don't have TV, so I don't have to hear about MJ all day. Unless I look at LJ. #
  • 13:11 RT @marianallen #Fairyland has a starting cast! Anyone disagree! Good September...tinyurl.com/l4u6ds #
  • 13:13 I find myself using Twitter for little through-the-day things & contact far more than I expected. It's comforting, on my distant island. #
  • 13:31 @withneedle Sure! #
  • 17:18 Am lonely. Who's out there? #
  • 17:22 @ockhamdesign Why is it that the internet devices most people decry as isolating always end up being these beautiful things in my life? #
  • 17:27 So...many of us are here. What shall we play? #
  • 17:34 PS. Anna Ternheim's Shoreline = September's theme song. #Fairyland #
  • 17:35 @cherylmorgan ZOMG!! #
  • 17:49 @derekmolata Right Hand Red, naturally. #
  • 18:15 Fannish folk cycle is complete: September has a verse in the Wicked Girls apocrypha...you know, that song I listen to while writing Fland. #
  • 18:15 bit.ly/3cfC1 #
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gort

This Shit Is Real

This is awesome, and why Italian politics are better than any other politics.

But the question is, really: how can I get a naked Czech Ex-Prime Minister at my party?

I'm pretty sure I could get a bunch of hot naked women, and a few men, even, to come over to mine for some shots and career ruination. It's the ex-Prime Minister that gets me. How do you do that, short of being a Prime Minister yourself?

So I ask: how many steps are there between me and a naked ex-Prime Minister? (Any Prime Minister is fine, Czech is only a bonus. I'm not asking for Tony Blair, it can be the ex-Prime Minister of Lichtenstein or wherever.) Is there a Craigslist section? How does one go about organizing what is clearly the party of the century?

I'm afraid that from here on out, I will be mildly saddened by any party not featuring an ex-Prime Minister. Or at least an ex-Student Body President or something. I'll be all: wow, this sure is a great party, but it's no Berlusconi. Oh, to be in Italy, and seventy-two!


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