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subterrainMy dad just signed off a ten-word email with old one hand. As in:
good to know.
surgery went well.
old one hand
It's kind of like I'm receiving coded riddle emails from my maimed arch-nemesis, a rogue privateering sea captain confirming the date of our french polynesian rendezvous, where he'll hand over my captured ward (a stubborn teenage boy in a ruffled collar from a good family) who he's recently performed some kind of high-seas butchery on with a hacksaw and a bottle of rum, because an encounter with the British fleet - my own ship, mayhaps? - put a cannonball through my ward's foot, and when I see him the boy will be pale but stoic and Old One Hand will threaten to walk him off the plank until I commit some act of derring-do, and it is revealed that my arch-nemesis has always been my estranged father, and by our own similarities in the midst of an action sequence we will be reconciled.
Fortunately, I know my dad was not getting a hand amputated. So. Crisis averted. I will not be joining the navy any time soon.
'Tis the season of awkward gifts and tokens from people you don't like well enough to have got gifts for yourself. In this case: bag of chocolate, and a silkscreened print. :/ One more reason to work people up so I can blacklist Christmas entirely next year. The secret is to have a social circle so small or held at perfect arms-length, so they'd never think of you, either, and then tell the people you actually care about that you refuse to buy into the megatheocorporatocracy. I WILL GET THERE. I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL.
good to know.
surgery went well.
old one hand
It's kind of like I'm receiving coded riddle emails from my maimed arch-nemesis, a rogue privateering sea captain confirming the date of our french polynesian rendezvous, where he'll hand over my captured ward (a stubborn teenage boy in a ruffled collar from a good family) who he's recently performed some kind of high-seas butchery on with a hacksaw and a bottle of rum, because an encounter with the British fleet - my own ship, mayhaps? - put a cannonball through my ward's foot, and when I see him the boy will be pale but stoic and Old One Hand will threaten to walk him off the plank until I commit some act of derring-do, and it is revealed that my arch-nemesis has always been my estranged father, and by our own similarities in the midst of an action sequence we will be reconciled.
Fortunately, I know my dad was not getting a hand amputated. So. Crisis averted. I will not be joining the navy any time soon.
'Tis the season of awkward gifts and tokens from people you don't like well enough to have got gifts for yourself. In this case: bag of chocolate, and a silkscreened print. :/ One more reason to work people up so I can blacklist Christmas entirely next year. The secret is to have a social circle so small or held at perfect arms-length, so they'd never think of you, either, and then tell the people you actually care about that you refuse to buy into the megatheocorporatocracy. I WILL GET THERE. I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL.
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Just tell them you're giving to the CSPD (Canadian Society of Perverts and Deviants) in lieu. :D
Date: 2008-12-09 04:25 am (UTC)Hi. Crepes. What? Crepes. I have crepes on the mind grapes.
I actually have a half-finished email that alludes to this, but I am distracted by syrup possibilities and combinations. Fact: I've watched the first three eps of True Blood and we are not enamored. The only character who doesn't make me squawk at the screen in annoyance is Jason, and that's only because I love a douche. Anna Paquin, Paige. I don't know if I can do it. She's just so terrible. Tell me, how long do I have to hang on? Mad Men took me until almost the end of season 1, but I'm glad I stuck it out.
no subject
Date: 2008-12-10 10:32 pm (UTC)I won't lie: I'm heartbroken by our continuing crap luck. Although, it's probably a good thing True Blood isn't doing it for you because the fandom sucks as a whole, so if the show didn't make you throw a fit, the fans would've. :(