fierynotes: Picture of Destruction, from the Sandman series, reading a book and slinging a guitar. (Default)
This is my front page. If you want me to add you, drop me a line here. Or, add me. Either way, I'll check you out. You can also drop me a line here if, for instance, you don't have my email address. All comments here are screened.

This post also includes every tag I have -- this is because my current LJ style doesn't include a tag index. (At least half of my participation on LJ is on my phone. I chose this style because, as bare-bones as it is, it loads quickly and it's still readable on a small screen.)

I'd tell you more about myself, but that's what my profile -- and the rest of my LJ -- is for.
fierynotes: Picture of Tarvek, from Girl Genius, facepalming. (facepalm)
I will not write slashfic starring Melissa McEwan and Paul Elam.
I will not write slashfic starring Melissa McEwan and Paul Elam.
I will not write slashfic starring Melissa McEwan and Paul Elam.

(Sits on hands.)

...I will not write slashfic starring Melissa McEwan and Paul Elam.
I will not write slashfic starring Melissa McEwan and Paul Elam.
I will not write slashfic starring Melissa McEwan and Paul Elam.
I will not write slashfic starring Melissa McEwan and Paul Elam.
I will not write slashfic starring Melissa McEwan and Paul Elam.
I will not write slashfic starring Melissa McEwan and Paul Elam.
I will not write slashfic starring Melissa McEwan and Paul Elam.

(Twitches nervously.)

Dammit, I don't have time to write it. I mean, yes, I could easily the dirty talk between them, as they try to one-up each other in how much "donation" money they can get from their suckers. Paul would brag about getting money from some guy on unemployment, Lis would brag about getting money from someone who's down to $5 of child support money...


I will not write slashfic starring Melissa McEwan and Paul Elam.
I will not write slashfic starring Melissa McEwan and Paul Elam.
I will not write slashfic starring Melissa McEwan and Paul Elam.
I will not write slashfic starring Melissa McEwan and Paul Elam.
I will not write slashfic...
fierynotes: Picture of a B diminished 7th chord (B, D, F, A flat) followed by an inversion, in flames. (Bdim7)
Yesterday, I went to a concert at the Oakland Metro Operahouse, a nice little dive in downtown Oakland. Really, it's a dive. And the sound is not that great there. And the men's bathrooms have big-ass spikes in the stalls, and toilet paper rolls are hanging off them because no one actually puts toilet paper rolls on the dispensers.

Oddly, I liked the place a lot. Anyway, here's who I heard...

Necronomicon: I looked them up on YouTube before the show, and expected a German 90s-era thrash band. Instead, we got a Canadian death-or-black metal band that was completely indistinguishable from a million other death-or-black metal bands. It's not my fault that there are like five bands named Necronomicon. Anyway, this one has been around for twenty-five years. I've never heard of them before now.

Hour of Penance... didn't make it. Visa problems. I was joking with friends about how they ended up on a US terrorist watchlist because their most recent album was titled "Regicide." Instead, we got...

Back Crown Initiate: really good stuff, and rewards repeated listens. It's complex and chewy, and they have a pretty wide variety of feels and textures in their music. This was my first exposure to them. I plan on hearing more. They need a much better venue for their music -- the sound in this place worked against them.

Fleshgod Apocalypse: the show I cracked a rib at last year. This time, I got off easy: a few bruises, and if I must touch my nose at all, I do it gingerly. (It's not broken or anything.) As before, the band hired a very vocally gifted lady to handle the soprano lines, because their bass guitarist can only go up to about G5 in a slightly cartoonish falsetto, but there are lines that require vocals reaching up past C6. She was wearing a mask and a black billowy dress. The rest of the band looked like they had once been wearing tuxes at an opera, but the opera house burned down.

At the end of their set, after looking all menacing and evil, they came back on stage, all the house lights came on... and it turned out that under her own layer of menace and without the mask, the soprano was clearly tickled pink to be there. It was a startling transformation, from "scary ghostly operatic phantom" to "freaking adorable." (The other band members were also clearly happy to be there at the end, but it wasn't such a huge change in character.)

Septic Flesh... well, they have certain technical challenges, owing to the fact that they didn't bring an orchestra with them, and at this point, their music can't really be played without it, without eing horribly diminished. So, all the orchestral stuff isn't live, and the musicians are playing along with it. The way I think that works is that the drummer is either triggering the playback, or he's got a click-track going off in his ear or as a visual cue. This doesn't quite work if the song starts off with bare guitars and the rest of the band (and orchestra) pipes in several measures later (the song "Anubis," for instance), so I suspect that in moments like this, the first few guitar lines are also prerecorded. (Both guitarists started many of their songs with their backs to the audience, turning around once the song really got started, which doesn't exactly prove me wrong.)

Let me make it clear that this does not diminish my respect for the band. You don't go to a Septic Flesh show expecting instrumental mastery; indeed, any second-year guitar student can play their stuff. (Their drumlines are a different matter entirely.) That's not the point. The point is that their music is very well-written, and a hell of a lot of fun to get into a moshpit with.

It would have been nice if there were more people there. This was the saddest crowd I've seen in some time. Not that I blame them: I managed an extra-long July 4th weekend only by submitting my vacation request over a month ahead of time. Still, it was a great show. And I have two souvenirs. Gods help me, for the first time in years, I actually have T-shirts announcing to the world that I listen to earsplitting noise for fun...
fierynotes: Picture of a B diminished 7th chord (B, D, F, A flat) followed by an inversion, in flames. (Bdim7)
So, one Virgo Rouge just dropped a bunch of comments on my head. They were all right here, but it seems she deleted them by mistake. How sad, that no one will see her brilliant defense against my jeers! Fortunately I'm a good sport and I figure she deserves a chance to be heard by anyone who might have seen me say rude things about her.

Of course, I have rebuttals.

Subject: No such proof of what you are saying

Marissa Marchant is a teenager..go look at her photos
You have the wrong person. I am Virgo Rouge.

Go google her name.
There is also a Marchant Manfield.

I am Marissa Elienne.

You have not done your research.

Marissa Marchant may well have been a teenager... in 2003. It's been over ten years.

Subject: Music is about music, enjoyment, not talking, or comparing yourself to others.
You are a liar. Focus on the music everyone. Healthy people focus on music only, jealous people talk about trivia, gossip and make up stories.

Just focus on my art.

Don't think about whether it is better or worse, just enjoy.

I enjoy music, I don't compare myself to others.
All of your quotes are false.

I am better than most commercial music today, but that is not saying much.

I am not better than a lot of unfamous people or lesser known musicians who are excellent.

I am better in my mind, but you don't to agree. Just listen to whatever you enjoy and I don't care that you prefer their music to mine.

I enjoy hearing my own music rather than listening to them.
I think that I am better than a lot of people out there who are making millions.

Better as a musician, because I enjoy hearing my music over their music.

I also enjoy hearing other musicians over their music as well.

You don't have to like my music. I truly don't care. Turn the dial.

Give me a 1000 dollars for a CD everyone. I need donations so I can continue what I do.

The 1000 dollars is for donations since I am unsigned.

Also, give some donations to other artists that you enjoy.

Fund your local musician, especially if you like them.

Y'know, if you're claiming not to have been a lolcow that demanded $1000 for a CD, it doesn't help your case if you're saying things like "Give me 1000 dollars for a CD everyone." Even with context. Likewise, if you're claiming you don't compare yourself to others, and then saying "I'm better than all these others."

Subject: I am better than Justin Beiber and Selena Gomez for sure

Grow up teeny tweeny lover. I am better than Taylor Swift as a musician and Justin Beiber. Someday when you mature, you will agree.

Madam, you owe my cat an apology. Here he was, sitting on my lap, utterly content and buzzing up a storm. Or at least, he was until you called me a teeny tweeny lover, and I started laughing so hard he got scared and left. Considering how loud I'm laughing and that it's currently six in the morning, you may owe my neighbors apologies as well.

As for my maturity? I'm forty! I am so far away from Taylor Swift's target demographic that if it exploded, I wouldn't hear the boom for several hours. There's only one reason I could possibly be interested in Taylor Swift... and that'll never happen, because I'm not famous. Even if I were, I prefer women closer to my own age, and I don't want to deal with an immature drama queen who'll drive me away and then write a song about what I jerk I was.

Subject: I never talk about the music industry.

That is why I never talk about the music industry. You are the only one who keeps mentioning them. I have all kinds of videos of me speak about the music industry seriously. I only have a comedy video about it. All of this is COMEDY. You don't believe the things that I say as true do you? I have been writing comedy for years.

Most of the time I am just kidding around....99 percent of the time, I am JOKING...

You sound like you have no sense of humor...I think it is all funny!!!!!!!!!!!

I do have a sense of humor, though it's admittedly a bit warped. Believe me, amusement is the only reason I've paid you a second glance, let alone bothered to write about you. I actually think you're hilarious. Admittedly, I'm not sure whether it's intentional. If you're actually trying to be funny, I applaud your wit and your dedication, since you've kept this act up for over ten years.
fierynotes: Picture of Daimon, from Marvel comics, without a shirt.  'Look at me, I have muscles!' (flirty)
As part of my research for an upcoming project, I bought Thor v.1: The God Butcher. I'd like to quote the captions from the first page. (Keep in mind that in comics, word placement is kinda important, and that's going to make the punctuation look odd when the words are laid out in plain old text. Don't fault the grammar... there's plenty to fault in the content.)

"The frost giant had terrorized these people for weeks. It had eaten three goats, four dogs, and two children. The mothers of the village prayed for help from the gods. And help they did receive.

"I led a group of twenty men, tracking the giant to its den in the highlands. It battled us for hours, swinging trees and hurling boulders. Many vikings found their way to Valhalla. Until my axe hacked its guts to bloody slush and lopped off its head.

"That was four days ago. Since then I have eaten more goats than the frost giant, drank enough mead to drown a dozen sailors, and made love to half the women in the village.

"I am Thor Odinson. God of thunder. Prince of Asgard. Heir to the throne of the realm eternal. I love my life."

I'll be going to a convention in a little over a month, and no doubt the subject of comics will come up. If I hear anyone talk about how sure, comics have lots of top-heavy minimally-dressed anatomically-impossible women for horny teenage boys to look like, but hey, look, Thor looks impressive as hell without a shirt, and he's also anatomically impossible and he's for women, I intend to point to the quote above and laugh at them. Because seriously, he's the most fearsome warrior ever, parties like a fratboy, and taps every chick in the house. That's to-o-otally what women want. To-o-o-o-o-o-otally not a male power fantasy of any kind.

(I'm being unfair to the writer here. The story is actually quite good, and the villain, though horrifying, is engaging and believable... at least as believable as is possible given that we're dealing with gods here. For all the mystery around the villain -- we only learn about the villain a little at a time -- he's better-fleshed-out than Thor is, so the writer is clearly capable. So, it's not that he couldn't. He just didn't.)

Other writers treat Thor better. I remember seeing a frame online in which Thor grills a whole bunch of meat for his comrades... including hot dogs, though he disapproves of them and isn't shy about what he thinks of the quality of meat in them. "I attempted a lobster as well, but the beast defeated me." And honestly, I liked the hell out of the movies -- there was character growth, humor, and scenes that made it clear that the writers want to get women into the audience.

(I'm totally going to be accused of being a fake geek-boy in about five weeks! It should be fun.)
fierynotes: Picture of Destruction, from the Sandman series, reading a book and slinging a guitar. (Default)

I would never have thought, in a million years, to cast Joanna Lumley as The Doctor. And yet, now that I see this, I really want to see her play The Doctor for real, not just the last two minutes of a comedy sketch! Don't get me wrong -- I think Capaldi will be a very good Doctor, especially if they let him swear a lot -- but I would watch the shit out of her.

(In a similar vein, someone on Tumblr wants a TV or movie version of Welcome to Night Vale to exist... and they want Jason Momoa to play Cecil. I would never have thought of this -- I picture Cecil as rather skinny, to tell you the truth -- but as with Joanna Lumley as The Doctor, I really want to see it.
fierynotes: Picture of Daimon, from Marvel comics, without a shirt.  'Look at me, I have muscles!' (flirty)
"An elderly person warms the palms of his hands over a brazier and stretches out the wrinkles. No young man would dream of behaving in such fashion; old people can really be quite shameless." -- Sei Shōnagon

One occasionally finds elderly men using the hot air machines to dry their crotches after taking a shower. No young man would do this, for those machines are for drying hands. Oh, how hateful!

"The sound of dogs when they bark for a long time in chorus is ominous and hateful."

One is at the gym, listening to one's own music while exercising, when one's fellow patrons scream, in the manner of a woman in labor without painkillers, as they lift a weight, each time they lift it. What charmless behavior! "Hateful" is an understatement.

"I cannot stand people who leave without closing the panel behind them."

One opens a locker without a lock on it, expecting it to be empty, only to find someone's belongings already there. Most hateful!

"One has gone to bed and is about to doze off when a mosquito appears, announcing himself in a reedy voice. One can actually feel the wind made by his wings, and, slight though it is, one finds it hateful in the extreme."

A popular style of headphones are audible from some considerable distance, and their faint buzzing announces the lack of musical taste of their owners. Hateful!
fierynotes: Picture of Daimon, from Marvel comics, without a shirt.  'Look at me, I have muscles!' (flirty)
Dear Bible-pounding jerkoffs hanging out outside train stations,

Just as your faith is clearly an important part of your life, fitness is an important part of mine. Lemme tell you a few things about it.

I live it every day. I practice it every day. It has improved my life in a dozen obvious and less-obvious ways. I am a happier and better person for having it. Lifting weights has taught me lessons about working toward goals with non-immediate results -- lessons I've applied elsewhere in my life. Because I'm now a little bigger and scarier, and because I also more closely match our culture's body standards, the world treats me better... and I've found that as a result, I am much nicer to the world now than I was when I was skinny. And hey, confidence is a good thing, right?

And yet, I do not judge non-believers. I certainly don't look for opportunities to tell non-believers about the horrible fates awaiting them if they don't start living as I do.

This isn't to say I never preach. Obviously, I talk about it in my journal online, but it's my journal, it's about my life, and fitness is an important part of it. (A few people I know talk about their relationship with God in their journals. Same thing. It's part of their lives.) Sometimes, I preach in the real world, too... but usually only when asked. Occasionally, people in my life ask me questions. I do my best to answer them. Sometimes, people take the first steps on the road I'm currently walking. I do my best to encourage them. While most of the people who've noticed that I'm a different person now don't feel like emulating my life choices, a few people -- just a few! -- have been inspired to make changes for themselves. Where you have only managed to alienate people, I've actually had a positive effect.

There's a lesson in this, if you look closely.


[personal profile] fierynotes

Dear Judgmental asshole,

I apologize for my response to your missive. While hysterical laughter (preceded by choking noises) was certainly an appropriate response, it wasn't exactly as well-argued or well-thought-out as I would have liked. So, in the spirit of the staircase (that sounds much better in French), I'd like to say a few things I really wish I'd thought to say to you. It's not like I think I'll actually have a chance to say this to your face, but what the hell -- I'll have them ready for the next judgmental asshole.

One: thank you. I knew that one day, people would be making cracks about me going to the gym to compensate for certain... ahem, shortcomings, but I figured that I was still too skinny for anyone to think that, and a few more years of hard work stood between me and that day. Apparently, I'm not the best judge of my own progress. So... again, thank you.

Two: If you actually believe that male gymrats build themselves up to compensate for undersized penises... there's this thing called gay porn. You should look into it. You'll find plenty of counterexamples. I'd guess that doing a google image search for "muscular hung naked" or suchlike would also find you plenty of counterexamples, but I've typed enough interesting things into Google for one day (here on LJ, here on DW), so you'll have to look for yourself.

Three, and perhaps most importantly: making assumptions about a person's character flaws from their body shape makes you a judgmental asshole. In your case, it probably also makes you a hypocrite, since I'm sure at least one judgmental asshole has looked at your belly and made some unfair and unflattering assumptions about you. In my case, it also makes you wrong, but I don't expect you to believe that, and I wouldn't show it to you any more than I would show my pale-but-well-shaped ass to this asshole... for all the same reasons.


[personal profile] fierynotes
fierynotes: Picture of Discord. (discord)
  • muslim porn
  • edible books
  • quantum erotica
  • rhymes with uvula
  • xylophone buggery
  • solar power marzipan
  • barbra streisand steroids
  • devil worshipping squirrels
  • ultraviolet hose nipple clamps
  • force-feeding toddlers urinal mints
  • i dream of jeannie inception crossover fic

(I figure that if you can't keep Google and other such companies from trying to learn about you, you can at least try to confuse them a little.)
fierynotes: Picture of Discord. (discord)
This filk is dedicated to a certain group of sad, bitter, hateful, misogynist assholes who think that they're owed pussy, and they're angry that the world doesn't just hand it to them, and they rail and gnash about how they're doomed -- DOOMED! -- to eternal involuntary celibacy (because all women are superficial cunts who can't see what great guys they are). Oddly, many such neckbeards are apparently Rush fans... so filking a Rush song seems especially appropriate.

(I should add that I have sixteen of Rush's CDs on my computer myself. Not all of us are neckbeards, I promise!)


On certain sites
if your log-in is right
You will find the creepy and desperate.

They're so dismayed
that they'll never get laid.
Must be 'cos all women are against them.

Loveshy -- they sleep alone tonight.
Women just ignore the loveshy.
Loveshy -- all females out of reach.
Scaring them away, it's loveshy.

You could sympathize
With all these poor guys.
They are sad and badly damaged.

But save your tears,
When a lady appears,
They say "bitch, make me a sammich."

Loveshy -- they sleep alone tonight.
Women just ignore the loveshy.
Loveshy -- their dicks are in their hands.
Wanking's all they get, it's loveshy.

They're so afraid,
They will never get laid
Without some form of payment.

They're bitter jerks,
Typing bitter words
From their parents' basements.

Loveshy -- their dicks are in their hands.
Wanking's all they get, it's loveshy.
Loveshy -- all females out of reach.
Women just avoid the loveshy.
Women just avoid the loveshy.
fierynotes: Picture of Discord. (discord)
About five years ago, the Mormon Church spent over twenty million dollars in my state in an effort to ban same sex marriage. A lot of this money came from out of state, i.e. from Utah. At the time, I said some harsh things about the people in my state who supported the ban, as well as some harsh things about Utah. "Taking a giant shit on my state's constitution" might have been one of the phrases I used.

And now, those horrible ebil gay people are getting married in the Mormon Church's own backyard. I realize that for some members of this church, it feels like your world is ending, so some tact and delicacy is called for here.

With that in mind, SUCK IT, JOSEPH SMITH! I hope Hell came into existence just long enough to welcome you in, and I hope it involves elements of the theater scenes from A Clockwork Orange, as well as lots of gay porn.

Sorry. That was mean. Have some pie.
fierynotes: Picture of Arsenal, from DC comics, who clearly sees something he likes. (leers)
See this movie (NSFW!)?

It's aimed at the straight porn-addicted market. The sequel will be aimed at the gay male porn-addicted market. It will include a character named "Phil-'im-up Robertson," and the first scene will show him saying offensive things about gay people, but a few hours later he'll be thinking of hot guys and vigorously massaging his own prostate with a duck call. In at least one subsequent scene, he'll take two dicks in his ass at once. Two dicks and a duck call, if he's really ambitious.

Now, I should point out that I'm straight (mostly), and that my interest in porn is minimal -- a lingering side-effect of having done web design work in that field. That said, if this porno ever comes out for real, I will buy it.
fierynotes: Picture of a B diminished 7th chord (B, D, F, A flat) followed by an inversion, in flames. (Bdim7)
Dear Fleshgod Apocalypse,

It seems you have your own brand of pasta and wine now...

As much fun as it was to watch your video (and it was totally adorable that your drummer used a pad instead of a drum because he has a small child who was asleep)... couldn't you have started with your own brand of coffee, first?

[personal profile] fierynotes

PS: if you'd been selling the pasta when I saw you live, I would have probably bought it just because it seems like a fun thing to have. Not sure about the wine, though...
fierynotes: Picture of a B diminished 7th chord (B, D, F, A flat) followed by an inversion, in flames. (Bdim7)
I no longer work in retail. When I go into retail spaces, I make a point of blasting my mp3 player into my ears. (Lately, the latest releases by The Faceless, Fleshgod Apocalypse, and Shade Empire are all in my rotation. They're all amazing, if you like your music to rip your face off.) I haven't thought of how much I hate Christmas music all month, all because I've successfully avoided Christmas music...

Oh, crap.

The following displays of Yuletide contempt are brought to you by the marginally tone-deaf sax player outside one of the BART stations I use, who has recently taken to playing two bars of a Christmas carol, followed by two bars of a different Christmas carol, followed by two maore bars of yet another Christmas carol, and so on. His sax case has money in it, which implies that people actually give this ass-clown money for being an annoying, tone-deaf prick.


Nov. 30th, 2013 07:55 am
fierynotes: Picture of Daimon, from Marvel comics, without a shirt.  'Look at me, I have muscles!' (flirty)
If you like ladies and think that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints needs a good stiff slap in the face, you might want to click this link (NSFW!).

If you like gentlemen and think that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints needs a good stiff slap in the face, you might want to click this link (NSFW!).

Me, I'm just delighted that these sites -- and hopefully many more like them -- exist. Some institutions have faces that desperately need to be slapped. And honestly, if you're shocked that women have things like breasts under their clothes, or that gay men exist, I refer you to Mae West's sentiment that people as easily shocked as you need to be shocked more often.

(This post was brought to you by Google, and a lack of basic impulse control on my part. Some day, some snoopy-ass is going to look at my search history and be perplexed at all of the seemingly random shit that has accumulated in it.)
fierynotes: Picture of Daimon, from Marvel comics, without a shirt.  'Look at me, I have muscles!' (flirty)
A couple of days ago, I played a fun and hilarious game called Deadwood Studios with friends. It's a game in which all the players are actors doing terrible Westerns with even more terrible lines.

Maybe this says awful things about me, or the company I keep, but we all had the idea of adapting this concept for other genres at pretty much the exact same moment.

Samples of new concept cards under the cut. The mechanics will make more sense if you're familiar with the original game, but the concept will still be obvious. )
fierynotes: Picture of Daimon, from Marvel comics, without a shirt.  'Look at me, I have muscles!' (flirty)
Below are two pictures of the actor Jason Momoa. You might remember him from Stargate: Atlantis, Game of Thrones, or the remake of an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie that I've never seen, but I'm not entirely convinced it needed to be remade. While he's definitely not in bad shape in either picture, he's undeniably softer in the photo on the right.

If you're a woman (or a man who bends that way), you might be drooling at one or both of these pictures. If you're a tabloid writer, you might be looking at the photo of the right and typing up a dramatic story about how he's going to die of teh dethfats¹. If you're Perez Hilton, you might be writing about his dethfats, and in addition doodling a penis or two aimed at his face in MSPaint².

I'm a mostly-straight gymrat, so I see something different here.

That picture on the left is what our culture currently pushes as the male ideal. For most men, it's really fucking hard to achieve. In addition to a few lucky rolls of the genetic dice, it takes a considerable time investment (one that's out of the reach of most of us) and dedication to a certain kind of eating habits (again, out of most people's reach). And even if you do achieve it, it takes effort to maintain it. And even if you're always working on it, the cycle of bulking and cutting means that it won't always look that way.

Currently, I look like a skinnier version of the picture on the right. I'd like to look like the picture on the left (though obviously much paler), and I'll work toward that end. But I'll keep both pictures in mind, and I won't beat myself up if I don't make it there. And honestly, I get enough out of my exercise routine, both physically and emotionally, that my time and effort won't have been wasted just because I fail at looking like a statue.

And obviously, as always, I won't be judging people who don't achieve this ideal (or the female one), or people who feel that their time could be better spent on other things.

    1. Historically, female actors are much easier pickings for this kind of hack job. Still, there are a few tabloid writers who consider talking about male actors getting a bit soft to be a daring innovation. I could have made this post with two pictures -- one hard, one soft -- of Channing Tatum instead of Jason Momoa, and I have seen that kind of tongue-clicking about him getting pudgy.

    2. I'm not saying Perez Hilton has done this, but honestly, who would be surprised if he did? I'd go look, but that would involve me actually visiting Perez Hilton's website, and honestly, I'd want to soak my computer in bleach afterward. Besides, I don't want to give that shitheap hits.

fierynotes: Picture of Destruction, from the Sandman series, reading a book and slinging a guitar. (Default)
You know you've been on the net too long when when you see a video like this (NSFW!) and guess from the title that it's going to be a completely G-rated clip involving live poultry.
fierynotes: Picture of Hotstreak, from the cartoon Static Shock.  He looks annoyed. (annoyed)
Okay, kids, let's gather 'round the campfire. I'm going to tell you a spooooooky story.

Once upon this time, there were these two camp counselors, named Ace and Gary. They were both full of football, red meat, and passion for their wives, and they loved the little tykes in their care. Anyway, they were at summer camp with a bunch of kids, about to dress up for Halloween...

What? No one trick or treats in the summer? Um. This is in the little town of Gravity Falls, so it's actually Summerween. But they still dress up and collect candy, so my point stands. (Whew.)

Anyway, the little kids were all dressed up as cute, adorable little vampires, ghosts, frankenstein monsters, and whatnot. Gary was dressed up as a seventies cop -- Ponch or Jon, I forget which -- and was just putting on the finishing touch: a seventies wig.

But! Little did he know that the seventies wig he put on was CURSED! Strange unfamiliar desires came over him, and before he knew it, he was undoing Ace's pants with his teeth and sucking his dick! Aaaaaaaaaah!

(This spoooooooky story was brought to you by an overactive imagination, an unhealthy dose of sarcasm, and exposure to this unlikely artifact.)

Item #: SCP-1069

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1069 is currently stored at Warehouse [redacted], with appropriate warnings of its effects. No further containment is necessary.

Description: SCP-1069 is a wig mimicking a common men's hairstyle in the seventies. Its only anomalous feature is creating strong homosexual desires in adult men who try it on. In other tests (see Log 1069-217-███), it creates compulsive fear of catching cooties from same-sex peers in underage tests subjects. No further testing is authorized.

Dear Amazon,

A gay wig? Really?

[personal profile] fierynotes


fierynotes: Picture of Destruction, from the Sandman series, reading a book and slinging a guitar. (Default)


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