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...

No.

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 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 black sockpuppet. (footsie)
A while back, I heard that in the Star Trek universe (specifically, the novelization of the fourth Star Trek movie), sugar makes Vulcans drunk. Sadly, I first learned this under some awful circumstances -- some SJ wanker had found a piece of fanfic in which a human dating a Vulcan had given her a box of chocolates, and immediately assumed that the human was planning to get the Vulcan too drunk to be able to say no, the writer was writing rape fic, you're worse than Hitler, go kill yourself, dogpile on the rabbit, yada yada yada. But I digress...

So, sugar. Gets Vulcans drunk. Why don't more fanfics address this?

I can see it now. Lots of teenage Vulcans at a nice big house, with no parent supervision, and lots of Earthly confections. At one table, jello-shots without the vodka, because why should there be vodka when sugar will do the job already? Earth drinking games played in one room, but instead of sipping drinks, the players are munching M&Ms. In another room, more Vulcans spreading out lines of pixie sticks on strippers' rear ends and sucking the sugar off with a straw. In one corner, two Vulcans drinking from two-liter bottles of Mountain Dew Throwback as fast as they can, while everyone around them is chanting. "CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"

(I offer this bunny free to any good home that will have it.)

In related news, this and this together are currently my favorite episode of Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. About eight minutes in, Mac is running in terror from sugar... only to later embrace his inner lustful pop-monster.



    1. In all fairness, the SJW may have been right. I didn't read the story. But knowing SJWs the way I sometimes do, I'm going to assume that the worst crime the writer committed was using a box of chocolate as a romantic cliché and not knowing that sugar makes Vulcans drunk. I certainly didn't know that until recently...

fierynotes: Picture of Arsenal, from DC comics, who clearly sees something he likes. (leers)
Those of you familiar with the Star Trek Universe no doubt remember that whenever Klingons were exposed to human food, they always found it horribly bland. Meanwhile, whenever humans were exposed to Klingon food, the food always resembled the extreme end of macho pissing contests. (In particular, I remember an episode in which a Klingon tried to politely disparage a meal of delicately-flavored fish that Picard had prepared.)

Am I really the only one who wonders why some human somewhere never introduced Klingons to the habanero? I can't imagine Klingons having a neutral reaction to it -- they'd either hate it, or it would revolutionize Klingon cuisine!

Or, imagine if the first contact with Klingons had not been with someone like Captain Kirk, but with some hypothetical Captain Jagdip Bharadwaj, a kindly old man whose chicken vindaloo recipe would be considered a fire hazard in Hell? The Klingons would have a very different opinion of humans after an introduction like that!

...Someone should write that!
fierynotes: Picture of Daimon, from Marvel comics, without a shirt.  'Look at me, I have muscles!' (flirty)
(I was inspired by a lady who was talking about crossovers in her own LJ, and while she wanted to cross a couple of these streams herself, she and I went in different directions. I'm not going to attempt to write this. If anyone wants this idea, take it -- it's yours. I ask only that you write it well, and link me to the finished work.)

Once upon a time, there was a con artist named Neal. In addition to being a gifted con artist and forger, he was very good-looking. Women fainted in his presence. Gay men fainted in his presence. Straight men took one look at him and said to themselves, "women, what women?" and then, as they turned gay from momentary exposure to him, fainted in his presence. Okay, I exaggerate, but the dude was hot. You've seen him, haven't you?

Well, a year ago, he tried to take down a drug dealer. To do so, he applied for a job at a strip joint where one of the dealer's distributors was working part-time as a DJ. To complicate matters, he did what no con artist should do in the middle of a con: he fell in love. One of his fellow strippers, Richie, was a beautiful person inside and out, and it didn't hurt that he had a huge cock. (Richie was also a werewolf. This comes up later.)

The con goes wrong. Very wrong. Neal skips town, leaving Richie (who's understandably hurt, and very angry because he's missing half the facts), and trying to find help... which brings us to the bar where he meets Nathan Ford.

After many complications (Eliot will no doubt get into a huge fight with Richie, hopefully not during the full moon), and many other crossover twists (Sophie ended up pretending to be a total self-centered whackjob for purposes of conning some other guy with a huge cock in the UK a few years ago, and I'm sure with enough twisting, this can be made relevant to the plot), the drug cartel gets taken down, Neal apologizes to Richie, the misunderstanding is all cleared up and they still love each other, and the story ends with teh hawt ghay buttsexxors, because this is a crack-filled slashfic, and that's how all crack-filled slashfics end.
fierynotes: Picture of Destruction, from the Sandman series, reading a book and slinging a guitar. (Default)
After having seen a reference to "Fuck Me, Ray Bradbury" (warning: level 8 earworm) on someone else's LJ, I just googled it. That was a mistake, and I'll now have it stuck in my head for at least the next two days.

Actually, what if this is just the start of a trend? Will we next see more fan crushes expressed in song?


"Take us to bed, Spider Robinson!
We all want you more than you will know, woh woh woh...
We're here for you, Spider Robinson!
We can fuck all night and pun all day, hey hey hey..."


"Yes, Lovecraft is a little old guy
that I would love to lather-er-errrrr!
Lovecraft, baby! (Lovecraft! Baby, Lovecraft!)


"I've got really big feet and a really big bulge,
and a really big secret I have to divulge.
You might think it crazy, you might think it zany,
but I want to go down on Sam Delany."


Yes, Delany is gay, and obviously so is the fan crushing on him. There's also a drinking game about Delany, which I'm "borrowing" from [livejournal.com profile] caprine: "Drink every time he mentions feet or crotches."

No doubt I'm leaving out plenty of worthy fan crushes, but that sort of thing is why LJ invented comments!
fierynotes: Picture of Destruction, from the Sandman series, reading a book and slinging a guitar. (Default)
Someone out there needs to do a yaoi or gay porn video mashup with this song. Or perhaps this one. Or perhaps both, using the first song for the opening scenes, and the second one for when things start heating up.

Actually, I'm not picky. A lady getting double-teamed to the tune of the chorus from either of these songs, on a loop, would probably amuse me just as much. Maybe something like this (NSFW!), but with a different soundtrack...?

Nah. Needs to be all guys. It'll make more people's heads explode that way.

I'll film that one myself, one day. Right after I film that porno that has scenes with Lee Stone in a monkey suit, throwing styrofoam barrels at Ron Jeremy dressed up as a plumber...

(This music video idea was brought to you by my manager, who had a classic rock radio station on in his truck when he gave me a ride to work. Obviously, I didn't explain to him just why I was laughing my damn fool head off when they played Thin Lizzy.)
fierynotes: Picture of Jerry Springer surrounded by the flames of Hell, with the caption 'What the fucking fucking fuck?' (wft)
Once upon a time, there was a boy named Kevin McCallister, a gifted boy who at a young age had a talent for booby traps. Sadly, his was frequently neglected by his parents, and after the second time his family abandoned him, he was removed from his home by Child Protective Services.

He was a troubled child, and at one point stole some art from a museum. After that, however, he changed his name to John Kramer, and turned his amazing mechanical skills into a rewarding career making toys. Then, he was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor, and after a failed suicide attempt, his life took a new, darker direction...

Fast-forward to the present, where we find two aging small-time crooks locked in a dingy basement, both shackled at the ankles to a drain-pipe. One of them wakes up, and finds a tape recorder in his pocket, with a tape labeled "play me."

He plays the tape, and a deep sinister voice comes from the recorder. "Hello, Harry. Once upon a time, you broke into a house being guarded, and booby-trapped, by a little boy. Now, the little boy has grown up, and has a booby-trapped house of his own.

"In two hours, one of the machines here will mix a gallon of ammonia and a gallon of bleach into the sink on the other side of this basement. To survive, you and your stupid accomplice Marvin must get around all the booby traps and escape before the chlorine gas kills you. You'll find a rusty hacksaw just barely in your reach, to get you started.



"Live or die. Make your choice."

Don't mind me. I'm just on crack.


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