the word of the day is "oi"

[ekaterinn]

First things first: Happy Birthday, bejiin! I've known you for almost ten years now, a very long time indeed, and I'll always buy you coffee and play video games with you, even if you persist with the rest of the universe in making me writing Regency-era Bring Back Black fic. *grins* Love you!

And, oi, my job suckth the most today. I had to make drinks and take a test to be certified as a barista today, in spite of the fact that 1) I have been working at the bookstore coffee shop for eight months now and 2) my last day of work is April 30th. *makes face* Much love to my boss Michelle though, since she bought me Cadbury Creme eggs to try to make for my sucky day. Mmmm, sugar high...

Oi, half of my flist is talking about genderfuck and the other half is talking about the Libs. Therefore, I cannot be held responsible for this:



Carl woke to the sound of someone saying over and over in a high-pitched voice, "Boobies! Boobies!" In hindsight, he should just rolled over and gone back to sleep right then and there. But his back hurt like a football hooligan had stomped on it and the only thing he could think of over his pounding head was shit, he's still high?

"Boobies!"

Carl groaned. With ease of long practice, he manged to squint his eyes open wide enough to see what was directly in front of him, but not wide enough to hurt. Though he wouldn't have arsed to if he knew what he was going to see. Where the fuck did we get the fake tits anyway? Why does Pete have them stuffed down his shirt? And for fuck's sake, why is he bouncing? Pete giggled in a pitch that was reserved for Japanese schoolgirls and Carl winced. "Oi, Pete, stoppit," he mumbled, carelessly waving a hand in Pete's direction.

Big mistake.

Pete jumped onto the bed, and before Carl could make a move to defend himself or even curl up into a ball and hide, Pete clambered on top of him, crooning, "Boobies, booobies..." And Carl realized in those few seconds, that, one, his chest felt strangely heavy, two, that Pete didn't seem to be holding up his tits with his hands anymore, and three, he couldn't feel his cock. There was something else where his cock should have been, and how the fuck do you you misplace a cock and pick up - it's not like picking up the wrong set of keys the end of party, he thought wildly.

But by then Pete had climbed on top of him, his dilated eyes staring into Carl's panicked ones. He pressed his chest against Carl's and kind of rubbed. Then he (she?!?) said, in a distinctly huskier tone of voice, "Boobies."

Comments

[narie.livejournal.com]

Oh dear god. You f'list is crazy and I bear absolutely no responsibility for that, none at all.


Heeee!! I love the "it's not like picking up the wrong set of keys the end of party" line

[ekaterinn.livejournal.com]

They're all crazy! I'm like either write some genderfuck or stop talking about it already! Sheesh. You're responsblie for the fact Pete and Carl have taken perment residence in my head though!

Heeee!! I love the "it's not like picking up the wrong set of keys the end of party" line

Thanks! I'm almost tempted o post this on alblion_fic or something...

[narie.livejournal.com]

Haha, you're totally sinking fast, if you've gotten to the albion_fic part already! I love it. I'm like a terrible virus. ;)

Having Pete and Carl take permanent residence up in your head can be a bit of chore at first, but after a while you get used to it. Just make sure Pete doesn't make too much of a mess...

[amai.livejournal.com]

I Know Who I'm Voting For. (http://www.livejournal.com/users/shanchan_cc/48843.html)

I know it is late but I thought it was funny. XD

[ekaterinn.livejournal.com]

*dies* Hilarous! I want an alcemist america!

[ekaterinn.livejournal.com]

*laughs* Seriously thinking about it - I could use with a laugh, cause today was seriously crap. *makes face*

*needs libs icon*

[narie.livejournal.com]

Aw, was it really that shit? I had an emo breakdown around 5 pm, but I recovered satisfactorily, thank goodness for that. Is there anything I can do to help?

You do need a Libs icon. Everyone needs a Libs icon, really. I would offer to make you one, but I'm really shittastic at icon making, sadly. Though if you find a pic you like I can try cropping it...

i'll fight like hell to hide that i'm giving up

[ekaterinn.livejournal.com]

*sighs* It's been a shit week, actually. I missed a chance to get tickets for the advance Serenity screening, becuase of my stupid tendency to stop and think, instead of fucking act for once. *bangs head on wall* And, oh, I'm just tired and everything is a mess and I need to talk to pepole on the phone before I go traveling and I hate talking to people I don't know that well on the phone. And I'm sad and cranky and pissed off (mostly at myself, but still) and people are being bitches, gah.

/vent

Sorry about all that - I'm afraid I'm not very fun to be around right now!

Re: i'll fight like hell to hide that i'm giving up

[narie.livejournal.com]

:( I'm sorry to hear that, it does sound like you need some time to relax *hug hug*

I completely understand about the phone, though, I've had emails to write since first week that I've not gotten around to yet because they're being sent to strangers and I just can't do it, it's so terrible.

I will be around this weekend, possibly writing, so maybe we can chat at some point and try to bring some mirth back into your life by giggling at Peter and Carlos?

Feel better, eh! *more hugs*

Re: i'll fight like hell to hide that i'm giving up

[ekaterinn.livejournal.com]

*smiles* *hugs back* I'm doing okay now - maybe I'll make it though tomorrow without breaking down again, heh.

I'm usually okay with emails, though I do get a bit paranoid about grammar and spelling when I'm writing to English profs/departments - since I'm an English major, I feel like they're expecting perfection in any sort of written communication. *g* But phones are the scariest. *cowers before the phone*

I'll try to be online tomorrow night, though I'm going to be helping my mom prepare to be the house on the market and packing for my trip to Atlanta. Chatting with you would be defintely spiffy!

Oh, and I got your postcard! *grins* Loved the explantion of why you didn't write me a drabble on it. *laughs* Of course, you realise that you must actually write me a drabble now...*is evil* And you do the same thing that I do with using emoticons in print. *g* Would you like postcards from my travels this summer? If you do, you could email me your snailmail addy at ekaterinn @ hotmail.com

Thanks for all your kind words! *hugs you again*

Re: i'll fight like hell to hide that i'm giving up

[narie.livejournal.com]

God, emails are so much trauma for me, so so so much. I've got a handful in my inbox right now waiting to be replied to, and they're urgent, and I just freeze up at the thought of doing it. I'm really bad at it, I don't know why. I also have this thing where looking people in the eye makes me very nervous, so my gaze shifts all over the place all the time, I'm told it makes me look rather shifty.

But yay you're online and so am I -- so let's chat a bit.

I've forgotten some of my excuses for drabble writing, but I do recall I promised porn, didn't I? I make absolutely no real promises, because I am terrible at keeping them, but I will see if you can't get 100 words rated at least R out of me...

And I would love postcards! Only that I have no address for the summer yet, what with this whole being abroad thing -- but I will give it to you as soon as I have it!

*hug hug*