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You're all Adonises.
Apr. 12th, 2012 03:02 amTwig and Lunar are coming for a visit imminently, (threatening to wear Bruins shirts; I did not tell them where they would be sleeping if they did so. Hint: nowhere nice) so I am looking forward to that with joy. Regretfully, the thing they were originally coming for—the cherry blossoms—have kind of been long gone, but we'll manage to find something to do regardless. The appropriate parties should expect calls for bail by Saturday morning.
Pretty much everyone in the world of sports is in consensus that the Capitals are going to be reduced to a damp smear by the Boston Bruins in the first round of playoffs, so I'm taking a "low expectations means less potential disappointment" stance. (Of course, like any rabid fan, secretly I believe we can take the whole thing, and I'm doomed to have my heart crushed no matter how cool I play it. But basically, I'll wait until the end of the first round and then move on accordingly from there.) I apologize in advance for the flailing and rude things that will be shouted about every other team in the NHL over the next month or so, as well as any subsequent expressions of crushing despair or giddy joy. I'll try to stick anything really horrible and/or caps-locky under a cut. Consider it a test drive for the Olympics later this summer, where, since it'll be Michael Phelps' last hoorah, I plan to get really yappy. So, um. Yeah. I plan to be an asshole. I want people to know this in advance so they can avoid it. We good? We good.
In that spirit, there are four short g-chat exchanges, six links, one horribly TMI story about something I did yesterday, and over thirty pictures of various Capitals under the cut. I tried to stack the sports stuff near the back so anyone who's not into it can bail beforehand.
( Chats are about dinsosaur dongs, revenge clubs, kiwis, Hetalia, and Assassin's Creed. Links focus on fantasy art, SpongeBob, Game of Thrones recipes, and lightning scars. TMI story discusses pubic hair. Pictures include Alex Semin with a bucket on his head. GO. )
I bought a chest freezer a couple weeks ago. The justification for it was that my tiny freezer space in the fridge I have just isn't enough, and Louise fills it full of her various purchases anyway, no matter how I Tetris-arrange them in. I was afraid doing this meant another step on the road to being a responsible, mature adult (or possibly a serial killer, as this thing has total body space capacity), but my fears are somewhat assuaged by the fact that now I can buy five kinds of ice cream and still have space for all of them. Huzzah, adulthood.
Pretty much everyone in the world of sports is in consensus that the Capitals are going to be reduced to a damp smear by the Boston Bruins in the first round of playoffs, so I'm taking a "low expectations means less potential disappointment" stance. (Of course, like any rabid fan, secretly I believe we can take the whole thing, and I'm doomed to have my heart crushed no matter how cool I play it. But basically, I'll wait until the end of the first round and then move on accordingly from there.) I apologize in advance for the flailing and rude things that will be shouted about every other team in the NHL over the next month or so, as well as any subsequent expressions of crushing despair or giddy joy. I'll try to stick anything really horrible and/or caps-locky under a cut. Consider it a test drive for the Olympics later this summer, where, since it'll be Michael Phelps' last hoorah, I plan to get really yappy. So, um. Yeah. I plan to be an asshole. I want people to know this in advance so they can avoid it. We good? We good.
In that spirit, there are four short g-chat exchanges, six links, one horribly TMI story about something I did yesterday, and over thirty pictures of various Capitals under the cut. I tried to stack the sports stuff near the back so anyone who's not into it can bail beforehand.
( Chats are about dinsosaur dongs, revenge clubs, kiwis, Hetalia, and Assassin's Creed. Links focus on fantasy art, SpongeBob, Game of Thrones recipes, and lightning scars. TMI story discusses pubic hair. Pictures include Alex Semin with a bucket on his head. GO. )
I bought a chest freezer a couple weeks ago. The justification for it was that my tiny freezer space in the fridge I have just isn't enough, and Louise fills it full of her various purchases anyway, no matter how I Tetris-arrange them in. I was afraid doing this meant another step on the road to being a responsible, mature adult (or possibly a serial killer, as this thing has total body space capacity), but my fears are somewhat assuaged by the fact that now I can buy five kinds of ice cream and still have space for all of them. Huzzah, adulthood.
