redwing_badger: (Kronner: Stuffing goes WHERE?)
So, I get to work tonight.

I open my laptop bag.

A ferret pops out to say "OMG HAI!"

I am all 8O "ZATA, WTF ARE YOU DOIN THAR?!"

He is all :D "HAI!"

I am all "Oh shit. Ferret at work. WTF do I do with a ferret at a hotel. WTF DO I DO?"

Zata: :D

Badger: >:\

Zata: :D

Badger: >:\

Zata: :D "...?"

Badger: >:\ "Srsly. WTF do I do with you?"

Zata: "IDK BUT I'MMA GO IN UR POCKET :D" *goes into pocket.*

Badger: :| *resigned* "Fine, I will just close you in the office if I leave... Except it is NOT FERRETPROOFED IN HERE. Ahh, wires! Holes! Little spaces for him to squeeze into!"

So he's in my pocket right now. I'm going to go to the truck in a minute and see if I have a spare crate or carrier in there. I'm sure I do, I usually have something.

EDIT: Huzzah, I had a kitty crate in there! So there's something, anyway. I can contain him, if needed. Argh, I just want to know how he got in there. Jager must've had them out of their room. *sigh*
redwing_badger: (Badger: Pride)
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There is a line between slash and fetishization, and that line gets dangerously close to being crossed 96% of the time.

I enjoy slash, obviously, I mean, I write it, but sometimes it's more a matter of "Guys fucking = hot" then it is a matter of "Guys fucking = hot, but there's more to a character than who he sleeps with." I don't mind PWP, but it doesn't *always* need to be about the sex. Sometimes you can have actual plot without gratuitous porning. You don't see a whole lot of slash fics that are just you know, little snapshots in time, two (or three, or more) men just being together, as a couple. A lot of it is fucking, which is all well and good in it's place, but it seems that lately, all the slashfic I read is either about the sex, or is leading up to sex.

If I'm going to read any kind of relationship fic, regardless of the genders of the characters involved, I want it to be believable. People interacting as people, not just as cut and paste sex objects. If two guys are going at it, make it about them, not the sex. I don't want to read fic where you can snip one guy out and put anyone else in there and have it read the same way. That just doesn't work. If it's a grudgefuck, fine, show me inside their heads and make me get why they're grudgefucking. Same thing for if they're suddenly in love forever, or anything else. I can understand a snippet of a pairing, just a one shot, with other similar fics being worked on. That's cool, I'm currently doing that with Holmstrom/Turco.

I also take umbrage at straight women telling me what I can and cannot do in bed. Not all gay men have anal sex. Sometimes we just tangle together and jerk off. Sometimes, we switch in between. Sometimes, we have terrible sex. We can have sex in missionary. Sometimes, we don't want to have sex, but we do it anyway because our partner wants it. Depending on your level of experience, you might opt to not use lube. If you've had anal sex several times, you probably don't need an intense amount of prepreparation. It all depends on the mood, and how you feel at the time. We don't always have sex in bed. We are just as fluid as anyone else is, when it comes to fucking.

And you know, we're not woobies. We don't need another person to depend on all the time. We can take care of ourselves, without a boyfriend there to hold us. Support is fine, codependance is not. Being gay does not make you incapable of being self-sufficient. A lot of us have no choice *but* to be self-sufficient, and usually from a young age. It comes part and parcel with being queer.

The trend, too, of essentially making one of the slash pair the "woman" is irritating and offensive on so many levels, and not a little misogynistic either. Not only do most straight relationships not work like that, gay ones don't either. BECAUSE HELLO THEY ARE BOTH MEN. The dynamic is gonna be different, because the combination of genders is. It's like writers just take the general conception of a hetero relationship and slot two men into those same roles. We are men, and, while there is nothing wrong with being a woman, at all, most men are not going to act like a man and woman would. The genders are different, the societal expectations of those genders are different, and the way two people of opposite genders relate to one another is generally not going to be the same way two people of the same gender will relate to one another. Isn't the typical "nuclear" hetero relationship just a Hollywood concept anyway? In my experience, Hollywood is not really a great basis for forming relationships in the first place.

How about we try to write our characters as functioning, capable adults, equal partners in the relationship, and not horrifically offensive stereotypes? I'm not trying to be the Ambassador of gay men here, I'm just trying to point out that, as a gay man, and having spoken to other gay men about this same thing, I think I have a little more basis to preach about this sort of things than the majority of the writers of slashfic out there.
redwing_badger: (Default)
Somewhere in West Philadelphia, you will find an old basketball court with a single ball lying in the middle. Pick it up and start shooting hoops. After a while, a small group of hooligans will approach you and challenge you to a fight, which you must accept.

After the fight, you must go home and relay the events to your mother. She will then inform you that you have an aunt and uncle living in one of the districts of Los Angeles, and out of fear, she will send you to live there for an indefinite period of time.

With your bags packed, go to the street corner, and whistle for a cab. The cab that will pull up will bear the word FRESH on the license plate, and upon closer inspection, novelty fuzzy dice will hang in the mirror. Although you will suddenly realize that cabs like these are extremely hard to find, do not bear any thought to it. At this point you MUST point out in front of the car and say ‘Yo homes to Bel Air’. You will stop in front of a mansion, and it will be sometime between 7 and 8 o’clock, even though it will feel like you’ve been travelling mere seconds. Get your luggage out and say ‘Yo homes, smell ya later!’, but do NOT turn back to face the cabby. Walk up to the door, look over your shoulder once, and then knock on the door three times.

If you follow these instructions, your life will get flip-turned upside-down.l
redwing_badger: (Homer: omgyay!)
Photobucket

Made by [livejournal.com profile] he_is_dead_jim

It is also my 500th LJ post, yay!

So let's have 'em. Your macros, your GIFs, your story-threads, your hockey player picspams, bring them here and we shall see how long we can keep this thing going. (I will be going to bed after the game, but I'm working tonight, so let's go :D)

Here, have [livejournal.com profile] he_is_dead_jim's Swede Mon

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And his Swede Von (I did this one lol):

Photobucket

Swede Mon, driving in a Swede von
Drivin like a mad mon
It's the motherfuckin Swede Mon!


LET'S GO :D!

Remember, the post is public, so bring friends. Don't let me down, O my F-list.
redwing_badger: (Default)
I am currently sitting in front of my computer, scared witless. Any moment now I am going to be killed.

Today a friend of mine told me a story.

His aunt had taken care of him since he was a small boy, and she told him last night about how his parents died. He did a very fair imitation of her (I knew them both pretty well):

“They were doing mission work in some nasty little south american country when a man burst into the mission hospital one night, terrified out of his mind. He told them that his sister had been killed by a Muerto blanco, and that he was certain that it was coming for him next. What is a Muerto blanco? Apparently it was some sort of bogey-man, something like that dumb chupacabra or whatever. They called it the White Death or the White Girl, because it was the soul of someone who hated life so much that they came back in their shrouds to kill those who told of them.

The man had been told about the vengeful spirit by his sister hours before her death. It was a girl with dead, black eyes that wept bile. The thing moved without ever actually moving its legs, and it stalked its victims back to their homes. Now, if you weren’t already aware that this thing was following you, once it got back to your house, it would start knocking on your door…

* Once for you skin, which she’ll use to patch her own decaying flesh.
* Twice for your muscle, which she’ll gnash her teeth on between victims.
* Thrice for your bones, which she’ll make knives to pick her teeth and kill her victims.
* Four times for your heart, which she’ll wear around her neck.
* Five times for your teeth, which she’ll polish and keep in a box.
* Six times for your eyes, which she’ll see the faces of your loved ones through.
* Seven times for your soul, which she’ll eat whole - you can never pass while you’re in her stomach.

She has to repeat this on any mirror or door between you and her.

You can try to outrun her, but she’s faster than the fastest man. And if you leave your home while she’s knocking on your door, she won’t be so courteous when she catches up to you.

Now the man was certain that this thing had killed his sister, that he had tried to tell the police, but they would not listen. Next he had tried to tell his priest, but the priest turned him away when he saw that the thing was following him now - oh, that’s right, I forgot about that - it can only get you if you tell someone else about it, or you saw it kill someone else. The man, after finishing his tale, stole a car from the mission, and was never seen again.

Apparently his mother and father had immediately called his aunt about this when it happened. They were found in the morning, skinned and dismembered. Their bodies were covered in tiny, child-like handprints.

His aunt was really drunk the night before, and had told him about that. He told me this story early in the morning today at school, before the cops arrived. His aunt had been murdered that night. I called him later that night, and he told me that he was being chased by someone, and now they were knocking on his door. I told him to stop shitting me.

He held the phone away from his face for a minute, and I could hear slow, deliberate knocking. A moment later, I heard the door rip from its hinges and the dying screams of my friend.

Then a little girl’s voice spoke over the line: “WITNESS.” I hung up.

Three minutes ago someone started knocking on my door. She has to knock 28 times on my front door, 28 times on the mirror in the hall, and another 28 times on the door to my bedroom. She’s doing it slowly… I think she wants to scare me some more, let me know that my death is just moments away. I will not run - I couldn’t get to my car in time anyway. She started knocking on my bedroom door a minute ago, she should be done any moment.

Nice knowing you guys, it’s been funjklkn;ajobvha'onb'bfbmnnnnqenooooo.....................






GIVE ME YOUR CREEPY STORIES PLEASE! Urban legends, scary stories, personal freakouts, creepypasta, anything! *gets down and begs* I'm making this post public, so yeah, you should send people over, for sure! SCARE ME :D

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redwing_badger

December 2012

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