Oh Patrick, you say you don't know how to work the internet, but then this shows up. I have to wonder!

Also, in case of LJpocalypse, I can be reached via Gmail at stop.killer.acronyms. My AIM is "the coin tossed".

Started writing my fic for sosodirty. Will probably finish within a few days? Idk, it's pretty simple. Angst, hand, ass, cuddling.

(Is it sacrificing subtlety entirely to use lyrics from "Stinkfist" as a title? Yes? Oh well. Perhaps if I use what became of subtlety? it'll be--Morrisette irony? Or something.)

And then I have to wait to post it until February! Cripes. At least I'll have finished leatherdaddy!Patrick by then, so there will be context for the challenge fic.

Anyway. I'm going to go watch Dexter now. Yay, blood!

(Whatever TV critic decided to call this show "gruesome" was using the bad thesaurus. It is not anything like gruesome. CSI is more gruesome than Michael C. Hall gets on his redheadedest days. That made no sense at all, sorry.)

(Warning: This post contains absolutely nothing that doesn't involve men-born-men + "girly" things. Reader discretion is advised.)

1. Okay okay, so, somebody claimed a Patrick pairing and corsets for sosodirty (sign up or heyginger will send you scorpions in the mail and I might not try very hard to stop her!), and seriously. Wow. Oh my god. That is so something I didn't even realize I needed in my life. But I DO. A LOT. Even more than I need caramel soy macchiatos. And I really don't even care which end of the laces he's on. Just YES. PLEASE. IN MY FIREFOX NOW.

2. ( i also needed this without realizing it. justin timberlake is one of the ~dancers. plus beyonce is hot. and paul rudd. )

3. Tuesday is Transgender Day of Remembrance. The Vancouver event I am most likely attending is this free Cinema Politica double bill at UBC. Remembrance is free too, so regardless of what you happen to be doing on Tuesday, please take a moment to remember us, and remember that gender rights are human rights. We're not just talking about my right to choose my own pronoun, we're talking about a cisgender man's right to wear a purse if he goddamn well wants to (or carry his girlfriend's purse, as the case may be).

Guess who didn't finish the fic they said they were going to finish the other day? You only get one guess, so make it count.

( consolation prize. )

Anyway. I realized that I kind of screwed up in the disclaimer for "Can't Get Out," saying that Pete's probably never had gender dysphoria. I mean, I think that's true, but it has led to the assumption that the story is about gender dysphoria, when it's really more largely about body dysphoria, which I didn't mention in the disclaimer because Pete has totally admitted to having had body dysphoria. So.

That was totally unimportant. I was just jonesing for some pedancy, and lo, I had Post an Entry open in a tab. Whatever.

This (click the text link to "part one" first; also, his little backpack!) and these are making my day, incidentally. The Pete & Patrick Shew exists!

(Patrick apparently sounds fresh on "Tiffany Blues." I'm pretty excited for this album, not gonna lie.)

Via elfiepike:

Got Hope? Harvey Milk.

( video will commence upon click-through. )

(Incidentally--way to make a dead man [a martyr] into a liar, California! *thumbs up!*)

seimaisin and elfiepike both posted about P.Money's latest collaboration today, and really. Really. It's pretty awesome.

Let it be said: I'm not a huge fan of Kate Bush, and I don't know enough about Amanda Palmer/Dresden Dolls to make a judgment. For me, this song is like the fistbaby of Tori Amos and Melissa Auf Der Maur. And I love it, regardless of the fact that Patrick's on it.

It doesn't hurt that Kristeen Young is obviously a big, huge Patrick fangirl, either:

From the moment I first heard "Sugar, We're Going Down" I was a goner. [...] The voice (that leapt out of the speakers and wrapped itself around my entire circulatory system) not only possessed the obligatory radio-ring, but had depth, flexibility, and made all the melody choices that break your heart while simultaneously making you feel like you can conquer all.

From Popnography's post. I couldn't have said it better myself, Ms. Young.

DL here if you want to give it a shot (WORTH IT). Anyway, I need to go to bed, so I'll see y'all later.

(It's Remembrance Day. I'm a giant tool, 'cause for the last week I could not find a poppy to save my life, and also, I didn't enjoy Passchendaele that much. I remember, though, and I'm learning more all the time, more things to remember, more names and dates. That's what it takes.)

So I think I'm going to sit down and finish leatherdaddy!Patrick when I get home. It's pretty close, and everything that's not written is in my head, which is always helpful. The only way this is a bad thing is that it would mean I don't have anything already started for sosodirty (the bandom kink challenge, which doesn't actually exist yet, so be quiet about it). Sigh, sigh.

Tangentially, and irrelevantly, I think two things have been holding me back with this story.

One is my own discomfort with aspects of the Pete characterization and backstory. Or, not my discomfort, but the discomfort I can see a lot of readers having with the content, and the way I write Pete around it (content=self-injury, if you're curious). The thing is, I feel pretty strongly that the way I've written it is supported by canon, and the tone of Pete's internal stuff about it is informed by the way he's spoken about his self-harmful behaviour in the past. I'm also conflicted about how much I should warn for it. That's a decision I'll definitely be making at the last minute, based on how important the content ends up being.

The other thing is that I let myself get bogged down by the weight of expectation for this story--not just the expectations of others, but mine too. Which is a terribly pretentious way of saying y'all got excited, and I got excited, and all the ideas coming at and from my brain were kind of overwhelming, not to mention that the three people I've spoken to the most about it all seem to want different things, and I want to please them all (who says I'm not a twoo sub?). Anyway. It's supposed to be a fairly drama-free, somewhat long story in which there are both serious and silly things--my personal preference is that there be more silly things, but we'll see how it turns out--and then, after some hot sadomasochistic sexytiems with requisite misunderstandings and band shenanigans, there is a happy ending. Hopefully everybody can get behind that (previously-mentioned issue notwithstanding, of course).

Hey, wow, this entry is so freaking long. Okay. I'm gonna quit whining now. It's almost time for writing.

I am the dumbest LJer to ever LJ. Obviously, you weren't supposed to see that yet, if ever (if you don't know what I'm talking about, I'm cool with that).

This is why you should never try to proof posts at seven AM after staying up way past your bedtime the night before. Meh.

Today, in fake ascii character codes:

The librarian who took my fine payment today was stuttery and nerdy and bespectacled and plaid-wearing and in his forties and had "memento mori" tattooed on his forearm, just past his elbow. &librarians;

I bought Space: Above and Beyond on DVD today and spent about twenty minutes explaining to my partner how it kind of made my life when I was sixteen (in re-runs, obviously), and how I thought there were way more than twenty-three episodes. I can't wait to watch it again, even though it's probably crappy now. &sciencefiction;

I also got Justin Timberlake's live DVD because--he dances. And sings, and plays piano. And can has a Timbaland. &justin;

There was no Matthew Good live DVD at Best Buy. &epicfuckingfailure,bestbuy;

Basically I spent way too much money, though not as much as I would have if the MG DVD had existed where I wanted it to (I really am trying to save up for Germany, honest. It's just--there keep being things I need to buy!). I also broke one of my Sims, oops. And did some tinkering with some stories. &documentisoutofcontrolblargh;

(So where's the fic where Patrick is an abstract expressionist? I would read that story to death. &sanitywhatsanity;)

This song has been stuck in my head for four days. I turn on the radio one morning and bam, I'm in eighth grade again. I can't believe I still know all the words, wtf.

Anyway, America is the land of opportunity. estrellada and I are going to buy some (stimulating the...economy!) and go to the January Rascal's as Banamas in Ojamas. Or I am, at least (I like saying "banama." It's how I usually pronounce "banana," to be quite honest).

Andy Hurley wins the political preciousness award for this week, even though Patrick said Prop 8 passing bummed him out 'cause it's a hindrance to property and visitation rights. Ugh, adorable.

And Joe said "man up." It's a terrible phrase, but seriously. Cute.

(All Pete did was get his photo taken with my favourite Sesame Street character. Well. One of my favourites. My favourite today.)

(There's an AU where bandom work on a children's TV show, right? Or did I just have a dream about it. Hm.)

So, yeah. Laters.

eta: I also wanted to complain about how I haven't gotten any non-spam e-mails in like two days. Consider yourself complained-at.

Apparently I'm writing a fucking epic poem in response to the US election and the various anti-choice/equal marriage propositions which passed or failed last night. Awesome. Look for it at the other journal, or don't.

So the post-catastrophic climate change reunion tour fic, okay. I'm not writing it yet, because I have other things to write and it is fortunately the kind of story I can let sit (let us take a moment to appreciate these rare gems), and also because I'm still not ready to kill off Kelly Clarkson. Anyway, I bring it up because my brain decided to cough up some names for Patrick's kids, and I wanted to record them for posterity: James Taylor Stump, Zachariah Clark Stump, and Natalie Patricia Stump.

Lastly, I was wondering if anybody noticed if the On Air w/Seacrest interview got ripped? I didn't see it at TFL, and I don't have the other place on my flist, so.

It's so completely fucking Friday for me, hell yeah.

Re: The Hour. GEORGE WAS WEARING ARGYLE. Oh wow. Obviously he thinks my tattoo is a great idea. Guh.

I think I had something else to say. Probably it was about the CBC tacitly and very Canadianly endorsing Obama by not even entertaining the notion that McCain might win anywhere, let alone his home state (Hispanic voters make up this percent of the voting population in Arizona! This percent of Hispanic voters support Obama! Therefore Obama will win AZ FOREVAZ!). N'aww, Ceeb.

(Need a George icon. Need a Canadian icon. Need to go to bed before I fall asleep where I sit [see: icon]. Good night, sweet internets.)

Honestly, it's pretty awesome how, within a week, Andy and MattMixon have become (FOB) bandom's universal married couple. Behold, the power of Twitter.

If I could, I would post a picture of This Week In My Datebook (I Have A Datebook?). You would see The Hour and Dexter on today. Tomorrow is a bunch of angry/disheartened scribbling over the words "NEW FOB!!!" (priority: "FOLIE À DEUX", with an annoyed sadface), a silly doodly happy face with glasses beside "Matthew Good Live At Massey Hall physical release :DDD", and. Haha. "PRESIDENT OBAMA!!!" surrounded by hearts and fireworks. And some art stuff later in the week and possible danceytiems on Saturday, whatever.

I am so fucking serious, America. Do not let me down again. You need this. We need this. The world needs this. This is your moment to eat the lotus. Renew yourself. Be reborn. Wake up. Realize you're not dreaming into a void. You need this. I love Andy Hurley to pieces, but I've never wanted someone to be wrong more than I want him to be wrong about the future of civilization. We are better than this, America. But we can't prove it without you.

So person the fuck up and believe in the fucking change (you can be in the world) and vote your goddamn ass off tomorrow.

Uh. The end.

1. I scratched the roof of my mouth with my toasted bagel. Son of a bitch.

2. The best thing to come out of typing up all those pages was "I am in debt to the tune of a platinum record," and I don't even have anywhere to put it.

3. On the other hand, I remembered that I'd Tivoed the Leno appearance, and omfg Patrick. Stop with the hankies. I think it was black and white checks of some sort, which is safe sex. Adorable, especially since I'm 99% certain he has no clue what he's doing.

(Black, white, and [light] blue checks is safe oral, btw. An important distinction!)

4. And now I am reminded of how estrellada, moizissimo, and I started talking about flagging at the Cobras show, while we were sitting in the foyer during Hit The Lights' set. Some girl had about a hundred band names embroidered on her jeans, and TAI was on her left back pocket, etc. So I brought up the whole thing about Gerard having a red hankie or whatever tucked in the left side of his belt (guh), and estrellada lit up like a Christmas tree. And then we started talking about anal fisting (in general, not specific to anyone in bandom), which was just. Seriously. The most appropriate all-ages show conversational topic EVER, I'm sure. Good times, good times.

5. I really have to go to bed now, blah. I can't wait for the new year, which means new schedule, which means, hopefully, no more getting up at four in the morning three days in a row. *scrunchy face*

Tonight I will:

+write;
+write some more;
+have turkey, lettuce, tomato, and cheese on everything bagels. With mayonnaise;
+catch up on last week's The Hour and South Park;
+write yet more--I have like twenty notebook pages to type up, blargh. I shouldn't have let it go this long;
+figure out how we're getting to Seattle in December.

I think that's all. Happy day after all the dead people have been dealt with.

Today I:

+drove a bus;
+didn't kill anyone;
+bought second row centre balcony tickets for FOB in Seattle, whoo presale is for chumps;
+wrote a bunch of crap;
+wrote some not-crap about Patrick dating a girl Pete should've been dating, and how Pete is in love with her, and it's all pretty ridiculous; she smokes a lot and wears stupid pants and has bad tattoos and is named either Jayme or Jaymy;
+betaed a fic (I like betaing, but only when the fic is good and also short enough to do in one sitting, which is admittedly problematic);
+loled at Cobras;
+Googled argyle tattoos just to see if I'm alone; only a little bit;
+did not, in any way, get anything done on "Document." We're starting wastethesewords off very well, oh yes indeed.

Now I have to get ready to go DM at the Sin City Halloween party, ugh. The things I do for my community. Ungrateful fuckers.

I think I will be a cowboy. And maybe pack. Just 'cause estrellada went out of town this weekend. I am spiteful, don't let the shy exterior fool you.

So let's not get into my stuff about Panic(!), but I've now watched the "Northern Downpour" video, and wow. Nothing but love, 'cause it's awesome and what a great song (I've never heard it, leave me alone), and dude. Dude. Guerilla art is so one of my favourite things. Anyway.

( mgb did the mid-nineties canadian rock version ten years ago. video under the cut. )

I think "Indestructible" comes up after the video's over? Don't click on it. Seriously. Both song and video are pretty bad--and I'm not just saying that as a hypercritical jerk. Matt says so himself. If you want some more MGB video awesome, go for "Load Me Up" or "Carmelina" (eta: the DVD commentary for the latter is on Youtube too! Yay!). Fucking fantastic.

Yeah, okay. Right. The point of this post was that I will be buying Pretty. Odd., and you should watch the "Northern Downpour" video if you haven't already. The end.

Happy Halloween! I am going as someone who works in an office. Awesome.

So I was thinking I'd like to get an argyle tattoo, because I'm a dork (hardcore!), and I decided that I would justify it by getting three diamonds as a Statement in Mockery of all bad straight edge tattoos. It will go on my ankle, I think. Also as a Statement of some sort, I'm sure. Nothing to do with having permanent argyle sox.

(This design, fo sho.)

Anyway. Some combination of my partner and estrellada and I will be testing out my various tattoo hypotheses with Crayola markers.

That's all for now!

Unused material from "Stranger Things." Interview transcripts, Selma Avenue lyrics, mission statement, unfinished explication of Pete's disappearance.

Uh. There might be unironic Something Corporate quoteage. Possibly even more than once.

( you get to this point, you know, where you have to choose who you're going to be. )

The behind the scenes video for Pete and Patrick's appearance on Ryan Seacrest's radio show is incredibly precious (for reasons including Patrick looking sleepy and shaving, and having to look up at Pete during the requisite banter. I don't know. I have an unrealized-until-recently thing for height differences. Who knew).

Pete: I'd vote for Patrick Stump, and then--
Patrick: You look like the Unabomber right now; I don't know if you guys remember that [addressing the viewer].
Pete: --that's not a very nice thing to say. I was about to say that I'd run for President, and have you as my Vice President--
Patrick: Oh I'd do that in a second.
Pete: Yes, and obviously I'd be assassinated and you'd end up being President.
Patrick: I'd do that in a second, but I'm sure that when we're campaigning before, like in the primaries, I'd say all this mean shit and then have to be like, "Uhhh...he's a great man."

I'm sure it goes without saying that I'd read it. So hard. Yeah. Just go watch the video, and then listen to the interview if you have fifteen minutes you don't want to spend replaying "that's not a very nice thing to say." Because! It's cute!

In other news, I'm doing some fall cleaning of my FOB folder, and I've found some unused stuff from "Stranger Things," which I will post later on tonight (lyrics! Interview snippets! Pete's POV crap!). Or soon, actually, since Supernatural is on in half an hour.