Oh, for fuck's sake.

It's very hard to organize a ficathon in your own personal anal-retentive needy way of doing things when your POS printer refuses to fucking work. The only thing keeping me from going all HULK SMASH is that I only just bought a new ink cartridge for it last week and goddamn it, if I have to grit my teeth and only print out a page every hour until I run out of ink, then by God I will.

On the plus side, there are apparently new Air Crash Investigation episodes on YouTube and I only just discovered them. Woohoo!

That's the perk of modding the ficathon:

Getting to pick the prompt that makes your hands all grabby. :)

That said, I finally got the damn printer to work long enough to get my usual ficathon set-up in my office, which means I should be able to get assignments sent out tomorrow. Once I get the set-up situated, it usually only takes me a couple of hours to get everything assigned exactly the way I want it - I could do it on the computer, but I'm horribly tactile and pace when I get really thinky.

I would do it tonight, but seeing as how I've got the hockey game to go to in ... uh, ten minutes, it'll just have to wait.

I kind of like my dopey brother.

Because as dopey as he does come off at times, while we were at the hockey game and discussing the Tea Partiers -- I don't know if you've heard, but they're a wee bit racist -- I found out he knows about the teabaggers, he knows who Barney Frank is, and he knows why this sign ...



... is a big pile of fail. All without me telling him.

Now I just have to teach him not to be an irresponsible nitwit about women and we'll be all set.