apocalypsos | (no subject)

Since yesterday, I've compiled the following list of titles for the TroNoWriMo story --

The Monsters of Minooka
The Walking Dead of Wilkes-Barre (because

kinetikatrue suggested it and ... well, really. Any excuse to write zombie attacks. :))
The Trolls of Tamaqua
The Dragons of Duryea
The Ogres of Old Forge
The Kelpies of Keyser Valley
The Jersey Devils of Jermyn
The Sorcerers of Scranton
The Necromancers of Nanticoke
The Vampires of Vandling
The Changelings of Chinchilla
The Wizards of Whites Crossing
The Alchemists of Archbald
The Werewolves of Wallenpaupack
The Goblins of Gouldsboro
The Succubi of Shamokin
The Hellhounds of Honesdale
The Leprechauns of Lackawanna
The Mermaids of Moosic
The Manticores of Manaqua
The Mummies of Mehoopany
The Unicorns of Uniondale
The Fairies of Forest City
The Banshees of Blakely
The Centaurs of Shickshinny (hey, I'm going for the alliterative sounds, not the spelling)
The Gnomes of Nay Aug
The Pixies of Penobscot

-- and had waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much fun coming up with them.

Hmm. I'm going to have to write a great big pile of stories if I want to use all those. And I do ... I really, really do. And get them published and become the next J.K. Rowling, if for no other reason if to drive the entire Northeastern Pennsylvania region insane. *giggles*

EDIT: Here's a nice article about boysex, and why chicks dig it. Well, guess what -- it turns out all of us women are off our nuts, as this man is nice enough to inform us that women don't find boysex hot. Gee, and I could have sworn I thought guys making out was hot, but that must have been my ~~very fertile, healthy, sex-starved~~ imagination.

So, if anyone wants to go here and tell Mr. Alley that he seriously needs to get out more, feel free. :)

CRUDE AND RUDE LETTERWRITER OF EDIT: You know, I probably could have written "Mr. Alley, please keep your assumptions about the behavior of my crotch to yourself, and I'll be kind enough to do the same in regards to yours," but I'm a mature grownup. :)

Erm. I may regret writing that later, but ... eh, fuck it. What the hell?