(no subject)

[apocalypsos]

It started out as the girl I worked the machine with tonight turning to me at one point and saying sarcastically, "Thanks, Captain Obvious." My immediate response was to say in the tone of an audience for a children's show talking back to the host, "Thank you, Captain Obvious!" Then followed, "We love yoooooooou, Captain Obvious," and my personal favorite, "Captain Obvious, if I don't get a pony, I'm giving you a respiratory disorder," which wins simply for existing. (It helps if you picture me doing all of this with cute little French braids like some adorable moppet.)

In summation, the people I work with are going insane and intend on taking me with them.

When I started my shift last night I was wearing a Superman T-shirt to show off my One Ring tat and talking to my friend Jess about Supernatural fanfic. I think we should all sit back and watch as the counter on my "Days since last incident of excessive geekiness in a real-world setting" sign goes back down to zero.

This was the second night in three days one of my friends has left work for the hospital for some sort of attack. The other night it was anxiety, tonight it was asthma. I keep breaking my co-workers.

On the other hand, tonight I'm skipping out on work to ... I don't know, I'll find something worthless to do that'll be more interesting than work. Hell, there's always writing more porn to fall back on.

I'm going to go call in a personal day and head to bed. Tell me a bedtime story? *bats eyelashes*

Comments

[muffytaj.livejournal.com]

Okay, I have not slept in a long time, and am totally not with it, but I shall tell you a bed-time story nevertheless.

A long time ago, when the land was still dreaming what could and could not be, there lived a young woman who felt not.

She went to the elders, and asked them what she could do.

"I feel no pain when the knife cuts, no joy when the bird sings, no loss when my parents die." She said. "What should I do?"

The elders sat amongst themselves, and discussed her problem most earnestly. For you see, this had happened before once, long ago, and the woman who had felt nothing then had gone on to kill a tribe, just so that she could feel something. It had failed, and in the end she fell upon her own blade, simply to be free of her blank existence.

They talked long into the night, and their faces were grim by the time they had finished.

"You are not of our race," they told the woman, "the body you inhabit is not your true body, and that is why you feel nothing. You must find your true form, and only then will you be freed from your prison of nothingness."

The woman did not weep, for she felt no sorrow at the news. Instead, she bid her family goodbye, and went off into the desert to being her search.

She searched for many moons for her true form, to no avail. She followed the snakes in their winding paths, but found the scraping of the sand beneath her belly irritating. She floated through the air as a bird of prey, but the sky was too empty for her liking. She swept through the water as a tiny fish, but grew tired of the ever-constant fear of bigger fish. Everywhere she went, she could see only slow moving beasts, and emotion-filled cries.

Finally she came to a dark cave, where there was no noise, no hurrying of animals about their business, no sun scurrying across the sky, and no constant reminders of her emotionless fate. With a sigh she sat, and rested her weary feet.

"What is wrong?" One of the bats who lived in the cave asked.

She explained her plight to the bat, and how she was beginning to suspect that she would never find her true form. She talked at length about her life, and how it felt to not feel, and then asked the bat what it felt like to feel. The bat replied with long stories of the moon riding high and the sweet taste of fruit in its mouth. It described to the woman so perfectly what it felt like to live, that the woman could almost believe she had felt it herself.

"The problem," the bat said eventually, "is that you are not made of flesh and blood. You are made of stone." The woman looked at the bat, not understanding. "Stone may cry, and laugh, it is true, but only as stone. It cannot feel as a human." The bat explained.

"Then please, kind bat, can you turn me back into my true form?" The woman cried.

The bat smiled at her. "We have been talking for centuries, my child. Your false body has long since turned to dust, and in its place, your true self now resides."

The woman, woman no longer, but now a stalagmite standing tall, gave a cry of pure joy. She was stone, and as a stone she sang out into the night, ever unchanging, ever still, and ever happy.

She had found her true form at last.

The end.

HAHA wtf okay. I go bed now. *collapse*

[kanedax.livejournal.com]

You can always give us the next chunk of pairing list! *bats eyelashes*

Once upon a time there was a, um, tuna salad sandwich. And he was the loneliest tuna salad sandwich in the world.

Then one day the princess of traffic control came to visit the tuna salad sandwich.

And it was good.

The end.

[kayim.livejournal.com]

No good at bedtime stories (ask my daughter - mine always end up with me trying not to slash the Prince and the Wicked Step-father!!).

But I have three Superman t-shirts. And a Batman one. And a Batman tattoo!

[budclare.livejournal.com]

There was a piece of cheese, but then I ate it. The End.

[and-the-damned.livejournal.com]

"Captain Obvious, if I don't get a pony, I'm giving you a respiratory disorder,"


hahahahhahaha