Whose Sense Of Humor Do YOU Share?

So taking this quiz? No clue which one represented which boy, considering I work on total lack of characterization for those boys. Well, not really...but you have to study them to really go...oh, he's like that, kinda. I find I operate on instinct a lot, rather than actually studying the subject at length. Well, I do my research(although with RPS, research is kind of...heh) after the fact a lot, and sometimes I think I get it right, and sometimes I just go...oh no, that's not what he's like..180 degree turnaround. A little knowledge is necessary though, which is why as cute as alll the musician boys are, I'm not out there slashing the hell out of them. I have to know more than, Boy A : cute, Boy B : cute. Slash. Even with RPS. Giggle...okay, kinda deep discussion for mad writing of porn. But then again, if you consider someone like Krycek, and there is way way less known about him than there is about the average boybander, and even with Krycek there are limits as to where you can take him (constantly weepy and distressed because he burnt dinner for Muldycakes being somewhere. Not.) And again...really, I meant to have a point here or at least go on at length but am tired. Must. Go. Sleep.

Had planned a really long post on characterization issues, but now am sitting at table with blankie and trying to keep head from falling on keyboard. Is anyone online? Why doesn't anyone love meee? Oh with the paranoia. Heh.

Meanwhile...still have not got new Eminem CD. Am currently very sad and miserable because...Emmm! ::sob:: Oh, and my Mike wallpaper has been replaced by an Eminem one. Shock! Does that mean I'm regaining my mad obsession with him? Probably not, but the love is still there apparently.

So tired. Shall go lie down and watch CSI now.

So my friends and I are planning to rent a hotel room on the World Cup finals night to watch it. Hopefully it's on a weekend. I think it is. Sat or Sun. So whee!! Yes, because it's that important. Well no, not really. It's more of a lets get together and celebrate this beautiful game but it's actually about us getting together as friends. Well, that's how it is, anyway. :: happy sigh :: I love the World Cup.

Went to see AOTC finally. Blah blah great whatever, boring whatever.

Mace/Obi-Wan.

Because Anakin is a prat and Samuel L. Jackson and Ewan are so motherfucking cool it hurts.

So...she said she'd put out for good hooker fic. Well, so would I right about now. So we're putting out together. Any takers? Hookers. Come on.

Look! Fred wants Wes back! Rolling Stone said so. Wanting to make amends for his little indiscretion with Em no doubt. Those two wacky kids. I am way too easily amused.

The Eminem show is out!! And with special DEEVEEDEE!! waiilllll. Amazon...could I survive on bread for the next three weeks if i use my credit card? Or wait, and see if it comes to Singapore. Tower. Tower rocks. They always import the best shit ever. Fuck but i want that DVD. skips off to buy I can live on bread. Yes I can.

need to write something that doesn't feel like me trying to sound like somebody else. Only. I don't like what comes out when I'm writing the way I write. That makes no sense, but it does, in a way. Certain phrases I use. The way my characters feel and think. I want to write dreamy, melancholic pieces with delicate prose and lovely descriptions. My inner voice just ain't down with that. My inner voice sounds like Eminem on crack, or evilsnarly!Chaz. So I second guess and third guess and it all turns to crap.

Meanwhile, freewebz sucks ass, and I'm feeling lots and lots of Chaz love right about now. Must scamper off to watch them live doin' anything right now. Interviews. See if I can't find an interview. He's so cute during interviews.

I fell asleep to music yesterday. Yes, that's a big thing. I don't sleep to music, not usually. Me with the absolute silence to sleep, yo. It's different. Weird. In the morning i felt...different...heh. Oh i am such a freak.

They're sex addicts.

What
are your characters?


Quiz made by Zarah.





Congratulations. Of course, this being a completely neutral and objective quiz (bwahahaha!), there are no such things as good and bad results. If there were, however, then you'd be the winner, hands down.Your characters are thinking, having, wanting sex 24/7, and really, characterizations of full-grown, healthy men can't get any more realistic than that. For men are animals, and the instinct to reproduce is what guides them through life. Yes, that's right.

From The Face Magazine :

A record company person has bought boxes of clothes Eminem might like to be photographed in. There's a selection of t-shirts bearing silly, Toby Mott-style slogans : 'I heart groupies', 'Stop looking at my crotch' and so on. It's hoped that he might wear one that says 'I fucked a Backstreet Boy'. Eminem's manager Paul Rosenburg isn't so sure. 'I think we're over the whole Backstreet Boys thing,'he says. 'We've moved on.'

I think he might've worn a t-shirt that said 'I fucked Chris Kirkpatrick', but damn I would've paid to see the 'Backstreet Boys' one. BTW, the t-shirt he did wear was 'ask me about my penis', which I so would have, yo. He looked so pretty, oi. Want.to.lick.

~Sun

So this is my sad, sad Girl!Eminem bunny (came up with the help of Xanpet) that i'm never going to write because I can't write Emslash longer than 1000 words. Maybe if i wrote them as seperate stories. Sigh. Nope. Anyway, ignore me, I'm rambling :

- Em wakes up one morning, girl. Platinum blonde hair (real blonde, because I said so), big blue eyes, oh so very pretty, minus the tattooes. Calls Dre, who calls Paul, all sorts of drama whereby Em realizes that it's happened before, apparently to his mother, aka. the bitch that somehow always manages to screw up his life. At least according to him.
-Dre, wisely, tells him to go see Elton, because Elton, you know. Convinces him to start dressing like a girl, after he hides of course, not that it'd be hard exactly, considering how Em likes to dress in drag even without the correct anatomy.
-Goes to party! Meets Britney, who hits on him. Much confusion, because...he's homophobic, but if he sleeps with her he's gay, but then he's not, because he's a guy. Oh dear. But. No one turns down Britney, yo. So yada yada...mmm, technically femslash. Heh.
-Meets Justin the next day, aka. the beard. They're both BritandJu, very happily gay. Em snarks, Justin is amused and intruiged. Freaky, pretty blonde thing, the oddest and loveliest girl Brit has ever brought home.
-Em and Britney, kinda seeing each other. Not exclusively, but there's seeage. Em is all...I'm fucking Britney Spears, yo. Ignores Dre, who's all..'You're what?' But Em's just going with it here. Spends a lot of time with Justin, too. Because.
-Only now he's a girl, he can't see his kid or his brother. Poor, poor Em. Just when everything is going his way, life fucks him over one more time. So he's on the phone explaining to Hailie why Dada can't come see her for a while, and when he hangs up he's all crying and Justin comes over and is all comforting and stuff. Maybe they kiss, but then they both stop, horrified. Because Justin is so gay and Em is so(or so he thinks) not.
-But then Britney decides that Justin has to take Em to this party, because she can't go. Justin is all, I can't take a girl to a party when I'm supposed to be dating you, but Brit is all...let the rumors fly, so what? But Justin really doesn't wanna go because he doesn't want to be alone with Em and Em doesn't want to go for the same reason, but neither of them can say no to Britney.
-Em dresses really really pretty, and they go. Get a little drunk. Do what comes naturally, yo. Next day, more and more confusion. Justin is 'I can't be straight.' Em is 'No fucking way I'm a faggot.' Justin handles it better than Em, decides he can control his straightness as much as he could his being gay, but Em freaks.
-Only he's lonely, and he's got no one to talk to, and Britney is losing interest, and he really wants Justin. A lot. So he comes back, and there's a lot of het love all over the damned place. But of course, one day Em wakes up and he's back to being a guy. Justin is in shock, but he recognizes Em as Em, and he's all...'I can't believe this, but...hey, guess I'm still gay, huh?' Badly handled, because Em punches him out and runs off.

And then...I don't know. Not like i'll be able to write it anyway, but it's a nice idea.

So go me, I'm updating. After almost a month!! The horror!! I'm a horrible, horrible blogger. But! Look! Snippet!! Urm..my first attempt at actual 100% puppies fic. Cliches and all. Yes. Go me.

~~~~
So she goes out onto the balcony and she lights a cigarette. Not because she really smokes or anything, well she does, but Justin doesn’t like smoking, doesn’t like people who smoke. Understandable, smoking is bad for you. Justin’s not the only one that says so. Everyone says so, so it must be true. Doesn’t stop everyone from smoking though. Except for her.

She’s not supposed to. She’s supposed to be…what exactly? Somewhere between the him going ‘we can’t get married now because we’re too young’ with that panicked, trapped look on his face to the her figuring out – or her walking in on the…on them, and then she knows it’s ‘we can’t get married now because I’m busy fucking Chris my best friend my buddy my pal’, somewhere between that and that she forgets what she’s supposed to do and not to.

Because Justin sure as hell wasn’t supposed to be doing that, that’s for sure. Smoking, bad habit she picked up somewhere between the first album and the second, pretty much because she wasn’t supposed to, and she quit, too. For him.

But all that is…all that now. Past tense. So she can go out and stand there and smoke her damned cigarette and watch the gray smoke rise around her and flick ashes to the ground below and not think about what she’s not supposed to do. At least for a while.

And maybe if she lingers there long enough there’ll be a cameraman that shows up – and there’s always a cameraman that shows up – and she’ll start when she notices him and run back in, cursing and swearing and regretting the fallout almost immediately, but for that second there she’ll stand there and let him take that damned picture, if only because it might just take the heat of that whole ‘why did they break up’ mess, and for a while, like right now, because she could just as easily be doing this inside where it’s safe, she might not even care.

Doing what she’s supposed to, apparently gets her being the beard, the fucking pansy with no clue as to what is going on until it, or they, hit her right in the face, with his moaning and chanting Chris’ name over and over again; he never did that, not with her, never sounded like his world was disappearing and she was the only one there to anchor him to it.

Could have lived with it if they were just getting it off, maybe…and that’s just as sad but she knows herself well enough to know that it’s true, and that the reason might not even be that she loves Justin that much either. More like she’s in love with the image of them, of Britney and Justin, in matching clothes and so enamored with each other, the perfect celebrity couple. Golden couple.

That’s what he said, anyway. Which made it what? Her fault? She hung up the phone on him – didn’t allow him to meet her face to face after the first time and he couldn’t deny that he and Chris were so much more than just fuck-buddies or whatever. Blushed, blushed when she said ‘You’re in love with him, aren’t you?’ and ducked his head, stared at his feet like he always did when he didn’t want to answer a question. It was enough. She’d walked out then, like she’d hung up just now, and unplugged the phone for good measure just in case. Then went out to the balcony to smoke.

The white curtains are blowing at her back, and she’s cold so she takes another deep puff of the cig and gets ready to go in again; is almost certain, as she draws the flimsy material aside, that she hears the click of a camera going off.

~~~~