"Satan Free Blog!"
Feb. 23rd, 2007 11:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
home_and_away(No lie; it's what I thought I read at the top of the window before I logged in. "LiveJournal--Satan Free Blog!" Nono... "start a" Start a free blog. ~shakes head~ Long day.)
So.
Our Lady of Interesting Times has finally figured I'm far enough removed from the action to do her justice without getting too mean about it.
She's looked at me and winced at the Kali-bits and the Blessed-Virgin bits, and a smokey, whiskey scented voice murmured "You know who she is, and neither of these girls is her. Do it right, now."
I know who she is, alright:
She's the best friend your mother never liked who taught you how to think for yourself and see past the skin. And wear eyeliner.
She's the cute girl in your English class who's the reason you're locked in your car in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a crazy pack of rednecks, one of whom is trying not to shout when he says "Just roll down the window, man; I just want to talk."
She's me, from 13 to (indistinctly mumbled age), getting in over my head and learning new and interesting skills on a regular basis.
I know who she is, and so do you.
So now I've got a lovely, curvy girl dancing a la Kali-Ma and grinning a la the Mona Lisa (if Lisa had been thinking razor-sharp thoughts about DaVinci). She'll be blonde, or strawberry blonde, with black tips in her hair. At the moment, one pair of hands is pressing palms together in reverance, with a cigarette. Another pair holds a book and a bottle. I've got another pair of hands to fill, and I'm drawing a blank.
Any suggestions?
(as a sidebar: Lyrics to the song du jour [du nuit?] are here.
Lyrics to the other contenders for that title are here,here, and especially here.
Echo may not be Tom and the boys' best album, and it sure as hell isn't comfortable to listen to, but it does speak.)
So.
Our Lady of Interesting Times has finally figured I'm far enough removed from the action to do her justice without getting too mean about it.
She's looked at me and winced at the Kali-bits and the Blessed-Virgin bits, and a smokey, whiskey scented voice murmured "You know who she is, and neither of these girls is her. Do it right, now."
I know who she is, alright:
She's the best friend your mother never liked who taught you how to think for yourself and see past the skin. And wear eyeliner.
She's the cute girl in your English class who's the reason you're locked in your car in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a crazy pack of rednecks, one of whom is trying not to shout when he says "Just roll down the window, man; I just want to talk."
She's me, from 13 to (indistinctly mumbled age), getting in over my head and learning new and interesting skills on a regular basis.
I know who she is, and so do you.
So now I've got a lovely, curvy girl dancing a la Kali-Ma and grinning a la the Mona Lisa (if Lisa had been thinking razor-sharp thoughts about DaVinci). She'll be blonde, or strawberry blonde, with black tips in her hair. At the moment, one pair of hands is pressing palms together in reverance, with a cigarette. Another pair holds a book and a bottle. I've got another pair of hands to fill, and I'm drawing a blank.
Any suggestions?
(as a sidebar: Lyrics to the song du jour [du nuit?] are here.
Lyrics to the other contenders for that title are here,here, and especially here.
Echo may not be Tom and the boys' best album, and it sure as hell isn't comfortable to listen to, but it does speak.)
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no subject
Date: 2007-02-25 01:36 pm (UTC)the new ink is healing better than expected. i've got a few places that are a bit scabby and sore, but aside from that, he's doing beautfully.
Well, its kinda debatable which gender is which in the Naaru, or if they have gender, but O'ros feels masculine to me. most of the Naaru do.