![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I'd wonder why my type isn't actually my type, except I suppose it's all my subconscious' way of being chickenshit and avoiding the whole actual relationship issue.
And yes, I know the tall, strong, and oh so smart and earnest really isn't best for me anyway, even should the interest by some miracle be returned. I am much too serious for all that seriousness, if you follow my meaning.
Of course, it doesn't help that apparently I am the type of assholes and jerks, albeit funny ones. (Because it seems there must be irony).
Somewhere out there, there must be some funny/earnest/smart/not an asshole combo. I wonder where.
In other news, Etienne revealed to me that, unlike his bastard brother, he doesn't like giving blowjobs. He will, but he's really not a fan. Also, he's not into restraints personally...at least not on him. He thinks he doesn't care for them on others, but as it turns out, tie up the right man and he's suddenly much more interested.
These things he reveals to me. Does he suggest a plot to me? Oh no. He wavers and waits on me for that decision. Typical.
Aging courtesan that he is. :P
Also, do you all realize how much of a Rodney Mckay I am? I mean, yes, the majority of the ladies writing teh slash identify more strongly with the nerds and geeks and we all wuv our heroes rescuing us (example one: Die Hard 4 slash) but it hits me after I smugly insult pretty much all of the SGA fandom and then call my coworkers stupid monkeys (well they are) that yes, oh my god, I am that asshole. Or maybe just that whiny guy with the man-ponytail.
Ew.
I need to stop writing novels in my head for everything. If I had written my crappy Rio Bravo slash the way I'd originally imagined it (the much hotter, angstier version) it would be about fifty pages long and counting. So stuck awkwardly between short story and novella it shall remain for all time.
And don't ever start out reading fic in a fandom that's a) award-winning and b) by Speranza. It's incredibly disheartnening to think on your own suckage, as you will inevitably do.
And um...I need to get my socks out of the dryer.
And yes, I know the tall, strong, and oh so smart and earnest really isn't best for me anyway, even should the interest by some miracle be returned. I am much too serious for all that seriousness, if you follow my meaning.
Of course, it doesn't help that apparently I am the type of assholes and jerks, albeit funny ones. (Because it seems there must be irony).
Somewhere out there, there must be some funny/earnest/smart/not an asshole combo. I wonder where.
In other news, Etienne revealed to me that, unlike his bastard brother, he doesn't like giving blowjobs. He will, but he's really not a fan. Also, he's not into restraints personally...at least not on him. He thinks he doesn't care for them on others, but as it turns out, tie up the right man and he's suddenly much more interested.
These things he reveals to me. Does he suggest a plot to me? Oh no. He wavers and waits on me for that decision. Typical.
Aging courtesan that he is. :P
Also, do you all realize how much of a Rodney Mckay I am? I mean, yes, the majority of the ladies writing teh slash identify more strongly with the nerds and geeks and we all wuv our heroes rescuing us (example one: Die Hard 4 slash) but it hits me after I smugly insult pretty much all of the SGA fandom and then call my coworkers stupid monkeys (well they are) that yes, oh my god, I am that asshole. Or maybe just that whiny guy with the man-ponytail.
Ew.
I need to stop writing novels in my head for everything. If I had written my crappy Rio Bravo slash the way I'd originally imagined it (the much hotter, angstier version) it would be about fifty pages long and counting. So stuck awkwardly between short story and novella it shall remain for all time.
And don't ever start out reading fic in a fandom that's a) award-winning and b) by Speranza. It's incredibly disheartnening to think on your own suckage, as you will inevitably do.
And um...I need to get my socks out of the dryer.
Tags: