Did I miss something?
15 Apr 2008 04:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kaigouI had to. I had to have missed something. Like, maybe a new world order or something:
I can ignore -- with only minor wincing -- the wordy awkwardness. That's the sort of thing that even damn good authors sometimes need a damn good editor to catch, and while I'm sure the editors at an ebooks publisher do work hard, there is a reason they're not working for Tor. Okay. But.
High-heeled pumps.
On a motorcycle.
Has this author never attempted to actually, oh, RIDE a freaking motorcycle? Does the author have no clue as to the fact that one's feet are busy DOING things while riding, like, say, using one's TOES to shift up/down? You might as freaking well go barefoot, and while I know some twits will ride in flip-flops, that's a far sight from a shoe that CURVES YOUR ARCH -- which means your foot, calf, and thigh are going to angled rather peculiarly to be able to shift. It just does not compute, though I imagine it could be done, it seems pretty stupid.
Which gets me to the stupidest point of all: HAS ANYONE HERE EVER RIDDEN A MOTORCYCLE IN A SHORT SKIRT?
I have, and it wasn't even black leather (which doesn't really stretch). I was, in fact, wearing a short stretch skirt, AND I was on a BMW -- not a wide-seater like a big ol' Harley -- AND the body-lean/peg-position kept my knees up higher and legs together closer than the stretch you need as the main rider. And despite wearing tight, stretchable fabric, I still ended up with that damn skirt at the tops of my thighs for most of the ride home. If you're going to straddle something, a skirt DOES NOT WORK.
Need I add, oh maybe I do for the non-riders like, say, the AUTHOR of this abrupt departure from reality, that you cannot straddle closely, as the main rider, as I could when pillion. There's this little difficulty called AN ENGINE, and the inevitably attached EXHAUST PIPES.
Tell you what, Ms. Otherwise-Okay-But-Seriously-Annoying-My-Technical-Side Author, next time you go driving your car for a good fifteen minutes, stop the car and get out. Open the hood. THEN LAY YOUR BARE FREAKING LEG OVER THE TRANSMISSION.
Yeeeeaahhh, I bet that feels REAL good, don't it.
Once you've recovered from the second-degree burns, then warm the car up again, and this time, when you get out, go to the back of the car. Lay down and prop your legs up so your calf presses good and tight up against the exhaust system.
Oh, yeah, FEEL THE GODDAMN BURN, author.
Wearing a helmet when you're otherwise wearing pretty much NOTHING is sort of like heading naked into a burning building with a wet towel on your head. So you might cut back on the risks of smoke inhalation, but the rest of you is going to be one crispy author.
The author'd better hope she never meets me at any sort of a public gathering. I just might drag her ass out into the parking lot, rip off her jeans, and strap her to CP's big honking Harley, and pin her legs to the engine chassis until she screams. She might hate me for it, but at least I'd get some enjoyment out of the day.
More than I'm getting from that paragraph's visual, certainly.
After completing the conversation [about the planned sting operation], Liza changed into a short, black leather skirt and a peek-a-boo lace top. On a whim, she ... picked out high-heeled black pumps to complete her outfit. She left her satchel at home, taking only her keys and some money in her pocket before mounting her bike. ... The spring day was mild; the evening fog wouldn’t roll in for another hour or two. Her motorcycle’s engine hummed pleasantly between her bare legs... Though she wore a helmet, the sense of freedom and control made her feel strong, powerful.
I can ignore -- with only minor wincing -- the wordy awkwardness. That's the sort of thing that even damn good authors sometimes need a damn good editor to catch, and while I'm sure the editors at an ebooks publisher do work hard, there is a reason they're not working for Tor. Okay. But.
High-heeled pumps.
On a motorcycle.
Has this author never attempted to actually, oh, RIDE a freaking motorcycle? Does the author have no clue as to the fact that one's feet are busy DOING things while riding, like, say, using one's TOES to shift up/down? You might as freaking well go barefoot, and while I know some twits will ride in flip-flops, that's a far sight from a shoe that CURVES YOUR ARCH -- which means your foot, calf, and thigh are going to angled rather peculiarly to be able to shift. It just does not compute, though I imagine it could be done, it seems pretty stupid.
Which gets me to the stupidest point of all: HAS ANYONE HERE EVER RIDDEN A MOTORCYCLE IN A SHORT SKIRT?
I have, and it wasn't even black leather (which doesn't really stretch). I was, in fact, wearing a short stretch skirt, AND I was on a BMW -- not a wide-seater like a big ol' Harley -- AND the body-lean/peg-position kept my knees up higher and legs together closer than the stretch you need as the main rider. And despite wearing tight, stretchable fabric, I still ended up with that damn skirt at the tops of my thighs for most of the ride home. If you're going to straddle something, a skirt DOES NOT WORK.
Need I add, oh maybe I do for the non-riders like, say, the AUTHOR of this abrupt departure from reality, that you cannot straddle closely, as the main rider, as I could when pillion. There's this little difficulty called AN ENGINE, and the inevitably attached EXHAUST PIPES.
Tell you what, Ms. Otherwise-Okay-But-Seriously-Annoying-My-Technical-Side Author, next time you go driving your car for a good fifteen minutes, stop the car and get out. Open the hood. THEN LAY YOUR BARE FREAKING LEG OVER THE TRANSMISSION.
Yeeeeaahhh, I bet that feels REAL good, don't it.
Once you've recovered from the second-degree burns, then warm the car up again, and this time, when you get out, go to the back of the car. Lay down and prop your legs up so your calf presses good and tight up against the exhaust system.
Oh, yeah, FEEL THE GODDAMN BURN, author.
Wearing a helmet when you're otherwise wearing pretty much NOTHING is sort of like heading naked into a burning building with a wet towel on your head. So you might cut back on the risks of smoke inhalation, but the rest of you is going to be one crispy author.
The author'd better hope she never meets me at any sort of a public gathering. I just might drag her ass out into the parking lot, rip off her jeans, and strap her to CP's big honking Harley, and pin her legs to the engine chassis until she screams. She might hate me for it, but at least I'd get some enjoyment out of the day.
More than I'm getting from that paragraph's visual, certainly.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 16 Apr 2008 09:54 pm (UTC)Which are interesting thoughts to have, and a useful way of highlighting some of the baggage I carry.
no subject
Date: 19 Apr 2008 04:29 am (UTC)I needed to clarify that no where did I accuse Bucue of racism, nor did I mean to imply it in my comment. I was more disturbed by the rough stereotype used, and that did leave a bitter taste in my mouth. Unfortunately, his doses of sarcasm (and I have dealt with him in the past) are often misplaced, inappropriate, or misdirected. I just needed to explain where I'm coming from.
no subject
Date: 19 Apr 2008 04:47 am (UTC)Most of the time I just don't reply to his posts, to tell the truth, because I don't have the time or energy or inclination to puzzle out whether his sarcasm is teasing/affectionate or if he really is that much of a limited thinker. I mean, really, bless his heart, but sometimes his attempts at nuance are as clunky as day-old porridge.
Give it a day or two, and see where things are. Dunno, honestly, but when I don't see a co-mod posting within a few minutes of a bucue-classic, I figure it's a good time to find other places to play. If I can take Bucue with limited pleasantries the rest of the time, Bucue without supervision is a Bucue who puts my finger squarely on the "okay, now I'm going to tell him exactly what I think" button, and that always ends in tears. Not mine, of course, but hey, even we bastards can have some small compassion for the little people.
Heh.