greetings fellow earthlings!

[kaigou]

Oi. My flist has exploded in the past week. *shifty look at flist* Seems I've got two choices: either say hello and suggest everyone introduce themselves, or give long thought to cutting back on the attention-getting snark. Here goes. *long thought* Okay! That was hard! Enough of that.

Step right up, don't be shy, tell everyone a little about yourself, your likes, dislikes, whether you were the one who set off the fire alarm in sixth grade and just what was up with your obsession with collecting all the pine tree car freshners, anyway? We've been dying to find out. Fear not, if you confess, I will not mock! Mostly. No more than I do to myself on a regular basis, but since I'm the only one around consistently, I make for a great wealth of material. I haven't been able to pull over an embarrassing moment on myself yet. I'm still trying.

If it's easier, address Bob instead. That's my new icon, since I'm not cool enough to have any sockpuppets (I almost wrote cockpuppets but I'm not in a rockband so we'll disregard), but I'm hoping that at least having a sockpuppet icon will let me fake it for a little while. I used to have minions, but they went on strike. Wouldn't paint my house anyway, and what good are minions if there's no house-painting involved?

But you are not required to be minions! Bob does not expect this of you! Bob may bite your kneecaps, though. He has that sort of look to him. Consider yourself duly warned.

I don't bite kneecaps, or anywhere else; not my genre. The -s- in my username is for Sol, which is what most folks around here (the former minions, at least) call me, when they're not picketing. I do randomly analyze things at length, because I believe it is possible, given time, effort, and ingenuity, to find new ways to thrash just about any topic into a state of such utter submission that it might, someday, be willing to paint my house.

Or do my laundry. I'd be much happier with the laundry-doing, come to think of it. I'm rather dangerous doing it myself; after all, this is the way poor Bob ended up a widower. Poor, sad, sockpuppet-icon.

And now, it's your turn! Quick, before I am forced to have more long thoughts and produce yet another post like this one!

Comments

[muffiewrites.livejournal.com]

Hi! My name is not Muffie, but I call myself that anyway. As a scheming fangirl, I've been considering a move to something more pithy than the mundane and less than descriptive Muffie, such as ~*~DeathsPrincessShinigami~*~, but I fear that as an alto, I don't have the vocal range to pull it off. That, and I can neither write in text message-ese nor plagiarise. It's a failing, but we all have our burdens.

I write fanfic and generally delete it when I'm finished. Other than one or two percent of whatever I've got on the 'Net, I never edit fanfic. I write original works and generally wonder if I'll ever finish them. I'm like Batman, a colij stoodint by day and what I euphamestically refer to as the "editor bitch", which is like yuke bitch which no one will get unless they've been out in the field in a GP small with a yukon stove as the low man on the totem pole, by night.

I occasionally fangirl your writing, but most of the time I wonder at the sad state of literacy (also known as shrieking and stomping around). I'd like to note, for the record, that if I had a djinn to grant my wishes, I'd have the power to reach through the monitor and bitch slap anyone who decided that because it's fiction, they can skip out on research and make it up if they want to.

I also have brown hair, but that's neither here nor there.

[muffiewrites.livejournal.com]

Uh. I meant the "sad state of literacy in the morons who don't think spell check applies to them," not in you.

I wish I could go drink caffiene now.