labellementeuse: gunn, cordelia, and wesley are hugging and holding microphones (they're doing drunk karaoke) (joss we hope you're helpless!)
Thing I just typed in an email and deleted:

Feel free to tell the Cult of Nice to suck it if you want. (Hm, is "suck it" a misogynist colloquialism, a homophobic one, both, or neither? Should I just have said "fuck off"?) <-- that parenthesis = my thought process constantly atm EXCEPT the moment in a meeting today where I said something incredibly ill-advised to both my bosses. And by ill-advised I don't mean coarse I mean will-really-cause drama. Sigh.


Yeah, I keep thinking that the problems at work are resolved, and they keep being absolutely dire and awful and my favourite co-worker is definitely going to quit and then I'm going to be all alone. Which is terrifying because - well, here's an example of how I feel about my workplace at the moment: I used the phrase "is he on her side?" seriously about workplace dynamics. Motherfucking ugh. I hate that kind of mindset. It's juvenile. It makes you (me) feel defensive constantly which makes you (me) over-read into everything. I don't want to bottle up and I feel like I HAVE to say something, but on the other hand, I don't know how to say anything in a professional mature way because I am so upset. Also, my workplace is ~unbureaucratic and ~egalitarian which translates into: there are no procedures for talking to people when you're unhappy with how work's going, especially when the people who are making you unhappy are your two bosses. Except one of them isn't technically your boss, but she's delegating all this stuff to you that used to be done by the person who she's supposedly replacing, except she's doing none of the shit he did (and this is not handover problems, she's been here for three months now) and it's. ugh.

It's now gotten to the point where it's affecting my life outside work. I owe [livejournal.com profile] sixth_light a beta and I'm way, WAY behind on Yuletide but I spent the weekend sitting on my sofa playing Build-a-Lot 6 and catching up on Leverage. Seriously, pretty much the entire weekend. My room needs cleaning and all my clothes are dirty. Plus, I feel useless all the time at work, and now I'm starting to feel useless outside work too. Small setbacks make me feel like bursting into tears - like the worst PMS, except it's all the damn time. I had such a moment on Wednesday night it was just, ugh. (Fortunately twitter was there for me. <3333)

I don't know. I don't know, I don't know. I want to return to my usual fandom-food-and-knitting blogging but, you guys, I'm warning you, I don't know if that's going to happen any time soon.



On the plus side, I'm getting better at making gifs.
labellementeuse: kristen stewart in a blazer & really emo eyeshadow (misc gaystew army)
I feel like such an absentee LJ-er at the moment. I'm barely commenting (but I am reading and I still love you guys, honest). I'm tweeting a lot of boring tweets, for those of you who might want to keep up with me in micro form, but the energy needed to do a LJ post - even a boring blah blah one - seems a little beyond me right now, and I also don't really have anything to talk about.

Except that's not really true, here are some things I've done in the past couple months:

- Got a job. Been in a job for a month.

- Started dating a lovely young woman. (ETA: Says it all:
).

- Read eleventy billion words of Inception fanfic. I have delicioused some of my favourites here, although I'm pretty crap at deliciousing so it's not comprehensive.

- Maybe, possibly, read a few H50 stories. I. YOU GUYS. IDK. I stand Morally Opposed to another freaking buddy cop show getting all the slash time. and I have loved some buddy cop show fandoms in my time!

- only read like three new books this year. TERRIBLE. I feel sick thinking about it. But today I got a bunch of new books out from the library - Kehua! by Fay Weldon, The Ghost Brigades by John Scalzi, Double Vision by Tricia Sullivan, Wildseed by Octavia Butler, Feet of Clay by Terry Pratchett (got to fit a re-read in there somewhere), and Natural History by Justina Robson. I'm pretty hopeful that I will be energised to read these ones, I'm excited.

I got the Justina Robson mostly because I saw it on the shelf and it's the next book to be discussed at Torque Control. After an extensive discussion of women in SF late last year, Torque Control has been doing a thing where they review and discuss the top ten SF books by women in the last decade. Anyway, I've only gotten a couple chapters in, but it's making me think a lot of things about disability, ablism, bodies, and, you know ... Anne McCaffrey's Ship series. (Also that post-Otherland short story Tad Williams wrote for Legends, "The Happiest Dead Boy in the World". That scene with Orlando's parents? Yeah.) So if anyone has any links for discussion about that I'd really love to hear them.

Anyway. I'm going to try to LJ/DW a bit more because I miss you guys. How are you all?
labellementeuse: Toph from Avatar TLA punches the air with the text 'WIN!' (atla toph wins!)
GUESS WHO HAS TWO THUMBS AND A JOB?

ffff

Nov. 22nd, 2010 09:30 pm
labellementeuse: Text-only: "Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have." (hp they love each other really (r/hr))
1. So I haven't heard about the blasted coffee job that's been taking up all my time, which means I probably didn't get it, which is sort of thrilling.

2. Because there's nothing like imminent homelessness and/or moving back in with the APs to really get the adrenaline pumping.

3. To take my mind off things I'm re-reading Deathly Hallows. What chapter (ish) does the movie stop (ish) at? Feel free to give me a nice wide range so's not to be spoilered.

4. And who would like to come see it with me tomorrow? 10 or 11 am at Reading. I feel like I may as well take advantage of being unemployed to see a movie in a nearly empty theatre so I can gasp and generally act the fangirl. Plus IIRC Tuesday is Cheapskate Day.

5. Sort of excited that I actually have HP icons this time around!

6. I find watching the stats for the blog absolutely fascinating (in the worst way). It's easy to see where some people are coming from, too: username.livejournal.com/friends is a bit of a giveaway.

7. I got my Yuletide assignment! It's a real challenge, but exciting, I'm looking forward to getting stuck in.
labellementeuse: a girl sits at a desk in front of a window, chewing a pencil (raise your voice)
So I usually submit a physical timesheet and invoice on Tuesdays, and then get paid on Thursdays. This Tuesday we got an email saying to send our invoices and timesheets electronically to our various supervisors. I did so, late in the evening (my instructions for timesheets had been 'by Wednesday midday' so I figured I was fine). Then on Wednesday there was a tangi (funeral) which most of the staff attended, so people weren't in the office for most of the day. Thursday, I don't get paid, my supervisor comes past to get me to sign my timesheet, I figure, hey, there was a tangi, everyone was away for a day, I'll be paid tomorrow. Friday: I'm not paid. I talk to my supervisor indicating that while I quite like my job, I don't do it because inactivity bores me. (That's what the Internet is for.) He calls around, says things are messed around because of the tangi (no kidding) and I should be paid early this week.

Today is Wednesday, I still haven't been paid, I consider it no longer early in the week. I write to my supervisor, he comes over and talks to me, says, oh, this has happened and that has happened and I really don't know where everything went but maybe if we get everything together now I'll be paid - but probably not tomorrow: Maybe Friday, or next week, but when this other staff member gets back in the office he'll be able to tell me for sure.

I mean, for fuck's sake. Being paid fortnightly is enough of a drag as it is. Being paid approximately once a month (and let me point out that I've been here nearly two months and have only ONCE been paid on anything resembling a regular schedule)? SUCKS.

On the plus side, maybe, having no trouble staying focused at work today, because every time I drift into staring out the window i get re-energised with a burst of intense fury.

This wasn't even what my angry post today was going to be about. (It was going to be about - what else? - John Key and his special, special ideas. 2010: Year of John Key's Really Dumb, Not Consulted Upon, Blatantly Obviously Bad Ideas That He Rams Through Anyway.I admit it's not a catchy title.) But that's been pushed to tomorrow, same bat-time, same bat-journal, your daily moment of seethe-inducing ridic from the government. (I actually work for the government, sort of, so this is even more apropos.)
labellementeuse: a girl sits at a desk in front of a window, chewing a pencil (Default)
Today I read Meg Rosoff's book How I Live Now. I have been warned of this already because [livejournal.com profile] karenhealey blogged about it, but the blurb is some of the most misleading copy I have ever read in my life. It was terrific, I really loved it.

Lately I have also been obsessively reading the Millenium trilogy, which are the Stieg Larsson books that took the world by storm (starts with The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.) They're great reading, thrillers that make you feel a little bit cosmopolitcan, although the third one is bogging down a bit into the kind of political intrigue that I like least in any kind of fiction. Also, there was one phrase which I now can't remember but it was really stupidly translated - it was clearly a direct translation of a Swedish colloquialism, like in English we'd say bunny boiler or something, and the thing that got me was there was an equivalent colloquial English phrase that would say the same thing. Oh well, I think I'm getting pickier in my old age (also, right now the job I'm in is rewarding pickiness, which is like they're indulging me in my worst habit. There are only two things I'm picky about: food and apostrophes.)
labellementeuse: a girl sits at a desk in front of a window, chewing a pencil (tui art)
[livejournal.com profile] paintmarks sent me snowflakes! Thanks hon :)

So today I started my new job, reference checker & proofreader at the Waitangi Tribunal. Because they planned for me to start actually doing my job on Wednesday, and before that basically had a bunch of style guides and one or two articles for me to read, by 1pm today I was like "doo doo doo... nothing to do!" (I mean, really.) So my boss got me started on reading this book on the Waitangi Tribunal called, um, The Waitangi Tribunal: Te Roopu Whakamana i te Tiriti o Waitangi. (Ed. J Hayward and N Wheen for anyone who wants to go look this up, which I don't know why you would want to do, but whatever.) It's basically a bunch of chapters on a bunch of different aspects of the Tribunal - history, procedure, etc. A couple of chapters compare it to other nations' methods of dealing with indigenous peoples' land rights, and one chapter was on Canada. Want to hear something really, really horrifying?

So British Columbia has been pretty slack on acknowledging that First Peoples have any land rights at all. They finally got around to it a while ago, like maybe 15 years or so, and established the BCTC - BC Treaty Commission, which is a tiny bit like the Waitangi Tribunal in, like, a few ways. Not very many. But you want to hear the best difference, and by best, I mean worst? So the BCTC is funded 8% by the federal gvt of Canada, 12% by BC itself, and 80% by... a loan to the First Peoples of BC. In fact these various tribes etc now owe CDN$177 MILLION, over about 50 claims, and NONE of the claims have been resolved - only one of them is CLOSE to being finished. The BCTC is only authorised to give out CDN$7 million per claim. Do you see what's happening here? Hi, guys... we took your land and left you impoverished and for a couple of hundred years we refused to acknowledge that you might deserve or need any kind of compensation at all, and now, hey, you can have it! But any money that we give you you're going to have to give right back to pay off the costs of us admitting that we did something wrong! Neat, huh?

-- this is all current to when my book was written, about 2003-4, I think. But even if they've fixed it since then - and I note via Wiki that it's now the British Columbia Treaty Process, but other than that nothing particularly encouraging - how does that kind of thing even happen?

Also, because I feel like it, a meme via [profile] deutscheami (of whose hints I didn't get a single answer, but never mind.)
1. Put your iPod on shuffle
2. DO NOT write down the lyrics of the first 15-20 songs to come up.
3. Describe what the song is about. Be creative.
4. Cross out the songs when your friends guess them in the comments.
away we go )

I have my interview for the publishing course at Whitireia tomorrow morning. Advice and well-wishes gratefully appreciated!
labellementeuse: a girl sits at a desk in front of a window, chewing a pencil (Default)
Of all the states I can be in, I consider the state of being bored and bookless by far the most pitiful. I tend to wander around, whining and prodding bookshelves and deciding there's nothing there that I really feel like, dammit.

Because I work at home summers, and internet access is if not more difficult at least less inviting in the home parental, I read a lot more published fiction (as opposed to fan fiction) December-February than I do any other given three months. Here are some of the books I've read since the New Year:
some old and some new ones )

Currently in my to-read pile: Idoru by William Gibson, which I picked up at a library sale; The Watchmen, Alan Moore, which I got for Christmas; Fortune's Child, by Alice Hoffman; The Solitaire Mystery by Jostein Gaarder. I am currently seeking recs in the fantasy and adult literature genres, so if you have one... *points* I direct you to the comment button. I will try pretty much anything, and don't misjudge me by the skew of the stuff above. :P

By the way, gang; about how much does lamb cost where you live? Because I occasionally read things like "lamb isn't cheap unles you live in New Zealand," and well - lamb isn't cheap here, guys. No, really. If it's relatively cheap here, it must be absolutely ridiculous overseas.

OK, stopping talking about books now (I only really do it because otherwise I get to the end of the year and I'm like, "I have read NUZZING. NUZZING this year." Which is total crap, of course, but this way I can look back and be like, oh yeah, I have read some stuff after all.) Have still not been doing much - stayed with the excellent [livejournal.com profile] megaffe for two days while my room was occupied by friends of the APs and coincidentally her parents were away. We watched a lot of Battlestar Galactica, which was great - it's a good show to watch with someone, you can stop and bitch and laugh at Kara (we mock because we adore her, truly) and all that good stuff. We did a bit of rambling over her section and up the back onto the reserve - she lives out in the eastbourne bays and it's pretty gorgeous if steep. Saw great fat keruru and lots of tui, which is always good fun - we get tui in town now but keruru never and I just think they're great.

I've also been working, and I have a brand-new coworker to "replace" [livejournal.com profile] keymash. His name is Ramsin but I shall christen him The Lump, for lo, verily he stands around and does fuck all the whole day. part of the reason I haven't posted so much lately is because if I did, it would all be bitching about Lump. Today while I was doing the sandwiches (which admittedly I hate, so I wasn't in a good frame of mind to start with) the meadowfresh order came in, which gets chucked in the bed of our NOT WORKING* fridge. I get done with the sandwiches and notice that the meadowfresh order is still out, so I look around for the invoice to mark it off.

Necessary context: almost all deliveries (there are exceptions like cookie time and fruit, but they are special cases) have to be marked off on their docket before they're put away, because everyone makes mistakes and that means delivery guys & gals, too. After the invoices are checked off they get put on the spike for Shijo or Monique to... do whatever officey stuff they do with them that makes sure things like stocktakes are up to date and all that important stuff.

So the meadowfresh order is sitting there in our - I can't say this enough - BROKEN fridge, but I can't find the docket. Eventually I figure out that it's been spiked, so I think, hey, maybe Ramsin already checked it and didn't put it away. This would be dumb, because OUR FRIDGE IS BROKEN and meadowfresh is, like, butter and yoghurt, but perhaps we'd been busy. So I check that he's ticked it off, and he's like, "No." And gives me this look like, why would I do that?

So, in brief. the meadowfresh order - which was tiny this week, a carton of margarine and a couple of crates of drinks - has come in. The Lump has signed for it, spiked it without checking it off, and then let it sit there mouldering** while he... stood around at the counter doing nothing.

ARRRRGH.



*this is pain in the ass enough, because we had to take all the milk and dairy out of it. We put up big signs that said OUR FRIDGE IS BROKEN. WE HAVE A SUPPLY OF MILK BEHIND THE COUNTER. SORRY. but, of course, we still had to deal with fifteen thousand people who can't read a fucking sign and kept coming up to the counter to say "no milk, then?" You might not think this sounds so bad, and it's not the first time, but the twentieth time in a row - I am so not exaggerating, we sell a lot of milk in the mornings - you just want to smack them and say LEARN TO READ.

**lest you fear for your health: it's not as bad as it sounds because the fridge was at about 6 degrees, which is one degree too hot for milk but probably won't hurt marge, and the drinks were all stuff that's fine at room temperature. But it could have been yoghurt, is what I'm saying. He didn't know because he hadn't opened the box.
labellementeuse: a girl sits at a desk in front of a window, chewing a pencil (bestfriends4evah!1!!)
Some Things About Working in a Starmart in the Middle of Wellington, As Opposed to a Caltex in the Suburbs of Christchurch, Which Make Me Happy:

8. Selling alcohol again (and being sent for my liquor license. Eeexcellent.)

7. Knowing where everything is and being able to give directions. (HOLY CRAP, you do not realise how much it sucks not to be able to asnwer these kinds of questions until you can't.)

6. Only selling one cup of our hideous coffee a morning because everyone buys coffee that doesn't TASTE LIKE SHIT.

5. Being 0.2 seconds away from food that is not pies.
     5a. A Subway on every corner!

4. Being able to play CDs instead of listening to ZM 1000000 hours a day.

3. Things to look at out the window that aren't cars and boring suburban houses.
     3a. Bearded Maori men in corsets.
     3b. Goths.
     3c. Hare Krishnas!

2. Working with [livejournal.com profile] keymash.
     2a. Harassing [livejournal.com profile] keymash about her music.
     2b. Playing "Once More with Feeling" really really really loudly and trying to guess which customers recognised it (at least three this morning!)
     2c. Talking about television shows I actually care about (See: Supernatural, Heroes, do not see: Shortland Street, Survivor)

1. No petrol, therefore NO FUCKING DRIVEOFFS. \o/

YAY, EVERYONE.

Also! Saturday was Armistice Day, and I missed it for the first time. Please go look up your favourite Wilfred Owen or Seigfried Sassoon poem and re-read it.
labellementeuse: a girl sits at a desk in front of a window, chewing a pencil (Default)
Note to self: watching the last two episodes of Angel S5 for the first time is probably not a smart thing to do ten minutes before heading off to seven hours in retail hell. It makes you want to kill things with a sword, rather than smile and be cheerful to assholes.

Needless to say, the first ninety minutes of my shift were such a suckfest I lost my squee within moments of entering the building.

CARFUL OF TEENAGERS: *pulls up to pump 4, pumps gas*
SHOP: *is way too fucking busy, because dumbass manager is too cheap to pay enough people to cover a shift adequately*
TEENAGERS: *come in one by one, all get separate purchases*
TUI and DEAN, your friendly CSRs, to each TEENAGER: Have you got fuel with that? *smile*
TEENAGERS: Nah!
CARFUL OF TEENAGERS: *leaves*
TUI and DEAN: *clear the 20-person queue in record time*
TUI: Hey, Dean, where's pump 4?
DEAN: Did you not charge any of them?
TUI: The girls? nope. I did ask them, though.
DEAN: Crap.

Time passes, it is still extremely busy. There are several cars on the forecourt.

IDIOT: *walks up to desk, stares at TUI, says nothing.*
TUI: Hi! How are you?
IDIOT: Good, you?
TUI: ... good!
There is an awkward pause.
TUI: *makes wild guess* Oh, you have fuel? Are you $80 on #4?
IDIOT: Yup! *pays using Caltex card. You can't give cash out on a Caltex card, which means they are unforgiving of transaction errors.*
TUI: Bye now!
NOT AN IDIOT: Hi! I'm $80 on #4!
TUI: *looks out window, sees IDIOT getting into #3, which has $98* FUCK. Sorry, sir, there's been an accounting error, one second! *sprints out to IDIOT* Hi, sir! You told me you were $80 on #4, but you're $98 on #3! You need to come in and make up the difference for me!
IDIOT: HAHAHA! I didn't even listen to you! Hah!
TUI: Ha. Ha. Ha.
TUI: *processes about twelve different transactions between IDIOT and NOT AN IDIOT, including doing things you're TECHNICALLY NOT SUPPOSED TO DO with the till, like MANUAL FUEL SALES*
HUGE LINE OF CUSTOMERS: *gets twitchy* *thinks very clearly that TUI is incompetant*
IDIOT: *leaves without apologising*
TUI: *seethes* *is very fucking competent, thanks.*

More time passes!

DEAN: *goes on ciggy break*
TOTAL BITCH: *walks into store* *in very insulting, rude tone* Are you not selling gas today?
TUI: *is confused because, hey, there are three other customers in the store who don't appear to have had any problems* Uh, yes? Are you having difficulty pumping gas? If you'll give me five seconds to help this gentleman I can be out to help you!
TOTAL BITCH: I WENT TO TWO DIFFERENT PUMPS AND NEITHER OF THEM WORKED. Don't bother, I'll go somewhere they're prepared to do their jobs! *storms out*
TUI: *gobsmacked* *glances at screen* *sees that there's 20c on pump 3 and 30c on pump 6* THAT FUCKING BITCH WAS TOO DUMB TO REALISE SHE WAS ACTUALLY PUMPING AND JUST STOLE FUCKING PETROL. (A totally tiny amount, but it's the principle of the thing.)
DEAN: *comes back from break*
TUI: Man, you'll never guess what this horrible person just did!
DEAN: Jeeze, get over it, you need to not stress the small stuff!
TUI: ARGOMGWTFDKJASLJALKASJKASL *beats head against counter, causes concussion, is taken to hospital and doesn't have to work the next five and a half hours of her shift*

Okay, that last line is pure fantasy. But that-all happened within eighty minutes of my walking in the door. The morals of the stories are?
- PAY FOR YOUR PETROL.
- pay for YOUR petrol.
- don't be a bitch and then not PAY FOR YOUR PETROL.

I also was treated to the radio saying "And this week in the news. On Monday, newspapers revealed that Helen Clark's husband is in fact gay.* *kills things* *with a sword* *with Gunn's giant hubcap axe* *with my BRAIN*

teeny bit of blather about Power Play and Not Fade Away )

In conclusion! Joss: Still funny, still a bastard, still awesome.

And finally! I am on the lookout for a couple of songs: I Fought the Law and the Law Won, by... I forget, There is No Depression In New Zealand by um, I think it's the Blam Blam Blams? and Jesus Walks by Kanye West. Will swap for whatever, just say the word.
labellementeuse: a girl sits at a desk in front of a window, chewing a pencil (Default)
The following text is taken almost verbatim from my work this evening.

Scene: reasonably quiet petrol station of the multinational flavour, about ten o'clock. Staff: one (moi), young woman of the cheerful persuasion, willing to go the extra mile for her customers (some of this is a lie.)

CUSTOMER OF THE 30 YEAR OLD MALE PERSUASION: *walks in* Can I get a gas bottle* filled?
*I don't know what these are called outside NZ... LPG bottles? Anyway, you plug them into barbeques or heaters or small stoves. They contain a flammable gas. Filling them entails me leaving the store and going outside to the pumps (leaving the store unattended.) For this reason, many petrol stations won't fill after a certain hour. But my station is *special* and more concerned with sales than with the safety of its staff, so we fill them 24/7. This is not too bad as long as customers come at a quiet time, as this one did.
FRIENDLY LOCAL CREWMEMBER (hereafter FLC), IE ME: *checks forecourt; it's quiet* Sure, I can do that for you now, sir.
CUSTOMER & FLC head outside to the filling station, set up, etc. CUSTOMER leans on car, observes FLC.
CUSTOMER: So, how old are you?
FLC: (Mildly surprised, only slightly skeeved) Uh, 19.
CUSTOMER: Ah, quite young!
FLC: (Jokily) Oh, not so young!
CUSTOMER: Hm. Have you heard of Jesus?
FLC: (slightly more skeeved, but maintaining even tone) Ah, I'm sorry, I'm atheist.
FLC clearly expects this to be the end of the subject. And a note: CUSTOMER appears to be a foreigner, although his English is really pretty good; he sounds to FLC more like a first-language English speaker from a country where other languages are also spoken, like India or, I dunno, parts of Africa or Canada or something. His next remark is therefore surprising:
CUSTOMER: Ah, atheist. What does that mean?
FLC: Um, I don't believe in any god.
CUSTOMER: (Clearly warming to his subject)But don't you find that something of a risk? You know, it doesn't matter whether or not you believe in God; He believes in you!
FLC: (Thinking: so if it doesn't matter, why don't you shut up? But retaining polite tone, because I am an *excellent* retail worker) Um, it's a risk I'm willing to take, seeing as how I don't believe in him.
CUSTOMER: [something I've forgotten about heaven, etc]
FLC: well, you know, I don't believe in that. But I'm sure if he does exist and I die and I show up there, any good God will understand that I've lived a pretty good life. (This is true! Today I fetched water for an old woman in the haemotology clinic. Good deeds for all! ;))
CUSTOMER: (In the tones of one playing a trump card) Ah, but you see, that's not enough for Jesus!
FLC: (Shutting down LPG fill, which has finished; STILL with polite, even cheerful tones) Well then he's a pretty bitchy god.
FLC walks back to store, followed by CUSTOMER after he's put the bottle in the car and gotten his wallet. It is a measure of the extent to which the FLC is pissed off that she didn't put the bottle in his car herself.
FLC: (smiling) That'll be $19.50, thank you!
CUSTOMER: Ah, maybe I've tempted you a little bit, huh?
FLC: Um...
CUSTOMER: Well, think about it, okay?
FLC: (Thinking: NO. FUCK OFF. In tones of great finality:) Have a good evening, sir.

ARGHOMFG. Okay, look, there are a lot of religious people who I know and respect and love. But believe me this method of attempting to convert me wil not ever work and will merely confirm me as more stalwartly atheistic. It's also THREATENING. DON'T FUCKING DO IT. I'm a young woman working alone until 11 pm; I've left the store to fill your bottle; I'm actually kind of at your mercy. PISS THE HELL OFF WITH YOUR EVANGELISTIC CRAP, and oh, here's a hint, if someone identifies themselves as atheist, what they mean is I'm not interested.

*sigh* I should have just kept repeating "atheist!" in gradually riding volume until he got the message, I know.

spoiler blether about AtS 4x13: Salvage (the one where Faith shows up. Is there really a point spoiler-cutting for an ep this old? I already knew everything that was going to happen in this season when I watched it the first time through last year... )

Profile

labellementeuse: a girl sits at a desk in front of a window, chewing a pencil (Default)
worryingly jolly batman

October 2017

S M T W T F S
1234567
8 91011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031    

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Oct. 20th, 2017 05:01 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios