October 24th, 2005

facehugger

(no subject)

it isn't my fault. i am world renown for how gentle i am to my player characters. as a dungeon master, i am basically an ewok. so small & fluffy, just so. & on top of things, today was the "lets be friends, build party unity, & establish the characters as forces within the city." & well, for seven hours, they were even doing it! they were being a party & having discussions instead of arguments! it was swell! & emma found out that xocatla is a bitch, but not that big of one. she's a diva is all! & then they confronted jadobe-dao perademenzhji, panarch of the jadobe-dao cabal, suzerain of the fading urth, lord of the boiling blood, shaman of the last thought, king of the world. & while they didn't really patch things up between the jadobe-dao cabal & the itsle-shatero cabal, they at least bought off emma's debt. then they sort of ran off with buck serjeant neville stocton roe & the rest of heathcliffe's irregulars, which i half-expected. i toss out these skeletons of a story, & wait to see what they latch on to. there was plenty a-brew! so far, so good! they even all got high on xitar together, & emma got laid. everybody is having a good time! so they mount up to go save sleeping hansel & grettle from the hecate! but man, before they even get close? chaos! but it wasn't my fault. by now, everyone knows not to say..."it." they should at least! but apparently not garrick. he not only said it, he went into the hallway, then turned the cornor, then opened the door. so now...he's broken.

always broken, forever.
facehugger

(no subject)

beat my head against this wall. i keep trying to shake off this bastard anxiety. like a tick has snuggled its way into my heart. we go away for the weekend & i am much less fun than a bag of hammers. i can think of about a million hillarious things to do with a bag of hammers. a bag of hammers is in my top ten list. mostly my weekend is made by taking a test on the internet that says i am seth gecko. maybe you didn't know, but pretty much my aspiration as a "person" is to be the amalgam of the gecko brothers. on some internet websites, like friendster or whatever, i just list "seth & richie gecko" as my entire intrests list. so maybe i feel validated as a "human being." but then i turn on itunes & the first track i listen too is the one of the girl getting strangled. that always wakes me up to whats what. annie forget your gun, go get your flaming sword & i will set you about the garden. don't listen to me, i don't know or really care what i am talking about. babbling on about angels always makes me homesick, & that is the sort of yearning i want to conserve. can you believe that danielle accused me of not having a sense of humour about myself? i'm fucking drowning in humour! i'm practically delivering ice cream to children, that is how good humour i am. you want to know what i'm up to? i'll tell you what. i am going to listen to tori amos sing "space dog" & then i am going to listen to the 2001 song "jupiter & beyond." 'cause that is how i roll.
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