Welcome Fellow LJers!

My name is Lu, and I am your hostess. For more about me, you can see my profile.


While you are here, please feel free to join in the squeeing about extremely neurotic yet brilliant actors, kickass dream-manipulating criminals, ridiculous boys, smartass con artists, fast-talking scientists, and psychic detectives.

Please refrain from bashing any of the representatives of these groups that I love.

Please feel free to shower me with spoilers for any show that I love EXCEPTING WHITE COLLAR AND FRINGE, because I have a policy about those two.

I don't have an automatic friending policy, but the good news! Is that if you are here for the fic (or the meta, or the icons) these are posted COMPLETELY UNFLOCKED over at my creative journal, and you are more than welcome to watch that. In fact, PLEASE DO, because if you get even a little pleasure out of what I work on, it makes me incredibly happy.

Hey, does anybody have any Natasha fic recs? I was putting together a list of Awesome Avengers Ladies fics, some Peggy, a lovely one about Maria-who-became-Maria-Stark, lots of great Darcy, some AMAZING Pepper and...one fic in which Natasha is the central point.

ONE.


That is NOT RIGHT, people, THERE HAS TO BE MORE OUT THERE

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My dad is going to Chicago on business. The people he's doing business with may have tickets to the hockey game.

DAD: I hope the tickets fall through, I really do!

ME: But Toews is back on the ice after his concussion!

DAD: ...who cares?

ME: I wish I didn't. Wave to him for me.

Originally posted by missmollyetc at All U.S. Internet Providers will be policing downloads by July 12, 2012


FUCK

My computer died an abrupt death on Saturday and I am therefore not really around :((((((((

Posted via m.livejournal.com.

Signs you were in Harry Potter fandom too long:

seven years later, you read a Hogwarts AU in another fandom, where the author's note reads "Character does not have fond memories of graduation" and your brain immediately snarls, "THERE IS NO WAY HOGWARTS HAD GRADUATIONS."


(See also: my obsession with canon-correctness. Now that I am trying to write in a COMICS fandom, this is driving me quietly mad)

Because Galentine's Day is the BEST HOLIDAY!!!!


Happy Galentine's Day
my thread

And the thing is, my hair has needed cutting for MONTHS, but I had a groupon for a place that I cleverly failed to notice is a half-hour drive away from where I ACTUALLY LIVE, so it had to wait until I could get there. I'd never been before, and will never go again--half an HOUR's drive, I am such a moron--but the guy who cut my hair was. Um. Just. Totally whackjob entertaining. In the course of washing, conditioning, cutting, and styling my hair, he told me:

~about the contact high he got at a concert last week that apparently made him crave mass amounts of Mexican food

~about his friend who owns a moving company and who is like, the Best Dad Ever, and taught his budding engineer son how to create a six-tree tree house with pulley-system ziplines between trees and working electricity from cords he made himself out of junk from the hardware store

~about this guy he knows who honestly believes in the zombie apocalypse, and lives in a pseudo-military compound with eleven billion guns and a specially designed military-issue vehicle designed to run on a special kind of fuel. He keeps enough of that fuel ON HAND to drive to Seattle, where he has a boat, which is always kept fueled enough to get him to the island he OWNS off the coast of Seattle. The specially-designed vehicle has a scoop on the front with robot arms that will cut off zombie legs, and all the windows are three inches thick except for the holes at the top where you can stick the guns out to shoot at the zombies

~about the sheriff in the small Montana town where his grandmother lives, who never arrested anybody for underage drinking, just took their keys and made them come pick up their cars at the police station with their parents the next morning. Similarly, the sheriff never troubled a man who had trained his horse to carry his dead-drunk self all the way home from the bar and lock the gate behind it.

~about his second, part-time job being the mascot for the Utah hockey team. I'm trying not to see it as a sign that I really will fall for hockey RPS. I'm...mostly failing.


MOST. BIZARRE. HAIRCUT. EVER.


(Actual HAIRCUT part...eh, okay. I wish I knew why all hairdressers, especially the ones I tell how I want my hair to curl/wave, think I should be flatironed to hell and back. I mean, it really only affects me until I get in the shower, it's no big deal, it's just...why???)