Second day of moving is now over. I think I held it together pretty well, except at the end when it was spontaneously decided to stop moving stuff even though there were only three things left in the truck. The excuse was that I was about to collapse, but I could've made it another couple minutes. I'm definitely not doing any more now, and I sure as hell ain't getting up at ass in the morning to get the stupid sofa chair out of the truck. I was also really pissed when we got shit out of storage. Why do we need a crib? What is the purpose of having all of these old magazines? Do we really need baby clothes at this point? And why, for the love of god, was there a box in storage that was
completely empty except for about three beads and a pen cap at the bottom? I am most puzzled.
The worst part is that we're not even halfway done. Somebody else is doing the goddamn heavy lifting next weekend, because I am going to be spending my time making out and watching the L Word. In the meantime, I'm going to make my room look pretty, i.e. like an actual room, i.e. not just a storage space for books. I have so many books. But at least I know what books I want to get rid of, unlike some people. Gracious, when is Edgar ever going to read
Catherine, Called Birdy? Never, that's when.
My muscles are super sore, so I'm just kind of flopping about in bed and listening to songs from Disney movies. Am I the only one who has thought from age 8 that Clopin from
The Hunchback of Notre Dame is a huge flaming homofag? I mean, maybe it's the puppet or the accent or, I dunno, the flamboyance, the OUTFIT, but really. What the fuck. HOMOFAGS. Also Frollo is like the proto-Fred Phelps. I admit his voice is pretty hot, but the character is creepy as all good fuck. That is so not a kid's movie. 'Murder! Sexual desire! Mutants outcast from society and mocked at every turn! Attempted rape! A horse that sits on people! Twisted religious dudes setting fire to the entire country of France! YAYYY.' Frollo's Esmerelda thing is just . . . eurgh.
And speaking of homofags, is Miguel/Tulio (
Road to El Dorado) canon? I mean, look, aside from the whole we-go-everywhere-and-do-everything-toget
her, I-must-consult-with-Miguel-and-be-turned-o
n-by-his-eyes-before-I-make-any-decision,
could-only-be-turned-straight-by-a-chick-w
ho-is-as-hot-as-Chel thing . . . 'Friends Never Say Goodbye'? 'The Panic In Me'?
Elton John? You're really trying, guys. Not to mention that whole bathing-naked-together thing. I mean, yeah, 1600s, okay, but for REAL? Couldn't you just have included a making-out scene and got it over with? But that would offend Frollo, so I guess you couldn't. Don't want to have him mad at you.
I really have nothing creative whatsoever to say other than FAGS, so I'mma shut up now and save you all from the horror that is myself with a sore back.
But I still say Miguel/Tulio is canon.
. . . Miguel/Tulio/Clopin?
CLOPIN IS UKE. I CALLED IT.
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I wish I had gotten sore in a more fun way, 'cause this just sucks.
I can barely walk and have bruises all over my legs, which I think is a mark of how fucking sadly out of shape I am. It's really kind of ridiculous. Note to self: take a fucking walk.
Feeling unaccountably depressed, as one can tell by the fact that I can't start sentences properly. Probably something to do with the impending trip and the fact that my folks will die before I relearn German enough to have an actual conversation. And everybody I talk to about it says shut the fuck up, more or less. Whatever. Too late to do anything about it now. I'll just flop around until my room is in fit condition to entertain guests and then have a week-long video marathon. Or maybe I'll read
Cat's Cradle and get even more depressed.
Incidentally, have changed mind - now believe Clopin would be seme. He has kind of a control thing. The puppets, &c. Anyways, Miguel and Tulio are pansies. Also, epic crossover pairing: Clopin/Kankurou? Trying to resist urge to write Miguel/Tulio. I am a good person, I am a good person, I will not ruin anybody's childhood, I am a good person. . . .
Have recently been prodded into interest in finishing
The Adventures of Ishtar, &c. Have lost interest in just about everything since, but perhaps will become more engaged at some point soon. Have been planning Ashtoreth/Francis aspect, but still need to research history of St. Francis and plan how their entanglement will relate to that of Crowley and Aziraphale. Plotting is way more difficult than just writing emotions. And I suck at it. Plotting I've done is below the cut; anybody with any ideas, please spill. I'll credit you or whatever. Or you can write the story. I don't give a flying fuck. (Incidentally, Ashtoreth and Francis are tiny-part characters from
Good Omens, the caretakers of Warlock. Ashtoreth is a demon who was originally the goddess Ishtar/Astarte/Inanna from Babylon/someplace/Phoenicia, Francis was St. Francis of Assissi, patron saint of cute furry things, as far as I recall.
The Adventures of Ishtar has to do with how they were totally banging.)
( Have fun deciphering this, lawl. )