Who wants to help me fuck with random asstard? *evil evil smile*

It's the full moon folks, and every time there's a full moon, I get the urge to seriously mess with someone. Random people are a plus. Random assholes? even better. :)

Perfect victim for May? This guy.


*waits for folks to read profile*


I wanna fatbomb him soooooooooooo bad. For no other reason other than it will amuse fuckall out of me. basically, next time he signs on, I want his mailbox to be filled with messages from fat girls, girlbois, boigrrls, or boys. Preferably graphically describing the performance of watersports, scat (the music, or the fetish), tit-slapping, or some other thing upon his person that's liable to make him run screaming into the Velvet Room on ArsTechnica from whence he came and complained about fat girls messaging him in the first place. Actually, come to think of it, you needn't be fat to mess with this one's head. Nothing inflammatory, mind. Just very... creative. Like maybe cutting off his testicles and using them as ben-wa balls? :) Oh, apparently he doesn't like vegans or Christians either, so if you can work in tofu or Jesus, that will be grand. I'm going for twisted, funny, and sick, not "you're an asshole" he obviously knows that well enough!

Is there a point to this? No. Is it bratty? Yep. Will it make me and everyone else scream with laughter? Oh, boyohboyohboy, will it ever. And I could use the laugh.

Wanna help? Got an OKcupid account? Yay. Leave me a comment, let me know what you said or will say. And feel free to pass this entry around. The more help I can get on this one, the better.

According to Llewellen's Witches calendar, there's a full moon today, and the color for the day is black. Awhooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

( update - what I posted is in the comments section )

( a little further explanation as to why I'm doing this using Arlo Guthrie as an anology )

*BIG wolfy grin*

After two days of rain, hot damn but suddenly the world has gone from gray to GREEN. Foliage, what a concept! And it's beautiful out, crisp and breezy, not oppressively hot like it was last week. Note to the masses, it's very challenging biking in a stiff breeze, especially in a wide brimmed hat that keeps threatening to fly off your head despite the fact that it fits very well and is quite firmly plunked onto the head.

Spiritually, I am recreating that scene in My So-Called Life where Angela dances raucously around her room lip synching to the Violent Femmes' "Blister In the Sun". For just about the exact same reason. Thank the Goddess, it's about fucking time.

Work is getting done. Amazingly. No matter what happens, I'm fucking DONE on Friday. For now anyways. Still have to clear up the little problem with my math class.

I have to wonder whether this is genuine or whether I've found the right combination of caffiene, H2O, sunshine, endorphins, sugar, and cheerily asking donkeyraping smegmachewers to donate their tanned scrotums to the cause of keeping my desk organized to keep me level and functioning. But for now, I'm not going to look the gift horse in the mouth. I'm in a raucously good mood, and I'm going to enjoy every second of it while it lasts. And now back to work.

*straps on hachimaki*

GANBARE!

How do I hate May, let me count the ways...

1. Allergies. 2. Allergies. 3. Allergies. 4. Allergies...

I've had this massively uncomfortable sensation in my left eye all day, as if there were a grain of sand stuck in it. I've spent no less than half an hour in front of the bathroom mirror combing back errant eylashes and then propping my eyelids open clockwork orange style and rolling my eyeball around looking for the source of the irritation, the efforts of which only made me look like Scott Baio gave me pinkeye. The insistant scraping against my cornea still feels very much present.

Oh lord, won't you buy me some damned Naphcon-A...

*sigh*