You know, I write a lot of weird shit. But I don't have a lot of sympathy for people who actually hurt other people. I don't get outraged about it, but I understand the difference between right and wrong and real-life and fantasy. So there. If you're ignorant enough to think that writing something is the same as wanting to do it or thinking it's real, well, whatever.
On a happier note: Leeeeeeeemurs!!!
And it's been a week since I told my dad about my gender issues... and, actually, it went pretty well. Which is why I didn't say anything previously, I guess. It went well enough that I didn't have anything to complain about here. I mean, he was startled and confused, of course, but overall supportive. He said that if someone had asked him beforehand how he would react to such a thing, he would have said he didn't know, but now he does know and he still loves me. Awww. It was, like, befitting a Hallmark movie or something. Except that it's me, which automatically negates that.
So, discussed zombies having sex and made fun of the so-called "normal" BttF fans (hint: they aren't really normal) last night with kleenexwoman. Also have been developing an idea involving lobotomized Diogenes alongside the intersexed Diogenes idea, with many thanks to ghostgecko. All while still grooving on his prostitute Pendergast ideas.
Also, I want everyone to know that the ONLY reason I am taking German is so that I can seduce Crispin Glover by whispering sweet nothings about items in the kitchen and what I want to be when I grow up in my sexy new accent. And then I'll use this talent to whisk him away from his rather creepy girlfriend and then we'll go pick up ghostgecko just in time for Valentine's Day.