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Feb. 29th, 2004
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Much like eating all my oatmeal so my mom will say YAY SAB and so I can see the pair of bears at the bottom of the bowl, I'm unzipping the ninety-seven thousand folders of fonts I've downloaded, to get to the Markus wallpaper that lurks behind.
In totally unrelated news, Michael Rosenbaum has hair in![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mimesere and jennyo's totally brand-spanking-new as-yet-unveiled "Division 16": the Not-Actually On TV Series.
*
This most recent flu-strain of insomnia's so uncool, man. Last night's all-star display put me to sleep at roughly 5-ish in the a.m., and woke me at roughly 8ish with no hope of returning to sleep. NOT THRILLED.
*
In the continuing hit parade of astonishingly average Jeremiah fic, let me offer some recent installments:
Perceptions, bycyloran is actually well above average, and takes a Mister Smith-style snapshot of my Markus with all the art of a pinhole camera. Sort of a super-sized drabble, fully G rated and lovely.
I'mhyperventilating enjoying the presence of the Hobbit folk in the Jeremiah fandom, 'cause, hell, whatever gets you in the door, long as you're in the door, and Samwise Astin has a significant and vocal fanbase that I'd just as soon coopt for our own immoral purposes.
And then. Gotta point out A Fine Pair of Asses by Orithian and Rina, with thanks togem225 for directing me to it in the first place.
This story is, um.
Just because Sithkitten's extremely cool doesn't mean everyone out there is, so I'll reserve comment on this story aside from a general act of public service warning the populace about the interminable I'm sorry did I say that out loud? ass-comparison trope that winds its way through this story, in between uncamoflaged Erin-bashing (killabeez, elynross, once is once, twice is a coincidence, 90% of all Jeremiah fic points to fanon -- might be interesting to explore why Erin gets so royally abused) and, you know, some moderately hot J/M NC-17 slash.
In conclusion, being upwards of 100k, NC-17 and J/M slashy, set in Season 2, you know, gift horse :: mouth. So. There you go.
In totally unrelated news, Michael Rosenbaum has hair in
mimesere and jennyo's totally brand-spanking-new as-yet-unveiled "Division 16": the Not-Actually On TV Series.*
This most recent flu-strain of insomnia's so uncool, man. Last night's all-star display put me to sleep at roughly 5-ish in the a.m., and woke me at roughly 8ish with no hope of returning to sleep. NOT THRILLED.
*
In the continuing hit parade of astonishingly average Jeremiah fic, let me offer some recent installments:
Perceptions, by
cyloran is actually well above average, and takes a Mister Smith-style snapshot of my Markus with all the art of a pinhole camera. Sort of a super-sized drabble, fully G rated and lovely. I'm
And then. Gotta point out A Fine Pair of Asses by Orithian and Rina, with thanks to
gem225 for directing me to it in the first place.This story is, um.
Just because Sithkitten's extremely cool doesn't mean everyone out there is, so I'll reserve comment on this story aside from a general act of public service warning the populace about the interminable I'm sorry did I say that out loud? ass-comparison trope that winds its way through this story, in between uncamoflaged Erin-bashing (
killabeez, elynross, once is once, twice is a coincidence, 90% of all Jeremiah fic points to fanon -- might be interesting to explore why Erin gets so royally abused) and, you know, some moderately hot J/M NC-17 slash.In conclusion, being upwards of 100k, NC-17 and J/M slashy, set in Season 2, you know, gift horse :: mouth. So. There you go.
I have the world's largest Hobbit-induced headache over here, and don't know whether to blame the fact that I haven't slept or the entire country of New Zealand. Still, go LotR.
Me, I love Billy Crystal, and this ridiculous industry notion that anyone other than him should host the awards is bogus. It's his stage, he built this house!
I also still love Owen Wilson and his ridiculous nose and his stoner cowboy vibe and his tux and the fact that he can show up on stage and make me not hate Ben Stiller quite as much.
And despite the fact that Lost in Translation was my favorite movie of the last five years, I'm still all about Sean Penn. Because while this was by no means his best role, and while Mystic River was a creepily indulgent piece of something with bad Boston accents in, Sean Penn is, as ever, the MAN, and deserved that goddamned standing ovation.
YAY Sofia Coppola for her screenplay win. I have a sort of megalomaniacal kindredship with her, or at least I like to pretend I do, and she's my Imaginary Best Friend the same way Markus is my imaginary boyfriend. Sometimes she and I drink coffee and smoke pot and gossip about the screenplays we're going to write. Also, we giggle about boys, but, naturally, in a very erudite and witty way, while wearing super hip clothes and driving around Silverlake with the top down.
Um. Charlize Theron's speech nearly made me cry, for reasons I'm not quite sure of but which almost assuredly had nothing to do with South Africa.
Adrien Brody is hotter than Methos.
In conclusion, for those who may have missed it the first time around, the one thing we know in Hollywood -- aside from the fact that there are no WMDs --
-- is to never get involved in a land war in Asia, and never go up against a New Zealander when Oscars are on the line.
Well, that and the fact that, for a second there, with Sean Astin so awestruck and teary, I felt the love. DON'T. TELL. ANYONE.
Me, I love Billy Crystal, and this ridiculous industry notion that anyone other than him should host the awards is bogus. It's his stage, he built this house!
I also still love Owen Wilson and his ridiculous nose and his stoner cowboy vibe and his tux and the fact that he can show up on stage and make me not hate Ben Stiller quite as much.
And despite the fact that Lost in Translation was my favorite movie of the last five years, I'm still all about Sean Penn. Because while this was by no means his best role, and while Mystic River was a creepily indulgent piece of something with bad Boston accents in, Sean Penn is, as ever, the MAN, and deserved that goddamned standing ovation.
YAY Sofia Coppola for her screenplay win. I have a sort of megalomaniacal kindredship with her, or at least I like to pretend I do, and she's my Imaginary Best Friend the same way Markus is my imaginary boyfriend. Sometimes she and I drink coffee and smoke pot and gossip about the screenplays we're going to write. Also, we giggle about boys, but, naturally, in a very erudite and witty way, while wearing super hip clothes and driving around Silverlake with the top down.
Um. Charlize Theron's speech nearly made me cry, for reasons I'm not quite sure of but which almost assuredly had nothing to do with South Africa.
Adrien Brody is hotter than Methos.
In conclusion, for those who may have missed it the first time around, the one thing we know in Hollywood -- aside from the fact that there are no WMDs --
-- is to never get involved in a land war in Asia, and never go up against a New Zealander when Oscars are on the line.
Well, that and the fact that, for a second there, with Sean Astin so awestruck and teary, I felt the love. DON'T. TELL. ANYONE.
