AHAHAHAHAHAHA, someone called Evelyn Evelyn "ableist".

Post of rage to come soon. Expect the resurgence of the warning wank! Expect me to be An Asshole On The Internet! But remember, it's not an act, because I'm also an asshole in real life!

I mean, if taking an art project that purports that the creators are conjoined twins who lived in the circus until recently as NOT a statement of ableism is being an asshole in real life, then yes, I am a goddamn asshole.

Things I will not do, part the billiontyeth:

I will not dress as Johnny Depp's movie roles for Halloween.

I will not wear a Mad Hatter hat, a Sweeney Todd wig, Willy Wonka goggles, Jack Sparrow coat, Edward Scissorhands hands (or face makeup), and Inspector Abberline's trousers, and call it good.

I will not do this because the pants will be boring, and the shoes will be impossible.

Really, I won't do this. Honest.

I had to renew my extra userpics in order to use this icon. That's not a commitment or anything.

Hurrah, four day weekend! And, oddly, it looks like it MIGHT ACTUALLY BE A WEEKEND. Holy crap, y'alls.

Monday, I bought 9 bottles of beer. I added it to the approximately 10 already in the fridge, and thought to myself, "no more beer until you DRINK SOME." I did not have enough ROOM for all the beer.

Today, I went to get groceries for my portion of Thanksgiving dinner - minted beetroot salad and challah and maybe Turkish Delight if I get really excited. I also bought a sixpack of Smirnoff Ice, because I like to drink girly drinks for Thanksgiving and Christmas, because if I'm not slightly drunk, there will be blood on the track, and it won't be mine.

I forgot: a) no more room in fridge; b) the yogurt I need for the salad.

GO ME.

Also, I seem to be stuck in an infinite loop of Lady Gaga, and I have really got no explanation for this, except that I think she might actually be quite skilled at putting music together. I'm not into the weirdass clothes (though I do like the McQueen Alien Hooves) but ... the music, it does not make me bleed.

I'm thinking I might do some furniture Jenga in the next while. No idea where I could move ANYTHING to - it's pretty crammed in here, but maybe I can swap a bookcase and the chinchilla cage - because Spencer STARES AT ME WITH HIS MAD, RED, BEADY EYES.

And finally, I seem to have fallen into a pit of Monty Python, Alan Rickman, Eddie Izzard, and Terry Pratchett, and I CANNOT FIND MY WAY OUT. I'm not sure I WANT to, really. But it IS mildly disturbing.

Desire to have someone actually make me do things like get off the couch and go to class + desire to watch John Cleese-centric Monty Python skits + presence of various uniforms in many John Cleese skits = apparent desire to have John Cleese follow me around and shout me into doing things.

And then of course I think of the Hitler In England sketch, and it just all goes pear-shaped.

But would it not be marvellous? I heart John Cleese, I'm really kicking myself that I decided I couldn't afford to go to his show when he was here recently. On the plus side, he'll likely be touring again soon, given the terms of his divorce settlement, and I'm never averse to profiting off of human misery.

Lizard-brain is squealing that it wants to sew something awesome and Victorian, so I guess I'm doing Mrs. Lovett for Halloween 2010? I haven't yet decided on a dress, though I kind of like the "main" dress she has. Also, it has red bloomers.

HOMG. So, in case I thought that Ask Mat could get no better, with Mikey Way guest-starring on it this week, next week is William Beckett.

I ... don't know what to do with that. Except take a cold shower. A really cold shower. With some ice in it. I mean ... seriously? Just cover yourselves in whipped cream and get out the handcuffs now, boys!

Ladies and gentlemen, today I will commit cosplay.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

The dress is the wrong one, because I have procrastinated long enough on the right one that there's no way it's getting done, so I'm buying one, and I'm still open to better suggestions, but that said ... tonight, I go as aspiring mobster Vicky-T to a birthday party.

Everyone will know that it's my baseball bat that hit them.

I find the current attention on "Ardi" hilarious, given that A. ramidus was discovered back when I was actually still in high school; I referenced the find in a paper I wrote my senior year.

I graduated in 1995.

Haven't really looked into the articles yet; I know that he moved classifications a couple of times, but I don't have the faintest why it's taken them 14 years to get enough together to suddenly have a major media presence.

Okay. The massive The Academy Is... music spam. Based on my experiences with the Massive MCR Post, which, btw, I keep updated, though I'm not reuploading files except on request, I am not defaulting this post to include mediafire links. I'm lazy, what can I tell you? Ask if you want 'em.

Again, same rules apply. I make judgement calls based on whether I know you, the age of your LJ, the interests of your LJ, and what you request from me. I reserve the right to refuse to upload anything if I don't like the way you look.

There is a lot less here than there is there; I've never really seen a live recording, for example, and TAI doesn't really seem to get kind of all over the place the way that MCR does. That said, if you have something I don't have here, I'd love to swap for it, and if you have everything I have here, talk to me about other songs. Right now I'm pushing 9000 songs in my iTunes.

The fact that I have noted that there is only one song I know of that I'm looking for doesn't mean I know them all; if you know of something I don't, please let me know even if you don't want to trade.

( Under The Jump )

And so the great cycle has turned again; I have the sudden, urgent need to have a Mat Devine gracing my living room. This is based on the latest blog of his, which I find even more fabulous than usual. I'm sorry, Gerard, Bill, Gabe - I'm going to have to forsake you all. Don't forget not to write.

I'll keep him next to the shamrock plant, by the little bookcase. I think he'd look fab there. He can even wrap himself in my silk afghan.

In other news, I'm debating getting my other wrist tattooed because, well, I want another tattoo, I can probably do it for about $150, and I kind of really want to post to literarytattoos to point out that I am not an English major, and I do not read such high-flying literary works as produced by authors such as Toni Morrison, F. Scott Fitzgerald, or William Faulkner and think "God, I need a tattoo of THAT," nor do I think that I need to demonstrate my logophilia by going absolutely bugfuck nuts with tattoos of really ludicrous things that are going to look like ass in five years.

Literary Tattoos: the latest "female bisexual college student".

But I tell you what - as soon as I have a job again, my dragon tattoo (which I have FINALLY decided should go on my upper back in all its glory) and the mice tattoos are happening. I have a list of things I get to buy when I have truly disposable income again, and they're on it. I probably would be smart to start pricing for going over all my other ones, all of which could use some cleanup and support now that I'm older.

It's sort of freaky to realise that I've had the tattoo on my back for TWELVE YEARS. HOW? But from everything I hear about it, it could use some touchup. If that's even entirely possible; apparently it's done some stretching. Alas, when I was twenty, I thought I would remain the same size essentially forever, unless I got pregnant.

I'm working on a wikidot theme (by working on it I mean I've now cleaned the bedroom and just need to make the bed and vacuum, and cleaned the kitchen except for cleaning up the sewing table, sweeping and taking out the recycling, and made coffee, and then pizza) and I am NOT working on a statistical analysis of what everyone who did that meme in my last post says in theirs, but rest assured that I find it absolutely fascinating and unsurprising that there is so much similarity between responses, and not least of all because there's no statistical outliers there - every person who's done that is friends with me (obviously) and also with apiphile so there's a lot of common personality there, but still. It's pretty interesting to me, in a casual-research-method sort of way, to see how similar we all are, and to see what I think of as the elegance of the answers.

ALSO. apiphile is recommending that everyone read Watching The English, which I intend to pick up since it's at Borders and I have a $5.00 credit at Borders and because the subject sounds fascinating. I recommend, in some sort of weird internet-reciprocal book exchange, The Cheating Culture, which, as I said on Twitter, is punching me in my relationship to America exactly as Three Cups Of Tea did. After the long drudge that was Nature's Metropolis and the success of Little House In The Big Woods, which I actually read because it's an extant biography of a time period and place that I'm deeply interested in currently, I was starting to fear that I actually had no more ability to read, but The Cheating Culture is making me think that this is an untrue statement.

Reminds me: I need to go poke Square 1 Books about whether they can get The Great Peshtigo Fire in or not, and decide whether I want to replace Under A Burning Sky, because all I will do is reread it and continue to be absolutely horrified at the fact that when human beings inhale superheated air, their vocal chords squeal from the contraction of the muscles as they cook. Evidently, it sounds somewhat like rubber bands. Right now, "late-nineteenth-century fire disasters in the upper Midwest" are like an immediate literaturegasm for me, evidently. "Nineteenth-century upper Midwest" is a little like porn, I guess - it'll get you there, but not without some help.

Apparently, I feel better today. I would like to quit losing bits of Italian sausage down my cleavage, though.