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Note: So, I have my ranty McRanty pants on today. This isn't in response to any one thing, or anything that's going on with me right at the moment.  It's just a generally incohate rambling of things that I would, in the future, like to be able to verbalize in a more elegant manner; and maybe shoving this out into the world will kick some better eloquence into my skull.


This is my body. It it not the united states of fucking America (America has a constitution. My body does not have its own constitution. Many people are citizens of America. No one is a citizen of me except ME.), which means your right of free speech and everybody gets to have an opinion don’t mean dick. So long as your opinion stays inside your cute little noggin, we’re fine. We’re cool. We’re even toasty. As soon as that opinion you have about what I should and should not do with my own fucking body pops out of your mouth or your keyboard, I have the full right to shove it right the hell back up your ass because it’s MY body, not yours.  


Read more... )
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So, [personal profile] bedlamsbard and I are going back and forth on twitter about Jeremy Irons sans pants in The Borgias. That was funny enough, but it made me think of this. So, yeah. :)


Banzai: Yeah, Be prepared. Yeah-heh... we'll be prepared, heh. ...For what?
Scar: For the end of pants.
Banzai: Why? is the price of cotton going up again?
Scar: No, fool - we're going to destroy them. And leggings too.
Shenzi: Great idea! Who needs pants?
Shenzi (and then Banzai): No pants! No pants! la-la-la-la-laa-laa!
Scar: Idiots! There will be pants!
Banzai: Hey, but you said, uh...
Scar: I will have pants! ...Stick with me and you'll never go bare legged again!
Shenzi and Banzai: Yaay! All right! Long live the pants!
juliekarasik: (Default)
Thanks to netflix, I've been mainlining the first two seasons of Sanctuary, and it's been ok. (Once I got used to seeing Amanda Tapping with dark hair... and an English accent.) We have a cute premise (see below), a supporting cast that does not suck; and plot lines that, while not scintillating, are at least snappy enough to keep my interest after a long day. (Plus, there was a zombie AU episode. Can't go wrong with that.)

But... that cute premise gets progressively less cute the longer I stare at it.

Read more... )

So, those are my thinky thoughts. I do actually like this show. It's cute, fun, and easy on the brain... so long as I don't spend too much time thinking about it. Which I apparently have.
juliekarasik: (Self portrait)

Customers:
When I tell you that your supplied artwork will not work, I am not doing it to ruin your day. I’m not doing it to give you a hard time, and I am not doing it because I hate little puppies. I’m doing it because I want you to get an acceptable end product, and the piece of crap (in this case defined as a flattened, artifact-ridden jpg) you have supplied me will not look good on press. No, really.

Also, I cannot just sprinkle some pixie dust and make it better. (Not for free anyway… my pixie dust is kinda expensive.)

Mirrored from CreateSomething

juliekarasik: (Default)
Once upon a time, I was a teeny little Mercedes Lackey fan. Forget the many different kinds of fail, which 14 year old me was blissfully unaware of. Forget the repetitive plotlines, strangely similar main characters, and self inserts that would make the kids on ff.net blush. I had just started high school and I thought her books were very cool, and the Diana Tregarde books especially so, and Children of the Night just the coolest thing ever. (A witch solves magical crimes and winds up with a vampire boyfriend. If Twilight had hit when I was that age, I would have been all over it. Just sayin'.)

But the books didn't sell that well (at least compared to the Heralds series) and at some point, some fans who apparently possessed a more fragile grasp on reality than an imaginative 14 year old decided that Lackey wasn't making up fictional stories about super powerful witches, she *actually was* a super powerful witch, or at least knew someone who really was a super powerful witch, and the Di Tregarde books were some kind of wacky Roman a Clef. Long story short, she vowed publicly that the series was dead.

So, imagine my surprise when her recent anthology has one of those never published Diana stories that my little teenage self would have really really loved to get her hands on.

I considered doing the snark and nitpicking on twitter, but this is a bit easier. So, I give you snark and nitpicking, more or less in order:
snark and wallbanging thataway... )

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Julie Karasik

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