OH, LOOK! Blogger’s doing that thing where arthritic maimed snails pass it like they’re sports cars in the fast lane on the freeway! ISN’T IT WONDERFUL?!?!?!

……ne, guess you really do get what you pay for, huh? ¬_¬

Alright, I realize that technically, I have no right to say this, as I do not, after all, actually own this computer, and I do often use it to read stories that involve highly lick people of the same gender having sex with each other, and blah blah blah.

But really. DAD. Stop. Using. The. Computer. To. Visit. Amateur. Porn. Sites.

PLEASE??

Ah, me. Shibby to shit in 2.2 minutes.

I’m not asking much. Gods know I do at times, but right now, all I want is a hug, and to find the blighted things. Alright, I can’t help but wish Amelia was here, that would be positively icing, but really? Just a hug and to find what’s lost. Please? Somebody?

sounds like x japan, “endless rain”

So, I’m doing skin revisions, and it occurs to me….I’m tired. Like, so tired that I’m not entirely sure I understand what’s going on, and yet I know I’m just sitting here typing and mouse-clicking. I am so tired, that I actually just did a playlist.

A playlist, boys and girls. A motherfucking playlist. I despise playlists. I rarely use them, I abhor making them, I have no idea how to do anything even remotely cool with one, there are precisely two times when I will make a playlist. The first, is on a request skin. If the person wants one, I’ll make one. Joyfully, humming all the while, because someone was sick/wondrous enough to actually want me to make them a skin. The other time is when I’m so dead tired that Gale Harold could walk in wearing nothing but low-slung, worn-out, partially-undone button fly jeans and offer to let me take pictures of his ass and fuck me senseless, and I’d just blink at him a few times in slo-mo, push him out the door, and go to sleep.

Jeez, I am such QaF withdrawal. I need Gale. I neeeeeeeeeeeed him. Gods, he’d better be abundant tomorrow night. Abundant and naked, and there had better be Michael-kissage. Or at the very least Justin-shagging. Yum. Nekkid, nubile, simulating-sex Gale. Gods, I need to sleep, why aren’t I asleep?

Oh….I’ve decided what my domain’s gonna be. Cause I knew once, a long time ago, but I forgot it, and so I had to decide all over again. But I know now, and its pretty, and good, and sweet, and I like it. GaleHaroldsAss.com. No, kidding. No, really, kidding. Its tempting, but that ain’t it. And I’m not gonna tell anyone what it is till I register it, otherwise I’ll jinx it or something. Or something.

And has anyone else noticed Blogger making snail asses look like lightspeed lately?

For those fortunate few who remain unaware, I am violently obsessed with Star Wars. And when I say “violently” I mean that my closet is full of the bloated, mutilated corpses of those who have panned it. So you can imgaine my glee when I accidentally stumble upon the Ultimate Luke Skywalker Doll.

What makes it Ultimate, you ask, largely for your own safety. Well, folks, for one thing, most of the 12 inch dolls suck ass. The main exceptions being the aliens and anyone portrayed by a black actor. Take that how you will, all I know is the only dolls bearing more than a vague resemblance to their portrayers are Mace Windu and Lando Calrissian. The most painful of the offenders? You got it. The Luke Skywalker series. You can get him in about eight different outfits, and in every case you want to rip off the outfits, burn the dolls, and cling to your mother while sobbing, “Make the bad mens pay, mama, make them pay!”

The shining star of the LS 12-inchers, to this point, has been the original 1977 release. Sure, it looks nothing like Mark Hamill, but its cute and happy, and if you squint, you could see it maybe be his kid, or his dad. The ones in the ’90s Collector Series not only don’t look like Mark-sama, but they’re fucking hideous. I suppose I could be kind, and put it down to them simply trying to capture the shock of the Head Melt, but even the Pre-Head Melt Luke dolls are just gross. In fact, they’re worse. The Post-HMs actually tend to look like just really ugly versions of Mark. I don’t even know what happened with the Pre-HMs.

And yes, I know, he was in a motorcycle accident, whatever, his fucking head melted, get over it. I love him passionately, I think he’s talented and lickworthy, but. His. Head. MELTED. Deal with it.

But every few months I suffer from a relapse into my desire to own Every 12″ SW Doll in Existence. Or, at least, one of every character I really like, which means I’m safe from trolling eBay in search of Watto, if nothing else. My recent desire has to been to get Darth Maul, who until this point has evaded me because the goof on his tattoo pisses me off…mainly because _I_ did a better job on a plastic paint figure of him than pros did on a head at least twice the size. Menacing, people. Sith Lords are menacing, or, in a pinch, creepy. They are NOT in a constant state of surprise.

But Maul is a good boy, for he is both creepy and menacing, and teaches people to make sure your opponents are dead before gloating, as doing it the other way gets you cut in half, and then your Master replaces you with a kid in a garbage pail helmet, and you won’t get to have sex with the really tasty grieving Padawan. A good lesson, indeed. One the Sith never quite grasped, which is why they all ended up dead, and Luke went off and played hide the sausage with Wedge. Which is another reason Maul is a good boy.

No, not because he was shirtlifter. But because he led me to Lukey Goodness. *purrs* Oh, dude, people, it is…its perfect. Its fabulous. Its a Luke doll with a Decent Head! And he comes with three outfits, and a shitload of accesories, and could there BE more pics of Mark-sama on the box?? I would have sex with my brother for this. No, scratch that.

I would have sex with Carson Daly for this.