May 16th, 2005

elijah

It's still springtime.

My nipples are staunchly perky today. They cannot be suppressed. And I am wearing a sheer shirt. Thank Christ I don't have any meetings with my uniformly male teammates.

How are your nipples?

(Jeff, from Coupling: "Only an interview? What if I panic? You know, what if I say an accidental word? There's pressure, you know, the wrong word could just pop out of my mouth by accident... Nipples!")
elijah

I'm off to the gym.

Let's celebrate.

Poll #495118 I crush your head. Crush crush crush.

"_________ love."

God is
14(6.9%)
Potatoes are
62(30.7%)
All you need is
104(51.5%)
You have killed all my
22(10.9%)

My breath currently smells like:

Diet Coke, onions, and a terrible fear
30(14.9%)
my last stolen kiss
16(8.0%)
cat-food
17(8.5%)
mouth
138(68.7%)

"You are my ______, my only _________."

sunshine
86(42.6%)
gravy
24(11.9%)
friend
6(3.0%)
alibi
86(42.6%)

In the morning, I:

panic
64(32.2%)
weep
23(11.6%)
laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and weep
61(30.7%)
roll over and punch the guy
51(25.6%)

I'm not a freak, I'm just:

special. incredibly special.
62(30.7%)
attracted to only certain kinds of mammals
31(15.3%)
terminally fannish
90(44.6%)
hairless all over, because of that meteor shower
19(9.4%)

This is all just:

hooey
11(5.4%)
a metric ton of fish
60(29.7%)
the same struggle between a sexual feeling or urge and the psychic defenses against it.
37(18.3%)
the inevitable culmination of your identification with Fox Mulder, isn't it?
94(46.5%)

Anna, please seek:

God
3(1.5%)
yet even more therapy
22(10.9%)
the Golden Snitch
76(37.6%)
over on that side of the yard, because I'm hiding from you behind this shrubbery.
101(50.0%)

You can choose only one. ONLY ONE. You choose:

twenty million dollars, after taxes
96(47.5%)
the airing of the ultimate fannish show, brilliantly written, on pay cable, with two beautiful male co-stars who fall in love and have sex for seven glorious years before the happy finale, and did I mention the monstrous amount of brilliant fan-fiction?
60(29.7%)
cupcakes. shut up.
17(8.4%)
world peace
29(14.4%)

Go away, Anna, I'm:

dead
25(12.4%)
just resting
60(29.7%)
in my bunk
86(42.6%)
crying pitifully, tormented by your inconsistent punctuation.
31(15.3%)

My pathology of choice is:

hysteria
25(12.4%)
obsessive-compulsive disorder
63(31.3%)
potatoes
79(39.3%)
love
34(16.9%)
elijah

Jacks and other things.

I may brood endlessly about whether everyone who answered "cat-food" to question #2 understood that I meant *your* breath, not *mine*.

Miscellaneous fact: In a fit of vicarious homicidal mania, I am rapidly acquiring the entire collection of Friday the 13th movies. I think this will be a big draw if I ever list a personals ad--for a certain target audience, anyway. "SWF, 36, likes bad horror movies, geeks. Can make popcorn."

Meanwhile, while making popcorn, I imagined a crossover of Jacks:

Jack Bristow is called to the SGC for some reason relating to espionage on foreign soil; the foreign soil in this case being some other planet. He is being briefed by SG-1 and General Hammond. Imagine everyone sitting around the briefing table: the members of SG-1 trying to figure out how best to tell him about the stargate, Jack sitting there in his impeccable suit, expressionlessly looking at them. Having richly experienced the limits of absurdity with Rambaldi, he is not easily surprised.

Sam: It's a technological device built by an ancient race of aliens that propagates field resonance spacetime tunneling--creating a traversable wormhole allowing for interstellar travel.

Jack: ...

Sam looks helplessly to Daniel.

Daniel, with hand gestures: Basically, it's a big doughnut-shaped gate, and you can turn it on and... [walking-fingers hand gesture] walk through it.

Jack: ...

Daniel: To other worlds.

Jack: ...

Daniel: In other *galaxies*.

Jack, stonefaced: I understand.

Daniel: I'm not sure you do, actually.

Jack O'Neill, confidingly: It takes a while for it to sink in.

Jack, staring at him: What makes you think I fail to grasp the significance of this information?

Daniel, head tilting rather diplomatically: Wellllll, most people usually get a little more excited when they learn that there are aliens. And that the Air Force is in the business of intergalactic travel.

Jack, blandly: What makes you think I'm not excited?

Jack O'Neill: Lack of...zest.