shit, has it really been two weeks?

meme! because I feel guilty for writing the long post you guys are due when this essay is waiting for me. But rest assured, this weekend I am going to spam the fuck out of you.



Go to urbandictionary.com and type in your answer to each question in the search box, then write the most amusing definition it gives you.


( lulz below the cut )

(no subject)

Yup, I totally made an Urban Dictionary entry for Captain Oblivious. XD

Aaaand I'm still procrastinating. *sweats*

My problem is that I can actually write when I am not crippled by the paralyzing terror that I cannot write and shouldn't even bother trying. Paradox! I'm starting to realise my capacity for self-assessment is really severely affected by deadlines - I just got back my last three rush-jobs, all for Advertising. I was aiming to pass, as I always do when i leave things to the last minute, and was relatively confident that I had done so but still sweating a little. And. Credit credit high distinction. So, what!? I cannot judge my work with any degree of accuracy here. So this one should be fine! If I can just force myself to sit down and fucking type, omg.

In unrelated news does anybody else really want an icon of the third panel in today's GWS? Her faaaace!

All right back to work!

PS this makes me ridiculously happy. Also kind of freaked out, as I told twitter, because a) I found out like an hour after posting a comment to stele3's journal admitting I totally shipped it, and b) at some point during the past year I told someone, I don't remember who, that my self-image on good days sort of resembles Amanda Palmer and Neil Gaiman's freaky time-travelling test-tube-baby lovechild. And uh, I guess the test tubes are no longer necessary? But now I feel really squicky because it's moved from the realm of obscure mary sue fantasy to the realm of that-person-could-theoretically-eventually-exist and aaaaugh /o\