matociquala: (wicked fairy bowie)
Tyop du jour:  "Alfgyfa had often wanted to put a wicket over one of them to judge height, as you might with a hunting god."
matociquala: (writing whiskey devil)
I have found a use for Pinterest! It turns out it's a good place to organize all the recipes I've bookmarked over the years so I might actually use them.

In other news, via [ profile] batwrangler, a very nifty video on the training of the Budweiser Clydesdales... who mostly do their own stunts.

"Chris" is obviously one of the stars. ;-)
matociquala: (lion in winter dead)

For reasons that are not immediately obvious, the stacks of boxes and a rusty, paint-peeled forklift are wreathed in coils of mist. Ringing footsteps echo through the space, along with the rhythmic sound of heavy breathing.

As the camera pulls back, we discover our hero, DIRK POWER, standing amid the swirling mist, concealed by it to mid-thigh. His back is to a wall as he keeps to the shadows. Only his eyes gleam slightly with reflected light--his eyes, and a single dull line up the barrel of the gun he holds vertically beside his face.

It is not his breathing we hear. It is not his footsteps.


As he turns his face aside and slits his eyes to avoid discovery, a swirl of heavy black cloak disturbs the mist. Those same oily lights skip off reflective black armor. The footsteps grow louder, pause--and as Dirk holds his breath and begins to sweat, resume and continue on.

We follow Dirk as he pursues the enigmatic cloaked figure through the warehouse, darting from the shelter of one pile of boxes to the next. As the camera cuts in on him, we see him fumble in his pocket for a small, brightly-bound book. He flips through it, mouthing something--reads, and seems dissatisfied. Reads again, seems offended, but shakes his head and sighs and tucks the book back into his pocket.

Now the camera stays tight on Dirk as he slips around the side of a shelving unit. The rasping breaths of his quarry are punctuated by booming words, too distorted to make out plainly, but they are obviously orders. Now we hear other feet scuttling--people running to put the voice's orders into play.

Dirk closes his eyes, takes a single deep breath, and leaps around the end of the shelving unit and levels his gun.

DIRK POWER: So, Darth Continent! I have you now!

DARTH CONTINENT, the terrifying villain, is only a crouched, shadowy shape concealed by the rising sea of mist. As the camera cuts in to him we see his back-gloved hand dropping a chunk of dry ice into a bucket. Fresh waves of mist rise from the bubbling fluid within. 

Darth stands.

DARTH CONTINENT: You have nothing, Power! In fact, you might say you... were in mine!

Dirk winces. Darth tilts his head quizzically behind the mask.

DARTH CONTINENT: Page 67. Extra points for villain gloating containing puns.

DIRK POWER: That was the old edition. And what's this stuff with the dry ice?

DARTH CONTINENT: Atmosphere. Extra points for atmosphere.

DIRK POWER: Mist only counts for atmosphere if the villain is a vampire.

DARTH CONTINENT: Or it's a steampunk setting, You get me more steampunk than an abandoned industrial building.

Dirk just stares. His gun must be getting heavy. He lowers it slightly.

DIRK POWER: This is not steampunk.

DARTH CONTINENT: Besides, I have a cape. I get a presence bonus for fog with a cape.

DIRK POWER: Oh, for the love of...

He begins flipping through his book. Darth wanders over, also with a book. His has a black cover. They stand side by side, flipping.


DIRK POWER: ...dammit. I guess you're right. But it says here that you only get the presence bonus if you're gloating--

DARTH CONTINENT: Well, I'm the villain; I guess I have to gloat.

DIRK POWER: Shouldn't you be over there by the bucket?

DARTH CONTINENT: Oh! (He crosses) Where were we?

DIRK POWER: Gloating.

DARTH CONTINENT: Right. You gotta give me a kickoff line.


DARTH CONTINENT: A place where you'll never find her! Not until her moldering corpse falls into your lap one day, and you realize to your horror that you could have saved her if you had only been smart enough to figure out my cryptic series of clues!


Even through the mask, we can tell from Darth's pained headshake that he's wincing.

DARTH CONTINENT: Nobody talks like that, Dirk. I'm not a what. I'm a who. It's such an obvious setup line for some snappy response like, oh, I dunno. 'I am  the nemesis you deserve! But it's shit dialogue.

DIRK POWER: Page 375. I have to give you the opportunity to monologue. Failure to do so is a deduction for me. It's a deduction for you if you don't provide sufficient henchmen to die in unlikely ways suitable for me making bad puns.

(He crosses over to Darth and pulls out his rulebook again.)

DIRK POWER: See? Here and here.

DARTH CONTINENT: So I just have to hand you the banter points?

DIRK POWER: I have to hand you the monologue points. What do you want?

DARTH CONTINENT: You're supposed to be over there. (Points imperiously.)

Mist swirls as Dirk stomps back to his previous position.

DIRK POWER: Can we get this over with? I have a lunch date.

(cross-posted from
matociquala: (literature charlotte some spider)
What I found when I walked out into the yard this morning:

2011 09 27 spider with a sense of humor 002

2011 09 27 spider with a sense of humor 003

2011 09 27 spider with a sense of humor 004

Some arachnids think they're pretty funny.
matociquala: (criminal minds reid yes i'm a genius)

via [ profile] sovay:

not all genies grant wishes.
some grant clusterfucks.

Whatever use you thought you had for your morning, I just trumped it.

matociquala: (muppetology floyd pepper groovy)
Via the entire goddamn planet (probably including the Batman):

Managed a nice long walk this morning, but the meat is still letting me know I pushed it pretty far this week, exercise-wise.

Today I read a book. Maybe tonight, archery.
matociquala: (can't sleep books will eat me)
New Simon's Cat!

Thank you, internets, for helping me pack books.


Apr. 5th, 2011 03:18 pm
matociquala: (comic tick ninjas hedge)
New Simon's Cat! (oops, apparently not new. I just missed it before)

And the taxes are done. Not paid yet, but done.
matociquala: (new england quiet before the work)
"I've barely got six inches here."
"Six inches is all you need."
"True, it's adequate to most purposes."
"Really, you can get by with less. Six inches just means you don't have to work so hard."
"Eight makes it easy."
"Technique counts for a lot!"

"Oh, slide this way. I found the channel."
matociquala: (writing palencar horrid glory)
This is [ profile] hyperbard's fault. A vignette:


The intructor rubbed her hands together and said, "Let's see what we have here. Wow! That's a really nice toad! Good work! It's a creative interpretation of the assignment--"

"But I didn't want him turned into a frog. I wanted him turned into a prince!"

"What? Let me see. Oh, it's here in line seven of the incantation. You used Microsoft glammer checker, didn't you?"

"Apple Spell Wizard," she said, sheepishly.

Hey, on five and a half hours of sleep. You want good flash fiction?

Draft stands at 83 pages. Death to the draft!

And now, back on the draftkill. Just as soon as I stretch out a little and make some tea.
matociquala: (problem cat)
Roger Ebert is a national treasure. I have absolutely no intention of seeing "The Tourist," but that doesn't make me any less inclined to love his review.

The plot involves — oh, hell, you know, the usual mystery man who has stolen millions from a gangster and gone into hiding while smuggling instructions to Jolie, his lover, instructing her to take the train to Venice, etc. And the cops from Scotland Yard who are tailing her in hopes of nailing the guy. And the gangster and his hit men who are also on the thief’s trail. And chases over the rooftops of Venice, dinner on a train, a scene in a casino, designer gowns and a chase through the canals with Jolie at the controls of a motor taxi, and...

Well, there was really only one cliche left, and I was grateful when it arrived. You know how a man in a high place will look down and see a canvas awning that might break his fall, and he jumps into it? Yep. And it’s shielding a fruit cart at the open-air market and he lands on the oranges and runs off, leaving the cart owner shaking his fist. This is a rare example of the Vertical Fruit Cart Scene, in which the cart is struck not from the side but from the top.
matociquala: (writing steles burning)
[16:08] [ profile] matociquala: So what does a Djinn look like, except blue?
[16:08] [ profile] matociquala: I think he's incognito except for the part where he's standing in a brazier.
[16:09] [ profile] tanaise: So, like a Navi
[16:10] [ profile] stillsostrange: Does he look like a man?
[16:10] [ profile] matociquala: Djinn were blue first.
[16:10] [ profile] stillsostrange: Or something terrible and awful.
[16:10] [ profile] matociquala: I think he's the Oz of the Djinn world.
[16:10] [ profile] matociquala: except, you know, susceptible to flattery.
[16:11] [ profile] matociquala: Because he is a Djinn, after all.
[16:11] [ profile] matociquala: Maybe I should just make him look like a Middle Eastern Seth Green in lapis.
[16:11] [ profile] matociquala: That would amuse me.
[16:11] [ profile] stillsostrange: That would amuse about anyone, I think.
[16:11] [ profile] tanaise: Scott Evil!
[16:12] [ profile] matociquala: Pretty much yes.
[16:12] [ profile] matociquala: *in the Oz voice*
[16:24] [ profile] matociquala: There is no gravitas in this Djinn-summoning.
[16:26] [ profile] matociquala: The PersiUns are advanced. They have trouser pocket technology.
[16:27] [ profile] hawkwing_lb: sensible PersiUns.
[16:27] [ profile] hawkwing_lb: Pockets might be in the top ten of most useful inventions of all time.
[16:27] [ profile] matociquala: they are up there.
[16:27] [ profile] hawkwing_lb: Or at least the most convenient.
[16:27] [ profile] matociquala: Wheel, lever, aspirin, water screw, pockets.
[16:30] [ profile] hawkwing_lb: yep.
[16:31] [ profile] matociquala: condom, flush toilet, penicillin, coherent light, knife.
[16:31] [ profile] matociquala: that's pretty much it right there.
[16:31] [ profile] matociquala: food canning.
[16:31] [ profile] stillsostrange: I want a dog-destinker.
[16:34] [ profile] matociquala: Amanda, it will be your job to tell me if the flip, insolent Djinn thing works, or if I'm outsmarting myself.
[16:34] [ profile] stillsostrange: Okay
[16:54] [ profile] matociquala: Is the djinn a he or an it?
[16:54] [ profile] tanaise: I'm pretty sure Seth Green is a he.
[16:55] [ profile] matociquala: Yes, but he's only the actor playing the Djinn.
[16:55] [ profile] matociquala: It's a demigod, after all.
[16:55] [ profile] hawkwing_lb: my impression of djinni is that they are masculine.
[16:55] [ profile] hawkwing_lb: but, you know, I've never met one.
[16:56] [ profile] matociquala: It would simplify my pronoun issues if he were an it.
[16:56] [ profile] matociquala: but I can work around it.
[16:56] [ profile] tanaise: All the ones I know are male.
[16:56] [ profile] matociquala: er, him.
[16:56] [ profile] hawkwing_lb: they could be as sexless as angels, for all I know.
[16:56] [ profile] stillsostrange: Does he want to be a he?
[16:56] [ profile] matociquala: Well, I'm sure in this form he has boy parts.
[16:56] [ profile] matociquala: This is more of a metaphysical question
[16:57] [ profile] matociquala: It is a spirit of wind and fire, which are not, you know, necessarily gendered.
[16:57] [ profile] stillsostrange: I think if he puts on a boy's body, he might as well be called a boy.
[16:57] [ profile] stillsostrange: He could have dressed up as a frog, or smokeless flame, or whatever.
[16:57] [ profile] matociquala: And when he shows up later as a pillar of flame?
[16:57] [ profile] hawkwing_lb: but fire is - in the Islamic theory of the humours - a more masculine substance.
[16:57] [ profile] matociquala: This is a world without Islam.
[16:57] [ profile] stillsostrange: Then you're in for confusion. :P
[16:58] [ profile] matociquala: Heh. I'm thinking proactively.
[16:58] [ profile] hawkwing_lb: (also in the Greek theory. Humoural theory in general)
[16:58] [ profile] matociquala: It's also a world without Greeks. *g*
[16:58] [ profile] hawkwing_lb: fine, spoil my humours. :-P
[16:59] [ profile] hawkwing_lb: descriptively speaking, not prescriptively.
[16:59] [ profile] tanaise: Wait, but what if he has boyparts but feels like a girl?
[16:59] [ profile] hawkwing_lb: if he has boyparts he should be a he.
[17:00] [ profile] matociquala: Except he doesn't always have boyparts.
[17:00] [ profile] matociquala: And animals can be its no matter what parts they have.
[17:00] [ profile] matociquala: So I think he's an it.

...maybe. Unless I change my mind again.
matociquala: (bad girls marlene make my day)

This is via [ profile] sithdragn, for [ profile] truepenny and others.

A little goofy feline joy.
matociquala: (spies mfu get plastered)
Well, I had to link this: I have the perfect icon for it.

I think it's missing a whole bunch of drinking, though. Illya gets through at least three bottles of wine over the course of "The See Paris and Die Affair" alone. And then there's all that slivovitz in Terbuf....

Someday, when my dvds come home from their extended peregrinations around the nation, I may actually watch them again.

Why yes, I am supposed to be working on the copy-edited manuscript for Grail.
matociquala: (criminal minds garcia technopeasant)
Via [ profile] maryrobinette, one fabulous parody:

March 2017



RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 24th, 2017 03:18 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios