Big man sticks and tight tunnels

You can force the girl out of hockey, but you can’t take the hockey from the girl

Oh.
My.
God.

What have I just done?!?

So a little while ago, I had posted that I was going to write a piece of original fiction (het, no less!) in response to all the hockey books I’ve been reading.

The fact that my female MC is aro/ace has completely thrown me for a loop. I have no idea how to write her. At all.

I even purchased some books and joined some FB groups, hoping that would help.

Nope.

I’m more confused than ever.

Jump to last night - in one of my Drarry groups, a girl mentioned how she hated the words “entrance” and “member”, and wanted to know if we had any pet peeves / problems with certain words.

I said that I was OK with hole and entrance because, no matter where, it’s a receptacle and meant to receive. I have more issues with descriptions for the things being received. Like man (something) as in, “He poked his big man stick into her tiny tunnel.”

And that one sentence just… just… created all kinds of fucking chaos.

So, apparently, I’m now writing a Drarry hockey AU.

I guess I’m doing something right

I hit ‘maybe running isn’t for me’ at the same time normal runners are hitting ‘I’m ready for this’

Still working through reading some of the short stories and discarded longer works I’m unearthing as part of the LONGEST CLEANING / REORGANIZING PROJECT IN THE HISTORY OF THE FUCKING WORLD.

I found two writing assignments graded by very different teachers, written at very different points in my life.

I think this is a good thing:
I credit (extra) you for this story! I find it hard “grading” a story!

Did you mean KC to be selfish? I got that impression. When she confesses to Jeff and tells the truth, her response turned me off.  He didn’t deserve it! And her shortness at the end to the teacher - nasty -

Did you intend to create a nasty, selfish, young girl?

The situation seems to be overblown. Much ado about nothing -

Was this intended to create a mountain out of a molehill???

Lots of questions!

I’m not sure about answer!

I am fucking DYING at the ‘he didn’t deserve it’! Like, fuck, dude, you got into that shit.

Isn’t that the whole point of being a writer? To make people feel things?

And, no, I didn’t mean KC to be so nasty, but it was written in 1990.

My dad and I had moved out of the house I grew up in and were living in an apartment. 1990 to 1992 could be called my ‘angsty’ period, at a minimum.

So, if KC was a Mary Sue (let’s be serious: she totally fucking was), it’s a pretty good indication of just how fucked up I was at that point.

On the flip side, on a junior high school writing assignment, I got this:
Wendell -

This is exceptionally good! It’s subtle and sensitive - I’m impressed! (A+)

Junior high was a very different world compared to high school. I can’t say Junior High was perfect - there were a shit ton of problems at home. I’m pretty sure that this is when the depression started showing its face to the world,too. I started going days without sleeping and I was never happy. NEVER. I faked it well enough, but looking at that young girl… knowing what she was up against and what her future would hold. God, I just want to put her somewhere safe and protect her.

Story #1 was supposed to be a little bit of a meet-cute, boy meets girl thing. Of course, obviously, it didn’t go well.

Story #2 was about a girl who had grown apart from the popular girls she had been friends with and reconnected with a less popular, forgotten friend.

I never lived story #1, but what person doesn’t want the opportunity to hang out with their crush? Fuck, I couldn’t write the romantic scenes for shit. (And now I write porn. Who needs romance when you have a dick? (Or a sex toy. My porn is equal opportunity.))

Sorry. Not porn. Erotica.

Speaking of Mary Sues, my little het fic is definitely including bits of my past.

The bad ones.

Write what you know, right?

Fuck.

I almost wrote Right what you know, write?

Englishing good is hard work.

But, anyway, that one is a meet-cute, boy meets girl thing. About a girl who loses all her friends.

Stickin’ to what I know.

Obviously.

- - - - - - - - -

I gave up on watching horror movies while I play The Sims. I’ve seen all the ones I’m interested in on Tubi, and none of the other streaming services have anything that I haven’t seen. (Give me a good found-footage haunted house/paranormal TV show movie any day.)

So, I decided to watch Bio-Dome.

BIO-FUCKING-DOME.

Yeah. I don’t know what I was thinking, either.

But there’s a song in there that is on the Threesome soundtrack. (Also a Stephen Baldwin film where he’s a complete idiot.)

I LOVED Threesome.

So, last night, I found an external blu-ray disc player, attached it to the Mac, and had a completely enjoyable trip down memory lane. And those don’t happen very often around these parts.

You can’t buy the soundtrack, though.

You also can’t buy the soundtrack for “Pump Up the Volume” which will probably make an appearance today.

I was able to find all the PUtV songs on iTunes, which was great, but it would have been SO MUCH EASIER to just buy the soundtrack. (Licensing, smishening.)

Unfortunately, a chunk of songs from Threesome’s soundtrack are near impossible to find. I still have some options I need to look at, but I’m not holding out hope that I’ll find digital copies.

I do, however, have an old school tape deck and a Mac it connects to.

I see myself dusting off both and doing some digitizing myself.

Worst case, I hook the old Mac up again and use it as an oversized iPod.

- - - - - - - - - -

I decided to do Dopey virtually this year. That way, I can go at my own pace and not worry about the asthma, or blisters, or whatever else will raise its ugly face.

I am doing Wine and Dine in Orlando, though. Yesterday, I decided to get serious about my training. I had been on a streak, then G died, and.. I lost my treadmill buddy. It’s been hard to get on the treadmill and not having him laying in the doorway, protecting me.

I walked the first and last miles of a 5K. That second mile? I did walk / run intervals - I’ve always played with them in the past, but… eh.

Last night? Last night was my best mile since 2019.

Completely sustainable over a mile.

I’m going to hop on the treadmill again tonight, I think, and try again. Maybe I’ll nudge up the running speed. Maybe I’ll set my Garmin to measure laps. (Which is a pain in the ass, but whatever.)

Don’t know.

But I’m kind of excited to see what happens.

Can I, can I put it in your slot?

“Mmm,” she said, licking her lips. “Is that package for me?”

I don’t know how I survived this past week at work - or today, for that matter - but when that popped up in my FB memories… it made everything so much better.

It might have inspired some dirty Victurri fanfiction… not mine, though. We’ll have to see if PT and V actually do something with Yuuri and those little mailman shorts like they teased.

 

- - - - - - - - - -

Bunnywest’s second book dropped at midnight.

If I stayed up for a book launch, is it really too much to expect me to wait until I woke up to dig in?

It was worth the lack of sleep.

Seriously.

It, too, deserves the very. good. lube.

- - - - - - - - - -

I’ve been a writer my entire life. From my earliest memories, I’ve always written some sort of fiction. We used to go on vacation to Maine and I would sit on the hotel balcony staring at the ocean and chewing a blue Bic pen. (Always blue.) Once the words came, it had to be college ruled paper. I didn’t care if it was a pad or a notebook. That wide ruled shit is ridiculous.

Of course, I have honed my skills and become the whole… package (*snickers*). I’ve taken Official Writing Classes. I’ve had peer reviews. I’ve had (master)beta readers.

I’m fucking published. (Stick that in your slot.)

All that to say, I hate when something unexpected slides in the back door.

(Oh my god. I am dying over here.)

I’m never going to claim to be a plotter. Nope. I’m a hardcore (I said hard) pantser.

Anyhoo.

In all seriousness, my little piece of het fiction just threw me a major curveball.

I thought it was the female lead’s story. Told by her, as unreliable a narrator as any out there today.

About falling in love with a sport that breaks your heart over and over again.

About falling in love with your best friend.

About having the happily ever after you really deserve but that only ever happens in fiction.

So… the whole package.

(Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.)

Where was I?

Oh yeah.

I’m reading it over, trying to figure out what comes next, and motherfuck.

Wait. That wasn’t my actual reaction.

Let’s try that again.

SON OF A MOTHERFUCKING DOUCHENOZZLE. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!? WHEN THE FUCK DID THAT HAPPEN?!?

(Interrobangs are cool. HA! I said bang. (Bet you didn’t even know there was a word for ?!?) There’s also shebang (#!) and don’t ask me how I know these things.) 

Turns out that, despite the shifting POVs, it’s still her story… as told by the male lead.

That was… not… supposed to happen.

Oh, and the kicker?

She’s asexual. AND aromantic.

Because why the fuck not?

I didn’t realise how much I didn’t know about being aroace / acearo until I had to figure out how to write her.

I spend all this time thinking I have a general idea of what’s going to happen and then the characters just fuck shit up.

I feel like I’m taking dictation. (Ha! Dic…I’m reaching now, aren’t I?)

To quote my father, I don’t know what I don’t know until I know I don’t know it.

I’m learning that I don’t know a lot.

Like how to control characters so that they’re not ruining my grand romantic relationship.

Or engaging in statutory rape.

Or sending dirty texts to their dads.

Yeah. We won’t talk about Stiles’ accidental text to the Sheriff.

WHY CAN’T MY CHARACTERS BEHAVE?

- - - - - - - - - -

New expansion pack broke the Sims again.

I’m playing in a new save file because something happened to my favourite legacy file and the game crashes everytime I load into the game…

There’s a mod that I love that’s sort of working. The developer knows it’s throwing up an error and is working on it, but I’m not too concerned. The bit it’s breaking doesn’t matter to me.

And if I lose this save file? I have another one (my second favourite legacy) that’s sitting in time out until the dust settles.

OK. Enough stalling…

I have a horse to train and boys to screw in the stable. (Talk about a roll in the hay!)

Sometimes, 18+ Sims mods make the game so much better…

I do it by hand

The code in the back is beautiful. This? Not so much.

So…

I am certifiable.

If my needing a shrinky dink and being heavily medicated wasn’t enough, I’ve decided to code my new web project BY HAND.

All I can say is THANK FUCK I have a local webserver on my Mac, because goddamn this thing is UGLY.

(Can I make a yo’ mama joke or is it as dated as hand coding a website? I kid… but I can I? Cause this is as ugly as yo’ mama.)

(Whoops.)

For the record, you cannot use a stylesheet in your HTML if the code is written:

< .link rel="stylesheetsds" href="KR_css/styles.css". >

Ask me how long I beat my head against the desk wondering why one simple line of css wouldn’t work.

Go ahead. ASK ME.

The answer is: too fucking long.

Thank you, Sophie, for your very helpful addition to my code.

In all seriousness, I border the shit out of everything so I can tell what’s what when it’s not placing properly. It was a habit I got into back in the day and it’s actually served me well in the past.

But, of course, nothing works if your cat decides to help you with the code. Because cats can’t type (or spell) for shit.

Also, this site has been borked in Chrome since the migration. I couldn’t figure it out because it wasn’t happening anywhere but my Mac (from what I can tell…)

Took forever to find what was causing the error.

My site was secure and that security was blocking the browsers from displaying the css. I had to unprotect my site through my antivirus software and wasn’t that fun? Now I get all kinds of error messages that my site isn’t secure…

I can’t win…

Наша Батьківщина б’ється гордо

Скільки не стріляй в наш край Скільки не пали поля Житиме вічно наша ненька Вродить ще не раз земля Скільки не стріляй в наш край Скільки не пали поля Житиме вічно наша ненька Вродить ще не раз земля Наша Батьківщина б’ється гордо Ми не в пах, а в морду Наша Батьківщина за свободу Перегризе горло Наша Батьківщина тільки наша Не віддам нізащо Наша Батьківщина б’ється завше Збережи її, Отче Наший Ненька наша рідна, ти потерпи ше чу-чуть Наші Січові стрільці добре ворога січуть Око за око наші хлопці точно пики натовчуть Збройні сили України не дадуть задуть свічу Скільки не стріляй в наш край Скільки не пали поля Житиме вічно наша ненька Вродить ще не раз земля Скільки не стріляй в наш край Скільки не пали поля Житиме вічно наша ненька Вродить ще не раз земля Кулі дебіли полетіли, бо не мали права вони на слова Воля - це дівчина, шо любить дім, тільки руским би не дала Кулі дебіли полетіли, бо не мали права вони на слова Воля - це дівчина, шо любить дім, тільки руским би не дала Звідти, де волі люд не мали, звідти ті тихі голоси А звідки чорнила виливали, явно, що там не чистота Скільки вже наша пережила ненька, така ще молода Жовте осіннє плаття зняла, а камуфляжне - ти вбрала А на дев’ятий поверх упало не сонце Дивлюся на двір через нове віконце Ангел тут живе мій лише охоронцем, бо На дев’ятий поверх упало не сонце Скільки не стріляй в наш край Скільки не пали поля Житиме вічно наша ненька Вродить ще не раз земля Скільки не стріляй в наш край Скільки не пали поля Житиме вічно наша ненька Вродить ще не раз земля Око за око, зуб за зуб Загризуть тут за тризуб Око за око, зуб за зуб Наші тихо підповзуть

No matter how much you shoot at our land How many fields did not fall Our grandmother will live forever The earth will give birth more than once No matter how much you shoot at our land How many fields did not fall Our grandmother will live forever The earth will give birth more than once Our Motherland fights proudly We are not in the groin, but in the face Our Motherland is for freedom He will bite his throat Our Motherland is only ours I won’t give it away for anything Our Motherland is always fighting Save her, Our Father Our dear Nenka, you will suffer a lot Our Sich snipers cut the enemy well An eye for an eye, our guys will definitely crush spades The Armed Forces of Ukraine will not let the candle blow out No matter how much you shoot at our land How many fields did not fall Our grandmother will live forever The earth will give birth more than once No matter how much you shoot at our land How many fields did not fall Our grandmother will live forever The earth will give birth more than once Bullets of morons flew because they had no right to speak Volya is a girl who loves home, but she wouldn’t give it to Russians Bullets of morons flew because they had no right to speak Volya is a girl who loves home, but she wouldn’t give it to Russians From there, where people had no free will, those quiet voices came from there And from where the ink was poured, it is clear that there is no cleanliness there How much our little girl has experienced, she is still young You took off the yellow autumn dress, and you put on the camouflage one And it was not the sun that fell on the ninth floor I look at the yard through a new window The angel lives here only as my guard, because The sun did not fall on the ninth floor No matter how much you shoot at our land How many fields did not fall Our grandmother will live forever The earth will give birth more than once No matter how much you shoot at our land How many fields did not fall Our grandmother will live forever The earth will give birth more than once An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth They will bite the trident here An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth Ours will quietly creep up