Shoot Me

I know I said thus was just going to be a fanfiction journal, but I’m amending that…  But I will provide helpful links to all of my fanfiction!

I blame mistful for posting a link to "Smart Bitches Who Read Trashy Books", which I clicked on, even though I don’t read romance novels, and saw this beautiful image and found this quote: “Jesus/Eleanor of Aquitaine fanfic! Now I’ve seen everything!”  Some strange force compelled me to pass it along, thus spawning this conversation:

Fish: “Oh Jesus, I would have become a nun if I had only known how much better you are in the sack than Louis!”
Cat: Wriiiiiiite it.
Fish: The Bride of Christ thing is the real attraction.  Who said the Catholic Church doesn’t believe in polygamy?
Cat: Most Catholics, but what do they know, the silly things?
Fish: What are monks, Husbands of Mary?  Husbands of Christ?  Alert the press, the Catholic Church has been performing gay weddings for millennia!
Cat: Quick, get me a phone book!

Later on, we were both bemoaning our school’s scheduling:

Cat: I have midterms
Fish: Good luck… but don’t get lucky, you might get a disease
Cat: That’s what antibiotics are for, dear.

In other news, I ran into a door… a partially open door.  It hurt, and I ended up with a greenish purple lump on the side of my forehead just above my ear.  I fell backwards, flat onto my behind, so my tailbone hurts too.  It’s really disconcerting, you know, to go from upright and confidently striding and not looking in front of one’s self to sitting in the middle of the hallway, especially when the tears start rolling out of your eyes before one has even registered walking into anything.  And it hurt.

I might have gotten over this, it’s a big school and not many people know me, except two days later when I started to explain to my professor why I had missed class, he smiled politely and said “I heard about that; I thought it might be you.”  So yes, apparently my penchant for running into doors is well known.  I’m just the sort of person who does things like that.

Speaking of behinds, Cat’s behind is a conversation piece:

College girl: Who are you waiting for?
Cat’s friend: Cat
College girl: I’ve heard about her behind
Cat’s friend: Well..I guess people might talk about her behind her back, she's pretty odd and kinda scary.
College girl: No, I mean I've heard about her behind.  As in her bum.
Cat’s friend: *blink*
College girl: Oh, it's all been good! Verrrry good.

Oh, and some poor fool in my political science class is annoysexual, by which I mean he is attracted to people who vex him.  He and I are the mouthiest two in the class and without fail on opposite sides of the issues.  He gave me this dopey worshipful smile that became progressively dopier and more worshipful the longer and more creatively I called him an idiot.  I never thought that my lips pulled back in a feral snarl and my hands twitching into claws was my best look, but to each his own, I suppose.