I'd argue if the synopsis weren't correct...

You're a Boi Dyke!

You kick ass, dear. Serious, serious ass. You're
the type of girl who can change the timing belt
on my Camaro, have sex with me on the hood,
then do shots with me back at your place. Will
you marry me?


Which Lesbian Stereotype Are You?
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(no subject)

I would like to start by thanking torrain for the birthday gift of Puppetland. I read it through, I love it. It's simple and there are so many possibilities. I'm actually tempted to Storytell the game. There are not a lot of things that I would feel confident enough to narrate, but if there is one thing I know, it's messed up children's stories. I would just feel compelled to wait until I graduate in June to run it if I went ahead.

Easter dinner went well, despite being mildly hungover while cooking in a boiling kitchen, and running a gross fever by the time dishes arrived (No this was not an intentional coincidence). Thanks to people for coming.

Sorry to oni_neko and tibialmusician, I was really tired and wanted to go to sleep.

I'm sure other things happened, but I'm a little glazed over as I prepare to wwrite 2500 words on male and female imagery in Macbeth and how its use is representative of the hierarchal discord in the play...

3 more essays until the end of the year.

(no subject)

So who is up for a fight?

I got what I consider to be hate mail, bulk style, which means all of my neighbours got it too. Basically it implicates queer individuals as being immoral and socially corrupt and corrupting.

Okay, yeah, I'd like my MP to vote yes for equal marriage, however I feel the larger issue is that I should never be intimidated and marginalized by materials distributed through Canada Post, a Crown Corporation. That is my government consenting to allow members of its population to be emotionally abused.

That is how I feel, angry and marginalized.

That is one really bad review

In my science fiction class, my Professor so kindly informed the class that Philip K. Dick, author of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, dropped dead from a stroke after being shown 18 minutes of the movie adaptation of his above named novel, theatrically titled Bladerunner.

Harsh.

poem

Pieces of flesh, exposed
through the white wrappings
that have fallen away from the still bodies
bound the night before
in ritual
flesh and cloth now entwined
as the day falls upon the chill flesh of the morning