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Tell me again, why do I need one of these things?

So, how long have I been gone? More than a while. Usual concoction…

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hugh house
So, how long have I been gone?

More than a while. Usual concoction of health and brane issues, "work", and making the_dosk a birthday cake.

I also got some writing in, if not any actual intraweb presence

(Victoria Sponge; my attempt at buttercream came out a little runny... silly processor getting hot and bothered)

Right now, I feel more than a little blank.

So, have I missed anything interesting and less blank making?




Other than that: still trying to get through to the end of Highway 61, more to do with my endurance than a bad reaction to a shinily good film. Still don't know what Don's accent is and considering doing something to Canadian actors who mumble too much. Really want to find some way to get the car into On the Inside. I am on a bit of a car-obsessed roll; every Chicago cop must have a cool car (due South personal canon rule #2. Rule #1 Everyone must be haunted by the ghost of their father, if you do not have one, one will be provided) and well a lot of On the Inside has featured cars, cars that are not there, and cars that are security on a mates-rates loan with your drummer friend Sandor. I want to have Pooky's (uh, Don, ennunciate with your weird pseudo-sweedish accent) black Ford Galaxy 500 (preferably with the coffin on top) even if nearly nobody would appreciate the beauty of it. Also, zabira provided me with research porn on Inuit Throat Singing, which makes my inner Fraser very happy.
  • Some years ago I heard a radio news thingy about Inuit throat singing or similar, and they mentioned that one thing people did while they were learning this art was try to make ANOTHER person's vocal cords vibrate. So my then-small boys and I were trying this, fastening open mouths together and blowing HARD into the other person's mouth, and sometimes it does work and you get this weird buzzy noise coming out of the other person's throat, which sounds strange when you do it to them and feels VERY strange when they do it to you.

    And then it occurred to me that we were downstairs in a room with no curtains, and to passersby this probably looked very odd indeed.
    • *loves*

      Oh boy! Now I seem to have Turnbull's inuit throat singing fantasies in my head (he has an unrequited crush on Fraser in my current AU - which I will talk about at length given teh opportunity and am hard to shut up) and oh yessss... nifty. Also, probably a good Fraserian excuse. *writery machinery starts churning*
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