Got the job got thejobgotit......ARGH!

I'm EMPLOYABLE! I'm WANTED! I'm going to have MONEY!!!!!

Oh God, I have champagne, and a squeeing fiancee, and a happy Staffordshire Bull Terrier, and cheerful rats, and EEEEEE!!!!!!

Four years out of work. First interview. And I'm wanted!!!!!

Okay, strictly too many exclamations, but screw it. MY JOB NAU!

...I have a job interview tomorrow. I only heard about it at 5pm this evening, and apparently it's going to be a chat rather than a proper interview.

I'm stoked.

Yes, it's only a one day a week job. Yes, it's retail (it's in a local pharmacy). Yes, it's not a huge amount of money. But it's money, and I actually got an interview when I didn't think I would, and it's done a whole lot to kick my self esteem forwards even if I don't get it. And, by God, we need the money. £200 a month would pay for a whole lot of things. We could put money in savings. I could sit my CBT and save for my motorbike (much cheaper than a car). I could put money towards whatever uni course I end up on, as well as hopefully still keep the job for a bit of extra cash.

And on Thursday, I'm having all my hair cut off. Yay!

This calls for the 'Oh...COCK' icon.

Hmmm. Cut hair off, or keep hair bobbed? Cut hair off or keep hair bobbed?

ARGH! I do not KNOW!

How can I decide?!

*retires for the night, as is going to look at Christmas trees in six hours *beam**

My quota of James May icons has gone up to five. I am glad to include semi nudity, banana fellating, drinking, and being soggy in this. After all, everyone needs a man who can semi nakedly fellate an alcoholic banana split while in the bath, don't they?

This entry is unlocked. It's a big step, I know. I know! But it's nice not automatically friend's locking, especially when there may be some lovely people around to talk to, who can't say hello because I lock down like a submarine about to go under the Arctic.

I also have five My Little Ponies on my desk, watching me. It's strange, but I'm used to the first generation, which were chunkier and cuter, these are longer legged and thinner, and so not as sweet. But then I am going to cut them into pieces, rejig them, and make them into famous gaming characters, so I don't think it matters.

OU course lady gave me 77% on my first assessment. Considering I know bugger all about science and less about maths, I'd say that's pretty decent.

Uh...no other news. Think my raidgroup just got eaten by wild and rampant bears, but they're mostly made of 100% prime Tauren beef, so it's to be expected. Us muscly green Orc types tend to survive by not being made out of finest fillet steak.

I love this film. It makes me a very happy person, to the point where I now have to go and get Spaced since I adore Simon Pegg. But I also adore Nick Frost, and they are never better when being in films together.

But, it was capra_maritimus that made me drabble about it. Bit of Nick Angel/Danny Butterman, very non-porny, but awww. Sweetness. I blame that wench for giving me plot bunnies...grrrr.

( Underneath here )

In other news, I got a pair of £90 knee high black Doc Martens for £36. Yay!

Title: Here There Be Dragons
Author: black_minorca  (formally the artist known as serpentis_redux)
Pairing: None at the moment
Rating: PG
Summary: Anomalies. They always lead to prehistoric lands, don't they? But what would happen if that theory was incorrect? What would happen if the team stepped through a portal that took them to somewhere that they'd never expect? After all, in the age of knights and ladies, there are always dragons to hunt, aren't there?

Are you sure about that? Dragons don't exist, after all. Unless you're a small group of medieval dragon hunters, that is. And sod the knights and ladies, they're all bloody useless anyway.
Disclaimer: Primeval and the lovely characters it has does not belong to me. My OCs do (poor buggers). The medieval period should belong to me, but I'm not allowed to claim history for me. However, I only put dibs on 800-1215 (but that includes Scandinavia) so ethelfleda can claim the other bits if she wants.
Author's Notes: I've had writer's block. I started this about six weeks ago, more probably, and I've just finished this part. Which is weird, but there we go. This is an AU, though the relationships between the Primeval characters set it vaguely in series one. This is before Connor and Abby, anyway. I tend to write AU's, I know, though I have got a cracking plot bunny about a friend of Lester's that I had in the shower a week ago.

The dragon thing came, of course, with the whole Sarah Mythology Thingy from the start of series three.

Any historical inaccuracies you may beat me for. I will be contrite.

( Here There Be Dragons... )

I comment porned poor Titch, so decided to bring my little porn here. Drabblific!

Fandom: Top Gear
Pairing: Richard Hammond/Oliver/Jeremy Clarkson by proxy/Bugatti Veron (voyeur)/special guest
Summary: Richard is a very bad man, and refuses to eat anything that's made of foreign rubbish i.e. nothing apart from burger and chips. Jeremy decides that enough is enough and Hammond needs to be punished! Bad Richard! Bad!

( Read more... )

Title: Anger Passion Play
Author: black_minorca 
Pairing: Cutter/Stephen
Rating: 18 (language and sex)
Summary: So many conflicting emotions for Nick when it comes to Helen, and she knows exactly how to tear them from him, but when they grow too great, he always turns to Stephen. But why does the erstwhile Hart always allow it?
Disclaimer: Not mine at all.
Author's Notes: A few interrelated drabbles that make a fic, since I said to Fred that I was finding it hard to write my proper stuff when porny drabbles were wandering around in my head. So porny drabbles ended up being a story, and here it is. Oh, and the necessary disclaimer that I need for rynar .

DAN! Do NOT read this. You know that thing with gay men, that I write about? This is one of them. AVOID! AVOID!

I don't want his brain melting, poor love.

( Anger Passion Play )
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I've decided that apart from my fics that I'm going to be going friends only for the forseeable future. I'm still about, just you'll have to be logged in to read me. I'll make a banner up at some point. If you wish to friend me, please do so, but I will be screening who is. Just so you know.

Merry Christmas/holiday of your choice, everyone.

*eats salmon*

Oddest thing ever said to a Frenchman #1 - "I am too short to be a transsexual."

Apart from strange conversations with one of our continental cousins, I am pissed off. See, my darling brother who is a scrounging bastard and walks all over my parents, is supposed to be here for New Year, along with the Sister in Law from Hell, and the Demon Spawn that is my nephew. This is the family that does nothing to help my frazzled mother, is incredibly selfish when it comes to, oh, everything, who treats us like we run a hotel and never lift a finger, and have given their four year old son his own Playstation, Nintendo DS, and Gameboy. Rather than, you know, reading with him or drawing, or that sort of thing. And have no idea of discipline. And they all have no manners (my brother wasn't brought up like that) and don't consider the feelings of others.

Supposed to be coming for New Year.

Yesterday evening he phoned up, said he's coming Wednesday instead. You know, Christmas Eve? And staying for five days. When, you know, we've not even considered or planned they'd just do that?

Thank God they are going to her parents for lunch since we're going out, but I know if Mum was cooking they'd have been demanding she magically obtain everything for a huge dinner.

Oh, and I've had to buy my father's Christmas present for them because they couldn't be bothered to get it, and I won't get my money back.

I am this far ( |---|) from saying something. Mum's told me not to, since she's sure that if anyone causes trouble they'll just take my nephew away and just cut contact, but someone needs to say something before I go in with all guns blazing and I completely demolish them. I've a hellish temper when I'm angry.

I am preparing myself for my FList to shout at me, so I'm hiding behind something with a blankie.

There are times in your life when you need to admit things, for your own sanity. Sometimes, you just have to get things out, and this is one of those times. I have thought long and hard about this, and I think my candidity (is that even a word) is something to be appreciated though I understand if you yell.

I...don't like Dr Who since David Tennant came. And I really don't like Torchwood.

Sorry...

I loved Nine, and all that, and then Ten came along and I was really disappointed. And, please don't yell at me, I think I have a phobia about John Barrowman. Possibly his teeth. I don't know. I find him a bit creepy, which is really odd.

But I am so sorry, so please don't shout at me.

Tonight, rynar  and I visited Shugborough Hall for a Victorian Christmas, and he asked me to marry him.

I have, of course accepted.

*beam*

Picture of the ring to follow!

Make the radiators work *sulk*

If you are wondering where I have been, I am up in Stoke with rynar and we are house sitting. I just saw him off to work after he managed to make the lights work - a light bulb literally fell out of the light socket in the lounge and nuked all the downstairs circuit and for some INSANE reason the trip switch is in the garage that Dan's brother in law has parked his car in front of and we haven't got keys so Dan had to crawl in in his work clothes like a sexy Stokey limbo dancer and he's gone to work late because the central heating went into overdrive and had switched itself off at some point so we had to beat it into a pulp to make it work and so now I'm glaring at the radiators to warm up - and I am going to make a big chicken stew for tea.

I am...domesticated. Like some feral kitty I have been tamed. I'm not looking forward to wrangling the washing machine because my ironing is the worst in the world, but there are rumours of Boyfriends Who Iron. Which would be a great indie band name. All in neatly pressed shirts and emo-hair of doom.

Being the geeky sort that we are, we decided to bring Computer Beast on holiday with us, along with Dan's wee machine, so we're entirely hooked up and waiting for the snow to come back and be heavy so we can have a Warcraft day. My computer likes coming on holiday, and is happily being noisy in pleasure at me.

It snowed yesterday, and the day before, but not enough to stop people going to work, but just enough for it to freeze over and become really really icy. Dan's beloved little Astra nommed it all up happily, but he takes perverse pleasure in making Eon vans stop to let him through, and therefore halting their ability to go up hills. Eon are the enemy since he works for nPower. He takes pride in destroying the morale of the Antichrist.

One day he shall rule the world. AHahahahahah. AHAHAHAHHAHAHAH! I shall be your energy queen, and you shall bow before me and my resources. AHAHAHAHAHAHAH DAMN YOU ALL!

Title: Dearest Abigail
Author: black_minorca 
Pairing: Hints of Connor/Abby, Connor/Cutter, Cutter/Steven
Rating: PG
Summary: Edinburgh, 1853. Young Connor has been accepted to the University of Edinburgh to study natural sciences, especially Geology., taking with him his closest friend's pet lizard, Rex. His lecturer, Professor Cutter, turns out to be a very strange man, and who is the gentleman with the strange pistol who always accompanies him? And what are these anomalies? And should he really be telling Abigail everything through letters?
Disclaimer: Not mine at all.
Author's Notes: Written in letter form, at least for the first part anyway. All I can describe this as a Primeval fic, with a tiny feel of The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and possibly a bit of Elizabeth Gaskell thrown in for good measure. Obviously, this is an AU.

Yeah. Plot bunnies. Curse them and their AUness.


( Dearest Abigail )