Everyone at my school has lost their voice all of a sudden! Seriously, three or four people I interacted with this morning could barely talk. What is the deal with
that? Was there some kind of screaming-themed party to which I was not invited, and no one wants to mention it because they're worried I'll feel bad? I won't feel bad, you guys.
In other news, today I encountered the
BEST PARAGRAPH EVER: "Coming from Mr. Bed Bath and Beyond, I'm not sure if that's insulting, or just ridiculous."
John sniffs, "So I have a few candles."
"Also the big sign around your neck that says, 'GOD I AM SUCH A HOMO AND I LIKE IT.' You always forget to mention the sign. Sir." (from this story by
princess_bunny)(You guys all know about the thing with the curtains, right? John's sparkly gauzy curtains of prettiness with the matching gather? FROM CANON? Oh, John Sheppard, you are the gayest gay boy in all of Gaydonia.)
I wish I was better at coming up with ideas for fic,
or better at actually finishing said fic. I don't ask for both! Just one or the other! Once in a blue moon I FINALLY come up with an idea, like "Benton Fraser = 19th century Egyptologist, Ray Kowalski = kind of flirting with some Egyptian guy, and oh, Fraser's FACE, but he's not jealous! He's not! It was just
unexpected. And maybe there's some evil grave robbers or something, I don't know, and they dig in the sun all day and get really sweaty but Fraser never takes off his pith helmet and his hair gets all damp and sticks to his forehead." But then I never fucking
write it, you know? Laaaaaaame.