"No rock stands a chance against Michael Guerin."

Describe a chance encounter that changed your life.



So we were just sitting there, minding our own business. I mean, it was just lunch, you know? How much trouble can you get into just eating lunch? It's not like you expect a life-changing event to come out of nowhere while you're chowing on a burger. But then again, people should expect that kind of crap in Roswell, I guess.

Anyway, like I said. Lunchtime, Max and I are just hanging out. I'm sure he was going on about some deep and meaningful emotional trauma. Or maybe he was just staring at Liz. I don't know. I sort of tune out when he gets that dopey look on his face. Sorry, Max. But you know you can get kind of sappy sometimes.

Where was I? Oh, yeah. Lunch. It was a really good burger. The Crashdown does good food. Better, when I was cooking there, but hey, everyone has to move on, sometime. I wasn't planning on being a short-order cook forever, you know. I wasn't actually planning on sticking around that long. But I digress yet again.

So. Long story short. Eating lunch. Crazy alien chasing freaks decide to shoot the place up. Max's one true crush gets shot and of course hero-boy can't leave well enough alone. He heals her, and BANG! There you have it. My life wasn't the same after that.

Who woulda thought lunch could be so damned risky?

"That's my hat!" Michael reached for the dilapidated, crumpled cowboy hat that two older boys were holding over their heads. They tossed it back and forth, well out of Michael's ten year old reach. "If you don't give it back, I'll make you wish you had!"

They just laughed at him, and tossed the hat again. The littler boy didn't bother to say anything more. He didn't have to. He set his jaw and launched himself at one of the boys, fists flying. He ignored the shouts and screams of Max and Isabel, yelling at him to let the bullies just have the hat, they'd get him a new one.

Later on, in the school principal's office, three boys sat sullen and bruised. There were black eyes and split lips, but only one satisfied, defiant smirk peered out from under a cowboy hat. When the principal asked Michael why he was grinning, Michael just shrugged. "Because. The sheriff always wins in the end." And he gave the man a cocky tip of his hat.

Write about your father.


My epitaph for Hank Guerin. Now there's a real prince among men.

He was a pillar of the community. Everyone looked up to him for his leadership in such things as swilling down beer and hitting on girls half his age. Hank also excelled at such things as running up debt, skipping out on work and disappearing for days at a time when the rent was due.

The best thing about Hank, though, was his uncanny ability to land a fist. He was almost as good with a boot to the ribs, but those fists, man. They were legendary. Their loss is truly mourned. (Or not.)

I was most proud on those occasions when one of the girls from school came over. Didn't happen all that often, but when it did? Hank was always in rare form. I've never seen anyone able to undress a person with his eyes like Hank did. He did have a way with women.

It's really a shame that Hank disappeared like he did. Not a day goes by that I don't wish I could have Hank back just for a day or two. I think I've learned so many new ways I could repay him for everything he did to for me.

Fortunately, I carry those memories with me, and I know exactly the kind of parent I will be. Someday. Maybe.

A person's fourth birthday is apparently a very big deal, and as such, Michael, Keelia and Midir decide that taking Noah to Dave and Busters is a very good idea. They'd given thought to taking him to Chuckee Cheese's, but in the end it's decided that all the animatronics might give the little boy ideas, and having life-sized rats suddenly following them home... well, the trauma doesn't really bear thinking about.

A few phone calls later (to just about anyone Michael, Keelia and Midir might know, along with a few people they don't), and everyone is invited to join them for an afternoon of four year-old fun. Kids, dogs, cats, and other life-forms are all welcome, as long as violence is kept to a minimum.

Noah is sitting at the table, bouncing with barely reined in excitement when people start to arrive.

Describe your worst failure.

What the hell? Do you think I've got all day to spend on a topic like this?

I'm a screw-up. It's my specialty. You don't go around asking a brain surgeon to describe his greatest slice with his scalpel, do you? No, I didn't think so. It's just not done.

But I suppose since you asked, I could at least give it a shot.

I'd say my worst failure was graduation. I mean, I was set to leave. I'd even avoided most of those stupid emotional good-byes and crap. I was so out of there.

But no, of course I couldn't just do it, could I? No, because that would have been the successful thing to do. No, your favorite chump Michael had to jump on his bike and ride into the graduation ceremony with... okay, well, not really with guns blazing. Lights blazing, definitely, but no guns.

And I can't even say I got the girl in the end, like a good hero. I got Max on the back of my bike. That was sort of the plan, if you could really call it a plan. I just knew he was going to do something disgustingly noble and self-sacrificing, so I had to go and screw up a perfectly good exit plan and save his ass.

Yeah, I could be on a beach somewhere drinking fruity boat drinks with those little umbrellas, but no. What a complete and utter failure.

Thanks for bringing up such a lovely subject. Bastards.

I live in a world where people riot and set fire to buildings over a cartoon.

Where's my fucking spaceship? I want out.

What in gay hell...?

Finally.

This is just the thing I've been looking for.

Although, I'm not sure I'm really stationed here as much as stranded here... but it's close enough.

Write a letter to anyone about anything. Say what you have always wanted to say but have been afraid to.

( Dear... )

*amused*

Mindless drone?

Yeah, I guess I can see that.

... They should just fuck and be done with it. She always was easier to take post-orgasm.

Wait. Maybe that was post-my-orgasm.

A very sincere and grateful thank you to the LJ fairy Elf who bought Michael paid journal time and extra user pictures. It was very thoughtful and much appreciated.

Happy holidays to you!

You will drink too much gin. Not the worst way to
die, but you won't remember too much of your
life. Hey, at least you made some people laugh!


What horrible Edward Gorey Death will you die?
brought to you by Quizilla


I make people laugh?

That's new.

My favorite joke.

A nun, a priest and a rabbi walked into a bar. The bartender says "What's this, some kind of joke?"

Hey, the meme said I was funny, not me. Where's the gin?

Hello, ( Crotch. )



I'm just sayin'.

You're so vain.

You probly think this post is about you.

You're so vain...

You probly think this post is about you, don't you.

Don't you!?

Okay. So.

Let's play a rousing game of Name That Cat.

Poll #612320 Name That Cat
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All

What in Hades' name do I name this cat?

Clicky.

( I guess it's unanimous. )

In other news...

I need to make that poll. Noah just called the cat "Here Kitty".

"Gunko Miko, can Here Kitty come play outside with me?"

*sigh*

Right. Naming this cat.

I'm bored.

Tell me a secret. The more twisted, the better.

Anon, if you wish, IP logging is off.

Ready, set... go.

Happy birthday, Holden.

*hands over deformed balloon animals*