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I'm so doomed.


I was just in the shower, making fun of myself (no, not like that), thinking that any time soon I'm going to have to write a fic about an amnesiac zombie angel... And then I said "Hey." Because, you know, what can you do with somebody like that, except giving him his own garden-type planet and telling him some tall story about you making him like that on purpose?

Aging is how angelic bodies rot.


And with that sunny image in my head, I'm off to the office.

Comments

razorsmile
Apr. 27th, 2007 03:19 pm (UTC)
1) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!! (to the story and almost as much to this post)

2) I make fun of myself (yes, like that)* probably more than I should. I blame the more intimidating aspects of porn.

*actually, not really. See, due to my protean and hyperactive imagination, my idealized self (who lives a parallel albeit superior life to mine - by my standards anyway) is ... well, let's just say he'd be Johnny Gupta's idealized self too and leave it at that)
__marcelo
Apr. 27th, 2007 05:31 pm (UTC)
1) *bows*

2) It's a conundrum, yes. Perhaps somewhat like watching professional sports and then considering picking up one?

* Maybe we could call that the Holmesian Temptation.

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cass, can you not
__marcelo
__marcelo

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