Procrastinatory Musings

Things I Learned Today:

Bad slashfic is really, really bad. Holy crap. I'm pretty sure I'm scarred for life. But not scarred enough to stop reading. Not yet, anyway. And also not scarred enough to stop looking on my own. So funny. Yet so very, very sad.

Damn you Clark and Lex and your Love That Is True.

From that survey thingy that I couldn't resist:

eXpressive: 5/10
Practical: 8/10
Physical: 6/10
Giver: 8/10

You are a RPYG--Reserved Practical Physical Giver. This makes you a 1950s Parent.

You are relentlessly patient, loving, generous and devoted. You are unflappable. If on some rare occasion you do raise your voice or say a swear word in anger, anyone around to hear it will remember it (and think it was funny). At the same time, you're very cute and charming, and even if you don't catch someone's eye at the beginning of the night you'll surely have their attention by the end.

What the hell? Some of the bits are true (especially the cute part), but the title just conjures up a picture that is completely foreign to how I see myself.

I am an impatient bitch who swears like a sailor. I do not cook. At. All. Nor am I particularly nuturing. I have frequent (albeit hormone-induced) urges to rip my boyfriend’s arm off and beat him with it.

Well, I’m exaggerating a little since his arm weighs more than I do.

Confession - still exaggerating; it’s more like one of his legs weighs more than me.

However, I have always secretly coveted one of June Cleaver’s dresses.

Hmmmm.

Maybe I should just get back to work.