Title: Truths Are So Naked
Author: Alison Leigh (ig_nobleigh)
Fandom: Chuck
Rating: PG-13 at best (I can't believe it, I have such a porny mind!)
Pairing: Chuck/Devon, UST
Summary: During a game of truth or dare Devon must answer the age old question: “If you had to have sex with one guy in this room who would you pick?”
Notes: I am so excited to finally be posting in this fandom, and I had so much fun writing this! Also, I need to write a sequel to this because I totally meant for them to have sex... but then I had a deadline. This fic was inspired by the following icon by maleficium_tg (#48).






Devon rarely saw fit to criticize his fiancée but Ellie really should have stuck to the “No more family dinners” policy she’d mentioned. They’d invited everyone over to celebrate Chuck and Sarah getting back together (again), though Ellie had not actually told any of them that was the reason for the dinner because then Chuck would have hid in his room.

Things were going fine, Ellie was cooking up a storm (no sweet potatoes being harmed in the creation of her side-dishes this time, though regular ones were fair game). Devon was haphazardly dusting to keep Ellie from giving him that stressed Look that pretty clearly stated that his non-action was being recorded for customer service purposes and the tape would be ready to go the next time Ellie was feeling unsupported.

Then the power went out.

Ellie squeaked, then groaned and for a second Devon thought she might actually be dying but it was just because she wouldn’t be able to finish cooking, and there would be no party and Chuck so deserved to be happy and- her surprisingly Chuck-like babble followed him out of the room as he went to get their emergency stash of flashlights and candles.

A half hour later and the power still hadn’t come back on, though Chuck had somehow convinced her not to cancel, and had three large pizzas already on their way by the time guests arrived.

They’d been planning on playing Scene It. (Devon assumed so that Chuck could win, cheer him out of the funk he was in lately. Though Morgan was going to be there too so Devon didn’t know if Chuck would even win. Morgan was an even dorkier dork than Chuck, not that Devon thought that was a bad thing. In Chuck anyway.) Obviously that wasn’t going to happen with the power out.

But apparently Morgan and Anna plus candles equaled adolescent campfire games, and before he could say “Awesome idea, guys” they were playing truth or dare. He was anticipating some awesome dares from this crowd, from eating every condiment in the fridge mixed together to jumping naked into the complex’s fountain, rubbing his hands together eagerly when a sharp jab to the ribs brought him down to Earth.

“Choose truth, Devon,” Ellie whispered, coaxing. Her puppy-dog eyes lost no effect in poor lighting.

“Whatever you want, babe,” he replied, smiling (no doubt like a total sap, but he didn’t need the street-cred in this crowd). He could still give dares. He was hoping he got Chuck, because it was clearly unnatural that he lived with the guy and had never seen him shirtless. He was beginning to think he was hiding a third nipple or a weird mole or something, and that Devon had to see.

Morgan went first, and when Anna chose dare he went right for the gold, ordering her and Sarah to French for thirty seconds. Anna and Sarah both rolled their eyes and laughed. And kissed. That was definitely an image that was going to stick with him, even if he did have an insanely hot fiancee (who was also the best cook in the world). Even Casey looked interested in that.

Anna picked Casey despite his ferocious scowl (biggest balls in the room, that girl) who said “Dare” like he was the one doing the daring. Anna ordered him to jump into the courtyard fountain, but with all his clothes on. A bit of a waste but Devon wasn’t going to complain.

Casey picked Sarah who gave Chuck a strangely significant look before saying “truth.” Casey smirked, then asked her the name of her best fuck. Sarah gaped “Uh- Chuck of course!” but she hesitated just long enough to give everyone doubts about her answer. Devon could see Chuck’s blush from across the room and he could tell it wasn’t the happy kind by the defeated slump of his shoulders.

Sarah took a bit longer at picking, almost looking like she was calculating rather than just playing a game but- no, that would be weird. Her eyes lit on Devon and he smiled, all ready for his turn.

“Devon!” And she smiled too, her previous discomfort apparently forgotten.

“Truth,” he replied, feeling a little disappointed that he couldn’t take a dare, but happy it would be his turn next.

“Oh.” Sarah blinked. Then she got that look again, and Devon- “If you had to have sex with one guy in this room who would you pick?”

“If I had to pick, I’d say-“ He looked around the room. Obviously he would never have sex with Morgan, not even if it was that or never orgasm again. And Casey was built, and Devon respected the hard work that took but clearly there was only one possible choice.

“I’d pick Chuck. You can’t really go wrong with those Bartowski genes. Very passionate people,” Devon said, kissing his fiancée on the cheek. And trying to avoid looking at Chuck while he did it.

He probably still had that blush on his face and Devon hoped his shoulders weren’t still hunched like that. The thought of having Chuck wasn’t disgusting to him, he’d hate for it to be disgusting for Chuck.

He’d had a plan for his next dare but asking Chuck to take his shirt off after he’d sort of said he wanted to have sex with him would be a little awkward. Damn.

“Ellie?” And he turned to her with a slightly paler version of his previous sappy grin. He was met with a grateful and secretive smile. Ellie kissed him his cheek with a whispered “thank you” and Devon realized she thought he’d picked Chuck to make him feel better.

“Dare!” Ellie said, and giggled. “But if you tell to take my clothes off I’m passing.”

Devon closed his mouth on that idea and went back to thinking. Then for one terrible second all he could think of was daring her to kiss Chuck and he had to clench his jaw on those words to keep them from escaping. God it would be like watching that twins collection he’d made of his favorite scenes when he was in high-school and had played so much he’d worn out the tape by college.

“Um. I dare you to- eat a serving of the mashed potatoes you were making,” and grinned because not only had he thought of something sufficiently gross to satisfy the rest of the group but he’d thought of something Ellie wouldn’t be too mad at him for (and one that wouldn’t force her to commit incest for his visual pleasure).

“The potatoes didn’t even finish cooking!” Ellie argued but Devon could tell she wasn’t really putting her foot down.

“Yeah, guess that’s gonna taste pretty nasty, huh?”

Ellie sighed and slapped his leg, but her hand also stroked his thigh as she used him to push herself off the couch.

“So while I’m getting my dare ready,” she called into the living room, the candle-light glinting off the potato-masher. “Chuck, you’re up!”

“Uh. Come on guys, don’t you think this is a little immature, I mean, we’re adults here, right why’re we playing this-this kid’s game. Am I right?” He trailed off with that nervous grin Devon usually saw on him around Casey, but Chuck seemed to see his defeat in the enthusiastic grins of everyone else. Sarah elbowed him playfully.

“Come on, Chuck. Truth or dare?”

“Um- dare.” He said it more gravely than Devon thought it really deserved. Ellie wouldn’t ask him to do anything too bad.

“Dare?” Ellie paused in her mashing, genuinely surprised. “You never choose dare!”

Maybe it was a big deal then. “Way to man up, Chuck,” Devon said encouragingly, thumbs up. He was a little disappointed Chuck wasn’t sitting next to him so he could clap him on the shoulder. The disappointment had absolutely nothing to do with imagining Chuck’s pale graceful shoulder under his hands while they- Right.

“Okay. I dare you to… help me eat these potatoes,” Ellie said with that smile that was meant to convey comfort and concern without appearing to do either one.

Everyone booed at the lame dare, including Devon, but Chuck got up from his spot next to Sarah on the floor and wandered into the kitchen. The group watched Ellie and Chuck leaning against each other and laughing together while they took turns spooning crunchy potato and soupy milk and butter into their mouths, smiling and pulling faces by turns, obviously trying to outdo each other with how ridiculously they could make their faces contort. Eventually Morgan insisted that was enough and they needed to get on with the game and the group agreed, calling the Bartowskis back to the couch.

Devon budged over and Ellie curled into his shoulder, resting her head on Devon’s arm across the back of the cushion. Chuck sat close on her other side, Devon’s fingers a scant inch from the curls of his hair. Sarah frowned for a split second while Chuck smiled over at his sister with that grin that lit up his whole face, just a hint of mischief and shared secret in his eyes. Then Chuck swept the grin over the room before locking eyes with Sarah again. Sarah took their separation more gracefully then, a soft smile back on her face, so Devon tried not to notice how a little of the light went out of Chuck’s grin.

He was definitely missing something between them, but Ellie said they were so good together and Sarah clearly loved Chuck-

“Morgan, truth or dare?” Chuck said, grinning the most evil grin that Devon had ever seen on him. It was about as sexy as it was scary, and he kind of wished Sarah had never asked him that question because now he couldn’t stop thinking of Chuck and sex.

“You have to ask? Dare. Do your worst,” Morgan did some slow motion kung fu moves ending with the Matrix style “bring it” hand motion.

“Oh, you know I will,” Chuck smirked, smirked, Devon never would have thought it possible. “I dare you to” pause for dramatic effect “suck on your big toe for thirty seconds!”

“OH!” went up from the whole group but Morgan was on his knees with his hands fisted in the air in the classic “how could my nemesis defeat me” pose, and this time Devon wasn’t sure Morgan was just hamming it up.

“Awesome dare Chuck!” He said, and tried to clap Chuck on the shoulder but somehow ended up ruffling his hair instead. Maybe a little more gently than was cool between two dudes but Chuck was grinning at him blindingly so it was a little hard to think.

“Damn you Chuck! How could you use your intimate knowledge of my fatal weakness against me?” Morgan said, giving his own version of puppy dog eyes (much less attractive than Ellie’s. And Chuck’s).

“I fail to see why I should be the most uncomfortable person in this room,” Chuck replied, crossing his arms over his chest. Chuck was too busy looking smug to notice the long look that went between Morgan and Anna but Devon wasn’t. Mostly because he was too fascinated and horrified to look away from the sight of Morgan taking off his shoes, and bringing one of his (no doubt very gross, smelly feet) up to his face, and doing his due diligence with Anna timing). It was like watching a car crash. A gross, smelly car crash.

But there was a Look between them and Devon could tell Chuck was gonna get his and soon.

And he was right. But God why couldn’t he have been wrong?

After Morgan was done with… that, he called Anna. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare!”

“I dare you to take off your bra without taking off your shirt at all,” Morgan said, again with no hesitation. Devon was beginning to think Morgan had a whole supply of sex-based dares all ready to go.

Anna smirked. Then she was all contorting shoulders and whirling arms and that should not have been physically possible but there was her leopard print bra and there was her shirt, exactly as it was.

Everyone clapped; well, except Casey, of course.

Anna bowed her head to the applause, then still holding up her bra gracefully between finger and thumb, she turned a devilish smile on Chuck.

“Chuck, truth or dare?” she purred.

Chuck looked like a deer in headlights. “C’mon, Anna, I just went!”

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he said, but he looked like a man staring down the gallows.

“I dare you to go shirtless the whole night,” Anna said with sheer pervy glee. Whoa, Devon thought, no wonder she and Morgan were such a good couple.

“Anna!” Chuck squeaked.

“You chose dare, Chuck,” she said, then raised an eyebrow, looking Chuck up and down.

Chuck sighed, keeping his eyes determinedly in his lap instead of looking at anyone else in the room. All eyes were on Chuck, not the least being Devon’s because hey, this was his whole goal for the evening right here.

Chuck was wearing one of his date-night button-downs, and Devon’s world seemed to narrow to Chuck’s long fingers slowly undoing button after button to reveal pale smooth flesh an inch at a time. Intellectually Devon knew it was reluctance that made Chuck go slowly, that Chuck was flushing in embarrassment and not- anything else, but Devon’s brain was doing all sorts of crazy things with the image. Crazy, sexy things.

He was maybe being a little obvious with the staring, but a quick glance around the room revealed that no one would notice because they were all staring at Chuck too.

Anna still looked blatantly pervy, Morgan was smirking (and Devon refused to acknowledge that his expression might have any other elements. If Morgan was lusting after Chuck Devon didn’t need to know about it). Casey was also smirking, even more evilly than Anna, and aiming said smirk toward Sarah while he was at it, who was fitcheting and looking pretty interested for someone who’d seen the full Chuck monty. Ellie looked worried about him, like always, though Devon thought that Chuck really had nothing to be embarrassed about.

He was pale, and thin, but in a wiry, way, surprisingly well-muscled for someone whose only play involved video games, which maybe explained his forearm definition, but not his fairly firm-looking biceps.

All in all, if he were Chuck he would be wearing tighter t-shirts. And going shirtless more. Much more.

Chuck’s deep fortifying breath moved through his chest and they could all see it now that Chuck had no clothes on, the way his ribs shifted slightly and Devon was picturing exactly where he’d be putting his fingers on the curve of his ribcage, where he could grip to shove Chuck down onto the couch arm and- he really had to stop thinking about his future brother-in-law like that.

Chuck was still blushing when he looked up, but now seemed even more determined to spread the pain. “Casey.”

Casey’s evil smirk almost dropped right onto the floor, but he covered up his shock pretty quickly. With an evil glare. Devon’s respect for Chuck increased tenfold when he didn’t flinch.

“Dare.” The growl plus the glare was even more intimidating.

“I dare you to lick Morgan’s foot.” Now his respect increased a hundredfold.

“What?”

“You chose dare,” Chuck said, still managing to keep totally cool.

Casey actually went through with it. Morgan looked almost as disgusted as
Casey but Anna looked disturbingly interested. Devon shuddered.

And then shuddered again at the pure icy venom in Casey’s eyes when he pulled back. Chuck raised an eyebrow.

Casey picked Sarah, who chose truth again.

“What’s the dirtiest sexual fantasy you’ve ever had involving Chuck?”

“What-! You! No! She doesn’t need to answer that, that’s-“ Of course Chuck’s cool couldn’t last. He’d probably used up his quota for the entire month and now he was freaking out about something totally benign.

Sarah had probably had Chuck fulfilling her sexual fantasies from day one. Nobody who had Chuck wouldn’t have him any way they could imagine, and Chuck was an obliging guy, eager to please. Probably just plain eager.

Sarah actually looked as shocked and horrified as Chuck did, and seriously, what the hell was up with them? Was their sex-life really that vanilla? Usually Sarah covered up any unpleasant emotions pretty fast but this one had her stuck.

She looked across at Chuck, who was blushing tomato red, and glaring at Casey full force. He was pointedly not looking at Sarah.

“It’s hard to choose,” Sarah said suddenly, breaking what was becoming an increasingly awkward silence. Chuck looked up, startled. Then it was Sarah who was blushing bright red, but looking at Chuck with determination. “I have this spy fantasy. Chuck is a software guru that the CIA suspects of some shady dealings and they send me in to a party at his hotel to seduce him. They want me to drug him and gain access to his computer while he’s unconscious but once I get him on his back I can’t resist staying. He makes me forget all about my mission while I ride him on every flat surface in the penthouse.”

There is a long silence while everyone in the room converts Sarah’s low murmured words into images. Startlingly vivid images of Chuck in a fancy tux at some party, champagne flute in hand, glowing with confidence and smiling so bright it could knock the bad intentions out of anyone’s head.

The game pretty much ends there, as Anna says hasty goodbyes and drags Morgan out the door looking like they’re on their way to play a private game of spy vs. spy themselves. Casey gets up and storms out after with a frustrated huff. For once Devon drags Ellie out of the room tactfully to give Chuck and Sarah some space.

Devon lies awake practically the rest of the night trying not to listen to any noises that might come from Chuck’s room… by straining his ears to make sure that if there are any noises he can stop listening immediately. It’s a spectacular feat of denial.

He falls asleep at 4:00am still trying to push the thought of two pairs of the sensual Bartowski mouth pressed together like a living mirror. He dreams of Chuck stripped naked and handcuffed to a hotel bed, a tux crumpled on the floor, a gun on the nightstand and Devon slowly shrugging out of his own jacket, rolling up his sleeves and saying “Now you’re going to tell me exactly what you’ve been up to, Agent Carmichael.”


Fin.

I just witnessed a commercial where a little girl said "Don't be so vanilla."  Is it just me, or is that a little wrong?

I hear birds outside!  And I just heard a flock of geese coming back!

My fic To Cross a Line got nominated at Numb3rs Awards!

I can't believe it!

001.	Chalk	002.	Baseball	003.	Anomaly	004.	Wrestle	005.	Sniper
006.	Profile	007.	Frisbee	008.	Kevlar	009.	Gum Balls	010.	Air Hockey

I needed a break from my Supernatural fic. Because porn is coming and I always start procrastinating when it's time to write the porn. Which is weird, since I read such exorbitant amounts of it.

Title: Neglected Tragedy Part Five
Author: ig_nobleigh
Fandom: SPN
Spoilers: All Hell Breaks Loose I+II
Warnings: see pairing
Pairing: Sam/Andy/Dean
Rating: Up to R! Finally some sex appears!
Summary: Andy transferred his mind into Sam's when he died, and now he's stuck as a disembodied voice in Sam's head, which is better than being dead, but still not great. Meanwhile, Dean's year is running out and they still haven't found a way to break it. Watch as they wrestle with these (de)pressing issues while trying to keep people from getting killed by the various other nasty beasties that kill people.

Also: Most of this is unbeta'ed as of now.

( Read Part Five! )

Title: Neglected Tragedy
Author ig_nobleigh
Rating: Still PG13 ish
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Eventual Sam/Andy/Dean
Warnings: Still none (aside from this being unbeta'd
Spoilers: All Hell Breaks Loose I and II



( Part Four )

Managed to write 1363 words in one (sort of) sitting this time!

Too bad the widget that Write or Die gives doesn't work. I'm too lazy to go back and delete it from my posts though.

Title: To Cross a Line
Author: ig_nobleigh
Fandom: Numb3rs
Rating: FRM
Pairing: Charlie/Penfield (unrequited)
Warnings: Slash, Voyeurism, (unbeta'ed)
Summary: "Charlie still had his back facing the door and Penfield willed him to turn so he could see more..."

( The Fic )

<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" bgcolor="#140909"><tr><td width=77><img src="http://lab.drwicked.com/iwrote.png" border="0"></td><td width=83 style="color:#FFFFFF; font-family:impact, arial black; font-size:24pt;"> 502</td></tr><tr><td colspan=2 width=160 align="center"><img src="http://lab.drwicked.com/wordsin.png" border="0"></td></tr><tr><td colspan=2 width=56 align="center" style="color:#FFFFFF; font-family:impact, arial black; font-size:22pt;">22  <img src="http://lab.drwicked.com/minutes.png" border="0"></td></tr><tr><td colspan=2 align="center"><a href="http://lab.drwicked.com/writeordie.html" alt="Check out Write or Die"><img src="http://lab.drwicked.com/withwod.png" border=0></a></td></tr><tr><td align="center" colspan=2><a href="http://lab.drwicked.com" alt="Visit Dr Wickeds Writing Lab" style="color:#FFFFFF; text-decoration:none; font-family:arial black; font-size:8pt">lab.drwicked.com</a></td></tr></table>

I also accomplished cleaning the bathroom until it was fucking sparkilng, and the dog better not go in there to hide from the snow falling off the roof and get her hair everywhere because I sweeped that room like five times because of her!

I will.  No matter what I have to do.  Which is literally as simple as writing 3,800 words.

Though since I just wrote 477 words in 21 minutes that number can now be adjusted to about 3,330 words.  Progress is being made.

PS.
And please God somebody tell me why the advertisement bar on the side of my screen is telling me to visit the Official Site of Tom Cruise?!

<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" bgcolor="#140909"><tr><td width=77><img src="http://lab.drwicked.com/iwrote.png" border="0"></td><td width=83 style="color:#FFFFFF; font-family:impact, arial black; font-size:24pt;"> 504</td></tr><tr><td colspan=2 width=160 align="center"><img src="http://lab.drwicked.com/wordsin.png" border="0"></td></tr><tr><td colspan=2 width=56 align="center" style="color:#FFFFFF; font-family:impact, arial black; font-size:22pt;">39  <img src="http://lab.drwicked.com/minutes.png" border="0"></td></tr><tr><td colspan=2 align="center"><a href="http://lab.drwicked.com/writeordie.html" alt="Check out Write or Die"><img src="http://lab.drwicked.com/withwod.png" border=0></a></td></tr><tr><td align="center" colspan=2><a href="http://lab.drwicked.com" alt="Visit Dr Wickeds Writing Lab" style="color:#FFFFFF; text-decoration:none; font-family:arial black; font-size:8pt">lab.drwicked.com</a></td></tr></table>

Go me!

Linda and I are doing a mini NaNoWriMo.  25,000 words by the end of the month.  But I'm cheating and not working on one piece for the whole time because I want to finish my old stuff.

So, current cumulative count: a measly 1,526 words.

This is why I'm an English major: I'm watching TV and I just saw a Brinks Home Security commercial.  If you are ever asked for an example of how women are still not perceived as equal I suggest you bring up commercials, especially the most recent Brinks pair.

The wife kisses the husband goodbye, she watches as he backs out of the driveway.  A jogger stops on the sidewalk to tie his shoes.  He watches the husband roll out of the driveway too.  As soon as he drives off the jogger puts up his hood and charges at the door.  The wife is washing dishes at the sink when he bursts trhough the door.  She breaks the dish in her shock but the alarm rings out and scares the burglar off.  The phone rings, hurray it's the Brinks Home Security Man, complete with broad shoulders and chiseled jaw.  (Sidenote: all the people in the commercial are white, but at least they didn't make the burglar a black guy right?)

Then I thought, hey, isn't the victim in the other Brinks commercial a woman too?  Yes, yes it is indeed.  This time it's a young woman getting ready for a date, trying to decide what to wear when she hears a noise at the door and a black-clad figure (presumably a man, from the size but it would be unfair of me to assume anything) breaks the glass door. Then the alarm rings, and voila the Brinks home Security Man makes the call and "[sends] help now." 

I also remember a third commercial now, also with a female victim, this time an adolescent whose parents have just driven off for a party or something.  Also with trusty Brinks Home Security Man answering the phone, instructing her to "stay on the line while [he sends] help."

Three commercials, three female victims, three male saviors, and at least one, presumably three male assailants, two of which waited for the man of the house to drive off before attacking.

Moral of the story?  Men are the protectors, women are the damsels in distress in need of protecting, and even when the only action required by the savior is pressing a few buttons, the protecting and saving STILL needs to be done by a man.  And no man is ever in distress.  Men are always in the position of power.

And should you ever use this example and get the response "Oh more of this feminist crap again!"  in my opinion men should be pissed about this portrayal too!  It's this kind of crap that keeps many men from asking for help if they have been or are being victimized and makes them ashamed for being victimized and supposedly weak if they manage to overcome their initial hesitation at seeking help/redress.  I would be pissed about that if I were a man!  That's no fucking fair!

What are guys supposed to do, pump iron until they have no necks and stay up with a shotgun in their hand just on the offchance they get robbed? Because apparently Brinks doesn't intend to protect men with their alarms, only women and property, if the designers of this commercial can even distinguish the two.

You could pick pretty much any other commercial you've ever seen and do the same kind of analysis.  Most of the time television images are Not subtle in their stereotyping.  No one is safe!

For once it is not a feminist rant-ish article, it's a "guys aren't al assholes" warm and squishy article about how most guys actually prefer Real Women's Bodies and not fake parts.  So enough wiht the boob jobs already.

http://lifestyle.msn.com/relationships/articleglamourmatch.aspx?cp-documentid=9495249&GT1=32023

http://www.theonion.com/content/news/local_idiot_to_post_comment_on 

The article is called: "Local Idiot to Post Comment On Internet."  

Quote: "Later this evening, I intend to watch the video in question, click the 'reply' link above the box reserved for user comments, and draft a response, being careful to put as little thought into it as possible, while making sure to use all capital letters and incorrect punctuation," said Mylenek.

http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200107/allen

I love when people write articles about the rise of commercialism in this country that are heartening rather than depressing.  In the above article: how chain bookstores, far from spelling doom and gloom to all intellectualism in this country, have brought more serious titles to the suburbs (where I and the majority of the population actually live, you NYC snobs) to rural areas and into popular culture than ever before.

So basically all the independents and bloggers moaning about the end of intellectualism brought by big chains are really moaning about the end of intellectual elitism adn their own membership in a no longer all that exclusive club.

I read something similar recently on a livejournal community where two gay and one straight person were complaining about the recent fad of bisexualism/homosexuality basically saying that it's all wannabe's now.  To a certain extent I can agree with that because I'm betting that the majorit of the girls participating in lesbian scenes with their friends in Girls Gone Wild or kissing each other at frat parties are only doing for the male attention it gets.

But correct me if I'm wrong but the recent so-called fad of homosexuality has made it more acceptable to Be homosexual and where previous generations had to hide it or face endles brutality or at the least stern disapproval can now come out of the closet without That Much fear.  One of the coments said "Sorry you used to be special and now you're no longer part of this exclusive club."

Yes, exactly.

 Well my three-day vacation wiht my sister was pretty much a bust.  The weather sucked so we didn't even get a chance to lounge around outside, we just had to stay in.  I spent pretty much the entire time working on the puzzle I bought at Learning Express (which I intend to do again sometime soon, when I can do the whole thing myself.)

I was feeling off all weeked my head full of fuzz probably because I was on and off my pills because I was running out.  My stomach was all unsettled the whole time, made shopping kind of a bitch.

We went to Sydney's again.  Our waitress sucked.  The salad was awesome as usual.  I wish I'd gotten the prok and leek dumplings instead of the fish sandwich.  And next time I am getting spinach because Carolyn got some and they make it with garlic and butter and it was really insanely tasty.  I should learn how to make it.

The Mist is a very upsetting movie.

I need to hurry up and apply to Barnes and Noble or I will end up working at Walmart.

I need to read my library books.

http://www.sciam.com/article.cfm?id=bisexual-species

Read the comments, they're even more entertaining than the article.  

PS. I don't really see much problem in extrapolating the results of that article to the human species.  Some of the prime examples bisexuality came from primates of various types so it would not be far-fetched to conclude that since it also occurs in humankind it is not "unnatural" despite what morality may say about it.

I suppose people are entitled to the belief that it is immoral so long as they also acknowledge that the rest of the world and particularly the government and its laws are not obligated to enforce their morality any more than the government is obligated to take rights from those who practice pre-marital sex or other moral equivalents.  The failed attempt to abolish alcohol from the US comes to mind.  That law was based on strong enough moral grounds to get an amendment ratified but was repealed shortly after because the many many people who didn't share that moral judgement on alcohol were furious and disobeyed the law.

I am currently voluntarily reading a four-part essay accessed through my university library, continually supressing the urge to take notes, though I don't think I can hold out much longer.

God I love my brain.

Of course the fact that the essay is on the history of lesbianism and not say, some BS about Foucault does help quite a bit in retaining my interest. =)