Network

For those of you who don't know me or know the Lannister name, I am Tywin Lannister and you ought to know that already. There's a severe lack of knowledge in this country, a lack of knowledge about surroundings, industry, history, science, all of it. When I see ridiculous fools on the television spouting inane prattle I'm reminded of that old Isaac Asimov statement.

There is a cult of ignorance in the United States, and there always has been. The strain of anti-intellectualism has been a constant thread winding its way through our political and cultural life, nurtured by the false notion that democracy means that "my ignorance is just as good as your knowledge."

He does have an excellent point, even if he was a damned liberal.

Hello. My name is Joseph, I'm something of a lifer here, I guess. Born and raised in Irvine, and now working at a book store here.

One of my coworkers was urging me to be more social and meet some new people, and suggested this network.

So hello, it's nice to meet all of you.

I am pleased to be out and about again. And my papa is in a good mood as well.

... I just wish he and his lady friend would be more quiet. I hear very well. Too well.

After dark, I think I may sneak out.

I've really put off this for too long, haven't I? Everyone's always talking about this network, and I hate being out of the loop.

Jay Gatsby, and it's a genuine pleasure.

I'm thinking I want to get a motorcycle. Don't know what kind yet. Anyone know which ones are good?

So, uh, Logan? You're not allowed to sneak off and shag Remy anymore.

You guys, the impossible happened today. Remy LeBeau proposed. (I said yes. I'm not stupid.)

The surrealistic nocturnal worlds presented in these dreams is apparently something that not even I am immune to, which is disappointing. I'd been hoping to get away unscathed.

What does, suck, though, is that apparently I dream in TV Tropes. There I am, the baddest demon in Hell, but one day, apparently I pull a Heel Face Turn and decide I'm sick of it. And I'm not even a demon who used to be human. I was made from a serial killer heart.

How the heck does that work?

oh god my dreams

i did not think they could get worse

Whenever life gets really really terrible, I slow down, take a breath, and I remind myself: I do not manage Amanda Bynes.

What happened, adorable little star of She's The Man?

Because I know you all care so much (SARCASM!), I'm giving you a STATE OF THE BABY UPDATE.

1) The baby is now the size of a sweet potato! This is awesome because it means I can feel her kick. But it's's kind of bad because now I imagine my baby as a delicious warm confection topped with marshmallows.

2) Pete kinda sucks at wall painting. His hair is now an awesome shade of blue-green in some places.

3) Barfing is done, but now I've got heartburn out the ying yang. ET TU, CURRY?

4) I might have built an elaborate trebuchet based delivery system for diapers out of two-by-fours. I'm also not sorry.

Hello, valarnet. Longtime lurker, new poster. Some of you may know me already, but those who don't, my name's Lo. Yes, it's a nickname, no, I'm not telling you my real name. If you need it, you'll know it, now stop being so snoopy.

I know some of you because I represent you, but to those I don't, I apologize in advance for offending you. It'll happen. Give it time, dears.

My trousers seem to be misbehaving today. I know I have said that before, but this time I really mean it.

Treacherous, unreliable things, trousers.

I'm leaving.

... just for the night. I'll find somewhere to sleep. I can't stay here.

More weird vivid dreams. Still in jail. This time there was a matron who paid real close attention to me, let's say. She was doing favors for me like trying to set me up with a vaudeville tour. Except she wanted me to pay $50 for a phone call - like $500 today. No, Logan, no word on if I paid her in something else.

Redbook did do a whole article about me, though. The "Infamous Double Murderess, Velma Kelly." Honestly, that's funnier than anything else.

I am a genius! You know those delicious marshmallow vodkas? Well, I wanted some Peep flavoured vodka, which they do not make. A rather large hole in the market, I feel!

However. I fixed that.

( Cut for SFW image, just size. )

I'm marvelous, I know.

Hey Thea. Guess what. So over you..

In other news, how are you guys? I feel great. Like a weight is off my shoulders.

I know that the singing thing is over (at least I hope so), but I still feel like I should be singing something from Fiddler on the Roof. Matchmaker, maybe?

Two people here owe me and Kitty lunch.

This is going to sound weird, but are there any ladies - or guys, I guess - on this network who are familiar with pole-dancing? I learned to do it in college but I've kind of been wanting to pick it back up. Great workout, aside from the other benefits.

♫ Watch me move, when I lose, when I lose it hard
Get you off with the touch dancing in the dark
You notice what I'm wearing,
I noticin' you're staring
You know that I can take it,
To the next level, baby
Hotter than the A-list,
Next one on my hit list
Baby, let me blow your mind
Tonight

I can't take it, take it, take no more
Never felt like, felt like this before
Come on get me, get me on the floor
DJ what you, what you waiting for?

See the sunlight, we ain't stopping
Keep on dancing till the world ends ♫

So, hey. Last night sucked, and then I had dreams. Remember the dumpy husband from the beginning of my dreams? Caught him fucking my sister.

So I stabbed them both. And then got popped for it.

So I wake up sweating bullets and somehow righteously angry, only to find my black stage costume lying at the foot of my bed. Spangles and sequins and fringe going from my ass halfway down my thighs.

The dreams aren't fucking funny anymore. Though the costume is really hot.

Another hero - another mindless crime.
Behind the curtain, in the pantomime.
Hold the line!
Does anybody want to take it anymore?
The Show must go on!
The Show must go on!
Inside my heart is breaking,
My make-up may be flaking,
But my smile still stays on!

ETA a few minutes later: .... well, that could have been worse. I held out a while. And I've been told my voice doesn't make people want to kill themselves.

♫ however far away
i will always love you
however long i stay
i will always love you
whatever words i say
i will always love you ♫

♫ I wanna love you, but I better not touch
I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop
I wanna kiss you, but I want it too much
I wanna taste you, but your lips are venomous poison ♫

This is insane. I'm cutting the rest of my classes and going home. The music department - well - the ENTIRE arts department - is a jumble of chorus lines and ballads and, god help us all, even arias.

I cannot even be here right now. I'm not sure if I'm glad to see it's been happening county-wide or not. At first I thought the voice students were all just being assholes. Guess not.

Can't wait to be safe and sound. Or, I guess, in this case, silent.

♪ What is this feeling, so sudden and new?
I felt the moment I laid eyes on you
My pulse is rushing, my head is reeling
My face is flushing - what is this feeling?
Fervid as a flame, does it have a name?
Yes - loathing! Unadulterated loathing! ♫

I have an apprenticeship at a motorcycle repair shop. I don't think that's what my mother intended when she told me to make friends, but it's what I want anyway. I do not know how to ride motorcycles, but I think I'll learn.

My boss is kind of abrasive, but I think with time I can teach him.

If someone asks me if I'm Lindsay Lohan one more time, I'm going to light them on fire.

... So hey, call me curious, ladies of the county. I really like the guy, but I've been hearing so much around.

Has Logan Howlett in fact had sex with the OC?

Girls have too much stuff in the bathroom. I was taking a shower earlier and went to get my shampoo and knocked over like four bottles of shampoo that Alyssa keeps in there. Why does she need four different shampoos? And don't get me started on all the stuff under the sink and on the sink. I don't even know what half that stuff is for. I keep like soap, shampoo and my toothbrush in there and that's it. Why do girls need so much stuff?

I also had another dream last night. In it, I was in kind of the same situation with my parents as in real life, but the difference was that my mom told me who my father was practically from birth. She told me about him often, including the fact that he was a fucking superhero! When I was ten she decided to just dump me on him, which was the first he knew about me. Neither of us were very happy with that, it would seem. I was also kind of a brat in my dreams.

The fucking bitch. Teach me to try and show affection. Or put any fucking effort into a relationship.

I wish I were 21 and then I could drink.

Thankfully I have more class and honesty than to fucking name names. Cheating asshole.

[TW: in comments for mention of their father and what he's done]

That hurt less than I thought it would. I also managed to ruin the dinner table. Got fuckin' ginsu knives in my hands now.

So, I may have totally had the best dreams ever last night. It was a blast!

I dreamt I had a sister, and we did a jazz act in the '20s in Chicago. I was a vaudeville star, and I had a husband who did all our bookings and stuff.

The only thing is, I'd like to think I could do better than a dumpy balding guy who thought Toronto was in England somewhere.

Fucking shit! I don't know what the hell you people are on here, but this Wonderland trippy crap needs to be over. I just got fucking mugged walking down the street by a playing card. He stopped me, pushed me, asked who I was, and when I tried to turn away, he grabbed my fucking purse off my shoulder.

I don't know where law enforcement or the military or whatever are here, but they better be handling the Goddamn problem. How can anyone do business here?

At this rate, if anyone teaches self defense, I'd be interested.

I have been wearing earplugs for the last two days, because my guitar has been playing itself nonstop. It's not very good either. In fact, it's the worst self playing guitar ever. If it keeps up any longer, it may just put me off music all together.

I wanted to put you all on notice: Hard Edge Couture is expanding into men's shoes. And we'll need testers for our boots and shoes.

I intend to have a market share similar to Berluti and J.M. Weston; prices will run in the $250-$350 range, but the materials are quality. Mostly leather, but a few skins. Stingray, if it can be gotten legally and sustainably.

Interested in testing out a pair or two? Let me know, gentlemen. There'd be small compensation, and you might get to keep the pair you try out. I'd be happy to set up a meeting in the near future, though I suppose I'll need office space. Especially if my carriage house remains a giant fucking sentient rosebush.

Seriously, what the hell is wrong with the OC.

So. Um. I came to the OC to meet with buyers for my shoe line. Not screw around with somebody's Alice in Wonderland crazy-ass hallucination shit. Never had a trip this bad even in my twenties. Explanation? Please?

If you don't know me, by the way, the name's Velma Kelly. Of the San Francisco Kellys.