Network

I have way too much time on my hands. Need to find a job.

Another day, another weird dream. Is it bad that this is becoming almost normal?

What was that?

Did anyone else feel that? Was it a quake?

Well THAT wasn't the way I thought my super awesome revenge plan was going to go.

...I actually think it was better.

Oliver Queen.

I beat Oliver Fucking Jonas Fucking Queen!

It was a smaller scale event. No public or anything, just a bunch of anachronistic and extremely cocky weirdos with arrows, a field somebody had set up, an event officiated by Barton and judged by an actual field marshal. And my score...My score was HIGHER.

Can't let it get to me. I have too many more points to rack up if I want to rank by the end of the calendar year and the best way to keep winning is to focus on ME, and not him, but all the same....

I did it. I actually seriously did it.

It doesn't feel the way I thought it would. That little burst of petty need to see him trampled at my feet is gone. I did it not because I COULD, but cause I wanted to.

On top of all the bad things going on, sometimes a few amazing ones happen too.

I can't decide if I'm ashamed of letting myself go and not being at the top of my game, or proud of the fact that the kid I taught to use a bow just beat me in competition. Looks like it's time to pass the torch.

Ever have your kid surpass you at something you love? How in the fuck do you cope?

[Open to everyone]
So was anyone else's linked situation actually kind of pleasant?


[Locked to Michiru]
If you see this, I need to talk to you. I had an idea and I think you're going to love it. But don't tell Haruka about anything.

[Locked to Roland]

I don't know if this is forward or not, but I'd like to see you in a..non-linked fashion. Like real people.

Is a teenage boy supposed to cry when one makes an observation about the size of his penis?

Sister used my keys for something, then locked me out. Fantastic. It's late and I can't find a stupid locksmith.

FML. Actually FTD. Fuck this door. Should I smash a window? Except then it would just be open and that would be bad.

It's going to be annoying rough getting used to the idea of people expecting an instant reply to emails, texts, phone calls.. I've only been back a week and part of me already wants to throw this smartphone into the ocean.

But here I am, complaining about the internet to the internet. Seems a little rude.

My sticky person is cooler than your sticky person.

That is all.

I am afraid I had to burn a book today.

My name is Buffy Summers and I have officially gone insane. No, I mean it. I'm crazy, but it's okay because this time crazy has company. I can't seem to get away from this doctor, but at least he's nice and is humoring me? And he's going to come with me to my last final today. And my graduation on Saturday.... because that's important.

I am strangely calm about this all things considered, but talking it out helped a lot. Lots of talking.

You are banned from the premises of Urdnot Ranch.

Don't fight me on this and don't make me get a lawyer on it.

Bringing drugs here goes against everything this place stands for.

Not cool.

We are not friends.

And I know those were your brownies, so don't even try to wriggle out of this.

CORN!

Corn is evil, corn is conving and corn NEVER sleeps.

Corn is a product used to manipulate, brainwash and enslave EVERYONE through corn syrup, corn DOGS and corn on the cobb.

IT MUST BE STOPPED HERE AND NOW. Who's with me?

So what's this Twitter thing I keep hearing about on the news?

I'm not sorry.

Gather around, kittens. I've got a short story for one and all.

Pretty hysterical woman thinks husband is cheating on her. He's a man of means her husband is, his name being a key to unlock many gates. The pretty woman was able to keep him all to herself for a year, a grand feat if there ever was one. But now he's set to a wandering and she's suspicious and would like to know who has stolen the majority of her husband's time.

Another woman?

Another man?

No and no. He's found a new mistress all right. Not one she would ever expect - shark diving.


( Wish you were here )

School is out in two weeks. I get a full week off and then its four weeks of accelerated calculus classes at the college. Guess my summer is getting a late start.

We've been working on career aptitude crap and the guidance councilor sighs every time I've got to walk into her office. She calls me 'unique' which, I think, is the polite way of saying difficult.

I'm fine with who I am. I don't understand why most people feel the need to tell me who I should be.

Huh. Looks like I get the internet on this fancy new "smartphone". Still don't see what's so smart about it, though. And I still prefer my old Nokia, but somebody insists they don't make them anymore.

Are you out there?

I need some help. I need to PM the FBI.

How do I PM the FBI?

Say you've got a dangerous weapon. Could be chemical, organic. Whatever. And it's going to go off sooner or later and hurt everything. You'd naturally destroy the thing before it hurts anybody or can get near them again, particularly when its only purpose is to wreck a path of chaos, right?

I don't know if I'm doing this right, but you're a friend of Shepard's, so...

Kind of hoping you've seen or heard from her. She didn't show up today. The Shepard I know shows up. Calls go straight to voice mail.

Don't tell her this but I'm actually worried.

So then, boys and girls. It's just about time for things to get exciting.

Leaving aside the charity ball, we still have several auctions starting up, with the goal of fundraising to get our local athletes to London for the Olympics next month. They're leaving soon, so they'll have time to train at their various venues in advance, and that means that we need to step up our game in order to get them there.

I have six jackets, each of them very individualistic and one-of-a-kind, in sizes XS, S, M, L, XL, and 2X, all of which are dedicated to the dream of health and athleticism at every size, with a subtly Olympian motif. If you have questions, feel free to ask them, but the actual auction for them will end on Saturday night at the charity ball. If you absolutely must have one, please send me a private message with your maximum bid. I'll let you know if the ball's maximum bid at the silent auction is higher, so you'll have a chance to outmatch it, unless an assortment of people are all desperate for the same size, in which case... well, we'll see.

And, because I know well the power of the Internet to awe and amaze, I'm going to turn to you, boys and girls: Olympian athletes are not a corporation, and therefore sponsoring them to get to the Olympics can, and perhaps should, be crowdsourced. Nothing at all says that you can't donate $5 to help your favorite local athlete get a chance to shine. If a thousand people all donate whatever they have lying around in their PayPal accounts, I'm completely certain at least four teams would have their total expenses covered instantaneously.

[ooc: artificial PayPal DONATE! button]

It is not a good idea to leave kids alone at home on their own regardless of how old they are.

I will be spending the weekend in recovery from the semester's end rush. After that, I will find myself with an abundance of time on my hands. I think I'd like to take up a new hobby.

[Kirk]
You asked me about helping with your spaceship quite some time ago. I will now be able to help in whatever fashion you'd like me to.

[Uhura]
I would very much like to take you to dinner soon. And perhaps you'd like to come over sometime this weekend? I would not force my cooking upon you, but we could order food and watch movies, if you like that sort of thing. (Is inviting you over in such a fashion a suitable move for our current relationship status?)

Aw hell. They hiked the cig tax again. All that's going to do is inspire me to be a more successful citizen to afford 'em. Somehow doubt that's what they were going for.

Name's Jim. I run a little tavern off Aurora named Joeyray's. Pleased to meet you all.

Are you happy, Six? I finally got on this bloody thing. It only took me all day to set up. Who comes up with these things? They should be shot.

[Locked to Family]

Hello dearies. We're going to have fun.

My first day back to work after my vacation and I come back to my desk to find it buried in paperwork.

On top of that I have about 85 emails from various dating sites. Apparently my kids thought it'd be funny as hell to sneak into my office and sign me up for them. I'm not sure if I should be happy or sad that I have some pictures of breasts in my in box.

Ladies on the internet, Wrex is flattered, but he's got 'no' tattooed on his ring finger for a reason.

[ Locked to Shepard ]

Thanks for looking after the ranch with Roy while I was out of town and everything. I think I need to talk to you.

Before I explain what my problem is, and why I freaked out when I got up this morning, I've got to give you a little background here. See, the last eighteen months of my life has been a fucked up cesspool of my own making. I ran away for really stupid reasons when I was seventeen and thought that I knew everything, and I haven't even had the guts to have a conversation with my godfather about it once. In fact, we haven't spoken since the night I stalked out of Oliver's place, promising him that I'd never come back. That's something that's been on my mind with going back to archery, since obviously, you don't get taught by Oliver Fucking Queen and EVER set foot on a range without him in the back of your head.

Obviously, we know I've been kind of obsessed lately, mostly since I miss the guy, and I could really use him to get me back from my stupid ass injury, but well, last night was the first dream I've ever had about him.

So. in this dream, I was standing outside some kind of government building with a few other people, and dressed completely...weirdly. Then this massive guy up at a podium said something about me, and the two people I was with, were heroes and inducted into the league.

A bunch of cameras went off and the whole thing was really freaking surreal, until Oliver appeared right next to me and started shaking my hand and saying something about how proud he was of me. Did I mention Ol was wearing a really fucked up version of his typical archery kit? For fuck's sake, he was even wearing a goddamned Robin Hood hat. And then, I don't know. In the dream I was incredibly happy, and, well, satisfied with how things had turned out and that Oliver had actually acknowledged me as being his equal.

It felt...Right somehow. Like the rightness I've been needing for the longest time.

I miss him . And the dream just made it worse. I think I'm taking Wrex up on his suggestion of a couple laps in the pool. See if having some kind of focus can make the bad thoughts go away.

Fuck, my life.

Edit: I can't deal with this shit. Anybody willing to do a booze run for someone who's legal in Canada and Europe?

http://t.co/bKLuGhkw

Enjoy!

Every time someone makes a post here, I feel ten years older.

I don't make my kids do anything that I'm not willing to do, so Rapunzel's teaching me to paint.

It's not working so well. I feel like I have clumsy man hands.

Probably because I do.

It's supposed to help with inner peace and expression and maybe even anger management. I'm not sure that last part is working, I keep wanting to shove the paintbrush through the canvas and then beat the canvas and easel into the floor.

But that would make Zel cry, and no one wants that.

Some mornings you just want a real adult, you know?

That little nagging voice you hear when you know something's wrong and you know it's gonna be a pain to deal with, but it doesn't leave you alone until you handle it? Yeah, that'd be me right now.

Since we're on the subject of polling, and sharing questions and bonding through it or whatever shit here, I've got a question for YOU, network. Say you get arrested for some stupid petty crime, like a brawl gone out of hand, or drunk and disorderly or whatever conduct people think means you're unsafe, who's the friend you'd call to bail you out? Who's the friend who'd actually be sitting in jail next to you and grinning?

In other general questions, is what I'm pretty sure constitutes a form of torture a decent motive or defense for murdering your sadistic bitch of a PT?

Hey valarnet. I'm Roy, I'm new and looking for a guy named Wrex. Word on the street is he can hook me up with the chance I need. Anybody know where I can find him?

Crawling through a dumpster was NOT really how I wanted to spend this morning. I think there's still some beer residue and Mcdonald's nugget sauce in my hair. Not really my best look ever, I'm sorry to say. The library almost didn't let me in, even. All because my jerkass friend decided it'd be funny to dump my bag in there to see if I'd go get it.

Why do I stick around such idiots?

As it seems the past few days have been dedicated to what can only be described as "hypothetical" questioning, I am now going to attempt to steer the community in a different direction. Polling.

How old is the average poster here? If you feel uncomfortable divulging your age, you may pick a range.

So what's the fucking point of this thing, anyway? Can't you meet at a bar and talk face to face? No chance to self-edit.

Speaking of bars, why do the good fights always happen on the nights I'm not there? Varric, how many times have I told you to call me. Could have saved you on property damage.

Maybe the one that helped me with the ducks?

I have all of this software in my computer that's supposed to help me run the Ranch, and I'm looking for someone to help me figure it out.

I don't really trust the kids anymore, since ... well... ducks.

Also they put porn on my computer.

I'd like to get rid of the porn on my computer but when I tried to do that it multiplied.

It's not that I don't like porn, mind you, just I'm old fashioned and it doesn't belong on my ... whatsit. Hard drive. That's what magazines are for.

Anyway, you can call the ranch. Or reply here. Or whatever.

I'm willing to pay for lessons to make me look like less of an idiot when I try to text message people too.

*thumbs up*

...Anybody here know anything much about dogs? Only we never had them as kids. I've always liked them but I'm sort of clueless, and...this one was hanging around campus waiting for me this afternoon. No collar, and she ate four bags of chips and a payday bar from the machine since I know those haven't got chocolate on, and then was sick all over my shoes.

It was about that moment I realized I have not got any idea what I'm doing.

Right now she's having an overnight or two at the vet so they can help her get better. There was talk about an iv and fluids and she possibly was dying when I found her. I told them money is no object when it comes to saving her, as long as she's not hurting, and her eyes were brighter when I left and she licked my hand and things.

I think she's probably my dog, but I've got NO idea what I'm going to do here, or if my place even allows me to have dogs.

Hope she'll be okay.


( have a quick photo )

It is a strange practice writing on a network where I do not know most of the people. At least on Facebook, I know who is reading the words I throw into the ether. Most of those people are interested in what I have to say, understand my humor, and are teachers or students. Here, I am not entirely sure of the demographics that make up the user-base and that makes it unnerving. But I must soldier on. Or quickly delete my account, I suppose.

My name is Spock. I look forward to making your acquaintances.

Someone at my ranch thought it was a good idea for me to sign up for this ... whatever it is. I feel like you people are all tiny people sitting inside my computer than real, actual people.

That makes me sound old.

My kids broke into my office. They played around with this thing's settings. Now I'm staring at baby colors and ducks.

I do not like baby colors and ducks.

I can't figure out how to get these %#@$ing ducks off my ... thing. Blog? It's called a blog, right? Right.

I'm grumpy and I need a drink. They're laughing at me now. Let's see how much they're laughing when I make them peel potatoes for dinner tonight.