Helenbach, USA

                                                                                                      ...but that's just me.

Cactus Clowns

READ THE STORY BEFORE YOU LOOK AT THE PHOTO
>
>This is one of those classic occurrences in life where things go wrong in
>spite of the good intentions of everyone involved. A group of elementary
>students was given a class project: to make a ceramic pot, to fill it with
>soil and some sort of plant, to water and fertilize it
>and give it time to grow. At the successful completion of the project each
>student would be allowed to take their planter home to their families. Each
>child was given a green pottery planter shaped like a clown. These they
>painted with glaze and had them professionally fired at a class outing where
>they could watch the process. It was great fun.
>
>The students wanted to grow something that would be easy to look after, and
>after some discussion they decided on cactus plants. They filled the pots
>with earth and planted the cactus. As the days passed the cactus began to
>grow. Yet in the end their teacher decided that the kids would NOT be
>allowed to take the cactus planters home after all. Instead the cacti were
>yanked out
>of the planters and a small ivy was planted to replace them, which the
>children eventually were allowed to take home.
>
>Their teacher later said the cactus plants had seemed like a good idea at
>the time. . . .

And HERE is the picture of the Cactus Clowns. See just why the teachers didn't let the kids take 'em home.

"We're going radioactive, Cap'n."

Dreams, Denim and Doobie Brothers (the Doobie Brothers really have nothing to do with this- I just needed another alliterative 'd' word to make the subject sound witty.

I awoke craving Froot Loops. There were none. So I grabbed a cup of reheated coffee and went back into my room, downloaded the song I had heard in my dream. My brother and nephew stopped by for brunch and my dad informed us that he intended to rent a small bulldozer to level the back yard. Literally. I hear the drone of machinery outside my window and can only pray that my more-accident-prone-than-Clark Grizzwald father won't plow the dozer through my bedroom walls (which reminds me of poor Arthur Dent's case in The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams).

I've been irked much over the subject of blue jeans, specifically, my blue jeans. I don't know (or care) about anyone else's clothes preference, but I live in blue jeans. They're supposed to be durable, right? I mean, they've been around since the days of the wild west- they'd have to be tough. Well, right now most of the jeans I buy are pretty tough, but I tell you, when you wear a pair of jeans for an entire day and sleep in them one time, they're all bagged out by the time you wake up! I've got a pancake ass and it doesn't help to hold them up. Nowadays everyone's into the low-slung, belly-button showing fad (even on lads) and unless you like you jeans skin tight, there is no way in hell those bastards are going to live through three day's wear. I woke up with the waist of my jeans around my knees, and unless I was having a Jizz Dream (which I wasn't) or Lucas tried to get at me while I was sleeping (which I doubt) , I am highly dismayed at the state of denim these days. It just ain't what it used to be. 

Money for nothin' and your checks for free.

It was 1985 (it might have been a later year, either that or I was just a prodigy as I was very young then) but still I recall it. I was sitting in the backseat of the car next to my brother (a sulky, sarcastic preteen image of what I was to become) and we were listening to Dire Straits' "Money For Nothing" cassette where a sample of the lyrics went as: "...that ain't working, that's the way ya do it. Ya get your- money for nothin' and your chicks for free..."  

I asked of my mum so innocently, "What's he saying? What are chicks? Why does he get them for free?" Curiosity killed the chibi, folks. And my mum -bless her heart- not wanting to give me the impression that "chicks" were filthy sluts who could be bought with pieces of paper, replied, "You know those things that I write in the grocery store to pay with?"

"Checks!" I warbled happily, then was quiet. Checks meant money, and if that bloke got his checks for free... "Wow," I said in breathless awe. "He must be rich."

To this day, I still sing, "Ya get your- money for nothin' and your checks for free."

"There's a place for everything and everything should be in its place."

Gad-! It's the groundhogs of the Apocalypse!

Luckily, a secret society has been formed to fight this threat to humanity, and they are called the Rodenteers! These brave heroes patrol the galaxy in search of evil groundhogs and ultimately the planet of Grodorg itself. While we do not see the battle for ourselves it is going on every day of our lives, in the vast reaches of space or just a few feet under the azalea bush in your front garden. So every February 3rd, if you wake with your jugular intact and a habitat that isn't charred and still smoking from the aftermath of a nuclear meltdown, say your thanks to a Rodenteer. Who knows--you might even be one someday.

This piece of unbelievable rubbish (graphics, conceptual storyline and Grodorg) has been brought to you by Bender. All characters and events in the preceding are entirely true. Any similarities between characters and actual people is purely a miracle.

LETTERS FROM NOËL

Subject: wish you could SMELL this!!

I just farted and MAN it smelled GrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreATE!!!! just wanted to let you know what you're missing. *sigh*-_- Ta ta tee in Ha! ta ta for now!

Then she said she would call me later on that night. I stayed up till 2 AM waiting and fell asleep with the phone on my bed. The next day I sent her an eGuilt Trip letter to which she replied: 

aww damn.....i forgot! I'm sorry, i do feel guilty. I'm terrible at remembering who to call. well, why didn't you just call me and chew me out for not calling instead of waiting? genius! well, maybe this'll make ya feel better.......i'm starving to death

A minute later she wrote this: 

I have wonderful news!! I'm starving to death!!

Another minute later she wrote this: 

This was revenge on Noël, and also so you can see what I have to live with. I wouldn't trade her for all the tea in China. ^_^

More irrelevant quizzes c/o board junkies like me @ rw.com. Take yours today!

Heartbeat City, here I come.

Later today I was on my laptop and going through the Yahoo! news, looking at movie trailers and such and I had the media player window lock up on me. You know that error noise it makes, like a little plunking sound? Well, I must have been really bored because I started to hum "Tainted Love" and click the X on the window to make it plunk twice, like in the song.

I entertained myself for fifteen minutes this way. It's fun bein' dumb.

"There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want."

The "About Us" section is complete, the tale of how Noël and I came to know and love RW as children. Fanfic is updated (lemons are on hold for the moment) and an interesting piece of literature known as "The Ronin Monologues" made an appearance. I worked on them all week so I didn't get to complete any other fics. Sorry. I also had to go change the look to the fics to at least get some continuity on this site. -_- In the fanart, new chibi pic and a bunch of arts that Dream Catcher of rw.com was gracious enough to colourise for me! Take a look! They're absolutely marvelous. On the main page, new Stampies and links to some of my fellow friends' and affiliates' sites! And I think that's about it. Enjoy the new look!

Coming soon: mini RW bios for those new to the show!

Thursday, 3:28 AM

"My Tale of Enlightenment"

For instance, I'd like to relate how a few months ago, probably sometime in the early fall, I was waiting in line at the returned items counter at Wal-Mart when it suddenly hit me. The meaning of Life. It all suddenly made sense to me, everything. Why we were here, our purpose, our existence, our reason for being alive at all... I went from staring at the dirty floor tiles to the ceiling, my thoughts encompassing everything that had ever been or will ever be. No, I was not tripping on acid. This was real enlightenment. I had found the key to true happiness, Nirvana, and for one brief second I was allowed to bask in the knowledge that no one else on Earth was capable of attaining. 

Then I promptly forgot it, checked out, got in my Honda and drove home to my little niche in the universe called Cedar Bluff.

HAPPY NEW YEAR! ... where'd I put my rifle?

I chose Gilligan's Island. 

Okay, enough of my tragic existence. On to more important things. Damn I've been busy. Alright, since I now find myself the owner of a laptop on which I am forced to do all my web work, my old scanner is not compatible with the new Windows XP. But! Before you go off crying and grieving (yeah right) I am going to switch my old scanner with my mum's new one. But I'd give it another week before I start reeling in my fanart again (among which is a KILLER doujinshi par moi). Onto other things.

HALO IS COMPLETE! I started it in late August I believe. And now, almost four months later, it is complete. *sighs in relief* It was a blast, peeps, but I thank the Powers That Be that the thing's over and done with. Now I can get cracking on some lemons. >:D 

Speaking of which, for all 'a you lemon-sucking horndogs out there that just can't seem to get enough yaoi in your diet, you'll notice two new additions to the lemon section of the fanfic. One is that SagexRowen lemon you've all been plugging me for and a RyoxCye fic where there's a little game of "Hit the Brit!" for your reading pleasure. Enjoy. >:D~~~~~

An Anger Management Session with Bender

I don't usually mind self-inserts in RW fanarts and fanfics but when the characters' names and shit are, like, SO completely STOLEN and it's your REAL NAME and you don't want anyone to KNOW it's your REAL NAME and there's NOTHING YOU CAN DO it gets kinda frustrating. I'm fine with male self-inserts because they're there to fight and all and it's purely simple. Hell, you don't see them trying to fuck the guys (unless they swing that way). But when you get these hoochie-ass bitches hanging all over the Ronins, after a few hundred pages of this, you want to kill something, right? Well, I DO. 

It's not so much the fucking idiocy of the piss-poor characters but the oh SO cliché, banal, trite, over-fucking-used plotline for every new character. Believe it or not, Noël and I have our own self-insert characters. That's all I wrote from '95-'00 was self-insert fanfics. But I thought, you know. I'm going to open a site and I want to make it different. I want to spare everyone from the same fucking routine that every little fangirl comes up with: 1. new armour that the main character (the all powerful and totally oblivious female) dons, 2. either fights with or against the Ronins and is the most all-powerful armour of all (yeah, like, "armour of moonbeams and rose petal rainbow kitty cat whiskers" or something decidedly girly) and 3. she ends up falling in love with one (or more) of the Ronins. Mia is usually paired up with someone in there, too, and the Ronins all called her "sister" in the OVAs. Incest. Hello. This isn't Ala-fucking-bama, people (sorry for all 'a you Bama folks out there--I couldn't resist). Even when I was writing self-inserts they never sucked as bad as some of the shit out there. The fanart is even worse, Jesus Christ, don't get me started on the fanart. Three words: burn, baby, burn. 

Okay, now onto the controversial homosexual issue of RW. I don't mind hetero fans. Most of my friends are hetero fans, and everyone's entitled to their own interpretation of the show. It's their views, the way they see it, and as long as they aren't shoving it under my nose I'm fine with it. But have you noticed that all the talented and intellectual people (most of the time) write and/or draw yaoi/yuri fanfics and fanarts? I've noticed this. I've also been doing some online research and did anyone know that Leonardo da Vinci was homosexual (I knew this before but he makes a great example)? Sophocles was a notoriously suave pederast as was Alexander the Great and his host of pretty young boys (he was also know to have a very deep, serious relationship with his best friend Hephaiston). Walt Whitman, the famous poet, had a thing for hunky men as well. These men are famous for a reason, though not their sexual preference; they were brilliant. I'm not saying all gay people are brilliant or all brilliant people are gay, it's just one of those odd coincidences. Look it up sometime. Get surprised.

Okay. This is the end of my rant. Sorry you had to see this but I feel so much better.

--12.22.01--

Holy shit, it's almost Christmas.

--12.16.01--

"On the ninth day of Christmas, my Seiji gave to me... a bitch slap for dressing him up as Missus Claus."

I have updated the "About Us" section, compelled to tell the story of how Noël and I met and came to know the Ronins. A touching tale, so get your Bon Bons and hot cider. As per request, I have also added a new fanart that will answer many questions about our Blue Boy's carpet. As in his bas, his muff, his bearded elephant, the fur in his knickerbockers, in short, Rowen's pubes (all the prudes gasp, blush and faint in any particular order). Oh, it's nothing graphic and the others' reaction to it is a kicker. I enjoyed drawing Kento very much. Still waiting for chapter 8 of "Halo", and I've got some wicked ideas for upcoming fics. And when Bender gets a wicked idea for a fic, that means it most undoubtedly will be a lemon. *slurps* I like everything lemon. Lemon cake, lemon meringue pie, lemon cookies, lemonade, lemon ice cream/sherbert (lime, too!), lemon Starbursts, Lemonheads...

Strawberry: 0/100 Pear: 20/100 Banana: 30/100 Tomato: 10/100 Lemon: 35/100

Take the What Fruit Are You? test!

--12.7.01--

"Hey, Noël. Have you decorated the twig yet?"

There's 18 days left till Xmas! We're gearing up for the holidays here at Bent Productions and Noël and I decorated the site here for the festive season. I talked her outta the queer Christmas midis, though. And since not everybody is Christian (including myself) we cater to Hanukah and Kwanzaa and all holidays celebrated around the world this time of year! Love us.

Finished chapter 7 of "Halo" and have 3 new fanarts in the gallery. I also gave a new look to the fic section as far as the key goes. Hopefully it'll be easier to understand the content now (thanks to my kleptomania) and while Noël is snoozing her ass off on my bed right now I'm sitting here busting my ass. Ah, she needs to rest up for the psychology final I'm gonna help her study for. Hopefully dinner plans centre around the beloved Chinese Buffet in our humble town and we can go stuff our faces with crab rangoons. Between the two of us, we once polished off 12 of 'em in one sitting. And I didn't even know I liked seafood! Cye's gonna kill us both...

--11.26.01--

"Darn it, Sage! How many times do I have to tell you to quit biting your toenails!?"

Rowen: "Kento, I think... I think we're stuck inside this computer."

Kento: "Here, Rowen. Sit down and have another toke."

--11.13.01--

"I'm starting to begin to commence to believe that I think I know what I'm doing."

Fanfic: Added chapter 5 to "Halo". Also put up my forgotten fic, "Shag in Drag: Sage Tells All". It's something I wrote for the fall holidays. I promise I haven't forgotten about that massive YST review sitting there collecting dust or those perverted RW figure poses. All in good time, my pretties, all in good time.

Completely off the subject as usual, Thanksgiving is in 1.57 weeks, or 11 days, or 264 hours, or 15, 840 minutes, or 950,400 seconds. I don't know about the rest of you, but I sure as hell am looking forward to gorging myself this season. :D~~~~ Mwa ha ha ha haaa! Mass turkey genocide! Bring it on, I'll eat them all! Ugh. That's really sick now that I think about it...

--11.04.01--

Ryo: Hey, Sage. How many blonds does it take to screw in a light bulb?

Sage: -_-

Ryo: One. Blonds will screw anything. ;D

Blonds that drive me crazy:

Sage (Ronin Warriors)

Cloud Strife (Final Fantasy VII)

Hyoga (Saint Seiya)

Quatre Raberba Winner (Gundam Wing--he's "cute sexy".)

Nick Carter (Backstreet Boys--I know, I know. I hate pop, but he's a blond.)

Link (Legend of Zelda--new version video games. He didn't make a good brunette.)

Shiek (Legend of Zelda, Ocarina of Time. Fuck Zelda, Shiek was real... a real hottie.)

Draco (Harry Potter--he's a little young for me, but there's always the slash fics between him and Harry. I love bitchy evil blond guys.)

Nakago (Fushigi Yûgi--Mm, powerful bitchy evil blond guy :P~~~)

Kurt Cobain (Nirvana--the one man I wish I could be, sans the untimely death thing. I drew a pic of him in about 10 minutes, one of my better real life works.)

--11.03.01--

How many haloes can a Halo Bender bend if a Halo Bender could bend haloes?

Here's a list of songs/artists I have downloaded/sampled that have to do with HALO:

Artist: The Halo Benders Song: n/a - Funky music, but cool group.

Artist: SIANsonic Song: Halo Attakk - Gorgeous song, but I can't find the lyrics.

Artist: Collide Song: Halo - Awesome! Goth/industrial femme! Beautiful song.

Artist: Deep Blue Something Song: Halo - The lyrics touched me before I even heard the song. "Breakfast At Tiffany's" was better.

Artist: The Cure Song: Halo - Ahh. The song that started it all.

Artist: SOiL Song: Halo - I CAN'T FIND THE FUCKING LYRICS!!

Artist: Oleander Song: Halo - Nice. Not my style, but the lyrics are zen.

Artist: The Benjamin Gate Song: Halo - Weird name for a Christian rock band.

Artist: Texas Song: Halo - Ugh. Country. >:P

Artist: Depeche Mode Song: Halo - It's okay to like their music... if you're gay. Cye: (singing along to a D.M. song) I~I feeeeeel  loooved... Noël: Cye, yoh so fucking gay it's unbelievable. Cye: I 'ear they're 'iring down in Picadilly, sis. Why don't you go apply foh tha' street corner window office?

Artist: One Line Drawing Song: Halo - The copy I started downloading was really, really crappy. I hear O.L.D. is a solo artist named Jonah. Brilly.

Artist: Hoyt Axton Song: Rusty Old Halo - Retch. More country.

Artist: Halo Effect Song: n/a - Never heard of 'em.

Artist: Luna Halo Song: n/a - Heard of 'em but never cared, probably cos they're a Christian band. -_- And I'm not... exactly... into that.

Artist: Halo Song: n/a - They're an unknown Aussie rock band.

I have no rights to these songs but dammit, I should. I hated getting info for all those songs, some of which I had to download (and use up valuable hard drive space). It prolonged my audience to Rob Zombie's "Feel So Numb" song I badly wanted to hear rather than halo junk, and it made me very bitchy. But I'm zen now; I'm rattling the windows it's so loud. XD

--11.01.01--

"OH MY GOSH-!"

*crash boom sizzle*

After a journey that lasted for many many moons and encounters with rare creatures believed to be extinct (a.k.a. the Jelly Belliesaurus from two Easters ago and old high school memorabilia) I managed to unearth and excavate the instructions from the depths of my keepsakes trunk. Phase two: scanning. Complete. Phase three: posting. In progress.

For the hell of it, I was looking at the back of the figure boxes and noticed Sage's hair... was covering the wrong eye. Seized with madness, I very nearly broke my neck in a frantic scramble to the top of my display shelves (reserved for anime stuffs only) to yank Sage from his position on the top shelf and pull off his helmet to see for myself. 

And it was. A sad sad day at Bender's house.

Sage's hair is indeed over his left eye. When ALL of us know it's supposed to be over his right eye. Oh, the humanity. What were they thinking? Well, now Sage has a nice little home on my desk. I never really noticed what a sexy sexy face he has, albeit plastic. His eyebrows were painted black, though. That's what I loved most about him--his golden eyebrows. Now they made him look like an artificial blond. Feigning stupidity is my only guess.

Important Question: How can Sage fit his helmet over his hair? 

--10.27.01--

C-c-c-c-coffee, anyone?

Speaking of my outsignificant other, Noël is busy writing reports and preparing for midterms, so that's why I haven't mentioned anything about her for a while. Until now.

Folks, I know when I'm addicted to something. Believe me, I have the power to admit it. For instance, I'm addicted to yaoi, coffee, Maraschino cherries, buying doujinshi, buying foreign language books & dictionaries, heavy metal, my computer...

--10.20.01--

I wonder if any teenager has longed to have parents that just didn't give a shit about them as much as I have.

Moral of This Entry: Don't blame it on Lucas.

--10.19.01--

"Seig heil!"

That reminds me of a funny incident in seventh grade. There was this moron named Adam Parker that was in Mrs. Gilreath's science class. He was always making idiotic comments and no one liked him. He was really, really pale and he had freckles and he was really chubby 'cos his mum wrote him an excuse to sit out during gym class in elementary school (I knew this loser way early in my life, unfortunately) and he wore these glasses. He looked for all the world like Dexter from Dexter's Labouratory. Except without the genius. 

Anyway, so this idiot Parker chap was the very definition of a loser. I hated him. He disgusted me. So one day Mrs. Gilreath was complaining of this headache she'd had for a few days. And Adam, trying to be witty (or was actually worried) said, "It could be a tumour." Mrs. Gilreath turned around and looked at him and the whole class could not believe how stupid this fellow was. And Mrs. Gilreath said, " Adam. Shut up." To which he replied, "Yes ma'am."

And that's the tale of Idiot Adam and Mrs. Gilreath (who needed serious fashion advice).

--10.18.01--

"Superman was a great all-American hero!"

"Dad. Superman wore his underwear outside of his pants."

"Of course! We all did! It was the 'cool' thing to do."

When it comes to the culinary arts, I am practically Rowen's cousin. A few weeks ago I was at the level where I could burn water. I'm dead serious. Just about everything I cook (or try to) is burnt, raw, or rendered inedible by some higher power. If I go into a kitchen, it immediately becomes cursed and stays that way for several days. Maybe that's the reason why Cye and I never hit off, although we occasionally hit each other... heh. Cye and I. Like cyanide. Narf.

Back to the topic of dinner, I managed to spill barbeque sauce all over myself. Now I'm sitting here four hours later and dying of the fumes embedded in my collar. Chicken and barbeque sauce, correct, no? Then my mum committed a sacrilege by putting the STEAK SAUCE out on the table. Now I love A1, but it's STEAK sauce, not CHICKEN sauce. It's like... oil and water, it just doesn't mix. Other things that don't mix: wet floors and car batteries, Heero and Relena, anime and cartoons, crushed ice and nachos- oh, my God. Let me TELL you why crushed ice doesn't mix with nachos:

Me and Noël were at a softball game (our dads were playing) late one night, we got some snacks, were sitting alone under a tree, and Noël made me laugh. The crushed ice and nachos that I had been swallowing got lodged in my throat. I could not breathe. I choked and made motions to Noël that I was choking. She panicked momentarily, then said, " What you need is a good pat on the back!" And like Babe Ruth swinging that bat, she slammed me in the back so hard, I did more than cough up the nachos: I BARFED. Noël and I were treated to the sight of my vomit flying in a nice little puddle through the air and going SPLAT! on the concrete. 

My back was bruised for weeks.

--10.17.01--

"You know what I LOVE?"

"WHAT!?"

"Hooooooobastank!"

Since I can't seem to do a new doujinshi page for the life of me, I'm going to have to settle for a cover page. Maybe if I focus my energies on that, I'll get some of my dj spinning talent back. I seemed to draw much better when I didn't really care what it looked like. I'm not thrilled about a comic that turns out looking like Chet Buckley's "Prince Lightning". As much as I like the style, I don't want it. He can keep the smegger.

At the rate I'm going with these updates, I'll never get any work done and I'll have a monstrosity of a journal on my hands. I shall have to cut down to once a week. Perhaps I'll still be daily, but noting only the important things. Yeah. That's what I'll do.

Dammit, I keep coming back to this thing. I close the program, get an idea, open it again and... it gets very tiring. Anyway, I thought you'd like to see the picture responsible for getting my ass thrown off the internet for an entire year. Why? Two words: Ronin Smut.

Rowen: Cye. It's okay ta feel dat way about Ryo. We all do.

Cye: ..... Yoh a sick man, Rowen.

--10.16.01--

"I'm not going to say 'fucking' any more."

Noël, if you don't sign the fff... gosh danged Bentbook, I'll come after you with an acetylene blowtorch and I'LL BURN YOUR SHISH KABOBS, MISSY!

Well, once again I picked up my pencil and tried to finish the twelfth page of my upcoming RW doujinshi... to no avail. I have no idea how to end the story, and I find that when I'm as such, productivity is nil. -_- It's all quite bothersome. Perhaps I should work the story out first. Either way it's wreaking havoc on my work life and my personal health. I find that my best drawing time is between 4:30-6:00 AM. A rather narrow window considering the ratio of my drawing time as per my writing time. Now if I were getting paid that'd be a different story.

We just found out there's a band out with the name "The Halo Benders". Yet another coincidence for the pair that form H.I.T. to write down in the book right along with the other million that have to do with RW. See, we're Halo. And we own Bent Productions. Coincidence, yes. Accident, maybe. They're a mediocre band, kinda like watered-down Beck without the originality. I actually like one of their songs. As Noël says, they're not that phucking bad after all.

FACT: I hate octopuses. I don't care what anybody says about them, I hate them. Living or dead or cooked or raw... I hate them. They're nasty and slimy and gross and disgusting and repulsive and I would not touch them with a 10 foot pole and if I were ever to find one in my bed I would die of fright but only after much screaming followed by a massive heart attack brought on by asphyxia. I just thought I would share that with you.

Lucas made me type it, I swear.

--10.14.01-- 

"I want that fucking mp3."

Things I HATE:

1. Bloody fic authors who can't bleeding spell and don't have the common sense to take 2 SECONDS out of their bloody time and just LOOK THE WORD UP.

2. Fic authors who senselessly bash the Ronin cast with a frying pan/lightning bolt/cricket bat or any other heavy blunt object. Unless you're a REALLY TALENTED WRITER, IT'S JUST DAMN STUPID. 

And do I want aforementioned "fucking mp3". I've been all over the AG looking for the bastard son-of-a-bitch stinking Cock Sparrer "Tart" song. That's the song I can just picture Cye singing to Ryo while dressed in 80's leather, Brit punk rocker like David Bowie or Billy Idol. Y'know, the tight-ass torn jeans with whitewashed stripes, biker gloves, long dangly earrings and eye shadow... damn he'd be an obscenity to the human eye. Why am I always picking on Cye? Much like Noël always asks in a pathetic whimper, " Why's Sage always picking on Rowen?" Okay, truth time:

Cye is my "ex boyfriend". I did it to him. It all started with me. I'm the reason why Cye is so fucked up now... I guess it's subliminal revenge, although Cye never did a damn thing to hurt me. In fact, he was too nice. I think that's reason el numero uno why I "broke up" with him*. Plus I wanted a spin with Anubis, but we ain't goin' there. I talk about Cye a lot because I don't know anybody else who's a fan of the Buzzcocks and Pete Shelly. See, we're really better off being friends. Besides. I could never steal him from Ryo.

Time for a reality check: Aside from the point, I've found that through either lack of education, suitable keyboardmanship or a working spellcheck, 90% of people who write RW fanfic end up looking like absolute shitwits who couldn't write one correct sentence for the life of them. It disheartens me so. And a vast majourity (too vast if you ask me) write pretty crummy fics for people who boast years of experience. Notorious Double T, if you're here and you know what I'm talking about, then DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. I don't know how people can stand for such rot without being pissing mad. Either that or I'm just a bloody-minded perfectionist who's going to have a future getting kicks out of stepping on the backs of the bruised (NIN quote there--I'm a small fan of the Nails). So. I decided to take it upon myself and help the less fortunate (god, I'm such a bloody arrogant jackass) by making a help section for fic authors. You'll see it on the main page. Alright. Done bitching now.

* Please note-- This is all in my head and I'm nuttier than a peanut butter pie, in fact, so is Noël. It's in her head, too. We both live parallel lives in our head. That's why after we spend too much time together we forget about reality and look like bong bangers the next day.

Moral of This Entry: 80's British punk rock kicks bloody ass.

--10.13.01--  

"Why? Because we're not FUCKING GAY, CYE."

Until I can teach Noël the basics of website maintenance, I'm going to be in charge of the updates. Hi. I'm Bender. Yesterday evening, despite the fact that my eye sockets were aching, I drove to Noël's lavish abode and between mouthfuls of Cheetos and Sprite (which Noël had spilled all over the kitchen floor when she failed to tap the top), helped her study for her psyche test. It's amazing what you can learn about yourself through such a subject.

After studying (which nearly took 3 hours), Noël played piano for me while we burned cooked a frozen pizza. We then amused ourselves with SNL and Mad TV and the wonderful news about anthrax and tornadoes and bus accidents (aka Armageddon) and trying not to laugh at the bad gay jokes on the tele. I said to Noël, " Yup. The whole world's goin' gay."

She replied, " Why, Bender? I'm scared." 

" I don't know."

After that, around 1 AM, I had to teach Noël the basics of computer operation. -_- Needless to say we didn't get far; she had to finish writing a college paper and kept bugging me with with the closing statement while I cleaned out her computer, bookmarked sites, and downloaded the AG satellite. The whole time we were cutting up like a couple of kids, mainly about the Ronin Warriors, mostly about Cye, chiefly about Cye being gay. Noël considers him her brother (in fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they were separated at birth they share so many similarities) and we imagined many amusing scenarios:

Noël's doing the laundry, finds a silky satin thong--storms into the den where all the Boys are sitting and demands to know who's buying fancy knickers for her. Cye speaks up and says they're his, where Noël immediately drops them in horror and slithers away.

Another scenario where Cye is always pitched upon by the others (especially his sister) for being gay. 

Noël: [hysterically] Why con't yeh do yeh own londry!? Is it becos' yoh fucking GAY, Cye!? 

This continued long into the night. Noël was seriously working on her notes when she coined a new word: skay. It's a combination of stupid and gay, talking about her inanimate conclusion paragraph.

Noël: This thing sounds so st...ssgay!

Cye: AHA! You weh going to say stupid, but you said GAY instead! I know tha's whot you weh about to say, and you know I know that I knew you weh rally going to say stupid, but yeh said GAY just to spite me! If I knew that you knew that I knew that I would be offended by-

(I pop in unannounced from another room): Cye, what are you babbling about?

Moral of This Entry: Cye is fucking gay.