This LJ is pretty much friends only. If you want to be on my fList, leave me a message and let me know. Unless I dislike you, or your journal is empty or in a language other than English (and even then if you use the Roman alphabet its probably ok because trying to read foreign languages will help me learn them sorta), if you friend me I'll probably friend you back.
My bio is mostly boring, so instead, I offer you a story by my friend WyldDelerium. Its about me, and actually could serve as a biography of sorts. Make of it what you will.
Story (she didn't title it, sorry)
It was a warm and humid day when I met God. It hadn't felt like a particularly spirtiual sort of day, just me ambling down this road to go pick up the mail for my grandparents. The land out here is a strange mix between beautifully natural with a twist of industry, like a lime hanging on the edge of my cuban libre. I can't tell which way it wants to go - does it want to surrender the openness of agricultural beauty for the convienence of a Shop and Go, or is it just that all the other Shop and Go's have been placed and these are the only places untouched by them?
Anyway, I got lost in the feelings of migratatory patterns of Spencer's Gifts when I failed to notice how dark it was getting. According to my watch, it was spin o'clock - the hands were flailing wildly around the face, like a mother watching her children being mauled by Michael Jackson. I looked around, and there wasn't a car in sight - but that's normal for backwaters Delaware. And then the purple and green flashing lights began to descend in my general direction.
Great. It *would* be me, playing the role of the podunk crazy no one will believe, getting kidnapped by aliens. I stood there in a sensless form of disgust as the silvery ship aligted about 60 feet from where I was standing.
"C?" the voice boomed. I looked around, like some other C in some other story could possibly be the one they're looking for.
"C A****?" All right. Pulling out the second name only means that I've obviously done something to piss you off, or at least that's how my mom tells it.
"THIS.....IS......GOD...." the booming voice got even louder and more pompous.
"TELL DEB THAT SHE IS MESSING WITH THE WORLD ORDER WHEN SHE REFUSES FROGS. SHE IS THE FROG QUEEN, AND WE DON'T KNOW WHO ELSE WILL TAKE IN THE CHEESY PLASTIC FROGS. WE NEED TO MAKE THEM, TO EMPLOY SMALL CHILDREN IN CHINA TO MAKE THESE FROGS."
"So what you're telling me, alien God, is that you came all the way here to tell ME to tell Deb to collect frogs again? How's that for feeling insignificant! Why don't you tell her yourself?"