After foolishly agreeing to read Agony in Pink out loud tonight and now gripping with the feeling of my soul being caked in sludge, I’m going to attempt to clean it by talking about a (foreshadowing?) dream I happened to have yesterday afternoon. How original.
What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.
Okay, much as I love being back to work, there is one thing I did not miss and that was coloring Loki’s coat ffs.
While I work diligently on Adoravengers and consume my weight in Coke and mediocre white cheddar cheese popcorn (seriously, Lance, you used to be so good, what happened?), I felt the need to share a song.
For those of you who have been so patient, sitting through endless life posts and silly things, and have waited out my hiatus like good folks, I present to you proof that things are happening.
Coloring on Scene Nine is officially underway. I am honestly kind of excited to be working on my baby again. I’ve missed these little guys.
So apparently Eurovision happened, and…well, can’t say I was all that interested. Though I do love me some Europop from time to time, I’m not particularly invested in the scene.
And then I saw a picture of this guy.
This, if your eyes have not yet been met with the sight of a million squealing girls facerolling their keyboards in sexual frustration, is Yohio, a Swedish visual kei artist. And by god, does he look neat. Sure, the eye makeup and HUEG contacts seems just a smidge yellowface, but Japan digs him, so no harm, no foul, I guess.
I’ve only heard one of his songs so far, his first English release, “Our Story” (which, dude, stick to the color HUEG contacts, the brown ones are dipping a little into uncanny valley), and he sounds alright. I may check out Seremedy sometime.