naamah_darling: A wolf with its jaws wide open, and FUCK! written between them. (Fuck!)
Steampunk pirate porn is going well.

I've never tried to write anything quite like this. My main character is Valor, a Victorian schoolboy, a gorgeous genius, but also a complete naïf who knows next to nothing about sex. He's been well-educated in a school largely free from religious prudery and has absorbed only a minimal amount of the freaky sexual baggage from his era, but that is still a lot of freaky baggage. He has never seen or touched a real naked woman in his life.

It's third-person subjective, meaning I'm having to adhere, for now, to his vocabulary for sex. This is a young man who (through no fault of his own) isn't even really aware that women can have orgasms, and thus even the idea that some women might enjoy sex in the same way that men do is so foreign to him it would seem weird if you suggested it. I am assuming that by his age, he'll have experience with male equipment simply because he's an owner, but I am not even sure he knows that pussy is wet.

It is so incredibly hard to try to think like someone that clueless. Thank god he's inquisitive and being held captive by a pervert, who will shortly remedy his lack of knowledge so thoroughly that his offspring, who will be born with handprints on their asses, will shortly after sexual maturity develop an uncanny, almost instinctive ability to give fantastic head.

All of this will make for wonderful comedy, but it's a pain in the ass when you can't have your character thinking in the kind of frankly sexual language that porn really relies on. What words do you use?

Because we're already sitting here talking about porn, let's look at just a few of our options. I'm leaving out many words, both useful and comical, but I think I hit most of the highlights.

Though it can be done really well, I generally dislike overly euphemistic descriptions: manhood, womanhood, member, passage. Many of them are all right, I suppose, but if you're going that route, please use "cock" or "pussy" just once, so I know one or both of the following things:

1) You don't think I'm a delicate flower who is interested in reading about sex but can't handle blue language.

or

2) You aren't striving for that fake elevated tone so common in porn/erotica. The one that most people try to accomplish by simply avoiding profanity instead of actually writing well.

And we mustn't forget "dick!" It's an old word and has an impressive pedigree and can be used to good effect, even if I usually eschew it in favor of "cock."

The strictly anatomical is a dreadful thing to inflict on a reader. "Penis" is a word one's earnestly square mother-in-law would use. "Testicles" is marginally better; I use it as a swear word sometimes, but it's not what you'd call sexy.

Don't get me started on "vagina." Especially as it is commonly used wrong. Hint: you can't really see the vagina from the outside without some spelunking and maybe a penlight. The external female anatomy is the vulva. That word is even worse still, as it not only sounds like a kind of car, but like a doddering old person's car with one turn signal perpetually blinking. Next time you read the word "vulva," you will picture an old man in a hat. See if I'm wrong.

The clitoris desperately needs a new name, or at least a couple more good, stable synonyms. You can only say "clit" so many times before you begin using cute words like pearl, button, and so forth, just to keep yourself sane, and that can easily shade into the purple.

I like "pussy." "Cunt" is really dirty, it's a big gun, it has impact, but if you pull it out at the wrong time, you will lose people. No "twat" in porn, please, it doesn't sound dirty; it's too funny. "Coochie" and "hoo-ha" and other assorted cutesy words . . . god no. "Cunny" is a nice older word that has been largely lost to us. "Snatch" sounds nasty, but can be useful precisely because of that, in the right context. Again, used wrong, it's horrible.

At least "breasts" is fine, and "tits." "Boobs" is too fourth-grade. "Bosoms" is so laden with melodrama that unless you are writing a romance novel from 1975 you should probably avoid it. I am not even going to touch "ta-tas," "mams," or "melons," and you should know better, too.

Then there's the thudding and semi-comical "buttocks." Ass, behind, backside, bottom . . . those are okay. "Arse," yes, great, use it if you like it. Just be aware that almost every American-English speaker reading your stuff will be so busy wondering whether or not you pronounce that "r" that they will skim over at least two sentences without remembering a damn thing you say. I realize that's a really USA-centric thing to say, but it's true. If that doesn't bother you, carry on. "Bum" is a fun word, but it's so cute and so colloquial and so inoffensive that using it in porn counts as a lapse in diction.

Then, we are inevitably forced to confront the anus. Used right, "anus" is unappealingly anatomical but isn't too jarring. Used wrong, it is screamingly funny. Despite the fact that everyone has one, it's very hard to use "anus" in writing or conversation without bringing the whole thing to a screeching halt.

"Asshole" or just "ass" is fine, but you should never use "butthole" in a sentence that is meant to be sexy. Anyone who writes it "butt hole" or "butt-hole" in something meant to inspire frantic onanism might need help from a really sadistic proofreader. If this applies to you, I mean no offense, but you know where else you see that? Porn website copy ("Paige loves getting rammed in her butt hole!") and semi-literate porn magazine letters ("I was so surprised when Lola-Janine said she wanted me to do her in the butt-hole that I darn near dropped my bottle of Jack!"). I should know, I dealt with that crap for several years. Best not to use it. It can make you look like a butthole.

Digression: Sargon saw it in a porn magazine letter once as "butt-hole," written just like that, with quotes around it. "I slid my greasy love torpedo into her 'butt-hole.'" No. Just . . . no. If you come across that one in the wild even once you will immediately understand what I mean when I say that some people should not be allowed near the English language without a sniper on the next roof over in case things go horribly, horribly wrong.

And, perhaps the most raging debate of them all. Did you come? I'm going to cum. She swallowed his come. I've never seen so much cum. He whimpers when he's coming. I could feel her cumming. Pre-come tastes the same as pre-cum. These words! They mean the same thing! They are spelled differently! And they possibly have different subtleties of connotation!

People have their preferences on this one and they will defend their position almost to the point of knife-fighting. There are genuinely compelling arguments for both cases, which I would not have admitted ten years ago, but I've softened in my old age. It doesn't kick me out of a piece like it used to.

I'm of the "I'm not going to let you come" school of thought myself. "Cum" often seems juvenile and tawdry. And yet, I have seen it used in really first-rate work and it didn't bother me.

I have actually seen the phrase "having a cum." That one had my brain on a dial tone for a minute. It's not horrible, but boy, did it look weird. Maybe it's a dialectical thing, the way some people say "watching a porno" instead of "watching porn" or "watching a porn movie."

There's a thin line between keeping something fresh and doing something silly, and a fine line between writing frankly and using a frank style to try to disguise a tin ear for language.

So, as you can see, pornographic language is a complicated! Important! Issue! And I bring it up solely so that next time you are reading porn – mine or anyone else's – you will stop for a moment and appreciate the fact that the writer at some point consciously balanced what words their point of view character would use with words that will not interrupt the torrent of filth so irrevocably that you stop wanking.

Thank you and goodnight.
naamah_darling: A wolf with its jaws wide open, and FUCK! written between them. (Fuck!)
Steampunk pirate porn is going well.

I've never tried to write anything quite like this. My main character is Valor, a Victorian schoolboy, a gorgeous genius, but also a complete naïf who knows next to nothing about sex. He's been well-educated in a school largely free from religious prudery and has absorbed only a minimal amount of the freaky sexual baggage from his era, but that is still a lot of freaky baggage. He has never seen or touched a real naked woman in his life.

It's third-person subjective, meaning I'm having to adhere, for now, to his vocabulary for sex. This is a young man who (through no fault of his own) isn't even really aware that women can have orgasms, and thus even the idea that some women might enjoy sex in the same way that men do is so foreign to him it would seem weird if you suggested it. I am assuming that by his age, he'll have experience with male equipment simply because he's an owner, but I am not even sure he knows that pussy is wet.

It is so incredibly hard to try to think like someone that clueless. Thank god he's inquisitive and being held captive by a pervert, who will shortly remedy his lack of knowledge so thoroughly that his offspring, who will be born with handprints on their asses, will shortly after sexual maturity develop an uncanny, almost instinctive ability to give fantastic head.

All of this will make for wonderful comedy, but it's a pain in the ass when you can't have your character thinking in the kind of frankly sexual language that porn really relies on. What words do you use?

Because we're already sitting here talking about porn, let's look at just a few of our options. I'm leaving out many words, both useful and comical, but I think I hit most of the highlights.

Though it can be done really well, I generally dislike overly euphemistic descriptions: manhood, womanhood, member, passage. Many of them are all right, I suppose, but if you're going that route, please use "cock" or "pussy" just once, so I know one or both of the following things:

1) You don't think I'm a delicate flower who is interested in reading about sex but can't handle blue language.

or

2) You aren't striving for that fake elevated tone so common in porn/erotica. The one that most people try to accomplish by simply avoiding profanity instead of actually writing well.

And we mustn't forget "dick!" It's an old word and has an impressive pedigree and can be used to good effect, even if I usually eschew it in favor of "cock."

The strictly anatomical is a dreadful thing to inflict on a reader. "Penis" is a word one's earnestly square mother-in-law would use. "Testicles" is marginally better; I use it as a swear word sometimes, but it's not what you'd call sexy.

Don't get me started on "vagina." Especially as it is commonly used wrong. Hint: you can't really see the vagina from the outside without some spelunking and maybe a penlight. The external female anatomy is the vulva. That word is even worse still, as it not only sounds like a kind of car, but like a doddering old person's car with one turn signal perpetually blinking. Next time you read the word "vulva," you will picture an old man in a hat. See if I'm wrong.

The clitoris desperately needs a new name, or at least a couple more good, stable synonyms. You can only say "clit" so many times before you begin using cute words like pearl, button, and so forth, just to keep yourself sane, and that can easily shade into the purple.

I like "pussy." "Cunt" is really dirty, it's a big gun, it has impact, but if you pull it out at the wrong time, you will lose people. No "twat" in porn, please, it doesn't sound dirty; it's too funny. "Coochie" and "hoo-ha" and other assorted cutesy words . . . god no. "Cunny" is a nice older word that has been largely lost to us. "Snatch" sounds nasty, but can be useful precisely because of that, in the right context. Again, used wrong, it's horrible.

At least "breasts" is fine, and "tits." "Boobs" is too fourth-grade. "Bosoms" is so laden with melodrama that unless you are writing a romance novel from 1975 you should probably avoid it. I am not even going to touch "ta-tas," "mams," or "melons," and you should know better, too.

Then there's the thudding and semi-comical "buttocks." Ass, behind, backside, bottom . . . those are okay. "Arse," yes, great, use it if you like it. Just be aware that almost every American-English speaker reading your stuff will be so busy wondering whether or not you pronounce that "r" that they will skim over at least two sentences without remembering a damn thing you say. I realize that's a really USA-centric thing to say, but it's true. If that doesn't bother you, carry on. "Bum" is a fun word, but it's so cute and so colloquial and so inoffensive that using it in porn counts as a lapse in diction.

Then, we are inevitably forced to confront the anus. Used right, "anus" is unappealingly anatomical but isn't too jarring. Used wrong, it is screamingly funny. Despite the fact that everyone has one, it's very hard to use "anus" in writing or conversation without bringing the whole thing to a screeching halt.

"Asshole" or just "ass" is fine, but you should never use "butthole" in a sentence that is meant to be sexy. Anyone who writes it "butt hole" or "butt-hole" in something meant to inspire frantic onanism might need help from a really sadistic proofreader. If this applies to you, I mean no offense, but you know where else you see that? Porn website copy ("Paige loves getting rammed in her butt hole!") and semi-literate porn magazine letters ("I was so surprised when Lola-Janine said she wanted me to do her in the butt-hole that I darn near dropped my bottle of Jack!"). I should know, I dealt with that crap for several years. Best not to use it. It can make you look like a butthole.

Digression: Sargon saw it in a porn magazine letter once as "butt-hole," written just like that, with quotes around it. "I slid my greasy love torpedo into her 'butt-hole.'" No. Just . . . no. If you come across that one in the wild even once you will immediately understand what I mean when I say that some people should not be allowed near the English language without a sniper on the next roof over in case things go horribly, horribly wrong.

And, perhaps the most raging debate of them all. Did you come? I'm going to cum. She swallowed his come. I've never seen so much cum. He whimpers when he's coming. I could feel her cumming. Pre-come tastes the same as pre-cum. These words! They mean the same thing! They are spelled differently! And they possibly have different subtleties of connotation!

People have their preferences on this one and they will defend their position almost to the point of knife-fighting. There are genuinely compelling arguments for both cases, which I would not have admitted ten years ago, but I've softened in my old age. It doesn't kick me out of a piece like it used to.

I'm of the "I'm not going to let you come" school of thought myself. "Cum" often seems juvenile and tawdry. And yet, I have seen it used in really first-rate work and it didn't bother me.

I have actually seen the phrase "having a cum." That one had my brain on a dial tone for a minute. It's not horrible, but boy, did it look weird. Maybe it's a dialectical thing, the way some people say "watching a porno" instead of "watching porn" or "watching a porn movie."

There's a thin line between keeping something fresh and doing something silly, and a fine line between writing frankly and using a frank style to try to disguise a tin ear for language.

So, as you can see, pornographic language is a complicated! Important! Issue! And I bring it up solely so that next time you are reading porn – mine or anyone else's – you will stop for a moment and appreciate the fact that the writer at some point consciously balanced what words their point of view character would use with words that will not interrupt the torrent of filth so irrevocably that you stop wanking.

Thank you and goodnight.
naamah_darling: Animated icon of Ioan Gruffudd looking very pissed with a succession of horrible profanity added. (Tourette's)
You all know that I love to fucking swear, and think that efforts to stifle others' casual use of the word "fuck" is nothing more than a tactic used by the ethically and intellectually unsophisticated to control the (usually more interesting) people around them.

You may also be aware that I was once thrown out of a doctor's office for swearing -- not at anyone, just near them, and that I still have a lingering desire to dump decomposing possum water into the window wells of that particular doctor's car.

So any instance of someone swearing in understandable circumstances and then catching heat for it draws my attention.

Oh, hey, look! This just in:

A Michigan girl's father collapses in a seizure after brain surgery. She calls 911 and, in a state of panic, drops an f-bomb.

The shit-gargling assblister assigned to the phones is so taken aback by this sort of unladylike language that he hangs up on her. More, this ignorant stump-humping fucker of dead dog's throat-holes hangs up on her three times without even asking what her emergency is because she, like most of us, is saying "What the fuck?" and this, apparently, offends his sense of propriety.

This bile-soaked maggot-brained buffoon does, however, take a moment or two away from his busy schedule of bobbing for his own prostate to call her a "stupid ass," and wastes six valuable minutes while he fondles his self-righteous boner in a masturbatory reach-around technique achievable only by those sanctimonious holier-than-thou types whose desire to police the behavior of others has so inflamed their sense of right and wrong that it's swelled their assholes shut around their own necks. Like anal anaphylaxis triggered by the word FUCK.

To cap things off, the panicked daughter finally leaves her (still seizing) father in the care of her brother and physically runs down to the police station, where this selfsame braindead dick-puke chicken-dicker proceeds to arrest a 17-year-old girl on charges of "abuse of 911."

A charge which, it will no doubt come as a complete surprise to all of you fine people, does not fucking exist.

Now the girl and her father are both fine, and are hiring an attorney, but this prissy, overgrown bully is getting only two weeks' suspension. It is not, unfortunately, barbed-wire suspension by the testicles over an Olympic-sized pool full of well-trained spitting cobras, during which he is used as the target for the prototype OMFG-9000 combo rocket-powered dildo gun and taser.

Alas.

So, here's to you, Adrianne Ledesma. May the law be swift and just, and give this guy the bludgeoning he so completely deserves. Please don't ever stop swearing, and don't let anyone tell you that ladies don't swear. You're a brave woman, Adrianne, and anyone who has a problem with your language can go fuck a carcass. I wish you and your family, especially your father, well. Stay strong. I hope you take that squealing little comefart for everything he has.

For Sgt. Robert McFarland, here's a bag of dicks. Eat 'em, shit 'em, eat shit, die shitting 'em again. Cops aren't all bastards, they are human beings with complicated, difficult jobs, but pompous, bilious douchebags like you really put the public's faith in the system to the test, and that is an unfortunate thing . . . as is the fact that you evidently cannot cope with your job, thus putting innocent -- though foulmouthed -- people and their families at risk.

Tell you what, Bobby. The next enormous shit I take? Like a treacly Top 40 song introduced by Casey Kasem, I am dedicating it to you. Perhaps its spiritual company will increase your I.Q.

Stay classy, you power-tripping pile of assvomit.
naamah_darling: Animated icon of Ioan Gruffudd looking very pissed with a succession of horrible profanity added. (Tourette's)
You all know that I love to fucking swear, and think that efforts to stifle others' casual use of the word "fuck" is nothing more than a tactic used by the ethically and intellectually unsophisticated to control the (usually more interesting) people around them.

You may also be aware that I was once thrown out of a doctor's office for swearing -- not at anyone, just near them, and that I still have a lingering desire to dump decomposing possum water into the window wells of that particular doctor's car.

So any instance of someone swearing in understandable circumstances and then catching heat for it draws my attention.

Oh, hey, look! This just in:

A Michigan girl's father collapses in a seizure after brain surgery. She calls 911 and, in a state of panic, drops an f-bomb.

The shit-gargling assblister assigned to the phones is so taken aback by this sort of unladylike language that he hangs up on her. More, this ignorant stump-humping fucker of dead dog's throat-holes hangs up on her three times without even asking what her emergency is because she, like most of us, is saying "What the fuck?" and this, apparently, offends his sense of propriety.

This bile-soaked maggot-brained buffoon does, however, take a moment or two away from his busy schedule of bobbing for his own prostate to call her a "stupid ass," and wastes six valuable minutes while he fondles his self-righteous boner in a masturbatory reach-around technique achievable only by those sanctimonious holier-than-thou types whose desire to police the behavior of others has so inflamed their sense of right and wrong that it's swelled their assholes shut around their own necks. Like anal anaphylaxis triggered by the word FUCK.

To cap things off, the panicked daughter finally leaves her (still seizing) father in the care of her brother and physically runs down to the police station, where this selfsame braindead dick-puke chicken-dicker proceeds to arrest a 17-year-old girl on charges of "abuse of 911."

A charge which, it will no doubt come as a complete surprise to all of you fine people, does not fucking exist.

Now the girl and her father are both fine, and are hiring an attorney, but this prissy, overgrown bully is getting only two weeks' suspension. It is not, unfortunately, barbed-wire suspension by the testicles over an Olympic-sized pool full of well-trained spitting cobras, during which he is used as the target for the prototype OMFG-9000 combo rocket-powered dildo gun and taser.

Alas.

So, here's to you, Adrianne Ledesma. May the law be swift and just, and give this guy the bludgeoning he so completely deserves. Please don't ever stop swearing, and don't let anyone tell you that ladies don't swear. You're a brave woman, Adrianne, and anyone who has a problem with your language can go fuck a carcass. I wish you and your family, especially your father, well. Stay strong. I hope you take that squealing little comefart for everything he has.

For Sgt. Robert McFarland, here's a bag of dicks. Eat 'em, shit 'em, eat shit, die shitting 'em again. Cops aren't all bastards, they are human beings with complicated, difficult jobs, but pompous, bilious douchebags like you really put the public's faith in the system to the test, and that is an unfortunate thing . . . as is the fact that you evidently cannot cope with your job, thus putting innocent -- though foulmouthed -- people and their families at risk.

Tell you what, Bobby. The next enormous shit I take? Like a treacly Top 40 song introduced by Casey Kasem, I am dedicating it to you. Perhaps its spiritual company will increase your I.Q.

Stay classy, you power-tripping pile of assvomit.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)
I thought I should warn you about Night Watch.

Just in case Netflix decides not to publish my review, here is an enhanced version complete with the profanity I was forced to cut.

If you liked this movie, I suggest you skip this. Reading it might lead you to argue with me, which would forever tarnish my assessment of your sentience and call into question your qualifications to breathe oxygen.

I do not understand the people falling all over themselves to worship this movie. It's like watching a pack of otherwise intelligent people fall down to worship the face of Christ on a burned cheese sandwich. They are seeing something that plainly isn't there, and how they have deluded themselves into believing otherwise is a mystery both utterly foreign and completely terrifying to me. It makes me question my faith in humankind.

This movie is bad. In fact, this incomprehensible pile of cinematic sewage is not even redeemed by its badness, like Blade Trinity. Its incoherence is rivaled only by the worst anime I have ever seen, and its visual appeal is about on a par with Jean Reno's nutsack. Its awfulness could not be rendered watchable even by a full MST3K makeover and intercut scenes featuring Tom Welling furiously jerking off onto Jessica Biel's shoulder muscles. By the end I was literally swearing and moaning aloud in pain, and afterwards both Sargon and I were forced to make horrible use of the bathroom in some sort of displaced self defense reflex.

A complete lack of anything resembling a coherent plot is the primary crime here, followed by an utter dearth of interesting or sympathetic characters, compounded by a cinematic style that renders what was already a disjointed, weak storyline into an attention-deficit fueled exercise in pure viewer willpower. In service to a good story with likeable characters, the cinematography would have been interesting, but story and character failed completely leaving nothing at all for the viewer to hold on to.

It is the gom jabbar of vampire movies. It exists only to cause pain. The only reason to watch it is to see if you are brave enough to make it all the way through.

The main character was not quite as appealing as a lump of rancid cheese tied into a filthy gym sock and soaked in pig's bile. Even if he had been attractive, which he so was not, he still would have had all the charisma of a cold rectal thermometer. At every turn, I wished fervently for his gruesome death. Specifically, I wished for the werewolves from Underworld -- itself a textbook lesson in how to make a good bad movie -- to come onscreen and bite his face off, beginning with his horrid lips, before urinating into his empty eyesockets.

I would say the movie took itself too seriously, but it was not even coherent enough to deliver the ponderous, ham-handed sort of over-preaching that one usually sees in movies convinced of their own superiority. No, that would require some level of plot-related activity and not a random diarrhea of vaguely-related ideas and images. Taking yourself seriously requires that you make a point and then illustrate it. This movie could not have illustrated suppository instructions. It did actually aim for humor and a sort of over-the-top action appeal, but failed utterly. Not funny, not entertaining, and we're not caring.

The underlying "good vs. evil" theme is fundamentally hackneyed, especially when combined with the tropes of "prophecy" and "magical kid," but in the hands of a competent writer it can still be handled in an entertaining way. It is, however, an uphill battle on the best of days. This movie staggered about like a drunk, and like that same drunk falling down and passing out in a puddle of his own sick, this movie never wandered far from its starting point. Bad from start to finish.

I cannot in good conscience recommend that anyone watch it for any reason. If you want a good horror movie, I advise you to watch anything else (except The Host, which also fucking sucked). If you want an entertainingly bad horror movie, you would be better off with any Hammer movie ever made.

Watching roadkill decompose provides more riveting fare.

For those of you inclined to defend it, well, sorry. You can say you liked it and I won't gainsay you, I like a lot of things that frankly suck, but a good movie it was not. I would prefer to watch the remake of The Fog a dozen times rather than revisit this tripe even once, and I am not exaggerating in the slightest.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)
I thought I should warn you about Night Watch.

Just in case Netflix decides not to publish my review, here is an enhanced version complete with the profanity I was forced to cut.

If you liked this movie, I suggest you skip this. Reading it might lead you to argue with me, which would forever tarnish my assessment of your sentience and call into question your qualifications to breathe oxygen.

I do not understand the people falling all over themselves to worship this movie. It's like watching a pack of otherwise intelligent people fall down to worship the face of Christ on a burned cheese sandwich. They are seeing something that plainly isn't there, and how they have deluded themselves into believing otherwise is a mystery both utterly foreign and completely terrifying to me. It makes me question my faith in humankind.

This movie is bad. In fact, this incomprehensible pile of cinematic sewage is not even redeemed by its badness, like Blade Trinity. Its incoherence is rivaled only by the worst anime I have ever seen, and its visual appeal is about on a par with Jean Reno's nutsack. Its awfulness could not be rendered watchable even by a full MST3K makeover and intercut scenes featuring Tom Welling furiously jerking off onto Jessica Biel's shoulder muscles. By the end I was literally swearing and moaning aloud in pain, and afterwards both Sargon and I were forced to make horrible use of the bathroom in some sort of displaced self defense reflex.

A complete lack of anything resembling a coherent plot is the primary crime here, followed by an utter dearth of interesting or sympathetic characters, compounded by a cinematic style that renders what was already a disjointed, weak storyline into an attention-deficit fueled exercise in pure viewer willpower. In service to a good story with likeable characters, the cinematography would have been interesting, but story and character failed completely leaving nothing at all for the viewer to hold on to.

It is the gom jabbar of vampire movies. It exists only to cause pain. The only reason to watch it is to see if you are brave enough to make it all the way through.

The main character was not quite as appealing as a lump of rancid cheese tied into a filthy gym sock and soaked in pig's bile. Even if he had been attractive, which he so was not, he still would have had all the charisma of a cold rectal thermometer. At every turn, I wished fervently for his gruesome death. Specifically, I wished for the werewolves from Underworld -- itself a textbook lesson in how to make a good bad movie -- to come onscreen and bite his face off, beginning with his horrid lips, before urinating into his empty eyesockets.

I would say the movie took itself too seriously, but it was not even coherent enough to deliver the ponderous, ham-handed sort of over-preaching that one usually sees in movies convinced of their own superiority. No, that would require some level of plot-related activity and not a random diarrhea of vaguely-related ideas and images. Taking yourself seriously requires that you make a point and then illustrate it. This movie could not have illustrated suppository instructions. It did actually aim for humor and a sort of over-the-top action appeal, but failed utterly. Not funny, not entertaining, and we're not caring.

The underlying "good vs. evil" theme is fundamentally hackneyed, especially when combined with the tropes of "prophecy" and "magical kid," but in the hands of a competent writer it can still be handled in an entertaining way. It is, however, an uphill battle on the best of days. This movie staggered about like a drunk, and like that same drunk falling down and passing out in a puddle of his own sick, this movie never wandered far from its starting point. Bad from start to finish.

I cannot in good conscience recommend that anyone watch it for any reason. If you want a good horror movie, I advise you to watch anything else (except The Host, which also fucking sucked). If you want an entertainingly bad horror movie, you would be better off with any Hammer movie ever made.

Watching roadkill decompose provides more riveting fare.

For those of you inclined to defend it, well, sorry. You can say you liked it and I won't gainsay you, I like a lot of things that frankly suck, but a good movie it was not. I would prefer to watch the remake of The Fog a dozen times rather than revisit this tripe even once, and I am not exaggerating in the slightest.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (You Fool!)
Advertising equating food with sex has started to really freak me out and piss me off.

You know, according to our would-be cultural programming we ladies aren’t supposed to indulge in either wanton fucking or wanton eating, because if we do we are in serious danger of nobody ever wanting to fuck us. But we have to indulge in a little bit of both or we aren’t any fun. If we aren't any fun, nobody will want to fuck us, and that's what we are here for. If we want to fuck back, that's a no-no, because even a little bit of cock is enough to make a person fall off the slutwagon completely.

The only safe answer is to channel our urges to fuck into our urge to eat. But not too much! Only enough to keep our appetite under control. Just until someone comes along who wants to fuck us. We just have to be careful not to eat too much, because that's not ladylike and it will make us fat, and nobody wants to fuck fat strumpets. Tiny, measured portions are totally the best substitute for the sex we would rather be having with Hugh Jackman.

Isn’t it nice that we have advertising to tell us how much fucking, food, and fun is enough? I mean, I’m a shallow consumer-zombie whore. I sure as fuck don’t have the brainpower to figure it out on my own. When I get the craving for a nice hot can of cock-and-brains, I just can't trust my appetites!

Excuse me, I have to go watch TV for three hours to see what my “getting done in the ass” forecast is.

Original version in comments at Shapely prose.
A nice takedown.
The offending product. Again.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (You Fool!)
Advertising equating food with sex has started to really freak me out and piss me off.

You know, according to our would-be cultural programming we ladies aren’t supposed to indulge in either wanton fucking or wanton eating, because if we do we are in serious danger of nobody ever wanting to fuck us. But we have to indulge in a little bit of both or we aren’t any fun. If we aren't any fun, nobody will want to fuck us, and that's what we are here for. If we want to fuck back, that's a no-no, because even a little bit of cock is enough to make a person fall off the slutwagon completely.

The only safe answer is to channel our urges to fuck into our urge to eat. But not too much! Only enough to keep our appetite under control. Just until someone comes along who wants to fuck us. We just have to be careful not to eat too much, because that's not ladylike and it will make us fat, and nobody wants to fuck fat strumpets. Tiny, measured portions are totally the best substitute for the sex we would rather be having with Hugh Jackman.

Isn’t it nice that we have advertising to tell us how much fucking, food, and fun is enough? I mean, I’m a shallow consumer-zombie whore. I sure as fuck don’t have the brainpower to figure it out on my own. When I get the craving for a nice hot can of cock-and-brains, I just can't trust my appetites!

Excuse me, I have to go watch TV for three hours to see what my “getting done in the ass” forecast is.

Original version in comments at Shapely prose.
A nice takedown.
The offending product. Again.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Alpha Female)
This is a public service announcement.

Swearing unoriginally is crude and pathetic. Swearing inventively is an entirely valid method of self-expression. You are going to run across a lot of both on the internet. Chastising people for swearing is going to do no good whatsoever.

This comes a bit late on the heels of the complaints, but a couple of people have taken umbrage to the fact that this entry was particularly laden with foul language.

First, I want to point out that anything with a title that starts "The Leg-Biting Bitch . . ." is probably not going to contain love poetry and recipes for chocolate truffles. Not without a shitload of swearing thrown in.

Second, let me explain something in the specific context of that entry, and other entries featuring feminist-type shit. Keeping "foul language" out of things is not going to make assholes take women seriously. The kind of assholes who are offended by foul language from women do not and never will have any respect for women. Years' worth of being soft-spoken and polite has done fuckall to get through to these cocks. Might as well speak your mind, even – perhaps especially – if it means being labeled as a bitch, hysterical, or a humorless cunt.

Cut for fucking length. )

Let me make a point.

Statements like "No wonder everyone hates you feminist bitches! You're so nasty and mean and foulmouthed and immature and bitter and so on that nobody wants to deal with you! People might give you what you want if you learned to ask for it politely!" are a patronizing pile of shit.

Fair and equal treatment, socially and legally, is not a "reward" for good behavior, or something we have to earn by being polite or pleasant or easy to deal with. It is something to which we are entitled by being born human.

Period.

And if any amount of swearing from women or any amount of anger or unreasonableness shown by them can change your fucking mind about that and make you withdraw your fragile sympathy and support, then you were never an ally to begin with. You were just looking for an excuse to turn your back. And you know what? Fuck you.

Because if you ever, for even a second, think that only women who are "ladylike" and "civilized" deserve equality, and that this can be justifiably withdrawn from those who are heinous bitches, or who fit your definition of irresponsible or slutty or what the fuck ever, then you are a serious asshole, and you are not a feminist, no matter how much you may nod your head when some (polite) feminists speak or how sexy or amusing or fascinating or "challenging" you might find us.

We should all be polite and nice to one another. Sure. We aren't, though. Most people are fuckups, assholes, shitheads, jerkoffs, or just plain stupid. However, we are not children or animals to be punished by withdrawal of privileges when we do not do what we should. Our gender (or race, or whatever) is not the measure of whether we need to be controlled.

You know what I really think we should all do?

I think we should speak the truth.

"Heroes know that some things are better than others." Prince Lear said that in The Last Unicorn. He is right, just as the woman at Firedog Lake was right. When fundamental pillars of human rights are at stake, truth is a higher virtue than civility. So speak the truth with all the passion, rage and fury that is within you.

It's my duty as an articulate, intelligent and – yes – reasonable feminist to encourage other women to kick up a fucking ruckus. If I'm doing my job right, I will occasionally make some young woman sit up in her chair and go "Hey, that's not fair and hey, I do have a voice!"

We won't change the world by arguing in circles, acting as a sharpening wheel for every idiot with an axe to grind. It can be done, but the expenditure of energy necessary to grind one axe down and change one mind is great and there is very little return. Better to direct that energy elsewhere and change the world by sharpening the minds of those who agree. Better to effect change by galvanizing those who don't know they have a say in the matter, or don't have experience actually expressing their opinions. Better to win by sheer force of numbers, to drown out the idiots with raised voices in the millions. And the most effective way of doing that is not always by keeping to language approved by others. The best way to do that is to speak loudly and with passion using whatever words you like.

We need to be con brio, con forza, con fuoco, in rilievo.

To speak softly in a climate of overwhelming hostility is to be diminuendo, perdendo, morendo.

Are those pretty enough words for you motherfuckers?

* Bingo.
** Pretty much the best worst picture ever. I love this drawing because of its utter lack of anything like shame or sanity. NSFW in any way, shape, or form.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Alpha Female)
This is a public service announcement.

Swearing unoriginally is crude and pathetic. Swearing inventively is an entirely valid method of self-expression. You are going to run across a lot of both on the internet. Chastising people for swearing is going to do no good whatsoever.

This comes a bit late on the heels of the complaints, but a couple of people have taken umbrage to the fact that this entry was particularly laden with foul language.

First, I want to point out that anything with a title that starts "The Leg-Biting Bitch . . ." is probably not going to contain love poetry and recipes for chocolate truffles. Not without a shitload of swearing thrown in.

Second, let me explain something in the specific context of that entry, and other entries featuring feminist-type shit. Keeping "foul language" out of things is not going to make assholes take women seriously. The kind of assholes who are offended by foul language from women do not and never will have any respect for women. Years' worth of being soft-spoken and polite has done fuckall to get through to these cocks. Might as well speak your mind, even – perhaps especially – if it means being labeled as a bitch, hysterical, or a humorless cunt.

Cut for fucking length. )

Let me make a point.

Statements like "No wonder everyone hates you feminist bitches! You're so nasty and mean and foulmouthed and immature and bitter and so on that nobody wants to deal with you! People might give you what you want if you learned to ask for it politely!" are a patronizing pile of shit.

Fair and equal treatment, socially and legally, is not a "reward" for good behavior, or something we have to earn by being polite or pleasant or easy to deal with. It is something to which we are entitled by being born human.

Period.

And if any amount of swearing from women or any amount of anger or unreasonableness shown by them can change your fucking mind about that and make you withdraw your fragile sympathy and support, then you were never an ally to begin with. You were just looking for an excuse to turn your back. And you know what? Fuck you.

Because if you ever, for even a second, think that only women who are "ladylike" and "civilized" deserve equality, and that this can be justifiably withdrawn from those who are heinous bitches, or who fit your definition of irresponsible or slutty or what the fuck ever, then you are a serious asshole, and you are not a feminist, no matter how much you may nod your head when some (polite) feminists speak or how sexy or amusing or fascinating or "challenging" you might find us.

We should all be polite and nice to one another. Sure. We aren't, though. Most people are fuckups, assholes, shitheads, jerkoffs, or just plain stupid. However, we are not children or animals to be punished by withdrawal of privileges when we do not do what we should. Our gender (or race, or whatever) is not the measure of whether we need to be controlled.

You know what I really think we should all do?

I think we should speak the truth.

"Heroes know that some things are better than others." Prince Lear said that in The Last Unicorn. He is right, just as the woman at Firedog Lake was right. When fundamental pillars of human rights are at stake, truth is a higher virtue than civility. So speak the truth with all the passion, rage and fury that is within you.

It's my duty as an articulate, intelligent and – yes – reasonable feminist to encourage other women to kick up a fucking ruckus. If I'm doing my job right, I will occasionally make some young woman sit up in her chair and go "Hey, that's not fair and hey, I do have a voice!"

We won't change the world by arguing in circles, acting as a sharpening wheel for every idiot with an axe to grind. It can be done, but the expenditure of energy necessary to grind one axe down and change one mind is great and there is very little return. Better to direct that energy elsewhere and change the world by sharpening the minds of those who agree. Better to effect change by galvanizing those who don't know they have a say in the matter, or don't have experience actually expressing their opinions. Better to win by sheer force of numbers, to drown out the idiots with raised voices in the millions. And the most effective way of doing that is not always by keeping to language approved by others. The best way to do that is to speak loudly and with passion using whatever words you like.

We need to be con brio, con forza, con fuoco, in rilievo.

To speak softly in a climate of overwhelming hostility is to be diminuendo, perdendo, morendo.

Are those pretty enough words for you motherfuckers?

* Bingo.
** Pretty much the best worst picture ever. I love this drawing because of its utter lack of anything like shame or sanity. NSFW in any way, shape, or form.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Abort Born-Again Christians)
This entry contains swearing. You've been alerted.

Follow-ups on the bigoted fanatic, Rep. Sally Kern:

Oklahoma legislator defends leaked anti-gay comments.

Highlights )

Oklahoma legislator's anti-gay comments stir hostile reaction.

Highlights )

She has the right to choose her bass-ackwards sphincter-sniffing lifestyle, but she doesn't have the right to force it down our throats.

Amazing how almost every word out of her mouth is either lies, bullshit, or unintentionally ironic.


Kern cites support from GOP.

Highlights:

A state lawmaker who declared that homosexuality is a greater threat to the United States than terrorism said Monday that she received a standing ovation from her fellow Republican legislators Monday.

Rep. Sally Kern, R-Oklahoma City, said she has been barraged with more than 5,000 e-mails since she made national headlines over the weekend. Most of the communications were critical, and several contained language that Kern said she has never heard before. . . .

Kern said many of those who sent her electronic messages would deny her right to free speech.


Language she'd never heard before, eh? So in her many years of self-righteous bigotry, nobody had ever called her a turgid, bile-soaked shitbag?

Nobody had ever referred to her as a cheese-crusted, horsefucking, yeasty old cunt?

Nobody ever told her to shut her cockholster and get back in the kitchen?

Nobody ever invited her to climb a wall of dicks?*

Nobody ever offered to skullfuck that rancid puree of goat testicle and pig's vomit that she calls a brain right out of her head?

Nobody ever issued her a fuck-yourself invitation to an eat shit and die party, where she could drink a frosty mug of shut the fuck up and have a slice of fuck-you-upside-down-cake?

And nobody ever offered to use the rolled-up New Testament to funnel live spiders up her leathery ass until they came crawling out of her glassy, fanatical eyeballs?

I find that very fucking hard to believe.

I also find it hard to believe she can't understand that this isn't about "free speech," it's about not being a hatemongering, pus-filled douchebag. It's about not using your position of political power to promote lies and hate.


OSBI reading Kern e-mails.

Highlights:

Kern said Monday that she had not received death threats. On Tuesday, she said, "It's changed," but she did not elaborate.

[Oklahoma State Bureau of Investigation spokeswoman Jessica] Brown said Tuesday, "There are a lot of e-mails to the representative that say, 'You ought to die,' rather than, 'I am going to kill you.'

"I wouldn't characterize them as death threats," she said.

But Brown said OSBI computer analysts are working to find the senders and that some might be interviewed to assess their intent. She said it's possible that the OSBI will refer some to district attorneys for prosecution.

Three OSBI agents are reviewing the e-mails and listening to telephone calls received by Kern, whose husband is a Baptist minister.


If she has received genuine death threats ("I am going to come to your house and beat you to death with a double-ended dog-dick dildo!") as opposed to helpful suggestions and best wishes ("Why don't you choke to death on mule smegma? I hope you die of an explosive ass prolapse!"), that is unfortunate, because it's only going to play straight into her worst opinions. On the other hand, it's nice to know that she now understands the tiniest bit of how it feels to be fucking hated and loathed, as she seems to have this idea that gay people have so much power and influence that nobody ever gives them any grief at all, and they get everything they want.

A lot of straight fundie Christians have this persecution thing going on, and they really have no fucking idea just how good they have it. I'm glad to know she's getting a taste of her own horseshit flavored medicine.

She has reportedly gotten over 5,000 emails, which I think is far fewer than she deserves. The majority of them, unsurprisingly, have been "critical."

I encourage those of you who have not written to write, even if it's just a one-line email saying that you heard her remarks, and that you think that in her utter, bigoted incompetence, she should be removed from office.

At any rate, think about giving the OSBI folks something interesting to read. I'm sure many of them must find her words just as vile as we do. Why not brighten their day?

I wrote a letter, if you want to read it. )

And this letter has surfaced, supposedly by a teenage boy named Tucker.

I don't know if it's real, if it is, it is absolutely heartbreaking. I think it ought to be read, and it ought to be emailed to Mrs. Kern repeatedly.

Read more below. )

If Tucker is a real boy, and this is a real letter, and his is a real story, I wish him the best in getting the fuck out of here. And I hope his words find whatever shriveled monkey turd Mrs. Kern has for a heart and sink deeply in.

Words have power, and I don't think that reprehensible asswits like her really realize the damage they are capable of doing. Hateful religious choads hardly ever understand the repercussions their words have when filtered through the bullshit-stuffed brains of those even less intelligent than they are. People looking to be led are dangerous, and they will do dangerous things. It's fanaticism. I have seen it at work.

I remember April 19, 1995. I remember the Pulitzer-winning photo, the grief-filled and tender look on the fireman's face as he cradled the dying Baylee Almon. As much as I loathe playing to the "poor little children" angle, that was sincerely one of the most upsetting things I have ever seen in my life. Watching it unfold on the news was like a nightmare.

That was the work of a "Christian." And Mrs. Kern would have us believe that it's those pesky faggots who are the real threat.

If I were running for mayor, would she find my urge to make passionate love to Angelina Jolie's left thigh more horrifying than my occasional urge to throttle mouth-breathing fundamentalist troglodytes? Apparently so, since Mrs. Kern thinks the idea of a homosexual elected to public office is more frightening than the cooling corpse of a child.

A fag in office is scarier than a dead baby.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the priorities of the conservative Christian.

Rep. Sally Kern
Capitol Address:
2300 N. Lincoln Blvd.
Room 332
Oklahoma City, OK 73105
(405) 557-7348

District Address:
2713 Sterling Ave.
Oklahoma City, OK 73127

Email:
sallykern@okhouse.gov

Edit: Apparently her priorities may also include putting fanaticism ahead of her own children. Rumor has it that Mrs. Kern has a gay son. There is some very interesting psychoanalysis going on at the end of the article re: her paranoia about gays. I don't know if any of this is true, but if it is . . . things could get very interesting.

* Can't take credit for that one. Sorry.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Abort Born-Again Christians)
This entry contains swearing. You've been alerted.

Follow-ups on the bigoted fanatic, Rep. Sally Kern:

Oklahoma legislator defends leaked anti-gay comments.

Highlights )

Oklahoma legislator's anti-gay comments stir hostile reaction.

Highlights )

She has the right to choose her bass-ackwards sphincter-sniffing lifestyle, but she doesn't have the right to force it down our throats.

Amazing how almost every word out of her mouth is either lies, bullshit, or unintentionally ironic.


Kern cites support from GOP.

Highlights:

A state lawmaker who declared that homosexuality is a greater threat to the United States than terrorism said Monday that she received a standing ovation from her fellow Republican legislators Monday.

Rep. Sally Kern, R-Oklahoma City, said she has been barraged with more than 5,000 e-mails since she made national headlines over the weekend. Most of the communications were critical, and several contained language that Kern said she has never heard before. . . .

Kern said many of those who sent her electronic messages would deny her right to free speech.


Language she'd never heard before, eh? So in her many years of self-righteous bigotry, nobody had ever called her a turgid, bile-soaked shitbag?

Nobody had ever referred to her as a cheese-crusted, horsefucking, yeasty old cunt?

Nobody ever told her to shut her cockholster and get back in the kitchen?

Nobody ever invited her to climb a wall of dicks?*

Nobody ever offered to skullfuck that rancid puree of goat testicle and pig's vomit that she calls a brain right out of her head?

Nobody ever issued her a fuck-yourself invitation to an eat shit and die party, where she could drink a frosty mug of shut the fuck up and have a slice of fuck-you-upside-down-cake?

And nobody ever offered to use the rolled-up New Testament to funnel live spiders up her leathery ass until they came crawling out of her glassy, fanatical eyeballs?

I find that very fucking hard to believe.

I also find it hard to believe she can't understand that this isn't about "free speech," it's about not being a hatemongering, pus-filled douchebag. It's about not using your position of political power to promote lies and hate.


OSBI reading Kern e-mails.

Highlights:

Kern said Monday that she had not received death threats. On Tuesday, she said, "It's changed," but she did not elaborate.

[Oklahoma State Bureau of Investigation spokeswoman Jessica] Brown said Tuesday, "There are a lot of e-mails to the representative that say, 'You ought to die,' rather than, 'I am going to kill you.'

"I wouldn't characterize them as death threats," she said.

But Brown said OSBI computer analysts are working to find the senders and that some might be interviewed to assess their intent. She said it's possible that the OSBI will refer some to district attorneys for prosecution.

Three OSBI agents are reviewing the e-mails and listening to telephone calls received by Kern, whose husband is a Baptist minister.


If she has received genuine death threats ("I am going to come to your house and beat you to death with a double-ended dog-dick dildo!") as opposed to helpful suggestions and best wishes ("Why don't you choke to death on mule smegma? I hope you die of an explosive ass prolapse!"), that is unfortunate, because it's only going to play straight into her worst opinions. On the other hand, it's nice to know that she now understands the tiniest bit of how it feels to be fucking hated and loathed, as she seems to have this idea that gay people have so much power and influence that nobody ever gives them any grief at all, and they get everything they want.

A lot of straight fundie Christians have this persecution thing going on, and they really have no fucking idea just how good they have it. I'm glad to know she's getting a taste of her own horseshit flavored medicine.

She has reportedly gotten over 5,000 emails, which I think is far fewer than she deserves. The majority of them, unsurprisingly, have been "critical."

I encourage those of you who have not written to write, even if it's just a one-line email saying that you heard her remarks, and that you think that in her utter, bigoted incompetence, she should be removed from office.

At any rate, think about giving the OSBI folks something interesting to read. I'm sure many of them must find her words just as vile as we do. Why not brighten their day?

I wrote a letter, if you want to read it. )

And this letter has surfaced, supposedly by a teenage boy named Tucker.

I don't know if it's real, if it is, it is absolutely heartbreaking. I think it ought to be read, and it ought to be emailed to Mrs. Kern repeatedly.

Read more below. )

If Tucker is a real boy, and this is a real letter, and his is a real story, I wish him the best in getting the fuck out of here. And I hope his words find whatever shriveled monkey turd Mrs. Kern has for a heart and sink deeply in.

Words have power, and I don't think that reprehensible asswits like her really realize the damage they are capable of doing. Hateful religious choads hardly ever understand the repercussions their words have when filtered through the bullshit-stuffed brains of those even less intelligent than they are. People looking to be led are dangerous, and they will do dangerous things. It's fanaticism. I have seen it at work.

I remember April 19, 1995. I remember the Pulitzer-winning photo, the grief-filled and tender look on the fireman's face as he cradled the dying Baylee Almon. As much as I loathe playing to the "poor little children" angle, that was sincerely one of the most upsetting things I have ever seen in my life. Watching it unfold on the news was like a nightmare.

That was the work of a "Christian." And Mrs. Kern would have us believe that it's those pesky faggots who are the real threat.

If I were running for mayor, would she find my urge to make passionate love to Angelina Jolie's left thigh more horrifying than my occasional urge to throttle mouth-breathing fundamentalist troglodytes? Apparently so, since Mrs. Kern thinks the idea of a homosexual elected to public office is more frightening than the cooling corpse of a child.

A fag in office is scarier than a dead baby.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the priorities of the conservative Christian.

Rep. Sally Kern
Capitol Address:
2300 N. Lincoln Blvd.
Room 332
Oklahoma City, OK 73105
(405) 557-7348

District Address:
2713 Sterling Ave.
Oklahoma City, OK 73127

Email:
sallykern@okhouse.gov

Edit: Apparently her priorities may also include putting fanaticism ahead of her own children. Rumor has it that Mrs. Kern has a gay son. There is some very interesting psychoanalysis going on at the end of the article re: her paranoia about gays. I don't know if any of this is true, but if it is . . . things could get very interesting.

* Can't take credit for that one. Sorry.
naamah_darling: Animated icon of Ioan Gruffudd looking very pissed with a succession of horrible profanity added. (Tourette's)
Today, my dulcet darlings, is the third anniversary of my arrival at Livejournal. And in celebration of three years of misanthropy, bitching, and piratical language, I have prepared a special treat for you.

You want me to write an entry about how to swear? Here it is, exhaustively. Everything I have learned on the subject in one obscenely long post.

I contemplated breaking it up into smaller pieces, but I'm not on anything resembling a regular schedule and was afraid the rest would fall by the wayside. So, without further ado, I present my manifesto.

Swearing. )

This is a broad subject, and I could go on at even greater length. I will, very shortly, be providing a post full of recent examples culled from my most vitriolic moments. (To that end, if you have any favorites, do let me know.)

However, I believe that the best way to learn is by doing, and so I encourage all of you to practice every day. You will soon see results; I've only been swearing seriously for about three years, and of that, I have only really devoted myself to it in the past year or so.

If you work at it, and work hard, you will never again be caught flat-footed in the checkout lane when some douchebagging pussyfart asks if he can squeak in ahead of you to pay for his adult diapers with a jar full of Moldavian pennies. Never again will you be at a loss for words when some subliterate, corner-pissing imbecile bangs on your door at nine in the morning to ask if you've found the Lord. No more will you scramble for words when some ape-felching shitnugget insists on ruining your dinner-and-a-movie date by carrying on a cell phone conversation in a crowded theater.

Swearing, like virtue, is its own reward.
naamah_darling: Animated icon of Ioan Gruffudd looking very pissed with a succession of horrible profanity added. (Tourette's)
Today, my dulcet darlings, is the third anniversary of my arrival at Livejournal. And in celebration of three years of misanthropy, bitching, and piratical language, I have prepared a special treat for you.

You want me to write an entry about how to swear? Here it is, exhaustively. Everything I have learned on the subject in one obscenely long post.

I contemplated breaking it up into smaller pieces, but I'm not on anything resembling a regular schedule and was afraid the rest would fall by the wayside. So, without further ado, I present my manifesto.

Swearing. )

This is a broad subject, and I could go on at even greater length. I will, very shortly, be providing a post full of recent examples culled from my most vitriolic moments. (To that end, if you have any favorites, do let me know.)

However, I believe that the best way to learn is by doing, and so I encourage all of you to practice every day. You will soon see results; I've only been swearing seriously for about three years, and of that, I have only really devoted myself to it in the past year or so.

If you work at it, and work hard, you will never again be caught flat-footed in the checkout lane when some douchebagging pussyfart asks if he can squeak in ahead of you to pay for his adult diapers with a jar full of Moldavian pennies. Never again will you be at a loss for words when some subliterate, corner-pissing imbecile bangs on your door at nine in the morning to ask if you've found the Lord. No more will you scramble for words when some ape-felching shitnugget insists on ruining your dinner-and-a-movie date by carrying on a cell phone conversation in a crowded theater.

Swearing, like virtue, is its own reward.
naamah_darling: A wolf with its jaws wide open, and FUCK! written between them. (Fuck!)
You all seem consistently surprised by the quality of my swearing.

I assure you, it's not as easy as it looks.

Now, I want to tell you all that you'll be seeing a lot of cussing from me in the next few weeks. I figure that the sort of person bothered by swearing isn't the sort of person who would be reading me anyway, so I'm probably safe from sanctimonious, fist-humping morons whose delicate sensibilities, like the tender rectal membrane, are so easily torn by a careless "FUCK."

Why am I going to be swearing more? Good question. Because I'm trying to get back in the jolly fuck-you spirit. I realized last night, after swearing a lot, that it felt damn good to be doing it again. I haven't been swearing all that much, and I think it's high time I remedied that. Plus, I'm shortly going to be dealing with a character who swears like a drill sergeant, so I figure this is good practice. But trying to do this in person . . . wow, it's hard! It just highlights the difference between print and reality.

You're all aware by now that when I write, swearing is second nature. I'm inventive and obscene. But, friends and neighbors, that's because I have time. The ten seconds it takes me to type a sentence are the only ten seconds I need to come up with some off-the-cuff profanity, like "smarmy, sphincter-winking little man-bitch" or "maggot-cocked, cuntsucking biter of dangling dog tits."

But in real life, it's just not as easy to whip off a "Why don't you stagger off and fuck a syphilitic bum, you pustulent rectal fistula?" on the spur of the moment. There just isn't time to think of it. Oh, those of you who have met me in person will probably insist that I do okay, but the spirit is most definitely not always present. Sometimes I get tongue-tied, and all I can do is mutter a surly and ineffective "Fuck you, you . . . you . . . you fucker!" and go on about my vaguely dissatisfied business. I am left with l'esprit de l'escalier, and two hours later I catch myself screaming "Fuck a flaming shit-smeared fencepost, you gaping perineal tear!" at some unsuspecting jerkoff pusnuts in the parking lot of the grocery store because I am still angry about whatever happened earlier, and by god, the words have finally come.

But to call it up at will, now that is a trick. That sort of familiarity with cursing doesn't come easily. I'm fairly fluent, but I still only manage a real zinger about half the time. I've been honing this art for years on my cats and the neighbors' dogs, but it's intermittent practice at best. So I figure that I'd better get my hypertrophied retard ass in gear and start really working at it. This means a lot of gratiutous overflow swearing will no doubt start creeping into my everyday language. Into my writing, even, if last night's late and terribly angry post is to be any example. Consider yourself warned, you pickle-dick pusbags.

When I was learning Spanish, I'd sometimes just use Spanish words for things without thinking. I'm sure this will be the same. Swearing will creep in. "These dishes are annoying me!" will become "This festering pile of smegma-smeared crap is sitting on my last goddamn nerve, and I swear to Mary's red-rimmed asshole I'd fuck a dead goat if the goat would just lever its leaking ass over here and lend me a fucking hand."

Ah, Christ, a good tirade . . . it brings a tear to the eye.

All this just in time for Christmas and its constellation of polite social gatherings, too. Life of the fucking party, that's me.

And just because it tickled my funny bone, here, have the results of a surprisingly relevant swearing quiz. )
naamah_darling: A wolf with its jaws wide open, and FUCK! written between them. (Fuck!)
You all seem consistently surprised by the quality of my swearing.

I assure you, it's not as easy as it looks.

Now, I want to tell you all that you'll be seeing a lot of cussing from me in the next few weeks. I figure that the sort of person bothered by swearing isn't the sort of person who would be reading me anyway, so I'm probably safe from sanctimonious, fist-humping morons whose delicate sensibilities, like the tender rectal membrane, are so easily torn by a careless "FUCK."

Why am I going to be swearing more? Good question. Because I'm trying to get back in the jolly fuck-you spirit. I realized last night, after swearing a lot, that it felt damn good to be doing it again. I haven't been swearing all that much, and I think it's high time I remedied that. Plus, I'm shortly going to be dealing with a character who swears like a drill sergeant, so I figure this is good practice. But trying to do this in person . . . wow, it's hard! It just highlights the difference between print and reality.

You're all aware by now that when I write, swearing is second nature. I'm inventive and obscene. But, friends and neighbors, that's because I have time. The ten seconds it takes me to type a sentence are the only ten seconds I need to come up with some off-the-cuff profanity, like "smarmy, sphincter-winking little man-bitch" or "maggot-cocked, cuntsucking biter of dangling dog tits."

But in real life, it's just not as easy to whip off a "Why don't you stagger off and fuck a syphilitic bum, you pustulent rectal fistula?" on the spur of the moment. There just isn't time to think of it. Oh, those of you who have met me in person will probably insist that I do okay, but the spirit is most definitely not always present. Sometimes I get tongue-tied, and all I can do is mutter a surly and ineffective "Fuck you, you . . . you . . . you fucker!" and go on about my vaguely dissatisfied business. I am left with l'esprit de l'escalier, and two hours later I catch myself screaming "Fuck a flaming shit-smeared fencepost, you gaping perineal tear!" at some unsuspecting jerkoff pusnuts in the parking lot of the grocery store because I am still angry about whatever happened earlier, and by god, the words have finally come.

But to call it up at will, now that is a trick. That sort of familiarity with cursing doesn't come easily. I'm fairly fluent, but I still only manage a real zinger about half the time. I've been honing this art for years on my cats and the neighbors' dogs, but it's intermittent practice at best. So I figure that I'd better get my hypertrophied retard ass in gear and start really working at it. This means a lot of gratiutous overflow swearing will no doubt start creeping into my everyday language. Into my writing, even, if last night's late and terribly angry post is to be any example. Consider yourself warned, you pickle-dick pusbags.

When I was learning Spanish, I'd sometimes just use Spanish words for things without thinking. I'm sure this will be the same. Swearing will creep in. "These dishes are annoying me!" will become "This festering pile of smegma-smeared crap is sitting on my last goddamn nerve, and I swear to Mary's red-rimmed asshole I'd fuck a dead goat if the goat would just lever its leaking ass over here and lend me a fucking hand."

Ah, Christ, a good tirade . . . it brings a tear to the eye.

All this just in time for Christmas and its constellation of polite social gatherings, too. Life of the fucking party, that's me.

And just because it tickled my funny bone, here, have the results of a surprisingly relevant swearing quiz. )
naamah_darling: Animated icon of Ioan Gruffudd looking very pissed with a succession of horrible profanity added. (Tourette's)
Gosh! The new update page is Livejournal for tooth-sucking halfwits! I wouldn't complain, since everyone else is doing it for me, but I have something to contribute above and beyond the by-now-cliché "I don't like it." I have had a bad day, and as a result, there's a lot of profanity built up.

Livejournal has unveiled a parade of freak-show "fixes" this year. First the inescapable nav strips like perpetual nuts in the face, and the sponsored "ne plus ultra" journal category that straddles the paid/free line like an itchy lapsed-Catholic slut considering going pro, then the passive-aggressive auto-switching to the new and sucktastic Horizon default view with a journal interface that spat up cookies like a bulimic on prom night, then the first new annoying but workable update page which was as awkward as being caught three fingers into your own sister after one beer too many, then the popup hover menus which mysteriously appeared overnight like plague sores, then LJ Talk which I will never fucking use because the last thing I need is more ways for people to fucking demand my time by wanting to talk about cats and maxi pads, then the "tips" bullshit on the update end page which was so self-consciously cute and utterly un-called-for it was like watching a kitten/Shirley Temple hybrid lick its own underdeveloped anus, then the Alzheimers'-raddled userpic "browse" option that displays all of my icons in no known order, and now this maggot-choked pile of festering dog vomit.

Livejournal? I have loved you in the past until you leak from all your fugly holes, but you are very close to feeling the wrath of my pimp stick, if you know what I mean. I am sick of you trying to make things "better" by fucking them up. Want to make things better? Shut up and go fix a fucking sandwich, watch some Batman cartoons, and quit your infernal meddling. You're worse than a 3rd-grade school counselor trying to play cool with the little nosepickers by pretending to know what Poke-man is.

It wouldn't be so bad, Livejournal, if you didn't just inflict all of these things on us, sometimes without warning or telling us how to opt out of it. Or, hey, even building in an opt-out at all. I can't turn off annoying bug-eyed anime icons, colorbars, whiny song lyrics, pointless fucking quizzes, or those godforsaken and detestable fucking baby ticker things. The least you could do is let me turn off the annoying shit you do to me. Please, Livejournal, preserve your own dignity and do not piss on yourself any more. The denizens of Livejournal piss on your dignity quite enough already. Do you have to open your mouth to gargle it?

All this add-on shit is not more convenient or personal or intuitive. It's just fucking stupid-looking, okay? Especially on a widescreen monitor. So knock it off, already.

I know I'm coming across as an ungrateful, vindictive cunt who is basically complaining about nothing at all. I realize I'm lucky to be able to sit on my lard-plastered ass in a country with hot and cold running water and cable porn and complain about the user interface to a completely imaginary place. I realize that there are more important things I could be worrying about, like posting pictures of cats or, Christ save us all, fucking perfume reviews. I also know that I have been, overall, satisfied with your performance. Your holes are adequately deep, sufficiently warm, and pleasingly moist. And yet, I can't decide if you're A) dead or dying or B) just a big whore. These constant corrections could be interpreted as the agonal death throes of a freshly-thumped rat. Then again, your shameless retooling of what was fine to begin with smacks of a jaded whore's automatic but unnecessary ball-tongueing. Which is it, Livejournal? Snake food or snatch for hire? Perhaps C) both.

How about, instead of trying to "attract new users" you just concentrate on not pissing off your nine billion other Johns? Excuse me. Users. I'm not a professional business dong or anything, but I think that might be slightly more productive in the long run. If I had a paid account, and not a permanent one, I'd be letting it lapse about now just to drive my point home into your slopeheaded, Mongoloid skull. The kind of finger-sniffing trephination fans you'll attract by gutting yourself and inviting all and sundry to ass-rape the carcass of what was once a functional site are not the kinds of people I want to associate with. If I wanted subliterate ramblings rendered in a diarrhea of retarded blinky fonts, I'd go suck the smegma-rimmed sphincter of Myspace. And don't you fucking "Vox" me, you mother-pimping panderers to the lowest common denominator. That shit is even more insultingly dumbed-down and oversimplified than this remedial whoremongery, and is furthermore about as tacky and boring as a dead rat in a shiny Lucite brick.

In short, Livejournal, I love you because your rotting corpse is still host to a legion of my friends, but I now find your services about as desirable as a dry fuck.

And you, you other denizens of the Land of Eljay. Go and make your feelings known.
naamah_darling: Animated icon of Ioan Gruffudd looking very pissed with a succession of horrible profanity added. (Tourette's)
Gosh! The new update page is Livejournal for tooth-sucking halfwits! I wouldn't complain, since everyone else is doing it for me, but I have something to contribute above and beyond the by-now-cliché "I don't like it." I have had a bad day, and as a result, there's a lot of profanity built up.

Livejournal has unveiled a parade of freak-show "fixes" this year. First the inescapable nav strips like perpetual nuts in the face, and the sponsored "ne plus ultra" journal category that straddles the paid/free line like an itchy lapsed-Catholic slut considering going pro, then the passive-aggressive auto-switching to the new and sucktastic Horizon default view with a journal interface that spat up cookies like a bulimic on prom night, then the first new annoying but workable update page which was as awkward as being caught three fingers into your own sister after one beer too many, then the popup hover menus which mysteriously appeared overnight like plague sores, then LJ Talk which I will never fucking use because the last thing I need is more ways for people to fucking demand my time by wanting to talk about cats and maxi pads, then the "tips" bullshit on the update end page which was so self-consciously cute and utterly un-called-for it was like watching a kitten/Shirley Temple hybrid lick its own underdeveloped anus, then the Alzheimers'-raddled userpic "browse" option that displays all of my icons in no known order, and now this maggot-choked pile of festering dog vomit.

Livejournal? I have loved you in the past until you leak from all your fugly holes, but you are very close to feeling the wrath of my pimp stick, if you know what I mean. I am sick of you trying to make things "better" by fucking them up. Want to make things better? Shut up and go fix a fucking sandwich, watch some Batman cartoons, and quit your infernal meddling. You're worse than a 3rd-grade school counselor trying to play cool with the little nosepickers by pretending to know what Poke-man is.

It wouldn't be so bad, Livejournal, if you didn't just inflict all of these things on us, sometimes without warning or telling us how to opt out of it. Or, hey, even building in an opt-out at all. I can't turn off annoying bug-eyed anime icons, colorbars, whiny song lyrics, pointless fucking quizzes, or those godforsaken and detestable fucking baby ticker things. The least you could do is let me turn off the annoying shit you do to me. Please, Livejournal, preserve your own dignity and do not piss on yourself any more. The denizens of Livejournal piss on your dignity quite enough already. Do you have to open your mouth to gargle it?

All this add-on shit is not more convenient or personal or intuitive. It's just fucking stupid-looking, okay? Especially on a widescreen monitor. So knock it off, already.

I know I'm coming across as an ungrateful, vindictive cunt who is basically complaining about nothing at all. I realize I'm lucky to be able to sit on my lard-plastered ass in a country with hot and cold running water and cable porn and complain about the user interface to a completely imaginary place. I realize that there are more important things I could be worrying about, like posting pictures of cats or, Christ save us all, fucking perfume reviews. I also know that I have been, overall, satisfied with your performance. Your holes are adequately deep, sufficiently warm, and pleasingly moist. And yet, I can't decide if you're A) dead or dying or B) just a big whore. These constant corrections could be interpreted as the agonal death throes of a freshly-thumped rat. Then again, your shameless retooling of what was fine to begin with smacks of a jaded whore's automatic but unnecessary ball-tongueing. Which is it, Livejournal? Snake food or snatch for hire? Perhaps C) both.

How about, instead of trying to "attract new users" you just concentrate on not pissing off your nine billion other Johns? Excuse me. Users. I'm not a professional business dong or anything, but I think that might be slightly more productive in the long run. If I had a paid account, and not a permanent one, I'd be letting it lapse about now just to drive my point home into your slopeheaded, Mongoloid skull. The kind of finger-sniffing trephination fans you'll attract by gutting yourself and inviting all and sundry to ass-rape the carcass of what was once a functional site are not the kinds of people I want to associate with. If I wanted subliterate ramblings rendered in a diarrhea of retarded blinky fonts, I'd go suck the smegma-rimmed sphincter of Myspace. And don't you fucking "Vox" me, you mother-pimping panderers to the lowest common denominator. That shit is even more insultingly dumbed-down and oversimplified than this remedial whoremongery, and is furthermore about as tacky and boring as a dead rat in a shiny Lucite brick.

In short, Livejournal, I love you because your rotting corpse is still host to a legion of my friends, but I now find your services about as desirable as a dry fuck.

And you, you other denizens of the Land of Eljay. Go and make your feelings known.

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