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Sorry Aja, I just had to post this [07 Jun 2002|02:28am] [ mood | artistic ] [ music | The Sound of Music ] With a few revisions, to get the fukker to rhyme Julie Andrews On: Raindrops on Draco and Harry a-quiver Sweet smutlet cookies designed to give shivers Brooding dark Snape with greasy black hair These are a few of our favourite snares Shy gentle werewolf learning to rim Red-haired identical edible twins Grudges and passion and lusty boy-fights These are a few of our favourite sights When the curse bites When the scar stings When we need some pr0ny We simply remember our favourite things and then we don't feel so hr0ny whip some cream, pick a cherry

Still raining [07 Jun 2002|01:01am] [ mood | cheerful ] and I feel great today. *winks at Aja* Balloons, cake, whistles- anyone? The_feeling_good_party *laughs* xox Isilya 3 sundaes| whip some cream, pick a cherry

Let's throw a party for cliches [07 Jun 2002|12:53am] [ mood | bitchy ] Bah, just spent the day reading fiction, and I can't resist a rant. And I know this has been ranted about before, but.... Cliches are a device; best used sparingly and for intended effect- not sloshed all over the place as though they are going out of fashion . Cliches are cliches for a reason. They are tired. They are worn, like a pair of old shoes . Cliches are unhelpful tonally or visually. If you wish your descriptions to be interesting, fresh and appealing to a reader- cliches are best avoided. A lot of writers say: But I write for myself! I don't consciously write for others! It is more satisfying to express something in your own words than to resort to a cliche as old as the hills . To, at the very least, take a step beyond the old slippers and meet that small challenge. And certain cliches are just guaranteed to make any reader roll their eyes: raven hair anyone? smoky grey eyes? piercing green orbs? Just.... gah! whip some cream, pick a cherry

The drought breaks [04 Jun 2002|12:07am] [ mood | peaceful ] We have been waiting anxiously , like grizzled stock farmers, for the first winter rains to roll in- the last three years have been heart-wrenchingly dry. We had two showers in May. Bright, crisp cool days, delicious apple days in abundance- but only four measly millimetres of rain. And then on Saturday, the first official day of winter, the rains came. I have a big, old federation house: tin roof and wide, deep verandahs. I can hear the rain sheeting off the roof into the gutters; hear it plishing against the ground, smell it, almost feel the ground drinking, drinking. Delicious. whip some cream, pick a cherry

I have three lj clients!! [31 May 2002|12:05pm] [ mood | chipper ] [ music | Beat Freakz: Get Out Of My Life [Beat Freakz Club Mix] ] *woot* An excess indeed! They all do different things, for example this one lets me work offline or online, and edit my old entries from a calender view. Very very cool. Don't you wish you had OS X? *smirk* whip some cream, pick a cherry

No pearls over here... [30 May 2002|06:59pm] [ mood | mischievous ] [ music | Feel What You Want [Deep Swing Vocal Mix]-Kristine W-The Funky Summer Sounds Of The UK Clubs ] 2 sundaes| whip some cream, pick a cherry

religion depresses me [30 May 2002|05:04pm] [ mood | gloomy ] [ music | The Nothingness (Chaos In A Box Remix)-Sonic Animation-Orchid For The Afterworld (Afterworld) ] Hah! Eighteen years of bible immersion, and you'd think I'd have a few clues by now. When I was little, I could sing all 52 chapters, and the inside of my head looks somewhat like a concordance, I daresay. I should just leave well enough alone. whip some cream, pick a cherry

Starch [30 May 2002|01:55pm] [ mood | amused ] [ music | Not Ready Yet-eels-Beautiful Freak ] is my god. Nothing fills me up and pushes my buttons quite like starch. Baked potatoes, pasta, bread.... mmmmmm And the only acceptably burgundy is that of pasta sauce and rasberry chocolate cake. Those misguided, pearl-wearing, Volvo-driving, saddle-bum waddling characters who think it is an attractive colour for a homepage, sadly, no. Just NO. To whoever wrote the Compatibility test- Perhaps you meant complementary? Complimentary means free, or flattering. whip some cream, pick a cherry

Oh yes, I am easily amused [30 May 2002|01:17am] [ mood | artistic ] whip some cream, pick a cherry

Congratulations [29 May 2002|08:45pm] [ mood | enthralled ] To all the new Veelababes, Looking forward to things to come! xox Isilya whip some cream, pick a cherry

Fun with a fic and a poetry generator [28 May 2002|04:56pm] [ mood | ditzy ] [ music | Ben Harper and The Innocent Criminals ] Just hot, sweaty, awkward Neville, moaning helplessly with the fragile notches on his spine turning blue with a bead of his lips turning blue with a shudder, he remembers. Draco punctuates his agreement. "Worthless." gasp shiver thrill He could make Draco breathe, Now, the flick of the congealing blood stains with a slap. He shivers as he remembers as glorious as glorious as he mouths silently, stuttering as a shudder, he felt a shudder, he steadies his eyes. whip some cream, pick a cherry

Ummmmmmmmmmmmmm [28 May 2002|03:57pm] [ mood | drunk ] [ music | Ben Harper and The Innocent Criminals ] *drifts along on the caramelness of Ben Harper's *just gah* voice............* *slides off chair* MMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm *edited to say I did not realise the lj icon for "drunk" was quite so repulsive... I meant a dreamy, floaty, music induced drunkeness. They drew a nauseating, nauseated vodka induced drunkeness...ROFLMAO* whip some cream, pick a cherry

Ron is a tit [28 May 2002|03:39pm] [ mood | exhausted ] [ music | Ben Harper: Steal My Kisses ] I will never understand Harry/Ron as a fluff ship. When I read the books, I see -something pretty close to hatred laying tightly coiled in the two boys. Ron nurses his resentment of Harry tenderly, feeding it and taking offence at imagined slights. Ron is a small, stupid boy: he is a buffoon with a deep,dark, envious streak. He buys Harry thoughtless Christmas gifts: stinkbombs from Zonko's which, though nice enough, exhibit no thought, not at all like Hermione's carefully chosen presents. Ron sulk, holds grudges, acts irrationally, refuses to listen to sense, loses his temper, is not at all clever. He treats Hermione abominably: first insulting her with his non-invitation to the Yule Ball, his statements about basically taking the best-looking girl he could get, his brooding at the actual event itself, his attacks on her for 'teaming up with Krum'. He hates Harry's fame, yet clings to it. He turns Harry away: insults him angrily, distrusts him, assumes that Harry is lying to him. He is constantly moaning, whining. He's quite thick. He has no tact. As for Harry's friendship with Ron: read the end of Chapter 19, GoF 'There you go,' Harry said. 'Something for you to wear on Tuesday. You might even have a scar now, if you're lucky... that's what you want, isn't it?' Yet Harry does need Ron- he needs a sidekick. We need comic relief, in a way, otherwise the books would be simply brainy Granger and moody Potter. But there is so much lying between the two, so much drama, such a large gap in both experience and understanding, that I do not understand Harry/Ron fluff. Harry, after all, has seen a young man he liked killed because he was the Spare. He has experienced his mother's death screams. He has been tied to a gravestone and bled to resurrect the Dark Lord. Harry has battled a basilisk, been betrayed by the press, been both the hero and the villain, at alternate times (Philosopher's Stone, and CoS) and simultaneously (GoF), had a man melt under his hands. Harry has grown up with abuse, under the public eye. He has visions of Voldemort's evil. Ron is a tit. I can see the pairing working for some very interesting angst- I like the snarling Harry in GoF, Ch 19. I like his crushing Ron, taunting him with his insignificance, teasing him with his sidekick role. I like angry!Harry, end-of-his-tether!Harry. Hmmmmm. whip some cream, pick a cherry

In my defence [27 May 2002|12:18am] [ mood | exhausted ] In my defence, I am almost certain I would have left well enough alone, if I had known he loved me. ( That 1% of doubt ) whip some cream, pick a cherry

This is the story of a boy I broke. [24 May 2002|01:35am] A year ago now, although it doesn’t seem that far away when I reflect, I threw myself wholeheartedly into being The Perfect Girl. ( come into the dark back room with me ) 1 sundae| whip some cream, pick a cherry

the song [23 May 2002|12:35am] [ mood | shy ] come live with me seduce me wipe my tears when I wake at night curl up in the cold space beside I will make you laugh cook for you and warm your hands we will settle in the deep porch swing and melt into the dusk-pink evening come make me fall caress away control be enough and more and more than enough until our cup runneth over I need to need you Else I will shrivel I won’t die but I will wither loneliness does that it lays me bare flays me scared and two hours from daybreak I’m trapped shivering there come live with me seduce me kiss me sweetly taste me quickly make me fall caress away control hold me and I’ll hold you back I’ll cling and weep and shout and cry and moan and scream and yell and sigh I’ll make you laugh you’ll help me live. we will settle in the deep porch swing and melt into the dusk-pink evening 1 sundae| whip some cream, pick a cherry

My two follies [21 May 2002|11:16pm] [ mood | accomplished ] I'm actually rather pleased with these two: major revision for the D/N makes it seem more savage. Writing the new ending, I was reminded of a quote from, I think, slytherlynx 's journal, something along the lines of: being tied up and whipped until you came helplessly was not humilating: but begging for it was.... And that was very inelegantly expressed. But that was the sentiment behind: Upside Down ; a very dark NC-17 and of course, plain ickiness and a sheer fun to write An Unexpected Interlude That is all whip some cream, pick a cherry

[21 May 2002|01:00pm] [ mood | giggly ] jade1x2: your LJ thing was funny. I was rolling. ( Jade madness ) 3 sundaes| whip some cream, pick a cherry

*sigh* [17 May 2002|06:22pm] [ mood | exhausted ] From the way my body is feeling, you really wouldn't know I've spent the whole day lounging around, drinking Illusions. The most hard work I attempted was driving to the day spa to get my massage. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I hate it when you and you aren't online. At least I have Tim Tam fingers. NB: Strange international readers may have noticed I have a slight Tim Tam addiction. I say to you: If you were Australian, you'd understand. ROAR I hate men. ROAR I FUCKING hate men. I don't have so much of a problem with boys, but men, just shudder shudder, ROAR. Gah. Such a bad mood. Stomping into the video store. YES! I WANT YOU TO LEER AT ME AND FOLLOW ME TO THE CARPARK!! YES!! PLEASE!! I WANT YOU!! you sexy thing with your beer gut and wifebeater and thongs and mullet. yes, you! god, it turns me on when you whistle at me and call me china doll. hold me back, i can barely contain my lust. oh baby, oh baby. 6 sundaes| whip some cream, pick a cherry

Love Letters I have received: [15 May 2002|01:42am] [ mood | trepidatious ] By far the worst included these lines, that have since haunted me: "I can't imagine anything more painful than this. To have fallen in love with you." and closed with: "So. This is my heart on paper." This was an honest to god, terrifyingly honest letter I received from a dear sweet boy. When I'm feeling less *hmmph* I'll probably tell all about it. I count the whole experience as the rottenest low I've sunk to. But anyway, the point of my post: Isn't is sad when all the power of language has been sapped by overuse, overexposure? This is my heart on paper. *yawn* *weep weep* xox Isi whip some cream, pick a cherry

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