unamaga: (STFU)
unamaga ([personal profile] unamaga) wrote2006-09-08 02:51 am
Entry tags:

i've got a lovely bunch of coconuts

I have a really, really strong urge to light something on fire. I don't know what, and I'm not particuarly angry, I just long with all of my being to take a match to something flammable.

Does that make me a bad person?

Maybe I've just been away from the chemistry labs for too long. It's been a while since I got to blow any lab tables up or get 10M HCl all over my hands. Say whatever you want about theoretical chemistry, but lab chemistry is pretty frigging awesome--especially when you get to work with the caustic stuff. Mmm, caustic.

And speaking of caustic, have some abandoned!fic lines.

---

"There's something there, Jensen knows, something sweet and soft in the curve of Jared's face buried against a pillow. But Jared keeps that secret tucked close under his chin and across the freckled bridge of his nose, like it's as precious to him as Jensen is."


"When little Sammy broke his leg for the first time, Dean went promptly crazy. John remembers it with absolute clarity and just-as-absolute terror."


"You're insane, Jensen declares after a full minute of silence. A bowling alley? I thought you said this was gonna be a kinky fuck.
Jared grins, twirling a straw between his ridiculously long fingers. It will be, he says. Jensen mumbles something rude under his breath about Jared's lack of imagination. Oh, Jensen, Jensen, devil's in the details. After all, who said I was going to be fucking you with my dick?"


"Sam tipped sideways, still half asleep, as the car jolted to an abrupt stop on the side of a dusty highway. He landed half on Dean and half crammed into the foot-well, knees around his ears and feet in his eyes. Dean, however uncomfortable Sam was, looked like he was worse off. His face was an unnatural shade of white, hands gripping the wheel so tight Sam could hear the grind of cartilidge and bone."

---

In other news, there is a large congregation of high, stinky, loud students right under my dorm window. It is nearly 3AM and I cannot sleep for all of their blabbering and screaming.

Pls send waterballoons.

[identity profile] polyspaston.livejournal.com 2006-09-08 02:41 pm (UTC)(link)
I HATED chemistry. The chemistry labs at school always stunk of some horrible oily tarry stuff, and we had this teacher, Mrs Boot, who was so crap she carried on talking even after Selina in our class had tied her to her chair.

Selina was like that.

Or there was Ms...dude what was her name? JOHNSON. Man. Hated her. She shouted. And therefore Chemistry was awful.

Until we got a bloke who decided he knew how to turn sea water into gold. He looked like Father Christmas, and he knew about the cool side of chemistry :0P He was fantastic. But the rooms still smelt so I was beyond saving.

Anyway, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, would be my motto, unless you're in a skimpy nightie like I was once or twice, in which case, you just have to go outside in said skimpy nightie and tell them politely to shut the fagging hell up. For some reason, the nightie is a key part in this operation.

Oh, and setting things on fire? Get a pair of jeans, put them on, spray wtih deoderant, put a lighter to them. It wrecks your jeans quite nicely. Mr Me used to do it just to scare me and/or look macho. It just used to scare me, to be honest.

[identity profile] unamaga.livejournal.com 2006-09-08 04:10 pm (UTC)(link)
I, unfortunately, do not own a skimpy nightie. I wear hawaiian-print pajama bottoms and old tie-dyed t-shirts to bed. :(

Maybe I should rectify that?