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jwaneeta at 02:38am on 01/05/2004
jwaneeta at 02:38am on 01/05/2004*head/desk*
I've tried, I've tried. I've DL'd this clip and trashed-binned it so many times I'm going to need a dumping permit. I reinstalled DivX, even, twice, and my last attempt got This file contains unknown data, download a new version. Gahhh!
I pity my poor self. I'm so vewy tired. I so wanted my week's end eyecandy tweet. *petulantly* And maybe I have pneumonia! I'm so tired! I so need it!
SR. ANGELUS: For the love of God, be silent. You don't have pneumonia. It's called laxity and sloth: "He who loves does not labor."
CYN, waspishly: How would you know?
SR. ANGELUS: An actor and his vanity band, and his black socks! Yes, it's tragic you can't play it on your devil-spawn computer machine.
CYN: I would kill you with my bare hands, Sister, if it would enable me to see James Marsters wearing black socks with jeans. I've never seen The Adorkable in his natural habitat. The dorkiness is either perfectly genuine, or it's the cleverest public persona choice in the history of media, and I must witness it with my own eyes and make my own choice. My peace of soul hinges on it.
SR. ANGELUS: Lost, lost.
CYN: Well, not really, because either way it's pretty cool.
SR. ANGELUS, with deep satisfaction: At this rate you'll never know, will you? Heh.
CYN: Keep it up and you'll be seeing yourself on Komikwerks. *toys casually with stylus* They like you.
SR. ANGELUS: You haven't the energy, pneumoniac.
CYN: Try me. I'll make energy.
SR. ANGELUS: Make time for court, then, cloister offscouring! Spurned bride! Apostate! Hack!
CYN, happily: Eh, this DL failure ain't so bad. Maybe I'll read Crossing into Unchipped Country and Past Glory. And then maybe I'll do some roughs.
SR. ANGELUS: I'll be waiting.
CYN: I'm counting on it, dear Sister.
- Cyn (Fri 2004.04.30 at 11:08 pm EST)
I've tried, I've tried. I've DL'd this clip and trashed-binned it so many times I'm going to need a dumping permit. I reinstalled DivX, even, twice, and my last attempt got This file contains unknown data, download a new version. Gahhh!
I pity my poor self. I'm so vewy tired. I so wanted my week's end eyecandy tweet. *petulantly* And maybe I have pneumonia! I'm so tired! I so need it!
SR. ANGELUS: For the love of God, be silent. You don't have pneumonia. It's called laxity and sloth: "He who loves does not labor."
CYN, waspishly: How would you know?
SR. ANGELUS: An actor and his vanity band, and his black socks! Yes, it's tragic you can't play it on your devil-spawn computer machine.
CYN: I would kill you with my bare hands, Sister, if it would enable me to see James Marsters wearing black socks with jeans. I've never seen The Adorkable in his natural habitat. The dorkiness is either perfectly genuine, or it's the cleverest public persona choice in the history of media, and I must witness it with my own eyes and make my own choice. My peace of soul hinges on it.
SR. ANGELUS: Lost, lost.
CYN: Well, not really, because either way it's pretty cool.
SR. ANGELUS, with deep satisfaction: At this rate you'll never know, will you? Heh.
CYN: Keep it up and you'll be seeing yourself on Komikwerks. *toys casually with stylus* They like you.
SR. ANGELUS: You haven't the energy, pneumoniac.
CYN: Try me. I'll make energy.
SR. ANGELUS: Make time for court, then, cloister offscouring! Spurned bride! Apostate! Hack!
CYN, happily: Eh, this DL failure ain't so bad. Maybe I'll read Crossing into Unchipped Country and Past Glory. And then maybe I'll do some roughs.
SR. ANGELUS: I'll be waiting.
CYN: I'm counting on it, dear Sister.
- Cyn (Fri 2004.04.30 at 11:08 pm EST)
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