bubosquared | "She went willingly, but not gladly, and when he attempted to kiss her, she turned from his lips."

Before I leave, quotes:

Chad: Pity me. Not only do I have to put up with an idiot Bush as my President, I have to put up with another idiot Bush as my Governor. Now all I need is for a Bush to be hired as my boss at work and life will be complete...

Silvia: If I was compiling a list of Phrases Silvia Kundera Never Expected To Come Across In Fanfiction, EVER...
This would have to be #1.
He exhaled sharply as Clark's secondary penis released its hold on his forearm

Neil Gaiman: I think you get better as a writer by writing, and whether that means that you're writing a singularly deep and moving novel about the pain or pleasure of modern existence or you're writing Smeagol-Gollum slash you're still putting one damn word after another and learning as a writer.

Gin: I'm working on this original slash, and while re-reading (I know. I just started to do that. um. sometimes.) this paragraph, I thought to myself: "Why did I use the word 'tempting' twice in the same sentence? Oh. Right. I smoke too much pot. And I'm stupid!"

Lucy: The Simpson family gets a bad rap. It's not like they're related to OJ, or anything!

mcee: [My cat] gets pretty with age. Kinda like a really hairy Robert Redford, but less gay.

Jess: I thought it was just one of those good days but then I remembered that sleep deprivation tends to make me overly giddy, also my body doesn't know that it's sick, so all is well, even if it's not reality.

Matt: Drinking to cure depression is an extremely bad idea. Normally I'd figure this is self-evident, but on the other hand we've also convinced several hundred people that it's a great idea to throw hard rubber balls at each other's faces.

Melle: Harry couldn't be cool if he was standing on the North Pole NAKED!

Jeff Vogel: After our daughter was fed, she still wanted to suck on things. Constantly. Her blanket. Her lower lip. She would latch onto the side of my hand while I was changing her. Experimentation revealed that she would attempt to gain sustenance from the back of a spoon or the tip of the TV remote. (I washed the end of the remote in soap and water first. I'm not a monster.) I tried to see if I could get her to suck on the wall, but the angle wasn't right.

Jeff Vogel: Maybe I'm the jerk. Maybethey do sell pacifiers for adults, and I just don't know about it. And, if this is the case, I want one NOW.

Jeff Vogel: I want to get a tape recorder and tape one of [my daughter's] loud, fussy screaming jags. Then I'll save the tape until she's fifteen. Then, late one night, I'll sneak into her room, play the tape at full volume, blast her ass out of bed, and scream, "How do YOU like it?"
I can't be the only person who has thought of this.

Jeff Vogel: I can't escape my overachieving yuppie suck-weasel nature. You know how, if you put a dollar in the bank and let interest on it compound, eventually (in a thousand years or so) it will be a massive fortune? I can't help but feel that, if I do or say the right clever thing now, early in my daughter's life, it will compound and increase, like a snowball rolling downhill, into brilliance later on. Or, conversely, if I don't do enough during those precious moments of quiet alertness, instead doing something I want to do, like sleep or eat cheese, I will have, through my horrible inaction, cost my daughter a whole IQ point. Do this enough times, and she'll wind up a slack-jawed, burger-flipping, sorority-pledging, bottle-blonde troglodyte who can use the word "Booger" without irony. And then I will have to reabsorb her for her protein.

Jeff Vogel: So, when she is feeling talkative, I converse with her by repeating every sound she makes back to her. It really encourages her... we can go on like that for an hour at a time.
"Ooo."
"Oooo."
"Oooo. Ohh."
"Oooooo. Ohh."
("God, I feel like a jerk.") "Aaaaahhhoi!"
"Aaaahhhoooii!"
"Aaahh."
"Aaaahhh."
("But I suppose, if I didn't want to spend all my time looking like a complete idiot, I wouldn't have had kids.")
"Uhh. Ooooh. Aoooah. Oi."
"Oooh. Aooooahh. Oi."
"Oi. Oi."
"Oi. Oi."
("Oi? What is she? A British soccer hooligan?")

Jeff Vogel: This does, however, give me an idea for my own book. I'll call it "Secrets of the Baby Mutterer: Decoding Your Babies Utterances So That You Can Understand It Perfectly and Realize How Smart the Little Sprog Is." It will be full of shit I make up, which will put it on the intellectual level of most parenting books.
A sample of translations:
[...]
"Ahhh. Ah. Ahhhhh." - "I have absolutely no moral sense. If I was bigger and stronger, I would have no qualms about cracking your skull open to see if there's candy inside."
"Oi. Oi." - "I want to be a British soccer hooligan."

Jeff Vogel: Final developmental alert. She's about to gain the ability to hold objects. I tried pressing a rattle against her fingertips. She got a really good, firm grip!
Then she smacked herself in the face with it.
Is three months too early to get a baby therapy?

Jeff Vogel: I have three [baby] pictures that I showed. One of them was of Cordelia lying on a broiling pan, smiling obliviously, surrounded by bunches of fresh herbs. Best baby picture, ever.

Jeff Vogel: This is why parenting books give me the dry gripes. Anyone seriously telling me I shouldn't be making my infant smell bleach makes me want to do it, just to be contrary. Out of curiosity, I checked and found that the section on Touch did not include the warning:
"While soft things like felt and bits of fur are all right, do not let her touch rougher, harsher substances. Do not let your baby play with rusty nails or shards of broken glass. Do not place your baby on a bandsaw."
And, frighteningly, the section on Sight did not say:
"Do not point baby directly at sun."

Jeff Vogel: Cordelia really likes to be picked up and slung around. I put my hands firmly around her ribcage, under her arms, hoist her up, and bounce her around. She loves it. I lift her up and balance her on my head, making her a "Baby Hat".

Jeff Vogel: Finally, my life insurance has happened. My death is now worth two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to my loved ones. The agent patiently explained, in so many words, that such a piddly amount would be seen as my survivors as proof that I didn't love them very much. So, to any survivors who are angry at me for this reason, I send you this message from beyond the grave: bite my ass.

Jeff Vogel: I've been very apathetic about buying new toys for Cordelia. We got a few from friends. A few at the baby shower. And I just kept handing the same toys to her, and handing them to her, again and again, until even her tiny, undeveloped brain was going "Yes! Ok! It's a yellow giraffe rattle! I GET IT! Cram it with walnuts, OLD MAN!"

Jeff Vogel: My web browser was dissed by Barbie.

Jeff Vogel: 11 AM-noon: Go home and watch live TV coverage of Dick Cheney coming out of his hole. If he sees his shadow, we have three more months of Constitutional violations and fear-mongering.

Date: 2003-02-06 10:29 am (UTC)

From:

safti

no subject

I do.

stubbleglitter has yet to use one since I've been reading her journal that was not a quote from the Simpsons. I'm not sure which of us is lamer, her for using them, or me for knowing she's using them.