Dear Omega-verse:

I hate you. I hate everything about you. I hate your hand-wavy non-con. I hate your ridiculous power dynamics. I hate that you have infested seemingly every fandom. I hate that your authors don't feel the compunction to fucking WARN for rape. I hate that your authors don't seem to understand that a lot of what they're writing IS rape. (I say this with a YKINMKATOK attitude, honestly. Write what you want, enjoy writing it, but give people the chance to make an educated decision about whether or not they want to read it.) I hate that you, Omega-verse, seem to be the new accepted standard for power-exchange relationship fic, and yet, there isn't any power-exchange going on.

But I'm guessing, based on the sheer volume of fic I see, that it's probably just me.

No Love,
Sweet crunchy christ, just GO AWAY.

I am not your girlfriend.
I am not your mother.
I am not your BFF.
I am not your anything, except possibly professional acquaintance and not-terribly-close friend. I get that you would like to be closer. I would not.

I am not required to speak to you at all hours of the day, nor to hang on your every word. You should give up on the expectation that you will be the center of my focus at all times. I have made all the allowances for your issues that I am comfortable making, and have clearly stated my boundaries and the parameters of our friendship. If you can't deal with that, without giving me a constant view of your Butthurt over my enforcement of boundaries, then FUCK OFF.

AUGH. People frustrate the shit out of me.
Dear Reviewers of the World,

I know it's puzzling that three adults can have a romantic subplot without having crazy monkey sex every other page. I get that this is not the norm, and indeed, most books that feature a menage relationship are, in fact, erotica.

That doesn't mean that all of them are. Really. Honest. And you're doing readers a disservice by billing every book that features a non-monogamous relationship as erotica, as well as kind of screwing the book itself, because oddly enough, most people who buy a book because it's supposed to be erotica are expecting, you know, SEX SCENES.


Dear Fandom Claus,

I've been very good this year, and though I know I'm a little late with this letter, I'd like to post my wish list.

1. Fandom Claus, it would be super delightful if writers and artists would post their stuff with easily understood header information. I don't need a lot, Ms. Claus, just these handy little bits of information would do:

Title (You'd be surprised how often people seem to forget this.)
Pairing/Gen- They may have written the story, drawn the art, or, er, vidded the vid, but GOSH, people seem pretty confused by who they are pairing up (or not!) in their fanworks. Since I don't have the hours in the day I would need to look at every single fanwork that shows up to be posted for a newsletter, I would really appreciate it if you could swing it so that this could start showing up more often.
Summary- Fandom Claus can you convince people that a summary and a teaser are two different things? Pretty please? A summary tells you what the story is about. A teaser tries to entice people to read it with a line of clever dialogue or prose that makes people wish they had some idea what the story was about.
Rating- Fandom isn't the MPAA, Ms. Claus, and people aren't going to be fined for violating some arcane ratings system based on the idea that horrific, deplorable violence is okay, as long as people don’t say any naughty words. No need to be so US-centric, either. Any indication of rating is fine with me. Just a simple "teen" or "PG". People like to know if they are about to pull up hardcore pegging fic, or someone getting turned into a kitten, and since there's that whole summary/teaser misunderstanding, ratings kind of help with that. Some things, you don't want to read at Grandma's house, y'know? (For the record, Grandma is fine with the pegging fic, but she's allergic to cats, and kitten fic isn't welcome in her home.)

2. Can you leave me the rest of my bands, Fandom Claus?

3. I don't really want a pony. But I would like people to stop and think about their words before they post something demanding at community and newsletter mods. Yup, it's part of their job to take care of stuff, and clean up links, and correct oversights. Most times they don't mind hearing about things that need fixing, and will even thank you for the nudge. But Fandom Claus, they are all volunteers, and as I'm sure you are aware, fandom gets nice things because fans put in lots of time and effort making them nice. They don't just happen that way, they are collected and cultivated, and posted in a shiny grab bag of lovely links, often requiring a lot of extra poking, because people don't believe in using headers. Mistakes happen, but generally a simple, "Hey, you seem to have missed my story. Here is is." will suffice, instead of a nasty, passive-aggressive comment about how something should have been done. Fandom is not entitled to news communities and newsletters. They are a gift of time and effort, frequently frustrating to corral and code, and it would be nice if, when people are demanding their pony, they could remember that someone has to find the pony, groom the pony, saddle the pony, and then convince it to work with the god damn dog.

That's all, Fandom Claus. I left you some fic and cookies on the mantle.



(In other news: Get off my lawn!)
Oh look, it's "poke fun (HAHAHAHA) at fandom" night on Supernatural!


Yay! (Cut for light spoilers.) )
Dear Supernatural Fandom,

Per my pending restraining order (after I Internet Sue you, of course), please remain at least 150 yards from me at ALL TIMES.

I am loading my shotgun with rock salt right now, and it isn't for ghosts.

To put it in a way that certain members of the fandom can more easily understand? Applesauce robin noodleboy, with flanky hoodie crumbles. /BATSHIT INSANE

Love and epic man pain,
I really hope, as someone else mentioned, that Amazon bought some kind of third party software to handle some new search implementation, and this is a result of them turning it on without testing it properly or something. (Don't they have QA for that? Apparently not.)

On the other hand, it's the internet, and the internet is good for nothing if not getting your panties in a wad, so if you really want to, you can read the snippy letter I sent them, outlining how much I spend with them every month, and how much I WON'T be spending with them every month until this is cleared up and apologized for.

Dear Amazon, )

I certainly hope that it's a matter of poor implementation, rather than outright fuckmuppetry.
Dear Hipster Scum*,

Rufus Wainwright did not write "Hallelujah". Leonard fucking Cohen wrote "Hallelujah". He did not  cover it for the "Watchmen" soundtrack.  

/implied douchebag

Absolutely no love whatsoever,


*- I say hipster scum with love, honest.  I even like Rufus Wainwright, but...ow.

Dear Google Calendar,

I ♥ you. You and your multiple colours, and your tags, and your event information, and your syncing with my iPhone, and your ability to invite anyone to anything, and your multiple layers of glorious organization.

You're beautiful, baby. *smooches*

Hearts in my eyes,

Dear Outlook,

Blow me.

Sincerely Yours,
Dear Russell Stover Chocolate Marshmallow Egg,

BABY. Where have you BEEN all my life?



Thank you.

Dec. 20th, 2008 10:27 am
Dear Brain,

I take back most of what I said about you recently. The Frank Iero Sex Dream project that you seem to have embarked upon lately is clearly a masterpiece. Keep up the good work!

Thank you.

Dec. 6th, 2008 11:55 pm
Dear Today,

Thank you for the following:

-Erudite political and social discussion with my amazing wife
-An easy drive from Springfield to Richmond
-Fucking amazing coffee, courtesy of my own barista skills and the new espresso machine that can practically deliver a child by itself.
-The internet- enabling me to spend fat stacks of cash on new base yarns, even when I'm not at home!
-MORE awesome coffee, though this time it cost a lot more.
-Someone else paying for my coffee.
-The best Mexican food I've had in about forever- if you're in Richmond/Short Pump, VA (stop laughing, you dirty, dirty bastards!) hit Cantina Guadalajara. SO FUCKING GOOD.
-A wife who is still willing to sit next to me, even after coffee and Mexican food.
-Not to mention peanut butter fudge and Cracker Barrel.
-The waitress in Cracker Barrel, who gave the guys sitting behind us free jelly and a biscuit to take home to their son.
-A certain leaked copy of a certain new album by a certain band that I love. That I will certainly be listening to in the car tomorrow. And I will certainly enjoy, until my freaking awesome pre-order package arrives.
-Knitting. ♥
-Yarn. ♥
-Feeling more and more at peace with the changes I know are coming to me, and actually hopeful about how it will all turn out.

Today is good. Hooray for today!
Cheapskate Restaurant
Dude Who Doesn't Pay and Has Screaming Hissy Fits at Me When I Tell Him He Can't Order Anymore

Dear Dude,

Thank you for your previous meager payments. We have applied all $0.50 worth of them to your severely delinquent account. Attached is an updated statement highlighted in bright fucking red that reflects your current astronomical account balance.

We understand that you are a wussy little primadonna everyone is facing financial difficulties at the moment even though you still seem to have a packed house every night, and we truly no, really, honest appreciate being able to send you these stupid letters every month your continued diligence Ahahahahahahahahahahaha in paying off this balance so that I can actually get paid, and possibly put my hypothetical grandchildren through college by living off the interest.

Fuck youSincerely,

Reesa H
The Belly-Up Cow
an_sceal: (Books)
Dear Ginn Hale,

PLEASE write some more now. One novel, one novella, and a short story are not slaking my thirst for your words.


Dear Cobra Starship,

Please, always rock as hard as you did tonight. You were amazing, and I had a blast. Hello, I -danced-. Like, not just moving back and forth from foot to foot.

You are SO my Guilty Pleasure.



P.S.- When VickyT gets that burlesque show together, count me IN. She is adorable.

Dear Cobra Fans,

OMG, please get a little older, okay? Because you are making me feel ANCIENT.

Isn't It Past Your Bedtime?,

Dear Bartender,

I know you laughed at me when I ordered my rum and coke and requested "heavy on the coke", but honest, I really meant it. Plus, holy fuck, could you peel wallpaper with that shit?

Next time, really, truly, big glass of coke, little bit of rum. Although I'm pretty sure I can give you most of the credit for me dancing, no matter HOW adorkable Gabe was when making "popopop" sounds with a cool Latin beat behind him.

Soberly Yours,
Dear January,

You are fucking FIRED.

You are NOT welcome to herald the rest of the year, either.

Wearing my bitchface,
an_sceal: (Ha fucking ha)
Memo to my left ear:

CLEAR UP ALREADY. I know I am smiting you with the Cipro of Doom, and I have to be patient, but I cannot HEAR. Also, you hurt, and you make the entire left side of my face hurt.

I am not pleased.


Memo to self:

There are a thousand pithy things I could try to impress upon myself here, but it boils down to this:

Get your shit together, girl.


Memo to life:

Stop biting people I love in the ass.
Dearest Guillaume,

As I have eaten nothing this morning but a banana, a handful of pretzels, and a mug of green tea, you have NO reason to be acting this way. I resent your attempts to manipulate me into vomiting, and I find your behaviour of late deplorable. The least you could do is behave yourself until we are no longer forced to share living space.

You sir, are fired.

No Love,

(Gall, Gaul, French...yeah...)
Dear Mr. Helpful,

It was a simple question, hardly worthy of your sarcastic and fairly nasty reply. But then, you're just full of those, aren't you?

You're one of those people that makes me glad I'm not an active player in this Barony at the moment.

No Love,


Aug. 24th, 2006 08:24 am
Dear Brain,

Yes, I know. I know! I'm sorry! I had forgotten what a particularly wretched time 5:55 is. I swear, I will only assault you with it for one more day. But hey, we get to leave work at 4. Doesn't that sounds good?

Please let me know when you are ready to function.

The Body

Dear Fresh, Ripe Watermelon,

I luff you. And you hydrate me! You rock.


Dear OK Go,

It starts off simple... Right. Never mind that. At this point, I am a little bit desperately in love with you and your music. And your ability to choreograph treadmills is -amazing-.

Your New Fan

Dear Friends at WorldCon,

Have fun! I miss you guys this year!

Reesa the Absent

December 2015



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