Mar. 14th, 2017 07:27 pm
roxy: (trex darn)
I don't think pinterest understands what I mean by "semi-incestuous demon hunting brothers." Castiel really has nothing to do with it. And especially pix of Cas and Dean frolicking. But that is the way the ball bounces outside of my own little neck of the woods, I guess. As for me, I'll be over here in the corner, quietly knitting some home-made wincest.
roxy: (WTF)
Today was crazy-ass crazy day at the old Red Bulls-eye Satan fitting room. I had a complaint lodged against me, for no reason that I can see. I had so many people look at me like I'd arbitrarily decided to make their day more difficult. Children took time today to practice being little bitches on a safe adult, adults practiced being assholes on someone they mistakenly think is required to take their bullshit. Okay, so I can't lean close and say, "You are a fucking pain in my ass and I'm thinking a bigot." No, I have to let my eyes say that. A half-smile and a slight roll of the eyeballs says plenty. Or coming to a complete stop, smiling wide and saying,"Suuuuure." to their stupid little requests.

I'm astounded all over again at how many people have claustrophobia. Here's a tip, asshole--if you tell me in a conversational tone of voice that you are suffering from this problem, if you try to, y'know, not *shout* it at me, or stamp your little feet, or give me a look full of challenge, I will show you to a large fitting room without question. If you ae obviously struggling--broken bones, back pain, pregnant, you are automatically getting the big room. But here's what you can't have, no matter how much you glare at me in hatred--you cannot go into the wheelchair accessible room because your ass doesn't need it.

th__000godzilla by gifmaster500

I said NO

WTFuck? Why do people want that damn room? What the hell? The door opens outwards, that's *it*. That's the only difference between the family fitting rooms and the wheelchair accessible ones--that and maybe a foot more of space. *smh*

I'm leaving them in June. I intend to dedicate the rest of my life to painting tiny watercolors of kittens and flowers. Maybe I'll join one of those senior art classes, make little ceramic penis vases, maybe little ring dishes shaped like vaginas. I'm looking forward to it.
roxy: (sun)
Behind this cut are ranting and extreme displeasure. please don't read this if you loved that ep )

Oy, aging

Feb. 20th, 2016 08:09 pm
roxy: (faceoevol)
I was going to post about how while it's nice that everyone is happy about s11, it kind of irritates me too, but I read that post and decided to delete it because I already complained about stuff in my last post and I thought, "roxy, do you want to gain a reputation as a crabby old bitch who only posts to complain about shit?" and I thought, again to myself, probably not. I would rather be known as the happy, carefree spirit that I that laughing? Am I hearing laughing?

(busting out an old school icon for this--younger days, lol!)
roxy: (dean wave)
So it was my turn to get flamed at AO3, I guess. I don't want to make my stories only available to people with accounts, so you have to take the bad with the good, I guess. Granted, it's an old story and a bit over the top, but a piece of garbage? I'm not the best writer but I'm sure as hell not the worst. I've written some awkward stuff, but I've never, ever written a piece of garbage.

I got:that was disturbing and didn't make any sense at all. Hopefully your writing is better now, because this is not good at all, not only in regard of the content and charactarization, but the whole story and setting is an unlogical mess. Now I have to take a bath in holy-water clensing myself and washing away all that filth from this piece of garbage.

Thanks Pandora!

My opinion? Folks get bored and decide to go be assholes at sites like this. They know that comments like this can be hurtful and I think they do this hoping that they hurt someone, make them doubt themselves. They're probably pretending to be decent folks in public. Sites like this let them be the terrible people they really are.
roxy: (dean with gun)
I got lost last night and missed Show. I didn't work on my BB, I didn't do anything. I slept a lot. It was pretty good sleep. and I had a good reason for it.

Folks, let me share with you my traumatic work day--which led to hugs and pats and cuddling for mental support which morphed into 'race you up the stairs'--oh, let me not lie, power-walk--I'm not racing anyone up any stairs, out of shape as I am....

So, my day at work? Just, omg, filled with people who had a tenuous grasp on hygiene, and where the appropriate places to urinate were--hint, not the fitting rooms. I had to boil my hands and apply outrageous amounts of sanitizer before I was able to overcome my attack of the vapours.

I was cleaning out a fitting room and cursing the lazy-ass lazy bitch who left hangers and stuff all over the floor instead of bringing them out when I grabbed one that was wet. And the liquid on the white hanger was yellow. And the only reason I didn't scream the house down was that my throat locked up.

My bare hands, my friends. My bare hands on this...thing. Stuff.

Beloveds, Yer Mother might have some slight issues with strangers. And touch. Probably not more so than the average person but maybe scooching over into OHMYGAWD territory, just a bit. So that was rather paralyzingly horrifying. I just went blank for a second--like, my fingers would not open to release this thing.

I'm just a simple, country fitting room attendant, I don't expect to have to deal with anything like this, lord have mercy. All I want to do is make sure no one's stealing stuff, that's all.

I should start wearing gloves all the time...or maybe change the fitting room spiel. "May I count your items, thank you, please return what you don't care for to the desk--oh and by the way, please don't pee in the room..."


Mar. 23rd, 2015 06:43 pm
roxy: (dean sigil)
This is the response I got to Paris, an old Clex story of mine:

Sicko writer. Yuk. :(

This was my response to that comment:

Drugged Sex
Dubious Consent
Alternate Universe
Familial Abuse

Did none of those tags give you any warning of what the subject matter would be? At any rate, thank you for your articulate and concise review of the story.

Normally I don't engage these folks, but that just made me crack up--I'm reading my mail and I burst into laughter when I read that. And then, I got a little bitchy as you can see.

The story isn't the best, I'd be the first to admit it. Plus, it was written back in the day, when you could write stuff that seemed terribly naughty but is really pretty tame by today's standards. I didn't reread the fic--I don't think I could, I mean, it's really, really early fic! As the commenter put it, "yuck." No, pardon me--"Yuk."

If I'd posted it with the manip that inspired the story, I probably would have been able to save this poor person's eyes. :)

like to see it? here it is! )
roxy: (impala fall lights)
Hey there! Long time no see! I wandered off into the woods to be an incredible asshole bitch/chew my leg off/crawl under a bush and hack up a hairball kind of thing, but I'm feeling a little better now. Slightly nicer, anyway.

I have lovely, lovely comments to respond to--thank you, guys, for the nice words about the artwork! [ profile] tabaqui, sending you the drawing soon and also, working on a few more! I *LOVED* working on that drawing, and I'm so so glad you like it! :D

Man, guys, ya'll know how much it sucks when you're not feeling hundred per cent. Plus, tiny health issues that instead of being worrying are pissing me the fuck off and making me crabby. I don't know--weird.

I've been reading tons but not saying much, pretty much par for the course, but you guys, I'm thinking of you, and hoping the best for you, hoping that you weather life changes and the bumps and upheavals that life tends to be. I don't say much but I care. ♥

And speaking of caring, you all make me cry, but this time tears of happy. I've gotten so much wonderful stuff--the World's Most Perfect Socks, and the most beautiful blouses in the world--they make me look like a lady instead of the grumpy, squinty-eyed lumberjack I usually look like, and the Cup of All Good Things. I'll be posting pics of these things (even though you've seen the socks, they're worth looking at again) *PLUS* pictures of my pet tree. I love my tree. SO MUCH.

Okay, this post is done. Everyone gather in for the big group hug. I'll be licking some of you, but that's the price you have to pay, being my friend and all. It's okay, I have wipes....
roxy: (dean roxy-style)
Trying to do that five things I like about me is giving me writer's block, damn it.

eta: got it! five things where I'm good and stuff

1. I love to laugh and I love making other people laugh.

2.I can be a nice person--really nice when the spirit moves me.

3. I'm a good mom--that was surprising to me, since I never liked kids but it is true, thank god, it's different when it's your own. She was a fascinating little person from day one, so she made it kind of easy to be a good mom.

4. I love creativity, in other people and in me. :D It's a wonderful thing, this ability to make people feel something, whether it's by drawing or writing or sewing or singing or gardening or any number of wonderful ways.

5. I'm a strong person--and I can fake it when I need to. ;D

I'm not tagging anyone, feel free to do it. But make sure to let me know if you have any naughty things you like about you.
roxy: (dean excuse me)
You know how you come across a recipe for something you've eaten ever since you were a wee thing? Some dish that when you eat it nowadays, you're suddenly thrown way back when? So you're reading this--this *recipe* and you're all "WHA? THE ACTUAL HELL? What the *hell* is that a recipe for because it sure is not the dish we ate!" You know what I really hate? When folks do stuff like, I don't know--throw black-eye peas in a silver dish. Or healthy up those old time recipes and swear up and down it will taste just as good--even better. No hell no. Where's the fat? Where's the damn salt? Where's the damn TASTE????

I need to keep away from that damn Pinterst. But the SpN pins call me like sirens.

I'm really crabby right now because all we have is granola bars in the house. Some of us seem to think that's an actual exchange for cookies. But some of us are cute but insane. I really want a red velvet muffin right now.

See? This is me kind of writing.


Mar. 21st, 2014 07:22 pm
roxy: (dean with gun)
Today, I'm going to write, damn it, come hell or high water. And by write, I mean add to my stories. And I think I will post the one as a WIP. Hopefully it will motivate me. Or kill me as I try and type through my tears.

Greetings new friends! Welcome to the Rose fireside. Cookie? Porn?

under the cut because of crabbiness )
roxy: (dean wave)
I'm sure you heard about the scandal involving my employer, that whole thing revolving around theft of information and whatnot. Of course, being the deeply caring place it is, we were sent a script to give customers who called in a panic. Not real information, mind you--a script, which I attempted to render sensible in my position as fitting room attendant and stand by phone answerer when the real operators are, I don't know, smoking, taking a shit. In other words, I knew about as much as the average aloe plant. This I did all day yesterday, apologizing, trying to smooth over folks fears--you know, doing what the Corp wanted.

Imagine my surprise when a customer called this afternoon, apparently specifically to call *me* personally out as a liar because I gave her information that *yesterday* was good as far as I knew but of course this story unfolds in bits and pieces as time goes on--things change. Anyhoo, it was revealed to me that I am a lying liar who lies, maliciously and with intent to pull the wool over the eyes of hapless individuals of fine moral character. I tried to explain but she cut me off and invited me to go to hell, three different times, with escalating volume and inventive departures. I laughed, thanked her and wished her a good day and she hung up on me. I bet she misses the days when you could slam a phone down with vigor and make a person go deaf. I know I do....

People, folks, friends...our phone has called ID. Redial. You know...your mother was sorely tempted. but she's grown-folks so she let that bitch go. It wouldn't have been worth my job though there would have been some deep satisfaction, I'm sayin'.

What have we learned from this, dear my friends? That the internet wasn't the creator of anonymous asshattery. That being unseen on the phone will make you act like a motherfucking, moronic, loser asshole. I get that folks were scared and rightly so, but what the fuck is your local store going to do? Not much. Still, I was damn proud of myself for saying "Thank you," to this bitch instead of "fuck you." Personal growth, my friends. :)
roxy: (unstoppable rex)
Or do I mean heart…?

It's a weird life, children, this life of retail slavery. People really seem to expect some kind of cross between Stepin Fetchet and Shirley Temple--the old folks know what I'm talking about, the rest of ya'll google it. And then there are the folks who think you're a sales clerk/therapist. OMG, they're not paying me to listen to your life woes! They're barely paying me enough to pick up after your ass! And yet, there are people who you let drone on and on because you know that you're the friendliest, closest human interaction they've had all week. Maybe longer. I know, sometimes I'm a sucker. There's a way to do that and maintain some distance though, also a good thing. I'm just your fitting room friend, don't get it twisted.

There's fun to be had, like the fun of dealing with the herd mentality of young girls, who act like you've severed them at the hips when you force them into separate fitting rooms...there's dealing with young boys, who think every older woman is their mother and will clean up after them, there's dealing with grown men who think every older woman is their mother and will clean up after them, there's dealing with old guys who think every older woman is their mother and will clean up after them...dealing with people who think my name tag reads "Kizzy" instead of "Roxy", which it doesn't, I'm just pretending like ya'll don't know my real boring name.

All of that, just to share this wityall!
Ten Things You Learn At A Retail Job

Some of these things, I am really bad at. Like #3. They generally don't argue with me, and cashiers used to always call me for price checks. I have this look, I guess. And #9...I've had folks try and scream at me because we don't have the thing they want. Nuts, right? I ain't got time for that. And #10--HAH! They gave up trying to call me in yeeeeeaars ago.
roxy: (dean sigil)
You really need those summaries at AO3, because those stupid, fucking, smirky, *endless* tags tell you nothing.

Love Hurts

Oct. 19th, 2012 11:26 pm
roxy: (grumpy bear)
I have to go to a wedding this weekend. In Connecticut. With total STRANGERS. All the way in Connecticut. With STRANGERS, did I mention? I *HATE* weddings. I hate them so much I could barely stand my own. Weddings are boring. I'm thrilled to death that two people have found true love, at least until they wake up one morning and realize that this thing the other does that's fucking annoying, they're never going to stop doing it. I just think that one's wedding should be a personal, private, family thing. Not involving me at all.

Say, that part in Show ep 8X02, where Dean's talking to Cas? Where he says, "If Leviathan want to take a shot at us, let 'em. We ganked them bitches once before we can do it again." or words to that effect, I might have been drooling overloud...I think I played that bit about a billionity times. Hot like the sun.
roxy: (dean hell icon)
In ten more days, I'm going to be 58 years old. Two years away from 60. It's weird, because my head doesn't feel much different than it did when I was 28. I'm still more or less liberal, I still feel the same about issues that fired me up back then and sadly, those issues haven't had any resolution since those days, except BLACK PRESIDENT. That startled the living hell out of me. That and the fact he's still alive. Racism is alive and well and growing and even gaining respectability but I expected that as soon as Mr. Obama was sworn in.

This getting old biz, I really didn't want to turn into a conservative old fart. But I worry sometimes when enough is enough. I've changed the way I dress, because you have to after a while. I've turned the radio down a bit in the car, lifted the bass a bit, listen to more oldies than I used to--the 90s and the 20s, when music was decent and Young Weezy really was, young that is.

Why am I rambling on in this transparent attempt to garner b-day presents about getting old? Mostly it's to warn you that I don't plan to stop writing incestuous underage dub-con porn. Is that creepy? Well even if it is, too bad, I say! I had to give up my Tims and Chucks and Batman t-shirts, I can't wear my LuthorCorp shirt without looking like a silver-haired tool...I'm a little bitter. I don't plan to stop being nasty on top of that. So there! And in conclusion, nah-nana-boo-boo.
roxy: (dark toystory2)
Fandom shift time again. I see folks are slowly strolling away to the Brand New Thing. Sadly, once again, I'm not very much into the new thing, new thing being the Avengers. The only pairing I'm interested in there is Phil/Steve, and I don't even like Steve. *sigh* Oh well, say lavee. Kay Sarah Sarah.

Also, Dear SpN fandom, more Sam and Dean, a wee smidge less J2, more thinky future fic and a tad less BDSM porn. In conclusion, all you damn kids, get the hell off my lawn.*throws cats*

August 2017

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