State of the Sooky
Sep. 23rd, 2010 11:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltdWork: Was worky
Lawsuit settled. Will be paying off the bill. Very easy people to work with. Wisah I hadn't lost the first letter.
Biked 5 miles, in deference to bad knee.
Good scale day. Am at Lowest Ever: 259.4
Crocheted. Read. Watched "The Prisoner." Yes, the AMC one. Jamie Campbell Bower is SO pretty.
Writing: 3306 on Pain-pleasure. Got the line edits for Privateer's Treasure. Naomi is handling those.
Card of the Day: Temperance. Keep it in bvalance on this Equinox under a full moon.
Scent of the Day: Isaac, the Living Skeleton. Bourbon, tobacco, dry bone, bay rum aftershave, and sleazy cologne This one is nicely male, but doesn't last. Reminescent of Hellfire.
To your side, you hear a man’s deep whisper, “Slowly I turned… inch by inch… step by step….” A scream interrupts him, and a roar of laughter pulses through the shadowed hall. Following the commotion, you move to the next stage. A bone-thin man moves across the stage, and sits upon an overstuffed, threadbare armchair. A battered violin is propped against the chair’s side. The audience starts to dissipate, and you realize that you must have just missed his performance. Relaxing, he reclines lazily, and as the light falls on his face, you come to realize that he is truly skeletal: a thin membrane of skin covers most of his body, but in many places, bone is completely exposed. He winks at you, and chuckles at your obvious discomfiture. The sweet smoke from his cigar touches your senses, and you hear the soft clink of the ice as he swirls the bourbon in his tumbler.
“Late for the show, are ya, friend? I’ll tell you a quick one, and then you’d best skedaddle. I have better things to do than sit here and be gawked at all night.” He takes a swig from his tumbler.
“A man goes to a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist says, ‘I think you’re crazy.’ The man says, ‘I want a second opinion.’ The psychiatrist says, ‘Alright, you’re ugly, too.’”
His attention is diverted by a scantily clad woman in the audience beside you, and he leers at her. “Hello, nurse!” he growls, and leans towards her lecherously. “How’s about you come back to my dressing room, and I show you my stamp collection?”
.
Lawsuit settled. Will be paying off the bill. Very easy people to work with. Wisah I hadn't lost the first letter.
Biked 5 miles, in deference to bad knee.
Good scale day. Am at Lowest Ever: 259.4
Crocheted. Read. Watched "The Prisoner." Yes, the AMC one. Jamie Campbell Bower is SO pretty.
Writing: 3306 on Pain-pleasure. Got the line edits for Privateer's Treasure. Naomi is handling those.
Card of the Day: Temperance. Keep it in bvalance on this Equinox under a full moon.
Scent of the Day: Isaac, the Living Skeleton. Bourbon, tobacco, dry bone, bay rum aftershave, and sleazy cologne This one is nicely male, but doesn't last. Reminescent of Hellfire.
To your side, you hear a man’s deep whisper, “Slowly I turned… inch by inch… step by step….” A scream interrupts him, and a roar of laughter pulses through the shadowed hall. Following the commotion, you move to the next stage. A bone-thin man moves across the stage, and sits upon an overstuffed, threadbare armchair. A battered violin is propped against the chair’s side. The audience starts to dissipate, and you realize that you must have just missed his performance. Relaxing, he reclines lazily, and as the light falls on his face, you come to realize that he is truly skeletal: a thin membrane of skin covers most of his body, but in many places, bone is completely exposed. He winks at you, and chuckles at your obvious discomfiture. The sweet smoke from his cigar touches your senses, and you hear the soft clink of the ice as he swirls the bourbon in his tumbler.
“Late for the show, are ya, friend? I’ll tell you a quick one, and then you’d best skedaddle. I have better things to do than sit here and be gawked at all night.” He takes a swig from his tumbler.
“A man goes to a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist says, ‘I think you’re crazy.’ The man says, ‘I want a second opinion.’ The psychiatrist says, ‘Alright, you’re ugly, too.’”
His attention is diverted by a scantily clad woman in the audience beside you, and he leers at her. “Hello, nurse!” he growls, and leans towards her lecherously. “How’s about you come back to my dressing room, and I show you my stamp collection?”
.
