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Of Winged Lightbulbs and Fantail Quetzacoatli

close your eyes. open the third you hide. reality will find you.

JUSTVERYDIFFERENT

third eye

Mel Anderson, socio-cultural terrorist extraordinaire. Affiliates with both lizards and darkness. Approach with caution.

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September 20th, 2007

Booty

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v of spades
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

That be all, me salty sea-dogs.

September 11th, 2007

Dubious Circumstances

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V boom!
It seems like merely a week or less ago when I posted an exciting special Terrorism Day post, complete with a sexy new V For Vendetta theme and a cute little image of Osama Bin Laden Airways I found on the internet. But alas, that was actually a year ago! So here we are again, September the Eleventh, 2007, all the sadder because, really, the only difference between this Terrorism Day and the last is that the year has changed by one.

I wasn't always a political person. In fact, the Queen of Lizards was quite the Body Shop hippie, wanting to save the whales and trees so she could hug them later on, oblivious to the fact that their decline underlined some sinister flaw in how the world around her worked. But alas (I seem to like that word today), those two towers crumbled and smouldered to the ground, and the events ensuing made the Lizard Queen go all dark and spikey.

One can go- "Gah Mel! Still on about that crazy War on Terror stuff?! Go and find yourself something else to rant about!" Well, I guess I could, and I'd be rather inclined to do so if the same problems we've had for the past SIX YEARS weren't STILL HERE. Afghanistan is still a sorry little impoverished country in the Middle East, and the Taliban are still running about there. Osama Bin Laden, some old crazy fanatic huddled away in a dingy cave, and mastermind of 9-11, is still at large. Free speech and similar human rights are constantly deteriorating as this ridiculous War on Terror continues, bounding across the world like some drunken oversized groodle. Long story short, I can't bring myself to ignore the incredible pile of injustice that's been going down during a war that technically can't be won- terrorism, 9-11 insinuations aside, is actually a war tactic, meaning, by pure logic alone, you just can't defeat it by WARRING on the damned thing.

The APEC Summit last weekend highlighted a lot of things for me, which I'll get around to posting about after (hopefully) seeing the highly anticipated footage of the Chaser's breach of 160 million dollar's worth of multilayered security systems. But for now, enjoy the rest of your Terrorism Day, and just, I dunno, ponder a little. And enjoy the little image I have left for you below.

You've probably all seen this image before. However, it's a pretty startling reminder that this chimpanzee of an individual, a functional illiterate who can't even hold a book the RIGHT WAY ROUND, managed to change the world with his lack of brilliance.



Now, let us imagine that there is an incredible mass of individuals out there who actually can hold a book the right way round, who can pronounce their words correctly, and have some detectable semblance of both a vocabulary and a perspicacity about them, who could, with the sheer might of their intellects alone, take this lowly individual out.

Surprise! This mass of individuals exists! We are this mass, and we need to make it very clear that we are not happy with the world's current modus operandi.

En garde!

Mel, Queen of Darkness and Lizards
@_@

September 4th, 2007

That Sinking Feeling...

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rorschach
Is it just me, or is there something so fundamentally wrong about the security measures the Coalition has taken in regards to the impending APEC Summit? Nevermind the five-kilometre fences, the screwy bus timetables and the police scuttling everywhere, I'm talking about the new "You're-Allowed-To-Shoot-Civilians" laws our loveable Prime Minister has put into place.

I was considering getting my angry lefty on, and protesting at the Summit, but quite frankly I don't trust the Howard government enough to put myself in a position where I am unarmed and unarmoured, and where they can quite legally gun me down just because I looked at some pantsy world leader funnily. And with bullets, not just water cannons. Presently I'm a useless unemployed university student, but egad, I'd be a fuckload lot more useless (and more permanently unemployed) if I managed to get myself into bullet-riddled corpse form.

There is something so very frightening, and... undemocratic, about that last paragraph. Maybe I'm getting carried away with my distrust and detestation of the Coalition government, but I really cannot help but think that we are finally witnessing what many have been predicting about this ridiculous War on Terror: the erratic convulsions of Free Speech's death rattle.

Fuck I hate politics.

Mel, Queen of Darkness and Lizards
x_x

August 28th, 2007

I've decided that I'm going to post up here more often. I miss LiveJournal, especially because it is so much better than Facebook.

Anyway, as the title suggests, I made a Somewhat Frightening Discovery today. I was idling some time away in front of Wikipedia, that wonderful fountain of knowledge, and eventually my morbid curiosity led me to the article on Hillsong.

When one finds a rotten smell in the house, one doesn't ignore it. No! One searches all the rooms until one finds the source of the odour.

So, from there I clicked on Wikipedia's list of albums produced by Hillsong, and this is where I found the neck-prickling discovery. I actually recognized a great deal of the names there. I could actually connect the names with tunes in my head- tunes that had been fisted into my brain by St. Catherine's assembly singalongs.

My highschool exposed me to Hillsong music. Gasp!

TERRIFYING?! I think so.

A fortunate twist of the fates that I turned out as sacriligeous as I am? Ditto!

Anyway, that's all the entertainment I feel like providing for tonight.
Sayounara and fare thee well!
S&Mel, Queen of Dark Lizards and Lizardy Darkness
^_^

August 17th, 2007

Back to Poverty

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nny no i don't think so
Well, my application for the Coles checkout assistant position has been, as they say, unsuccessful.

Looks like it's back to the drawing board, and continuing poverty, for me.

Woot.

Mel, Queen of Darkness and Lizards
=_=

July 8th, 2007

Needles: 2, Mel: 0

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petrified
Now usually I'm not so partial to broadcasting my failings and defeats, however, when there's an amusing anecdote attached... I cannot help but divulge lol.

People who read this particular LJ regularly will have surely encountered me mentioning something about a phobia or uneasiness when it comes to needles, for any other medical equipment that's about to be used on me, and the accompanying phobia of my own blood. I'm fine when I'm holding the needle or scalpel or whatever myself, with the pointy end not poking into the intimate place that your very own blood vessels and sinews are. I'm also quite nonchalant about watching other people bleed, be they on a television/computer screen or within the physical world. I can even pick at a scab or bust a zit or something, and feel no ill from the blood that dribbles out from that. I did it, so it's okay. But the moment the needles starts pointing in my direction, or things get spectacularly bloody... well, let me recount to you all the tale of last Tuesday.

Last Tuesday, at about midday, I finally rounded up the courage to go ahead and get my blood test done. We (my gynaecologist and I) are searching for what the fresh hell the hormonal abnormalities I have actually are, so that's what the test was for (in case you were wondering). So I rocked up, clad in my bad ass black leather jacket, and hand over the referral the gyno gave me. Prolactins, insulin level, FSH levels, lipids, blood sugars... the extensive list of things she wants tested is somewhat perturbing- as if means there will be a substantial amount of blood coming out of me today. And not in that curious monthly kind of way. The woman at the desk takes one look at me, and reckons that the leather equates to "this is going to be easy". I was hoping to tough the bloodtest out this time, but as I was shepherded into the creepy little clinic room, I could feel the pulse pick up speed. I warn the lady, with an almost zen-like exterior, that I "have issues" with needles and blood. She's a bit dismissive, but takes a mental note of it.

After a bit of pussyfooting around, the needle lady realizes that being talkative and twitching is Mel's way of trying to sidestep the fact that she needs to have blood taken out of her. So I'm told rather abruptly to put my arm on the pillow, to get it all over and done with. My body doesn't really comply. Needle lady orders a crony to come in to talk to me and divert my attention, but he seems to be more interested in finding out what happens when he doesn't divert said attention. Needle goes in, and without fail Mel goes white. Like, Reflex white. All of the sudden I'm coated in a cold sheath of sweat, with my ears ringing and my vision naught but pink and red static. The telltale signs that your consciousness is about to slip away and run for the hills. Fortunately, I'm somewhat familiar with the sensation of being at the brink of fainting, so I sort of know how to hang in there. That said, by the time the needle comes out, I'm mere seconds away from crossing that rickety threshold.

I'm given a glass of water, and a lie down for about five minutes. With that ordeal over, I'm pretty sweet. Or so I think. I get up, and notice the six or seven red vials scattered haphazardly amongst all the paperwork on the desk nearby. Deep down I know they're mine, but I shake my head in hopes to fling the repercussions of such thoughts from my mind. It works for about oh...two minutes. About enough time to say goodbye to the needle lady and her useless crony, and saunter out the door. And then the ringing, the sweat and the pink strike once again! So not only did I not admirably tough the blood test out as I was planning, but I almost faint TWICE from the damn thing lol.

Thinking about it now, it is rather weird. One moment you're a tad uneasy, just watching the needle glint in the halogen light, then the next you're going through a minor state of shock. Not really a phobia, but almost a unnatural reaction that for some odd reason occurs naturally for me. Seeing that I've had very little exposure to needles (and surgery for that matter), having been vaccination-free since I was in Kindergarten, it makes one wonder where such an extreme bodily reaction can spring from. Past lives? Ghosts of memories from the womb? Weird voodoo science?

Anyway, that's my slice of blather for today. It's very early and I really should be sleeping eheh.

Sayounara! And fare thee well!
S&Mel, Queen of Darkness and Lizards
(may she never encounter an army of needles)
^_^

May 31st, 2007

One hundred facts. One individual. One shortening attention span. You know the deal.

Time to see if one of the Blogosphere's mightiest contenders for the (fictional) Procrastination Award can pass this most ultimate of Procrastination Tests.

1. It was actually quite difficult for me to think of an initial fact.
2. The alias "justverydifferent" has been with me since 2003, and is in fact a homage to my magnus opei's surrogate title "A Very Different Story".
3. My previous alias, to my utter geeky shame, was "linked2zelda". Scoff and piss yourself laughing as you so please. I certainly do.
4. My magnus opei is still very unfinished, to my disappointment.
5. Disappointment seems to be the emotion I most commonly feel when I should, in fact, be foaming at the mouth with anger.
6. I currently have Pharyngitis. Tad disappointing. Yay.
7. I may or may not have Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. Another yay.
8. I have three out of three major symptoms of Polycystic Ovary Syndrome- those symptoms being acne, irregular bleeds, and being overweight- but the ultrasound and blood tests I had when I was sixteen found absolutely nothing, except that I was a little bit dehydrated at the time of the test.
9. Blood tests are the amalgamation of my two greatest phobias: needles (or any sort of medical equipment to be used on me), and my own blood leaving me from a non-self inflicted wound.
10. People find it very surprising, given my love of violence and related demented things, that I have these phobias.
11. People also find it very surprising that I am not even remotely vegetarian.
12. I used to be really afraid of the dark when I was little. For example, if the bathroom was dark at night, I would not go until the morning.
13. What I was really afraid of was the possibility of Roswell Greys hiding in said darkness, and the attached possibility of being abducted by them.
14. This fear may or may not have been planted by the "Mysterious Mysteries" like shows I used to watch at that age.
15. I still find it unnerving to swim in dark seawater, despite how much I love swimming.
16. Yes, Mel loves swimming. Outside.
17. Said state of being unnerved by dark water was not planted by watching "Jaws", as I am still yet to see it.
18. I love great white sharks. They're like the Tyrannosaurus Rex of today's oceans.
19. My favourite dinosaur just so happens to be Tyrannosaurus Rex.
20. For a while now I have been trying to subtly disseminate the false rumour that T-Rexes actually used their useless two-fingered front limbs to communicate with a special T-Rex sign language.
21. This rumour hasn't gone very far, which makes me sad.
22. I used to cry at the drop of a hat when I was younger, and over pointless things too.
23. Mumsie eventually cracked the shits and told me to grow up when I cried over some sick goldfish. Ever since I have been a rather stoic, bottled-up kind of person.
24. Yes, I call my mother Mumsie.
25. I don't have a nickname for my dad. He hasn't really been around the family environment long enough for a nickname to develop. OOOOOOH. Burn.
26. My parents split up when I was in Year Five (or eleven years old).
27. Both of my parents are lazy, so they didn't get the official divorce-related paperwork until about six years later.
28. I am also somewhat lazy. More rather, make that very lazy.
29. For some odd reason, (see fact 26) I remember events in school according to school years, instead of my own age. I find it very hard to remember it any other way, and I think this gives my school a little more credit than I'd like.
30. I went to a tyrannically Anglican eastern suburbs private girls school. It's name was St. Catherine's, and it sucked.
31. Said school is over 150 years old now. 151 years old, to be precise.
32. I, in direct contrast to this religion-laced education, am a raging atheist/Laveyian Satanist.
33. Mess with the atheists on campus (at Macquarie Uni), and they will subtly sic me onto your religious propaganda like this! *clicks!*
34. My favourite prank so far has been arranging god-bothering posters into inverted cross arrangements. This really scares the bejesus out of the people who put said posters up.
35. I once ran for University Council. I wore a sweet hat in my photo and pulled over 300 votes.
36. I was surprised that anyone other than myself voted for me willingly, let alone over 300 voters. Maybe it was the sweet hat.
37. Speaking of sweet hats, I had a three second relationship with Keith Flint from the Prodigy. It was the sweet hat that caught his eye.
38. I now have three sweet hats.
39. Fortunately, I don't have three sweet tumours to match. HAHA CANCER JOKE.
40. I am allowed to make cancer jokes because my grandfather on my dad's side died of prostate cancer.
41. I'm also allowed to make them because I like unPC humour. As long as it is HUMOUROUS though.
42. My grandfather was a very paranoid person, who was so obsessed about his eventual death that I wouldn't be surprised if the paranoid stress had invited the cancer in.
43. This particular grandfather's funeral was the only big family ceremony that I did not write a poem for.
44. The poem I wrote for my other grandfather's funeral made everyone cry. And I mean everyone.
45. By the way, I have been told that I am a fantastic writer.
46. I build my opinions of myself largely on the feedback I am given by the people around me, because when it comes to the topic of myself, I am somewhat biased. Hence "I have been told that I am a fantastic writer" instead of "I am a fantastic writer".
47. The nothing but awesome feedback I have recieved thus far means I have iron cast self-esteem. Thanks guys! :)
48. Confidence in my body though, not so much. Cough.
49. I am also a grammar/spelling Nazi.
50. I will type perfectly even when I am so drunk that I cannot get up. Tested and true!
51. I have had one hangover. It was nasty and moonshine-related.
52. I get very very friendly when drunk.
53. Apparently I also ooze testerone and sex whilst drunk, which I find amusing.
54. Said oozing has given me a girl pashes to boy pashes ratio of 3:2. It also scored me a great throbbing black hicky, of female origin.
55. Said oozing, however, has never gotten Mel laid. Which is sad for all who are not involved.
56. I occasionally switch from first to third person. I'm not sure what the switch depends on.
57. I have not worn a dress or a skirt since I was eleven years old. Even before then, I wasn't so keen on them.
58. I haven't really seen a dress or skirt I'm even marginally tempted to wear since.
59. I once went through a surfie phase where I wore nothing but brightly coloured Mambo T-shirts and shorts.
60. I'm still partially (and secretly) fond of Mambo-related art- particularly the older stuff.
61. Surrealism would have to be my favourite art movement, though I'm a big fan of post-modern art too.
62. My favourite artist is the delightfully moustachioed Salvador Dali, followed by Man Ray, Stelarc, H.R Giger, Jhonen Vasquez, Andy Goldsworthy, Todd Lockwood and that guy who does all the art for the Discworld series. *cannot be arsed to get up and find the artist's name in her Art of Discworld book*
63. I find facial hair, particularly well-groomed and diabolical-looking moustaches and goatees, so attractive that it hurts.
64. I also have a bit of an Asian fetish. UNDERSTATEMENT.
65. I am also quite renowned for loving bondage and various other kinks in a most enthusiastic manner.
66. I love animals, especially reptiles, with equal enthusiasm. Exceptions are rabbits, rats and cats. I love them less because they go feral and screw with the other animals out there.
67. I've grown an immunity to cat, seeing I now know more cat-people than I thought was possible.
68. One of my guiltiest pleasures is the odd morsel of scaly bondage porn.
69. When asked whether I'm a cat or dog person, I usually say that I'm, in fact, a bird-person.
70. My longest lasting friendship is with my nine year old cockateil Maxo. She's turning ten this year in September :)
71. During the first two years of owning Maxo, I thought she was a male (because the petshop owners told us so). But then she laid an egg and that perception had to change lol.
72. Another one of those bizarre guilty pleasures I have is listening to videogame music.
73. My favourite game ever is, as my terrible previous alias suggests, the Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time. It wasn't a game- it was a way of life.
74. I also am an avid fan of Metroid, Super Smash Brothers, Enter the Matrix, old school Mario Brothers, Warcraft, Age of Empires, Elder Scrolls, Baldur's Gate, Neverwinter Nights, Icewind Dale, the Sims 2, Carmageddon and Silent Hill games.
75. I also really loved this crazy old game called Sweevo's World. So far Liam and my dad are the only other people I know who have heard of it, let alone played it.
76. Fact 68 reminded me that I'm cold-blooded. My blood temperature sits about a degree and a half lower than the average human being's. This means I feel the cold easier and am feverish at a deceptively low temperature, and explains how the hell I manage to occasionally wear a long coat in summer.
77. I have the constitution of a dwarf. It takes a lot of alcohol, and a lot of mixing alcohol, to take me down.
78. Said constitution allowed me to merely sleep off a urinary tract infection. Which was nice.
79. My first shot ever was Czech plum brandy, also known as Slivovice. It smelt like plum, but tasted like paint thinner. I took it like a man. No, make that a dwarf.
80. I have a really mixed heritage. My dad's side is Scottish and Welsh, whilst my mother's side is Czech, Polish and Russian. The Czech blood is the most prominent, apparently.
81. I may need to research into this more, but apparently I am related to the brother of the last Polish Tsar. This brother however betrayed said Tsar, and so doesn't get any of the inheritance. Whoops!
82. Despite Czech heritage, I am allergic to cabbage, a great Czech delicacy.
83. I'm also allergic to mushrooms, corn, cranberries, and lamb.
84. My favourite Czech dish is Smazeny Syr. It's pretty much just a hunk of Edam cheese breadcrumbed and deep fried, and served with tartare sauce (just in case the DEEPFRIED CHEESE didn't lubricate your innards with enough oil).
85. I don't have this dish very often, because your body dies a little bit of cholesterol poisoning every time you have it lol.
86. I am so very achingly close to a full 100 facts now.
87. I'm known to blather a lot, so that isn't very surprising.
88. I currently have about 16 GB of music- which translates to something over 3500 tracks.
89. About one hundred of these tracks are Invader Zim audio clips.
90. I listen to a broad range of music. From Indie to Techno to Goth to Metal to Rock to Trip-Hop to Low-Fi to Classical to World music, I have some of it... somewhere.
91. I cannot bear to listen to music with voices that shit me. This rules out a lot of Emo, the entirety of commerical Rap and also a lot of Indie stuff too.
92. The three bands that got me into music at all were System of a Down, Daft Punk and Fatboy Slim. Then I went Prodigy crazy.
93. The music genre I most comfortably listen to is Industrial.
94. My favourite album at the moment is Year Zero by Nine Inch Nails.
95. Though I don't really have a singular favourite track now, my favourite track used to be Go by Andy Hunter.
96. I was mortified when I discovered this track was written by a devoutly Christian DJ, bit still continued to love it to bits.
97. I have seen Opeth, Nine Inch Nails, the Prodigy, Static-X, Ill Nino, MM9, Cog, System of a Down, the Chemical Brothers, Mudvayne, the White Stripes, Iggy Pop, the Beastie Boys, and Slipknot live.
98. My first concert was Johnny Farnham's "Man of the Hour" tour, but I don't talk about that. I was accompanying my mother.
99. As you may or may not know, I started my LiveJournal account on the four year anniversary of Sept-11.
100. This is the 140th time I've posted.

Mwa hahaha. I win!

Mel, Queen of Dark Lizards and Lizardy Darkness
^_^

May 28th, 2007

Image Reboot

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rorschach
Just a quickie for today.

I thought I should warn people that they may or may not immediately recognize me due to a recent octopus-removal. The octopus being my insane crazy hentai tentacle-monster hair that seems to be very adept at warding off employment and eating small children.

I am now blonder and shorter (hair-wise) than I was at the beginning of the weekend. I'm also considering indigo streaks or something, because I can get away with it now that the tentacle-beast has departed.

Anyway, I'll update more substantially later on,
S&Mel, Queen of Darkness and Lizards
^_^

May 18th, 2007

Problematic

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third eye
Argh- why are my hands and feet so fucked damned ITCHY?! I think I might be allergic to all the dust floating around at home at the moment. Never been so persistantly itchy in my life-aside from childhood chicken pox.

We're getting the dingy bathroom downstairs, which is right next to my room, renovated- so that explains the dust. It also means that we get our water cut off during the day, and people with jackhammers come galumping in at around seven in the morning, each morning, and that Mel doesn't get a lot of the little sleep she normally gets. I've trying to figure out how to sleep through jackhammers and the like- been successful sometimes, for a few hours, until something *really* heavy gets dropped or broken or something. Then I wake up, to my annoyance.

Anyway, that wasn't really the problem my brain wanted to vomit out, but hey. When you're taking ages to type a simple post because you're constantly hot damn scratching, I guess it makes itself significant.

Anyway, hypothetical time!

A hand feeds out kibble to a puppy whilst trying to teach it a trick. It's cute, and furry, and the hand gets to stroke it, but otherwise all the puppy does is snarf kibble and attention. The hand realizes that the puppy isn't making any progress with the trick. So it makes a more direct attempt to teach it. The puppy doesn't like this, as it doesn't involve kibble, and so it bites the hand. Frustrated, the hand withdraws. It doesn't like getting bitten! The puppy goes off and begs for kibble elsewhere, but doesn't really succeed. Everyone saw the cantankerous creature and its biting, and they don't really want any of that hot biting action. So puppy eventually comes back to the original hand that fed it, and, forgetting about the biting incident entirely, it decidedly wants kibble again.

Is it wrong for the hand to just look into the watery eyes of the little furry creature, and just feel the distinct lack of wanting to pet it and/or continue handing out the kibble?

May 14th, 2007

A Natural One

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third eye
FUCKING COMPUTERS!

Argh. So many flavours of computer-related death running through the system at the moment. It seems that I have rolled a natural one in my Use (Computer) skill check. Consequences of such a roll are as follows...

1) Big Acer decides it's going to stop recognizing its internal mouse touch pad thingy, just because it can. Mel can no longer use the mouse, and therefore has to navigate the infernal machine using the keyboard alone. If she can be fucked to do so.

2) Little Usually Very Reliable Acer decides, after being a little bit neglected since Big Acer came, that it's not going to co-operate with the house's internet connection. It's reverting to its old blinking tricks (i.e maintaining a connection for about half a minute, then disconnecting, then re-acquiring the IP address, and then reconnecting all over again), which makes Mel rather frustrated.

3) Mel wants to pitch both Big Acer and Little Acer across room, but realizes this would do nothing productive (despite how well physical abuse works on 2000-2003 period iMacs).

Anyway, I thought all the blinking on MSN Messenger needed some explaining. So there you go.
*refrains from stabbing things*
S&Mel, Queen of Dark Lizards and Lizardy Darkness
^_^
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