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zomg, so, like...
I need no help being wanky, I can be wanky all on my own!
Sadly, the wank on the Subreality Cafe Mailing List appears to have died down (THE MOST ACTION that list has seen since about 2001...).
But, BUT. I got this email from Q-whatsit, and, I'll admit, my initial reaction was, "Wow. You really are an idiot." Unfortunately, even after 24 hours, my initial reaction still perfectly expressed my feelings. So that's what I said in reply.
Dear Lyssie:
You made a reference to Kielle's philosophy of "If it was Subreality, it was on the site". This leads very nicely into a question I've wanted to ask you for some time: Exactly how is your story "The G-String of Bobby Drake" Subreality? What element of it can be accomplished only with replicas of Iceman, and not with any agglomeration of random young men with too much time on their hands?
Sincerely,
He's referring to this short, fluffy, completely pointless little fic.
I have no idea what it has to do with Subreality. Nor, in the end, do I care. As it accomplished what I'd intended, iirc--making Mice giggle, or some such. I don't know, it's been five years since I randomly jotted it down.
But, I've gotta ask the guys on my flist, do you, as a whole, sit around and talk about wearing G-Strings and stripping?
Sadly, the wank on the Subreality Cafe Mailing List appears to have died down (THE MOST ACTION that list has seen since about 2001...).
But, BUT. I got this email from Q-whatsit, and, I'll admit, my initial reaction was, "Wow. You really are an idiot." Unfortunately, even after 24 hours, my initial reaction still perfectly expressed my feelings. So that's what I said in reply.
Dear Lyssie:
You made a reference to Kielle's philosophy of "If it was Subreality, it was on the site". This leads very nicely into a question I've wanted to ask you for some time: Exactly how is your story "The G-String of Bobby Drake" Subreality? What element of it can be accomplished only with replicas of Iceman, and not with any agglomeration of random young men with too much time on their hands?
Sincerely,
He's referring to this short, fluffy, completely pointless little fic.
I have no idea what it has to do with Subreality. Nor, in the end, do I care. As it accomplished what I'd intended, iirc--making Mice giggle, or some such. I don't know, it's been five years since I randomly jotted it down.
But, I've gotta ask the guys on my flist, do you, as a whole, sit around and talk about wearing G-Strings and stripping?
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(Yes, but we could all pretend to be guys. Talking about it. Or something.)
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Even in the dark. :P
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