Let the spectacle astound you
A happy late birthday to you! I hope that you had a wonderful day (:
nyyyyello, this is not Naomi speaking.
(the quote above was, though.)
while Naomi is at work, I have taken on the task to blog for her. well, I say blog. what I wanted was actually just to share with you that Naomi is a sweet patoot who is letting me live in her house for 3 weeks. I don’t even really deserve it, all I do is sit on the bed (that she moved into her room just for me) while she works her butt off to make A Finger Slip happen, and also working her paid job and having enough energy to be funny. She even pees with olympical speed so she has more time to write scripts.
I hope you appreciate everything this totally awesome lady is doing. like spending so much of her own money and so much of her time and energy to make this webseries happen. while you think nothing is happening because nothing has been posted on the blog lately, all that means is that everyone is too busy to post updates every day. I’ve seen Naomi writing scripts in her bed when she should be sleeping, organizing shoot schedules when she should be eating, and making sure everything a-okay always. it is. because Naomi Javor is a hero.
\and she snores, but at least she gets her beauty rest.
T H I S H A S B E E N A P S A .
peace and love; rock and roll; salt and pepper; tooth and paste;
Ingrid aka deliciafay aka Harry Watson (and Bear the dog).
//follow me for more hardboiled easter eggs and vatican cameos\
i was talking to becca and she said “imagine sherlock in a shop trying to choose between orange juice and apple juice, just imagine that small son buying things”
sherlock in sainsbury’s, with a little trolley, stood in front of the juice section. he thinks about which juice to buy and decides he prefers orange juice. but which one? smooth? with bits? sainsbury’s basics? tropicana? taste the difference? imagine him standing in front of all those cartons of juices and thinking about which one to buy. but he doesn’t know because he hasn’t tasted most of them. so he decides to try them. he opens each one and tries a bit and of course the security gets called because there’s a weird man in a weird coat opening orange juice cartons and drinking a bit and putting them away again. so there’s a lot of shouting and sherlock is outraged he has to buy orange juice without deciding empirically which one is his favourite and that now he has to buy all of the open cartons. he comes home with about 15 open and partially empty cartons of orange juice which now have to be finished within 2 days and john just loses it completely like how the fuck can sherlock go buy milk, eggs, bread and pizza and come back with15 sodding open bloody cartons of fucking orange juice how the fuck are they supposed to drink that in 2 days. so sherlock goes down to mrs hudson to give her a few cartons, he gives molly some too when he sees her later on, and when lestrade calls them later that day sherlock arrives at the crime scene with his hands full of orange juice and starts handing it out to shell shocked police officers. john just stands there like i married that fucking idiot, i knew it would happen, never again. until a month later sherlock offers to buy dinner and gets stuck in the dessert section. cheescake or muffins?
whenever i’m sad i like to imagine what possible crime Steve Irwin’s ancestor committed to warrant him being sent to Australia like some Victorian gentleman escorting a lady to the zoo past the crocodile enclosure and going “do you see that great wyrm sunning itself there? quite a striking creature, is it not? I do believe I shall engage it in fisticuffs.”