Arrant Nonsense

I am holding...

In my formerly nicotine-stained fingers...

A Ruger LCP Raspberry .380.



Normally, I'm not much of a girly girl, but this SPOKE to me (perhaps not as loudly as the Micro Desert Eagle, but also not as expensively, because, damn, that's a $500 little tiny handgun and this was, well, way less than that). Perhaps now I'll actually get that concealed-carry permit...

I can has new mouse. And it's pink. Also, I didn't pay as much for it as they want on that website, because I am cheap and shop at WalMart. This one has internet buttons, y'all. No longer do I have to move up to the top of my browser for a back or forward button. Whee.

*feels girly*

In other news, I used the word "facepalm" as a noun in the not!KKBB/IM story, and am profoundly unrepentant.

You know, some internal consistency in this story might be nice.

I've established that the nanotech makes the recipients alternately exhausted and ravenous as it uses the body's resources to heal it. HOWEVER. I establish that in the second scene where they use it.

Do I have a graceful way of inserting it into the first scene?

Nooooooo.

CRAP.

Nevermind. I can do it by the simple expedient of them making a detour to the kitchen after not!Tony wakes up from, you know, being shot.

In other news, we're going to Vegas this weekend to watch an NHRA race, which should be fun and exciting, but this means I have tons of things to do today, including a visit to the bank, the comic store (new Spike, Solomon Kane, and Chuck comics today, woo!), and Target, for these:



Understand that I don't get shoe lust very often. I own something like...four? pairs of shoes (seriously--a pair of running shoes, a pair of hiking boots, and two pairs of dressy flats, one light and one dark), and have a philosophy that life is too short to don uncomfortable footwear.

But these...they just speak to me on some primal level. I have no idea where I'm going to wear such things, or even if I ever will, because I'm already ridiculously tall and they look terribly uncomfortable, but... DAMN. Must. Have.

Yeah, I don't know either.

I've put not!Pepper back together again. And boy, is she pissed.

And I find that I'm writing real, honest-to-God romance.

HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?

Okay, yes, I realize that the very nature of H/C lends itself to romance. And not!Tony is very H and will require quite a bit of the ol' C. But even when I write it (and Lord knows I have, it's one of my cast-iron kinks), it usually just deepens an existing friendship. I don't do hearts and flowers and puppies and babies and "Marry me." I've always thought that my romance bone was broken. *headdesks*

Well. Since the spec element of this is refusing to rear its head, maybe I can sell it to a romance magazine. If there are such.

Five thousand words and counting...