tinhuviel: (Default)

From My Handwritten Journal 

A few hours after Program, I Uber'd over to downtown, where I got my first pair of shoes in over 5 years.  It's a good thing Birkenstocks last for so long, considering how spendy they are, and that they are addictive hoof holders that prevent devoted wearers from wearing anything else for any period of time.  The pair I had were literally falling apart.  I'm talking three flaps of  shoe, flopping with every step I took.  Not to mention the shoes were too big for me, thanks to all the weight loss.  I can attribute more than one fall, or almost fall, to wearing these menaces to my well-being.  You can call me a lot of things, but Imelda Marcos ain't one of 'em, buddy!

Anyway, it did not take long to get what I went there for...the Arizona style of sandal, which was the first style I ever got, and still my favourite. At my request, the shoe saleswoman measured my feet and fitted me with a size 40 shoe, instead of the size 42 I had always worn before.  When your shoes are too large on you, that's a definite indication that you've lost a fuckton of weight.  I left my old shoes behind, in the box the new shoes came in, telling the saleswoman to consider the box a coffin for the long-dead zombie shoes.

Instead of Ubering straight back to the house, I decided to try out the new shoes (spit) (if you didn't get that joke, you're not a real Twin Peaks fan, just sayin'.) and mosy over to Balboa Park. That's where I am currently writing this, cradled in the giant roots of a eucalyptus tree. I've taken pics to accompany the journal entry.  I tend to keep my handwritten journaling separate from the Cliffs of Insanity material but, in this instance, the twain shall meet, just for the hell of it. 

When I got to the park, I made a beeline for the playground.  The swings were empty, so I plopped my nearly 50-year-old arse down in one, and began to swing.  I did this for about 15 minutes, all the while listening to a dude play his flute.  After I finished swinging, I walked further into the park.  When I passed the flautist, he began playing The Fiddler's Irish Jig.  I don't know if he saw my green hair and opted to go full on Gael, breaking away from the Jazz he'd been playing exclusively up until I sashayed by, or if it was just an odd coincidence.  Being a perpetual "victim" of synchronicity, I'm not a real big proponent of coincidence.

I guess I should head back to the house now.  Margaret needs to talk to me about the move, and something tells me (like my body, duh) I'm going to need a bathroom sooner rather than later. 

tinhuviel: (Torquemada)

I haven’t done one of these in about 10,000 years, so let’s get this show on the road.

This is all true. photo 1264091_10153348891685721_288267917_o.jpg1. Full name: Tracy Angelina Evans
2. Nicknames: Tin, Tinhuviel, George, Darth Shriek
3. Birthplace: Asheville, North Carolina USA
4. Birthday: 10 September, 1967
5. Where Do You Live Now?: San Diego, California
6. Parent(s): Father Unit has passed.  Mother Unit is here in San Diego.
7. Sibling(s): ZERO
8. Looks: Better off invisible.
9. Favourite Animal(s): Anything non-human, except for millipedes and centipedes.  Like humans, they can go fuck themselves.
10. Favorite TV Show(s): Impractical Jokers, Better Call Saul

11. Favorite Kind(s) Of Music: Most everything but Country and Opera.
12. Favorite Movie(s): Sci-Fi, Unusual, Conceptual, Foreign
13. School: Some college, focusing on English and Veterinary Assistance
14. Future School: I’m too old for this question. The Chapel Perilous

15. Future Job: Testing new, effective sleep aids.
16. Boyfriend/Girlfriend: nah
17. Best Buds: I’m a bit of a hermit these days.
18. Favorite Candy: Milk Dud
19. Hobbies: Music, reading, writing
20. Things You Collect: Grudges, CDs, movies, moments in time.

21. Do You Have A Personal Phone Line: Yes
22. Favorite Body Part Of The Opposite Sex? The eyes and brain
23. Any Tattoos And Where Of What?: Red & Black Triskele on right hand, Green Shriekback logo on left hand, Mwanza Flat-headed Agama with green and blue hues instead of pinkish and blue.
24. Piercing(s) And Where?: not anymore
25. What Do You Sleep in?: clothing
26. Do you like Chain Letters: aw HELL NAW.
27. Best Advice: Reality is peripheral.
28. Favorite Quotes: Hope for the best, expect the worst. - Mel Brooks.
29. Non-sport Activity You Enjoy: sleep
30. Dream Car: A transporter

31. Favorite Thing To Do In Spring: Avoid the sun.
32. What’s Your Bedtime: Whenever I’m lucky.
33. Where Do You Shop: Wherever I can.
34. Coke or Pepsi: Cheerwine

35. Favorite Thing(s) To Wear?: Something loose that will allow me to blend into my surroundings.
36. Favorite Subject(s) In School: English and Creative Writing

37. Favorite Color(s): Green, Red, Black
38. Favorite People To Talk To Online: People with brains and a wicked sense of humour that has set them on the road to Hell.

39. Root-Beer or Dr. Pepper? Root beer

40. Do You Shave? I’m too old for that bullshit.

41. Favorite Vacation Spot(s): I don’t do vacations.  My favourite place to BE is England.
42. Favorite Family Member(s): Smidgen
43. Did You Eat Paint Chips When You Were a Kid? WHAT?
44. Favorite CD you own: Currently Without Real String or Fish by Shriekback
45. The ONE Person Who You Hate The Most: Going with an old standard here and saying Pat Robertson.
46. Favorite Food(s)?: Potatoes
47. Who Is The Hottest Guy or Girl In The World?: I have a very short list.
48. What Is Your Favorite Salad Dressing?: Bleu Cheese.
49. When You Die, Do You Wanna Be Buried or Burned Into Ashes? I don’t care, as long as I end up on Craggy Dome.
50. Do You Believe In Aliens?: Absolutely.

51. If You Had The Chance To Professionally Do Something, What would You Do? I’m already a Professional Misanthropist.
52. Things You Obsess Over: Various artists, ideas, philosophies, theories, general weirdness
53. Favorite Day of the Week: Don’t bloody care.
54. An Authority Figure You Hate: The Feudal Mistress still tops the list.
55. Favorite Disney Movie: Bambi
56. What Is Your Favorite Season? Winter
57. What Toppings Do You Like On Your pizza? Cheese, with extra cheese, and cheese on the side.
58. Do You Like Your School Food Itself (As In The District Food): I never ate it.
59. If You Could Live Anywhere, Where Would You Live? Avebury, Wiltshire, UK
60. Favorite Thing(s) To Do On Weekends: Sleep, if I can accomplish it.

61. Favorite Magazine(s): Don’t have one.
62. Favorite Flower(s): White rose

63. Favorite Number(s): 5

64. Favorite Ice Cream flavor(s): Ben & Jerry’s Wavy Gravy

65. What Kind of Guys/Girls Are You Attracted to?: Dangerously intelligent, beautiful, talented, and hilarious.

66. What’s Your Most Embarrassing Moment? I inadvertently introduced myself to someone as his wife.

67. If You Could Change One Thing About Yourself What Would It be? I would be fearless.

68. Do You Eat Breakfast First Then Brush Your Teeth or Brush first ten eat breakfast: breakfast first.

69. Favorite Time of Day: Whenever I get to sleep.

70. Can A Guy and Girl Be Just “Best Friends?”: Why not?

71. Do You Ask The Girl/Guy Out Or Do You Wait For Them To Come To You?: I don’t go there anymore.

72. Do You Mind Paying For Sex? I never would.

73. What’s The Most Important thing In Someone’s Personality: Sentience

74. Do you have a pager or cell phone? Cell

75. Favorite Sport: Flambodious Butt-walking

76. What Was the Best Gift You Ever Received? Love

77. How Long Did This Letter Take You To Finish?: Not very long.

78. What Did You Listen To While Completing It?: Electric Light Orchestra’s Alone in the Universe.

79. Are you or would you like to be married in the near future (next 5 years)? NEGATIVE

80. Don’t u just hate how psychics never win the lottery? I hate it more than I don’t win the lottery. I hate psychics, especially the ones who claim to talk to your dead relatives.  They’re grifters who should be drawn and quartered.  The End.

tinhuviel: (Bellatrix)

I am kind of freaking out right now.  At the age 5, I was enrolled in 1st grade, at which time I was swiftly and truly schooled by my classmates.  I was not normal.  Period.  I wasn't allowed to dance to music like I'd always done before, without getting called names and being laughed at.  My teacher gave me a time out for not being able to recite the Lord's Prayer, and when we were supposed to play games that called for teams, there was team A and team "Shit, she's the only one left."  It was apparent, in no uncertan terms, that nothing about me was normal.  And since my family moved around a lot, I wasn't normal at any school, so it had to be me, not them.  I was given the advice to ignore it and they'd eventually go away, but they didn't. This ended, for the most part, while I was working at BMG, when I finally lost it on some asshole at J Records I was forced to work with.  I had one more incident of bullying behaviour just yesterday, and I reacted viciously. To be honest, I can't remember everything that happened there, but I think I just on that thin line that separates verbal confrontation from physical altercation.  Thirty-two (non-consecutive) years of bullying boiled up in my body, and I just fucking exploded.  But I'm not here to talk about bullying.  It seems I've done a lot of that since I've been on the Internet, and finding others like myself.  The Island of Misfit Toys is a real place on Teh Intarwebz, located a little further north-west of Dr. Moreau's Island, and separated from Fantasy Island by the Sea of Dreams (yes, we can see y'all from from our winders).  Enough of that, though.  Let's get down to bidness.

I'm here to talk about feeling paranormally different since waking up on the 14th.  The doctor said he removed 17 pounds of excess skin, fat, and other crap that wouldn't have ever otherwise gone away.  I'm talking about hearing the nurse softly say in my ear, "breathe deeply", and then I woke up with parts of my body that have always been part of me since I began to gain more weight than other kids my age, at four years.  The midsection of my stomach is mostly flat, but the lower part, the part that hangs down to your thighs when you stand, and makes you think that you have no lap whatsoever when you sit down - - well, it is gone.  Totally fucking gone.  Working on my computer has even changed, because my stomach was my prop, so I could work on my writing, promotions, and blogging while Smidgen curled up on my chest or upper abdomen.  Now, I'm having dificulty trying to find a decent computer spot, so I can write this.  I feel as though, if I were back east with the friends I have, I would hear them whisper about me not being me, reinacting one of the earlier scenes of Invasion of the Bodysnatchers.

On 14 September whilst waiting to be rolled back to the operating room, I was lying on my back with my elbow and hands touching the mattress, or I had my fingers interlocked on my midsection, and my elbows just dangled at each side.  If I wanted to put my arms at my side, then my elbows could touch the mattress, but my fingers wouldn't meet.  I couldn't do both and I never could.  It was just a fact of life for me, even after the gastric bypass surgery in 2004. Now, my elbows can rest on the bed and my fingers can interlock at the same time.  The Mother Unit was amused that my discovery of this amazed me so much.  I know that doesn't sound like much, but when you've never been able to do it before, it's kind of a thing.  The effect on my lower back was nearly instantaneous.  A lot of that pull is gone, which was the main purpose for asking to get the procedures in the first place.  Total success, right there.  Despite currently feeling as though I have been thrown into the Iron Maiden at an Iron Maiden concert, my back already doesn't hurt as much, and I'm hoping the pain will continue to wane as I heal.  I can feel the difference in my knees as well.

Psychologically, the immediate effect has not been as positive as I would have liked, but that's not the doctor's fault. Everything he did was exactly the procedures he signed on to do, and he did them expertise.  The thing for me, though, was that I went to sleep in the body I'd had for around 32 years, and I woke up a stranger to myself.  I'm not doing as well as perhaps I should in respect to mentally catching up to the physical tranformation.  There are differences you would never think of, such as, seeing my own "cho-cha" (thank you, Missy Elliott) for the very first time in my entire life.  Only a few hours after the surgery has over, I learned the women's cho-chas were supposed to look like this.  It is still quite a surprise, because most laypeople or medical personnel would never think that such a change would be shockingly phantasmagoric.  It's as though the doctor pulled everything up.  From now on, whenever I see some crazy person in the park talking down her/his pants, I'm going to wonder if they had a panniculectomy and abdominoplasty.  Such a shock to the visual senses is bizarre and unsettling.  On the other hand, I might be that homeless crazy person taking to her own privates sooner than later.

I was told that the surgery took hours because the doctor wanted to be as thorough as possible while he was working. Based on some of the surgery pictures he'd shown me during our consultation, I have no doubt he was thorough.  In fact, I think he did more than was authorised, probably because he knew I might need it down the road. I was already dead to the world, so why not? After a little bit of online research, what little time I've been online, I'm thinking that that extra something was some liposuction, considering I have two balls that catch the bloody water draining out of me, and bruises that just won't quit on my lower stomach, thighs, and cho-cha. Everything is relatively level now.  I had fatty bits on my back that are gone now, too. After all this heals I will appear to be, more or less, like someone carrying a few extra pounds, but nothing people would gawk or throw vomit fat jokes in her direction.

My entire dieting life, I was told to chant the mantra "there's a thin person inside me that yearns to get out!"  I was conditioned to dislike everything about me that anyone could see, while striving to look like the ones who are always at the front of the line to get their kick in before the day over. I was filled with a hell of a lot of animosity by the time I was approved for gastric bypass surgery, so much so that I had before and after pictures taken in the event someone told me I looked good.  My plan was to whip those pictures out and ask them what they thought now!  Over a time, especially when Aunt Tudi's health started to decline, I just grew weary of my verbal fight with society, and just gave up on avenging the evil so quantumly ingrained in us all by this mockery of our exsistence.

But, the other day, I was told it was good to see me, a "much thinner" me.  I didn't say anything then, because I've been feeling like every hell imagined in every dimension that could currently be calculated by any Physics Academic, and to be perfectly frank, I did not want to be in a tiff, or what have you.  Now, I'm a tad concerned that, in my heart, I know I may throat punch anyone who has ever known or seen me prior to the surgeries, but still comes out with that programmed bullshit, especially if they refer to having surgies to assist me lose the weight that was killing me as "taking the easy way out."  I am not above going all Jack Torrance with an ax on any motherfucker who crosses that line, and thanks to those oh so very easy surgeries and recoveries that were alllll done for cosmetic reasons and nothing else, I'm lighter, limberer, and enthusiastically motivated to shut you up by ripping your jaw bone off your stupid brainless head and feeding it to Toby. Strangers who do not know me will get you one free pass but, if a stranger proving how much of a douche nozzle they are by judging another within my earshot may very well end up in an intimate relationship with my shoes and elbows.  I haven't forgotten all the Kung Fu I was taught, and I'll probably be able to do them better now.  You can be my practice.

The flesh a person is in, is not that person, but it can affect them in unimaginable ways.  I feel like a stranger in a strange land now.  I can't quite grasp the extent of my aura.  Toby caught a glimpse of mm the other day, and barked at me as though I were a stranger.  I'm wondering how Smidge will handle seeing her new old bed, unimpressed that it no longer has the cushioning she requires.  I can get around things a bit easier, but still move like I need to squeeze, and that makes me look like I'm up to no good.  I had some of these issues with the first surgery, but the effects came much more slowly, so my adjustments were more easily accepted.  This time, not so much.  Not even after the gastric bypass did I have a figure.  Now that I do, I don't look right.

But just because I'm struggling doesn't mean I've lost one iota of my venom for humanity as a whole.  Once built, or stolen, I can just shoot my lethal laser gun at the global urban centers while wearing some dumbass latex cat suit.



Love, Tin

PS: If you find any spelling or grammatical mistakes in this, chalk it up to unbridled anger combined with full body pain. Thank you.

tinhuviel: (Family Dog)

In 2009, I took one of a litter of Beagle pups that had been born on a farm. I named him Fitzgerald and, for the few months Aunt Tudi and I had him, he was an absolute joy.
fitz.JPGExcept for one thing...

On our return from grocery shopping one day, Fitzgerald met us at the car. You may be inclined to think, "So what? That's what dogs do!" But, see, my yard is completely fenced in, thanks to another Beagle in my life, Henry Herman, who ate all the wiring out from under my car. I figured there had to be a hole in the fence somewhere.

I investigated, and found one spot Fitzgerald could squeeze through if he really wanted to. I blocked it off and figured the problem was solved.

It was not.

The next week, coming back from the store, Aunt Tudi and I watched slack-jawed at Fitzgerald bouncing merrily alongside the car, acting like he was herding some nerfs. But I couldn't find anywhere in the fence that was compromised.

A few days later, Janice called to inform me that Fitzgerald was up at her and Uncle Michael's house, and she saw how he was getting out.

Fitzgerald, wee escape artist that we is, or was when he was a pup, was climbing the fence to get out and follow whatever scent he'd caught. He could climb out, but didn't seem as confident trying to climb back in. Not only that, but he was almost guaranteed to be hit by one of the speeding maniacs who lived further down on Paul's Drive or facing a fate worse than car homicide.  He could have been taken by people who could sell him to less than reputable labaratories, where he'd be caged, tortured, even mutilated, then usually killed.

The lady who initially told us about the Beagles said that she could take Fitzgerald back. We were assured he'd be living a good farm life with wide open spaces to roam, as that would have been his gig had I not snatched him up in my arms, suffering from full-on Beagle Fever.  The last I heard, Fitzgerald is living the good life out in the country. Considering the chaos that life has been since 2011, I'm glad I gave him back.

After Toby passes, assuming he goes before I do, I don't see myself with another dog. My age, living arrangements, and health concerns make it all too clear that bringing another dog "home" would only end in grief and god knows what else when I'm gone. That's not fair to the dog. I don't like the idea of never having another dog in my life, especially if it's a Beagle but, when a decision you make will have bearing on more lives than just your own, it would be beyond unethical to make a pooch believe s/he has found their forever home, then find out their forever home called in dead, having hanged herself from the Cabrillo Bridge with a dog leash.

Looking at the possibility of future adoptions, then looking at the peevish expression on Fitzgerald's face, I am certain I'm making the best decision for everyone who is, or might be, involved or affected in the matter. bfplogo.jpgThat said, if anything should happen to me, don't do the flowers thing. And no, I'm not engaging in suicidal ideation. I'm just writing this as though it were a tragic dog drama lauded by the Academy Awards. Anyway, instead of purchasing dead posies for a dead person, give the money to the Beagle Freedom Project. Click their logo seen in this paragraph to learn more about the BFP, the Beagles they have rescued, and their plans to rescue even more as soon as they can.

phone_home.jpgEven better, this handy-dandy app does not require death for you to get involved right now.  In fact, instead of endorsing death on any level, purchasing the Cruelty Cutter will help you save lives and spare others a grim, pain-filled existence.

Sally forth to buy the Beagle Freedom Project's app, Cruelty Cutter, that will allow you to shop cruelty-free, as well as add your voice to the thousands demanding corporations end their unnecessary, immoral, and antiquated research methods.

The app is cheap, but it works like a charm, and the $2.99 you spend to get it will go to help the organisation rescue and rehome Beagles who have spent most, if not their entire lives locked in a cage that's locked in a laboratory.

Do it for Fitzgerald, the pooch who earned his honorary title, The One that Got away!

tinhuviel: (Can't Stop Writing)

d2ef2721-be91-4d13-8bed-e590c816fb9c copy

If you click the image above, you will be taken to the article whose headline is quoted beneath Pluto. It was my first thought when I read it, so I had to make it.

That has often been the case over the past few years, but I've kept most of those shenanigans over on Facebook, figuring the pics would eventually make their way into the infinite internet photo album. Recently, however, I learned that Facebook is a kind of closed network, where posts are not picked up on search engines. Even though my humour is usually tacky and obscure, I still like to share stuff with people who may dig it. Thankfully, LJ has made its scrapbook area much larger in capacity and so much easier to use! So I've decided to trawl through all my timeline photos, something like 4000 of them, and load them to LJ to share.

I promise I will use cuts after the first picture, and that I will not use images larger than an average "600," instead linking them to the larger original, should anyone want to see it.

Depending on how you feel about this, my post is either a fair warning, or it's a gleeful announcement. Hopefully, it's the latter. Stay tuned...

tinhuviel: (Super Sane T)

I'm posting these primarily for [livejournal.com profile] ladyana5, with whom I was discussing images on the Internet. I figured I'd make it a separate post to keep the band current in search engines, because Shriekback. The first image is the unaltered scan from a Creem magazine article that was printed during the Big Night Music period. You can click this image or the Photoshopped one to see them at the original size.


When I began work on the old Shriekback Digital Conspiracy site, I had never used Photoshop. The Father Unit gave me his version, whichever the latest was in 2000. Even though I'm still horrible at Photoshopping, I'm a thousand percent better then I was then. Behold the smeary rock where the lettering used to be! Horrible, horrible manip...


This is one of my favourite pics of the band. The only way it could have been better was if Carl had been in the shot. I will make note here that this image actually inspired an entire chapter in one of my books. A picture has never played a role in that kind of inspiration before, and it never has since. As I'm more auditory when it comes to Muse activity, I don't see it happening again, but I will never say never. You just can't know such things.

tinhuviel: (Cliffs of Insanity)

Years ago, Aunt Tudi found a mail order gag gift that she just had to have. She's holding it in the picture above. She asked me to get her, the Father Unit, and Uncle Michael one each, because she thought it was just hilarious. When it came in the mail, I took this picture of her, and photoshopped one gleaming tooth, adding the caption. I posted it here on LJ and on Facebook.

A lot of people here on the Cliffs got to know Aunt Tudi really well over the course of the nine years she was with me after I began blogging.  Many of them became friends with me on Facebook as well.  Facebook is where [livejournal.com profile] dydan contacted me to tell me she'd spotted Aunt Tudi on eBay.  She gave me the link to the eBay listing, and the belly-laughing commenced!  So I wrote to the person on eBay.  Here's a screen cap of the note.

And would she have laughed? Most definitely.

This is proof positive that anyone can be a model, even middle-aged, eccentric, crazy-cat-lady level, Southern goofballs with a fetish for novelty items!  Screw Kendall Jenner.  Aunt Tudi is a star!


I just got permission to share the rest of the conversation as it stands now. If there's anymore in the future that I can share, I'll do more edits. I have to say, this has really made my day. :D


(I then sent him the link to the video, since I wasn't bright enough to include in the original response)


tinhuviel: (Shriekback Logo)

Last night, the Mother Unit knocked on my door and said "mail call!"  She came in and handed me a mail order catalog and a small white lined mailer with a customs label on it.  I knew right away what I was in for, but I took a deep breath and told myself to be patient and wait for tomorrow.

Well, tomorrow is now today, and I opened that bad boy up to find the shiny new Care CD by Shriekback!  I must say, I'm delighted with the album, now that it has finally established its rightful place in world of Compact Disc.  And I'm even more thrilled with the fact that it boasts among the bonus tracks, my favourite song by the Shrieks, 'Despite Dense Weed', along with the story behind how this malignant serenade came into being.  I've posted the story here before, as well as posting on You Tube when I uploaded the song from another collection.  But, I'm sharing again, because no one has the power to stop me.

This - if I may make so bold - little gem was only previously released on the Y Records Xmas album, which may not have found the Total Market Penetration it doubtless deserved, so here it comes again. Inspired partly by the novel Riddley Walker (Shriekback required reading) and also by an Acid experience in a forest in which Vivienne Kent and myself experienced being predators of a blood-thirsty, lupine/vampirish kind, and, from the top of a tree contemplated a cosy little family out for a stroll with a view to slaughter and dismemberment (their only possible use). Ah, great days - and they still haven't found the bones (joke).  Viv plays murderous viola on the end bit and the Tiny Green Garden Sticks rear their vicious little heads again.

I left the CD on the bed while I went to get some water.  When I returned to my room, this is what I beheld.


Ah, Smidgen...  She truly is my totem and spirit guide.  She knows good stuff when she sees it.  The digipak is obviously delicious.  Thankfully she did no harm to it, and even posed for a second picture.  She looks like a spokesmodel, so I have dubbed her the Shriekback SpokesManx. There's no denying like draws like.  Shriekback are brilliant and take pretty pictures, and Smidgen is the same way.  This pic should be a billboard, I swear to Christ.


I may have to cajole her into modeling with other Shriek albums.  It could become a Thing.  With the Shrieks dabbling in forbidden aural alchemy, combined with Smidgen's laissez faire attitude regarding the paparazzi, and the sentient presense of the Internet, anything is possible. While I'm working at evoking a feline pout out of the Shriekback SpokesManx, you should meander over to the Shrieks' website and buy a copy of Care while you still can.  All these reissues are limited editions so, if you don't act now, you may end up lurking in the dark corners of eBay, hoping for the chance to purchase a used copy at some godawful price that helps the band in no perceivable way.  If you're unsure you want the album, allow me to direct your attention to a version of one of the songs on the CD, entitled 'Feelers.'

It's sure to wrap around you like celestial swaddling.

tinhuviel: (Devil Smidge)

I'm sure you're all like me, wondering what the bitey critters on the cover of the League of Gentlemen's album might look like in their natural habitat (other than under your bed) at night.  Well, I'm happy to provide the answer to your query.

First, let's look at the album cover.  Illustrated by the very gifted Danielle Dax, the cover of Robert Fripp and the League of Gentlemen's
only studio album is fairly alarming and will most likely compel you to go buy a night light, if you don't already have one.  Take a gander.


Cuddly, are they not?  How could they get any more adorable than this, I ask you?  It just doesn't seem possible.

Oh, but it is.  Behold the LoG imps frolicking in their forest home.  To quote a member of the LoG, writing about another record album over a decade later, I "
hope they give you some good dreams."


tinhuviel: (Crone)
I lifted this from [livejournal.com profile] _luaineach and [livejournal.com profile] clauderainsrm. You are supposed to post a picture of yourself from the future. So, here goes.

tinhuviel: (Cliffs of Insanity)

Trying to gain a Mac version of Semagic was a monumental failure.  So, now, I’m trying out MarsEdit.  We’ll see how it turns out.  Not really much to report at the mo.  I may be using Flickr a bit more, since this application is more friendly with that image-sharer than it is with Photobucket.  I’d never been comfortable.

Cut because I try to be polite. )
tinhuviel: (Default)
It all started sometime in May, I think. I was really keen on viewing The Watch, because I knew I'd love it, since it's a Ben Stiller flick.

I didn't expect a rival to Tim Roth to emerge from the night, literally.

When the fourth in the intrepid band of neighbourhood watchers arrives at Ben Stiller's house, I was both enthralled and confused. I couldn't keep my eyes from him, but I had mistaken him for Jermaine Clement, whom I do not find attractive in the least. I was all WTF?

So I did a web search, and swiftly discovered that the individual I was looking at was Richard Ayoade.

Oh dear god.

So I mentioned him on Facebook, and both [livejournal.com profile] morriganwind and [livejournal.com profile] razzle asked me if I had not seen The IT Crowd. Noooooo… I'd never even heard of it. So I brought it up on Netflix, and watched all four series in the course of about three days.

Oh dear god.

The character Ayoade plays, Maurice Moss, is me. Plus there's a Goth character, Richmond, played by Noel Fielding, that could easily be a lesser spirit animal in my menagerie of unusual totems.

So, then, I started looking Richard Ayoade up on You Tube, and watching interviews and various comedy appearances. The dude is the epitome of Hot Nerd.

[livejournal.com profile] razzle also got me into the podcast, Welcome to Night Vale, and now I'm all about Richard Ayoade playing either Cecil or, especially, Carlos (with his perfect, perfect hair) in a movie of the podcast.

Anyway, behold this beautiful entity. Who knew a mix of Norwegian and Nigerian blood could produce…this? I am gobsmacked and completely head over heels for this dude.

 photo tumblr_mtnowc1H6u1shqmw7o1_500.jpg

Now, this is not to say that I have turned my back on my Tim Roth obsession. Far from it. I have literally run out of Roth pictures on the web. Yes, I have seen them all. And I'm having issues with finding a program that will allow me to download You Tube videos and rip DVDs, so I can continue the Tim Roth Tutorials. That will gear up again, as soon as I sort out my problems.

In the meantime, I'll be nesting in Richard Ayoade's perfect, perfect hair, at least figuratively, and impatiently waiting for the series finale of The IT Crowd, which airs on Channel 4 tomorrow night.
tinhuviel: (Darth Geek)
 photo tumblr_mt8rrzZW6s1qfqs3do1_500.gif
tinhuviel: (Super Sane T)

 photo originalgoth.png

The Veils

Aug. 9th, 2013 07:17 pm
tinhuviel: (Dr. Who Boogie)
Over the last weekend, I was contacted by [livejournal.com profile] voidmonster about an upcoming Veils concert in Los Angeles. We made arrangements, and set the date ~ he, his wife, and I were going to see the band on 8 August at the Troubadour. I wrote Vivienne to let her know I was finally gonna get to see her son in concert, and that I'd let her know how the performance went. She wrote me back to let me know that Finn would be expecting us there.

[livejournal.com profile] voidmonster and the missus came and picked me up a little before 4 PM, and we headed straight away to Los Angeles. It's about a couple hours' drive, and I wasn't sure how the Troubadour handled their "will call" guests, so we opted to get there a little early just in case.

After waiting for a while, we were able to go in and find a comfy spot for the show.

The opening act was pretty good, shows some promise, but I feel they have a long way to go to get to where they have the potential to be. Their set was short, and soon came Finn, Sophia, et al. I meant to make a list of the songs they performed, but I'd left my pen at the house, so shame on me. Suffice to say, the setlist was most excellent, and included two of my favourites by the band, 'Lavinia' and 'Jesus for the Jugular.'

Their performance was flawless, and bled energy and passion. You can tell they all care very much about the music that they're making. I was pleasantly surprised by the horn section in the band now. The only other band, I feel, that could make a logical and creatively wise choice of horns, was Oingo Boingo. So Finn's in some seriously groovy company there, IMHO.

Here's some photos and a movie I shot from the concert last night.

clickie )

After the concert, Zak, Sharon, and I said hi to Finn. I passed the message of "hi" from his parents to him, too. He's a truly sweet fellow. Mum and Dad really could not have done any better than they did. He's a rare talent and good soul. I told him that he was doing very well, and congratulated him on his success to date. I hope he and the band continue to enjoy increased popularity, and the chance to make music for as long as they wish.

[livejournal.com profile] voidmonster and Sharon brought me back to the domicile this morning. Hopefully, we'll be able to get together again and do something almost as awesome as seeing the Veils perform. ;)
tinhuviel: (Default)
 photo ADAMANTIUM.png
tinhuviel: (Dodo)
 photo judgementalgiraffe.png
tinhuviel: (Ren Hoek Humanity)
So we're still at Doug's. It was decided to wait until the sun started to go down and things began to cool off to a more bearable... 100 degrees or so.

I took this picture quite a few hours ago. Can we say Holy Mother of god, boys and girls? Jesus-fucking-Christ!

 photo IMG_1561.jpg

I just got out of the shower. I took a cold one. It was the perfect temperature, since I love really hot showers.

I am not joking.

El Move 6

Jun. 17th, 2013 06:18 pm
tinhuviel: (PSA)
17 June, 2013 Arizona City, Arizona

Tonight we’re staying at one of Jeanne’s friend’s house here in Arizona City. He’s being a host with the most, and is being really cool about the animals. His network connection is free here in the subdivision he lives it, but it’s spotty at best, so I expect it may end up being a very long night.

We actually didn’t travel very far, primarily because the Mother Unit wanted to take a detour and visit Tombstone, Arizona. That took up a good part of the early afternoon.

Thankfully, my camera battery has held up and allowed me to take a load of pics, which will be the body of this entry. I may write more later.

First we came upon some massive hills/mini-mountains and giant rock formations. Seeing this part of the country made the Cadmus Pariah bio chapter, ‘Sui Generis,’ as it takes place in the Arizona portion of the Mojave Desert. Here are the pics I got of them.

lotsa imagery behind here! click with caution! )

El Move 5

Jun. 16th, 2013 05:46 pm
tinhuviel: (Homeland Security)
16 June, 2013 12:15 PM Mountain Time

It’s currently 98 degrees in Clint, Texas. The heat is oppressive to say the least. It’s definitely a different kind of heat than what you have in South Carolina. In SC, you’re boiling in your own juices. In West Texas, you’re baking alive, like a desert potato. I don’t know if there is such a thing as a desert potato, but there is now. I’m a desert potato.

Ironically, potatoes are really the only thing that I’m able to partially keep on my stomach, so I’m holding true to my Celtic roots, it would seem. The Pilot station from a ways back had potato wedges and raspberry tea. Both have been severely tasty. Of course, it’s not like an ice cold Slurpee in my hot hands, but beggars can’t be choosers, and I’m most definitely a beggar on this journey. Honestly, I’m only one step up from jumping a train with my fellow hobos. My only fears are trains (of course) and that I’d probably end up sharing a car with the shoo-fly-shoo hobo from Pee Wee’s Big Adventure.

I already owe the Mother Unit so much money, it’s just not even funny. It was never funny, but now it’s just grim. I’ve already figured that I won’t be able to get a TV until August, if then. Right now, my phone charger is my primary concern. It seems to have stopped working completely, which means my connection to the Internet will be limited to the evenings at hotels until we make it to San Diego. I’m not sure if I can just get a charger or if I’ll have to get a new phone, but it will have to be addressed first thing come July.

I just had my first bowl of menudo. Silly me, I thought it was just a boy band. But apparently it’s also a pork stomach and hominy soup. Pretty tasty, sans the actual pork stomach. And what self-respecting boy band calls themselves Pork Stomach? Really, Menudo, WTF?

And we just passed a lawn and garden place that has for sale life-size cowboy statues and six-foot roosters. Dammit, I would really love to have a gigantic rooster in my room in San Diego. Why? Why not, dammit?

2:00 PM

We’re heading down I-10, west toward Tucson, Arizona. I have nothing against Texas, except for the Bush family, but it’ll be nice to finally see a different state. Texas is just… too big. I can see where they have the mindset of a totally separate country, but I honestly haven’t seen enough people to be able to comprise a sovereign nation. Then again, Vatican City is a nation unto itself, so I guess Texas could be as well, even though it only has like 17 natives. Where the fuck are all the people, Texan friends? Do you hide in desert cubby holes? In oil wells? Where are you, already?!

“People Get Ready” by Jeff Beck and Rod Stewart just came on iTunes. Oh, how I dearly love this song. It was always such an inspiration to me, and became aligned with my Tarmi, though I have no idea why, or how that even happened. The video was also deeply beautiful. Even though it featured trains way more than I am comfortable with, it is still a glorious video. Why can’t music videos like this be made today? What’s wrong with videos that tell or story or have a cinematic flare to them? I don’t see why such videos are so reviled by so many. It makes no sense.

During the time I was writing this, we somehow wondered into Mexico. We’re now at a checkpoint. How the hell did this happen? I’ll have to ask the Mother Unit later. I’m just assuming that I-10 meanders into Mexico, and then meanders back into America. I’ve never been to Mexico. I feel no differently than I did twenty minutes ago. Now…if I could just figure out how to meander into Canada, and not meander back. Dream come true, right there, man!

2:30 PM

We’re nearing Silver City, New Mexico. Sadly, I won’t get to visit Roswell, but I’ll be a lot closer to the Alien Mecca than I ever have been, so may I’ll have a chance in the future to visit. I’d love to visit there and go loiter outside Area 51 in Nevada. It’d be nice to become part of a UFO investigation group that takes trips to the points of interest, and gives the members a chance to film some actual UFOs that may be floating about up there at any given time.

The Mother Unit and Jeanne have just introduced me to the Terran glory that are dust devils. I got some photos, all to the fantastic soundtrack of The Prodigy’s Fat of the Land. Dust devils and The Prodigy go very well together!

4:00 PM

We’re in the middle of the desert and being rained on for the first time since we set out on this journey from the East. I find this highly ironic and poetic.

5:45 PM

We’re in Willcox, Arizona, at another Motel 6. Have some pictures!

”purdy” )

El Move 4

Jun. 15th, 2013 07:58 pm
tinhuviel: (PSA)
15 June, 2013 1:00 PM

We’re somewhere near Abilene, Texas, I think. They turned off the radio, so I pulled out the computer and am listening to my iTunes whilst I write.

Alison Kraus just came on. I never hear her without thinking of Lewis. Even though he was from New Jersey, born and bred, he had a soft spot of Country music, and in particular Alison Kraus’s Bluegrass. I hate Country, but I do love Bluegrass. It’s the closest thing America will ever get to traditional Celtic folk music.

Texas is about as flat as my current attitude! And that’s pretty damned flat. It has an odd beauty about it, though. Everything is really freakin’ low to the ground. I wonder if that’s a result of the kinds of storms Texas is famous for. It’d be nice to encounter one of those storms. I would so pitch a fit to chase it. Hey, I like to take risks sometimes.

I know we’ve passed at least two 7-Elevens. If a third one rears its head early enough, I’m begging to make a Slurpee run. There’s just no two ways about it. Slurpee must be had!

Heh, how ironic that George Thorogood just came on. I’ve always associated him with Texas, though I don’t know why. Him and Stevie Ray Vaughn, may he rest in peace. That reminds me, I wonder if Stevie Ray’s video for ‘Cold Shot’ is on You Tube. That is one funny-ass video!

My battery for the camera just started flashing low, so I’m saving what little juice I have left for Arizona. Gotta get some desert pictures. I can’t believe I left the charger behind in SC! I had it on my mind to remember to get it, but I did I? Hell no. Now, I’m gonna have to wait until July before I can get a replacement charger, and that’s just pissy.

6:45 PM

We’re now in Pecos, Texas, at another Motel 6. I finally got my Slurpee, a cherry one, and it was glorious! We stopped at a place where there were 7-Elevens right across the street from one another. I could have walked from one as I drank my Slurpee, and moseyed over to the other one to buy another Slurpee, ‘cos that’s pretty much what I would do, if I had had the chance.

I didn’t take too many pictures today. Here’s my paltry offering for the eve.

Here’s a picture of Smidgen, who decided that out of her case was actually more pleasant than in it. So my thigh became her fave hangout in the truck today.

 photo IMG_1489.jpg

”more )

Okay, that’s it for this post. I am making a separate, friends-only post because I have some serious ranting to do. If you’re interested, log on, and stay tuned.

El Move 3

Jun. 14th, 2013 07:15 pm
tinhuviel: (Caveman)
14 June, 2013 7:15 PM

We’re now in Terrell, Texas, at another Motel 6.

The Mother Unit and Jeanne just got in from lounging at the pool. You can’t leave pets unattended in the room, so I opted to stay behind. Besides, I have this squick factor that I can’t seem to overcome in regard to public swimming facilities. Plus, I can’t swim, so really why bother, right?

It didn’t turn out to be as unpleasant a day as I expected. One of the things that made it better, much better, was the Mother Unit turning on the radio. I’m hoping that’ll be the case for the remainder of the trip. If not, I do have Pandora on the phone and iTunes on the computer, so I may just shut out the world like that. Ear buds are your friends.

Ugh… I just found out that Jeanne is a biiiiiiig Firefly fan. Well, why wouldn’t she be? There’s only 15 of us on Earth who aren’t. ::rolls eyes::

Sorry, that just happened to be brought up because the Mother Unit turned the channel to Castle.

Anyway, back to the travel journal. It was all pretty much uneventful today. The beasties were very peaceful and the heat wasn’t too very oppressive. I’m actually pretty grateful that we stopped early. I could use the rest and the chance to let my Inner Borg out, here on Teh Intarwebz.

Here are some more photographs. The first two were taken in Shreveport, Louisiana. The rest are from Texas.

 photo IMG_1482.jpg

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El Move 2

Jun. 14th, 2013 07:39 am
tinhuviel: (Ace Ventura)
14 June, 2013 Friday 7:40 AM

We are in Monroe, Louisiana, at a Motel 6. Every child in Louisiana is currently residing in, and playing around the grounds of, this hotel. Obviously, this does not set well with me.

It was a long day, to say the least, but mostly a good one. Apart from Jeanne being a bit irritable, okay a lot irritable at the end of our trip today, it was all good. They’re both engaged in eating some sort of pasta thing from Dominos. As for me, my stomach is still a tad wibbly, so I’m not really eating. If I keep this up, I will have lost ten more pounds by the time I reach California. Then I’m gonna bleach my hair blonde and be one of those skinny California girls I’ve heard about all my life. Yes… I’m joking. I’ll have blonde hair when I’m dead, yo.

So, without further ado, let’s have some photies.

”imagery )
So something tells me that this is going to prove to be a long day. I’m hoping I’m wrong. We’ll see.
tinhuviel: (Ludicrous Speed)
I've been a busy bee as far as manips are concerned. Even though I've still been wrestling with "Feeding the Tree," this has been a comforting distraction of sorts. Hope some of these bring smiles to the faces of some folks.

I saw this image of Barbara Bush on Yahoo, and the first thing I thought of was a velociraptor. Now, you will too.

more behind here ~ one is very naughty, so be aware... )

I'm back to trying to write, as well as collect pictures for the most ambitious video I will ever make. Ta.
tinhuviel: (Roth = Lovely Man)
As Samuel L. says in Jurassic Park, "Hold on to your butts."


More behind the cut. Click at your own risk. )

Now, wasn't that fun?

I have another image I would kill grannies to share, but I don't think I'm allowed, goddammit.
tinhuviel: (Dodo)
tinhuviel: (Roth = Lovely Man)
Not as many this time, but I personally think it's a miracle that I've found so many that I didn't have.

Bebbeh Timmeh straight from the 80s.

more unbelievable sexiness if you dare to click )

And there you have it. Are there more out there? Only The Roth knows for sure...
tinhuviel: (Roth = Lovely Man)
Since my brain was fried first thing this morning, I've pretty much retreated to the Realm of Roth for the rest of the day. And I'm taking anyone here along with me as reward or punishment, you choose. [livejournal.com profile] gunslingaaahhh, don't look.

I believe this one is from the Captives days. That one is one of the more delicious films, as [livejournal.com profile] paisley_daze well knows.

more incomprehensible beauty HERE )

And that is all for now. The flow has slowed down because there aren't any new pictures out there. I actually have 418 files in my Roth folder. I am not bragging. It's more of a Catholic confession. Seriously. I need some sort of fangirl penance.
tinhuviel: (Tim Roth)
Puttin' this here for [livejournal.com profile] paisley_daze, who digs on Gary.

This is apparently something else Gary and Tim have in common; an insane love for their dogs and especially if they're ugly. :/
tinhuviel: (Shriekback Logo)
With a bad bad sense of humour. But I couldn't help it. It's Carl Marsh's fault this time, though. Look at that grin. That's the grin of someone who is about to open the gates of hell.


And there is something phenomenally bizarre about my joking around with Carl and Vivienne, continuing to use the Clive Barker theme. ::meltdown:: hahaha!
tinhuviel: (Tim Roth)
tinhuviel: (Cadmus - Long Hair)
You're waiting for a Ford Escort, a Ford Escort that will take you far away.


You know where you hope this Ford Escort will take you, but you don’t know for sure…..

but it doesn’t matter, because Tom Hardy is driving it and let’s be honest, you didn’t even ask where it was going because you don’t care because it’s TOM HARDY.
tinhuviel: (Cymru)

tinhuviel: (Family Dog)
This was just tweeted by The Roth. I could have spent what little life I have left happy for never having seen this. I swear this man is going to make me start chain-smoking.

That's one of his dogs by the way. He has a whole herd of really ugly fucking dogs.
tinhuviel: (Family Dog)
There's something horribly sinister going on with my pictures.

The pictures that were taken on 16 May 2006, of the meeting in Brighton, are dated in my folder as being taken on 20 April, 2012. A couple of days ago, they had been taken on 10 April, 2012. I'm writing this on 8 April, 2012.


It's freaky that any picture or document, for that matter, would be post-dated like this, but these particular pictures? These pictures?! It doesn't take much to throw me for a complete loop, and this is monumental. What would this mean? That the events documented six years ago have yet to happen?

Actually, this has been going on for a while now. The date keeps changing, jumping forward in time before time as we know it can catch up. Is that moment of time caught up in some hellish Quantum Vortex? Are we repeating this day over and over again, like Bill Murray trapped in Groundhog Day?

I'm not sure I even want to know but, one thing's for sure; I need to know.
tinhuviel: (Roth = Lovely Man)
This is ridiculous, I can't even. So much Rothian Goodness, so little time.

Probably exiting the place after bartending, which he actually does on occasion, just for fun. What is it with this man?

Click at your own risk. Hotness behind this cut. )

By the time I'm finished, everyone is going to cringe when they see Tim Roth or hear his name, 'cos they'll know I'm going to act the fool soon afterward.

B and Finn

Apr. 7th, 2012 10:24 am
tinhuviel: (Barry - Elf)
Pretty pretty pretty grooveh.



Apr. 7th, 2012 08:05 am
tinhuviel: (Roth = Lovely Man)
Tumblr is gonna be the death of me. All these glorious pictures are blowing my mind.

More Rothian goodness to be found hyeah )
tinhuviel: (Default)
Even Franz Kafka would scream bloody murder if he saw this skittering toward him. The Roth should never do this again. It's brutal, creepy, freaky, and insane.


This is...

Apr. 7th, 2012 01:09 am
tinhuviel: (tjb lol)


Apr. 6th, 2012 07:10 pm
tinhuviel: (Flint)
"The Waltham Phantom" is complete! At least the first draft, anyway. Flint survives his encounter with Cadmus, which is nothing short of miraculous, and I survived writing it so that this happens. Cadmus is fairly ticked, and I'd say he'd get over it, but Cadmus holds grudges. He'll demand some souvenirs for his Harming Tree. I won't get off this easy. For now, though, I can let rest my restless rat man, and build upon the next story, this time allowing Cadmus free rein to wreak as much havoc as he wishes.

Sleep now, Flint. You'll be back, of that there is no doubt.
tinhuviel: (Roth = Lovely Man)
I'd give anything to be that cigarette.

I'd give anything to be that leg.

Glasses. I have a glasses fetish. If you wear glasses, I am your slave. That is all.
tinhuviel: (Flint)
This is just too much. When I saw this picture on Tumblr, I had to go have a lie down. *glee*

tinhuviel: (Cadmus Castigation)
Pardon me, I am a tad intoxicated. Why? This is why!

Starling Murmuration and Toroidal Vortices are, by language default, the exclusive realm of Barry Andrews...or at least they should be.

But noooooooo... Murmuration apparently appears in profound ways in the movie Skellig...and I saw it like a day after I made the Illuminati video for 'Walking on the Wind,' aaaaannndddd toroidal vortices, the focus I made for 'Sea Theory' the pre-Shriek alternate version by Barry Andrews, are also called smoke rings, which can be seen HERE, being made by Tim Roth.

The very phrase, TOROIDAL VORTICES, belongs to the realm of Andrews. How could it not?

Is it any wonder why Cadmus wants to wipe the Earth clean of Flint? Hell, I want to! It's fucking my shit up, these connections. Stop it already.
tinhuviel: (Roth = Lovely Man)
Tumblr is giving an endless variety of Rothian Goodness. There's a tribe of individuals over there who have befriended the Tutorials, and subsequently share with me all manner of drool-worthy photies. This is a photo dump, for anyone who may be interested. If you aren't, well I am. My journal, my rules. BAAHHAHA!

At least I'm putting all this insane sexiness behind a cut, except for the picture that has become my ultimate favourite photie of The Roth. I am a sucker for a man in makeup. I'm a child of the 80s, it's kind of a requirement. If you were a male, and from Britain, you wore makeup. It was decreed by god. Even the Shrieks did it. Just look at Nemesis.


Dear Lord, ain't he pretty? Now for the rest.

I could be really evil, and NOT cut this gigantic entry )

Now...was that not majorly intense? I think I need one of Roth's cigarettes now. WHEW!


Mar. 31st, 2012 12:28 pm
tinhuviel: (Dave)
I have three photos. One is just beyond cute, one is another dead tree, and one is just pathetic.

clickie dammit! )

I'm out of my head from exhaustion. As it stands now, I have been away 29.5 hours...and counting. I think I might be going mad. Have a nice day.


Mar. 31st, 2012 12:27 am
tinhuviel: (Family Dog)
This is pretty much me all the time, these days.

appropriate rage face )
tinhuviel: (Tim Roth)

A few years ago in a random survey among friends on the general ‘appeal’ of Tim Roth, one ventured the following theory: “He looks like he’d be really filthy in bed.”

“Ho, ho,” we hooted and added absolutely nothing at all, because we just knew that Tim Roth, in his films, is a Bad Man with pervy eyes and the steadiest hand on the warmest gun; a charismatic man’s man who definitely Does It in lifts and in your mother’s kitchen while she’s trying to talk to you about your grandmother’s sheltered housing plans through the serving hatch. In real life he’s a small man with a big nose and we all know what that means, don’t we?

Later, in an interview, I put my friend’s theories concerning filth in general, and his filth in particular, to tiny Tim Roth. He looked up from his hotel sofa (he really is that small) and said, “Tell your friend she might be right about that one. Eheheheheheh”.

tinhuviel: (Barry Interview)
There came a bad storm, so I had to stay at home with the frightened-out-of-their-wits beasties. I'll be going to see Diane tomorrow. In the meantime, I came across this ridiculousness and decided to have some fun. This is what I came up with. Does it fit? You be the judge. And go make your own, why don't you?


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