The work you do to keep the fannish infrastructure going--Leviathan, Firefly background, BFA, 1/2 of PolyRecs--amazes and awes me. I'm so glad you're there.
Word, word, word. With a Wrod on top. Not to mention Exodus from Genesis, the new Farscape Primer site, hosting me & several other people, doing Buffy and Firefly transcripts, and her own writing.
Shrift rocks mightily. She Getteth Shit Done without tantrums or needing to have her ego stroked and reassured constantly.
And she is running the banner ad campaign for SF.com, for which she gets several 'goodonners' and a basket of baked goods if I ever get around to sending them. Or, you know, my garage, should she choose to move to SF and need a place to crash/store shit.
t considering announcing today "appreciate Shrift Day" and wondering if anyone would comply if I did...
considering announcing today "appreciate Shrift Day" and wondering if anyone would comply if I did...
t hand shoots up
'Cause she also does the script site, the BRQG, a Hard Core Logo archive, and when I say crazy things like, "Hey! We should have a thing on the front page of Bifictional Bedlam where you get a random banner every time you hit it!", she figures out how to do it.
Not to mention Let's Objectify Men, which should never ever be forgotten.
puts hand up for shrift-love
AND she looks great in pleather pants.
Yep. I say that it should be a weekly holiday.
With booze.
And slash.
Shrift Day. I think about declaring one every time I read a Buffy script.
Or look into my new-fic email inbox, which is where the BFA list directs too.
You know, shrift, I owe you a feedback for 'Phallus in Pigtails' which I loved, and which addressed several major problems I had with the movie (which I did
not
enjoy; and which Trudy tells me is practically a documentary about Frat Boys), and in which I could see MR (who was the only thing that made refrain from leaving the room when the movie was playing)... But I'll write you that feedback.
t cranky
Holy motherfucking badfic, Batman.
Afterward, they stood in silent communion,
acknowledging each new woman who joined them. When the
fourteenth woman arrived, Buffy took a closer look.
"You're Nikki, aren't you?"
She smiled and said, in New York accent, "That I am,
Blondie. Heard you were doin' the deed with the nasty
that got me."
Buffy didn't, for a change, blush or feel guilty.
Truth was truth. "Yeah. He's changed--at first it was
the chip, but now he has a soul. He feels bad about
what he did to you."
Also, apparently Principal McHottie is Nikki's son. I mean, I think. Or maybe it was supposed to be Forrest? There aren't that many black male characters Buffy could call up in her mind at a moment's notice, and those make about equal sense.
