I'd consider following Christ if he was on Twitter

[wizened_cynic]

Okay, people, BEST FIC MEME EVER.

1. Pick a card on someecards.com. Any card.

2. I will write something for you based on that e-card. I pick the pairing/characters, so you may end up with Alex/Lorelai, or you may end up with Ben babysitting drunk!Stephanie, or you may end up with CHAD. Isn't that delightful? (If anything with Chad can ever be delightful.)

Okay? DO IT DO IT DO IT.

I promise to actually write for the prompts this time.



Give me something to do while I wait for Canadian SVU and Parenthood?

ALSO, PLEASE VOTE FOR LORELAI GILMORE. I love Bones, but THERE IS NO CONTEST. A VOTE FOR LORELAI IS A VOTE FOR SHINY HAIR AND AWESOME BOOBS, WHICH I JUST REALIZED ALSO APPLIES TO BONES, BUT LET'S JUST OVERLOOK THAT FOR A MOMENT AND CONCENTRATE ON VOTING FOR LORELAI. KTHXBAI.

Comments

[mcdoh1902.livejournal.com]

YOU MUST BE SO DESPERATE (FOR VOTES AND PROMPTS).

Here you go!

http://www.someecards.com/confession-cards/id-rather-have-my-head
http://www.someecards.com/confession-cards/if-prepared-just-right-id-make-love
http://www.someecards.com/confession-cards/if-i-were-an-animal-id-eat-vegetarians

[wizened-cynic.livejournal.com]

I decided to go with the second one.

*

Somehow they all end up in Ben's trailer while they wait for the snow to let up so they can continue shooting. Usually it's Stephanie's trailer they crash, since it contains the most booze, but Stephanie doesn't have any scenes today so it's up to Ben to entertain his co-stars.

"I have a six-pack and half a bag of Cheez Doodles," Ben says, after canvassing his trailer for sustenance.

"I miss Stephanie." Sophia sighs quietly, leaning against Alona's shoulder.

"I miss that silver tequila shit Stephanie gets across the border," Alona says.

"I have Gummi Bears?" Ben offers hopefully, finding a plastic baggie of candy that the seven-year-old "victim" from yesterday had given him.

Alona has an idea to soak the bears in beer and then shove a Cheez Doodle between two bears to make some sort of beer-infused gummi-bear-and-Cheez-Doodle sandwich. The result is disgusting and sort of tastes like what SVU must feel like to most of its viewers, but it occupies a good fifteen minutes and gives Sophia something to twitter about.

But the gummy bears run out and the PA tells them it'll be another half hour or so until they're ready, so they're back where they started.

"Let's play the Game," Sophia suggests.

"What game?" Ben asks.

"I thought we're supposed to be drunk when we play the Game," says Alona.

"Extenuating circumstances," says Sophia. "I'll start."

"Wait, what?" Ben asks, confused and mostly annoyed that he'd provided them with gummi bears to infuse with beer and in return the girls had kept him in the dark about whatever this stupid game is going to be.

"You'll catch on," Alona says, grinning. "I hope."

"A toaster," Sophia says.

"Ow." Alona thinks. "Okay, a tree. But not just any tree. A tree that is on the verge of extinction and he's an environmental studies major with a pill addiction."

"Complicated, and slightly disturbing," Sophia remarks.

"Slightly?" Ben still has no idea what is going on.

"A burrito," Sophia says. "But only if it's prepared properly. Bonus points if there is an eating disorder involved."

"Taxidermied --- is taxidermied a word? I don't care --- taxidermied animals."

"What do you think, Ben?" Sophia asks. "You ready for your turn?"

Ben rolls his eyes. He figured it out as soon as Sophia mentioned the eating disorder.

"Cake," he says. "Baked goods in general, but with a preference for cake. May or may not be due to the adverse influence of teen movies."

Grinning, Sophia glances at Ben and then back at Alona. "He catches on fast."

"Does this game have a name?" Ben asks.

"Yes," Alona answers. "It's called Name an Inanimate Object That Someone Will Have Sex With in a Future Episode, or NIOTSWHSWFE."

"Usually we just call it 'What's the Hell is Wrong with Neal,'" Sophia explains.

Ben nods. "Got it."

[http://users.livejournal.com/thrace_/]

[wizened-cynic.livejournal.com]

Fishkeeper 'Verse (http://wizened-cynic.livejournal.com/277273.html#cutid1). It just worked out that way, okay?

*

Alex was picking snails out of the fish tank when someone knocked on the door. "I'll get it," Lorelai said, then hopped over a chair, crawled under the ironing board, and kicked her futon aside to open the door.

The man introduced himself as Jesus Christ Esposito.

"You're Jesus?" Lorelai asked, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the guy in question was seven feet tall, had a long, curved scar on his right cheek, and proudly displayed at least half a dozen prison tattoos on his forearms. "Awesome. Next time someone asks, I'm going to tell them I've already found you, thank you very much."

Jesus Christ Esposito remained poised. Alex contemplated whether to dial 911. Then she noticed the flowers he was holding and decided that she probably should dial 911. She wondered if she could discreetly unjam the window to the fire escape and make the call outside, since Lorelai's building managed to have the shittiest cellphone reception in all of Manhattan.

"These are for you," Jesus finally said, handing Lorelai the bouquet of slightly wilted daisies. "I just moved in next door. Thought I'd make myself known 'round these parts, you know what I mean?"

Lorelai brightened at the sight of the flowers. "Ooooh, thank you! I don't have anything for you though. I feel like I should give you a tuna casserole or something, since you just moved in, and that's what people do, right? They bring casserole? Although I never understood why it had to be a casserole. I don't even own a casserole dish, and, like, why tuna? Who likes tuna? Are there people who like tuna? Because I don't think tuna really sends a friendly, welcome-to-the-neighborhood kind of message, do you? In fact, I think tuna sends the exact opposite message, like, 'Here's a plate of something disgusting that smells a lot like cat food, this is how much we want you here living next door to us.' Do you like tuna?"

"No," replied Jesus Christ Esposito, looking uncomfortable. "I have some more boxes to unpack." He paused. "Now, sweetheart, if someone comes around asking, you be sure to tell him I told you I moved in, all right?"

He nodded to Alex and went back back into his apartment. Lorelai closed the door, still delighted by the flowers that the recently paroled convict had brought over.

"How can you be sure that he's an ex-con?" Lorelai asked, arranging the daisies in a skull-shaped bong that the previous tenant had left behind. "You shouldn't judge a person by his tattoos. Plus his name is Jesus Christ. "

"Lorelai, it says right here on this website that the Messiah was recently paroled after spending nine years in Attica for," Alex lowered her voice into a whisper for the last part, "raping an fourteen-year-old boy. You have to move!"

"Oh. Wow." Lorelai studied the screen intently, and then said, "That is not a good picture of him."

"Did you catch the part where I mentioned how you have got to move?"

"I think you're overreacting a little, Alex. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a 14-year-old boy. So I think I'm safe. Also in case you haven't noticed, I can't afford to live anywhere else except maybe on the street. I wouldn't do well on the street. It's cold and there's no cable."

"You know who doesn't live next door to an ex-con?" Alex asked.

"President Obama," Lorelai answered.

"Me."

"You're President Obama? Wow, President Obama and Jesus Christ all in one day! I should buy the lottery or something."

"There is room in my apartment," Alex said, and then, because she didn't want to sound too desperate, "But not a lot of room."

"You'd make a great real estate agent."

"Enough room for one other person. And maybe even the other person's extensive and mediocre DVD collection."

"Alex." Lorelai was trying to keep a straight face but Alex could see the laughter in her eyes. Alex felt like an idiot, which she was getting used to. With Lorelai, she almost always felt simultaneously idiotic yet morally superior. "Are you asking me to move in with you?"

"I wouldn't want you to get BTK-ed by Jesus Christ," Alex said.

"Amen," Lorelai said, and moved in to kiss her.

[mayireadtoday.livejournal.com]

(http://www.someecards.com/card/662)

Yes, I voted for Lorelai. Why is Gilmore Girls in the drama section? Wasn't it a comedy?

[wizened-cynic.livejournal.com]

YOU ARE MY NEW BEST FAVORITE. UNLIKE SOME PEOPLE WHO SOLD ME DOWN THE RIVER AFTER I SHOWED CONCERN FOR THEIR CAT.

AND SINCE YOU ARE MY NEW BEST FAVORITE, I WILL WORK ON YOUR PROMPT ASAP. THERE.

[wizened-cynic.livejournal.com]

Admittedly, sometimes Lorelai tends to pick a random fight with Claire simply because the makeup sex is so awesome, but this is one of those times where the fight is actually grounded in merit. As in, the only form of communication in the next few days will be through angry Post Its on the refrigerator door and Miss Patty or Babette begging them to patch things up because it's upsetting Kirk too much.

"I understand that you're mad at me," Claire says, interrupting Lorelai's vision of her future self (future by 24 hours) telling Kirk to get a saline drip because those tears are going to keep on flowing.

"I'm not mad at you," Lorelai says. "And by the way, that was not an apology."

"Well, if you're not mad at me, then why should I apologize?"

"FINE," says Lorelai, as close to yelling as she can get without actually yelling, because whoever yells first loses, "I'm mad at you, are you happy? I'm so freaking mad at you that I should make you live in a box."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"That's what Joey did to Chandler until he understood his reasons, and they were threefold!"

They stop at a red light, and Claire turns around to glare at her. "I am not in the mood for this, Lorelai. I'm sorry that I couldn't make it to Friday Night Dinner, but I had the longest, most frustrating day at work and no, I could not leave a few minutes early because I had to tell Steele that he has to make a deal with an algebra teacher who's been pimping out his ninth graders. Yes, he had a hissy fit about it. He's like a toddler with anger management issues."

"All toddlers have anger management issues."

Claire rolls her eyes. "I stand corrected."

They can breathe easier now, Lorelai's not sure if it's because they've actually rolled down the windows.

"I hate your job," Lorelai says at last. She waits for Claire to admit that Claire hates her job too, but it doesn't happen.

They drive in silence, until they reach their exit and Claire says, "I talked to Jack about transferring to Appeals."

"I don't know what that means."

"That's from Bones," Claire points out, and Lorelai has to smile.

"You do pay attention!"

"I'm full of surprises."

"But none of them involves a pony, which suddenly sounds really dirty in my head but I'm still mad at you, so let's not go there. For now."

"Look, I can't promise you I'll make it to every Friday Night Dinner," Claire says. "There will be days when I have to work late, and there will be other days, when I really don't want to deal with your mother."

"Totally with you on the second part."

"But I'll try my hardest to make it there and then pretend to be having a good time. This is the best I can do."

"Well," Lorelai says, "you don't have to pretend to have a good time. I don't."

"Yes, well." Claire was quiet.

"Did I just make you speechless?" Lorelai asks, her astonishment growing.

"I'm tired."

"I just made you, Miss Big Shot McProsecuty Lawyer, speechless."

"McProsecuty Lawyer?"

"I like adjectives. And fast food. And I just realized that McProsecuty sounds like McProse-cutie. Which is hilarious and completely mockable."

"Since I'm now hilarious and completely mockable, does that mean I'm forgiven?"

"There is ample precedent that's how things go around here," says Lorelai, who's starting to feel like a jerk. Mostly justified, but still a jerk.

"You pay attention too," Claire notes, impressed.

"I do, even though I hate your job. But you know what I hate even more than your job? Fighting with you over your job. Because fighting totally cuts into time which we could be using to have sex."

"You're overlooking the point that fighting makes the sex so much better, which I'm assuming is why you constantly pick those stupid fights with me."

"There is nothing stupid about the injustice of you not letting me use both TiVos to tape Wizards of Waverly Place and Dexter."

"I was merely suggesting that you could delete a few episodes after you've seen them."

"But then I wouldn't have the complete season forever enshrined and available for my viewing pleasure whenever I feel like it."

"Why are we still discussing this?!"

Yeah, the makeup sex is going to be awesome.

[kennedyismyhero.livejournal.com]

 It's been too long...so I politely request this: 



or this: 

[wizened-cynic.livejournal.com]

It's really been a while. How are things going with you?

*

(This is a random AU in which Alex is the meanest candy-striper in the world.)

The nurse in charge had suggested that it would be nice if Alex could show a little empathy, but Alex found it exceedingly difficult to do so, considering how many of the patients were only in the hospital because of their own epic stupidity.

"This one's going to make a great doctor," Nurse Espinoza said to her friend, the Fat One Who Loves Jesus. To Alex, she said, "Head over to Pediatrics. They need someone to hand out more crayons. Ralphie's been eating them again."

If there was anything Alex hated more than sick people, it was sick kids. They were loud and whiny and insistent on touching everything and some of them probably had the plague.

Crayons were distributed to each bed with a stern warning that they were not food and Alex assumed she was done for the day when someone at the end of the room heckled.

"Hey, you forgot my crayons."

Alex stared at the girl, who, in addition to having two broken arms, also happened to be Alex's age. "You want crayons?"

"You gave them to everyone else."

"You have two broken arms. And you're sixteen."

"Fifteen and three-quarters, and my wrist can still take a bit of action."

Alex decided she didn't care enough to argue. "Go crazy," she added, placing several Crayolas on the table. She glanced at the girl's chart long enough to find out her name was Lorelai Gilmore.

She was about to leave when she heard something fall, and then Lorelai was calling for her. "Candy Striper, can you pick that up for me?"

Alex rolled her eyes and walked back to Lorelai's bed. She picked up the stray crayon and placed it back on the table. "Anything else?"

"How about a smile?" Lorelai asked gleefully.

Alex made sure none of the other kids were looking and then gave her the finger.

She was less than two feet away when she heard an exaggerated, "Oops! Dropped it again! Hey, Candy Striper, can you ---"

Alex walked back, picked up the crayon, tried very hard not to slam it onto the table, and turned around only in time for the crayon to fall right at her feet. Lorelai was grinning so hard her face might break, and if that happened, Alex was sure as hell not going to page anybody.

"What is wrong with you?" Alex snapped.

"There are many things wrong with me," Lorelai answered soberly. "It could take a while. For starters, I genuinely enjoy any activity in which you bend over."

Alex blinked. And then, because she had no idea how to react to being hit on by obnoxious girls with broken arms who like to cause her pain, she grabbed all the crayons away from Lorelai and stomped out of the room.

She was halfway down the hall and could still hear Lorelai yelling, "Snack time is in an hour! I'll see you then."

[glitterberrys.livejournal.com]

this makes me miss having an audience to write for. jesus, so much fun. i'll find a really good one.

[glitterberrys.livejournal.com]

meh. i found a mediocre one that's likely to result in fic i want to read instead.

[wizened-cynic.livejournal.com]

I really wanted to write Temperance Brennan for this, but then I remembered I really don't know how to write Temperance Brennan. (Side note: Temperance is starting to seem like a legit name to me after typing it so many times.) So instead, you get a future timestamp for the bun_in_oven universe. Did you even read that fic? I don't remember.

*

Deep down, Alex knows that she and her daughter will never have what Lorelai and Rory have, and for the most part, she's fine with it. She believes in boundaries, a concept that unfortunately seems to elude everyone else in Stars Hollow, and that parents should be parents, not friends.

Still, it kills her a little that Gracie will always like Lorelai better.

"You're being irrational," Huang says, which is an obvious conclusion, evidenced by the very fact that she's talking to him about this. She doesn't have enough time to see a therapist, which is fine because she doesn't believe in therapy, and what little time she has she should be spending with her child anyway.

"Everyone likes Lorelai better." It sounds pettier when she says it out loud, but it's the truth.

What she doesn't say is that Lorelai has two kids, and Alex only has one. Alex carried Gracie for nine months and nursed her until her maternity leave ended. It should only be fair that Gracie likes Alex just as much, if not slightly more, than Lorelai.

"She's going to be the cool mom," Alex continues, ignoring the careful, analytical way Huang is studying her. "She's going to be the one Gracie wants to talk to. I'll just be the one who asks her if she's started studying for the SATs yet."

She doesn't want to be relegated to that position, but it seems inevitable. She's not good with babies or small children unless it involves prepping them for the stand or removing them to foster care. Alex doesn't even like kids; she likes her own, of course, but kids in general make her nervous.

"The relationship between parent and child is a complicated one."

Sometimes it frightens her how often Huang is called to be an expert witness.

"I'm sure you and your mother had a relationship that was different from the one you had with your father. Maybe there was something you two shared, or bonded over, that you didn't have with your father. It doesn't mean you love your father any less, and the same applies vice versa."

Huang might be the least helpful psychiatrist in the city, but Alex feels a little better hearing him say it.

"Don't overthink it, Alex," Huang says. "You're going to be a great mother."

Alex smiles, not believing him entirely.

That night she engages in the world's longest peek-a-boo session with Gracie, who gurgles happily whenever Alex appears behind the arm of the sofa. How did I end up like this, Alex wondered to herself, desperate for the attention of a tiny person who doesn't even have teeth?

"You don't have to like me better," she whispers to the baby as she picks her up for a fresh change of clothes. Excessive laughter in infants cause projectile vomiting. It's almost insulting that Alex is craving the approval of someone who has just demonstrated it.

"You just have to like me as much as you like her. I mean, I get it. I really like her too. She has her merits," she concedes as Gracie makes a grab for her glasses, "but I can get you to pass the bar on your first try."

[nike-ravus.livejournal.com]

I voted for Lorelai! (Although I find it amusing that all of the campaign posters are like "even though she doesn't carry a gun," and I'm like, "dude, just think about what you said, Lorelai with a gun is the most terrifying prospect ever!") And Fishkeeper-verse! OMFFFG!

THIRD EDIT. sorry!

[wizened-cynic.livejournal.com]

Thanks for voting for Lorelai like a decent human being would, unlike SOMEBODY who voted for BONES even after I asked her to vote for Lorelai and in fact drew her attention to the Fandom March Madness in the first place. You know what I do to people like that? I VOTE FOR SHELDON COOPER OUT OF SPITE.

Anyway. You get Criminal Minds RPF AU, just for that.


*

Each person in the office has their own special thing. That's just how the universe works.

For example, Kristin's thing is knitting behind the front desk when she thinks no one's looking. Gibson's thing is complaining about never getting home to see his wife and kids. Matthew's thing is drawing weird cartoon figures of people, Joe's thing is having a dubious connection to the Mafia, and Shemar's thing is being black.

A.J.'s thing is being competent at her job, which makes her considerably less interesting than her co-workers but also indispensable to workplace productivity.

Paget has only been at the office for two weeks, which is usually too soon to tell what exactly her thing is. At first they thought it might be Dressing Like a Slut, but on her third day she showed up in pajama pants and a Northwestern hoodie and took a four-hour lunch break, so they reconsidered and concluded that her thing was Actively Trying to Get Fired. She then celebrated her first week by stealing all the toilet paper in the entire building, and on the tenth day, she came into work announcing that she had just flashed her boobs at the falafel guy from downstairs.

"It was for a good cause," she explained.

"MADD?" Matthew suggested.

"No, I got a free falafel."

After two weeks, it's become evident to A.J. that Paget's thing is to be cantankerous, inappropriate, self-destructive, impossibly and inexplicably attractive, and (hopefully) single.

Paget manages to arrive on time for her fifteenth day, which confuses everybody and turns their morning routine into utter chaos.

"I'm so sorry, honey," Kristin says apologetically. "We forgot your bagel."

"Because you're never here this early," Matthew says.

Joe pats his arm patiently and reminds him about trying harder to pick up on social cues.

"Here," A.J. says, before any of her co-workers can make the situation even more awkward. "You can have mine. I've got a coffee, so I'm good."

"Thank you!" Paget smiles winningly as she takes the bagel from A.J. Their fingers touch for a second, and A.J. is suddenly, unequivocally convinced that she is going to die. There is no way her heart can beat that fast without going into cardiac arrest. She's seen it on House.

Fortunately, Matthew manages to distract her out of her tachychardia. "Your face is turning really red," he comments thoughtfully. "You are possibly having a stroke or you may be sexually aroused."

"Shut up, Matthew," says A.J.

They go back to work as if nothing has happened. Around eleven, Paget appears at A.J.'s desk and asks, "Do you want to have lunch? I know this place where they serve drinks in these containers that look like severed heads."

"Severed heads?"

"They're not creepy, I swear. And the gnocchi is really good."

"Um, okay," A.J. hears herself saying, even though the rational part of her realizes that this is a terrible idea, because 1.) Paget is crazy, 2.) A.J. has made a pact with herself after Lola that she isn't going to be attracted to crazy anymore, 3.) having lunch with Paget, who is crazy, will not help A.J. in becoming less attracted to Paget, who is crazy, and 4.) severed heads? Really? Did A.J. learn nothing from Lola?

"Cool. I'll make a reservation."

No sooner has Paget disappeared into her cubicle when Bernero marches out of the elevator and shouts, "WHO STOLE ALL THE LIGHTBULBS FROM THE SIXTH FLOOR?"

A.J. is so screwed.

[(Anonymous)]

Found one you can hopefully use:

http://www.someecards.com/flirting-cards/if-i-was-your-coworker-id

[alcrackfest.livejournal.com]

Oops, that was me. Forgot to log in.

[metalphoenix.livejournal.com]

[wizened-cynic.livejournal.com]

I picked this one instead:



Chad loves gay people. He doesn't love gay people like gay people love gay people, but he loves them enough to welcome them into his entourage with open arms and sparkly pink buttplugs.

"You really didn't have to, bro," Jensen says when he opens his WELCOME TO CHAD'S ENTOURAGE, BITCH! present. "It's . . . just what I wanted."

Chad points to him and then to the Jay-man. "Got you two a matching set. Who's your BFF for life now, bitches?"

Jared smiles weakly. Jensen just raises his eyebrows.

[aygul.livejournal.com]

or



I like this meme. I'd post it myself if I was confident I'd be able answer any prompts.

[wizened-cynic.livejournal.com]

The first one is just begging for Chad, and so I give you Alex/Lauren. Now with bonus Chinese New Year!

*

The good news is that Lauren has already met Chad, and Chad's really as bad as it gets. The bad news is that Lauren has met Chad, and he's Chad.

"You really don't have to come," Alex tells her as the bright neon sign of the Shanghai Orchid comes into sight. "Seriously, we can still leave right now if you want to. Well, you can. I have to show up because Chad's weirdly serious about his annual Chinese New Year banquet." It's probably the only thing Chad is serious about, other than his penis.

Lauren does not do a good job of pretending she's not laughing at Alex. "You're talking really fast," she says, clearly amused by Alex's suffering. "Have you been watching my show?"

"I figure I should know who your TV daughter is when Chad accuses us of having a threesome without telling him and then breaks into my apartment next week to install hidden cameras."

"Who else is going to be at this shindig?"

"Jared. You already know Jared, right?"

"I had a threesome with him and Alexis." Lauren bursts into demented, gleeful laughter at Alex's reaction. "And you're worried about me? I've known Chad for years. My brain's built up some sort of immunity."

"Well, then there's Misha."

Alex is acutely aware that she needs to start having friends of her own.

Well, she has Lauren now, Alex notes as they reach the banquet room where Chad is commenting for the umpteenth time on the roasted whole suckling pig that he has ordered, which is "none of that frozen shit, yo, it's gonna be yanked straight from its mother's tit and shoved into an oven until it's crispy."

It's a start.

[madcap-shiny.livejournal.com]

[wizened-cynic.livejournal.com]

Alex didn't realize how much television she was used to watching until she moved back to New York. She had made a list of shows she wanted to record so that, in the rare event that should Lorelai ever spoke to her again, she could be up to date on the personal lives of fictitious characters that Lorelai was so concerned about.

The cable guy didn't seem too surprised to see that she had three different television sets in her two-bedroom apartment. He set up a Tivo for each set, thanked Alex for her generous tip, and told her to enjoy her One Tree Hill.

"That Brooke chick is so hot," he told her sincerely as she closed the door behind him.

In spite of her best efforts, Alex couldn't manage to keep up with her (Lorelai's) shows. Apparently every single person who worked for her suffered from gross incompetence as well as an inability to follow simple instructions. Between covering their asses and dealing with her own workload, she rarely had the time to sit down and watch whatever she'd recorded.

As the weeks passed and she grew accustomed to her new position at the DA's office, Alex found herself lagging behind. She could overhear Rossi and Finn talking about Seth and Ryan, but she could no longer follow what was going on. Her Tivos grew full and stopped recording new episodes.

She was drifting further and further away from her other life.

When the Break finally ended (that was what Miss Patty and the others called it), Lorelai took it upon herself to put the poor Tivos out of their misery. She deleted everything with one press of a button and Alex could swear the machines whirred quietly in gratitude.

"I didn't get to watch any of it!" Alex protested.

"There, there," Lorelai reassured her. "It was, like, 90% crap. I'm doing you a favor, Claire, by not letting you watch it. I'm preserving what remains of your virtue."

"You're going to tell me everything yourself, aren't you?"

"With added commentary on hair and clothes and maybe even physical re-enactments with sock puppets!"

"Oh, god," Alex said, but she was smiling, and she hadn't yelled at anybody at her office all day.

"Get comfortable, Claire," Lorelai said, resting her feet on the coffee table and knocking over two of Alex's casefiles in the process. "It's going to take a while."

Hopefully one of these might float your boat...

[propter-hoc.livejournal.com]

http://www.someecards.com/workplace-cards/lets-boost-office-morale-by-going-out-to-drink-and-complain-about-office-morale

or

http://www.someecards.com/cry-for-help-cards/i-try-to-allocate-a-significant-portion-of-my-paycheck

or

http://www.someecards.com/cry-for-help-cards/rampant-porn-use-has-left-my-computer-and-soul-in-ruins

Re: Hopefully one of these might float your boat...

[wizened-cynic.livejournal.com]

#3 screamed Chad to me. I'm so sorry. (Also, different universe from the regular Chad + Alex/Lauren one?)

*

Alex learns the hard way never to leave Chad alone with her computer, not even for a second.

She's had her new laptop for less than ten days when popups start devouring her browser. Within a week, the entire operating system is dead and the machine lets out a tortured beep whenever she tries to turn it on.

In a way, it's kind of amazing that Chad managed to bypass the five hundred different types of security software Alex had installed and download four gigs of malware-ridden porn in the time it took for her to pay the pizza delivery boy.

"That's right, bitches!" Chad crows over the phone. "I'm a fucking mad genius when it comes to porn!"

"You're paying to get this computer fixed, fucking mad genius," Alex tells him, to which he cheerfully agrees.

"I'd love to talk longer but some motherfucker just cut in front of me and now I have to equalize him!" he shouts before the line goes dead.

The store has guaranteed to send a technician over if anything goes wrong within the first 30 days. Alex has to call Customer Service in order to arrange for that to happen, and it takes an hour and lots of pressing of random numbers before she finally hears a human voice on the other end.

"Good afternoon! My name is Lorelai, how can I help you?"

"My computer is dead."

"Did you try CPR?" When Alex doesn't laugh, Lorelai continues, "Okay, that one's not going in my routine. May I know your name and where you purchased your computer?"

Alex gives her the required information. A few clicks of the keyboard later, Lorelai says, "All righty, let's see: we have your address on file, so we can arrange for somebody to come over and take a look at your computer. Can you briefly tell me when your computer stopped working and what you were doing when it happened? I mean, you weren't looking at porn, were you?"

The ensuing pause is long and awkward.

"Well, okay," Lorelai says brightly, after a poor attempt at stifling her laughter. "Don't worry about it. You won't believe how often these things happen."

"I had a firewall," Alex says desperately. "Like, twelve of them."

"I hope it was good porn at least. I like the ones with an actual storyline, and once, I saw this one where they were filming on location at an actual hotel or something, and the room had these curtains I would die for."

"I'm sorry," Alex says incredulously, "are you talking to me about porn?"

"It's entirely job-related," Lorelai says. "All right, ma'am, our technician will arrive tomorrow morning at 10 a.m. Thank you, and please call back if you have any other questions or concerns."

When Alex answers the door the following morning, there is a mousy-looking man wearing a baseball cap with the company's logo, and standing next to him is a leggy brunette with blue eyes and an all-too familiar voice.

"So," she asks, so pretty that Alex is momentarily distracted from her own humiliation, "where's the porn?"

[mcdoh1902.livejournal.com]

I am bored, terribly nervous about moving out, and I am bored. Therefore, I am going on a tear through your old fic.

It's awesome.

[wizened-cynic.livejournal.com]

Thanks, Stemmy Cell. My fic is going to miss the high school you. The college you will probably be too busy to reread my fic and my fic will be all sad and unloved and cry itself to sleep.

So, have you started planning your next trip to HK yet?