No theme or reason.

( Behind the cut, eight videos. )

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Well, that's long overdue.

LJ has experienced--or maybe is experiencing, depending on who you ask--a security breach that is randomly giving people access to other people's private or locked entries, or sometimes logging them in as other users. eruthros has the details here.

FUN TIMES.

At this point, I will be deleting all my LJ posts, and I will not be cross-posting locked entries anymore.

You can follow me at girlpearl.dreamwidth.org if you have a DW account, or by logging in with OpenID (which you already have if you have an LJ). If you or someone you know would like a DW account and don't have one, I have a handful of invite codes, and I know Sam is hosting a codefest on his LJ.

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Songs for the moment:

( Behind the cut, five videos. )

keep running

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Providing more evidence for our theory that San Antonio doesn't know fun, there is nearly no video from that show. If you want to see the red suit, though, it's ( here )

And here's some stuff from Austin last night up already, including Run Dry:
( Read more... )

I'm not posting many Panic videos because quite frankly, the focus of the camera is always in the wrong place, plus I am dead tired of the Ryan Ross Therapy Hour (it is seriously creepy that they still play Camisado). They were pretty awesome, though, even with Brendon still being obviously a bit ravaged by illness.

What you really need to be watching, though, when you watch Panic play, is this shit right here:
( Read more... )

I can't find video of Foxy Shazam doing Unstoppable, and that's all I really want to post of them, so.

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Tonight I am putting together icons for Mel based on the artwork from this AskPartyPoison post.

Because my mother was a hippie, with little sense of what media was appropriate for kids, I have had this damn song stuck in my head all night:



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1. Patrick Stump:



2. Brendon Urie:



(with bonus "Dallon Weekes how are you real" action)

Prompted by my failure to be properly excited for our MCR show, Mel started an advent about a week before, posting new pictures each day. For the Patrick/Panic shows, we started the advent at 19 sleeps, and are now down to 7.

My level of excite: it is appropriate.

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I still have too many feels to talk about the MCR concert (ALTHOUGH IT WAS EVERYTHING I DREAMED IT WOULD BE) so instead I want to talk about a thing that people do to me that makes me absolutely incandescent with rage.

People of the internet, let me ask this of you: when I tell you no? HEAR ME.

This is a conversation I have from time to time:

Friend: "Oh, here is a thing I want you to read/watch/eat/listen to/wear/date/move to!"
Me: "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't want that because $reason."
Friend: "Oh, but $reason I think you should want it anyway!"
Me: "No... I understand... but I really don't want it. I've put a lot of thought into this--"
Friend: "But $reason I think you should want it anyway!"
Me (inside): "HULK SMAAAAASH." Me (outside, through gritted teeth): "No... thank you... I don't..."
Friend: "Here, read/watch/eat/listen to/wear/date/move to it!"
Me: "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK."

I never, ever want to have this conversation again.

I get it, okay? I get that you think Atlanta is the greatest city on earth, and it's really green, and there's lots of whatever the fuck who cares, and I get that Austin is hot, and it's in Texas, and you hate Texas, and you hate the heat, and it's far away, and you really think I'll be happier in Atlanta. I get that. But I have already told you eleventy times that I don't want to move to Atlanta and that I have decided to move to Austin.

Please, show me enough respect to trust that I have made my decision with careful thought and for good reasons, and not spontaneously, on the spur-of-the-moment based on the fact that there are exactly as many vowels as consonants in the city's name.

I am an intelligent, independent adult person with a history of making good, well-thought-out, carefully researched decisions. If I tell you that I have decided moving to Austin is the best thing for me, it's because I have collected overwhelming evidence that this is the case. If I tell you that I don't fucking like rice, it's because I keep trying it and trying it and trying it, and I JUST DON'T LIKE RICE. No matter HOW you cook it.

And here's the thing: even if I weren't this person? Even if I were prone to making rash decisions that end badly for me? That is my right as an adult person. I am allowed to have irrational preferences and not want to read any book with a blue cover. I am allowed to randomly decide that I need to move to Topeka.

That is my right, my reasons are my own and my business and I do not want you to argue me out of them.

Telling me "I personally really love going to church; I believe in god and Jesus and I think it adds all kinds of blah blah whatever to my life" is fine. Telling me "You should go to church! I beieve in god and Jesus and blah blah whatever" is not. This is a thing my mother used to do specifically to drive me insane when I was a child. She would literally say to me, "I'm cold. Go put a sweater on!" Understandable when you're too small to realise that you're cold and need to put a sweater on; unacceptable when you're 33.

Knock it off.

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You guys. Frank. He was so. And then I. With the.

*dead*

(I am reliably informed that there were several other people on stage last night. I'll take your word for it.)

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One of the Trending Topics on Twitter today: #OnlyFatPeople.

Can you think of a few things that only happen to fat people, or only fat people do? I'll give you a minute or two to come up with a couple.



Okay, got your list in mind?

Wrong.

None of those things--whatever things--apply to only fat people. Nothing has ever happened to a fat person that's never happened to someone who's not fat. Even *being fat* isn't something that only fat people experience, because god damn if you aren't always too fat by someone's standards (and, often, too thin by someone else's).

Know why? Because fat people are people, just like (insert whatever adjective here) are people. Human experience is universal.

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There are, quite honestly, no words to describe how much I hate Facebook--and because I am apparently a hipster to the core, I must here disclaim that I hated it before they made these nonsensical fucking changes.

And yet, I like art, and silliness, and parody, so here are some icons, made from the Social Media Propaganda Posters that copperbadge linked to recently.

Share and enjoy!

( Five icons )

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