Tag: storytime

thebibliosphere:

thebibliosphere:

hadanelith:

thebibliosphere:

I’ll never not be amused by the fact that I can drop the words “crucifix nail nipples” into a conversation and some of you who have been with me since the livejournal days will join me in the flashbacks, screaming and crying all the way.

I require context. Because this is a very interesting start of a story, and now I need the rest of it. Could I get a link, or a summary, or something? Pretty please?

All right buckle the fuck up kids, it’s the year 2012 and I’ve just been handed what should be an easy editing gig by my senior editor. It’s a vampire erotica story because one of the final Twilight movies is about to come out, and everything is vampires. Everything. I haven’t edited a single thing in months which isn’t about vampires. I am ready, I can do this. So I open the file and notice there’s a typo in the title, which really should have been my first inkling that something horrendous was about to go down, but you see I’m not quite dead inside yet so I carry on, bushy tailed and bright eyed with my faith in humanity intact. It’ll be dead by page 24, but I don’t know that yet. I’m just editing one more vampire boner fest.

The MC is a girl who we’ll call Sue. Sue is a Good Girl™, Sue is Not Like Other Girls™, she is pale and awkward and a virgin and has somehow managed to find herself a Bad Boy™ for a boyfriend. We’ll call him Dickhead.

Now Dickhead as previously stated is a bit of dick, he tries to pressure Sue into sex because he knows she is The One™ but he loves her really so it’s okay. Except it’s not okay because Sue is a Good Girl™ and holding out till marriage which he’s fine with except he’s got such a bad case of blue balls that one night walking home an attractive stranger lures him into an alley with the words “hey stud” and he follows, dick out before she’s even finished her sentence. Well turns out that was a mistake for Dickhead because she’s a vampire, but not just any vampire, a Dick Biting Vampire. So what started out as a skeevy blow job behind a club that he’ll feel bad about in the morning, turns into him being bitten on the dick and drained of his life essence and left for dead. Except DBV fucked up and now he’s a vampire. Are you still with me? Good, cause it’s about to get weirder.

Realizing he is now an abomination, Dickhead flees, becoming a creature of the night and feeding on animals rather than humans to repent for being such an asshole in life. Sue meanwhile is heartbroken, but carries on valiantly with her life and goes to bed each night crying for the loss of her One True Love™ who she would do anything to bring back. Well guess what Sue, Dickhead never really left you! He’s been “instinctively protecting her from rapists” by hiding out on her roof and fighting hobos who try to get to her open window via the fire escape for months now. Because that’s not fucking terrifying at all.

Upon learning of his predicament and how it happened, Sue can do nothing but blame herself. Oh if only she’d let him touch her secret places, then perhaps all of this could be avoided! Meanwhile Dickhead is having another dilemma of his own, realizing too late that his vampire powers have given him super senses and now he can smell her blood and he can’t decide whether he wants to get with her or eat her. And I don’t mean in the French sense. But he is strong! And over comes his base manly vampire instincts and neither rapes not kills her. Hurrah! And this is so romantic that Sue gives it up, but not before she launches into a theory about how in all fairy tales, True Love saves the day, so maybe her magical pure vagina that has never been touched by anyone, not even her, can bring him back to life. So Dickhead being a dickhead agrees and rips her clothes off, but not before he takes one last moment to marvel at the beauty of her purity, because he will never again look on her again and know she is Pure.

If you’ve only vomited once by now, I applaud your resolve.

So they hop on the good foot and do the nasty, except she is literally so pure in spirit, her flesh burns his. And I quote you from memory because these words are burned into my soul: “her breasts bit into his hands, like crucifix nail nipples tearing at
his flesh, but he did not care because he loved her so and couldn’t
stop”

This phrase haunts me. I dread that it will be the last thing I think about on my death bed and my last words will literally be “god fucking dammit” as I die, carrying that mental image with me into the afterlife. My own solace is in knowing that I inflicted it on other people too, like @ahzuri who is somehow still with me after all these years.

When the magical burning sex fails to heal him and leaves her bruised, battered and broken with “a dainty blue bells of bruises around her secret flower” (I am genuinely quoting this, I could never make something as horrendous as this up without being on acid) Dickhead leaves. Yeah. Off he fucks, leaving her to the mercy of the hobos at her window, and into the night to be the true monster he really is. But wait, there’s more. Remember the dick biting vampire? Well turns out she has figured out she made him into a vampire and has also been stalking HIM and is totally jealous of Sue, so tries to kill her. But again Sues Purity saves her, because sex before marriage which was done out of True Love is not a sin, so she is still a spiritual virgin and I’ll be honest, I started drinking heavily at this point and it’s all a bit of a blur.

A fight ensues some pages later after Dickhead returns, realizing the mistake he has made. And he rescues Sue from the Dick Biter, but not before he assaults Dick Biter, and calls her a slut for luring innocent men into alleys cuts her heart out by cutting her breasts off, at which point i screamed “THAT’S NOT HOW YOU REACH THE HEART” and my brain short circuited completely and I have no idea how it ends because I realized there was 30 pages left and my soul couldn’t take it. I emailed the chief editor like ?????!!!!!!????!!!!!! and the book was immediately pulled from the work line and the author dismissed from the publishing house. Turns out she was a friend of a friend and that was how she got the manuscript past our entry levels for requirement.

And that’s the story of how an author sent me death threats for over a month because I stopped her shitty vampire porn from ever seeing the light of day. You’re all fucking WELCOME.

Sorry to bring this searing back into your lives fam, but I feel it’s worth noting that people are tagging this as an “ancient relic” of tumblr text posts and how they’re so happy they see this every year and like guys, I hate to tell you this, but uh, this post is only six months old. I posted in on March 3rd 2016.

It only seems like years because every time you see it you age five years.

Dearest Duke, might I ask that you share another one of your fabulous theater stories. They never fail to bring me out of the darkest of hours. It would most certainly be greatly appreciated either way. Good day.

dukeofbookingham:

Okay, here’s a short one because I really want to cheer you up but I don’t have time for a long one today. Story time:

Once upon a time I was in what might have been the world’s worst production of Julius Caesar (like, I actually asked friends and family not to come and told the ones who insisted to bring a flask and take a hit every time someone pronounced a word wrong). I was a hat-changer playing like five different roles, one of which was Strato, who–if you don’t remember the six million minor characters, because why the fuck would you?–helps Brutus shish kebab himself in Act V. Obviously this should be a intense moment. So Brutus charges at me like I’m a goddamn matador, I shove a sword under his arm and then we stand there sort of awkwardly hugging and gasping for few seconds before I struggle to lower Brutus (who is a lot bigger than I am) to the floor. And I’m supposed to kneel there, gazing sadly at his noble lifeless body, until Antony and Octavius come in and break up the pity party. Only, on like the third night of run, Antony and Octavius just don’t come in. Nothing happens. I drop Brutus on the floor but nobody enters to interrupt and because the director loves melodrama he’s asked me to cry so I’m awkwardly crouching over Brutus’s body and weeping in absolute silence for like an uncomfortably long time and I sense Brutus getting really tense where he’s lying on the floor pretending to be dead because how the hell is this skinny-ass sophomore girl going to drag him offstage if the winners don’t come in? 

Now what you have to understand is that this is a small theater, and it’s theatre in the round, so we’re very closely surrounded by audience members on like every side. And in the middle of this prolonged and agonizing silence, this woman in the front row leans over toward the guy next to her and says, in a completely clear and audible whisper, “This is sad.” And you guys, Brutus and I both fucking lost it. Like, it’s sad??? YOU THINK SO??? NO SHIT????? Brutus barks out a laugh but he’s supposed to be dead so I sort of fling myself on top of him and faceplant on his chest because all hope of subtlety is already gone and with my face smashed in his toga you kind of can’t tell if I’m sobbing or laughing and at this point who even gives a shit.

By this time like half the audience is crying and half is laughing and like at least five or six of them are whispering to their friends “Shut up you guys this is sad” and Brutus and I both just actually want to die and then finally the fucking victory party comes in like five minutes late and Octavius goes “What man is that?” and I sit up with tears smeared all over my face and I’m like as a red as the blockheads from Gumby and Brutus is still lying under me stiff as a board with his fists clenched trying not to laugh out loud and Messala just looks at me like Uhh? Strato? Where is your master? And it took ten years’ acting experience and immense willpower to not just go, “MESSALA. PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER. THIS IS SAD.”

And that is the story of the time Julius Caesar was sad.

today I recited Shakespeare to a small army of eight-year-olds

desselleeanna:

believingintheotherkate:

girlwithalessonplan:

positivelypersistentteach:

costlyblood:

So last week an email got sent round my college asking if
anyone wanted to read some poetry to primary school kids and I was the only one
who responded and I asked if I could do some Shakespeare, since I have quite a
lot of experience with it, and the teacher said that would be fine.

So I was discussing with friends what I should do and they
said ‘er yeah, don’t do Shakespeare.’ And I was like ‘what why’ and they went ’well,
maybe if they’re over 10 but otherwise you’ll just get blank looks’ and I went ‘well
I don’t want to insult their intelligence’ and then another friend was like ‘hey
you should do that kid’s song ‘When I Was One’, they’ll like that!!’ (it’s a really
babyish song for toddlers with silly actions) and I thought about it and was ‘like
nah actually, I’ll do the ‘Once more unto the breach’ speech’

So I learned that over the week, and I was walking up to the
school, and the whole way I was thinking ‘Oh god this was a terrible idea they’re
going to hate it, they’re going to look at me blankly like those kids in The
Polar Express, my friends were right it’s going to be a disaster’, and I was
there early, so I sat in the classroom for the first half an hour, got given a
cupcake by some kids from a different class, said hello to some of the kids in
my class, they got a look at me.

At half 2 the teacher mentioned I would be reading some
poetry, and I asked if we could go outside, which she was more than happy to
allow, and the kids were all so confused (‘where are we going? Isn’t it only
poetry?’) and we got onto the field, the teacher got them all to stand an arm’s
length apart from each other, so I could walk around them, and I did a brief
overview of where the scene came in the play, how the king is on the
battlefield, talking to his soldiers (“Could all you be the soldiers?” “Yes!!”)
and they’re attacking the French, who are all in a castle (forgot it’s really a
castle town), and they’re attacking them through a gap in the wall, the breach.
Me and the teacher emphasised that if there was anything they didn’t
understand, that was completely fine and they could ask me at the end. I asked
the kids to watch for when I held my fist in the air, which is when they had to
cheer loudly, we had a practise at that, and then I did the speech.

Everything I had been scared about evaporated. All the kids
were totally engaged, they were all watching me, they all listened right the
way through, I saw lots of excited faces, and they all cheered really well at
the end.

Afterwards, there was a lot of chatter, several of them
asked me questions (”how do you remember all those words?”, “what did you mean when you talked about nostrils?”), one boy asked me to do it again, they were all really
lovely and had genuinely enjoyed it. It was so much fun, and they especially
loved it when I told them how my big college friends had told me not to do
Shakespeare because they wouldn’t like it. Those kids 100% proved them wrong

Bless this post.

YES.  THIS. 

I once took excerpts of Midsummer to do with a group of 8-12 year olds for a week-long summer camp. My TA went “You can’t be serious.” But once the kids had their translations and knew what we were talking about, they took it and freaking RAN. They knew everything they were saying and what’s more, they enjoyed doing it. Kids NEED to be exposed to it before they’re old enough to form the mental block that it is too difficult. 

Yes yes yes