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Where mah 'Pockies? WASSUP!
Oct. 17th, 2007 03:49 pmStolen from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
justawench: A link to an article in the mainstream press about fanfiction playing into original fiction for some writers.
What's REALLY fun, though, is the comment discussion following the article on Fark, from people thoroughly disgusted with fanfiction, especially that deviant slashfic. Oh, the horrors!
I think my favorite comment about a female fanfic writer was: Anyone want to guess as to what this broad's tipping the scales at? I'm thinking 3 bills if she's an ounce. I also see a lot of cats in her life.
You know, like all jocks and sports fans are granite-headed, lantern-jawed, knuckle-dragging Neanderthals who have to scratch their asses and sniff it, and think halfway between counting from 1 to 5.
And all people who enjoy shopping are bubbleheaded, big-titted, bleach-blonde women with the IQ of raw turnips.
And all people who troll the comment sites for articles waiting to leave hateful remarks on absolutely any topic for the fun of it ("Cancer isn't deadly! What've you been smoking? OOOH BURN!") are turtle-headed little men with pencildick size issues, who squint through their glasses and haven't seen the sun in months because of the black posterboard taped over their windows. Or, if female, are dimwitted frustrated manhunting 38-year-olds who don't type so well NOT just because the lacquer on their four-inch-long Sally Hansen manicured nails hasn't yet dried, but probably also because they, too, have the IQ of raw turnip.
Point being, the stereotype is patently untrue. I have only one cat.
The subject line is a shout-out to comedian Patton Oswalt, a rather short, caustic, funny hobbit-like little Trekkie himself, based on a bit of his about people who die in the Apocalypse being in the VIP section of the afterlife - "Where's mah 'Pockies? Gimme a high-five!"
justawench: A link to an article in the mainstream press about fanfiction playing into original fiction for some writers.What's REALLY fun, though, is the comment discussion following the article on Fark, from people thoroughly disgusted with fanfiction, especially that deviant slashfic. Oh, the horrors!
I think my favorite comment about a female fanfic writer was: Anyone want to guess as to what this broad's tipping the scales at? I'm thinking 3 bills if she's an ounce. I also see a lot of cats in her life.
You know, like all jocks and sports fans are granite-headed, lantern-jawed, knuckle-dragging Neanderthals who have to scratch their asses and sniff it, and think halfway between counting from 1 to 5.
And all people who enjoy shopping are bubbleheaded, big-titted, bleach-blonde women with the IQ of raw turnips.
And all people who troll the comment sites for articles waiting to leave hateful remarks on absolutely any topic for the fun of it ("Cancer isn't deadly! What've you been smoking? OOOH BURN!") are turtle-headed little men with pencildick size issues, who squint through their glasses and haven't seen the sun in months because of the black posterboard taped over their windows. Or, if female, are dimwitted frustrated manhunting 38-year-olds who don't type so well NOT just because the lacquer on their four-inch-long Sally Hansen manicured nails hasn't yet dried, but probably also because they, too, have the IQ of raw turnip.
Point being, the stereotype is patently untrue. I have only one cat.
The subject line is a shout-out to comedian Patton Oswalt, a rather short, caustic, funny hobbit-like little Trekkie himself, based on a bit of his about people who die in the Apocalypse being in the VIP section of the afterlife - "Where's mah 'Pockies? Gimme a high-five!"
