peg22: (stephen)

Okay, so my crackdoms have officially collided in a multi-fandom pile up on Interstate 70. This is the first part of a three parter starring in a very particular order: Stephen Fry, David Soul, Paul Michael Glaser, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki. I'm certain other players may show up in the festivities. So Jeeves meets Starsky and Hutch meet Supernatural in Canada. I'm surprised Fox hasn't called me for rights to the pilot.
So, here's the scoop: Stephen Fry has been cast in an episode of Supernatural and asks David Soul (his friend and enemy and furry pull toy) to join him for a little mayhem with the new kids on the block, Jensen and Jared.

Happy Late Birthday to [ profile] callistosh65 

Spring in Vancouver - Part One: The Hook


Part One: The Hook . . . )
peg22: (shiny hutch)

So Sue requested a "transcripted missing scene" from Survival. So here it tis.
It's crack.
It's RPS.
It's present and past tense.
It mentions John Quade, who played the nasty Vic Humphries in all his icky glory. RIP.


Turtlenecks are so 1976 . . . )

peg22: (TimHortons)

I love that Prince song. The Joffrey Ballet did a whole Prince performance called Billboards a few years ago. The dance to this song was one of the most amazing things I saw on stage EVER.

That being said, snow in April as a reality, especially after a 65 and sunny day yesterday? Not so amazing. Except it hasn't stopped snowing today and Hutch decided we would clean out closets and organize cupboards . . . which is actually a perfect task for this cold and snowy day - did I mention it's APRIL. LATE APRIL? The new leaves on the trees are sad and bowing closer and closer to my window. I'm sure the tulips are shivering. Thank goodness the lilacs haven't even started budding . . .

Here's the view today:

and the saddest leaves ever!

Oh, by the way, anyone watching the NEW DOCTOR WHO? We are loving him here.
peg22: (TimHortons)
 . . . and I'm grading papers, which are not that bad, and which show at least a nugget of things I taught them this semester.

. . . and I'm trying to write a new fic - not fan - and all I really wanna do is get Stephen Fry on the set of Supernatural for some mayhem.

. . . and I'm very proud of my Hutch for writing not one, but TWO SPN fics in the last week.

. . . and I'm waiting for her to write some S/H, because just because Dean and Sam are all shiny and new, there is still a loyalty issue.

. . . and our trip to the West got cancelled due to illness, not on our part, and due to scheduling cluster fuck, on my part, and Hutch has yet to bemoan the fact that I stole the ocean from her. So what I really wanna do is pop down to NYC this weekend to see "beverly leslie's" new show, something about "The Pink Carpet" . . .

. . . and we set the date and it looks like we may be honeymooning at ShareCon - is that wrong? Or perhaps totally right, since it twas the boys that brought us together . . .

and a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO AUDREY AND MARION!! What a lovely thing - a spring birthday - go outside and celebrate!!!
peg22: (hank)
okay, so I feel it's my duty to alert my FList to some kick-ass music (yes, I am from the 70s - that's my people's phrase - kick ass)

The new Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings is AMAZING. Check out "Better Things" - makes me scowl and dance all at the same time.

If I were technically able, I'd link it here, but alas, only recently did I learn to copy and paste . . .

Also, run do not walk into the arms of three "kick ass" girl singers: Serena Ryder, Ali Harter, and Laura Marling.

All bluesy and folk and rock and well, you know I'm gonna say it: KICK ASS.

(yes I am channeling my inner 9th grader today - because, just like in 9th grade, I am in the homework WEEDS! Really? Can we learn lessons and then un learn them? Am I still procrastinating to the point of total obliviation way out here at forty something? Well, I guess consistency is sometimes comforting . . .)


Easter Pics

Apr. 5th, 2010 02:32 pm
peg22: (peeps)

We've been having just the BEST weekend . . .

Easter Musings and pics . . . )
peg22: (ds/pmg)

So, in honor of Laura's anniversary, as well as the spread of Is-ism accross the fandom, I took time out of my crack about StephenJensenJaredDaveyPaulie for Sheila, to scribble this bit which was DYING TO BE WRITTEN.  Absolutely DYING.

This stuff writes itself. Really. It does.

It's crack. It's RPS (well if Davey has anything to do with it). It's in response to some interesting wordcrafting our Starsky has been engaged in.



The Very Is-ness . . . )




peg22: (Dennycrane)
okay so I'm not even in the continental US, but I am in the continental continent and I cannot be the only one who is scared like Dean Vs. the Hellhounds of MRS. PALIN.  Seriously, I could have an entire class dedicated to her form of rhetoric and double speak and folksy innacuracies and word-arounds. And I am almost NEVER political, but I also believe that the rational, smart, common sensical American people have this position of "well, they're all cuckoo and certainly not a problem," but it really makes me want to shout loud and long for all the rational smart common sensical Americans to WATCH YOUR BACKS. I just think that she is either a distraction - "pay no attention to what's behind the curtain . . ." - or the face of something I do not want the U.S. to become . . . of course, I am also one who wants Robert Redford to run for president, so  . . . p.s. does the woman not know that the political DNA of "state's rights" is SLAVERY???? Pick up a book, PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU.  Okay, back to fun and fandom and watching Hutch clean the house . . .
peg22: (married)

Hope everyone has a safe and Starsky-esque holiday - you know, lots of carol singing, lots of odd sweater wearing, lots of cajoling the big blond elf into some semblance of Christmas cheer  . . .  who at first lectures on the crass commercialism of the season, and then unveils the IPhone that Starsky has always wanted forever and ever . . . oh wait, what was I talking about???

Euphoric Sentimentalism Indeed!!!

 (the before pic)
peg22: (davidbw)
they're cutting down trees, they're putting up reindeer, singing songs of joy  and peace . . . oh I wish I had a river, I could skate away on . . . No wonder Hutch loves Joni Mitchell so much. It's right up his alley. Angst galore, as Starsky would say. Here'a  a picture out our window this morning - St. Lawrence river, coffee, housecleaning, music, and MY Hutch folding towels . . . HEAVEN.
peg22: (houseanddave)

 . . . and now must gush:

geez man wow hell damn. When I'm 64 is brilliant.  THE BEST VID EVER. And I am including all her others, which run a close second. And the cowboy one? Hell, I didn't even realize we were actually watching a 70s porno all those years ago . . .

Seriously, it's like she creates a whole other world - I forget to remember what clips come from what episode because she is telling me an entirely different story. 

Once I tried to do a vid, so I know how hard it actually is - well at least for me. The best thing about her vids, though, is that it inspires me to write . . .

now all I need is time and a little dwarf to grade the papers sitting on my dining room table. Oh, yeah, and someone to figure out a good and fun and exciting way to teach subject-verb agreement . . .

ta ra
peg22: (Default)
Good on you, sistah.
Hope Vegas was a blast.
Will wait impatiently for report.

And now you are award-winning, I expect lots of stories and vids . . .
peg22: (montreal pics)
Watching Hutch cook full dinner in kitchen the size of a galley - HEY that's why they call it a galley kitchen . . . she is miracle worker. And has not had a moment of "Hutchinson Angst" . . . there has been a finger point or two. But we have five CDs of 70s music blaring and the potatoes are peeled. So far so good. Except she won't let me be at the TV tray with my corningwear. Have to sit at grownup table with big heavy dishes . . . sigh. And I had a bloody incident with the apple peeler and my pinkie. Okay, so it's not exactly Shootout, but it hurts!

But the day is gorgeous. Cold. Colorful.

I think I can get used to this insanely early holiday . . .

Now what do I do in November?
peg22: (montreal pics)
So here's the week at a glance:

Parents visited. Went swimmingly. Lots of pipe organs and HIGH MASS. Hutch was on her best behavior. You know how good Hutch is with parents . . .

Sprained ankle. Carting the 55 lb suitcase of the mother who packed an entire bag of "canadian apples" in her case. (side note - why are there no Jonathan Apples in Quebec? They are the BEST)

Caught a cold/fever/chill/cough . . . blah. And there are essays and journals languishing on  my dining table, begging to be graded and all I can do is lie on the couch and watch HBO movies.

Thanksgiving head count: 11
Chairs in the condo: 6

Hutch will not allow either stovetop stuffing OR green bean casserole.
(side note - she did buy me a single serving of stovetop - just add water)

Got a the yummiest of yummy surprises this evening - Hutch brought home a bag from LUSH. OH Laura, Laura. Laura - I get it now!
Am in love with the soap and the soap and the rubbing bar that turns into body butter . . . laws.

And now it's time for Supernatural.  So it's all good.
peg22: (Default)

No spoiler, just a big sigh of relief. Loved the premiere. Love HL with the heat of a thousand suns . . . again. And the brilliance that is the casting of Andre "More badass than House" Braugher? Now if they would simply stir in a little Wilson love . . .

Seriously, the man is a craggy angel . . . I know, I know, waiting for big chunks of time to drop from the sky so I can write a damn crossover!

peg22: (Default)

A big ol crackolustreousishisness Birthday wish for  [ profile] lyricalsoul  . . .
trusted fellow, comrade, co-conspirator . . .

Crack to follow . . . xoxo
peg22: (davidbw)

 . . . for the birthday boy. Wrote it for LS. My partner-in-crack and trusted fellow.  And because I can't let the day go by without a little Fry . . .

So it would seem our fair haired birthday boy is out of sorts due to a certain British bloke's sudden shrinkage - in the good way. Well, here, see for yourselves:

Doesn't Anyone Pick up a G**D*** Phone Anymore??? )
peg22: (thirtysomething)
The release of season one of THIRTYSOMETHING?????

I was under thirty when I ADORED the show.
Now I'm over thirty for the DVDs . . .

wonder if the angst will seem silly now I am SOOO OLD and MATURE???? I TOTALLY DOUBT IT. Man, did I ever love that Ellyn and Hope and MIchael and Elliot and the boss from hell, Miles . . . sigh. Hope I don't still have fashion from that era - oh who am I kidding? Of course I still have fashion from that era . . . and I use the term FASHION rather loosely . . .

That's all.

Plus I wanna write a little something, but I have no motivation - anyone have an idea, scenario, plan, that they want to donate? Something odd they would never write??

Now I'm off to get freezer bags for the $50 of wild blueberries Hutch and I fetched in NOrthern Ontario last weekend (HI VERLAINE!)

Say what you will about Canada, the country is full of fine fruits . . .
peg22: (bestst/hug)

I owe her from a hundred years ago when she wanted a Starsky/Huggy drabble. And so it started out all dark and dirty and because it is the ides of July and because it is a glorious summer day, it turned out a little schmaltzy . . .

It's Starsky/Huggy, Starsky/Hutch. maybe a little Hutch/Sweet Alice . . .
 Hope you like it SUE!!!!

I Pity the Poor Fool . . . )
peg22: (hawkbjshoulder)

So after a bout of influenza and a visit to the states and days of everything BUT words on a page, including classes in a most irritating language (je suis fatique), I managed to peck out this little Hawkeye/BJ for the lyrically prose gifted Thayln, as per the meme of a thousand springs ago . . .

You know, hawk and bj always seemed to me to be the perfect slash boys. The circumstance of their friendship, Hawk's inherited from Alan Alda's emo tendencies, bj's underlying need to be needed . . . well, I am sure they tumbled together on many occasion. And I love them both for it . . . of course this ditty is but a pale attempt to capture some of that angst and desperation . . . hope it works.

We are Nowhere
For Thayln

He comes to me at night. After endless hours of of sutures and sorrow, in the aftermath of another blood-smeared day.  He waits outside Post-Op, leaning his long limbs just out of the light.  I attempt levity, a quip, but he just drags me around the corner and shoves me against the wall, his hands making quick work of my protest. His lips search and destroy. Punish. I know it’s not me. It’s this place he’s trying to forget, leaving it behind in a trail of faint bruises on my flesh. I welcome him, wrap myself in his grief, exhale my own, and for a moment, we are nowhere. But then a tent door slams and he tears himself away, shoves a hand through his hair, and disappears back into the light.  And I am left with nothing.

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