(no subject)
Dec. 3rd, 2009 08:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moonsheenInspired very directly by today's Penny Arcade
"...look. My name's Theo, and I'm Elf. That's not short for Theomir. That's not short for Theodorian Sunstreaker Moonbeam. It's..just Theo. I know you all think elves should have long flowing hair and tights-as-pants, but, uh, while I can't deny that is our traditional clothing do you expect Greek guys today to wear togas?
I know how to say 'good morning', 'goodnight' and 'Thank you for the sweater grandmother' in Elvish and...that's about it. I can't order your topiary for you. I can't make the tomatos grow faster in your window box.
If I'm calling you I'm probably asking about your credit rating, not your landscaping projects."
Guys I date always think I'm going to be a frigid beast in bed. No, that's not supposed to sound like it makes sense. They expect me to be some cool aloof royal prude while being a raging domineering freak. Also, they expect me to be able to talk to their dogs and... I don't even KNOW how that one started.
And to all those who think they should take me to overpriced salad bars? VEGAN AND ELVISH IS NOT THE SAME THING.
I took ONE archery course. In high school. And I FAILED.
I'm not a hermaphrodite. I don't photosynthesize. I don't ride flowers and moonbeams to work. I catch a cab. And sometimes that cab driver calls me Miss. Which is why I don't bother with the five foot long ponytail. Not that anyone I know actually does. I've only ever sparkled after an unfortunate accident involving my sisters Bedazzler back in the eighties.
So, look. I know there are guys out there who are...kind of insecure about themselves and see 'elf' and think that's somehow a 'maybe' on the 'what gender are you?' section of an insurance form. Or they think they're in for some weird, tantric by-way-of-bdsm kinky Old Age stuff. Or they just think they're getting a waifish beauty who needs to be treated like a virgin princess. To those men I say: do not waste my time. Take me to a bar, buy me a burger, talk to me about the game last night and know I don't take offense to you crushing a few daisies while I do you in the park on the way back to your apartment.
Do we get it? Good. Great.
...it's true what they say about the ears, though."
"...look. My name's Theo, and I'm Elf. That's not short for Theomir. That's not short for Theodorian Sunstreaker Moonbeam. It's..just Theo. I know you all think elves should have long flowing hair and tights-as-pants, but, uh, while I can't deny that is our traditional clothing do you expect Greek guys today to wear togas?
I know how to say 'good morning', 'goodnight' and 'Thank you for the sweater grandmother' in Elvish and...that's about it. I can't order your topiary for you. I can't make the tomatos grow faster in your window box.
If I'm calling you I'm probably asking about your credit rating, not your landscaping projects."
Guys I date always think I'm going to be a frigid beast in bed. No, that's not supposed to sound like it makes sense. They expect me to be some cool aloof royal prude while being a raging domineering freak. Also, they expect me to be able to talk to their dogs and... I don't even KNOW how that one started.
And to all those who think they should take me to overpriced salad bars? VEGAN AND ELVISH IS NOT THE SAME THING.
I took ONE archery course. In high school. And I FAILED.
I'm not a hermaphrodite. I don't photosynthesize. I don't ride flowers and moonbeams to work. I catch a cab. And sometimes that cab driver calls me Miss. Which is why I don't bother with the five foot long ponytail. Not that anyone I know actually does. I've only ever sparkled after an unfortunate accident involving my sisters Bedazzler back in the eighties.
So, look. I know there are guys out there who are...kind of insecure about themselves and see 'elf' and think that's somehow a 'maybe' on the 'what gender are you?' section of an insurance form. Or they think they're in for some weird, tantric by-way-of-bdsm kinky Old Age stuff. Or they just think they're getting a waifish beauty who needs to be treated like a virgin princess. To those men I say: do not waste my time. Take me to a bar, buy me a burger, talk to me about the game last night and know I don't take offense to you crushing a few daisies while I do you in the park on the way back to your apartment.
Do we get it? Good. Great.
...it's true what they say about the ears, though."
