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Aug. 22nd, 2005 10:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickI logged into amazon.co.jp the other day to examine the "Where's My Stuff" thing.
My stuff was waiting for me at work today. This is why I do not buy the expensive shipping. Amazon.co.jp has never, ever forced me to wait more than half of the time that they CLAIM the cheap shipping takes.
Anyway, now I'm fortified with fresh porn. (This is more of the same YBP I've been reading, by the same author. I don't like surprises in my porn. Since she appears to be done with this universe and since I now own every scrap of it, I am going to have to find something else to read. Damn it.) However, there's enough to entertain me for a while here -- I need a couple of runs through to figure out the plot, such as it is. I mean, yeah, I can tell who's fucking whom, but that's usually drawn for you on the freaking frontispiece. It's not like it's a secret. The plot is important. It is very difficult to have angst without a proper plot and I just don't read enough Japanese to be able to divine the plot from the words and phrases that I can read one-handed while driving home from work. (The reason I was reading one-handed was that the other hand was driving the vehicle. Yes, really. Stoplights and such. And low-traffic straight sections of road.)
When I got home, I translated a couple of pages of particularly Sakurai-licious dialogue. I love the way this guy talks. Or how he's drawn when he's talking. Or some kind of textual alchemy between what the author intended and the stew I'm making of one oyster. (Objects in mirror are larger than they appear.) Whatever the cause, Sakurai is just quite the hottie.
Sakurai to Kazumi (designated 受け) in successive panels.
少しだけ我慢してて下されば
すぐに悦くしてさしあげますよ
(He does. Visibly, with appropriate moan-y FX too.)
ちょっとキツイかなでも本物よりは小さいですよ
*snarf*
この異物感に慣れてしまえば
生身のモンはずっと受け入れやすい
(You'd think Kazumi would find this reassuring but he doesn't LOOK reassured. The word I'd pick is mortified.)
The other thing I did today was tarred the roof at 623, which involved roofing tar, with fiber and aluminum bits. It's black. You have to stir it. As you stir, the metal bits come up from the bottom and you'd think that with the metal bits it'd be silver, but it isn't until you slather it on the roof. In the bucket, it's gold, like a cat's eye topaz kind of a thing. I wished I had a camera but I didn't have mine with me. (And if I had, it would have gotten covered with roofing tar anyway.) I got roofing tar all over myself, which is par for the course. Good thing I wasn't wearing the good clothes, you know? Gasoline takes it off your hands, if you ever have a similar problem... and I'll have to remember to take pictures of the stuff at some point because it really is pretty. The viscosity of the stuff means you can make swirly galaxies of metal bits... or maybe I had my head too close to the bucket and was getting a bit woozy with the fumes coming off of it. At any rate, I thought the roofing tar was astonishingly pretty, this afternoon. I spent most of the time up on the roof slathering, of course, but since I've got a brain the size of a planet, slathering roofing tar doesn't exactly max out the processor so I also got to consider how damn much a lot of manly constructing activities are like girly kitchen activities. Yes, really. One of these days I'll get motivated on the unified skills theory and then you can hear all about this. For now, though, note that applying roofing tar is a lot like mopping.
My stuff was waiting for me at work today. This is why I do not buy the expensive shipping. Amazon.co.jp has never, ever forced me to wait more than half of the time that they CLAIM the cheap shipping takes.
Anyway, now I'm fortified with fresh porn. (This is more of the same YBP I've been reading, by the same author. I don't like surprises in my porn. Since she appears to be done with this universe and since I now own every scrap of it, I am going to have to find something else to read. Damn it.) However, there's enough to entertain me for a while here -- I need a couple of runs through to figure out the plot, such as it is. I mean, yeah, I can tell who's fucking whom, but that's usually drawn for you on the freaking frontispiece. It's not like it's a secret. The plot is important. It is very difficult to have angst without a proper plot and I just don't read enough Japanese to be able to divine the plot from the words and phrases that I can read one-handed while driving home from work. (The reason I was reading one-handed was that the other hand was driving the vehicle. Yes, really. Stoplights and such. And low-traffic straight sections of road.)
When I got home, I translated a couple of pages of particularly Sakurai-licious dialogue. I love the way this guy talks. Or how he's drawn when he's talking. Or some kind of textual alchemy between what the author intended and the stew I'm making of one oyster. (Objects in mirror are larger than they appear.) Whatever the cause, Sakurai is just quite the hottie.
Sakurai to Kazumi (designated 受け) in successive panels.
少しだけ我慢してて下されば
すぐに悦くしてさしあげますよ
(He does. Visibly, with appropriate moan-y FX too.)
ちょっとキツイかなでも本物よりは小さいですよ
*snarf*
この異物感に慣れてしまえば
生身のモンはずっと受け入れやすい
(You'd think Kazumi would find this reassuring but he doesn't LOOK reassured. The word I'd pick is mortified.)
The other thing I did today was tarred the roof at 623, which involved roofing tar, with fiber and aluminum bits. It's black. You have to stir it. As you stir, the metal bits come up from the bottom and you'd think that with the metal bits it'd be silver, but it isn't until you slather it on the roof. In the bucket, it's gold, like a cat's eye topaz kind of a thing. I wished I had a camera but I didn't have mine with me. (And if I had, it would have gotten covered with roofing tar anyway.) I got roofing tar all over myself, which is par for the course. Good thing I wasn't wearing the good clothes, you know? Gasoline takes it off your hands, if you ever have a similar problem... and I'll have to remember to take pictures of the stuff at some point because it really is pretty. The viscosity of the stuff means you can make swirly galaxies of metal bits... or maybe I had my head too close to the bucket and was getting a bit woozy with the fumes coming off of it. At any rate, I thought the roofing tar was astonishingly pretty, this afternoon. I spent most of the time up on the roof slathering, of course, but since I've got a brain the size of a planet, slathering roofing tar doesn't exactly max out the processor so I also got to consider how damn much a lot of manly constructing activities are like girly kitchen activities. Yes, really. One of these days I'll get motivated on the unified skills theory and then you can hear all about this. For now, though, note that applying roofing tar is a lot like mopping.
