(no subject)

[ftws]

Okay, dude, this whole "ship me with anything that moves" thing? Yeah, that needs to stop. Just because they're attractive and we'd have adorable, imaginary babies together does not mean we'd mesh well. Besides, I'm not the type of person to spread my legs for any good-looking guy. Not anymore. [and even when she was, she wasn't aiming for "BABIES" and/or "LONG-TERM COMMITMENTS" (even if the prospect of either didn't terrify the poo out of her).]

Anyways, I find it offensive and sexist that you think that, as a woman, I need a man to make me happy. I am perfectly happy and fine by myself and my four cats, thank you. This isn't a rom-com, I don't need a man. [a slight frown tugs at her lips as she shrugs. merely mentioning "men" and not needing one does drudge up some recently buried feelings.] Plus I'm still a little sore over my break-up with Troy. My wounds are still raw and clearly I'm not made for relationships and -- No. No. [she suddenly remembers herself and her argument. so she points crisply, her lips pursing tightly together from annoyance.] I'm not going to state my flaws then realise that the person for me has been under my nose the entire time and then run in the rain to catch them before they get on a plane to, like, Cambodia. Fuck that, fuck Hollywood, and fuck you.

So stop it. Go read a book. You know, rhinoceros are endangered, go do something about that. Just please stop with the shipping before you find someone worse for me than Tony Stark. [a sudden pause as britta puts a hand to her mouth to keep her vegetarian lunch down.

she speaks again, a slight curl at her nose and a bad taste in her mouth.] I will admit that Sherlock Holmes is really hot. But, don't get any more ideas. What are you trying to do? Get gold at the Olympics of Bad Decisions? [and britta should know. she's gotten a few of those herself.]

Comments

[ftws]

You just said the same thing twice, y'know. [in britta's mind, "creepy british guy" is the definition of "me-sherlock."

and no, it's an argument. since she didn't kick down a trash-can or flip some birds, it's not considered a ramble.]

[ftws]

[oh okay. she's on your page now.]

I've met the one that doesn't have to wear man-heels.

[god, they're like twins.]

[ftws]

[which sherlock? in any case, you do not want to see the tall, thin one with a goatee. it looks like he has pubes on his face.]

No, with him I have to stand on a ladder to even see his chin. I haven't met the you-him... one. Sherlock one. The you-Sherlock one. [this is getting ridiculous.]

[ftws]

[makes afghanistan look like disney land.

when you've been in enough near-death situations with him, he totally is.] The other one is just as fine too. Dreamy blue eyes, cheekbones that can cut diamonds, and pretty great in bed despite being so inexperience.

[yeah. she popped his cherry.

wink.]

[ftws]

well, we're even. i tell you how not-you-sherlock is in bed, while i can still hear what comes from your bedroom.

even though you're on the floor above me. [go with both. that's usually the reaction she garners anyways.]