Canadian fangull (I shriek about everything), unrelenting geeknerd, writer and wannabe editor. Girl gender with left blar (she/her or they/them pronouns), also swirling entropic void of "no". Multifandom mess.
A thing I love to do is telling prepper dudes that one of my disaster readiness skills is making stuffed animals. They never get it. Like, my dude, when things get very bad and we're all sharing overcrowded shelters, you're gonna want the power to comfort children. Trust me.
Periods should come with some kind of psychic attack so I can like knock the phones out of hands of people who listen to loud videos in public and pop the tires of people with evil bumper stickers. I feel I'm owed that for the horrors
he’s on a network show (boring, pedestrian, lacks imagination, accurate)
cuddy started a swear jar and f-bombs are $1000 each because it was the only way to stop him (goofy, delightful, i assume his fellows rat him out)
wilson bet him he couldn’t insult people without saying fuck and that escalated to wilson betting him he couldn’t FUNCTION without saying fuck and it’s been a decade but house is too stubborn to quit now (canon as far as i’m concerned)
house knows where the camera is and when the fourth wall is in play and only says fuck when he knows he’s offscreen (house is bugs bunny with vicodin, in this essay i will-)