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Below are the 3 most recent journal entries recorded in The Sexay's LiveJournal:

Sunday, February 9th, 2003
1:27 am
Man, my author is EVIL! She just finished a fic that put me through the wringer. I feel like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

It wasn't bad enough that I had to be on the bottom-- no, she chained me up and made me suffer and it was pretty damn close to noncon, my friends. I mean, I could've had a stroke! Why don't I get the nice easy little fics with the nice willing little subs?

And NO, 1-8 in the series DON'T count!


I won't want to sit down for a week, you watch. Ow. I bet I have to shoot horseback riding scenes tomorrow too.

That author of mine is evil. EVIL, I TELL YOU! PURE EVIL!
Sunday, January 26th, 2003
11:52 am
Orgy Report
Finally made it back from Ancient Rome, but it was a near thing.

quimuse is far trickier than I initially gave him credit for. Also, he can be damned annoying-- and arbitrarily selective about when he chooses to use that damned laser sword of his.

We were doing fine-- yeah, ok, so grimesey yelled at serving wenches for making eyes at obimuse, and OK, so he took a few potshots at Caligula, and right, so one of the centurions wound up in the arena with the lions for daring to pat Obimuse's ass. And it's damned startling when you go to bite into a pie and live birds fly out. I can sympathize.

But then we hit Nero. The orgy was well underway, and Grimesey and Obimuse took off home for some quality time, and that's when Quimuse got sneaky.

I was maybe a bit drunk, I admit that; they had good wine. And disorderly, yeah, by modern standards but that was NOTHING compared to those Romans. Jeez. I thought Quimuse was drunk too, since he'd swilled at least a gallon of wine.

Anyway, I was fondling Qui's rather fine ass and he batted his lashes and offered to meet me in the back room.

I knew nobody could resist my studly masculine charms, so I scuttled right off to meet him. Well, wouldn't YOU? Imagine my surprise when the torch whoofed alight and there was NERO.

My friends, you have never met a stone wall until you've tried to say "NO" to a Roman Emperor. I was able to foist him off for a while by singing and reciting poetry, but he had more hands than the Watcher in the Water. Plus he was drunk too and he kept threatening to have me thrown to the lions. After watching Obimuse's centurion try to fend them off with nothing but dirt and his leather skirt, I was not enthused.

Before you could say Jack Robinson, he had figured out zippers and had both hands buried in my jeans almost to the elbows. Now, he was skillful and all, yes, but they had VD even back in those days and he didn't know a condom from his nose-hair, so I had to fight. Man, was he pissed after I bloodied his nose and broke for the door!

I fled into the main ballroom, where Quimuse REFUSED TO DEFEND ME WITH HIS LIGHTSABER. That's right. He tipped up a glass of wine very archly and commented that he couldn't fight a war for me, and turned his head back to listening to the music and watching dancing girls.

Nero's guards grabbed me, and they hauled me back into his room, and when he was finished, they all passed me around. I haven't been that well-fucked since Boromuse-- er, well, but I digress.

So, finally they let me go, and I had to stagger (bowlegged) back out to find Quimuse, because the old bastard had the dimension hopper and I didn't, or I'd have stranded his ass right then and there.


He was popping pills on the sly from a bottle labeled "saltpeter."

He gave me a superior look and made us stay another two hours, till the chariot races finished and he collected his bets, before we could leave.

Next time, my friends, I'm swapping those fucking saltpeter tablets for Viagra-- and then I'm going to strand him on a deserted island with nothing to fuck but a blow-up doll with a hole in it so it won't hold air.

GRRRR. I'm off to the doctor to see if any of those blasted Romans had the clap. Don't wait up.

Current Mood: pissed off
Friday, January 24th, 2003
5:20 pm
quimuse is a real party animal. He makes everything out to be my fault, but it simply isn't true. Never before have I hung out with someone who managed to get Aragorn thrown out of his own city. And those death sticks he gave Legolas? The poor elf's still babbling about seeing the Light of the Trees in Valinor.

Also, I'm used to otherworldly beings shining with glowing auras, but that blue of Qui's tends to get on your nerves after a bit. His friends are odd, too. Mean!Mace is a handsome man, but he's very well-named. I think he must have sat on a pole-arm once and it's never been removed.

Quimuse's tales of Anakin remind me of Saruman, the White Wizard, only in hobbit-size. I'm just as content not to encounter that young man, though Qui's other apprentice, the one who's a Knight now, sounds intriguing-- in any incarnation. Qui also says his first apprentice isn't up for grabs. Darn.

Quimuse also tells me he's sworn himself to celibacy.

Well. We'll just *see* about that.
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