Thursday, March 16, 2006

   Blame Caloric Output
Regardless of food intake, I somehow remain the partially-cooked-noodle shape and consistency I have been since I turned 12. It makes me weep a little when I think that for more than half of my life, I've been short, limp and skinny.

Yet, I celebrate that I never have to follow the arcane precepts of 'diets'. To me, a diet will always be a religious proclamation, usually followed by people being hanged.

My housemates, however, are currently on diets. They have discovered that rum contains less calories and carbohydrates than beer or wine. I have tried, rather desperately, to scare them off with stories of its origin as pure sugarcane, but to no avail. The little leeches have been nicking my rum!

Sure, they buy groceries, but (as you might have guessed) I don't consume them to any great degree.

Curse the discovery of my low-calorie conciousness supressor! Curse those scientists, breaking my mystique!

So, yeah.

That's why I haven't typed up the Chibis yet.


That, and Kougaiji is cuddling my mouse.

=^..^= ~8:>
Comments (3) | Permalink

Wednesday, March 8, 2006

   When Chibis Attack! Part 30
Chronicles of past adventures are over here.

Part 30: In Which the Gag Plays Out

Polite conversation. I hate it.

"What are you here for, anyway?" Was that too obvious?

"That file, you know, the blue one. And I wanted to see how you were doing with number five." He sounds so hopeful, as if I were not a drunk that he has unwisely employed.

Desperately dig through the Fuzzy Sock Drawer of Memory. Recall yesterday's brief burst of productivity. Rejoice.



"I have those! They're done!"

"Oh... wow!" I don't know who's more surprised, him or me. "That's amazing! I mean, fantastic. Today's going to go a lot easier than I thought." Any day you don't have to justify hiring a lazy drunk is a good day, I bet. "I'll just get those and be on my way. Uh... do you mind if I use your washroom first?"

"Down the hall, on your left!" Even my directions are cheerful. Then the recent remodeling of the bathroom emerges from the Sock Drawer. "Uh... I've been doing some repairs in there, though."

"I'll watch for holes in the floor." And his voice disappears into the loo.




That tobacco-sucking monk had better have opened a window. Or at least hit the fan. I'm sure there was a lower set of switches when I was in there last. Mysterious little switches.

"Is it safe yet?" Goku echoes from inside the fridge, startling me.

"No. Please be quiet, Goku." The bread box scolds the fridge. "I'll tell you when you can come out. And don't eat that ham!"

"But!"

"Don't. Now be quiet, he's - shhh!"




As if cued by some cosmic director in the situation comedy that passes for my life, Mr. Collar exits my bathroom.

Mad dash to desk. Search heaps of paper for files: Blue, number 5. Kougaiji.

Crap!






Kougaiji is not hiding. He is sitting on my desk, in his favorite sunbeam, smiling happily and drawing stickmen on a blank sheet of paper.

Consider screaming. Nix it as overly dramatic. Likewise reject tears, beatings, and burning the place down.



"Aww... another cute doll!" Mr. Collar looks over my shoulder.

I panic.

Thankfully, my version of panic is the Lazy Man's Version: Remain completely still and hope that the universe will realize its mistake and will return you to your regularly scheduled life as soon as possible.

Kougaiji appears to be following the same course, even his adorable smile fixed glassily on his face.

Mr. Collar picks him up.




Behind that smile are a lot of very pointy teeth. I begin to sweat profusely.




"There's a lot of detail on the little guy. Where'd you get him?" Mr. Collar turns Kougaiji this way and that. Upside down.

"Yeah. That place! On the. By. The store. The big one. You know." Sweat vanquishing my antiperspirant, soaking through my shirt. Tomorrow's headlines appear before my eyes: 'Man eaten by doll! Former employee drowns in own sweat!'

"Oh." Mr. Collar's eyes are now fixed on me, which is a relief, since they're no longer on the suspiciously fidgety doll, who is making a face at being held upside down. However, now I'm expected to say something to somehow prove that I am not a drunken nut with a suspicious bathroom and oddly cute dolls.

How to prove sanity... a ha!



Hold out files. Try not to sing the Hallelujah Chorus.

"Files! All done!" When you don't have proof, use distraction. Court TV has taught me this.

"Oh, right. Thanks." His suspicion is overwhelmed by joy at finding productivity in such an unlikely place. His surprise, combined with reaching for the folders, provides the perfect opportunity for bait-and-switch hostage freeing of the Naughty Little Prince.




Kougaiji latches on to my arm as if instinctively certain that I will send him home with this strange man if I can pry him off. There is a chance he may be right.

"Well, mid-morning appointments, you know." I smile, trying to herd Mr. Collar out the door. He resist me for a gut-wrenching moment.

"You know, my sister collects dolls from all over the world. That's some amazing workmanship on your collection, though. I had no idea you had a hobby." What, he thought my only hobby was drinking? Alas, those happy times have passed...




Laugh nervously. Try to stop Kougaiji from cutting off circulation to my arm.

"Ah. It's a new thing for me. Pain in the ass, really." My hand tingles and goes cold. Kougaiji is sending Morse Code directly up my nerves: 'Pwease, Mummy, I'll be good...' "...but, I've gotten into it now." A little feeling returns to my pinky. "Yeah. Wouldn't have it any other way." Index finger, reporting for duty!

"I see. Fascinating."

"Ha ha. Yes. Anyway, don't want to make you late."

"Oh, right. Good job, by the way."

"Thanks." Wave remaining arm, backing inside. "Bye bye!"

Slam.





Lean against the door.

Wait until the sound of his engine has faded away down the street.

Wait a bit more.

Breathe.




Remove Kougaiji.

"You were supposed to be hiding."

"I wuz hidink."

"On the desk."

"It's a mice pwace to hide."

"I bet. Nice and sunny."




Kougaiji nods happily. He holds up a picture of him and 'Mummy' walking in the park. There is a big, spiky castle in the background, with a puppy beside it.

Try to muster up a good scold.

Fail.

"...yeah. That's nice. Go stick it on the fridge. And let Goku out while you're there."

I need a new shirt, before I drown in my own quickly-cooling sweat.




Stop dead in my tracks.

Sanzo storming out of the bathroom. Literally. A small thunder cloud roils above his head, flashing miniature lightning.

He has his own weather system. He's pissed enough to have a meteorological effect.

"Problem?" Keep face and voice as neutral as possible.

Sanzo stops, tiny fists in tight balls. He glares up at me, and faint thunder rolls.

"That. Bastard. Used. ME. As a Hand TOWEL!"





Suddenly, it's all worth it. All the stress. Everything.

Nothing wrong with a little suffering, as long as it's spread around. Especially spread on those soft, white robes.

Must keep face straight! Life depends on it!





Grab a fresh shirt. Stop just short of stripping off, alerted by two suspicious antennae sticking out of my partly-closed underwear drawer.

Yank.

"So... has he gone yet?" Gojyo inquires, hands in his pockets, as he dangles from my grip. Of course he would have closed his eyes while I changed...

"Yes."

"You two... involved?" He picks at his nails, trying to look nonchalant, despite dangling by the antennae.

"No."

"And that sister he mentioned, is she..."

Toss out door... fairly gently.

After all, Sanzo was just used as a hand towel. That adds up to a good day, however you count it.


-----
Yes, the entirety of the last 2 chapters was all a build up to one 'gee, those robes are soft' gag. Yes, I need therapy. No, I can't afford it.

=^@.@^=
Comments (2) | Permalink

Sunday, March 5, 2006

   Blues....
Some kind of sad guitar in my head,
- playing an old song, something
...I should have forgotten by now.

Who cares?
Maddened, fretful thoughts on true freedom don't mean much
when I hum them at an empty room.

Black and white and blues.
There's some kind of color to my life,
but color's not the answer
to the big question I can't face.

That same old answer -
left written somewhere on your face.
Comments (2) | Permalink

Friday, March 3, 2006

   When Chibis Attack! Part 29
Previous chapters are over here.

Part 29: In Which Company Comes

Non-alcoholic coffee has the bitter taste of disappointment. Laugh it off, in the face of the huge eyes staring at me:

"Cut it out, you little leeches. It's too early to be drinking anyway." I see a hat passed among them, slips of paper. Are they taking a pool? Are they betting on when I'll break? Little bastards!

"Then what did you just..."

"Shut it!" Whack Goku on the head with a rolled up piece of the paper to silence his painfully obvious observation. This makes me feel oddly... happy? Satisfied? It's so enjoyable, think about whacking him again. Is this why Sanzo's always...

... glaring at me. Over a half-lowered newspaper.




I doubt he's worried about Goku. No, someone whacking Goku doesn't bother him at all... but I doubt anyone survives for long after stealing his shtick.




"Sorry, sorry, whatever, here, have my toast." Cede toast to Goku. Is that enough penance for you, Mr. Nasty Looks?

"Yay!" Sanzo's newspaper returns to its previous position as Goku does the Dance of Free Food. I breathe carefully.



"Hmmm..." Hakkai is still looking at me, a worried expression on his face. "I would offer to drive you to your appointment, but I can't reach the pedals at the moment."

"Oh, come on!" Exasperation takes its toll. "I drank less than an ounce, and it'll be ages before we leave. I leave. Whatever, point is, it'll be out of my system by then." I'm sober, dammit! Believe me, I would know. And it sucks!

"It's not so much that," Hakkai continues. "It's these hallucinations you say you're having. Are you sure you should be driving when you're seeing things?"






How do you answer that?

Seriously now, what do you say to that?




"I suppose I could sit on your lap... no, I still couldn't see over the dash."

"... it's fine, Hakkai."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, very sure."

"As long as you're sure."




I could really use a drink to help me deal with this whole not drinking thing. Or the hallucinations offering to drive because I'm hallucinating. Or something.

The pills will help. They have to.






It takes me a while to figure out where the Big People shower went to, even though some of the previous bathroom retro-fitting has apparently been undone. A few allowances have been made for Persons of Height.

Nonetheless, I can't stop looking at the tiny, colorful back brushes and towel sets. And that damn fig tree. How the hell did they get that sucker in here? It's bigger than the door.

Thank goodness Kougaiji is faithfully patrolling outside. I dread to think what that tree might do to me if Gojyo tried to peep in.




Need a drink.

Or not. Not really. Really, not really.

Well, I do need a drink, but the drink I need is coffee. Nice, fresh coffee. How long until that bloody appointment? Maybe they'll get me in sooner if I show up early.

Someone is standing outside my front door, yelling, "Ding-dong! Ding-dong!"




This seems silly, even given the current situation.

Twitch front curtain aside, wary of anyone who could be so silly at this time of the morning.

It is Mr. W. Collar, my immediate excuse for management. That explains it. Anyone who would hire me, let alone let me work from home must be a little silly.

Glance at the Little Sillies gathered around my kitchen table.

"I have to let him in. He gives me money, and I need money. Go hide."




Begrudging murmured acknowledgement, and they meander off in different directions. Sanzo pulls out his cigarettes and lighter, and I curse at him as he walks into the bathroom. He gives me the chibi equivalent of The Finger, which would be more appropriately called The Mitten.

When they are no longer directly in my line of sight, I open the door.

This interrupts Mr. Collar in mid- "Ding do-"

"Yeah."

"Oh, hey! You're... awake! I hope I didn't interrupt anything. Your doorbell's broken, you know."

"Really."




He steps past me, inside. It has never ceased to amaze me how this man, who is technically my boss, treats my house like a rather messy office, to be entered at will. While it has a coffee maker, and the teaspoons disappear fairly regularly, I don't think my house is fit to be a public place. The smell of booze should have clued him in to this by now. Booze and laundry.

Or maybe that's just my lack-of-alcohol talking.

Or lack of pills. Yeah. That probably makes a big difference, lack of pills.




"Man, I tell you, did I ever have to get up early to get all the way out here. Couldn't even pick up breakfast. But I didn't want to get all the way out here, just to find you were already... out." I'm not sure I like the sound of that. It seems to hint at something other than mid-morning appointments. "Is that coffee. It smells great."

If you wait long enough, eventually people will tell you what to do. Why bother thinking?

"I'll get you some."




He follows me into the kitchen. Why do people keep following me? Do I have 'Leader' written on my back? 'Sucker' seems more likely.

"What do you take?"

"Oh, cream, sugar, snacks, whatever you've got."

"I'll see what I've got."

Open the fridge, take a bottle of whitener from Goku.





"Uh, sorry, say again?" I try to re-focus on the missing bits of conversation, as Goku, smiling guiltily, re-wraps the ham he was carving and returns it to its drawer.

"I said, what's new? What's up?" A full-sized person is talking. I must think full-sized thoughts, and ignore that big bottle of r-

Close the fridge door.

"Nothing." I say firmly. "Nothing's new around here. Very boring. And sane."

Mr. W. Collar laughs, fiddling with the newspapers. Give him coffee, surreptitiously shuffling the Chibi Times to the bottom of the pile.

"This is great coffee. Makes the whole place smell like breakfast."




Feeding people is not something I do often. Generally, people take one look at my kitchen and decide they aren't hungry. Curse Hakkai's penchant for neatness!

"I think I have some... thing. Something." A cursory examination of the table shows that the chibis have a No Food Left Behind policy vis a vis breakfast.

"Oh, don't trouble yourself!" he says in a 'go ahead, trouble yourself' tone of voice.

"No problem." I say in what I hope is a 'I like my job very much' tone.




Back behind the counter, the bread box slides open. Hakkai hands me a bagel, neatly sliced and adorned with cream cheese, then slides the box shut again.

Whatever his Clean Kitchen policy is responsible for, my appreciation for the Lean, Green Snack-Making Machine is once again renewed. Yes, Chibi Cho Hakkai: smaller than most appliances, but with hundreds of functions and built-in hugs. Warning: May destroy some furniture.



"Thanks, that's awesome!" Mr. Collar accepts my providential bagel. "You really go above and beyond, you know that? Above and beyond. I always appreciated that about you."

If there's any truth to that statement, it's so far above my head that it's completely beyond me.

After all, I bet he doesn't even remember my name.

Comments (0) | Permalink

Monday, February 13, 2006

   It's not a bellybutton, but...
it is Sanzo.

I've been working on this for months. I love it.

Be gentle!

=^T.T^=


Comments (1) | Permalink

   When Chibis Attack! Part 28
Missed previous chapters? They're here.

Dr. McNinja does not belong to me. Neither does the chair I am sitting on.

Part 28:In Which Memory Serves

My kitchen is, once again, full of exploding pigs.

I mean chibis. Not exploding ones; ones frying bits of unexploded pig, the smell of which drifts gently through the house, dragging even the most hung-over out of bed.

What do they put in that stuff that makes it smell so good?




A repetitive formula seems to be developing, as if a set pattern of comedy is required for mornings. Hakkai cooks, and is generally helpful. The others get in the way and break my things.

I suppose it's a worthwhile trade. At least this way I get a good breakfast.




Sanzo, momentarily refraining from breaking stuff, is reading the paper. Not the sane, big paper, with its stories about wars and diseases; he's reading the Chibi Times. I wonder who delivers it? A very little person on a very little bicycle?

Today's bold headline reads: "Vicious Attack!"

The story follows: "Victims are receiving treatment after a series of Attempted Snugglings yesterday. According to reports, the assailant snuck up
behind each victim, apparently at random, and the vicious Snuggling took place in broad daylight."

"Police are looking for someone with a warm blanket and a very big smile."




Coffee.

I need coffee. And those pill-

Shi... oot!




"I remember what I forgot!" I'm such a moron! "I mean, I forgot, but I... remembered what I forgot to remember. That is, I..." ... drift off.

Hakkai gently sets a cup of coffee into my widely gesturing hand.

"Sit down, dear, before you hurt yourself."

I follow instructions.

Which is exactly what I forgot to do yesterday.




"Take With Food" it says on the container. I took plenty of food, but none of the damn pills!


"I forgot my pills." Mumble aloud, with only slightly more clarity despite the coffee infusion. Immediately regret my confession when all eyes focus intently on me.

"Well that explains everything." Sanzo sneers, then returns to reading up on Snuggle-Proofing tips for the Thinking Chibi.




"That's what I was going to say..." I may as well think aloud anyway. After all, why bother trying to save face in front of people who don't exist? "Except, I don't think they're meant to prevent hallucinations."

"Hmmm..." Hakkai re-fills my coffee, with a look of genuine concern on his little, round face. "Have you been having hallucinations?"







My eye. It's twitching.

What were those pills for, anyway? Did they prevent this nasty eye-twitch? Or were they meant to stop hallucinations from getting cute with me?

Either way, this could be the easy, edible solution I've been looking for.




Consume "Food".

Open bottle on table to "Take With".

Empty?

No pills here.




Microwave, alternative pill-storage site.

This bottle is empty.

No pills anywhere.




"Oh!" Hakkai smacks his adorable little forehead. "You need to refill your prescriptions. I noticed they were empty yesterday, but I forgot to..."

"I'm out of refills." That's what it says on the bottle. Sabotage? Are they sabotaging my sanity?

Look a Hakkai. Facial expression: Totally Trustworthy^TM.

He speaks: "You had better make an appointment right away, then."

"Aw, Hakkai, what's the rush? She's doing pretty good without them..." Gojyo's facial expression: Totally Untrustworthy, but Not Sneaky About It (patent pending in Chibigenkyo). He might steal my underpants for his evil plans, but not my pills.

"Now, Gojyo," Hakkai is the chibi Voice of Reason. "You don't know what they're for. They might be... blood pressure pills or something."

"She's a head case. It's obvious." Dr. McSanzo MD provides an immediate diagnosis. The little jerk.

"Yes, but she might have other conditions that need treatment." Yeah! See, Hakkai's got it... wait. What does he mean, 'yes, but'?

Dammit.




Pick up phone. Dial.

Receptionist is way too happy.

I bet she's medicated.

"Yeah, hi." My own automated response. "I need an appointment."

"And the reason for your visit?"

Look slowly around the kitchen: Hakkai has built a fortress out of toast to protect himself from Goku and Gojyo's latest food throwing/spraying argument. The Entertainment section of today's Chibi Times features the movie Pulp FanFiction.

The article reads, "He wanted all the hugs to himself. Everyone knew he was too cute to stop. They needed a plan..."

Apparently it all ends in cuddles.




"Uh..." How exactly can I put that without the cops showing up outside? "I'm out of all my pills. And I'm seeing things. Little people. They won't go away. And they redecorated my bathroom."

Is the line dead? It's awfully quiet down there.

"Have you been drinking?" Ah, she knows me so well. Or it's written on my file. Whichever, that reminds me...

"Good point." Top up half-empty coffee with rum from the fridge. Sip as quietly as possible. "Mmm. Bit better. But I still think I need to come in for the pills. Can I?"

"...yes. Yes, you can."

"Kay. Uh... see you in a bit then."

"No more alcohol!" The not-so-cheerful receptionist screeches before I can hang up. "You're driving. No drinking!"





Silence.

The chibis are staring at me.

Ignore them.

Smile sweetly at the phone. "No problem. Bye." Hang up. "I'll just take the bus." Finish the sentence to a dead line.

Except the bus stop is so far away. And it's cold outside. And the chibis are staring at me.

My own hallucinations don't believe I can do it.




Sigh.




I guess it's just coffee, then. For now.





By the Way: This story is nowhere near over. You'll know when it's actually over, (and when I will move over to posting Chibis Gone Wild only) because the Chibis will be back in Togenkyo and back to Full Size. Until then, it ain't over!

There's a plot a'comin in! Wait for it...
Comments (1) | Permalink

Saturday, February 11, 2006

   In light of day
it can be easy to forget the darkness of the night.

So, do yourself a favor and take a look back in time. This is where we came from, ladies. And if we don't remember it, this is where we'll return.

I mark the loss of Mrs. Friedan, and lately also Mrs. King: these ones, movers who shook.


Comments (0) | Permalink

Friday, February 10, 2006

   Happiness is...
coloring Sanzo's bellybutton.

Yeah. Maybe I need a new hobby?

But since that wallpaper is taking a long time to finish, here's something to look at while you wait.
Comments (0) | Permalink

Tuesday, February 7, 2006

   Oh God, why? WHYYYYY!?!??
If I took all the time that I've put into trying to make this evil thing look good, using a program that is 10 years old and my own sad, very sad drawing skills and... say... colored manga panels in Photoshop instead...

I think I could have all of Saiyuki Vol.1 in color by now.

And then the lawyers would be coming to eat me, so maybe the Evil Doodle From Hell is serving some purpose.

Though it being a good purpose seems... unlikely.

Go, look upon it's crustiness and despair!
Comments (0) | Permalink

Sunday, February 5, 2006

   The hell...?
What the hell was I thinking?

Or drinking?

...


=^T.T^=
utterly mystified
Comments (2) | Permalink