I am not a morning person.
May. 29th, 2004 11:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hackthis_archive1 & 2. I have my new streamlined LJ. *adores ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
obsessedmuch*, and my website is fairly updated.
3. Champagne hangovers are different from other hangovers, because with champagne you don’t even realise you’re drunk until about three hours after you’ve had too much (so you haven’t bothered to stop drinking) and by then you’re just fucked. Plus champagne hangovers never bother to wait until the next day to show up, generally they show up about five minutes after you realise you’ve probably had too much.
4. I have decided that the way TPTB are going to save their sorry arses is by sending Clark back in time. Yes, really. I think thatPriscilla, Queen of the Desert Jor-El is either going to send Clark back from his brainwashing on the same day five-minutes before, or like the day before or something, which will then alter something in the timeline, et voila, no explosions or Lex alcohol-poisoning.
Note: Of course it’s also likely that the house that blew-up isn’t the one that Chloe and Gabe were in, but that’s not nearly as cracked out, now is it?
5. And if that’s not enough, I enjoyed ‘Covenant’ so much that I’ve finally made peace with Clark. It’s almost like season one again for me. Evil rocks, people, don't let anybody tell you different.
Smallville
Fake Plastic Love
There are some days when it just doesn’t pay to be evil -- and then there are other days when Lex is fairly certain that he’s just not evil enough, because the evening after the Justice League blow up his latest meglomanical-but-I-wasn’t-really-going-to-hurt-anybody super powered particle accelerator, there’s a Superman tee shirt on Lex’s pillow when he prepares to go to sleep.
A lot of thoughts go through Lex’s head when he sees the shirt on his pillow, not the least of which is that Clark has got a hell of a lot of explaining to do for working late again, and on their anniversary no less.
When it comes down to it though, Lex isn’t sure what’s worse, the cheap 100% cotton itchiness of the shirt or the fact that he doesn’t hesitate in putting it on. If he can’t have the real thing by his side then, theoretically, this should work in some sort of surrogate aspect -- but it doesn’t, because the logo is this nasty sort of plastic and the shirt smells like damp newspapers.
Sometimes there’s so substitute for a self-righteous alien in primary spandex and the way he smells like freshly cut grass on a summer day.
*
Superman is everywhere. Everyfuckingwhere. Lex has told Clark a thousand times that he deserves royalties from all the craptastic Superman merchandise flooding the market: tee shirts, capes, teenie magazines, reality series based on people who have had 'Close Encounters of the Superman Kind'.
Lex has pleaded with Clark on his knees (with Clark’s cock in his hand). He’s threatened and cajoled and done everything, including burning several Superman uniforms because the money for making those doesn’t grow on trees, and if there were royalties coming in Clark could have a new uniform every hour. Lex’s lawyers have paperwork for thousands of patents and contracts and lawsuits for past monies owed, but Clark has refused to yield.
Clark’s just himself, and he refused to capitalize, and Lex hasn’t found a lawyer alive who can get past that.
*
The only thing more omnipresent than Superman is spam - but Lex doesn’t need to see ‘horney [sic] lesbians’ or ‘raging cocks.’ He’d be satisfied with seeing his lover on a semi-regular basis on something other than the eleven o’clock news. He’d be satisfied with spam that doesn’t try and sell him ‘Superman’s cock!’
He already has that.
Except his version doesn’t vibrate or come with a garish logo.
Maybe there’s a use for spam after all.
*
The Big Dick and Cookie company clearly believe in truth in advertising, because Lex is certainly holding Superman’s cock in his hand.
Well, it’s a bright, red dildo with a Superman logo on it. Other than that though, well, imagination certainly accounts for a lot, because even Clark isn’t this big. And he leans to the left. But desperate times and measures and all that.
To think that Lex used to have the phone numbers of every high-class escort service in the continental United States on his palm pilot.
*
It’s interesting how a man who can’t remember his own anniversary and has to keep spare pairs of glasses in every place conceivable because he still can’t remember to wear them after eight years, can manage to hear the flicking of a switch thousands of miles away.
The news said there was a tsunami in Tokyo tonight. Clearly somebody will be looking for a new job tomorrow; and the only thing more ridiculous than Clark looking self-righteous with that hideous gelled-curl falling across his forehead is Clark looking infuriated at finding Lex in bed with a vibrator with the Superman trademark on it.
Lex isn‘t sure whether to laugh or applaud. Perhaps he should‘ve gone the plastic route sooner.
“I thought you were working late,” Lex glances up before looking back down at the vibrator and flicking back and forth between settings. The buzzing is fairly quiet and unobtrusive, but the tag from his Superman tee shirt is making the back of his neck itch. “I think #2 is more like you, but #3 is certainly interesting.”
“I can’t believe you’re cheating on me with that!” Lex doesn’t have to look up to know Clark is sulking. He’d know Petulant Tone #6 anywhere.
“It’s not cheating,” Lex says flippantly, pushing the button up a notch. Clearly #4 is too much because not only is the vibrator shaking, but so is Lex’s arm. “I think that’s a bit much,” he comments glancing up to see Clark doing the Superman-Glare-with-Arms-Crossed routine.
He can’t remember what number he assigned that particular expression.
“Lex.”
“Clark.” Lex glances up when the bed dips under Clark’s weight, and underneath the blankets his toes curl in anticipation.
“Are you trying to tell me something?”
“I’m not trying to tell you anything.” Lex can’t control the smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I’m taking matters into my own hands, now,” he says leaning against the headboard and spreading his legs underneath the sheets. “Would you pass me the lube?”
Clark’s sputtering has never stopped being endearing, but Lex is on a mission right now. “Fine, I’ll get it myself,” he says, putting the vibrator on the bed and leaning across Clark’s pillow to the night stand.
Lex’s hand has just reached the drawer handle when the sound of breaking plastic reaches his ears. Sighing deeply, he looks back over his shoulder at the remains of the vibrator in Clark’s grasp. “That wasn’t necessary you know. I was just trying to fulfill certain needs.”
Lex will never get used to the SuperBlur, and there has to be some unit of time between when Clark strips off his uniform, and Lex finds himself on his back with his tee shirt pushed up under his arms. Lex just isn’t sure what to call it. A millisecond is too long, but apparently it’s enough time for Lex’s dick to get with the program.
Clark really does do petulant better than anyone Lex has ever met. “Are you saying I’m not adequate to fulfill your needs, but that plastic thing is?”
“I’m saying that since Superman seems to be helping everyone else all the time, there’s no reason he can’t help me out, too.”
“You’d rather have that than the real thing?” Clark‘s mouth may say one thing, but the way he‘s rubbing his dick against Lex‘s hip is saying something quite different.
“I’m a practical man; I can make adjustments when I have to.”
“You shouldn’t have to make adjustments.” Clark tone is quiet and he stops rubbing against Lex, which is exactly what Lex doesn’t want right now. It’s hard enough for them to get time together as it stands, this isn’t how he wants to spent it.
“I have a proposal for you,” Lex says. “You fuck me now and we discuss the adjustments later.”
It’s amazing how Clark can just display emotion after emotion without getting worn out, and the grin that crosses his face reminds Lex exactly why he puts up with Superman in the first place. “I’ll take that as a yes then?”
“Yeah, yes, absolutely.”
“Good, I’ve invested a lot in Superman’s cock; I would hate to have to call the manufacturer and complain.”
-end-
obsessedmuch*, and my website is fairly updated.3. Champagne hangovers are different from other hangovers, because with champagne you don’t even realise you’re drunk until about three hours after you’ve had too much (so you haven’t bothered to stop drinking) and by then you’re just fucked. Plus champagne hangovers never bother to wait until the next day to show up, generally they show up about five minutes after you realise you’ve probably had too much.
4. I have decided that the way TPTB are going to save their sorry arses is by sending Clark back in time. Yes, really. I think that
Note: Of course it’s also likely that the house that blew-up isn’t the one that Chloe and Gabe were in, but that’s not nearly as cracked out, now is it?
5. And if that’s not enough, I enjoyed ‘Covenant’ so much that I’ve finally made peace with Clark. It’s almost like season one again for me. Evil rocks, people, don't let anybody tell you different.
Smallville
There are some days when it just doesn’t pay to be evil -- and then there are other days when Lex is fairly certain that he’s just not evil enough, because the evening after the Justice League blow up his latest meglomanical-but-I-wasn’t-really-going-to-hurt-anybody super powered particle accelerator, there’s a Superman tee shirt on Lex’s pillow when he prepares to go to sleep.
A lot of thoughts go through Lex’s head when he sees the shirt on his pillow, not the least of which is that Clark has got a hell of a lot of explaining to do for working late again, and on their anniversary no less.
When it comes down to it though, Lex isn’t sure what’s worse, the cheap 100% cotton itchiness of the shirt or the fact that he doesn’t hesitate in putting it on. If he can’t have the real thing by his side then, theoretically, this should work in some sort of surrogate aspect -- but it doesn’t, because the logo is this nasty sort of plastic and the shirt smells like damp newspapers.
Sometimes there’s so substitute for a self-righteous alien in primary spandex and the way he smells like freshly cut grass on a summer day.
Superman is everywhere. Everyfuckingwhere. Lex has told Clark a thousand times that he deserves royalties from all the craptastic Superman merchandise flooding the market: tee shirts, capes, teenie magazines, reality series based on people who have had 'Close Encounters of the Superman Kind'.
Lex has pleaded with Clark on his knees (with Clark’s cock in his hand). He’s threatened and cajoled and done everything, including burning several Superman uniforms because the money for making those doesn’t grow on trees, and if there were royalties coming in Clark could have a new uniform every hour. Lex’s lawyers have paperwork for thousands of patents and contracts and lawsuits for past monies owed, but Clark has refused to yield.
Clark’s just himself, and he refused to capitalize, and Lex hasn’t found a lawyer alive who can get past that.
The only thing more omnipresent than Superman is spam - but Lex doesn’t need to see ‘horney [sic] lesbians’ or ‘raging cocks.’ He’d be satisfied with seeing his lover on a semi-regular basis on something other than the eleven o’clock news. He’d be satisfied with spam that doesn’t try and sell him ‘Superman’s cock!’
He already has that.
Except his version doesn’t vibrate or come with a garish logo.
Maybe there’s a use for spam after all.
The Big Dick and Cookie company clearly believe in truth in advertising, because Lex is certainly holding Superman’s cock in his hand.
Well, it’s a bright, red dildo with a Superman logo on it. Other than that though, well, imagination certainly accounts for a lot, because even Clark isn’t this big. And he leans to the left. But desperate times and measures and all that.
To think that Lex used to have the phone numbers of every high-class escort service in the continental United States on his palm pilot.
It’s interesting how a man who can’t remember his own anniversary and has to keep spare pairs of glasses in every place conceivable because he still can’t remember to wear them after eight years, can manage to hear the flicking of a switch thousands of miles away.
The news said there was a tsunami in Tokyo tonight. Clearly somebody will be looking for a new job tomorrow; and the only thing more ridiculous than Clark looking self-righteous with that hideous gelled-curl falling across his forehead is Clark looking infuriated at finding Lex in bed with a vibrator with the Superman trademark on it.
Lex isn‘t sure whether to laugh or applaud. Perhaps he should‘ve gone the plastic route sooner.
“I thought you were working late,” Lex glances up before looking back down at the vibrator and flicking back and forth between settings. The buzzing is fairly quiet and unobtrusive, but the tag from his Superman tee shirt is making the back of his neck itch. “I think #2 is more like you, but #3 is certainly interesting.”
“I can’t believe you’re cheating on me with that!” Lex doesn’t have to look up to know Clark is sulking. He’d know Petulant Tone #6 anywhere.
“It’s not cheating,” Lex says flippantly, pushing the button up a notch. Clearly #4 is too much because not only is the vibrator shaking, but so is Lex’s arm. “I think that’s a bit much,” he comments glancing up to see Clark doing the Superman-Glare-with-Arms-Crossed routine.
He can’t remember what number he assigned that particular expression.
“Lex.”
“Clark.” Lex glances up when the bed dips under Clark’s weight, and underneath the blankets his toes curl in anticipation.
“Are you trying to tell me something?”
“I’m not trying to tell you anything.” Lex can’t control the smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I’m taking matters into my own hands, now,” he says leaning against the headboard and spreading his legs underneath the sheets. “Would you pass me the lube?”
Clark’s sputtering has never stopped being endearing, but Lex is on a mission right now. “Fine, I’ll get it myself,” he says, putting the vibrator on the bed and leaning across Clark’s pillow to the night stand.
Lex’s hand has just reached the drawer handle when the sound of breaking plastic reaches his ears. Sighing deeply, he looks back over his shoulder at the remains of the vibrator in Clark’s grasp. “That wasn’t necessary you know. I was just trying to fulfill certain needs.”
Lex will never get used to the SuperBlur, and there has to be some unit of time between when Clark strips off his uniform, and Lex finds himself on his back with his tee shirt pushed up under his arms. Lex just isn’t sure what to call it. A millisecond is too long, but apparently it’s enough time for Lex’s dick to get with the program.
Clark really does do petulant better than anyone Lex has ever met. “Are you saying I’m not adequate to fulfill your needs, but that plastic thing is?”
“I’m saying that since Superman seems to be helping everyone else all the time, there’s no reason he can’t help me out, too.”
“You’d rather have that than the real thing?” Clark‘s mouth may say one thing, but the way he‘s rubbing his dick against Lex‘s hip is saying something quite different.
“I’m a practical man; I can make adjustments when I have to.”
“You shouldn’t have to make adjustments.” Clark tone is quiet and he stops rubbing against Lex, which is exactly what Lex doesn’t want right now. It’s hard enough for them to get time together as it stands, this isn’t how he wants to spent it.
“I have a proposal for you,” Lex says. “You fuck me now and we discuss the adjustments later.”
It’s amazing how Clark can just display emotion after emotion without getting worn out, and the grin that crosses his face reminds Lex exactly why he puts up with Superman in the first place. “I’ll take that as a yes then?”
“Yeah, yes, absolutely.”
“Good, I’ve invested a lot in Superman’s cock; I would hate to have to call the manufacturer and complain.”
-end-
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Hee!
Date: 2004-05-29 03:59 pm (UTC)I like your back in time idea. Wouldn't it be cool if they extended the last 10 minutes of Covenant into a full hour show? *G*
Re: Hee!
Date: 2004-06-04 03:10 pm (UTC)