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Sep. 29th, 2013 08:15 pm
onmyneck: (Default)
[personal profile] onmyneck
Hello, everyone. It's been a while since I've made one of these. I suppose I'm feeling nostalgic for the multiple times I embarrassed myself to you all. You're only really supposed to have your life flash before your eyes when you're dying, when you have larger concerns than self-deprecation.

I hope that everyone has been having a good time without me. Several people I know have left, which is bad news. Several people I know are still here, which is probably worse news. I live in a new place. Feel free to visit if you want to see raccoons. There are a lot of raccoons.

It's strange that, despite being here so long, I still think about my home so often. For as many bad memories I have about Lawndale, there are things that I miss. The lack of terrorist plots so close to my house. The lower percentage of raccoon fur on my clothing. There would be a third thing, but I've already been too generous to Lawndale.

I do miss my friends and my family. Jane is my best friend. She has a boyfriend called Tom. I think I have a crush on Tom. What do you miss about home?

[text]

Jul. 7th, 2013 10:45 pm
onmyneck: (i may go pop)
[personal profile] onmyneck
'The force of the explosion knocked Melody back several yards, leaving her sprawled across the cold, marble floor of the public library. She picked herself up quickly, brushing the hair out of her eyes and pulling up her thigh high stiletto boots. Glancing around the remains of the economics section, her eyes widened as she discovered that all of the books on free market capitalism had been left in a smouldering pile.

"Those damn Communists," she whispered, feeling grief over the loss of the founding principle of the great country of the USA. "This time," she whispered again, "it's even more personal." She drew her machine gun out from her backpack and'

That's as far as I've got. It turns out writing gory spy fiction becomes less rewarding when you've seen most of the stuff happen first hand.

Maybe I should turn my hand to something more peaceful. Or more raunchy. Whatever makes me more money in this harsh, materialistic landscape we call literature.

[text]

Apr. 7th, 2013 10:41 pm
onmyneck: (if i'm wrong please correct)
[personal profile] onmyneck
Here's a story about my life.

Years ago, at my high school, a football player named Tommy Sherman managed to help our team win the State Championship. A week before, as he waving to the crowd while carrying the ball, he collided with the goalpost and went into a coma for six days. Thus, his awakening and subsequent victory were a miracle. Thank goodness for sports.

When I was at school, someone decided that a special break-away goalpost should be dedicated to his memory. As Tommy Sherman visited the school, he proceeded to insult everyone there, tried to solicit multiple girls for sex, and called me a loser. Imagine that. Then, due to the universe's appreciation for irony, he was killed in a freak accident when his very goalpost fell on top of him.

Everyone was very upset, most of all the people who had been joking about his death moments before it happened. However, everyone needed someone to turn to, and so they turned to me. The Misery Chick. Apparently, I was used to being unhappy. I should be able to tell other people how to be unhappy.

At the time, I was angry. I didn't want to be the Misery Chick. But someone told me the reason that people thought I was miserable was because I thought, and people wanted to know how someone can live with thinking all the time. I reminded myself that being sad and miserable was better than thinking and feeling nothing at all. I forgot that lesson until now.

Does anyone need help with something?

[text]

Feb. 12th, 2013 09:46 pm
onmyneck: (excuse me. excuse me.)
[personal profile] onmyneck
Well. Hello again. This is the sane version of Daria Morgendorffer.

Maybe sane is stretching it. This is the "normal" version of Daria Morgendorffer.

I'm hoping someone knows what exactly happened to reality there for a while. If there is a super-powered Carl Jung on the loose, it would be best to find them now.

The fact that previous sentence could actually be a plausibility is upsetting.

Anyway, I just wanted to make it clear that I was not the one declaring myself queen of the City at the start of the month. It was merely an embodiment of my repressed emotions. It turns out that I'm every bit as judgemental, mean, unpleasant, egotistical, jealous, petty and selfish as I thought I was.

If anyone doesn't hate me yet, you're very welcome to join the club. There is an open membership policy. Pick up a pamphlet today.

[video]

Feb. 3rd, 2013 08:33 pm
onmyneck: (got to get off)
[personal profile] onmyneck
[The video, unsurprisingly, starts off with Daria. Surprisingly, she's dressed like this. In case anyone hadn't guessed, Shadow Witch Daria has made her appearance.]

What a beautiful day on which to celebrate one's coronation.

[She sounds just an inch perkier than usual, but there's no mistaking that monotone.]

One is overjoyed that one has been chosen as the fairest and smartest person in the City, and thus best suited for ruling. One is certainly not surprised, however, of that judgement. One did not have any competition, and certainly not from this network.

[She starts to adjust her hair as she speaks.]

One's first act is to improve the quality of life within the City. Henceforth, all citizens deemed unworthy will be permanently exiled. All others may remain as one's personal servants. Unworthiness is hereby defined as bad manners, slow wit, low intelligence, excessive optimism, conflicting viewpoints, sociability, stubbornness, insincerity, greediness, intolerance and hypocrisy. There is no use for people like these. Get out of my city. My empire is my own.

[She turns and walks into her labyrinth. Feel free to visit.]

[text]

Jan. 1st, 2013 11:05 pm
onmyneck: (excuse me. excuse me.)
[personal profile] onmyneck
My New Year's Resolutions:

1) Exercise more. Preferably, exercise my right to die of heart disease at a young age.

2) Be more friendly. Ensure that no one will suspect my eventual betrayal.

3) Learn a language. I'm leaning towards incomprehensible gibberish or pig latin.

4) Get a tattoo of my own face on top of my current face. See if anyone spots the difference.

5) Never give up. There's always something to watch on TV.

[text]

Nov. 21st, 2012 10:09 pm
onmyneck: (i may go pop)
[personal profile] onmyneck
Winter is here.

I've always tried to be realistic. Realism, however, is hard to measure when you're thrown into an alternate universe controlled by a robot overlord and given super powers.

Remaining realistic is also difficult when the lives of you and people you know are on the line on a regular basis. Particularly when dying just means a few days off from breathing. And, if that wasn't enough, I'm still expected to attend high school.

Should I even attempt to go to college? There's not much point, considering I could disappear any day now. I might miss Honey Boo Boo. Shakespeare couldn't write a greater tragedy.

It's probably too early, but I feel there's at least one thing I can give thanks for: I don't have to suffer through another Morgendorffer Thanksgiving. One less day of watching my father have multiple nervous breakdowns because the turkey reminds him of military school. One less day of having my mother leave the table in order to sue a hospital. One less day of having Quinn tell me that turkey causes "fatty eyelids", and complaining about how tacky the pilgrims dressed.

I think apathy will be the new realism. It suits me better.
onmyneck: (say i'm gloomy)
[personal profile] onmyneck
[After staying home in the City, Daria thought things would be quieter. By the very worried expression on her face, it's clear that she was wrong.]

I don't know if anyone in Venezuela just saw the TV, but- um. It looks like Vulcanus is back.

[She turns the camera a little to the TV, where newsreaders are talking with great gusto about the latest broadcast.]

They've broadcast a message on all the major networks, saying they've released a neurological virus in Venezuela. It's supposed to "expose imPorts for what they truly are", so it looks like imPorts are going to be the only ones affected by this thing. There wasn't much else on the symptoms, but, there-

[She turns the camera back onto herself, as a few snippets of words like "death" and "chaos" are heard from the TV.]

There is a cure. I don't know if they were telling the truth, but there was something to do with secrets. They said you just have to reveal someone's secret, your own or someone else's, to a crowd of people. Something you would feel guilty for revealing. I don't know if we can trust their word yet-

[She stays quiet for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to say next.]

They said this is to teach President Pisani a lesson on trusting imPorts. Just make sure you don't prove Vulcanus right, no matter what happens. And if there's anything I can do from here, just- just tell me. I'll update with any new information I can find.

[text]

Sep. 16th, 2012 09:32 pm
onmyneck: (if i'm wrong please correct)
[personal profile] onmyneck
Sometimes, I feel as if I am in one long infomercial. I'm sure you've seen those awkward middle aged people fail to complete basic tasks in their daily life. In fact, at times I denied the idea that any person could be uncoordinated enough to cut their finger while chopping a large tomato in half. How wrong I was.

Unfortunately, I feel like I am that stage of my life right now. Everything is still undersaturated, and I've managed to cut off three fingers when preparing soup. Of course, I can't cook anything that doesn't involve a microwave, but let's leave that alone for the sake of my overextended simile.

Someday, I hope I will reach the point that the saturation will brighten and I'll be able to buy a handy new product for $99.99 plus shipping and handling. Maybe it'll chop up my onions quickly, or be able to send me back to my actual universe where it at least makes some vague sense. Until then, I suppose I have to cut my fingers a few more times.

In summation, I hope someone will hire me to act in an infomercial.

[text]

Jul. 30th, 2012 09:56 pm
onmyneck: (got to get off)
[personal profile] onmyneck
'The long, lazy days of summer. A time for relaxation and recuperation. At least, if you weren't an international super spy with a mission to wipe out Communism and legs that just wouldn't quit.

Melody Powers was one such super spy, and her legs had not yet even thought of the possibility of seeking more gainful employment on another woman's body. The humid Italian climate suffocated her hotel room, with a single fan remaining apathetic to producing a satisfying room temperature. Fortunately, Melody thought to herself, she wouldn't be in the country much longer. As much as she would miss the pizza.

She glanced back at the other body in the bed. Roberto's dark locks were limp and lifeless, but Roberto himself didn't have seem to care. Probably, Melody considered, because he's dead. She glanced down at the bloody knife in her hands. Sliding it grimly into her thigh high boots, she walked out of the hotel room. She placed a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. It was Roberto's final check out. But, Melody pondered, the Communists were still alive, which meant she had work to do. The stiletto heels of her boots clacked along the stone floor of the hallway as she left.'

The first chapter of the remastered Melody Powers saga, after my previous works were left in an alternate universe. My magnum opus. The parallels to Jane Austen are mostly intentional, of course.

[text]

Jun. 7th, 2012 10:55 pm
onmyneck: (i've got to be direct)
[personal profile] onmyneck
It's disappointing that the future has yet to give up on some of the barbaric, uncivilized customs of the past. The high school prom, for instance.

And with prom season coming up on this summer's social calendar, I'm spoiled for choice on which of my many outfits I should wear. I do have my signature style of staying at home and watching a marathon of Ice Road Truckers, but I wouldn't want to show anyone up. Adolescence is a tricky time.

In case some of the older members of this network feel left out, feel free to tell us about your experiences at prom. The most awkward story wins a t-shirt.

[video]

Mar. 28th, 2012 09:51 pm
onmyneck: (got to get off)
[personal profile] onmyneck
[Daria is sitting down on a couch, a throne of cushions built behind her. The sound of people arguing drifts over from the television as Daria holds the communicator in her hands.]

Well. I'm certainly glad to see my twelve year absence from the world has allowed television's greatest minds to come up with something that truly represents the people.

[She turns the camera around to face the TV. She's watching Jersey Shore.]

Normally, I would be taking my daily eight mile jog at this time, but I accidentally fell on the couch and turned the TV on. By accident.

[Two fake tanned men are having a shouting match, although the topic of the argument is unclear.]

As far as I can tell, the Jersey Shore has been hit by some sort of horrible toxic spill that has turned everyone orange. It has also severely impaired their ability to create actual names for themselves. J-Woww is one of the worst affected.

[Now, there's Snooki screeching at someone.]

I guess it goes to show anyone can be on TV. As long as they're DTF. Is all television just a celebration of idiocy at this point? Or do they not have intelligent discussion channels on cable?

[video]

Mar. 12th, 2012 09:09 pm
onmyneck: (excuse me. excuse me.)
[personal profile] onmyneck
[The feed turns on to an extreme closeup of a particularly large pair of glasses. Quickly, the camera is moved back so you can glimpse a young girl's face, with large splotches of yellow and blue paint all over it.]

Hm.

[She doesn't talk for a few more seconds, checking to see if the device is really recording.]

Someday, I knew I would go insane. I guess I've finally proven myself right. I've also proven that even in a fantasy world, I'm still being degraded.

[Her eyes dart back and forth from the camera, signalling her apprehension to the new world. She continues speaking in the same flat monotone as always, not changing her facial expression one bit.]

If anyone would be kind enough to perform a lobotomy, I will be waiting here. Otherwise, I have a speeding train I need to jump in front of. Thanks.

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