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21 June 2005 @ 07:39 pm
Slashy Nominations 122: Yummy Yummy Yummy I've Got Love in My Tummy  
It's been - well, not a horrible day. One of those days that isn't bad enough for justifiable whining (not that this is going to stop me) and not good enough that you'd relive it, even if the only other alternative was reliving the day of the Halloween play in which you were an owl. ("Whooooooo" was how all your lines went. And you had a lot of them, because - in retrospect - you're pretty sure the schoolteacher who wrote the play put in a "Whooooooo" every time she couldn't think of another plot development. And given that the sole "development" of the entire two-act play was a Raggedy Ann doll - whose mother, by the way, should not have made her costume - coming alive and dancing, that was really damn often. Or did that not happen to you? Am I wrong in thinking that this is the kind of childhood experience we all have to go through? God, I hope not; I've dreamed of having a child pretty much solely for the day when I could see him stumbling around a stage in an owl suit he couldn't see out of because the head was made for someone bigger.)

But, anyway. Secret message to Mother Nature: God, I'm sorry, OK? Whatever I did, I'm so so so sorry, and I swear I'll start work to fix it just as soon as you a) tell me what I did and b) stop with the fucking pollen, because, seriously, I can't even match my socks when my allergies are this bad. I mean, I have bruises from walking into walls because my eyes were swollen shut. This is cruel and inhuman punishment, Mother N., but it's persuaded me. I will begin to do right by you just as soon as you quit it already.

And if you don't stop, little miss Nature Queen, I'm buying toxic chemicals in job lots. If you're going to kill me with allergies, I'm at least going to take out our ficus before I go. Ha.

Anyway. What with the allergies, I've been diverting all my available resources to coughing and Kleenex use and little pathetic moany noises, and so I haven't had a lot of time for, well, much of anything. Like cooking. And today is the day our produce comes. I have already eaten almost all the fruit on the grounds that it is - or rather was - the easiest food to prepare. (Sole survivor of the Fruit Gorge: a mysterious green and orange oval thing. I know it's a fruit, but beyond that, I've got nothing. Anyone have any suggestions? And let me just add here that anyone who thought Mother Nature was strictly on the side of the good - she made fruit that clashes with itself. No one tasteful would give counter space to a fruit like this.)

Of course, my fruit eating got me thinking about fan fiction, because everything does. (No, really, everything. After slash the slashers got posted, I had a dream about four of you who shall remain unnamed. You were exploring Atlantis. I need help, people.) Obviously, there aren't a lot of stories where the characters sneeze a lot and eat too much fruit - although, if you added enough whining about citrus, seems to me you could do something with Rodney McKay, there - but there are stories where characters eat. But, because they are characters, they do it with infinitely more style and a lot less whining. So, today: food. Without whine.

(For the record, I mean the stories will be whine-free. This entry? Whinalicious! Whineriffic! Whining with added extra why!)

Best FF That Proves That When You Enter Into the Right Long-Term Relationship, You Become Even More Yourself. Which, If You're a Sarcastic Con Man, Can't Be Anything but Very, Very Good. One More Cup of Coffee, by shrift. Ocean's 11, Danny Ocean/Rusty Ryan. And I begin the way I mean to go on, with a happy story that features no angst of any kind. I can't handle angst and allergies, see. I have a delicate constitution. So here we have Danny and Rusty, the original feel-good couple (OK, they really aren't; maybe I meant "the original feel-up couple"? Or "the original felt couple"? Hmmm. Not sure.), doing research and making idle threats involving cosmetics. And eating. Eating lots of stuff. Which is good, given my basic belief is that any O11 story should be, at minimum, 25% eating, because that's about how much eating there was in the movie. (Not slashy, you say? Ha. I'll see your eye-fucking and no personal space and raise you an oral fixation that won't quit.) This story fulfills my need for Rusty to eat a lot of really inappropriate foodstuffs - and when I say inappropriate, I do not mean it pornily. (Oh, stop with the complaints, you babies. You don't need porn every minute, do you? Don't answer that.) I just mean he's eating stuff that the rest of us know for a fact is not food. (Seriously. I'm waiting patiently for the story in which Rusty eats Circus Peanuts, which are possibly the ultimate non-food "food" item. Nothing that is actually food is sproingy like that.) This story is short, fun-filled, and light. Perfect for the convalescent and the unwarrantably self-pitying. Any wonder I'm recommending it today?

Best FF That Proves That Reminds Us That, No Matter How Intrusive or Outright Crazy Our Parent or Parents Might Be, It Can Always Be Worse. Our Parent Could Be Lionel Luthor. That Fact Is Guaranteed to Make You Feel Not at All Better During Your Next Parental Visit!* The Milk and Cookies War, by Punk, aka runpunkrun. Smallville, Lex Luthor/Clark Kent. (Let's get this out of the way right now: I waaaaaaaant cooooooookies. Waaaaaaant them. OK, no, really, I'm done with the whining now. Well. For a while.) So. Clark torments Lex. Did I need to say anything else to sell you on the story? I thought not. Because we all know that there's nothing more fun than Lex-torment, right? And I don't mean the kind that Lionel dishes out, no; I'm talking about the kind where Lex never once gets trapped or imprisoned or has anything worse happen to him than losing his train of thought. See? You're smiling already! Plus, it's fun to see Clark working his strengths so well. What farm boy from Kansas doesn't know the secret powers of food? (Some of you may wish to substitute "washboard abs" into that sentence.) Not Clark Kent, my friends; he knows his superpowers all too well. So well that when you're done with this story, you'll be singing an ancient song with a title I don't quite recall by an artist I can't quite recollect, and it will go like this: "Stop using food as a weapon/stop using food." (In the original, it was "sex as a weapon." And, hey, what do you know? That works here, too.) Plus, bonus: you will get to see Lex Luthor's true arch-nemesis. And you can just forget all that Rift crap, because it's prosciutto. Take that, Smallville writers!

Best FF That Proves That You Need Patience to Be a Therapist. Or to Eat with Dan Rydell. Or to Date Him. Anyone Who Tried All Three Would Likely Explode, So Isn't It Good That Casey's Not a Therapist? Four Conversations About Sandwiches, by starfishchick. Sports Night, Dan Rydell/Casey McCall. I have an unhealthy but very pure love for the last segment of this story, which in my opinion proves that Abby is quite possibly the best therapist in all of visual fiction. I'm even willing to excuse her little ethical lapse at the beginning of her treatment of Dan, because - she's good! She gets Dan! And is nearly always mostly ethical! Plus, she can make him stop with the sandwich-related panic, which, face it, is quite a skill when you're dealing with second-season Danny. Bonus: this story is based on the very true fact that all office life revolves around food that can be delivered. I've worked in one, so I know this to be true. If you aren't searching through an enormous file-folder of menus for the one restaurant that a) everyone can agree on and b) will still be delivering when the negotiations are done, you're doing careful calculations to determine how much money you need to give the receptionist. Or you're listening to the lunatic from next door explain her new and brilliant system for ensuring that no one, no one will violate the sanctity of her leftovers. (Hint to office workers: give up. Say your goodbyes before your leftovers go in the communal fridge. No force on earth will keep people's hands off them until one o'clock tomorrow.) Hmmm. You think maybe this is why I don't work in an office anymore?

Best FF That Truly Defines the Phrase "Seller's Market," to the Point That It's a Whole Education in Basic Economics Packed into One Short, Fun Story. I Bet Those of You Who Actually Read Your Econ Textbooks Are Crying Right Now. Lifeblood, by misspamela. Stargate: Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay. Tell me this, people who have watched the entire first season of SGA: was there an episode built around the inevitable coffee shortage? Because if not, there so should've been. I've spent enough time around the McKays and Zelenkas and Kavanaghs of this world to know that when the coffee stops flowing, they stop working. It's not even like they want to. Coffee just happens to be one of the fundamental elements of the hard sciences; without it, whiteboards don't work, computers don't compile, and every theorem proves only one point: we need more coffee. Coffeeless theoretical physicists can't do anything but whine (hands up everyone who isn't surprised that I'm descended from one!), coffeeless applied physicists can't do anything but create convoluted machines to steal the coffee from engineering, and coffeeless chemists spend all their time trying to refine caffeine and then distill it into a tasty hot beverage with four times the kick of espresso. (Note to the suddenly inspired: don't try. Two-word reason for you: Jolt Cola.) So I totally love this story, which proves that a) Sheppard was smart enough to see the coffee shortage coming, b) he's able to endure privation for the good of his team, and c) he's not noble enough to do that without getting...something in return. If I'm bitter that Miss Pamela has not written sequels to this explaining how much coffee Sheppard has and exactly what he gets for it, well, this story is so fun that I can only manage to be mildly bitter. Which, given my current level of Whine Alert (Puce: duck and cover), is extremely impressive.

Best FF That Proves That, Even Though Canadians Are Fine People in Many Respects, You Should Never Eat Anything They Invented.** Too Sweet, by Resonant, aka resonant8. Due South, Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski. Did I...did I somehow not recommend this before? Because I don't have it marked in my database or in my set list, but...I feel like I've recommended it. And I definitely planned to recommend it. So today you get five stories, because if this one isn't a repeat, it should be. (Note: when I get done with all my tagging - on that distant and glorious day - we will never have this conversation again! Maybe! Although if the limit actually is 100 entries, we will, at least when it comes to due South!) I love this story. I love everything about it. Re-reading it today made me forget about both my orange and my troubles for a full half-hour, and, seriously, I can't imagine higher praise than that. If you've read this before, well, you'll be clicking on the link anyway, and if you haven't - read it. Or print it out and keep it by you against the time when you really, really need it, for that dark night full of coughing and unwelcome relatives and two inches of floodwater when only a solidly happy story can save you. Because there's Ray being absolutely Ray, right down to his reasons for marrying Stella, and Fraser baking, and horrible mutant Canadian not-cookies, and just...god, it's the perfect recipe. For...for happiness. No, really, I mean that. Hmmm. May have overdosed on decongestants, though. Better check that.


* This title is, yes, directed at a specific person. I'm assuming I don't need to name names. Remember, specific person: if your current mantra fails, switch to, "At least she's not Lionel Luthor. At least she's not Lionel Luthor." Again, it won't help, but at least you'll have an amusing Lionel MPreg mental image to help while away the hours.

** It is possible that Canadians in the reading audience may take offense at this or feel it is unjustified. I have one word for you people: poutine.***

*** But, seriously, I do love the more northerly residents of this fine continent. I do. I don't even hold the poutine thing against you, despite the scientifically-provable fact that my single experience with it (at the tender age of 11) was responsible for 30% of the therapy I needed in my teen years. Just...don't get creative in the kitchen, please. Stick to foods invented in Italy. I'm begging you.
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tried to eat the safe banana: Desirethefourthvine on June 21st, 2005 10:45 pm (UTC)
Cookie. Want. Cookie.

*brain has gone off-line from cookie lust*

I still love you, though. My brain is functioning that well.

Mmmmm. Cooooookie.
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sprat: don't by zoetropesprat on June 21st, 2005 09:30 pm (UTC)
Hey! On behalf of all Canadians, I would like to deny any and all responsibility for head cheese. If you're looking for someplace to blame for that, you've got to go talk to the Danish or something. *g*

I'll happily accept the blame for poutine, though. Death on a plate, but mmm, so good...

(Hey, fourthvine! Thanks so much for the recs! I haven't read them all yet, but that one of Resonant's was wonderful--and I'd somehow managed not to read it yet, so double yay for me. *g*)
(no subject) - thefourthvine on June 22nd, 2005 02:36 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - thefourthvine on June 22nd, 2005 01:45 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - spainja on June 22nd, 2005 07:04 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - penknife on June 22nd, 2005 10:44 am (UTC) (Expand)
ficbyzee on June 21st, 2005 09:08 pm (UTC)
This post made me *need* to get up and go find nectarine. And god, I hear you on the Nature complaints;it's bad enough to be on a river trip for five days plagued by constant mosquitoes and sunburn. It's entirely another to be on a river trip for five days plagued by constant mosquitoes, sunburn, *and* allergies. *shudder*

*bookmarks the recs for later when I have the mental capacity to read*
tried to eat the safe banana: Fondue forks for everybodythefourthvine on June 22nd, 2005 01:51 am (UTC)
Mmmm. Nectarines. Mmmmmmmmmmmm. Oh, now I want more fruit. Great.

And, for the record, the mere thought of your river trip is making me come out in sympathetic hives - I mean, when a person has to view rampant mosquitoes as not even remotely the worst part of a summertime outdoor experience? That is a textbook example of bad, right there.

*shudders in sympathy*

*wonders if it's possible to get an injunction on nature*
(no subject) - ficbyzee on June 22nd, 2005 09:09 pm (UTC) (Expand)
out_there on June 21st, 2005 09:11 pm (UTC)
Tell me this, people who have watched the entire first season of SGA: was there an episode built around the inevitable coffee shortage?

So far, I've only seen half a dozen episodes from the middle of S1. And yet, there's *no* *mention* of coffee. Considering how downright *vital* it is in fanon, and how often it appears in fic, I'm a little disappointed. (Of course, possibly I've missed the episodes where it's revealed that the three priorities on Atlantis are breathable air, something to eat and COFFEE!)
Very inconvenient, as now I have no shaving-glass: Ferris Wheels by Dzurladydzurlady on June 21st, 2005 09:24 pm (UTC)
Sadly, no. There *was* a mention of coffee in 'The Brotherhood', though:
SCENE: Control room
AARON: I don’t know what happen, It just stopped working. I got some of the functionality back. it still isn’t doing everything it used to. *drinks coffee*
ZELENKA: *pops head out from under console and taps on laptop* Yes well... maybe if people stop insisting on having food and liquid in such close proximity to the 10,000 year old equipment...
AARON: Hey. We’re very careful.
(no subject) - out_there on June 21st, 2005 09:27 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - thefourthvine on June 22nd, 2005 02:00 am (UTC) (Expand)
Bettybrown_betty on June 21st, 2005 09:22 pm (UTC)
You must've had some bad poutine, because that stuff is OF. THE. GODS.

Okay. sorry. Came over funny there for a moment.
tried to eat the safe banana: OH MY GOD!thefourthvine on June 22nd, 2005 02:07 am (UTC)
OK, but which gods, exactly? Because I totally agree that no human mind is twisty enough to come up with that...substance. And let's just say I have my suspicions about who *did*.

*gives Cthulhu a piercing stare*
Proactively Untwist Octagonal Hippopotamus Pants: muffinspermdramaturgca on June 21st, 2005 10:43 pm (UTC)
I love you and your recs so very very much. "Lifeblood", "Four Conversations About Sandwiches", and "One More Cup of Coffee" were so exactly what I needed...
tried to eat the safe banana: TFV glowythefourthvine on June 22nd, 2005 02:10 am (UTC)
Ooo, thank you! I'm glad the food recs hit the spot.

And, yes, I'm now deeply ashamed of that pun. Does it help at all to know that it wasn't intentional? Can I be excused because of allergies and allergy medication and, um, fruit overexposure?

*is penitent*
Iphiginia Saberhagen: Wombats Rule swiped from MMWDfanofall on June 21st, 2005 10:43 pm (UTC)
My dearest wombat:

At this specific moment in time, and for the rest of eternity, I love you more than I thought it was possible to love someone I've never actually married. Or divorced.


tried to eat the safe banana: Wombatsthefourthvine on June 22nd, 2005 02:17 am (UTC)
To she who is suffering the slings and arrows of outrageous...something:

I return your affections a thousandfold. And I remind you once again that there is a time and place to buy Hagen-Daaz by the quart.

Also: there's still time for us all to run off to Canada and form one giant polywombatous marriage. We could pack a lunch.

Just a thought.

Love and strength in adversity,
An admirer
(no subject) - fanofall on June 22nd, 2005 07:18 am (UTC) (Expand)
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cyanei on June 21st, 2005 11:38 pm (UTC)
Don't listen! Poutine is tasty! Life-threatening, yes, but taaaaasty.
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(no subject) - indywind on June 22nd, 2005 05:16 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - cyanei on June 22nd, 2005 03:24 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - laughingacademy on June 22nd, 2005 12:26 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - thefourthvine on June 22nd, 2005 02:30 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - fanofall on June 22nd, 2005 08:27 pm (UTC) (Expand)
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(no subject) - fanofall on June 24th, 2005 08:53 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Lydia Bell: need to knowlydiabell on June 21st, 2005 11:00 pm (UTC)
Yay, Sports Night! I liked the sandwich story, plus it was educational! (I didn't know that pastrami was smoked beef brisket either.)
murklinsmurklins on June 21st, 2005 11:31 pm (UTC)
I want to defend Nanaimo Bars, but I made them for the first time two years ago and learned to my horror that our family recipe calls for raw eggs in the bottom layer. Apparently, stirring the eggs in a bit of melted butter is supposed to "cook" them. We give these things away to our friends at Christmas! I believe a better name for them would be Salmonella Death Bars.

But their alternate name is in fact New York Slice.
Iphiginia Saberhagen: Cleo lost elvish medicinefanofall on June 22nd, 2005 08:28 pm (UTC)
Although, I do think "Salmonella Death Bars" is an interesting marketing strategy. :-D
(no subject) - thefourthvine on June 22nd, 2005 09:06 pm (UTC) (Expand)
cyanei on June 21st, 2005 11:37 pm (UTC)
Poutine is so goooooood. And just because there is not a single Canadian food invented that doesn't have the potential to kill you doesn't mean that you should hate on it. ( ;
misspamelamisspamela on June 22nd, 2005 03:16 am (UTC)
Thank you for the rec! *beams*

And oooo, Sports Night!
indywind on June 22nd, 2005 05:18 am (UTC)
BWT oval-shaped orange and green thing? It is possibly either a) rotten or b)mango. Which some people say might as well be the same thing, but don't believe them.
I made this beat with my panflute and my keyboardjanet_carter on June 22nd, 2005 05:55 am (UTC)
Heh. I read Lifeblood yesterday, just before coffee #3 of the day, having embarked on the important project of reading through large amounts of SGA flashfic (speaking of which, you've read the allergy medication one, right? Good For What Ails You, by Giddygeek).

And thank you for a lovely recs set - Sports Night and Due South to reread, Ocean's 11 I haven't read yet - yay!
hexnessie: sizeablehexnessie on June 22nd, 2005 06:43 am (UTC)
I had to google for a definition of poutine. And when I did... Let's just say that even as a resident of a region famous for disgusting foods (aka Eastern Europe), I was, ah, stunned.

I mean, headcheese, yeah, I know people who know people who enjoy that, maybe not so much today with all the mad cows, suspicious pigs and funky chicken, but you can see a reason behind it as the foodstuff of the poor. But the thought of all the fat pearling off on the poutine just makes my throat go on strike.

In a more serious vein, thank you for the recs. I rarely read outside SGA anymore, and I immensely appreciate pointers to good fiction from people with confirmed good taste *g*

cyanei on June 22nd, 2005 03:28 pm (UTC)
These days we usually just use mozzarella. It's really very good. Trust me on that.
(no subject) - fanofall on June 22nd, 2005 08:30 pm (UTC) (Expand)