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As you can see, I have found The Hub's MLP pony generator, and am having the time of my life with it. This is my (yes, MINE, you foals!) fancharacter, Skyskimmer, and THIS is her bio.:

Name: Skyskimmer ("Sky")
Gender: Female
Kind: Pegasus
Age: 19

Appearance: While the picture says it all, it is worth noting that while Skyskimmer takes more after her mother in appearance, she inherited her father's white coat.

Cutie Mark: A golden propeller, which she received upon realizing that it was her destiny to help all ponies-- winged and flightless-- to touch the sky!

Personality: Naturally outgoing and eccentric, Skyskimmer is brilliant and enthusiastic-- but a bit of a "mad scientist"... or "mad inventor", if you prefer. Aside from inventing and aviation, she is surprisingly lacking in knowledge, especially when it comes to social etiquette. However, her natural sweetness and enthusiasm put everypony around her at ease... eventually.

Backstory: Skyskimmer was born with one wing (her left) much smaller than the other, rendering her permanently incapable of flight. If that wasn't bad enough for a Pegasus pony, Skyskimmer's father is a champion flyer who dreamed of having a foal who would one day take his place in the sky. The feeling of disappointing her father, coupled with the vicious teasing she endured in school, rendered the naturally extroverted Skyskimmer mute and miserably insecure. Once she stopped talking, her mother decided to send Skyskimmer to see Princess Twilight in Ponyville. After all, she reasoned that the Princess of Friendship could help Skyskimmer make friends. However, much to everyone's surprise, it was a chance meeting with Discord that helped turn Skyskimmer's life around. With his own unique brand of "helpfulness", Discord was the one who showed Skyskimmer the worth of those who are different from others, and allowed her to see that she could still fulfill her dream of flight... by thinking outside the box! It was this realization, coupled with her desire to fly, that caused Skyskimmer's cutie mark-- a golden propeller-- to appear. Since then, she has become obsessed with aviation, and has even invented her own aircraft-- the "Skyskimmer 3000"!


Favorite Color: Gold
Favorite Food: Cheesy apple pie
Occupation: Pilot, mechanic, inventor of the "Skyskimmer 3000"
Home: Cloudsdale
Family: Airfoil (father), Windsong (mother)
Style: Steampunk/Aviator
Quote: "There's a place in the sky for everypony!"


And HERE she is in fancy dress:


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Current Mood: creative

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Yes, mishies! I am back! Aren't you elated?!

Actually, I'm not really sure anybody actually reads this journal. I've never been sure. Could it be that, all this time, I've been writing into a void? A dark, empty space that is not only blind and uncaring, but also ugly for some reason?

Either way, I'm back! And I have some news-- wondrous news! I HAVE BEEN PUBLISHED.

You read correctly, ugly void! Published-- as in, an actual book that I wrote will be on the market at some point in the future. That point being this summer, supposedly. It is entitled "Chronicles of Magic: The Sixth Child" and is about the struggles of a lonely, depressed ex-soldier and his sociopathic best friend who solves crimes. Except it's not. To find out what it's really about, though, you will have to read it-- and, more importantly, you will have to BUY IT. Because you ain't reading for free if I can help it.

This has been fun, mindless void. We should do it again sometime.

Current Location: buried beneath the mountain of money i will make
Current Mood: accomplished

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So, television-loving masses, I was expecting "Legend of Korra" to be a flop of a sequel to "A:TLA". Mediocre, at best. I thought, "They can't possibly pull it off. No new series will ever be able to hold a candle to the old. Heck, it won't even be able to hold a match."

Then I watched it.


Korra is one of the best female characters I've yet come across, along with Lisbeth Salander, Katniss Everdeen, and Revy from "Black Lagoon". Watching her in action made me wish I was a stunningly beautiful kick-butt Avatar instead of just stunningly beautiful.

Furthermore, the animation, music, and writing is still top-notch. The animation may even be a step up from the first series, if the first two episodes are any indication. The pacing is good, the action sequences superb, and if I have any complaint it's that more episodes haven't been released early yet.

My advice-- nay, my COMMAND-- is that you go watch "Legend of Korra" on April 14th... or online, if you can. Watch it, and LOVE IT. Love it like your last-born child, and not your first-born, who will inevitably disappoint you.

War out, peeps.

Current Location: Waiting for Korra DVDs to flood the market
Current Mood: impressed impressed
Current Music: That bank-account-dwindling noise

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So, last Friday, I was on my lunch break at school when, on my way to the teacher's room, I encountered a little boy in the hallway. He came out of his classroom and gazed up at me, a strange, shell-shocked expression on his face. His hands were held out as though in supplication, and he was covered in vomit. We both froze, staring at each other as he waited for me to do something.

"Ew." I said to him. Then I walked into the teacher's room and ate my sandwhich.

Later, upon reflection, I realize that this was not my most compassionate act.

But I WAS on my lunch break.

Current Location: Slamming the doors on many a vomit-stained child
Current Mood: contemplative contemplative
Current Music: That indifferent-to-your-retching sound

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Long ago, in a reindeer stable far away, a baby was born, and it was Stevie The Horrible Elf. It was his life's mission to wreak havoc upon the world that had not glorified him as the new Santa Clause, and thus he rained down vengeance in the form of hideous brain-probes every Christmas for the rest of eternity.

That is NOT the true meaning of Christmas, but it is true. That is why, no doubt, at least half of the people who are reading this are now mindless zombies. More mindless, anyway.

Stevie made his annual trip around the world last night, showering gifts of probes, grenades, and plague-ridden vermin upon the anticipating masses below. He was met with little fanfare, however, which is why he'll be packing a few bombs next year.

I, personally, got a plague-filled rat, which I placed in my mother's stocking. I hope she appreciates it like I appreciated the noose and chair she gave me.

Have a merry Christmas, and a plague-filled new year.

Also, don't forget the TRUE meaning of Christmas:

"For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." Isaiah 9:6

Current Location: Hanging my new noose from the ceiling
Current Mood: naughty naughty
Current Music: Carol of The Bombs

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Well, if you're still here-- if you haven't shriveled up and died like that one guy named Marco while waiting for me to update-- then, congratulations! Marco applauds you. Or he would, if his hands were not withered husks.

I realize that I have failed you. I understand that it has been roughly seven months since I last updated. I also am well aware that it was my own laziness and nothing else that prevented me from doing so.

I just don't care.

To update you on my life, I will say this: I have three jobs, a cold, and a novel that I'm working on. I am also still trying to become a nurse. My life is complicated. Complicated like my relationship with my mother, who in spite of her claims to love me continues to sprinkle arsenic in my milk when she thinks I'm not looking. However, I am happy with it. My life, not the arsenic.

Since I have this hideous cold, I won't be writing much more tonight. Wait fervently for my next update, but not quite as fervently as Marco, rest his soul.

Peace out, pipsqueaks.

Current Location: Nailing my own coffin
Current Mood: exanimate exanimate
Current Music: The echo of the hammer

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I don't normally dedicate my LJ to the notice-ment of fan-related things, but I am a HUGE fan of "Tsubusa Reservoir Chronicles"-- particularly of Fai D. Flourite, who is (along with Edward Elric) my top favorite anime character of all time-- and felt this was worth writing about.

SO, today, armed with my intense Fai-love and all, I was casually flipping through CLAMP's latest manga series, "Kobato", when I saw this guy named Okiura. My brain, which had been out in Fuzzy Zombie Land somewhere, suddenly perked up from behind its official-looking mahogany desk inside my brain and went: "That's... Fai."

"More specifically, " I corrected him (my brain is a him), "that's Fai with dark hair."

But, seriously, I know other people have noticed it. Other people MUST have noticed it-- I mean LOOK AT THIS!





I know there are some differences, but the overall impression is still the same. It makes me wonder if A) CLAMP creators missed Fai so much that they decided to bring him back in the guise of a dark-haired bad guy, or B) CLAMP does not have a very wide range of character-attributes from which to pick.

Not that I mind, of course. Any Fai is good Fai, even an anti-hero/villain who threatens to crush nursery children under a bulldozer. "Because I'm a... Yakuza"

Seriously, that's his excuse for everything.

Kobato: Leave Sayaka-san alone!

Okiura: No, because I'm a... Yakuza.

Fujimoto: Stop causing trouble for people who aren't even involved!

Okiura: I won't because I'm a... Yakuza.

Random Kid: Stop beating that baby over the head with a brick!

Okiura: I can't because I'm a... Yakuza.

Yeah... anywho. Like I said, I don't normally bore you all with my passionate passions in life (namely anime and cartoons), but I couldn't help myself this time because I'm a...


Current Location: crushing school-children under a bulldozer
Current Mood: confused confused
Current Music: The happy squishing of school-children

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Oh, squeegums, you will never guess what I got in the mail today-- never! Unless, of course, you read the title of this entry, and then you are just a suspense-ruining fool.

I got a quilt from my Grammie!!!!

That's right, writhe in envy and quilt-lust, you losers! Go out and buy some cold, factory-made quilt to assuage your misery-- but it will never even come close to the glory of the gorgeous quilt that I posses!

Yes. Yes, I do hate all of you.

But I also love to make you FEEL how much I hate you, which is why I am writing this entry.

Actually, I sort of guilt-tripped my grandmother into making it for me; but, in my defense, it was all her fault. You see, while Dad (it's his mother) and I were visiting her a year or so ago, she walked me around the house and showed me the three quilts she was working on at the time. Three quilts for three grandkids, and apparently every other grandkid in the family but ME had gotten a stinkin' special hand-made Grammie quilt.

I suddenly suffered from a tremendous and incurable case of quilt-envy.

It's not that I'm especially fond of quilts. I don't collect them, or make them, but I do think they're pretty. And the fact that I was the only one of my cousins to NOT HAVE ONE made me sort of feel slightly possibly forgotten and somehow or other left out in a minute kinda' way.

So I was like, "Oh... they're beautiful. Wish I had one."

And she was like, "But you do."

Imagine me with a bug-eyed, tilted-head expression on my face. This will be difficult, because you do not know what I look like, so just imagine the expression on your face, and then think of what your face would look like if you were ten times prettier than you are. "No...."

And Gram says, "Yes, you do." (Confused look) "I... I made you one."

"No, you never did."

(With a more and more guilty expression) "But I thought... I was sure I did...." (I should point out here that she is only seventy and does not suffer from any form of dementia.)

"Nope." Wistfully, "I mean, you know, maybe sometime, if you can get around to it. I know you're busy."

"No! No! I mean, I... Hey, I know! Let's go into the fabric room!"

And there, she let me look at the fabrics until I picked out a pretty pink one and some beautiful batik cloth. Then, when she saw what I liked, she winked all secret-like and went:

"Well, I had that material saved out for a certain special someone!"

And I screamed, "YEAH RIGHT, GRAMMIE!!!"

No, not really. But I did in my head.

However, all that has been atoned for, now that I have my gorgeous new quilt. Now the rest of the world can wallow in it's unquiltness forever for all I care. I'm warm and happy, and full of guilty-Grammie love.

Peace out, fools.

Current Location: Admiring my stunning new quilt
Current Mood: complacent complacent
Current Music: The symphony of happiness flowing from my soul

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I assume there will be much spanking.

Well, meeshies, I didn't stay up to see the ball drop. As I've aged, I've found that I don't care as much about whether a sparkly metal ball reaches the bottom of a pole or not. I think the part of my brain that worried about that sort of thing has died an inconspicuous and solitary death.

I, on the other hand, haven't. Yet. Which suprises me greatly. I mean, I've been planning my untimely death since the age of ten, and it still hasn't happened! I'm thinking of filing a complaint with someone, as soon as I figure out who the person responsible for this oversight is.

And if I don't figure it out, I'll just send my complaint to a random stranger and see what their response is. I'm certain nothing bad will come of that.

Mom has been blaring music for hours now, and I'm fairly sure that the neighbors are going to form an angry mob and trample her sometime soon. And me, since I'll be in the house with her. Perhaps she is trying to assist me in my dream of demise.

Have a happy year, and lose that weight!

(My New Year's resolution, by the way, is to die this year. I'm pretty sure I can make it happen by August.)

Current Location: Trying to make a noose that actually WORKS
Current Mood: rejuvenated rejuvenated
Current Music: My irritated noosey grunting

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On yo' face.

Well, I didn't get fired for my crappy Secret Santa performance, but my supervisor did guess that it was me immediately. What could have tipped her off? The poverty-presents? The hideous wrapping job? Or the fact that I tried to flee the building just as they passed her the package, and had to be held down by the janitor? Probably all three.

Anywho, now that that's over with, I have a whole New Year to deal with. 2010 wasn't exactly the best-- two of my relatives kicked the proverbial bucket, my mother had to get carted to the hospital TWICE, and now my sociopathic aunt whom I would love to see spontaneously combust-- and survive, only to be attacked by a wolf-- is on the warpath because... that's just what she likes to do.

SO, I am hoping against hope and praying with all my might that 2011 will be a happy, peaceful year of blue skies and firefly nights. I PRAY THIS MUCHLY.

Come to think of it, this was the first Christmas in which nobody got probed by Stevie. However, he did try to shoot down Santa-Clone's sleigh, with spectacular results. If you didn't get a present from "Santa" this year, now you know why.

Well, other than that, I just hope nobody in my house is coming down with the Holiday Death-Flu.

See you on the other side!

Or not.

Current Location: A front row seat to my aunt's demise
Current Mood: annoyed annoyed
Current Music: My aunt's heavenly death rattle

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