LunarCircus is back, and cliffhanger-ier than ever! —Sparkitors
Sparklers/Manklers, I have a dilemma:
See, there’s this HUMONGOUS brownie sitting here on my desk, and it literally has my name on it, written in delicious chocolatey, frosty icing. I wants to eatz it. Like, right now. But you all have so many questions and I need my hands to type!! What to do, what to do... I’ll simply have to answer as many as I can as quickly as possible. So in no particular order... on my mark... get set... BROWNIES!
Lady_Sunshine3 asked: Doesn’t it freak you out when people smell you?
Oddly, no. I’m rather flattered by it, in fact.
‘olwhatshername asked: Will you accept my magical pixie dust that will make Scruff fall in love with you?
Accept it? Girl, I’ve already ordered it. I expect the parcel in 6-8 weeks. And I can’t believe you charged me shipping! I’ve already said I’m dirt poor and that stuff costs an arm and a femur.
CaféSuave asked: What are your plans for the future? Do you plan to get married/ be in a long-term relationship and eventually have children?
Someday I’d love to have these things, though I’ve accepted the possibility that I might never. I need to find the right man first, which is what this column’s all about!
sjsnerd asked: Is 3.14 a PIE brownie?!
Indeed it is, my good sir. Indeed it is. And you want to know the great thing about pie? You can eat it for breakfast. Which means BROWNIES. FOR. BREAKFAST.
.....AAAAGAGAGAHAHAGA OMG SPARKLERS CANNOT RESIST TEMPTATION MUST EAT GIANT BROWNIE *MUNCHMUNCHMUNCHMUNCHMUNCH*...
Dont_Panic__42 (aka Captain Abbey) asked: How would you describe your scent? Are you British? What colour is rainbows and moonbeam-laden unicorns? What is your opinion on the flannel-sporting Joseph Gordon-Levitt?
Well... I smell like delicious musky citrus, I am not British, and I am told that looking into my eyes is like gazing simultaneously into a supernova and Dumbledore’s soul. I hope that answers your question. In regard to Joseph Gordon-Levitt, I’m unimpressed :( Sorry. If we're talking the cast of Inception, Tom Hardy is more ma style.
CaptainFF5 said: You probably won’t read this far down in the comments, but I just wanted to say I think you’re a really great writer. Also, I will give you a bajillion dollars, a lifetime supply of brownies and sugarplums, and majority ownership in a flannel store – just for being you!
:D It’s just what I’ve always wanted! How did you know?!
Shenanigans aside, it’s time to get back to where I left off:
It was the night of the poker party. Scruff had just sauntered over and reviewed my smell. He lifted his head a little and I looked him in the eyes as if to say, “Well? How is it?” He smiled to himself, then to me, then kept on walking into the kitchen.
What does it mean, spa-manklers? Did I pass the test? Was I wearing too many layers? Was he unable to detect the subtle and delectable aroma that is my manly allure? So many questions! I think I need a brownie.
The group chatted in the kitchen for awhile, and when we decided we wanted to sit down again, we moved into the basement. There are several comfy couches in Humphrey’s basement, and after I sat down on one, the person who happened to sit down beside me was a guy named Ned. Of course, his name is not really Ned, but that’s what I’m going to call him. I should note that I hope to strike some kind of irony naming him thusly, because this Ned is nothing like Ned from the Nancy Drew novels. This Ned is very, very creepy. That’s why I haven’t mentioned him before. I prefer not to think of him :S
Ned had had a few drinks. Evidently, he is a touchy-feely drunk. And of all the people in the room, who should he touchy-feel? ME, that’s who. Unfortunately for me, I’m not a very assertive personality, so I didn’t do much when Ned put his arm around me. I tried not to act too bothered when he snuggled me so awkwardly it made everyone else in the room uncomfortable. But when he tried to unzip my sweater o.O I finally pushed him away.
Lesson of the day, spa-manklers: BE ASSERTIVE.
Thankfully, this mishegas-man was unable to ruin my night. When I went home that night I added everyone who had been at the party on Facebook (except Nasty Ned). Naturally, this was a pretext to talk to Scruff, but he didn’t seem to mind because he added me back!! Being the clever one that I am, I waited the standard three days before messaging him and then I dropped a line:
“Hey! That poker night was a good time. What say we keep poking Humphrey until he organizes another one?”
The next day he messaged me in return. I would tell you what he said, but my fingers are sore from typing and there’s an eighteen-and-a-half foot brownie waiting for me upstairs. It needs devouring. Tune in next time!
P.S. Some of you have taken to calling me a “gankler.” This amuses me greatly.
Related post: NBK in Alberta: Poker Partay