b3ta.com user Auntie
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AKA Snowgrouse. Diminuitive geek chick. Compensates for it by making a lot of noise, most of it with an appalling sense of humour.

Shortarse. Told you. And a sad old-skool Whovian, yes.

Closet Finn. Honourary Brit at any rate. FACT.

Recent front page messages:

Mustafa Bindun?

I bet that would be a hit if ThinkGeek went and produced it...
(Sat 4th Feb 2006, 12:15, More)

Best answers to questions:

» DIY fashion

Genderfuck to the max
Wasn't really a fashion thing, but when I was 14 or so and the 'rents were off on holiday, I went to school dressed as a Baroque fop. That screwed with people's heads, as what do you call a girl dressed as a very camp man, complete with a drawn-on curly moustache and frills everywhere? Muahhaha.

The silliest thing about it was that I considered myself to be completely straight back then, and sneered at the whispers of "...yes, kids tend to experiment with their sexual identity at that age"... nnnyeess. Of course, now I'm happy in the knowledge that I am what I am: a 17th century gay man.
(Fri 25th Aug 2006, 18:51, More)

» I hurt my rude bits

Ribbed, not for pleasure
Never again am I going to have sex with a ribbed condom, at least not the sort with little bumps on. At age 17 my then boyfriend decided to go for a tickly one which was more of a Fucking Agonising Scrapy One for me--a condom-covered willy being pulled out covered in blood is not a pretty sight, no. And I'd just expected needing lube, not something that looked like a period... What sort of a minge do you have to have if you need one of those? One made of steel or something? *shudder*

Dalek bumps or not, I'm drawing the line there.
(Fri 14th Jul 2006, 17:02, More)

» Never Meet Your Heroes

Cult TV folks
I don't have really nasty stories to tell, lots of skiffy actors I've met at cons have been nice and polite (I must've met them on their good days). Peter Davison was a bit of a boring grumpy bugger (confirmed over the years by others), but there's good grumpy and bad grumpy. Good grumpy was Gareth Thomas (the Blake's 7 bloke) ranting for a whole evening about how shite reality tv was. I agreed, of course, but even if I hadn't, well... you don't want to get on the wrong side of a big old Welsh bloke who'd had so much wine the bar ran out that night.

Paul Darrow, on the other hand, is disturbingly sleazy and full of himself. I got him to sign my boyfriend's B7 annual but he was far too busy ogling down my shirt and even drawling "it's not her hair I'm looking at" to his wife(!) who was busy fondling my ginger tresses. PD's a gent but a lecherous self-obsessed one at that.

Biggest wanker cred has to go to Anthony Stewart Head, though.

My mate used to work for a tv/movie production company thingummy at their reception. Being Finnish and not into Buffy or Little Britain, she got thoroughly put in her place by Ant Head who had a right "DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM" fit at her. He was either drunk or high or just badly hungover and sat on some "atmospheric" candles, burning his leather jacket and then loudly claiming he was going to sue the company for the price of the jacket. Dunno if he ever did, but what a twunt.
(Fri 26th May 2006, 21:43, More)

» Messing with the Dark Side

Not necessarily evil, but fun.
Well... I'm Pagan, y'see, and the funniest things ever have happened in the woods with mundanes walking their dogs suddenly coming face to face with a bunch of rather eccentric people in dark robes and with axes (for firewood, natch). One guy thought he was clever (after stupidly staring at us preparing a nice little ritual space) and came up to us saying "ah, you're those role-player types, aren't you?" My friend just grinned and said "no". The guy boggled and departed rather swiftly.

The best thing about it, though, was his dog going around our circle twice clockwise, sniffing it happily and trotting off. At least he was cool with what was going on.
(Thu 20th Apr 2006, 19:04, More)

» Airport Stories

NOT pining for the fjords
The police at Oslo airport are fascist wankers. When I had to change flights there, the fuckers at customs *set their drug dog after me*, as in, URGING IT to go after me, as if it had sniffed something--I don't even smoke pot or anything, all my trousers could've smelled of was cat. But no. I had a long leather coat so obviously this meant I was An Evil Church-Burning Devil-worshipping Druggie. I was in a terrible rush anyway just to get to my connecting flight, but the fuckers strip-searched me and my hand luggage TWICE (once in customs and twice at security), as if once wasn't enough. The whole fucking flight was delayed because the wankers just wouldn't believe I wasn't carrying anything.

So, my advice is, never, ever take a flight where you have to change at Oslo. The Norwegian police are militant tossers.
(Fri 3rd Mar 2006, 16:06, More)
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