Turns out there's a new Tumblr-like site dedicated to questions, so I thought I'd make an account for people to yell at me.

Wrote another good five hundred words today. That's... The most I've done all month I'm afraid. University has been far too taxing for the moment. I've been assigned group assessment with a partner who dropped out. Eugh.

The new Sonnets is nearly up, but it was been since about two days since the last chapter.

First time I planned on writing it I became incredibly ill... Then it screwed up my meds... Then I lost internet and access to the documents... And now, just as I finish another scene, my brand new laptop decides that biological warfare isn't enough.

So my brand new laptop is broken.

I've hooked up the old Batcomputer to my old laptop through the E-Sata cables, which then daisy-chains onto the new laptop's harddrive to check for faults using the working display of the old laptop.

You see, the old laptop's power supply is shot, so I've cannabilized the old desktop into a glorified power supply, whilst the motherboard and harddrive of my new laptop is not operational, so I'm using the old laptop with the new laptop's harddrive tacked on as a raid.

This is three goddamn machines working in a symphony of dysfuction. I'm in heaven, or hell, I'm not entirely sure yet.

Turns out the harddrive is fine but the connection between the harddrive to the motherboard is fucked. Beyond fucked, even. This is now just a fancy goddamn paperweight and it had an assessment due today on it... And the partitioned harddrive, because I hadn't factored in that being the only thing to NOT goddamn fail.

In lighter news, I dub my three-computer circle-jerk monstrosity "Daisy-Chainkenstein" Also I have received an official correspondence with ThermalTake for pointing out grammatical errors in their ads. Hooray!

UPDATE: IT LIVES.

I love quirky numbers. Still writing, but I have been delayed by an influx in mail bombs. It's okay, most of my fingers grew back, and I brought them on myself.

You may have noticed some glaringly obvious errors in my latest featured story.

I realize they are, and still are, there, and a lot of them I was very aware of before being informed of them. There's a reason for that.

I am currently desperately in the need for proofreaders.

I used to have about four consistently brilliant ones, like Yuko Asho, but due to communication lapses, presumed retirements, leaving the fandom or just plain old boring, regular health issues, I am in dire need of new ones. Like, dire. I am almost completely incapable of self proof-reading, it's one of many of my flaws. This isn't laziness, I just see what's in my head and my brain fills in the gaps my eyes should be making me aware of, even reading out loud.

As a result, I'm leaving this as an open invitation to any and everypony who would like to be a pre reader for me.

Good Intentions (The only chapter of Cupcakes, Chaos and Crushes) is sort of like, well, a hazing ritual, a trial as you were. I've literally tried to make a story that is as enjoyable to analyze as possible whilst still containing glaring and niggling errors. Based on its reception I'm sure I've accomplished that and based on the comments I'm certain that many of you have noticed.

Your rewards for me giving you this work, this great power and responsibility (which happens to rhyme and have the same amount of syllables as 'Amazing Great and Powerful Trixie') will be to have your name referenced at the end of each chapter you contribute to and of course get super-advanced copies of everything I make. Of course, that's part of the requirement after all.

Any questions can be sent to my gmail, which will be given to any serious applicants.

May Luna see fit that your enemies dream of wearing moist undergarments.

So, I'm about to submit a Twinkie fic, but in other news:

Leia is officially a Disney Princess.

Mull that over.

One Direction? Down!

So, I've started university. Hooray. Got into a really exclusive, you beaut, she'll be right mate kind of place.

Costing me many a royal brass razoo, I tell you, lads.

But what does this mean for you?

Well!

Unfortunately, I have a very... unfortunate c-c-combo of narcolepsy, PTSD and agoraphobia.

Agoraphobia + Starting in a new school + Narcolepsy = My brain literally cannot handle much more stress, it knocks me out cold more or less. Not that writing is stressful, oh no, I mean stress in the engineering, load bearing sense. Writing is mentally exhausting and I'm busy using that brain juice to not explode. Or implode? It's pressure, so I suspect it's implosion, though I'm certain I don't want to test that hypothesis.

So!

I appreciate, love and feed off comments and feedback, that's always my biggest, and always will be my biggest, motivator at this point. It's not stroking my ego, well, maybe a little is but I'm only (I assume) human.

Most of it is just proving to myself, in whatever little way, that people actually enjoy what I write. It's one thing to see a little number next to a green tick and another beast completely to have someone take the time and effort to say "I appreciate you. Here's where you fucked up. Don't do it again. The fucking up, I mean, not the writing. I enjoyed that and I will gut you if you don't keep doing it. Fuck up and I'll gut you, which I will also do if you don't write more. That should clarify my stance."

I was going somewhere with that but uni seriously burned me out, didn't help that I was pretty vociferously abused for my... Idiosyncrasies, and as a result of a few twats it sort of, well, trickles down onto you.

Thank you for your patien- HAHA. Ah. Patience on the internet... Ahh. Right.

This was MrNumbers saying "Please don't hit me." He thinks.

So, what were your thoughts on the finale?

So, due to me being too organized and clever, my story was submitted to what I thought would allow it to be accepted relatively close to peak time.

Unfortunately, due to clever manipulation of the queue system, I accidentally got myself accepted at 3am.

Sonnets is now probably doomed to obscurity without some help. Pretty much the exact opposite of what made Movie Night an unmitigated success, really.

I'm awfully tempted to say "Fly my pretties" but I mean it in a totally complimentary way.

Did you get a new haircut, Followers? It totally looks schnazzy!

My Little Jimmies

I used to wonder what rustling could be~

My Little Jimmies

Until Hasbro's executives started messing with me

Twilight Sparkle FUCKING WINGS

TWILIGHT SPARKLE FUCKING WINGS

That's right I said motherFUCKING WINGS

And toy tie ins make it all rustlin' yeah~

My Little Jimmies

Hasbro can shove those wings right up their rear end~s.

Props to Doc Gluefoot for the song.

Whilst I'm anticipating the finale with mixed feelings, I couldn't resist making this blog post in his honour.