NCunt: Black Cocks Only

[Kugelfisch]

Still, weak as hell. Imagine writing an adventure story with a main character that would have their world rocked from something as simple as McDonald's pulling their favourite item from the menu.

Buuuhuuu, shiny crawfish from space bagged and pummeled her a bit. Thousands of people have car crashes daily that are way worse. Get your shit together, lesbian beaner whore!

[pibbs]

Still, weak as hell. Imagine writing an adventure story with a main character that would have their world rocked from something as simple as McDonald's pulling their favourite item from the menu.

The horror!
On a side note the McRib is BACK!!!

[VoiceOfReasonPast]

I can see that actually happen with landwhales. One of my personal favorites Chantal got traumatized harder from some fast food joint having run out of the specific chicken sandwich she was "craving" at the time than the death of her own grandmother.

"anxiety fuse"
"insecurity button"

why does she describe her emotions as if they were electronic components?

Books are a visual medium.

[Rushy]

I once read a book that tried to combine Shakespeare with 1940s westerns and I thought thst was rough. This thread is really giving me perspective.

[Guest]

From fucking what did she get PTSD? She barely had a mild adventure in the first book.

I don't remember the details, and I'm not looking it up, but &'s galactic fuck buddy beat her up, placed her in a bag for hours where she shit herself.

Spic MC (Lindsey) has PTSD because she was beat up (arrested), put in a bag (a cop car) and shit herself. Got it.

[Kugelfisch]

On a side note the McRib is BACK!!!

Breathe easy, USA, the toughest times are over!

[pibbs]

Truth of the Divine by Best Selling HotDog Girl Lindsay Ellis
Chapter 2: Sleepless in Seattle
DHI Book Club Discussion by pibbs
protected by Fair Use, bitch

Sigh. Chapter two. Here's a sentence in the first paragraph.

She’d even cleaned her apartment up to her not-very-exacting standards, though she wasn’t sure why; everything was dirty, toxic, deadly Earth atmosphere to him, with its cruel sun, unbreathable air, and multitudinous pathogens waiting to destroy his systems if the biosynthetic engineered barrier that protected his organic parts broke down; what was a little unsorted recycling?

No editor was involved with this “book.” BTW Cora is just waiting for & to show like a nervous date. She needs that therapy bad! POOF! He just appears.

Again, try to imagine this thing.

The crown of his dirigible-shaped head, flaring out like a triceratops, nearly touched the top of her nine-foot ceiling. In tungsten light, his almond eyes always shone redder, his off-white “skin” slightly darker. She knew now that it was skin much in the way that humans had skin, but instead of individual living cells, his body was covered in billions of microscopic drones, which lent him some limited shape-shifting ability, such as the ability to form a syringe from the tips of his fingers, or the ability to become completely invisible.

Microscopic drones. In the hands of a more competent... person, this could be an interesting idea. Here it feels like she's just adding scifi tropes like pouring beer in chili because she heard that makes it good.

A full paragraph describing the shitty furniture in her shity apartment. What's a full-sized Malm from Ikea? Don't answer that; I don't really care.

& discovers a hidden camera in a smoke detector. So, they move on to implanting a monitor into Cora's brain. Oh wait, more on those drone things.

most of the automation he used was inside his own head, his tools willed into existence from the microscopic drones that covered his entire body, flowed through him like blood. From his fingertips, he produced three drone lights that hung in the air a few feet over her. She’d seen him use the drone lights a few times when he was studying something, and they were among her favorite tricks in his arsenal... They hung in the air like marble-size suns, but the light was soft, like warm red fireflies.

He inserts the monitor which is as thin as a hair. Then he explains, after being asked, that he wants to also monitor their bond. Because their bond is unike anything he;s ever heard of. Of course it is. She's special. But he's puzzled by the “emphatic nature” of their bond.

“What do you mean?” she asked, keeping her jaw locked, moving her lips as little as possible.
“ The ability to sense and share mood swings, this is unheard of in dynamic fusion bonding.

What does he want to do about it?

Eliminate the side effect so that we are no longer affected by each other’s moods.

Yeah, asshole, I would be worried too if I was in danger of hysteryonics like PushingUpRoses after dropping her ice cream sandwich into the toilet.

So, many many words to explain the benefits and drawbacks of being bonded like this. Drawbacks? Being in Cora's retarded head. Benefits? Less talking. And this...

It had likewise made him a quick study on the art of physically comforting her; before, she’d had to give him specific instruction on exactly where and how to touch her, which was not only tedious but wasn’t particularly enjoyable,

Ah, Lindsay's idea of the perfect fuck boi, making it all about herself.

Cora wants to put Pjs on. But to get naked in front of raptor boy here?

Amygdalines were, even by the standards of their own species, completely asexual. With the exception of their Genomes, they were born sterile, and even their ancestors didn’t experience sexuality the way humans do, because a human will, of course, fuck anything.

Fuck anything. Lindsay's World, but at least the raptor is Ace and non-threatening. The rest of the paragraph is Cora trying to be tactful in asking & to cuddle in bed with her. The fuck? Then why did you spend a page telling us these kind of things didn't need to be asked? He just knew! It was the fucking page before this one, you vapid whore!

Anyway, they figure it out. She cuddles. His skin is like “a bamboo shark she'd once touched at the aquarium.”

Bamboo shark. That is too specific for Lindsay to pull out of her ass.

With that sense of rightness, that sense of comfort, that sense of safety also came the shame. What if someone saw this? What would people think? What if people knew that this went beyond not being horrified by this but actually liking it?

Does Lindsay even remember what shame feels like?

And now, because this shit is so important to this generation, let's get our identifiers labeled and processed.

She’d felt somewhat asexual ever since she’d met Ampersand, perhaps a side effect of the fusion bonding. She’d gone to a couple of gay clubs to try to hook up with a girl, but struck out there. Then she’d gone to a regular bar and found a guy, some white-collar brobro who worked for an insurance agency or something. He had a name like Paul or Chad or Dave, a receding hairline and a round, ruddy, meaty face that could have been twenty-five or forty-five. She’d gone home with him, let him have his way, in part because she was drunk but also because she wanted to see if she could feel something. It was dry and unpleasant and painful, and Paul or Chad or whatever his name was invaded her mouth with his tongue like he was a sandworm of Arrakis. She didn’t even spend the night with him.
That wasn’t affection. That wasn’t satisfying. This was.

Again, that seems way too specific to be made up. Of course Lindsay used to call this Friday nights out.
As Cora thinks about this, she has a mild panic attack over if this is natural or not. No, Cora, it's not. It's only slightly less abnormal than being a furry. I got jokes. & wants to sedate her. I'm liking him more and more. She does not give consent. Then a wiki blurb on PTSD.

One of the hallmarks of PTSD was a loss of a sense of safety.

As part of her therapy, he wants to schedule cuddles every night. One thing about these INs and their followers that astounds me is their uniform emotional immaturity. Cora is in her early 20s but Lindsay is pushing 40 folks, and this is her self-insert fantasy. I wouldn't be surprised if they go to Disneyland together in the future.

This is so fucked up. Why do I like this? I should be with a human. This is so fucked up.

He promises to stay till she falls asleep. She loves this because like many women, as long as their needs, and their needs alone are met all waking hours then they might be OK. He strokes her. She requests sedation.

I love you , she thought, not for the first time as she drifted off to sleep. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Dude, it would be better to go back to your planet and face execution than to stay involved with this crazy bitch. Seriously.

End of chapter.

[pibbs]

Truth of the Divine by Best Selling HotDog Girl, Lindsay Ellis
Chapter 3 So Many Words, So Little Happening:
DHI Book Club Discussion by pibbs
protected by Fair Use, bitch

Chapter 3.
Cora is warned if she hissy-fits runs out of another meeting, she's fired.
If & doesn't start talking then the ebil DOD will take over. Oh No! Also OH NO is the DOD may try to weaponize what Obelus did. A refresher:

“More noteworthy,” added Stevie, “that Obelus was able to break into enough levels of encrypted correspondence that he was able to locate a CIA caravan with basically no paper trail.”
Cora suppressed a shudder at the memory of that caravan. Four CIA agents had been tasked with transporting Cora and the Fremdan Genome, a collection of what Ampersand had described as “genetic material,” which turned out to be a living, breathing alien person , to an undisclosed location, but Obelus had found them before they got there. Cora and the Genome had been the only ones to make it out alive.
“What does that have to do with defense?” she asked, shaking the memory off.
Again, that awkward silence, like her hamster had died but no one wanted to break it to her.
“Let me put it this way,” said Luciana. “They are not thinking in terms of defense. ”
It took Cora a moment to see what Luciana was getting at. “Oh my God.”
“What Obelus did, while terrifying, could potentially be repurposed by the military,” said Dr. Sev.

“If an ETI can break into NORAD after following a trail of badly encrypted emails, an ETI can probably find bin Laden”
Cora didn’t react, stunned that it was being floated anywhere, at any level of government, that the Fremda group could be used for military purposes. But wasn’t it more naive to be surprised? Of course they were thinking like that. This is America. Besides, she couldn’t say she hadn’t had thoughts like that. Not “find and kill bin Laden,” exactly, but if Ampersand put his mind to it, he could do some terrifying things, and he was in no way beholden to human scruples.
But by that same token, he could also do some good things. Great things, even. How many of humanity’s problems could be solved by technologies it was well within his capacity to innovate?
But, of course, extrajudicial killing would be the first thing they’d think of, wouldn’t it?

“But why is it the DOD that’s being loudest?” asked Cora. “If Cheney’s so desperate for a political win, can’t you just ask him to, like, cure AIDS or something?”

Because AIDS is helping to keep the fag population down, Cora, you dumb bitch.

She MUST convince & to tell them in person to fuck off... for some reason.
Cora: Talk to the mean men.
&: No! I don't wanna.
Cora: Please?

He raised a finger, placing it on her neck and grazing it upward along her skin, a little too gently. She flinched and giggled. “Sorry, that tickles.”
She felt a similar sensation from the other side of her neck—a surprise attack from his other hand, and she giggled and shied away from him. She started to correct him, but then realized he was doing it on purpose. This was him being playful.

&: Ok, sugar tits. Anything for you.

End of Chapter 3

[wulfenlord]

She’d gone to a couple of gay clubs to try to hook up with a girl, but struck out there. Then she’d gone to a regular bar and found a guy, some white-collar brobro who worked for an insurance agency or something. He had a name like Paul or Chad or Dave, a receding hairline and a round, ruddy, meaty face that could have been twenty-five or forty-five. She’d gone home with him, let him have his way, in part because she was drunk but also because she wanted to see if she could feel something. It was dry and unpleasant and painful

Man, she really is just being autobiographical. I mean, there's writing from experience, and this...

[Newhalf]

I am a little "disappointed" that the aliens, despite having evolved beyond the need for making babbies the old fashioned way and archaic sexes and shit, don't seem to get any made up pronouns.
That would have been the extra shit stain that this bowel movement needs.
And also more space raptor sex. We know Lindsay can barely contain herself.

invaded her mouth with his tongue like he was a sandworm of Arrakis.

Are sandworms famed French kissers or something?
If she's referring to the tongue and not the guy, shouldn't that be "like it was", and not 'he'?
I get it, it's a Dune reference but I can't make sense of it.