trapped in the cells

good deal, yes?

2009-07-06T17:55:15Z

Good day,

I’m Mr. Brama Mahamadi an accountant with the bank of Africa Ouagadougou Burkina Faso. I’m currently in need of a silent foreign partner whom I can use as the next of kin to a deceased customer of the bank to transfer the sum of 18.000.000 us dollars (Eighteen million dollars) into his or her account for both of us . This money is presently in a domiciliary account in the bank of Africa here in Ouagadougou,Burkina Faso.

If you are interested write back to me so that I will send to you the details and how it will be possible to be executed. I promise that there will be no risk as it will pass through international banking laws and all the necessary information will be given to you as soon as I receive you acceptance letter.

I wait your urgent respond and contact me through this email address :
mahamadi_brama01@yahoo.fr

Mr. Brama Mahamadi

yes. await my letter.

Fic: (D)evolution (Janet, all of ask-verse)

2009-07-04T15:37:42Z

Title: (D)evolution
Author: amand_r
Wordcount: 2,600
Characters: Janet, Jack, Ianto, Martha, Gwen, Owen, John Hart
Ratings: Rated R for language and violence
Author's Notes: This is Askverse fic.
Summary: Torchwood changes everything. Even Janet.

ask_janet @ 2009-07-02T12:58:00

2009-07-02T17:14:04Z

amand_r

Haahahhhahhha. I ain't got no pretty picture to put up. Click it. Click it good.

my fanfics

2009-06-30T20:10:35Z

a fanfics, by janet

i didn't make a header, lol. i won't get on the torchwood_three daily list. lol.
beta: gwen_e_cooper
WARNINGS FOR BITE ME.

i am hungry. this isn't new, to tell you the truth. i'm always hungry. i really want cheese toasties, but they bind me up, so the 'suit-clad-lol-king-hero of torchwood' doesn't give them to me.

that's okay though, because i have a lockpick and mad skillz. i know you all don't think i have mad skillz, but i do.

so while it took hart like, three minutes to fail to get everyone out of the cells, what torchwood doesn't know (jesus, what torchwood doesn't know could fill the medusa cascade) is that weevils are telepathic with machines, and we get out all the time, and use our mad skillz to dial the phones, order pizza and talk like sailors. when they were in tibet, i ate like, fifteen pizza delivery people. good luck finding those bodies, suckers. i hid them in really nasty places.

i work on the lock while i hum 'lancelot' to myself. atonally. it's hard, but i know all about schoenburg. mad skillz. don't question. (a/n: i bet you're all wondering what it means to talk like a sailor. it goes like this: "avast, me hearties! weigh the anchor! it's twenty five pounds, sir! arrrr. what is our destination? sir! we are bound for nipples! i mean naples! keel haul him! put a lobster in his britches!" weevils like to roleplay. you should see my priscilla, queen of the "dessert". yeah, two s's. eat it, bitches.)

the lock gives with a little pop of pleasure and i glance at the cameras that are fucking everywhere. the truth is that a bunch of them have pictures taped over them so that assk and suitboy can grope and it looks like the room is empty. the camera that points to my cell has a picture of my great grandmother beulah taped to it, but we have the same eyes, so it's all good. no one will ever know!

it's very easy to slip out of the hub. in fact, i'd make you a drawing, but i'm busy. when everyone is at lunch, i take the invisible lift right up onto the plass and stand there in the sunshine. seriously, people, all you have to do to invade torchwood is toss a couple of meat feasts in there like fucking frisbees and they all go a-running. aim for the hub pool. that'd be fucking funny.

i hate fucking sunshine, like i hate hell, all montagues and torchwood. (a/n: this is a joke on a very famous fucking play. i'm fucking well read, bitches!).

so after standing on the perception filter for like five minutes, minding the sun and everything, i remember that i am fucking starving. i want chips. and a kebab. three kebabs. and someone's xyphoid process.

i stuff my hands into the pockets of the trousers i stole from hart's crate and shamble off into the fray, like the end of that shawshank redemption movie, when morgan freeman finds tim robbins on the beach and then they have hot ex-con sex.

the end.

oh yeah. this is all autobiographical, because i'm posting this from a net café. ha ha ha. SUCKERS.

i leave you with a poem about how i'm going to get hammered tonight:

i saw him across the pub.
he saw me & his breath quickened. then he-----squirrel--
bolted (oh yes)
the chase was on.

he got as far as the alley ------wet eyes like crunchy dew----
and i asked him for a breath mint
oh i only have binaca! take it all! don't hurt me!
as if.
i'm going to vegas.
to see elvis.

i tried to get the ee cummings feel, but the last volume i had was eaten by my roommate. there has to be a bookstore somewhere in cardiff. don't you welsh fuckers ever read?

laters, hopefully never again, bitches--

*~*janet~*~

ps-- okay. maybe i'll post more from an internet café. or cousin thomas has wi-fi in the sewer junction. back off. i'm addicted. and also, i'm a weevil. just back off.

check out my icon, assholes!

2009-06-29T05:27:28Z

ode to the newport key
by janet

the first time i used an external weapon
it was shiny and thumpy
shump shump shirrump
(that was andy's drunk arse dragging it down the plass)

too long and unwieldy, rather
unlike my elegant claws. they are sexy. you should all lick them.
i digress.

oh broken window!
that was a complete accident! but while i'm here, let me abscond with this mannikin
--i need a conversationalist. one who knows esperanto.

captain assk, why did the police come?
why did i have to fall into the invisible lift?
who left that fucking thing open?
(weevils wobble, but they don't fall down)
my mannikin is wet –sloppy hub seconds, now, he will never sing for me.
bang the cell, slowly.

for once, i'm glad to see my cell. it smells like bad crisps and parker posey.
again.

the start of jandyt

2009-06-28T01:42:10Z

we started a band. it is an awesome band. i stole the bricks from the ceiling to make my keytaur (thanks, assk!).

JANDYT

andy says we're 'blaccurrent jammz improv rock jam beatnik indian' but that may have something to do with his whole…thing.

the lyrics to the first song in our set were in weevil, but they required a few frequencies that made someone's ears bleed, so i had to tone it down a little. :(

check out our sweet ziggy stardust costumes, bitches:

these are just preliminary. i call dibs on the yellow one. i'd wear blue, but it would make my ass look fat (this jumpsuit is bad enough).

all of this is made of win.

who's your daddy?

2009-06-26T18:09:25Z

Dear Janet—

Have you seen this? Wishful fanfics? Grain of truth?

Don't bite me,

I'm-glad-jack-ain't-my-babydaddy

Dear IGJAMB—

NO.

what part of "from another planet" in time and space is so hard to understand?

i feel traumatised. no wait. nauseated. no wait. hungry. it's confusing when you have so many digestive tracts.

okay, all right. let me explain how this works. weevil reproduction is a long involved process that requires a few chemicals not found on this planet, and some barry white, and sometimes there's a spaghetti dinner. but mostly the chemicals. if you see a pregnant weevil here on this planet, run. when my sister was pregnant, i almost lost a finger.

i guess it's fair to add that if you see a weevil on this planet period, you should run anyway. we like it. it's like foreplay, with the chemicals and the barry white and the spag…

wait a second.

no no.

that said, i would like nothing better than to have a kid someday. i hear that they're high in iron, and something about emotional fulfillment, and i wouldn't mind teaching little janetta or jan-to all about mauling things and moaning and bowing and scraping in front of the king of the weevils.

i miss fish face. he gave me flowers and hedgehogs.

my time in the cell.

2009-06-25T14:39:38Z

highlights of my time in the cell:

1. human chicks getting it on next door. way to score, nice one!
2. that human chick who ate her own arms. that was hard core. on the other hand, i think she ate my sister, so bad eye, human chick. not on.
3. that dude who disintigrated. then every one passed out. but i remember. i remember it all.
4. the time fishface and i watched the little mermaid on the portable dvd player. then we played scrabble. he cheated. he always cheated.
5. scaring the shit out of that dude in the chair. come on, suitboy, we were a good team! more good cop bad cop in our future, yes? next time i'll have the spray and you can wear the chains.
6. when everyone got locked in with me and my buddies. i hoped that their time down here would make them reconsider, you know, keeping me locked up, but, um, no.
7. the cabbage patch kid incident.
8. operation goldenfuckingrod.

Writer's Block: Department of Burning Questions

2009-06-25T00:59:13Z

In your opinion, what is the cutest animal baby?

View 500 Answers

raw. side of wasabi.

ask_janet @ 2009-06-24T10:52:00

2009-06-24T14:54:41Z

dear captain assk and executive cage cleaner---

these are the worst clothes ever. i keep telling you i'm allergic to poly-cotton blend, but you just stand there and glare.

assk: why is she crying?
ecc: i don't know.
me: poly-cotton hives!

i hate you all.

ask_janet @ 2009-06-24T01:08:00

2009-06-24T05:10:32Z

am i on?

fucking commodore 64 piece of shit.

fucking torchwood.