The 35th Precinct

Where the usually mighty Google failed, csi_ny triumphed. I found some wonderful Flack icons on kimberiea's LJ, as well as a few nifty wallpapers. Unfortunately, the latter load improperly in my browser, so I can't use them. I did, however, find a usuable, lovely CSI wallpaper, which now shines proudly forth from my desktop.

Roomie has sallied forth to the grocery store in search of taco fixings and Listerine, and while I await his return, I'm listening to Nickelback and surfing the 'Net in search of wank and good porn. There has been plenty of the former, but the latter is as elusive as diamond dust. So far, I've read a truly rancid Flack/Aiden fic in which Flack cries like a teenage girl when Aiden tells him she's leaving New York.

Now, I'm all for guys displaying emotion now and then. Contrary to societal expectations, guys hurt, too, and I see nothing wrong with a man crying in situations like death of a lover or loved one or being unceremoniously dumped. However, guys do not cry like teenage girls. Ever. They do not sob uncontrollably and pull their hair and beat the pavement with their fists while wailing arias of untold woe. It's more reserved and guttural; in fact, to me, it's always sounded as if they were trying to pass a hairball and a kidney stone simultaneously.

Actually, I find their quieter grief more affecting for its very rareness, and I wish fic writers would stop making male characters girls with penises.

Well, off to lunch, tennis, and fic.