More Memage, and LJ is still being a dick

[omorka]

. . . Or iJournal is broken, but I don't think anything about it has changed. I can't get at half my icons, and if I want to set something friends-only, I have to do so from the web interface.

Grr and arrgh.

Anyway, survey-ish thing ganked from scarfman:

Post a single sentence from each WIP you have (or as many as you want to pick). No context, no explanations.

These are in no particular order.

I'm doing everything I can to make sure we don't get charged for, or blamed for, her mistakes.

He had enjoyed his chemistry classes immensely, but he was fundamentally interested in forces far more than molecular interactions.

Something that looked a lot like a tractor crossed with a hedgehog rolled out of the garage, straight for the Jeep.

He couldn't hear their conversation, and given how likely it was that he was the topic, he decided that not eavesdropping was more important than letting them know the shower was free.

Maybe, when we're not all afraid of each other, love is transitive.

The idea offended his idea of free will, despite his having experienced it and still being as willful as ever.

Not pretending I'm not using you or not pretending I don't know?

But to someone used to, say, the teeming masses of Los Angeles, or even Newark, they seem, if not silent, then at least blissfully peaceful.

Speaking of tarps, where's my uniform?

But he, himself - he was a novel tchotchke, not of this world but eager to taste it, and that was almost like bait.