Ms. Smartarse > Recent Status Updates

The advice: "You should get a pixie cut hairstyle. And some vivid-colored lipstick..."

Sasha's understanding: "She paid for a pixie-cut at the hair salon[...] painted her lips caramel pink, and was all in all happy with her appearance."

and the caramel pink lipstick looks like this:

Sasha's constant fury is quite understandable. Stop telling her she shouldn't be angry...

... so translations include the author's name as well, now?

"You have a... chicken there."
"Oh." Arend looked down and saw a bit of white fluff peaking out from his bag. "I was afraid I'd taken it again."
"Do you often take chicken with you, by mistake?" asked the [shop keeper] politely.
"That", replied Arend, setting the cans next to the chicken, "is the least unusual thing that's happened to me lately."

... while Kim took the heap of telegrams.
"Christmas come early. One doesn't know which delightful gift to open first. Let's see. Journalist. Journalist. Harry Mitra would like me to answer my telephone. My father's lawyer wishes me to contact him at my earliest convenience. Jornalist. God."
"God?"
"An oath, not a correspondent."

"Freedom" - we repeated to ourselves, and yet we could not grasp it. We had said this word so often during all the years we dreamed about it, that it had lost its meaning.

Saying that "He said nothing, only returning her gaze seriously. So they stood in the silent, polite, English rain, getting drenched in a silent, polite, English manner, while the others kept moving further away" in English would only entice some light disgust from me.

Do it in German, and I'll be swooning faster than a romance novel heroine.

[In an attempt to inject a little honesty into reporting on the Disc] poets and bards were banned on pain of - well, pain - from going on about babbling brooks and rosy-fingered dawn and could only say, for example, that a face had launched a thousand ships if they were able to produce certified dockyard accounts.

The sudden departure of several quintillion atoms from a universe they had no right to be in anyway caused a wild imbalance in the harmony of the Sum Totality which it tried frantically to retrieve, wiping out a number of sub-realities in the process.

I like the wish fulfilment aspect of it, but at the same time, it also puts me in mind of a lot of fanfiction. Not bad ones, just...

"Jiyoung definitely wanted to look responsible, to care and raise her child in an exemplary manner. But she didn't want to hear others tell her how great she was, or how proud she made her environment. She felt that, these kinds of compliments took away her right to be exhausted."

Too many references to "beautiful bosoms" for my personal interests, but the story's intriguing.

A rather dry writing style, but the content is sufficiently addicting to make me keep reading. I'm hoping to find out that the monotone narrative style is chosen for a specific reason though, rather than either dismal writing capabilities or laziness.

“You got hold of Henryk Engineer’s secret address, at least.”
“Do you read my messages?”
“Only the relevant ones.”
“Excuse me?”
“You also got a rather hot naked picture,” says Kiki. “You stared at it for a whole 128 seconds. But it really was very tasteful, admittedly.”
“You read my emails too?”
“Only when I’m bored.”

“Look. It won’t rain today.”
“But just look out the window,” says Denise. “It’s raining right now.”
Martyn looks out the window, then back at his [tablet], then back out the window.
“The rain must be some kind of mistake, because it’s not raining. That’s what [app] says, anyway. And the [app] forecasts are unbeatable, at least since the company began to adjust the weather to fit its forecasts where necessary.”

Generally speaking, there are three possibilities: The super intelligence could be benevolent toward us, to varying degrees, it could be hostile toward us, again to varying degrees, or it could be indifferent to us. The problem is that even an indifferent God could be catastrophic for us, in a similar way to how we’re not really hostile toward animals and yet we’ve destroyed their living space regardless.

Feeling better by the minute, I told I would never marry him or anyone else who didn't love Kit and Guernsey and Charles Lamb.

Publisher: Perhaps in this case you should refrain from throwing the book at the audience afterwards.

Author:I did not throw [the book] at the audience. I threw it at the elocution mistress. I meant to cast it at her feet, but I missed.

... I'm supposed to finish this by Thursday. So the bug question now is: to sleep or not to sleep. XD

Der gefesselte Weihnachtsbaum -3*
Weihnachtsmanns letzte Tour - 2*
Weihnachten mit Abstand - 2.5*

Eine weihnachtliche Fahrt nach Friedrichsgabe - 2.5*
Schnee und andere Katastrophen - 3.2*

Der verlorene Weihnachtsmann - 1.5*
Weihnachten im frenden Land - 2.5*

Die Heimkehr - 2*