Uxorial Pictures, 3/13/07

22 Comments on “Uxorial Pictures, 3/13/07”

  1. I’m not very smart and had to look up what “uxorial” means.

    Turns out it means “picture which is not of Ghlaghghee”.

    Or something like that.

    The Official Ghlaghghee Fan Club

    PS – Just kidding, Krissy is hot and all that and those are yet more great pictures. How did you learn to take such excellent photos?

  2. Darn you for making me look up uxorial. At least in my defense, firefox’s spellcheck thinks it’s misspelled. :)

    Nice shots, and if that’s recent, your snow really is all gone…

  3. You know, I just finished reading The Sagan Diary last night, and coupled with this posting, did you use your wife for the mental and picture image in your book?

    The Jane Sagan in the book has the same sculpted face, chin, cheekbones, nose and lips.

    If that’s not a way to immortalize your wife, I don’t know what is!

  4. Yes, Krissy is the model for Jane in the illustrations for TSD. Jane doesn’t look exactly like her, but they could be cousins.

  5. Hmm, yeah, that might be a little hard to explain.

    “But, but, Honey, you were at work and the cat was here and available.”

    “Don’t you have other pictures of me you could have used?”

    (at this point, John’s lucite number necklace begins to flash and beep as he coordinates with Norman to come up with the right answer)

  6. Very nice. It’s good to have a willing and attractive model. I especially like the 1st two photos. Filter’s a wee bit heavy on the last one. Kind of obscures the lady’s fine features.

  7. olddog299 – Short, fat, ugly troll seeks bridge to haunt and folks needing molesting of the mind. Beware climate change as the Orcs are again ascendant.

    A most praiseworthy visage.

  8. chang, not only did I need to look up uxorial, I had to look it up the last time Scalzi used the word. Why didn’t I remember what uxorial meant? Will I need to look uxorial up the next time John uses the word? Who knows…

  9. Damn you, Scalzi! I never have to look up words. I am the pedant’s pedant. My secretaries have been reduced to tears trying to spell the words I use. One swore that I intentionally drove her to the dictionary at least twice a day. Now I have been humbled by having to drop to my knees and propitiate the Great God Google to find out what “uxorial” meant.

    Revenge will be mine.

    Old Jarhead

  10. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me
    Chang, for rizzle.

    Lanna, are you referring to the real Chang or the false chang?

    I had to look it up twice, too. I’m brain recessive.

  11. Setting: An appearance on the upcoming book tour.

    Scene: Scalzi behind a table on which are artfully piled stacks of hardcovers of TLC and its predecessors. He dressed in Author Casual and wearing a supremely confident and slightly sardonic smile as fans beseech him for trenchant observations, pithy comments, and advice on how to make as much money as he does.

    Enter stage right: eclectically dressed man (ecd)of indeterminate age, slightly wild eyed, somewhat out of breath and with a confrontational mien. his shirt displays a too-long quotation of some sort referencing bad blood between Etymologists and Philologists. He speaks:

    ecd: “Putting on a few pounds aren’t you Scalzi? Still have that problem with abligurition, eh?

    JS: “Whaaa?

    ecd: “Posting pictures of Krissy so we will know you are too cool to marry a bufarilla or a callet”

    JS: “WTF?”

    Security Guard enters Stage Left:

    JS: “Guard – please escort this man out. He obviously is suffering from some sort of linguistic Tourette’s.”

    ecd: “You can’t get rid of me, Scalzi! i’ll be back – me and my lalochezia! Cause me to refer to the dictionary will you. Revenge will be miiiiiiiiinnnneee! (Guard administers rabbit punch.)

  12. False chang? Say what? I am not chang, I’ll have you know.

    You can tell my posts from the other chang by my Ghlaghghee obsession (which he lacks, to his discredit).

    Ghlaghghee rocks!

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