If Rodney was a sex advice columnist, everyone would get over hiding their weird shit.

[toomuchplor]

linabean once mentioned her conviction that Ronon really deserves his own cooking show, which immediately struck me as a Great Universal Immutable Truth.

This, of course, led to me speculating with sparktastic that few things in life could be as great as attending a dinner party thrown by Ronon:

toomuchplor: Actually, just Ronon throwing a dinner party.
toomuchplor: Is the best image ever.
toomuchplor: I can totally see him getting this worrying obsession with Martha Stewart.
toomuchplor: But his hands are SO BIG
toomuchplor : all the crafts come out all mangled.
toomuchplor: And everyone is too scared to comment
toomuchplor: And every time he leaves the room they all lean across the dining table and whisper, "Is *your* napkin ring leaking glue all over?"
toomuchplor: "No, but I think mine has a piece of deer carcass in it!"
toomuchplor: "That's nothing! My wine charm is ALIVE."

sparktastic: ahahahahaha
sparktastic: you have to stoppppppp

toomuchplor: And Ronon bustles back in with a chafing dish, wearing these big oven mitts, saying, "Okay, who wants some cherries jubilee?" and busts out a flamethrower and sets his pinecone-and-antlers centerpiece on fire.
toomuchplor: hahahahahahahahahaha

sparktastic: DUDE
sparktastic: *dies*


toomuchplor: And then he's all, "Oh no. It was so perfect up until now."
toomuchplor: "Martha would be so disappointed."
toomuchplor: And John would heave this long-suffering sigh.
toomuchplor: And get up from the table
toomuchplor: And step into the kitchen
toomuchplor: And everyone's all, "Where's he going?'
toomuchplor : And in five minutes he emerges carrying a frosted four-layer cake complete with real orchids and piped filigree
toomuchplor: And slams it down on the charred table.
toomuchplor: And they stare.
toomuchplor: And he says, "What? So I like to bake sometimes."

sparktastic: ahahahahahah

toomuchplor: And Rodney goes all glowy and sex-crazed and hauls John back into the kitchen to ravish him with the icing bowl and cake beaters.
toomuchplor: Everyone else talks loudly and eats cake and pretends not to hear the ecstatic cries of "YOU ARE THE PERFECT MAN!"
toomuchplor: "IF ONLY YOU HAD AN ASS."
toomuchplor: Followed by, "Hey! I have an ass!"

sparktastic: hahahahahahahah

toomuchplor: Followed by, "Right, so why does it feel like I've got two mandarin oranges in my hands instead of, oh, I don't know, AN ASS?"
toomuchplor: And John comes back into the dining room all smeared with icing and looking grumpy
toomuchplor: haha

sparktastic: dude
sparktastic: I have no idea what you've been smoking
sparktastic: but I want some

Of course, another Great Universal Immutable Truth, in my mind, is that Rodney has a sex advice column that he writes under a pseudonym on the unofficial Atlantis weekly newsletter. Because who wouldn't want sex advice from Rodney McKay? I mean, REALLY.

In fact, it would be great if people commented with the sort of sex advice requests the lonely and strange citizens of Atlantis would bring forward. Because then I could write Rodney's answers and it could be Way Too Much Fun. *bg*

Comments

[calligrafiti.livejournal.com]

Dear Dr. Love.

Is there some secret Czech maiting ritual that just hasn't made it to the literature? I've been flirting, leaning over his shoulder as he fixes my laptop, and totally working the red shirts, all for nothing. What does a woman have to do to get a little Bohemian Rhapsody?

[toomuchplor.livejournal.com]

Dear Queen Lover,

In my unfortunately extensive experience of Czech mating rituals, I have found that there is one siren song that never fails to set fluffy Czech hair aflutter: it's called grain alcohol. Look into it.