...way out on the corner of fucked up and evil...

Once again, and I feel this cannot be stressed enough, I love fic_on_demand. And also the wonderful tenshiforgotten for writing me Thief Lord slash.

In other news, a shitty day at work. The system went down for five hours, and for every semi-decent human being who gave us their full address when asked, there were five ignorant fucknuts who huffed and whined and complained because, oh no, I need to know where you are to send an engineer to you.

And also, for future reference: when I ask for your whole address, that does not just mean the house number and name of the street. I need to know the fucking town and county, you worthless inbred streak of piss.

Spent the past few days packing. How in the name of all that is good have I got fifteen boxes of books? I think they're breeding behind my back.

Today was a fun day. Jess came over and we made cupcakes and flapjacks, and when Alan's lectures finished we went for a picnic and took Thlayli with us. Much enjoyment watching him running around enjoying the wonderful outdoors. I had him on a harness with the leash around my wrist, but he kept running around me and getting me tangled up in it, so in the end I tied it to the laces of one of my Doc Martens. Which Thlayli then managed to drag about two hundred yards up a hill, with Jess and I chasing him. We did get one group of girls who came up and asked me if he was a dog. I was like, "Yes, he's a dog. A really tiny, long eared, twitchy-nosed dog with huge hind paws and an odd lolloping run. In fact, he's a Rabbidoodle. One of those new designer breeds that's very popular in Europe just now." Idiots. Then we had cheesecake and sausage rolls and shandy lemonades, except for Thalyli who had carrots and water, and he jumped up on my lap and went to sleep. It was very cute.

Spent the rest of the afternoon and evening curled up reading "The Thief Lord", which I think may have beaten out Inkheart as my favourite Cornelia Funke book. I've never been to Venice, but just reading some of those scenes I could almost hear the cry of the gondoliers, smell the canals, feel the chill of snowflakes falling outside. It's a truly amazing book, which I recomend to anyone in the whole world ever.

And conversely, on the subject of things that should never, under any circumstances be recomended to anyone, ( The Sequel of DOOM is now up )

Oh yes. Special level of Hell, here I come.

O_o

Erik doing the Fist of Raw Emotion destroys me.

I swear to God, I will never, ever take the piss out of Gerry Butler's singing again.

In other news, I finished reading Cornelia Funke's "Dragon Rider" last night, and I have only two words to say on the matter.

Robot. Dragon.

Yeah, seriously. Even if the rest of the book had been total rubbish (which it wasn't, fear not), the fact that it features a robot dragon would more than make up for it.

Am now reading Gregory Maguire's "Wicked" and wrestling the urge to run out and buy "Mirror, Mirror" and "Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister". No robot dragons so far, but does contain an object lesson on why you shouldn't have sex with tigers who wear thigh-high boots and hang around in strip clubs. Which, uh... is good to know, I guess?

Hee... robot dragons.

*grumbles*

So last night my keyboard, having been subjected to three years of spillage and splutterings, finally gave up the ghost after I accidently emptied half a pint of boiling water over it. Yes, well, I never claimed to be Real Life Competent. Therefore today, instead of lounging in bed, playing with Thlayli and writing another thousand words of my dissertation, I had to go into town to buy a new one.

Simple, right? And I stopped off at a couple of the second-hand stores near the bus station to buy myself some books to compensate for having to give up my Day of Rest And Wanton Perving. So that wasn't too bad. Especially because I got "Five PEople You Meet in Heaven" for a pound, and Richard Adams' Shardik for 25p. Things could have gone a lot worse, considering.

Except that when I got home, half the keys on my brand new keyboard didn't work. So I had to take it back, get a refund and buy a new one.

At which point, it started to snow.

Now, don't get me wrong, I like snow. Plus I was listening to "Wandering Child" on my trusty CD player, so it kinda fit the mood. But this morning it was warm enough for me to be dreaming about doing Naughty Things with melted chocolate and Gerry Butler's sun-warmed skin, and so I was dressed appropriately. (For the weather, I mean, not for doing Naughty Things with Gerry Butler.) And by this point, I am shivering in my shitty broken boots and my toes are going numb.

So, I go to Starbucks. To get coffee. And obviously since it's above Borders, I have to go and look at the books. And obviously I have to get a couple to read while I drink my coffee and wait for the feeling to return to my fingers.

Yeah.

Stupid Cornelia Funke, why must you rock so hard? I needed that money for Highlander dvds. (TV series with Sexy Duncan and Snarkalicious Methos, obviously, not the shitty movies with Christopher "Frogface McCan'tAct" Lambert and Sean "I Ruin Everything I'm In" Connery).

Also, my Attila and Reign of Fire dvds arrived today.

Yeah, I'm so not working on my dissertation right now.

Oooh, lookie what I nicked from imbeiaiel:

Comment and I'll ...

1. Tell you what song/movie reminds me of you.
2. Tell you what celebrity/public/fictional person you remind me of, either personality-wise or looks-wise.
3. Give you one word that I associate with you when I think of you.
4. Tell you what colour(s) I associate with you.

Most productive day yesterday: whilst noodling 'round Borders waiting for friends to show up, discovered that they have At Last got more copies of POTO in. So YAY Eriky goodness for me. Also bought Inkheart by Cordelia Funke and Dracula 2001, which while being a terrible film, has the dual redeeming features of Johnny 'Sulky McByronpants' Lee Miller and Gerard 'Mister Sexypants Phantom' Butler.

Plus Virgin didn't have Reign of Fire or American Psycho. Le pout.

Also, in amazingly unFroodlish display of willpower, managed to resist buying their only copy of Dario Argento's Phantom of the Opera , despite urgings of nefarious companions. My newly-forged iron will LAUGHS IN THEIR FACES. Then it runs out of Virgin and away from temptation.

All lectures were cancelled today, so decided to make cauliflower cheese (very tasty), play with Thlayli (fully clothed, to prevent a repeat of the Underwear Incident), and read Neal Stephenson's "Quicksilver" (would probably enjoy it more if I hadn't seen Escaflowne, and therefore prone to imagining Issac Newton as a floating head with a beard full of rollers and also to muttering "You killed Folken!" at random moments).

In other news, finally got to see the new Sherlock Holmes film that aired over Christmas... ( Read more... )