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

The moral of this story is that if you ever get the urge to watch the Tribe right after watching Tin Man, you probably shouldn't.

( Follow the Yellow Brick Road... of DOOM! )

To be continued... whenever.

Which creature of the night are you? Your Result: Demon   Your raging id needs no chemical incentive to break out into a fiery orgy of destruction. When you're not burning, you're brooding. All you need is someone to point the way out for you.
Werewolf
Cthulu Spawn
Vampire
Sorceror
Incubus/Succubus
Ghost
Which creature of the night are you? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

Do not even try to pretend you are suprised.

I'm trying to decide what weirds me out most about the West Wing, now that Rob Lowe and his strange face have gone to travel the world and maybe learn to grow a manly beard, and I can't decide if I'm more freaked out about Glinda being Toby's new Gal Friday or the fact that Lucas Buck is the Vice President. Like, every time the President has an MS attack or Toby's crazy ex-wife crazily refuses to re-marry him because she's crazy or some handsome Republican rogue tries to steal one of Josh's many whores, I keep expecting to hear a door slam off-screen and then the camera spins 'round and Lucas will be standing there brimming with his trademark genial menace and it never happens.

Actually, yeah, the Lucas thing is weirder than the Glinda thing.

ETA:
In other, boring news, passport turned up, leak is fixed, central heating works and apart from a lingering wet-dog smell from the carpet, flat is livable again.

My LiveJournal Trick-or-Treat Haul
froodle goes trick-or-treating, dressed up as Elphaba Thropp.
ajmckay gives you 16 teal pineapple-flavoured gumdrops.
alt_baie gives you 10 yellow pineapple-flavoured pieces of taffy.
chibimarchy gives you 6 light blue mint-flavoured gummy bats.
dissident_dream tricks you! You get a dead frog.
imbeiaiel tricks you! You get a clothespin.
thestorymaker gives you 19 brown spearmint-flavoured gumdrops.
froodle ends up with 51 pieces of candy, a dead frog, and a clothespin.
Go trick-or-treating! Username:
Another fun meme brought to you by rfreebern.

I would just like to point out that that sort of behaviour is typical of The Southernator, aka Snithy, aka the Halloween Grinch. ( Behold, scientific proof of my claims! )

And in other news, ( I bet you'd thought I'd let this go, didn't you? Well, you were wrong! )

Oh my God, I hate buses. Because I was out of town last week, I didn't realise they were striking in Leeds yesterday so like a total plank I waited in the RAIN and the COLD and the DARK and then I had to walk into town where MORE WAITING OCCURED and I was an hour and a quarter late and my manager had the nerve to give me attitude, like I really fucking planned to stand outside that long and maybe get frostbitten toes. And now I owe James cake and/or a monkey holding a puppy for giving me a lift home, and that just WOUNDS MY PRIDE!

But, in gooder news, I now own the second season of new Doctor Who (Genevieve, I blame you for encouraging me to gaze in wonderment at David "way better at being Casanova than Heath Ledger, that knave" Tennent) and HAH! Fiyero is the Prime Minister's aide. It is totally awesome and hilarious and wrongsick all at once, because his voice is MADE OF POSHNESS and it's almost a parody of poshness and then he has to say "rock!" in that voice and it makes me laugh. Although, the Doctor was totally whingy when the Prime Minister blew up those stupid aliens, like slave-trading mind-trick-playing aliens are such a loss to the world. And he's like, waahh, they were leaving, waah, and she's like, yeah, to RETURN WITH MORE ALIEN HOMIES AND ENSLAVE US ALL and the Doctor gets all on his high horse about how evil humanity is, like we didn't already know that we're capable of some of the scuzziest actions in the universe. I mean, I know that, and I haven't been around for squillions of years. Also, I would have done exactly the same thing, only burnier and more painful and, if at all possible, to their children. Because nobody wants a blood feud, am I right? Yeah, I should be the Prime Minister. I'm going to make that my platform when I run for office: A VOTE FOR FROODLE IS A VOTE FOR DEAD ALIEN BABIES! Who's with me?

Also, I have vowed to cut my moaning about Temperance Brennan by at least 20%, based purely on the fact that she makes fun of short people. And encourages My Man Dave to do the same. There should be more mocking of people with genetic conditions on shows that are not House. MOCK FOR JESUS!

Anyway, I am running out of time here and there are potatoes that need eating at home, so I shall just leave you with my thoughts on Happy Feet:- it wasn't as good as the trailer made it look, Robin Williams ruins everything and Hugh Jackman is much more believable as an Elvis-penguin than he is as a posh rat from London. I would marry Memphis. YES EVEN THOUGH HE IS A PENGUIN! Except, of course, I would never cheat on Idina.

I am sure you will all be very pleased to know I survived my trip to The Dirty South reletively unscathed, and had the most AWESOMEST TIME POSSIBLE watching Wicked. I am going to marry Idina Menzel and have ten thousand of her little green babies. For real-real, not for play-play. Although Adam Garcia was totally gay* as Fiyero and the whole Scarecrow thing is just abou the Most Nastiest Thing I Have Ever Heard Of, Ever. He is made of straw! Manparts! Of straw! Oh, it's just dreadful.

Alas, some stupid whore brought her four-year-old child to the show and the little brat yammered all the way through it. Now, far be it for me to tell other people how to live their lives, but if you're stupid enough to think that taking a kid that age to a three-hour show at a London theatre is appropriate, you're really too stupid to be breeding in the first place. I hope they got run down and killed when leaving.

But ANYWAY, apart from that it was an exersise in gleeification and I can honestly say that I will be doing the "toss-toss" thing and quoting bits of the show at work well into the new year, even though nobody will know what I am talking about and will just look at me like I'm crazy.

In other news, everyone should watch Stormbreaker and be all like "Oooooh!" at the scenes that were shot on the Isle of Man, because that is where I am from and it rocks, although unfortunatly we don't have anyone as pretty as Alex Pettifer or even Damien Lewis there. Which is sad, but oh well. Also, Brandon Routh is a big gay spoon who wears too much foundation. YES I SAID IT! Kevin Spacey could kick his ass.

On a completely different note, I would like to add that it is completely INCONCIEVABLE that Lucas Buck is Kim Possible's dad. Now every time I see that episode with the tornado chamber, instead of getting all indignant about Lucas encouraging Caleb to cheat on his science project, I just feel relieved that he didn't wind up giving a miniature battlesuit with working lasers to the class hamster that rampages across campus and destroys half of the science block. Although that would be pretty funny...

*Gay as in homosexual, not gay as in rubbish. He was actually very good. Just... gay. It was strange.

Well, well, well. Once again, I must apologise for leaving you bereft and Froodless for such a long time. In my defence, the last couple of weeks have been MADNESS, of the very best sort. Kicking off with THE BEST HALLOWEEN EVER, in which I gave myself a headache with my Medusa costume, made myself sick by eating too many cakes, was asked to be a Godmother (mwahaha, the Church of Liamneeson lives!), actually got Trick-or-Treaters who weren't chavs, had a powercut on Halloween night, and took many pictures that will be used to embarrass my fellow revellers once they are staid and responsible parents. Although they can't be all that responsible, because really, who makes someone like me responsible for a childs' religious edutainment?

Laterwards, I and Snithy both succumbed to the wonders of Newly Hot David Boreanaz, in the guise of swoon-inducing FBI agent... uh, I forget what his name was, but it was stupid. Anyway, he's Totally Hot and shoots things and digs and threatens to shoot gender-ambiguous lab assistants for asking him about his sex life. Needless to say, it totally rules.

Then, as if such Halloweeny and David Boreanazy joy wasn't enough, it was my birthday, which I celebrated in the best tradition of Making People Buy Me Stuff, which was cool even though I didn't get a monkey or a dancing baby penguin. I did see the History Boys (awesome), the Prestige (stupid plot twist barely compensated for by having Hughverine and Batbale wear top hats) and the Departed (which would have been awesome if not for MAtt Damon, and when I say Matt Damon you have to imagine me saying it in the voice of the Matt Damon puppet from Team America, because that is exactly how I feel about Matt Damon.)

Also, I finally got around to watching Carnivale, which is... interesting. I feel bad for Libby, though; her mother's a whore, her father is weak and ineffectual and her sister is dead, and now I reckon Jonesy has a bit of a mancrush on Ben since the Laying On Of Hands. Also, Lodz is creepy. Like, way, way creepier than Brother Justin. Also, there should be more bears. Take a hint from Lost, writers; bears are awesome.

Also, Snithy, you will be gleeified to know that the cheque for Wicked is in the post, complete with deathly hamsters of death and possibly some lumberjacks, and that I have booked my ticket to... Cornwall or Colchester or wherever it is you live. And if your home town does not prove to be the pit of moonshine-swilling hillbillies I imagined it to be, I will be most displeased.

Finished reading Wicked. Cried and cried for Elphaba being so convinced that the Scarecrow was Fiyero, alive and returning to her. Will not, will not rush directly to Amazon and buy everything that comes up on a search for "Gregory Maguire". Have far more self-control than that.

On more upbeat note, recieved a box of rubber bricks in the post from Johnny today. No, I don't get it either. He is a strange, strange boy. Best part was note included with box:

"Watching Black Books 3. Am awash in sea of gay. It deep-cleanses my pores and tightens my asscheeks."

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.