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

Oh no, you guys, a terrible thing has happened! See, there I was, innocently enjoying a day filled with zombies and/or Cillian Murphy, minding my own business, not doing anything mean to anybody (for a change). And I'm about half-way through 28 Days Later, and part of me is enjoying the zombie monkey action while another part is wondering why Cillian Murphy insists on starring in films that, with the exception of Batman Begins, either suck or require him to be not-hot*.

And then. THEN! I realise that the evil Army dude who keeps zombies chained up in his garden, stupidly within reach of clean laundry, is Christopher... well, I can't remember how to spell his last name, but the Potato-Headed Doctor Who! And he's all, "Oh Cillian Murphy, I shall make you my own personal Boy Wench," and Cillian Murphy is all, "I would rather be stabbed in the throat with a PEN!" and then violence happens, and now my brain is all, "Dude, we should write some kind of Doctor Who/28 Days Later crossover with perhaps ADDED JACKSON RIPNER and inappropriately feminine scarves!" and I am entirely disgusted with myself.

Although not so disgusted that I didn't immediately go looking for such fic, and feel disappointed when I found none.

Oh, and also? The Wind That Shakes The Barley is SHIT! All of Ireland should be nuked in punishment for that film. Fuck you, Ireland, even Skeet Ulrich and JAMES REMAR cannot save you now.

*Please note, I am not denying that he was very pretty in Breakfast on Pluto, it's just that my own personal preference for Cillian Murphy does not extend to Fishnet Stockings Flavoured Cillian. Unless he gets it on with Dakin. That would be acceptable.

I return!

After two weeks in a desolate wasteland of cardboard boxes, irate rabbit and total lack of an internet connection, I have at last managed to find my way home to Livejournal. You may all remove the black mourning bands from your arms now.

During my soujourn in the arid plains of Internyet*, I have had many adventures, mostly involving trips to the park accompanied by my nobel bunny companion (who, it transpires, likes to chase squirrels, thus proving my theory that he secretly believes he's a cat) and trips to the cinema with my no less nobel but somewhat less soft, fuzzy and strokable human friends.

Went to see Batman Begins, in which Liam Neeson is a bondage ninja, Cillian Murphy is pretty, Micheal Caine does not say "You were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!" (woe!), Morgan Freeman is awesome and Gary Oldman is... really skinny. And short. Also, Katie Holmes does not get shot in the back of the head with a nail gun, which is pretty much the only flaw in the entire film.

Did I mention that Liam Neeson was a ninja? That is so awesome. I'm going to get a little Ninja!Liam Neeson doll and make him wrestle in a homoerotic manner with fight my Jedi!Liam Neeson doll.

Afterwards, we were debating whether to watch Saw or Red Dragon, and we got to talking about the difference between horror movies that scare you in a fun, enjoyable way - like a rollercoaster - and horror movies that leave you a sweating, shivering nervous wreck who can't sleep for two days *cough*the Ring*cough*. Then Jess suggested Miss Congeniality 2...

Froodle: *laughter*
Jess: What?
Froodle: I'm sorry, it's just we're talking about movies that inspire fear and horror and you mention a Sandra Bullock film.
Alan: Well, she is horrifying.
Froodle: I didn't watch 28 Days Later when it first came out, despite everyone telling me it was awesome, because I got confused between it and a Sandra Bullock film called 28 Days.
Jess: I can't picture Sandra Bullock in a zombie movie...
Froodle: Are you kidding? Most nightmarish thing ever - instead of monkeys, a bunch of stupid hippies unleash the terror that is Sandra Bullock upon the world.
Alan: Everyone who exchanges bodily fluids with her becomes a talentless, irritating bint whose very presence makes any film fifty times more annoying than it already was.
Froodle: Oh God, the London underpass filled with hordes of slavering Sandra Bullock clones! Only Cillian Murphy can save us now!
Alan: Are you kidding? Fear gas is useless against the reality of a thousand Sandra Bullocks.
Froodle: He will trample her with his magical Fear Horse while shielding himself from her evil with his Potato Sack of Immunity!

*This is a pune, or a play on words.