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

Man, it was bugging the shit out of me that I couldn't remember where I'd seen the woman in the recording Mal and co. find on Miranda, and I just realised, she's Miss Isringhausen from Deadwood. Although personally, I find it hard to believe that a woman who can stand up, unaided, to the machinations of Al Swearengen while also having the self-control not to beat the shit out of Alma Garrett every time she opens her bitch mouth, isn't a match for a bunch of Reavers. According to the IMDB, she was also the hooker that pretended to have the stigmata during one episode of Nip/Tuck, although I only vaguley remember her, being more focused on what a complete asshole Sean was being about the Church in that episode.

And in completely unrelated news, oh my God Murdock is in an episode of SG1! And he wears glittery slippers and yells at Jack and it's way, way too funny and then he gets all narked off about people ruining his garden and Jack's like, "Heh", but all Daniel does is moan about his parents getting squashed by an obviously made-of-rubber monument thingie falling on them. God, Daniel, do you have to whine every time someone close to you dies? Jackass.

Usually it's pretty cool when you discover that people around you are into something you're just getting interested in - they can tell you stuff and you can borrow their DVDs and laugh about bad things happening to Sawyer together. But then you feel bad because they have Big Important Theories about stuff and they're all like, "the Island represents Purgatory" and then proceed to explain why this means you are not, alas, free from Boone, King of Monobrows, because nobody dies in Purgatory, and you're sitting there thinking, "Man, I would so do Naveen Andrews" and that represents your entire contribution to the fandom.

Also, the Others. Pretty much Reavers, am I right? Only Reavers with a grudge against French people, so good Reavers, insofar as this is possible. Useful, Alliance-slaying movie!Reavers, rather than mean series!Reavers with creepy interior decorating skills.

In other news, my rota is all messed up again and so I have to work this weekend, which combined with the fact that I forgot to ask someone to record the A-Team Reunion Special last night means that someone is going to die. And by "someone" I mean "a bunch of homeless people because nobody cares about them".

On a lighter note, PlayUSA emailed me to let me know that the third season of XME should be winging it's way to me in the near future, so expect much babbling about Pietro and Lance in the coming weeks.

I seen it! I seen it! I seen the episode of the A Team with Face and the Cylon! Now I can die happy.

In other news, I have determined that the reason I don't like Lorne Green!Adama as much as Edward James Olmos!Adama (aside from the fact that EJO was in Miami Vice, and everyone who was in Miami Vice is about a million times cooler than everyone who wasn't in Miami Vice) is because Edward James Olmos!Adama actually uses Starbuck for stuff rather than having this pilot who kind of floats around when not being used as a sidekick or having adventures that result directly from their own stupidity.

It's like, that whole Count Iblis thing? And Adama and Apollo are tooling around with Operation Too Complicated To Actually Work, and Apollo ends up getting his dumb ass shot by a spooky space-pig (for something made in the seventies, that scene actually did shit me right up, though I suspect it was because it gave me Lord of the Flies flashbacks), when any sensible person would have realised that the best way to deal with a guy who can read thoughts is to send someone who has absolutely no thoughts to read whatsoever. It would be awesome! Because they'd all be there in the War Room and whatever, and it would be like:

Count Iblis: *mindread*
Adama!thoughts: *Operation Too Complicated To Actually Work*
Count Iblis: *mindread*
Apollo!thoughts: *missing pilots* :(
Count Iblis: *mindread*
Starbuck: ......
Count Iblis: *mindread*
Starbuck: ......
Count Iblis: *mindread*
Starbuck: ......
Count Iblis: ...fuck.
Stupid Fucking Robodog: Yap!
Apollo!thoughts: *hate*

And then Count Iblis would decide that Starbuck had some kind of super-advanced mental abilities ("He's not stupid, he's advanced!") and that it was too dangerous to bother tooling around on the Galactica anymore, and he would leave but totally kill Sheba first, because she's annoying, and everyone would be pleased, especially me.

If they made a modern-day remake of the A Team, LL Cool J would totally play BA. Richard Dean Anderson would be Hannibal, because hey, Jack O'Neill pretty much was Hannibal for the 90's, Topher Grace would be Murdock, and either Ashton Kutcher or Sean Williams Scott would play Face, depending on whether there was a way to fix Sean Williams Scott's horrible eyebrows.

Also, Bo Duke is not fat, and anyone who says different is going to find parts of their stupid little Spy Puggle strewn all over their bedroom floor when they come back off holiday.

Urgh. What the fuck is Cassandra doing in the A-Team? Isn't it enough that she must periodically irritate me in Highlander (3000 years ago, get the fuck over it, bitch!), now she has to sneak into my other fandoms too? Not to mention, if there were ever two fandoms that should never, ever be mixed, it has to be Highlander and the A-Team. Except for Mr T, because he fits in everywhere, foo'!

Mary-Margaret Humes, however, is awesome and totally allowed to be in the A-Team, because people who were in Eerie, Indiana rock and should show up unexpectedly in more shows that I watch.

Man, it would be so awesome if Mr T guest-starred in EI...

Vague attempt to do something other than sleep and cough sadly on my day off ended in ignomious defeat today after I dozed through three consecutive episodes of the A Team, waking up to various scenes that made even less sense than usual, including Face getting married to a nun, Amy putting explosives on hubcaps and Murdock being a horse rustler. Normally that stuff wouldn't phase me, but the fact that I slept through any explainations, however flimsy, made everything far too confusing for my cold-fuddled brain.

On plus side, I now feel quite a lot better, and am well enough once again to bitch and moan about Face's stupid ironed jeans and pastel sweaters. Pastels are the work of the Devil.

I swear to God, Dirk Benedict is the world's bounciest human being. It's like his feet are made from tiny trampolines. I still don't think he could take Katee Sackhoff in a fight, though.

My feet, however, are not made from tiny trampolines and are very sore from hauling massive bags filled with Lush joy back from the train station after going to the party in York. And now I have exactly zero monies, and fail at life. On the other hand, I did meet some shiny cool people and also, did I mention I possess bags of pure joy? And the second season of the A Team (which certain filthy Southerners who shall remain Snithy will not be getting to watch on account of them being dirty, dirty whores) and hot chocolate in Darth Vader's head.

So in fact, I win at life, and I'm going to have a bath and then watch Dirk Benedict being bouncey, and wonder who would win if he and John Connolly got into a fight for my hand in marriage.

People who think that Murdoch is better than Face are cripples, puppy-eaters and probably French, and they will be damned to an eternal Hell by Liam Neeson for their crimes. So there.

In other news, I do not get the point of Russia. Maybe it's one of those things non-Americans don't understand, but I don't see why they're always the big threat in movies. I mean, why? Russia's crap. Sure, they have loads of palaces and whatever with all that gold bling, but the weather's shit and the general population is poor. All anyone ever does there is drink strong liquor and eat potatoes. It's basically Ireland with less leprechauns.

Russia fails at life.