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

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."

Today is Bernard Black day. Yay for Hexmas! Also, in honour of Bernard Black, the ban on Fancying Irish People has been amended to create an exception for characters played by Dylan Moran. not that I imagine many people will fancy Simon from Shawn of the Dead, but oh well.

Urgh, my head - the Miriglum and I watched six consecutive hours of Big Wolf on Campus this afternoon and I think I've finally gone insane.

Also, I do not have a 'Mertonface', whatever that means, and even if I did, which I don't, I don't make it over Bernard Black. Though I admit to finding his hair rather attractive.

All audio tapes, left in a car for more than a fortnight, will become Best of Queen albums. Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman said it, so it must be true.

Seriously though, Good Omens is probably the best book I've ever read. It's certainly my favourite - I've had to buy three copies over the years, since they fall apart from constant rereading.

Crowley and Aziraphale make me laugh so hard - Crowley's duck-sinking, plant-torture and initiative training with real guns, and Arizaphale's stage-magic, bike healing and Bernard from Black Books-esque behaviour (especially funny coming from an angel).

And Pepper. I love Pepper. "That's sexist, that is, going around giving people girly presents just because they're a girl."

I want to have her babies.