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

Oh, I almost forgot! Is there a secret rule somewhere that says that to be a good policeman/private detective/person who finds out stuff about people that people don't want people to know about, you have to have a drinking problem? I'm not talking about Ye Olde Detectives, obviously, but modern ones always seem to have a problem with alcohol. Jimmy McNulty, Charlie Parker, Sam Vimes... I'd like to see a crime story where the main SUPER DETECTIVE OF WONDERMENT had some other vice. Like, maybe he had to kick puppies constantly, and if there were no puppies for him to kick he got really angry and started muggling old ladies to steal their puppies and kick them, or pawning his wifes jewellery to pay for puppies to kick. Man, that would be awesome. Stupid puppies.

VICTORY IS MINE! I have at last triumphed over the beast that is Gamestec, and having completed my nine-day stint, I may now kick back and enjoy my four-day weekend with the Hogfather, Torchwood and whatever episodes of the Wire that I don't watch tonight. Also, I would like to say that Stringer Bell makes economics both sexy and dangerous, and if he was an actual lecturer instead of a drug-dealing dealer of drugs, I would actually get up on time for his classes. Because otherwise he would KILL ME DEAD in both a literal and figurative sense.

In other news, though the Devil in Amber may lack the homoerotic misadventures that made the Vesuvius Club such a bundle of man-lovin' joy, it does without a doubt have the best opening line ever: "He was American, so it seemed only fair to shoot him." Aanywa, it is plenty homoerotic thus far and I think Miriglum is telling lies when she says otherwise.

Also, you know what I totally forgot to mention in my trauma over Greasy McPimpface and my glee over Torchwood? This absolutely spooktastic fog that came out of NOWHERE IN PARTICULAR last Thursday. Seriously, I said goodbye to HAG, went into Borders, noodled around somewhat and bought Torchwood, and when I emerged Leeds was made entirely of grey spooky greyness! And then I had to walk home and it was pretty damn spooky, but not in a cool way like fog on the IoM is spooky, where all it's hiding is boring Isle of Man-ness, but in a SCARY and UNPLEASENT way whereby the fog is hiding NEFARIOUS VILLIANS. And because this is Leeds, it wouldn't be cool nefarious villians like werewolves or ghostcars, but distasteful and everyday nefarious villians like muggers and rapists.

Anyway, I believe that's about it for tonight, so I bid you adeiu and farewell while I go and enjoy my FOUR DAY WEEKEND! Later days.

Oh come on! How can the third season of Miami Vice not be out yet? Losers. I am going to sulk if I cannot spent Christmas day watching the Homoerotic Interracial Adventures of Sonny and Rico. And by "sulk", I mean "watch Battlestar Galactica and get gleeful about how pretty Dirk Benedict is", naturally.

In other news, Secret Santas are the stupidest thing ever invented. Oooh, let's all exchange meaningless gifts with people we don't actually like, and in return, we too will get a cheap and thoughtless gift that will get banished to the bottom of the wardrobe the minute we get home! And when you say you're not going to do it, everyone looks at you like you just pistol-whipped Santa, cut him into pieces and then fed him to a bunch of doe-eyed orphans on Christmas day. Honestly, this sort of force-fed faux festive jollity just makes me want to stab everyone.

On a rather less ranty note, I am astounded and appalled by the revelation that Doctor Billy was that mean bowling alley guy in Bones who threw the superhero kid who was dying of cancer off a roof. Man, you suck, Doctor Billy. Even Lucas would have... okay, Lucas would have laughed and laughed, and laughed some more, and then built laser cannons for tiny hamsters. But still, I am glad Dave and Bones kicked your ass.

Also, someone had better tape the Hogfather for me. I mean it. Even if all I do is moan about how the guy from Hustle is totally not the right choice for playing Mister Teatime, I want a copy.

Warning: here there be Terry Pratchett squee.

I just finished reading Night Watch and... and...

Eeeeeeeeeee! Little Vetinari! Little Sam Vimes! Frat boy Downey!

And yes, I know I'm going to hell for squealing delightedly over the ickle mini!Patrician, but I don't care. Because oh my God, how cute! And ickle Vimes, with the hero-worship of himself, and notazombie!Reg with his clipboard, and... and...

DOG-BOTHERER!

Awww, he's so adorable. And Downey burns his book, OHNOES! But then he paints Downey's face with tiger stripes. And "Scag"! And "I'm teaching myself to stand still," and "Go now, or recieve and Aunt's curse!" and ohhhh it's beyond cute. I want one!

Oooh, POTO's on at the £3 theatre this Tuesday and Thursday. Mayhap I shall go, since it is taking Too Fucking Long for my DVD to get here. Plus, you know, Ten Foot High Gerik. Who could say no?

Also, look what I found - ( that Sharpe/Narnia thing I started a while back, then got bored with and forgot all about. )

In other news, Terry Pratchett + My Family = the unshakeable conviction that Ben Harper and Commander Vimes are in fact the same guy.

Black Angel, John Connolly's latest Charlie Parker book, comes out a week today. Woo! Also, he's going to be doing a booksigning in Leeds on May 10. Double woo!

Have just realised I have two three-hour exams on the same day. Boo.

Didn't pick up my maintenance grant because queue in the Accounts office was huge and full of retarded people who don't know how to form a line. Double boo.

Had Foucauldian law today - we were talking about the relationship of the concepts of "power" and "knowledge". Julie was explaining that the reason it's written "Power/Knowledge" in Foucauldian texts is because the two are inextricably linked, and one cannot exist without the other. All I could think of was that it sounded like really cliche fanfiction, and I kept snickering quietly to myself for about twenty minutes.

Watched "Shindig" last night - adore the scene where Badger is explaining about the fancy ball to Mal and Jayne:

Badger: You can't get an invite for diamonds the size of testicles, but I've got my hands on a couple.
Mal and Jayne: *gigglegiggle*
Badger: Of invites!

In other news, although I am not generally in favour of movies being made of books I like, if there was ever a movie made of the Discworld novels, Ronan Vibert (Robespierre in the Scarlet Pimpernel tv series) would rock so hard as Vetinari.

Back in Leeds after five days on the Rock of Smell. Thlayli and Erikplant both held up well in my absense, although Thlayli has that rumbled look that makes me suspect Goings On have been, uh, going on. Also his pen was completely trashed. I suspect he's been having a houseparty with Neighbour Dan's pirahna while I was gone.

Journey absolute nightmare - loud, drunken Scousers on the plane, (seriously, if I'm sitting four rows back and right next to the engine, and I can still hear every word you say, you are Talking Too Bloody Loud) shrieking snotgoblins accompanied by even shriekier velour-clad Breeders at the station, noisy Mobile Phone Rems on the train, and Burbury-clad Chavs at the taxi point.

On plus side, did get the opportunity to raid the bookshelves in Buzz's room and liberate some of my older Discworld books, as well as soon that have obviously been given to Johnny as gifts, since they've never been read. Stole those too. May have teeny tiny crush on Otto from "The Truth" as a result. Speaking of Discworld-verse crushes, am trying to remember the first time the Witches turned Greebo into a human, but am drawing a blank. Help would be appreciated. Aah, Human Greebo. How we lust after you.

Also, Agnes > Magrat. I dare you to disagree.