Ow.

Ow.

Ow.

Spur of the minute gathering at Neighbour Dan's last night leads to drunken Froodle declaring she can't marry anyone because she's carrying David Boreanaz's children. Of course, I say stuff like that even when I'm sober, but I don't actually believe it without the application of vast amounts of whiskey.

Would explain why I've been craving pizza lately, though. Damn you, David Boreanaz! Damn you and your mighty Atlantic-traveling sperm!

In other news, the Coreys were at the San Diego Comic Con last weekend. If anyone reading this went there and saw them, I hate you and am planning to kill your family out of jealousy. If anyone reading this went there and didn't see them, I hate you and am planning to kill your family because you don't know how to recognise a gift from Our Lord Snufkin.

Also, look here. My genius has spread far and wide. I should start a community dedicated to me.

Shall update later with details of the following:

• Stupid Irish jewellery, uses of
  
• Wesley's spine-collecting activities
  
• Angelus concentrate

Have to go ask Neighbour Dan if he knows what happened to my shoes.