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

Hah! Not only is Clark's dad a spaceship, but he's also James D'Arcy's dad from that stupid film where he's a hacker and has to solve this demonic Rubix cube to avert the Apocalypse. Or something. Don't you just love genetics; one of them grows up to be Superman, the other becomes Tom "Stalker Extrordinairee" Pullings. Although actually, Clark is pretty stalkeriffic himself, and at least poor crazy Tom doesn't have to deal with Lana. So, Tom wins.

In this latest installment of Froodle's Adventures in Jurisprudence, I learned that Dworkin created a kind of super-judge, with unlimited time, resources and knowledge, to be the Ultimate Force in Judgehood. His name was Hercules.

Yeah. Seriously.

Rest of the lecture was spent fantasing about the adventures of Super Judge, as, muscles bulging from beneath form-fitting spandex, cape blowing attractively in a non-existant breeze, coiffed judgin' wig perched atop his ruggedly handsome visage, he travels the country, righting legal wrongs and beating the crap out of Lord Denning. Man, that would be so cool. I'm totally putting Super Judge in my movie.

We have a new Evidence lecturer. He hypnotised me with his checked pink and white shirt and blue tie with pink polka dots. He started talking about brown shoes and all I could think of was James D'Arcy in "Case of Evil" where he goes all fashion critic on Token Love Interest. Silly James D'Arcy. His power is to make time move at an incredibly slow rate. I know this not only because the previous century went by faster than his one-hour lecture, but because Steve's dictaphone got all fucked up and only recorded 25 minutes. Take heed! The dictaphone warns us!

About the lecturer, not James D'Arcy.

SCANDALACIOUS!

Why is there no Nicolas/Smike slash out there, ready to display itself in wanton poses at my very feet? I am disgusted with the whole world.

I've also decided to make my own film. It'll be called Space Pope: Defender of the Faith and in it, the Pope will fly around in a Space Helmet fighting Space Sin. The part of the Pope will be played by some old guy for the first few minutes, then, after Space Captain Jack (played by Russel Crowe, or, if he's not available, Stellen Skarsgård) rejuvinates him with the power of Space Magic, James D'Arcy.

Space Pope will also have two sidekicks, one a snarky Italian with long blonde hair, played by Craig Parker, the other a manly stubbled sort, possibly with a Scottish accent, probably played by an unknown. And yes, they will be working for a Sooper Sekrit Vatican Organisation. Unfortunatly, they'll be killed by a jiggly Space Nazi called Piggysaurus approximately ten minutes into the film. Fortunatly, Craig Parker will still show up throughout the film as a Space Ghost to snark at James D'Arcy and generally be smexsome, because unlike Peter Jackson, I am not a cruel Haldir-killing whore.

I'm not sure what happens after that, but I know it involves James D'Arcy and Colin Farrel having le fun du nekkid in the shower. Dominic Monaghan and Paul Bettany shall probably also be involved, although not necessarily all at the same time, and naturally there needs to be a Space Captain Jack versus Knavishly Uncool Mitten-Wearing Twat Hornblower sequence in there somewhere. Major Edrington survives, because he's Sam West and I like him. Archie dies, because that is the curse of Jamie Bamber.

I feel like such a traitor. I was totally planning on watching Nicholas Nickleby (read: perving over James D'Arcy in tight pants and a tophat) today, but instead I watched Pride and Prejudice. *sobs* I still love you, James! It didn't mean anything!

I blame Jessica and her pervy Colin Firth-loving ways.

Went to see Exorcist 4 last night - yay for James D'Arcy in a sexilicious priest's robe.

And... yeah. That's the only good thing I can think to say about this film: it has James D'Arcy dressed as a Catholic priest. If that doesn't make you quiver with Fangirlish glee, then you have no pulse don't bother seeing it.

Stellan Skarsgård is trying way too hard to be Russel Crowe, except, unfortunatly, from the part where Russel Crowe can actually act. His character, Father Merrin, has the survival instinct of a retarded sheep. Hyena!Xander could totally have beaten up those rubbish hyenas. [Possessed person] was an exact rendition of Linda Blair in the original, which I admit might have been scary 30 years ago, but is now equal parts hilarious and cringe-inducing.

Even James D'Arcy doesn't get off scott-free, as he has the most appalling fake-American accent, which comes and goes at random intervals and hurts me in my bones.

But he has La Crossbling du Sexy, so I forgive him.

Rarr!

Pre-birthday celebration with Jess, Alan, James, Scottish James and Verity. Went to see Finding Neverland, which was fantastic and made me cry like, well, a character played by James D'Arcy. Kid playing Peter had the biggest ears - no wonder JM Barrie imagined he could fly. Guy who played the guy who played Nana was Stupid Marine Bloke #1 in POTC, which filled me with gigglings.

Afterwards we went to Hard Rock for dinner, which was tasty. We had crayons and drew pictures on napkins - Scottish James playing bagpipes, Alan crying because he'd dyed his hair a stupid colour and had to shave off his beard again, Dominatrix!Verity with Penguin!Snape, Jess and I fighting over goblins and James and Steve sitting in a tree. Then back to Alan and Jess's for Cluedo, which Alan kept beating us at, even after Jess and I combined forces to defeat his Sherlockian evil.

Parentals arrive tomorrow. Shall update if I survive.

Man, James D'arcy's character in POW is a wuss. That episode where he and Larry escape and Larry gets shot and James starts crying like a bitch and Larry - who is lying there with a gunshot wound in his stomach - has to comfort him? What the fuck? Shut up, Jim.

I finally got around to watching all of Orphen: Revenge, and before anyone starts, yes, I know it wasn't as good as the first season and yes, I know it was very "baddie of the week"-esque and yes, I too felt the sad lack of Hartia's freckles and Lai in general. I still liked it, even though the second opening theme sounded like some kind of deranged Japanese Aaron Carter-type thing.

Hartia steals every scene he's in as "New Black Tiger". I nearly laughed myself to death when Majick dressed up in the costume and Hartia was all like, "Imposter!". Eris needs to shut the fuck up. No, seriously. Shut up, Eris. Nobody wants you to be Majick's love-interest.

High points include: Cleo spending all their money on junk and whoring Orphen and Majick out to some dirty old man - who actually grabs Orphen's ass, nearly causing me to have a coronary right there on the sofa; Majick having hand puppets of the whole group and re-enacting the Orphen/Licorice love scene for Cleo's benefit in Spike Spencer's campest voice ever; Orphen and Cleo persuading Majick to participate in a Beauty Queen contest and Majick crying because all the other girls are much prettier than he is and he doesn't think he'll win; and Orphen refusing to tell Licorice what happened in the previous season to make Flamesoul hate him so much, but saying he can recommend some DVDs she should rent.

Also, Majick provides further support for my "hats are the source of all evil" theory when he becomes "Sorcerous Stabber Majick" with the help of a possessed fluffy hat; David Matranga still won't do spells; and while part of me does want to feel sorry for Flamesoul, most of me just wants to give him a good kick and tell him to stop goddamn whining.

Speaking of people who need to stop goddamn whining, the quite-cool-but-nowhere-near-as-cool-as-me Hex has a few things to say about attention-seeking drama queens on LJ. Namely, when you promise not to post more poetry, keep the promise or don't bother making it.

In the name of Snufkin, writers of crappy poetry shall be banished into eternal fucktardhood. Amen.

So, I'm watching Case of Evil, avoiding doing any work, the usual thing, and it suddenly occurs to me:

No, not 'Why didn't James D'Arcy get smacked in the face with a cutlass', you heartless bastards.

That scene at the very begining where Tom, I mean, Sherlock, is fencing with good ol' Napolean-o-Crime (which incidentally, would be such a cool name for a resturant) and Moriaty says "I see you've been practising. *smirk* Clearly not with your brother..." and James D'Arcy freezes and looks all hurt.

I mean, once you've seen a couple of the flashbacks and actually met Mycroft, it makes sense, but at the time, Moriaty's comment comes across as the Victorian equivilent of 'Haha, you're brother is a fat bastard'. Which I admit, would earn you a punch in the face, but still.

Weird.

Am listening to James D'Arcy read 'The Statement' on audio CD. His voice is most sexful, but as for the story itself, I find it hard to believe that the Catholic church would go to such efforts to hide a war criminal. After all, that's time that could be spent raping little boys.

Note: priests rape, pirates molest. It's an important distinction.

In other news, Angel was very boring tonight. Wesley, blah-blah, Fred, blah-blah, Gun got stabbed, some other stuff happened. Some very minor Angel/Spike moments (yes, Vernon, Angel/Spike, not the other way around, now be told) but all in all, a waste of my time.

Sherlock: Case of Evil is green. Seriously. Everything in that film is green.

Sherlock, Mycroft, Moriarty and the token strumpet all wear green. Holmes's rooms in Baker Street are green. What I'll assume is the Diogenes club (where Mycroft hangs out) is green.

This can mean one of three things:

1) Holmes is, in fact, a leprechaun, and all his adventures take place in a magical leprechaun world
2) It's part of an evil scheme by Moriaty, the significance of which is to be revealed in the sequel, Sherlock: Case of Naughty Spankin's (which I will look forward to immensely, if only for Richard E. Grant)
3) The film-makers had a serious fetish for the colour green, which leads me to suspect that they themselves are leprechauns and that 1) is also correct. Damn those leprechauns.

And, on the subject of Richard E. Grant, who the hell chose him to play Mycroft? I like Mycroft. I like Richard E. Grant. But the combination leads to bizarre thoughts about Mycroft being the Scarlet Pimpernel, which is hilarious but terrifying at the same time.

I mean, can you imagine Mycroft Holmes being dashing?