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

Am sitting here with Leonard Cohen on the stereo, sipping from a Darth Vader head filled with hot chocolate, Baileys and whipped cream, stomach filled with a delicious meal of sausage and mash and fresh from a relaxing bath with scenty-good Lush products. Combined with the fact that I spent all day watching the second season of SG1 and making fun of Daniel's hair, Gay Archeologist Hat and general unbelievable rubbishness, (seriously, is there any situation he can't make worse? Jeez, I thought he was a dork in the later seasons, but clearly the Daniel I knew was merely a pale reflection of the vision of True Dorkiness and Bad Hair that is Early!Daniel) am in a rather good mood. Long may it continue!

If you listen real hard, you may be able to hear my blood singing. And what is it singing, you ask? Why, the Ballad of Jayne. And why should my blood, more notable for carrying oxygen to my body parts than for harbouring any musical attributes, be singing in such a jaunty fashion? Because I am going to see Serenity tomorrow. Seriously, I don't think I've been this excited about something since I was a mere Froodlet on some long-ago Christmas Eve. Because SQUEE! Jayne on the big screen!

I have to go listen to Leonard Coen or something before I give myself a Fangasm-induced heart attack.