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

Writing covering letters for your CV is hard and boring. Let's talk about the Shield instead!

So, this is where I am up to:

• the Sour Dude, who was supposed to be the main boss except everyone voted for the Bald Man because they love him best, send an Evil Blond Spy to take down the Bald Man.
  
  
• Luckily Zito from Miami Vice warned the Bald Man that the Evil Blond Spy was a robot, so the Bald Man shot him.
  
  
• The Bald Man's boyfriend (who is Boyd Crowder, check it out, I learnt another name!) is really upset that the Bald Man killed a guy, I guess because he doesn't know that the Evil Blond Spy was a robot or something. So Boyd is all sad and stuff, and the Bald Man is just like, "Get over it."
  
  
• Poor Boyd Crowder can't even talk to anyone else about his Evil Blond Spy-killing angst, because the other two guys in Bald Man's Crime Army (I will call them "Tall" and "Quiet") don't know about it.
  
  
• Sour Dude pretty much knows that the Bald Man took out the Evil Blond Spy, but he can't prove anything, so he just goes around being dead sour at the Bald Man, who is like, "Whatever."
  
  
• Zito is also pretty mad at the Bald Man for shooting the robot, but he can't do anything because he's the Bald Man's slave or something.
  
  
• The Girl One's partner is gay, but he doesn't want to be so he is doing that crazy Gayness Cure thing they have in America. The Girl One is like, "That's crazy and it doesn't work, haven't you seen that episode of South Park?" but I guess Gayness Cure doesn't watch South Park because he isn't listening.
  
  
• In the meantime, CCH Pounder's friend is in love with the Girl One (she's the only girl in the show except for CCH Pounder, and so far she hasn't done anything to distinguish herself other than be a girl, so her name is the Girl One for now) but the Girl One is already having a secret affair with the Bald Man, so she's like, "Go away."
  
  
• So CCH Pounder's friend is trying to be the Bald Man's main enemy, but he's pretty rubbish at everything except being a detective, so the Bald Man mostly just thinks he's weird and vaguely annoying. CCH Pounder is basically like, "Stop trying to be enemies with the Bald Man, you'll just end up being the Lindsey and then you'll be killed by a karoke-singing green demon and everyone will laugh at you" but her friend isn't listening so she put poo in his desk. I think if someone had cared enough to put poo in Lindsey's desk way back in season one, it would have spared him a lot of heartache later.

I think that's everything so far. I went to a show last night, but it sucked. I would rather have stayed at home and watched the adventures of the Bald Man. Probably that is what I will do tonight.

So, before I start my traditional "it's payday so get thyself to ye olde internet cafe and pay off your credit card bill while swearing never to overindulge in spendthriftery ever again as long as you live, wench" missive, I would like to point out that if you don't read Philip Reeve's Larklight right away, you will burst into flames from lack of PURE AWESOME. Space! Space giant spiders! Space Queen Victoria! Space pirates! Space corsets! Space houses in space! It's full of greatness and space. It even has drawings. Truly, it could not be a better book even if it had Johnny Depp, and surely there can be no higher praise than that.

Christmas, while lacking in the third season of Miami Vice, was nonetheless a pleasent affair of not being at work, eating mince pies and watching such festive themed delights as the Thief Lord, (it has snow!) Doctor Who, (the Christmas Invasion, so it totally counts, and Fiyero is so blatently gay it is unbelievable) that episode of Bones where they all get locked in the lab on Christmas Eve and Dave gets high on antibiotics* and Hodgins is revealed to have a suprisingly good body for a ginger person... and then I got bored of Christmas and watched That 70s Show and Eerie, Indiana instead. And Fitzcairn was in That 70s Show, and I think it's a sign that God wants me to buy Highlander again. So it was fun, and quiet, and generally very joyous.

But then! Oh Boxing Day, the drama of it all. See, I had to work, but none of the buses were running. So I arranged to get a lift with one of the girls I work with, and I'm standing on a street corner at eight in the morning, freezing my ass off, when I am approached by a very large, very black, very heavily-accented man who asks me if I'm okay. So I say that yes, I'm fine, I'm just waiting for someone. So he asks if I'm working, and I reply that I am. And then he asks if I have a place we can go, apparently under the impression that ladies of the night work at eight in the morning on Boxing Day. No, no, say I, I didn't mean that sort of working. I'm waiting for a lift, for my job which is in an office. So he walks off some distance down the street, and I try to stop my knees from shaking and use my psychic powers to get Jayni out of bed. Alas, to no avail. Sleazy McUseswhores returns, and asks if he can have my number. I say that's not a good idea, and that I have a boyfriend. Sleazy replies that he could make me happy (because every woman wants a guy who uses prostitutes and assume that any unaccompanied female out in public must be on the game) and that I have beautiful long hair. I do that quick, panicky, "Oh God help me I'm going to be found raped and strangled in a ditch in Beeston and I know I said I'd do anything to get out of work but not this please Jayni hurry the fuck up!" equivilent of a smile, and Sleazy continues that perhaps I need a knight in shining armour to cut my hair for me, and at that point I fake a text message, babble an excuse and run all the way back to my house.

And then Jayni didn't show up at all, so I had to get a lift with another girl who didn't start until ten, and then I had to walk home from Horsforth and I got lost and ended up in about twenty million industrial estates, and then Holbeck, but eventually I got back so it was okay. And nobody else thought I was a hooker.

Anyway, that was pretty much the stand-out moment since I last wrote, and now I must go home and immerse myself in Torchwood, having done the traditional pay-day shopping trip and coffee with Hot Allocator Girl (whose number I have finally got, go me!) and perhaps do some Hoovering or similar domestic tasks. Although, probably not.

*And while we are on the subject of Dave, Snithy, I rewatched that scene with him and Goodman and their pillows were not touching so you just keep your filthification to yourself, thank you. Dave/Goodman is wrong. Because, the squints are like a super-awesome family in which Goodman is the Daddy and thus Dave/Goodman is incestuous and cross-generational and generally too horrible to contemplate.

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.

Bloody finally. Why does LJ insist on my password having numbers in it when that makes it so hard to remember?

Anyway, this week in brief:

Those Alex Rider novels; Yassen is either Alex's dad, or he fancies his pants off. Jury's still out on which is more likely - Horowitz doesn't seem like the kind of writer to push the boy-molesting envelope, but let us not forget that Yassen is ginger and nobody sleeps with ginger people*. Also, Alex is quite clearly not Russian.

Miami Vice sucks. I didn't want to believe it, but between Jamie Foxx's stupid painted-on hair and beard, Colin Farrel's 70's gay porn star moustache and goatee combo and the fact that the entire plot is basically Smuggler's Blues amped up and stretched over two hours, it's a dire viewing experiance. Also, playing a crappy remix cover version of In The Air Tonight is less of a shout-out and more a case of adding insult to injury. If there had been some aligator-related hijinx, or maybe if Gritty!Norties!Sonny and Rico had actually cracked a smile throughout the entire affair, I might have been a little less harsh, but as it is? For shame, Hollywood. For shame.

Alan Campbell's Scar Night should make it onto the To Be Read list of anyone with taste, anyone who likes fantasy, anyone who likes boys with wings, creepy religions, dystopian visions of the future, assassins, the devestating effects of biological warfare or, in fact, anything that is good.

*This has been scientifically proven. With science! Or at least with stern authoritarian figures wearing white coats.

Well, because BT are fucking retarded, it looks like I won't be getting the Intarwebs in my (oh so cool) new apartment anytime soon. A curse and embarrasing social diseases upon them all. Fortunately help is at hand in the form of an internet cafe just down the road from my (as previously mentioned, oh so cool) new place, so I will still be around, just not as frequently.

In the meantime, life goes on as usual; work is work (although a certain Annoying Individual has returned after three months of sick leave and you know, you'd think you'd get over hating someone in three months but no, she still does my face in); I have been watching Boomtown (So good! Lacking the homoeroticness of other, more Miami-Vice-esque cop shows but still... so good!) and Band of Brothers (yay for Donnie Wahlberg, who unlike Mark does not look like a victim of Downs Syndrome), rereading the Alex Rider books in preparation for Alex Pettifer's unbelievable hotness, getting into the Corydon books (lots of fun, despite complete over-use of the word "brazen" when it comes to describing the Gorgons) and flailing over the Miami Vice movie posters springing up at bus stops all over Leeds.

Also the Tribe has completely taken over my morning pre-work viewing sessions - nothing like a dose of Lex's super-Kiwi accent to start the day. I've seen the first three series now, and I have the following things to say:

Bray is gayer than a bag of monkeys.
Danni has the most horrendous voice ever.
Jack and Ellie are the cutest on-screen couple in the history of the world.
Luke needs a good feeding.
The Guardian is awesome.
KC is an absolute sweetheart and May is a bitch for giving Pride that rose.
The bloke playing Pride is such a ham.
Amber has the worst breaking-up-with-someone skills ever. Worse than Methos, even.
Ebony is my hero.
Salene is fugly, pathetic and annoying.
Evil!Trudy rocks.

I love that scene where the Guardian decides to raise "the true generation of Zoot" or whatever, and he gets all the preggos into one room and then he's like, "Stupid girls, how could they let this happen?" You go, the Guardian! The destruction of your civilisation is no reason to have unprotected sex, ladies. And then that one girl goes into labour and Luke is all, "Hoorah, you can be present at the birth of the first of Zoot's children!" and the Guardian's all, "Are you mad? I'm leaving." and then he just walks off and Luke is like, "Well, shit."

Anyway, my hour is nearly up so I shall have to love you and leave you. I'll try to be online at some point next week, so you can all stay tuned for the exciting adventures of me. In the meantime, eat all your vegetables, don't pick fights with the Clergy and watch out for ninjas and monkeys when you're walking alone at night.

Boo, I suck. You'd think I would learn, "No sad films before bedtime", but no, here I am all sniffly and puffy-eyed because I stupidly decided to watch A Home at the End of the World after my bath. Sob!

In other news, who would win in a fight, Elvis or Mister Wu's piggies? The world needs to know.

Although Trust Fund Pirates is, all in all, a fairly piss-poor episode (Snithy, keep your snide remarks about the general quality of a MV epside to yourself or I'll text you Sloth quotes at six in the morning), it does have one redeeming quality in the shape of Rico's weird Thing about pirates. Like that scene where they're looking at the photographs of Mueller and whatever, and Rico's all like, "Where's the eypatch?" and Sonny laughs like he's joking but you can tell Rico is totally disappointed, and then they meet the DJ bloke and he actually does wear an eyepatch and Rico is all FANGIRLY FLAIL! while Sonny looks vaguely embarrassed in the background and it's awesome because Rico is totally gay for pirates.

In other news, FList, you suck. You are all off my Christmas card list for not helping me win the War on Robson. Not that I actually have a Christmas card list or, in fact, ever send out Christmas cards, but if I did? By golly, you'd be off it.

I demand that everyone go here and vote on the very important issue of whether Sonny Crockett is hotter than Robson Green, which obviously he is, and prove once and for all that my taste in men is infinatly superiour to that of the vile and treacherous Snithy, who incidently wants to molest David Tennant's son even though he looks like Sloth from the Goonies. BABY RUTH!

Stupid sun! Not only do I have that stupid thing where your sunburn stops right where your sleeve was, so you have one half of your arm deathly-white and the other angry lobster red, but to make matters worse, it's only on one arm. What is up with you, universe?!

In other news, OMG POOR SONNY! Two episodes in a row he has to watch someone shoot themselves right in front of him and not be able to do anything about it, and then Rico's all, man, you sure are acting cranky and he's all, yes, because I just spent two hours combing some guy's brains out of my hair and OH NO BECAUSE HIS HAIR IS SO LOVELY AND MUST NOT BE DEFILED! And, and! Where is Izzy? I need more Izzy and more Tommy, and less mad French women who try to kill Rico just for interupting their bathtimes.

Oh, and QoT, I totally saw that episode where Stringer goes to economics class, and he's all trying to run that photocopying shop according to the stuff he's learned even though it's just a front and lecturing the others about the difference between elastic and inelastic product and it's so awesome because they're just there like WTFBBQ? and it's hard to be Stringer Bell because you're just so much better than everyone else.

Ow. My. Fucking. Ear. I don't know what the fuck is going on with this, but it's pissing me off; I've been fine all day, then around six o'clock it starts to hurt a little and now? I'm in fucking agony. Again! And I can't take any more time off work and I have too much stuff to do, with the moving and the finding of a house to move into and blah-blah-blah, and goddamnit Ear Thing will you just fuck off because I don't have time to deal with you right now.

On a lighter note, I know I've said this before but man, Don Johnson has some girly-looking legs. Seriously, that scene in the second season premier when he wakes up in that crazy woman's bed and the camera pans up from his feet all the way to his thighs? I thought they were hers! His calves are way too shapely, it's just not right. And also, aww - AWWWWW! - for that scene with him and Rico at the airport near the end. Awww!