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

Urgh. I had this whole post planned about how great True Blood is and about how Liamneeson has finally answered my prayers for a series about redneck vampires who don't fight crime or really do anything, but then I came on here and the sheer fugliness of the new profile page caused poison to drip from my eyes and now they burn with agony and I don't feel like it anymore.

ANYWAY! I hope everyone had lots of fun celebrating the holy trifecta of awesomeness that is Halloween-Bonfire Night-Froodle Day - I have been watching Battlestar Galactica and coming to the conclusion that every show should have one snarky scientist character, because Gaius makes everything so much better through his presence. I may even love him more than Rodney and Kevin, and that is very impressive because I love Rodney and Kevin so much and also neither of them ever accidently destroyed the human race, unlike Baltar. That scene where Gaeta is being a big gay liar and wrecking Badger's stragety of stragetic awesome and Gaius kicks off at him and he's like, "The whole fleet knows this man tried to stab me through the neck. And you missed! Butterfingers!" Favourite line of any episode of BSG, ever. And BSG is hardly short of brilliant lines. I'm not saying I want to get stabbed just so I have the opportunity to use it, but still.

My brother's latest plan to become a gold-hording millionairre can be viewed here. Apparently the plot involves ambulance drivers going crazy and kiling people and cripples driving cars. Now that's edutainment.

Today I had suprise cake and ate way too much at Hard Rock and watched Brothers Grimm. Does it say something about me that the only thing I really took away from that is the knowledge that people eating themselves is funny and a vague desire to see Matt Damon and Heath Ledger kiss? Also, Silas from Highlander was in it. Hi, Silas! I sure am sorry you got beheaded. Again.

Now I'm watching Dukes of Hazzard (finally!) and what the hell? Bo was such a sweetie; how could he have raised an asshole like Clark? It boggles the mind!

Yay! Happy birthday me! A most rockin' day, despite shameful amounts of both work and rain. Now I have cool pirate gloves, a creepy doll, ribbon hedgehogs (I call them Sparkles and Danny) and the ability to watch my Dukes of Hazzard DVD without mentally imagining Selina leaning over my shoulder saying "It's not your birthday yet. Bad Froodle! Put that down! No Bo Duke for you!" In a few minutes, I shall go have a delicious Christmas-smelling bath and make myself a Santa beard out of bubbles. Because what's life if you can't pretend you're Santa in the bathtub?

In other news, every time somebody replies to my last post and I get that little "reply to your post" email from LJ, I open it up and the first thing that catches my eye is the phrase "Bondage!Clark". Damn you, LJ!

And also, damn Edna for making me sit next to Cricket today, making me all flustered and embarrassed. He called me by my name the other day and I had a total Ted from Scrubs moment standing there in the library like, "He knows you name!" Stupid Edna. Stupid Cricket. Stupid Cricket's naughtily rumpled suit.

Heeheehee.

Hee.

Heehee.

Alan, Jess and James came 'round for the postponed post-birthday celebration tonight. Jess brought Cluedo, but this was no mere Cluedo. Oh no. This was the uber-special, one of a kind Us Cluedo.

Jess, Verity, Alan, James, Steve and I had all taken the place of the regular characters. A vibrator, whip, ballgag, pair of handcuffs, Jordan's breasts and Colin Firth were our weapons of choice. The locations became, among others, a sheep-shed, a dungeon, a confessional and an airplane.

I don't think I've laughed that hard in a long time. Alan in the sheepshed with Colin Firth (the lucky bastard); Steve in the phonebox with the vibrator; James and Jordan's breasts in the copy room; and Verity in the graveyard with the whip were our final results. I never did get to visit the confessional with Colin Firth, and once again I lost every game (it's a lot harder to cheat at Cluedo than it is to cheat at Monopoly) but it was still genius. I want a copy.

Parental units finally left, though not before threatening, I mean, promising to return for a week in December so that Mother and I can bond over facials, makeovers, manicures and the like. *headdesk* I wonder if James will take her out to play if I give him £50...

Jess, James and Alan are supposed to be coming 'round tonight, but am absolutely exhausted after enduring parental inability to listen to anything I say for 48 hours, cumulating in Dad attempting to hoover up while I'm in the middle of changing Thlayli's cage, despite repeated explainations about why that is a Really Dumb Idea, ie, I haven't finished with the hay or the sawdust or the litter or the food yet, all of which have a tendancy to scatter, and Mother's aforementioned "girly activities" stupidness.

Shall curl up in bed with hot chocolate and listen to Paul McGann tell of the daring adventures of Sean Bean instead.

Parentals arrived this afternoon. Sigh. I love them and appreciate that they came all the way here to spend my birthday with me, but they can be trying. Someone had knocked over our bins and gone through all the rubbish, and they decided to stand outside in the rain and talk about this for ten minutes instead of going inside where it was warm and toasty. Sigh.

Dad then proceeded to bitch and whine about lack of TV aerial and insist that I find the one he bought me three years ago, used for six months and then relegated to one of the boxes labelled "Tat" that have gone untouched since my last move. Searched a couple of boxes, couldn't find it and declared that it was gone forever. Parentals bitch and moan about the need for a TV, as if Simon Cowell and Emmerdale are somehow vital to my existance. They declare that they shall buy me one, because of course the fact that I don't want one and more importantly, don't want to pay for a TV license is naught compared to the agony they feel on being denied Top Gear. More sigh.

Birthday shopping will occur on the morrow. They want to buy me a watch for my 21st. Am already seeing scenes of hideous, overpriced wristjunk similar to Mother's diamond-studded monstrosity and Dad's Mr T-esque bling being paraded in front of my eyes. May gouge them out in pre-emptive strike against ugly jewellery.

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.