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

Dudes, I have discovered the most beautiful book in the history of mankind: Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. As you may infer from the title, it is literally Pride and Prejudice rewritten to include zombies. And, in a couple of instances, ninjas. And it is lovely! Colin Firth should totally return as Mr Darcy for the zombilicious TV version of it.

Mr Darcy: Vampyre, however, is as lame as the mere fact of spelling vampire with a Y would suggest. It's pretty much Twilight if you changed Cubehead and Insipid Twit's names to Darcy and Elizabeth.

Also, I saw the Dorian Grey film over the weekend and it was a bit disappointing and melodramatic. Firstly, Colin Firth is too good an actor for him to be cast alongside not-very-good actors (coughBenBarnescough) because he completely shows them up, and secondly the whole thing is totally serious and doesn't laugh at its own over-the-top absurdity or in fact be funny at all. It's literally like, OH MY GOD THE PAINTING MOVED! IT'S SO TERRIBLE! ARGH I AM SO SCARED! SURELY EVERYONE WILL BE TERRIFIED BY A PICTURE WITH MOVING EYES, UNLESS OF COURSE THEY HAVE SEEN ANY EPISODE OF SCOOBY DOO EVER! Whatever, Ben Barnes. Come back when you have actually learnt to express an emotion instead of standing around smiling like a gormless idiot.

I'm watching Carnivale now; man, Ben's family suck so much. Old Cherry Blossom Road is pretty much Carnivale does Deliverence, which is kind of ironic given that being forcibly sodomized by hillbillies is pretty much the only terrible thing that doesn't happen to poor Ben over the course of the series. "Squeal like a pig, Ben Hawkins!" There's got to be a special level of Hell for people who ass-rape the Avatar of Light.

And on that note, I watched Pulp Fiction at the weekend and what is the deal with hillbillies and anal violation? It's like, your recessive gene count gets to a certain level and all you can think about is corn-holing the next unsuspecting fool who passes through your derelict shanty town.

Man, I'm dumb. I have allowed myself to get sucked into the madness that is CreepyPasta and now I am so creeped out that I can't sleep or even get off this sofa in case something reaches out from underneath and grabs my ankle (totally possible, given my lack of housekeeping-fu). I just got out of the shower and literally, I was standing there under the spray thinking, "Don't close your eyes, don't close your eyes, oh God, shampoo in my eyes, don't close them, don't close- oh God the pain, oh it burns, no, keep them open, don't close, don't close!" for the full twenty minutes. Then I had a panic attack when the bathroom door got stuck because I thought there might be a clown hiding behind it waiting to get me, and then the stupid fucking energy efficient bulbs in the lounge took ages to come on and it was pitch black and now I am made entirely from irrational, stupidity-induced fear. In conclusion: I suck, and should never be allowed on the Intarwebs.

On a sort of but not really related note, why is the 13 Ghosts of Scooby-Doo not out on DVD, when that piece of shit new thing where they all have iPhones and other such bullshittery can be purchased in its' entirety? Fuck you, Hanna Barbera, you are ruining Vincent Price Day before it even starts. Dicks.

Anyway, I need something very distracting and utterly devoid of creepiness to calm me down, so I'm going to raid my stash of Emergency Porn for some Jonah/Jake Green slash that I have saved for exactly this kind of situation, and bid you goodnight.

La! Well, that was more fun than being attacked by a swarm of roboinsectobots, even if they were wearing hats. I've just got back from three days in Haye-on-Wye, and yes, Snithy, it does exist although it turns out I was wrong about the houses being built from books and eating books and the people in fact being talking books with legs, but none-the-less, it was booktastic and now I have absolutely no money for the rest of the month. But I do have several beautiful illustrated books on fairytales and, for reasons that shall go unexplained, two plant holders, a Scooby Doo board game and a bag of paper mache skulls. Which proves that even in a town made entirely from books, I will find a way to spend my money on crap. And blame it on Miriglum, who blatently encouraged me.

In other news, I am now seeking to unravel one of the greatest mysteries of the world. No, not "Can homies and lumberjacks ever be friends?", nor even "What good are shoes without cute animals on them?". Nay, I fear the question I seek to answer is even greater that these. Namely:

Is the Nightmare Before Christmas a Halloween film or a Christmas film?

Wish me luck, friends, for no doubt my quest for the ultimate knowledge will be fraught with peril and danger and monkeys at every turn. In the meantime, I have to go peel the "Made on China" stickers off a bunch of skulls, so farewell!