February 21st, 2007

Carravaggio

stop it or you'll go blind

This made me LOL on the bus last night:
"Fifteen years ago, offender profiling had been the job of a police artist, and even today in certain parts of Yorkshire it was an art practised by consenting officers in private."
- Reginald Hill 1998, On Beulah Height.

Note yak-free quotation, and Amazon is trying to pimp Supernatural at me. Away with you, you unseemly yak botherers. Apparently, I draw the line at yaks. Which is good to know, I suppose. And yes, I know this reply to an off-piste conversation will make no sense to innocent bystanders, but trust me, you're happier and healthier that way (btw, "let slip the yaks of psychosis"? - *dies*).

Honestly, it's enough to make one one want to retaliate with AvP in SF, but see how I don't, because I know it would be wrong. Cool, but wrong. Very wrong. Oh, now, look what they've done. Especially as the P word has cropped up more times than is seemly this week. Okay, so a lot of that was a result of all that wilful googling of wee Sam on my part, but still. Please, do not let (what's left of) my brain go there. Whoops, too late.

This is what happens when I'm completely and utterly fried, so fried I thought the wonky terrarium air-cond (or complete lack thereof) was just me. Chronic sleep deprivation does strange things to this girl. Collapse )