mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,

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thanks for the mammaries

Thursday: Mum dropped by at lunch with an emergency Starbucks mocha latte after I rang her and told her I'd be home after dark again. I guess she took pity on me, plus the fact that I'm the only one in here means yeah, my flu is really miserable, afterall (this is what I get for dragging myy sorry self into work, doing it all by myself). Arrgh, family. Just when I'm ready to dig that shallow grave they do something nice.

Forgot to mention in last night's Buffy, at least Willow and Tara were sweet, though we saw how long that lasts. In the Buffyverse, the good are punished and the whiny never shut up. Also forgot to mention the Aussie in Monday's ep: Angie Hart, late of Frente. Is there no show on US tv that is Aussie free? Can't think of one offhand. Heh.

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  • I don't like walking home in the dark. Aside from running the risk of falling down rabbit holes and ditches (I've been completely nightblind since I was 13, as much as people refuse to believe it until I fall down a hole and then they say I only did that for effect then I fall down again and they still say I'm putting it on but it doesn't matter because it's not like I'm sleeping with that cretin any more) but rather the car people who are taking no prisoners, none at all, and they want you to know it. They're in such a hurry they don't even beep or slow down or give me chance, some of them even aim for me. Some of them think it's real cute to whiz past me with millimetres to spare, doing three times the speed limit. It's not cute. I'm almost always dressed like Tara which means big lacy skirts that hook up on branches, chairs and shelves and I'm terrified one of these lunatics will hook me and I only need to be dragged for three seconds or so at that speed to be not even useful for spare parts. It's mean and cruel and they terrify me and I shouldn't have to nearly die a dozen times a night when I'm just walking home on public footpaths and trying to cross roads, using marked crossings, just to make a difference between my fat clothes and my really fat clothes. Of course, car people are just mean and selfish, it's been proven in studies. I hate them.

    Home in time to catch Colin on E! again - he only swore twice, fer fuck's sake, the boy must be poorly (and yes, in Irish and Australian fuck is a verb, noun, adjective...) and then the Simpsons, the episode about Troy McClure which reminded me a lot of some of my fading actors(heh), featured a drive in which had us reminiscing about the old drive-in that used to sit perched on the next hill. I used to sit out on the back steps and watch it with my dog in the early 80s. Terminator, Bladerunner, Indy, they were all watched, many times, as silent movies. Then we remembered during the 70s when risque movies were all the rage (what Americans would call soft core porn although as they faint over what we have on tv, maybe they'd just call it porn) and we'd be only little kiddies in cute pyjamas and Dad would take us out to look at skylab or the space shuttle or something and we'd have to try and ignore the enormous pair of boobs that'd be filling the large screen over our back fence.

    We suddenly fall about screaming with laughter imagining what family dinners must have been like for our school friends whose house backed directly onto the drive-in - we'd never thought to ask at the time. No wonder we're so broadminded, we'd pretty much seen it all before the age of ten. Funny how Dad reckoned you could never see the stars properly til late at night, coincidentally when the naked boobies came out on the screen. We're rolling around with the memories (or should that be mammaries) and surviving Aged Parent mutters that she'd been a slacker parent than she thought, entirely unaware of this entire slice of our childhood. Ah, it cracks me up still, all those memories, all those bad movies we watched for free (hey, it was the 70s and 80s, I didn't need dialogue - for the 80s especially). I miss that drive-in. It's all flats now. Sigh.

    Just watched Charmed (spot the Aussie: Julian McMahon). It wasn't a bad episode, though they'd dressed my beloved Rose in something truly putrid so I did spend most of the episode in some state of distress. The best line however went to Phoebe, who bitched "but of course she's a blonde." Right on, my brunette sisters. Blondes are evil, always are.

  • Mini-Mes fail to see blood on Iraq's walls
  • Doctor Who fans to descend on Sydney



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