From the Herald:
- The organisers of 2MBS FM's book and record bazaar (Uniting Church, Holtermann Street, Crows Nest, 9am-5pm weekends, noon-6pm weekdays) usually find us something under the category of Boring Books to hang their plug upon. This year, though, they offer The Most Alluring Titles of books on their shelves - A Short History of Sex Worship, Rats! by The Pied Piper, A New Handbook on Hanging and The Victorian Internet, which describes how Victorians used Morse code to court each other.
Now I'm wondering if there was any particular reason why Chris was always running off to the telegraph office. Hmmmm.
I've finally discovered a way how not to fall asleep before Farscape: Get home just before Farscape. Ah, back when Benny was cool (unlike the full flowering of his dorkdon with that hair in CSI). Twas Green Eyed Monster, which was fun, inspite of Farscape's disturbing love of vomit and fart gags. Aside from that, a nice little quadrangle, including the dang ship. Now that's twisted, which is why the show rocked. And oh my, didn't we get some nice tight little arse shots as JC ran about in his little Tron-like EVA suit. Oh my, yes. I'm missing that, I tell you. Apparently even poor Ben is having trouble adjusting to baggy clothes. Don't get too comfortable in civilian wear, my dear boy, please. Sigh, I miss the leather.
After that it was another vcd treat: Ariel, or the episode where Jayne falls in lurve with Simon. No, seriously. If the sight of Jayne standing open mouthed, gawping as the The Wonder That Is Simon saving lives (that aren't Jayne's) isn't enough, nor Jayne deciding to rescue Simon instead of turning him for the bounty, then how about Jayne telling Simon to shut his pretty little mouth instead of just glowering at him as usual. Things that make you go hmmm. Of course Jayne screws the whole thing up, first ensuring they're captured by the Keystone Cops, then the Creepy Guys arrive ("two by two, hands of blue") and kill off said coppers very messily, which isn't the least bit creepy or attention grabbing, for a suposedly evil secret government operation, ala The X Files.
Zoe and Mal rescue our fugitives (as if they wouldn't) and Simon fawns over big strong powerful Jayne who saved them. Yeah, right, thinks Mal. Mal doesn't take kindly to Jayne's treachery at all and teaches Jayne a few home truths while improvising a keel hauling until Jayne promises to be a good little boy from now on. As if. Mal tends to be very Scottish in his tempers. It's kinda cute.
All in all a cool episode that builds up a mythology that alas will go nowhere but for some priceless Simon/Jayne, it was well worth it J. Poor Jayne, all guilty for betraying Simon et al. He'll get over it, I'm sure.
Figured out who Jayne reminds me of, too. Just think of another boofy, trigger happy psycho. No, not Jim. I'm thinking more of Bodie. Tell me there isn't a passing resemblence - grin.
Just went off to get a cup of tea and had to walk past one techie telling another two how his new born child was trying to suckle. Ewww. Way too much information caught in passing.It's bad enough to make me scurry back to my desk in haste.
Actually it's my second cup of tea of the morning. The first involves a hilarious incident where by moonlight (I still don't know where the main light switch is and I have a desk lamp anyway) I blindly speared the top of my long life skim milk carton and this stream of milk shot up over everything. I mean everything: sprayed up the walls, all over the kettle, the table, me. Reminded me of the time we went to the flicks and friend thought the trailers would be a perfect time to apply hand cream to her gnarled claws and managed to shoot the most perfect arcing stream of hand cream across the fortunately empty seats. No need for friend to get overexcited, I remarked drolly. Okay, so you had to be there. It was v.funny at the time.
Some friends don't get or like Phone Booth. I guess you need to be a Kiefer or Colin fan, and watch it as a manual on how to get a date in NYC. I mean, holding a het guy at gun point once you've found him - pretty much what you have to do these days, like hunting an elusive mythical beast.
Oh well, back to the gulag. Later today I have to try and explain, again, the Intranet to someone who gets it as much as the Catholic Church grasped that the world was round, ie not at all, and if I keep up with my insistence on structure and content I'll be burned at the stake as a witch and/or heretic. Oh goody. I'm so looking forward to it.
No fic writing but I did find something in the paper yesterday which might get a mention, or not, about seedy politics. I'm lucky to be corresponding with a few writers at the moment who are not only charming and talented but well versed in research, hence their bold, confident entirely non bad romance novel fic which I enjoy so much. They inspire me and encourage me to read more and write more and for that I am eternally grateful. The last few years have produced generally fic of a standard so awful I've not bothered with my own stuff and have grown slack, but it's time to pull my socks up again. All I need now is some quiet time to finish reading my reference book on 1870s gamblers J.
Still pondering on whether to rty and seperate this rambling mess into fic and non fic versions, only I've tried having two notebooks before and all that got me was empty pages. We'll see. It's the expense of multiple accounts that worries me. My BA page already costs a bomb, and I'm thinking of winding it down even further as well as ditching other sites. Plus I just ramble in and out of my fic ideas. Like yesterday I read about some US president who accused his opponent of being a pig fucker, just so he could hear him deny it, and I instantly thought: Ezra! That's just the sort of wickedness he'd get up to, in my fic at least. Now to find a spot to squeeze it in.
PS. Forgot to say a big thankyou for the hidden extras on my Buffy VCD. As always, very gleefully appreciated.
From the Herald:
Geoff Cohen, of Thirlmere, browsing through the NSW Government tenders in This Paper on Monday, saw that tenders were called for Servicing of on-site sewerage management systems in Wollondilly Shire. Site inquiries could be made to, ah, Mr Paddle. He would, of course, be the Paddle one would never want to be without when exploring these sewerage systems.