mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,
mockturtle
hellblazer06

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there is no fate that cannot be surmounted by scorn

If I were a sound engineer, I'd have recorded the panicked flight of the cockatoos overhead and into my tree (and it is tree, singluar these days) briefly as they cried and wheeled about in the middle of the night. It wasn't like their normal daytime call at all, which is bad enough. They sounded upset, frightened and in flight from something. Something dreadful. It sounded deeply unnatural and scary, and it'd be really cool as a sound file. Certainly no American would know what the sound was, if you used it in a film (hey, they're always using cockatoo and kookaburra soundtracks in stuff set in Africa, South America and on distant planets, yet). It was deeply creepy.

It woke me up in time for Six Feet Under anyway (I try to tape it but as EC9 plays it up to an hour late this is a difficult prospect). Nate was putting the smug into smug married. People like him are really annoying. They're so damn in your face smarmy smug but when, not if, but when it all goes pearshaped they want you to sympathise and be a shoulder to cry on, when after enduring months/years of their insufferable smugness, all the while with them putting you down, all you want to do is laugh in their face and delight in their pain. About time, you think, and relish in their well deserved suffering.

Well, I always do, anyways.

As for David, sheesh. What a road kill of a relationship. Some things just aren't worth it, honey. Time to take it up the back paddock, my dear.

I could never endure anyone that selfish or high maintenance again. Life's far too brutal and short as it is and my sense of self has never recovered. I'd rather eat the barrel of a gun than deal with a moody bastard like Keith, I really would. Keith used to be sweet but these last two seasons he's been arsehole extremis and I'd cut my losses, I really would.

Poor David. There's going to come a time when he can bend no more.

Replayed Now and Again (at least the vcr worked for that). Much man candy to behold. It almost makes up for WaT and the extreme Eric Close editing. Almost, but not quite. This was a better episode, with Dr Theo trying to set up Michael with Michelle from 24, only it didn't work and Dr Theo seemed not to have his heart in it (heh). In fact his surveillance of the entire plot to seduce Michael into forgetting his wife was downright creepy, as if the plot wasn't in poor taste enough. Oh, this show is seriously twisted. Must be why I like it.

Ended up catching two Roswells, but alas didn't write anything at all. I'd hoped to get my quite hour this morning, but no, it was not to be. Damn, cause I had ides for my NaA fic and my second JP3 fic. Bugger.

Pic of the day: Legolas and Aragorn. Awwwwww....

Slashy Legolas and Aragorn. If you can't see this pic go here: http://uk.geocities.com/havisham06/images/elflove.jpg

I forgot to mention yesterday that I have a problem with the cavalry charge at Helms Deep. It's my understanding that pike will beat cavalry charge every time. That's why I like it. You've got your poor peasants armed only with pointed sticks and they can bring down an upperclass twat off his expensive nag and while said nag expires upon the pikes they drag off the ponce and club him to death. Power to the people - grin.

So, technically, I can't see how all those stupid horsies didn't end up as horsey shish-kabob, as by rights, they should have (cf Waterloo). Oh, I should mention here that I hate horses. I've had very bad bad horse experiences and our loathing is mutual (they started it). In fact I regard people who like horses with the same suspicion as people who like cats. Hmph.

Oh yeah, I was going to apologise for last week's anti-American statements, but they played that Simpsons episode set in Australia again last night, so sod that. Episodes like that make me feel no insult of mine could possibly balance the scales, and nor could it.

Oh yes, in case you've detected an above average degree in tetchiness today, well, I didn't get my fic writing quiet time, I maybe got four hours sleep if I'm lucky (once woken I can rarely get to sleep again, at least not before the alarm goes off) and yesterday I felt the earth move. It didn't really move but as far as I was concerned it was like being on a boat and feeling a sudden big swell when your sea legs are only rated for piddling little ripples. At least, that's what it felt like, and I knew that a sudden loss of equilibrium plus being suddenly hungry (or rather unable to adhere to the starvation diet) plus being even less able to suffer idiots than normal (thou shalt not suffer a moron to live) all adds up to only one thing: yep, we're in the red zone. Batten down the hatches and fasten your seatbelts as we're in for a bumpy week.

I try to be good, really I do, but it's like walking around with the flu and a hangover all at once and everybody seems determined to vex me. Arrrgh. I'm grizzly enough to chew my way through a large lump of wood without people deliberately or unthinkingly pissing me off. Grrr. People like that remind of those idiots who climb into the cages of big predators then whine when the beast tears their stupid limbs off. Don't poke the hormonal chick with a stick, because I will bite, and bite hard.

I was about to moan that I'd moved on from angry to weepy and miserable, though I could maintain the rage by thinking of the little shops in those dear 19thC buildings, the last to remain in Smallmindedville, that are all to be torn down next week to build an interchhange for a railway line that's been scrapped. The insanity and injustice of it all. Even the rare ocean liner style art deco corner building must go. I shall miss it terribly. The city of heritage my big fat arse.

Happily the gods decided I was miserable enough and slapped a Krispy Kreme doughnut down on my desk. Truly. Manna from heaven. Somebody was just walking around the floor and handing them out apres some meeting. I'm still admiring it, the beauty, the promise of sweet sugary goodness, the perfect timing. Yes, I am insane, but it's the small things that matter to me. Besides, sugar makes being so universally loathed so much easier to bear. As the songs says: a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down...

Heh, just gloated in an unseemly fashion about my doughnut and made my mother cry. Life is good.

Ah, Krispy Kremes. See? Even Americans are good for something :D

Aw, crap. Are you sure I couldn't toss that complete c--t of a co-worker out the closed window and claim the devil/hormones/sugar rush made me do it? Please? Pretty please? I really hate her and she's not the one who's leaving. They never are.

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