So long, and thanks for all the fish.
So long, and thanks for all the fish.
THERE IS A DECAPITATED RAT IN MY CLOSET.
I DISCOVERED IT BY VERY NEARLY STEPPING ON IT.
OH GOD, I WANT TO BLEACH THE WALLS.
(Hello, trauma! Goodbye, getting anything productive done today!)
Okay. Okay. No. Okay. I am steeling myself. I can use the telephone, I can get a DECAPITATED DISEASE-RIDDEN CARCASS AAAGH AAAAGH--! No. Wait. Okay. Just ... just think of it as as as a nasty tomato. Okay. Right. I can do this. Removal of a nasty tomato from the closet. Right. Okay.
Four pairs of latex gloves, half a bottle of Lysol with bleach, one very hot shower, and a distinctly immortal-soul-tarnishing number of blasphemes later, ETA: OH MY GOD IT WAS BLOATED AND LEAKING GREEN, GREEN, GREEN ... FLUID!!! IT COULD NOT HAVE POSSIBLY BEEN THERE LONG ENOUGH TO DO THAT!! AAAAAGHSKLFKHDSKLJD!!!!
Edit the second: Okay. Have moved on. Have moved bed ACROSS THE ROOM from the closet. Am zen. Well. Was zen. Tooling around, went through a random progression of thought which lead to Terry Pratchett. Synapes fired madly, and the connection was made between Terry Prachett, rats, and aforementioned imaginary tomatoes: Quattro rodenti. A Ankh-Morporkian-dwarf recipe from Nanny Ogg's Cookbook, modified for Roundworld consumption to feature TOMATOES COVERED IN ROAST BEEF COOKED ON TOP OF A PIZZA, ARRANGED TO MIMIC THE SHAPE OF RATS. This just comes POPPING INTO MY HEAD WITH A CHEERY WAVE!
*sobs* Why did I google it...? Why, why, WHY did I google it?
( ALPHABET! D:Collapse )
HOUSE GOT PICKED UP FOR A THIRD SEASON, WHOO! (Actually, I've got one foot in the camp that's kind of disappointed in season two. ( CHOPPING HERE FOR THE SAKE OF THE MINOR-SPOILER-PHOBICCollapse ) It's all pretty much the doing of the writers, though; the actors still have me going 'YAY!' all over the place, so the writing's going to have to get REALLY insane before I stop watching. ^^♪~ I'm still happy.)
He calls himself MYV Jackson. In the dance thing, and in the freaking liner notes. DUDE! I called him MYV Jackson! Ages ago! It was a running joke!
....If he at any point calls himself Elton MYV, I am starting my own religion. I will become THE OCCASIONAL PROPHET OF SELECTIVE FACETS OF CERTAIN FANDOMS. Yeah.
In other, less completely random news, we havn't been able to get an internet connection at home for a MONTH, the firewall at the Land Grant blocks everything I need to do to leave for Oregon, like yell at HP tech support to GET MY SCANNER WORKING, but it will let me download Kra PVs. (SPEAKING OF WHICH, Maiccho is a brunette!
Um. Got a letter from Evergreen re: application "Give us your transcripts, dumbass. You've got two weeks," it says, only maybe not in those words. Which is BAD. Because there's nothing I can do to expidite the ACT scores at this point, and the GED scores were sent out a week before I did my application, and the letter is dated a week ago, which means I have one week, not two, and if the letters don't get there I'm not getting in and, and and and and!!! HWEEEE. ;____; BUT. If a letter can get from Washington to here in a week, then certainly a letter can get from here to Washinton in ... rather more than a week. However long it's been. Yonks ages. So maybe they've got the GED transcripts by now and we can move on to, "PAH THESE PHOTOCOPYS ARE NOT LEGITIMATE EVEN IF THE DESK MONKEY FROM THE DEPARTMENT OF EDUCATION SIGNED THEM AND SWORE THEY'D BE FINE!" (These incredibly neurotic pre-collegiate posts will eventually stop, you know. For a given value of eventually.)
My dad is a kind and benevolent father, and brought home Doritos and Ubiquitous East Asian food which is still not saag paneer but will do very nicely for comfort food while I panic thanks very much, and we finished Neverwhere, (which, ahaha, was bad, of course, but I knew it was going to be bad, so that wasn't a disappointment. Except the marquis, who was fantabulous), so life is not as dismal as it might be, except ...
T-MINUS TWELVE DAYS UNTIL I FIND OUT THAT I CANNOT LEAVE FOR OREGON BECAUSE THEY WON'T LET ME OUT OF THE TERRITORY WITH MY CERTIFICATE OF IDENTIFICATION BECAUSE THEY NOW REQUIRE A PASSPORT AND SOME REALLY HORRIBLE PERSON AT THE PASSPORT AGENCY HAS BEEN HOLDING MY NEW PASSPORT FOR THRITEEN MONTHS.
I go avay now.
(Bertram Wooster is a pimp.)
That is all.
But the screaming and stabbing really was quite fun. :D
ETA: Ohyeahbestpart. The theatre here has two ... you know, room-things. Auditoriums. Theatres. Whatever. But they're showing three films right now, one of which is Fun with Dick and Jane (it's been here for THREE WEEKS, and causes me pain). So they've got to shove two names together on the wee little marquee outside the auditorium, and we wind up with the cinematic masterpiece DICK AND TRISTAN. Oh, yeah. Brokeback Mountain, eat your heart out.
So it looks like I might just possibly get into SOU. This is unnerving. At least I will have someplace to go when Evergreen takes one look at my application and goes "WTF MATE?" and throws it back in my face, laughing hysterically. (I am so good at being positive. :P )
Wait, no. I am throwing myself off a bridge after this song. *sways*
I JUST BOUGHT A LAPTOP.
"You pay the difference over a thousand dollars,' says my dad to me this morning, apropos of nothing. I look at him as if he has tentacles on his head. "That's the bad news," he says. "The good news is, you a thousand dollars to spend on the system of your choice."
"System?" I ask, and am, yes, most suspicious.
And, yeah, there was much flailing and giddy little squeaks and general happiness, and then I remembered about PLC being officially NOT DEAD YET HOORAY and it just got worse.
So~. I'm pleased.
I'm also soaking wet and freezing, but that's another matter entirely.
( Music meme while I am dinking around waiting for things.Collapse )
Okay. So it is time to go and cook. Poot.
Heeheehee. I've got Peeps and a microwave. Oh, the thrills I will have. :D
(My dad is slowly going through my music, picking out the things he wants. Alastar just got the chop. Now we're debating whether Antonis Remos is actually Japanese opera. Or Italian. I am apparently a member of a secret society who disguises Italian-ness from society.) (He's Greek.) (Antonis Remos, not my dad. Nothing's changed on the Norwegian front.)
EDIT: AS:LKJHGUGJHDK:!!!!!! Are they performing with Daishi? Could they be performing with Daishi? THEY WOULDN'T CALL IT PSYCHO LE C--(shit where's capital e acute....)--ÉMU WITHOUT HIM, RIGHT?! AAAALFKJGH:SRDIHJOI!!!
I've been craving Doritos the last three days. And now I want Doritos and Indian food. I had a dream about saag paneer. (Also Pretty Cunning Doncha Think hats, and Peru, and having to sneak Dumbledore out of my garage by wrapping him in a tarp.) But. Curry. With lentils. And rice. And naan. And paneeeeeeeeer. ;_;
( Four Things meme to distract myself.Collapse )
Barg. When did it get this late? I need to go home. >_<