All this Supernatural-watching is making me desperately want to reread the Demon's Lexicon books: like SPN, but in England, with fewer dudebros and dead women! Also, I am entertaining myself by imagining that on the weekends Alan Ryves, Dean Winchester, and Thor get together to commiserate about the towns their little brothers razed this week and to swap coping tips. Yep.
It was probably a terrible plan to watch Mystery Spot just before going to sleep. My dreams have been thankfully light on the creepy corpsey things (though there was a brief disturbing turn with rescuing a baby Voldemort during an exciting chase through the canals of Venice) but most of last night's dreams just repeated. themselves. over. and. over. VERY FUNNY, TRICKSTER GODS. (This is what I get for writing so much about Loki.) It also may have been a terrible plan to watch Mystery Spot generally, because I was already sold on Dean's codependence re: Sam, but I hadn't been sold on Sam's codependence re: Dean, and now I am just a wobbly mess of FEELINGS. My Supernatural-watching plans did not actually include this much faceclutching and emotional investment.
I like that season three has ACTUAL COLORS, though. And that Hollywood Babylon had meta on how horror films are supposed to be dark, you guys. But I'm with the studio exec that wanted jewel tones and saturation.
And now I will go interact with actual humans, who will expect discourse on subjects other than the ridic show I'm mainlining.
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