(no subject)
Okay, I think it's safe to say my baking has gone compulsive. Watching Masque of the Red Death last night, mixing pastry, I've produced about ten little pies and three massive ones. Who's going to eat them? I'll take them all to work tomorrow. They're genuinely nice, but nervous tics shouldn't include rolling shortcrust at half two in the morning.
EDIT: Make that two massive pies. Definitely burnt that last one.
While I thought the Runaway Bride was "all right, kind of shaggily written", it's obviously been given more considerate thought by Cryptile.
Meanwhile, parallel universe me clearly has some taste in tarot after all, because this strange White Silk Tarot my subconscious makes has clearly based an image of me dancing with a curling green ribbon on the Thoth deck.
