slowly blown to bits by .357 hollowpoint badgers
Aargh. You were right, dicedcaret, I hadn't actually watched the last episode of this season of Castle. I watched it last night, to fill the void left by having finished Dragon Age II, a rant on which subject is forthcoming, watch this space. In the Castle department, woe, and angst, and trauma, and tragedy, and yet again, cruel fate intervening in indefinitely-delayed declarations of love. Am currently contemplating how to use the debris on my desk (four defunct rechargeable AAA batteries, small aquamarine plastic mirror with obscure branding, gorgeous purple knitted owl gloves courtesy first_fallen, tub of vanilla body butter, ceramic cat with flower pattern, pile of parental wedding photos) to construct time machine for sooner consumption of the first episode of the next season, because aargh, and I really need to see how they write themselves out of this one. Also, if you're not watching Castle, get onto it. It's cute and fluffy and funny and Nathan Fillion is adorable, and then every now and then it blindsides you with an emotional blow to the solar plexus, and other mixed metaphors. Solar plexus is a really odd term, have you ever noticed? It looks like something in an alien language.
In the Department of High-Class Loonery, Scalzi is particularly vintage recently. My subject line is nicked from the comments, because the concept of a .357 hollowpoint badger made me snort Earl Grey out my nose, and also wolverine_nun will angst about not recognising it, which is fast becoming the happiest side-effect of my love affair with obscure quotes in subject lines. Insert evil "mwa ha ha ha" here.
Random Friday is apparently random. I've done not much for the last two weeks, except to observe my hobbling gradually erode into actual walking with limping when tired, and to construct newer and more interesting ways to be able to sit at a desk for any length of time without my feet swelling up. (Current solution: footstool + 2 cushions + Hobbit + interesting contorted sideways position which is giving me backache, see below). Still tire very easily, but I'll be back at work on Monday, probably for a reduced day with some time working from home, just so that I don't end up as a melted puddle of thing under my desk by the end of the day. Hobbit, of course, feels me being at home for two weeks and largely immobile is merely the universe finally catching up with the Correct State Of Things For Cats.
In the Department of High-Class Loonery, Scalzi is particularly vintage recently. My subject line is nicked from the comments, because the concept of a .357 hollowpoint badger made me snort Earl Grey out my nose, and also wolverine_nun will angst about not recognising it, which is fast becoming the happiest side-effect of my love affair with obscure quotes in subject lines. Insert evil "mwa ha ha ha" here.
Random Friday is apparently random. I've done not much for the last two weeks, except to observe my hobbling gradually erode into actual walking with limping when tired, and to construct newer and more interesting ways to be able to sit at a desk for any length of time without my feet swelling up. (Current solution: footstool + 2 cushions + Hobbit + interesting contorted sideways position which is giving me backache, see below). Still tire very easily, but I'll be back at work on Monday, probably for a reduced day with some time working from home, just so that I don't end up as a melted puddle of thing under my desk by the end of the day. Hobbit, of course, feels me being at home for two weeks and largely immobile is merely the universe finally catching up with the Correct State Of Things For Cats.