I officially have a FAVORITE.
It's not just the Middlemobile. It's the Big Bad Voodoo Caddy.
I can't EVEN. You GUYS. It's the BIG BAD VOODOO CADDY.*
Do not tell me there is anything better in the whole universe. I will not believe you, for you will be WRONG.
Nope. Don't even bother. You're mistaken, and that is not any better. Not even if a cross-dressing post-punk vampire-loving recovering comics geek says it'll save our lives. Not even if Patrick Stump sings it while wearing a sombrero, snakeskin pants, and a smile. And yes, you're right, we all love that hunky Canadian goofball, and it's great that his seekrit ghey sex tape surfaced on Teh Intarwebs. But that's still not better than the ten seconds that I spent rereading BIG. BAD. VOODOO CADDY. and trying to decide if I had finally gone off my rocker.
(No. I will not explain why I find it so hugely fantastic and yet creepily amusing. Just trust me. Did I lie about the gayer-than-CR boxing thing? Or the pirate hats? Or the space ninjas? Was I mistaken when I promised that the cat-controlled robot spies and William Shatner impression made perfect sense in context? Did I err when I forced you all to listen to both Josh Ritter and The Diodes?
That's right. Sometimes you just have to believe me that something is awesome.)
* For this, I almost forgive the ending of the third arc. Almost.
[eta: Fic recs! Three, MM/WW, available in the previous post. sisterofdream, I'm still working on the Middlelets Fest idea.]
I can't EVEN. You GUYS. It's the BIG BAD VOODOO CADDY.*
Do not tell me there is anything better in the whole universe. I will not believe you, for you will be WRONG.
Nope. Don't even bother. You're mistaken, and that is not any better. Not even if a cross-dressing post-punk vampire-loving recovering comics geek says it'll save our lives. Not even if Patrick Stump sings it while wearing a sombrero, snakeskin pants, and a smile. And yes, you're right, we all love that hunky Canadian goofball, and it's great that his seekrit ghey sex tape surfaced on Teh Intarwebs. But that's still not better than the ten seconds that I spent rereading BIG. BAD. VOODOO CADDY. and trying to decide if I had finally gone off my rocker.
(No. I will not explain why I find it so hugely fantastic and yet creepily amusing. Just trust me. Did I lie about the gayer-than-CR boxing thing? Or the pirate hats? Or the space ninjas? Was I mistaken when I promised that the cat-controlled robot spies and William Shatner impression made perfect sense in context? Did I err when I forced you all to listen to both Josh Ritter and The Diodes?
That's right. Sometimes you just have to believe me that something is awesome.)
* For this, I almost forgive the ending of the third arc. Almost.
[eta: Fic recs! Three, MM/WW, available in the previous post. sisterofdream, I'm still working on the Middlelets Fest idea.]