only capslock can express this excitement
HEY GUYS YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE THIS.
1. The premiere of Reaper was on E4 today, and I figured 'what the hey' and tuned in. (Just a thought, E4, but when you're showing the first episode of your shiny new American programme which really isn't doing very well in its own country... you might want to show a little more than two minutes before the break? I mean. Really. How is that ever a good idea?)
Anyway. It was mildly entertaining in a not particularly engaging way. And that's about it, really. I enjoyed the Beck in the opening, and death by dustbuster is a pretty entertaining concept, buuuuut it was pretty slow and nothing special and I'll maybe flip over to it when there's nothing better on one day, but that's about it.
2. I HAVE BEEN WRITING MY MOTHERFUCKIN' TEEN!CHESTER HAUNTED HIGHSCHOOL FIC. HAH. Betcha all thought I'd forgotten about that, didn't ya? Oh ho ho, no. It's been crouched in the long grass, biding its time, tail flicking hypnotically in the air as it waits for the. Perfect. Moment. To strike.
3. I fully had a sudden spark of inspiration for my hit series that will surely win me my place on the BBC. And it doesn't even contain any zombies. (Yet.) Not saying anything else, though, in case I JINX IT.
4. Today I discovered the most unattractive picture of Jared that has ever existed. Look at it.
That is a picture not even a mother could love. That is the face of Young Frankenstein. That right there is the face of that kid at school who is too unintelligent to get away with his fugly, so he turns to bullying just to make the nerds respect him, but he's not even very good at that either, and all the jocks laugh at him and beat him up, and then he goes home and writes rigidly rhyming poetry in his bedroom as he cries and perhaps has homoerotic fantasies about Lance and Chip and Randy all the other studly guys on the football team.
Sorry, Jared. I love you, but it's the truth. I think it's something about the hair. The hair and the squinty, squinty eyes.
So here's a significantly prettier pic of the boy, to ease the pain.
Aaaah, soul-cleansing.
1. The premiere of Reaper was on E4 today, and I figured 'what the hey' and tuned in. (Just a thought, E4, but when you're showing the first episode of your shiny new American programme which really isn't doing very well in its own country... you might want to show a little more than two minutes before the break? I mean. Really. How is that ever a good idea?)
Anyway. It was mildly entertaining in a not particularly engaging way. And that's about it, really. I enjoyed the Beck in the opening, and death by dustbuster is a pretty entertaining concept, buuuuut it was pretty slow and nothing special and I'll maybe flip over to it when there's nothing better on one day, but that's about it.
2. I HAVE BEEN WRITING MY MOTHERFUCKIN' TEEN!CHESTER HAUNTED HIGHSCHOOL FIC. HAH. Betcha all thought I'd forgotten about that, didn't ya? Oh ho ho, no. It's been crouched in the long grass, biding its time, tail flicking hypnotically in the air as it waits for the. Perfect. Moment. To strike.
3. I fully had a sudden spark of inspiration for my hit series that will surely win me my place on the BBC. And it doesn't even contain any zombies. (Yet.) Not saying anything else, though, in case I JINX IT.
4. Today I discovered the most unattractive picture of Jared that has ever existed. Look at it.
That is a picture not even a mother could love. That is the face of Young Frankenstein. That right there is the face of that kid at school who is too unintelligent to get away with his fugly, so he turns to bullying just to make the nerds respect him, but he's not even very good at that either, and all the jocks laugh at him and beat him up, and then he goes home and writes rigidly rhyming poetry in his bedroom as he cries and perhaps has homoerotic fantasies about Lance and Chip and Randy all the other studly guys on the football team.
Sorry, Jared. I love you, but it's the truth. I think it's something about the hair. The hair and the squinty, squinty eyes.
So here's a significantly prettier pic of the boy, to ease the pain.
Aaaah, soul-cleansing.