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[froodle]

Oh, I almost forgot! Is there a secret rule somewhere that says that to be a good policeman/private detective/person who finds out stuff about people that people don't want people to know about, you have to have a drinking problem? I'm not talking about Ye Olde Detectives, obviously, but modern ones always seem to have a problem with alcohol. Jimmy

Comments

[froodle]

Yeah, but Bunk doesn't let it ruin his marriage (except nearly that one time with the pink dressing gown) and the others are Herc and Carver and nobody cares about them.

[froodle]

I've seen up to the end of season two, and oh my God, who takes care of Wee-Bays fish? I totally missed that the first time 'round, but with him in jail for ever and ever and ever, amen, and Dee not only in jail for twenty years but also dead of Stringerness, won't somebody think of the fishies?!

[miriglum]

On a complete tangent, did you know that in Victorian England (aka, back in the YORE), you were twice as likely to go stir-hopping-slashin-crazy if you were a hackney cab driver than any other proffesion. Because their brains were constantly being shaken apparently. Unless you were a woman, of course, but that hardly counts as a proffession

Thus ends my attempt at sceince.

Hogfather! Avast: you are kindness itself. I will buy you something delicious and artery-clogging when I see you next. Addy is - my name - MCR, Lady Margaret Hall, Oxford, OX2 6QA

Of course, this is probably a big internet no-no, but since this does not constitute the actual address where I live, so much as a named pigeon hole where post is slotted, dropped and occasionally crammed, I don't really care how many weirdos know it. I think hate mail might be *rather amusing*.

[froodle]

If you get tracked down, kidnapped, eaten and your skin turned into a rather smart casual jacket, I am not responsible. Unless you have anything I might consider worth stealing, then it probably was me.