Sainsbury's do little hot chocolate souffles (well, they're cold when you buy them, you have to provide the hot yourself), which are quite nice. Unless you undercook them, and add then a generous handful of fresh raspberries, at which point they become something requiring time apart from the world to contemplate the wonder and miracle of life, and to make breathy "oh gosh that's nice" noises, while trying to cool off one's burned tongue.
I refer to myself as a doll "collector", but I *do* play with them (which is good for the soul). I had a weird dream last night myself, all to do with my brother finding a hanging lamp that turned out to be worth £357 million, my mother refusing to better her life with the money, and me only being given enough to buy a storage locker! And my father was still alive, and the old family house that in reality was demolished four years ago, was still standing.
I was well keen on the fellow up to 'What you make it', but then Other Stuff started happening (No tube to read books on, lack of brain for reading anyway) and Charlie Stross turned up.
The thing is that I Don't Do Horror. Early MMS was well enough into SF territory, and M(M)S... Isn't. Shame, but there we are.
I collect records and yes, I do play them.... Well, apart from the unique acetates which would degrade the second a stylus was placed upon them. Apart from that, I have incredibly rare stuff here and I listen to them all the time...
I never understand why people buy stuff if they're never going to use it ;)
I have a vast pile of records and CDs. That's because I like music (God. 'like music'. Does that sound grim or what? It's the sort of inspid thing one sees on bad CVs: 'I enjoy music, reading and cinema'. No. A lot of fine records, some thrown together for sixpence, many less costing $plenty, make me grin like a fool) rather than feel the need to own everything ever emitted by (say) Severed Heads.
I think it was mostly the idea of unplayed-with toys that made me unaccountably sad.
It's a special room provided by those_who_believe_in_Bill_and_Dave where pale and sweaty programmers are strapped to machines and told to pedal like Lance Armstrong until the Itanic racks have finished a particularly tricky calculation.
Or, more prosaically, I went mad, hardly left the house for six months, and am still burning off the sphericality.
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Well done.
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The thing is that I Don't Do Horror. Early MMS was well enough into SF territory, and M(M)S... Isn't. Shame, but there we are.
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I never understand why people buy stuff if they're never going to use it ;)
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I think it was mostly the idea of unplayed-with toys that made me unaccountably sad.
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post WHAT?
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Or, more prosaically, I went mad, hardly left the house for six months, and am still burning off the sphericality.
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