Soft?

Now I know I’ve gone soft. I’m actually quite touched by this story, seen on the Beeb website just this evening. How fab is that? It’s not that he’s winning, it’s that he’s giving the money to charity. I don’t know if I’d do the same thing in his position. Or would I? Not like I could take it with me. But I could make damn good use of it before I cark it. Maybe.

And another thing: I’ve been informed recently that I have “a type”. This “type” precludes me from (probably) ever finding a bloke in Hongkie Town. Yeah, you’ve guessed it: blond. I mean, come on, my first ever boyfriend was blond, I grew up on Han Solo (and Indiana Jones), and I have a thing for others not-so-blond but kinda blond in a squint-cos-it’s-the-lighting kinda way (yes, Dean Winchester, I’m talking about you). So the next confession should come as no surprise - a weakness for semi-blondness and accents (and ARMS) taken into account.





Yeah, that’ll be Charles ‘Trip’ Tucker III (he’s from Florida, people!), from ‘Enterprise’. Which I only watched cos ‘Supernatural’ has finished, ‘Burn Notice’ doesn’t start season three until 4th June, and I have to find summat to get my mind of another interminable summer of work, work, and oh let’s see - yes, more work.

Yeah, you see, none of this is actually my fault - me dad made me watch the original back int day, I chose to watch Next Gen during secondary school (granted), and then went on to DS9 in a big way during college and Real Life. No surprise that I should lust after take a liking to a grease monkey with a luuuurvely Florida drawl and blondish hair in yet another incarnation of said series? (But just fert record: no, did not get off on ‘Voyager’ at all…)

At least we’ve got tickets to FINALLY see ‘Star Trek’ on Friday night. Cos it opens Thursday, you see. Can’t wait. Karl Urban fert PHWOOOOAAAAARRR! factor and Simon Pegg fert tee-hee factor? Aceness.

That shallot. Onion. Thing. Time for bed, said Zebedee.

Peach and lube, people, peach and lube…

Tags:
cancer ~ Connor Trinner ~ Trip Tucker ~ DS9 ~ Star Trek

HAPPY TOWEL DAY!

It’s 25th May! Happy towel day - hope you have your Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters and really really dark shades ready. What? You don’t have a recipe for a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster? Jeez, you guys are so unhip it’s a wonder your bums don’t fall off!

Let me furnish you with a recipe from The Guide (Stephen Fry style):

Take the juice from one bottle of that Ol’ Janx Spirit.
Pour into it one measure of water from the seas of Santraginus V.
Allow three cubes of Arcturan Mega-gin to melt into the mixture (it must be properly iced or the benzene is lost).
Allow four litres of Fallian marsh gas to bubble through it (in memory of all those happy Hikers who have died of pleasure in the Marshes of Fallia).
Over the back of a silver spoon float a measure of Qualactin Hypermint extract, redolent of all the heady odours of the dark Qualactin Zones.
Drop in the tooth of an Algolian Sun-Tiger. Watch it dissolve, spreading the fires of the Algolian suns deep into the heart of the drink.
Sprinkle Zamphour.
Add an olive.
Drink. Very carefully.

Peach and lube people - them as know where their towels are, of course…

Tags:
HHG2TG ~ Towel Day ~ Douglas Adams

The darkness and the light

I normally have quite a good time int shower. We’re not quite talking Dean Winchester levels of enjoyment, but it’s normally a highlight of my day to get in there and splash about. Unfortunately, my shower has decided to go all Evil Bathroom Facility this last week.

Imagine, if you will, that you’re enjoying a nice warm jet of soapy water. It starts to heat up and suddenly blasts the hottest shock of super-heated near-steam you’ve ever scalded yourself with. Worth a few shouts and epithets, I think. Especially as the only way to stop it is to turn off the water and start again from scratch, trying to edge it off STONE FUCKING COLD to somewhere semi-comfortable.

Is that asking too much? Well, obviously, seeing as every shower now is turning into a cross between a mad dash from side to side in a thankfully rubber-matted cubicle and a competition to shout the foulest sentences at the highest volume.

Anyway, onto lighter things. During a discussion about earthworms (don’t ask), a few students and I came up with a fantastic idea to help predict earthquakes. ‘Everyone knows that cockroaches can sense a quake about to occur’, says a student. So I say, let’s get the government to give out millions of wee high-vis jackets to the cockroach population at large. At the first whiff of a tremor, these little legends of self preservation will take to the streets, waving their hands int air and screaming like girls as they holler ‘Run away! Run away!’ And because they’re wearing their little fluorescent jackets, everyone will see them and know that a quake is imminent.

Good idea? I thought so.

That’s it for now. Got Parents’ Day int early morning. On a Sunday.

*sighs*

Soopytwist.

Tags:
cockroaches ~ earthquakes ~ showers