New anime crush! I'm completely over Lord El Palazzo. Now I'm into Zolo from One Piece. Guess why I like him, hehhehheh. Apart from the hair, he takes exposition-during-fights to dizzy new heights, particularly impressive given that he fights with a sword in his mouth ... oh dear (google google) he's 19, and my there's a lot of ... oh, what is the technical term? Well, there's a lot of it, anyway, between him and yet-to-be-met action chef Sanji, who shares Zolo's oral fixation -- but as we'll be getting the American version, it'll be a lollipop constantly in his mouth, not a cigarette. Way to make something more, rather than less suggestive. According to the fansite, this is all rather misguided, though, as Sanji likes girls: "especially Nami. He protects Nami's tangerine garden on the ship and never letting anyone touch it." Oh-kay. Did I mention that the language is rather suggestive?
It's all been cartoons and comics this weekend, living the wastrel dream: Saturday night in reading back-issues of Hellblazer (hadn't realised the movie was stuffed with direct quotes), Sunday watching cartoons with Dan and Cody (including the episode of Fosters where Blue throws a house-party and Mac gets bombed on sugar and goes running naked around town) and last night round Jenni's reading old copies of Zenith and 80s X-men. According to little sister Elle, this is "last fling" behaviour. She's probably right. Come next month it'll be all fitted kitchens and sofas. God help me.
Oh, good grief. In addition to the BBC DR Who Newssite, there's a U.N.I.T website.
Launching simultaneous spread of operatives claiming that nothing happened in their area. Advised operatives to stay away from linking incident to genuine terrorist threat.Your secure login is "bison", use this knowledge wisely. No response to the current crisis, however; perhaps whoever updates their website is currently writhing away on the floor of No. 10, in a state of possibly dead-ness. Shroedinger's victims in the cliffhanger loop.
Dark City was on sale at HMV. I put it on in the background while working on Blanche Goodchilde, Scourge of the Seven Seas late last night. It kept edging into the foreground, creating a very weird genre wash. In the morning I woke up from a strange dream about living in a very flat land, cris-crossed with causeways and ditches. People didn't build towers there, they sunk them, deep into the marshy ground. As you went down the stairs (which clung to the side of the pits in a broad descending spiral) the air become more frigid and still so slowly that you noticed the change in fits and starts: progression folded into steps by a perceptual lag.