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I appear to be under siege by gay terrorists. Every few minutes there's a profusion of pink and orange explosions just outside the window. I suppose they're quite pretty in their own way, but I'd much prefer blue.
Just in case you were wondering (I don't imagine that you were), I have absolutely nothing to say, but as usual I don't seem to have posted in forever, so I thought I should, in case I forget how. Life is much the same as always (if greyer and more wet). I am being stared at by a cat, which presumably means I'm supposed to be doing something that I'm not. I have Dean Martin playing in the background, which means I'm apt to get distracted and forget what I actually am doing. And the roof may be about to be blown off by over-enthusiastic neighbours. If they're going to explodify me, they could at least do it actually on Fireworks Night. Being blown up two days early seems like cheating.
Elsewhere, I appear to be stuck in the 1980s. I don't know why, but I don't seem to have left since I had that Remington Steele rewatch earlier in the year. Currently I'm rewatching Simon & Simon, a show so gloriously 1980s that it practically has a parade of eights tattooed across it. Sorry, that was a very weird metaphor. It's a fab series, though. It really is. I love it to bits. It ran from 1981-1989, (just to prove that occasionally I do manage to fall in love with successful things), which is effectively an entire decade. I know - I'm impressed too. Usually things that I like last for thirteen episodes, then crash and burn and are never seen again. Mind you, that was thirty years ago. Despite great popularity at the time, I now inevitably find myself in a fandom of one, yet again, and grumbling about the lack of extant fans. Come on, world! Discover Simon & Simon! It's utterly wonderful in every way. And look look look! Theme music. Just try to listen to this and not fall in love:
( Cutty thing )
Just in case you were wondering (I don't imagine that you were), I have absolutely nothing to say, but as usual I don't seem to have posted in forever, so I thought I should, in case I forget how. Life is much the same as always (if greyer and more wet). I am being stared at by a cat, which presumably means I'm supposed to be doing something that I'm not. I have Dean Martin playing in the background, which means I'm apt to get distracted and forget what I actually am doing. And the roof may be about to be blown off by over-enthusiastic neighbours. If they're going to explodify me, they could at least do it actually on Fireworks Night. Being blown up two days early seems like cheating.
Elsewhere, I appear to be stuck in the 1980s. I don't know why, but I don't seem to have left since I had that Remington Steele rewatch earlier in the year. Currently I'm rewatching Simon & Simon, a show so gloriously 1980s that it practically has a parade of eights tattooed across it. Sorry, that was a very weird metaphor. It's a fab series, though. It really is. I love it to bits. It ran from 1981-1989, (just to prove that occasionally I do manage to fall in love with successful things), which is effectively an entire decade. I know - I'm impressed too. Usually things that I like last for thirteen episodes, then crash and burn and are never seen again. Mind you, that was thirty years ago. Despite great popularity at the time, I now inevitably find myself in a fandom of one, yet again, and grumbling about the lack of extant fans. Come on, world! Discover Simon & Simon! It's utterly wonderful in every way. And look look look! Theme music. Just try to listen to this and not fall in love:
( Cutty thing )
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