Twisted Spinster

I have a migraine really have to do some housework so here are some links to some pictures of David Tennant licking things:

One lick

Two licks

So how many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?

Added: this commentary thread on the new (and apparently mercifully limited-episode) British telly series Bonekickers (which a commenter renamed “Boneknickers” and now I won’t be able to think of it as anything else) may amuse you. For those who have forgotten, there was a minor dust-up on the right side of the blogs about this series, because the first episode apparently contained the usual Christians Are Eeeville! Muslims Are Victimz nonsense. (See here for a review that mentions the specific outrage-causing scene.)

Okay, this theme is a little easier to read than oddly space white text on a gray background.

While this brief burst of creativity lasts…

I spent this past Saturday at a friend’s house, and she wanted me to see Man of the Year, a movie starring Christopher Walken Robin Williams. I’m a big slave to Mr. Walken fan of Mr. Williams so of course I assented. Here is my review in brief:

There were some amusing lines, but Williams seems mostly squashed, a bit intimidated, by the very idea of the presidency. This attitude is at least preferable to the current notion that certain people (cough certain  aggrieved “minorities” cough) are somehow entitled to the Oval Office and red phone access, and is a bit of a reminder that as a nation we still somehow take our governing bodies seriously. The day may yet come when when the country is run by an analogy to Pirates of the Caribbean if the crew of the Black Pearl had been real psychopaths instead of actors hired by Disney and if they were all at the opposite end of the spectrum in handsomeness from Johnny Depp, but we have not become a superpowered version of Zimbabwe yet. Someone please tell CNN and the BBC.

Anyway, for most of the movie, except for an underpowered paranoid subplot involving a cute blond programmer and buggy voting software, was just like how I and my friends would have reacted if one of our crew had by some fluke gotten elected PUSA. In other words, we would have tooled around town in our limos, chaffered with our new, ironically bemused secret service detail, visited with the current prez and found he was not such a bad (or as this movie had it, stiff, boring, and unimaginative) guy after all, tried to help beleaguered friends in trouble (the cute blond programmer), and so on. Oh, and Christopher Walken walked away with the show in his pocket, as usual. Christopher Walken is a kind of god.

One last thing: this film featured Jeff Goldblum as a baddie. What intrigued me about his performance is the fact that he played this bad character (an evil lawyer working for an evil software company, natch) with the exact same mannerisms he uses when he is playing a good guy in other films. This is true of every film I have seen him in. And he somehow manages to be convincing both as a baddie and a goodie using the same facial, vocal, and bodily mannerisms. I can’t recall another actor being able to bring this off. It’s a unique talent, whatever else you might think of it.

Concerned Reader Nigel, who must have just been banned from Tim Blair’s new site the way I apparently banned him from Tim’s old site (I banned so many, their cries of pain merge into a unified scream of horror in my memories… ah, good times, good times), is worried:

Hi. I was interested to read your comments above regarding moderation and convenience.

I’m just wondering if you will be publishing the personal email address of people who register – the way you did to me (with associated abuse) on Tim Blair’s blog in 2006.

If so, perhaps you should let people know of this possibility.

Since the post he left that comment on is ancient, I’ll reply here: let’s just say, Nige old buddy, that I’m keeping all possibilities open.

Sorry, folks, I’ve been PMS’ing like mad since Sunday — in other words, I’ve either been totally possessed by incandescent rage or slumping under the weight of apathetic depression, or is it depressed apathy… I’m feeling a little better, though, so my hormones must be getting themselves back under control. Still, my condition means I can’t read anything on the internet lest I break more of my good stuff (victims so far: one of my good wine glasses — I can’t have nice things — and a coffee cup that was fortunately one of a pair). So naturally I’ve been reading the internet, or as I’m thinking of calling it now, the Retardnet.

I’ll be back when the red light fades from my vision and people stop crossing the street to get away from me.

Hi kids! I went to see the fireworks in my town last night. It’s held over this lake, so it was sort of like Bilbo’s birthday party on steroids — and without a fireworks dragon, alas. Otherwise it was a great show, suitably loud. It was also extremely crowded — it took my friends and I nearly two hours to get out of the parking lot. I think it might have been extra crowded this year because a lot of the communities around here are not having July 4th weekend celebrations due to budget cuts or something. Anyway, I had a good time, though I was also reminded of 1) my age, and 2) why I don’t go to concerts anymore.

Anyway, I plan to get rid of this rather boring blog theme as soon as I can decide which of the ones I downloaded I like, so there will be that to look forward to. There is no new Doctor Who episode tonight — SciFi is taking the 4th off and is showing a Twilight Zone montage instead. Confession: I never really liked The Twilight Zone — I always found it either too depressing (so many of the characters ended up basically insane; also every episode that was set in outer space seemed to have a “leaving the Earth is hubris” theme), or too preachy (atomic bombs are bad, mmm-kay? Oh yeah, and people suck too!). Give me cheesy old Star Trek (the original series) episodes any day.

I’ve just been busy. Getting used to the new job, etc. Well, mostly that — from sloth and sleeping all day to a full time day job that starts at 7 in the morning is quite a…

Something — I forgot what I was going to say. Well, I’m tired too. More later, when I get some rest.

PS: thanks to everyone who has contributed to my donation links. I don’t get paid until next Friday, and that will only be a temp’s wages until I get officially hired, and I don’t know when that will be, so every bit helps.

The good news is: the company I started working for yesterday want to hire me on permanently as soon as my allotted time with the temp agency is up. It’s just the sort of job I like — date entry and other office stuff, casual dress, a relaxed atmosphere. Actually it’s all good news. It’s a bit further from work than the other one, but it’s not that far, and as the job hours are 7 am to 4 pm, I avoid a good deal of morning traffic. (The afternoon is another matter, but 4 pm is still better than 5 o’clock.) The only thing I have to get used to is waking up before dawn, but I’ve never been a morning person so that’s always been something I have had to put up with. Another good thing is that they really need someone at this place — they are way understaffed — unlike the previous job where I always felt like an “extra.”

Thanks to everyone who has contributed to my Paypal and Amazon tipjar in the past couple of weeks! In the next few weeks I hope to get back on track, but the end of the month and rent looms…

Okay, this is fucking weird. A parallel world me?

It’s from here. (PS: the primitive Microsoft Paint job was done by this-world me.)

I don’t know what I love more about That Time O’ the Month — is it the vicious cramps, the hormone-induced headaches and depression, or the feverish, sweaty feeling that makes me want to take a bath every hour? It’s so hard to choose! And if I’m lucky, I get to go through this for as much as ten more years, or maybe even more than that! Yep, I just love being a woman. Who needs upper body strength anyway?