Pain, and painkillers

You know when Spock mind melds with the Horta and throws his head back and says P A I N!.  Yesh, that would be me now that NCIS has stopped. Fortunately the kids came by and made me feel better. Besides, I can go someplace and buy more if I really want to.  Only three more seasons after this one.  But perhaps before I do that I should do a long long rant on everything that is WRONG with the show and why it is such a guilty pleasure.  Then there are pics like this….. So much wrong.  So, so much wrong.  Except of course they are still married, and I’m not, whatever my taste in evening fashions.  Just in case you don’t know, that’s Mark Harmon and Pam Dawber.

Also, we’re back into the movie swing of things with the Zero Effect.  I adore Kim Dickens from her work in Deadwood and this movie made me much less annoyed with Ben Stiller.  Bill Pullman is great.  Full marks to Keith, who recognized it as a Scandal in Bohemia ripoff within moments and then kept quiet about it – or at least that it was a Conan Doyle homage.  PS Kim Dickens has had work, her bite has changed and she had her rack done.  I don’t care, it’s not like I’m making a living from my appearance, and she does.

Nothing kills pain like a good night’s sleep.

I made a FABULOUS lentil stew yesterday.  It’s based on my original lentil stew with a lime quartered into it, but mildly different, and no fenugreek so there’s no bitter balancing the sweetness of the star anise and the cinnamon stick…  Any Jeff liked it, and I’ve promised him world class gas if he eats it once a day until it’s gone.

I am in full bore worry mode about the trip to France.  I am terrified something will happen to the plane or I’ll get artfully eviscerated by terrorist shrapnel in one of those big scary European airports.  I mean, I’m used to an airport you can dogtrot across in 15 minutes.  Objective consideration of these events as possible but not likely is not assisting my mood.

On the positive side, I have chosen about twenty possible candidates for having their lyrics rewritten for inclusion into The Opus, which I am codenaming “Beedlebaum.”  Why?  Because I CAN.  So if you got used to any of my songs having a particular set of lyrics, sorry, because I’m going to filk myself to within an inch of my hairy life.  You know how the Buffy’s mom song grew out of the song I wrote for Robof9 shortly after he started (I crushed on him for two whole weeks before he said something at the lunch table which was, alas, the little piece of eggshell in the omelette of my attraction to him)? Well it’s going to morph again, probably back into something closer than the Bacharach/David song I was aiming for the first time.  Maybe this time it will be written for a guy.  Nah, I still see it as written for a girl.  Mr. Music, a little structure please….  Either that or you have to get me over to your place with a six pack and I’ll sing my way through the little beggars while you take Copious Notes.

I suppose this is the point at which I tell my mother that I won’t be stealing the choon from the Shopping song OR The Evening news, or Words Fail.  But Crazymaking Boy is due for the high jump, methinks, mostly because I don’t have to change the lyrics at all, it’s definitely a love song as it stands.

Note to universe:  Greatly Deficient in Snuggles!  Please fix!  Immeeeediately if not sooner! Kthxbai.  And NO, Snuggles is not a code word for something else, I need a hug.  Cats are not huggy.  In fact, they are downright disdainful of me (wah, Gizmo looking adoringly up to Jeff from his lap, while I have to kidnap him to get a new facebook profile pic!).  Yes, I’m back on facebook.  Hopefully the self-censorship which got me off facebook in the first place will no longer apply.

I light a candle to a people I know who is in jail.  May he take a pause from his normal exertions and quit being so dumb.  I light a candle to all those labouring for little and all the ships at sea.