I don’t think I did anything about house today besides make tea and a salad and take my pills and a nice long nap. (I’m allowed to be tired when I’m tired, I’ve got Daim Branage. I worked on about half a dozen destiel fics, tidying mostly, getting names consistent, that kind of editable stuff. 9 words on one fic 318 on another, that kind of thing.
THEN around 6 the THUNDER started … for about an hour, every ten minutes or so there was the longest, most histrionical, excessive, over-the-top, can’t-stop-won’t-stop thunderclap you could imagine. Long pause and then explosion noise-overlaid with a helicopter landing on the house noise – overlaid with brO’s apparently epic fart from yesterday – and then cannonades in the distance fading to a repetitive coda. Jeff and I were impressed as hell.
Watched Cry Macho, had no expectations of it being great, and enjoyed it because to my mind it was entertaining. Some of Eastwood’s reaction shots will live as memes long after he’s dead, I predict.
