Monday, February 20, 2006

DNA, my eye. Everyone knows they turned into deer.

I was laid up in the Land of Counterpane this weekend. Whose borders are the stinking River Chamomile to the west and the Mountains of Discarded Tissue due south of my feet.

These are the best of times for anyone around me. It takes a reserve of energy to maintain the high levels of shrewishness for which I'm famed, and the common cold leaves me mild and manageable. Throw me in front of a PBS special on the wives of Henry the Eighth and your evening is free and clear for any and all XBox activities. Stopper my mouth with a chocolate heart and you may be able to make it out the door for Burger King before I can mumble a protest.

Of course, when recovery comes, it is swift and violent. Halfway into Sleeping Beauty I was croaking my opinions on the pink/blue debate and its effects on the Princesses Collection. At the end of "Digging for the Truth: The Roanoke Colony", I was lobbing "fuck you"s at the tv like any pro. By the time BSG starts in thirteen minutes, I should be back to Full Steam Harpy.

1 comment:

Johnny said...

And here I was all set to be concerned. Actually, odlly enough, I know what you mean. About the energy.