On Cars.

This link right here was shameslessly gacked from cybele_san, but I knew that some of you you absolutely HAD to go there. Make sure your speakers are ON. (Hint: The Voice of God)

Other than that, not much is really happening. Fell asleep at my desk while reading Kripke, though stayed awake long enough to disagree on some points. Ha.

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So. If you thought that I was kidding when I said that I was going to start the "Remus and Sirius say Bugger for Britain" campaign will now eat your...thoughts. Thanks in large part to soupytwist, there will banners at the Brighton Summit. Oh, yes. There will even be chanting. Bwahahahahaaa...

By the way, as a general Goodwill Announcement - Tori Amos is perfect when reading smut. Trust me.

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So, when I went shopping today, I bought cheese, because I had almost finished with my previously bought block. And now it is wrapped in foil away from prying hands. Let's hope it stays there. *glares at the thief, whoever he or she may be*

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And now I will write an ode to something that I have parted with a long time ago, but still keep getting reminded of it and sigh with longing each time.

My car. My dearest Dodge Shadow, one of the crappiest cars ever invented, however enduring. It was ten years old when it died, which is very respectable for a car, actually. It was blue. It had two different-toned doors because someone had smashed into my mom while pulling out of a parking spot, and the car was pronounced totalled. (Another dumbass driver.) However, my dad scrounged around junk yards and found two doors that fit. It had Mardi Gras beads hanging on the mirror. It had a Rock'n'Roll Hall of Fame sticker on the bumper, along with numerous others. In short, it had character. And, dammit, it was mine. It endured an entire summer of going back and forth to my work office an hour away from my town, then a seven hour drive to Long Island, and various trips from there to NY. It endured a lot. And it finally gave up. When it was supposed to make that seven hour trip back, it mutinied. And it just...didn't start. I believe it died in its sleep. And I shall forever cherish its memory.

My friends used to make fun of me for adoring it so much, but then they fessed up that they loved it, too. So. My car RULED. And yes, it did have a name. It was named Dodzhik.

Ah. I miss driving. There is nothing more freeing than speeding down the highway, listening to loud music, just you, your car, and no one else. Ahhhh...

And yes, I did cry when the Big Bad Truck towed it away. I looked over at my dad, and realized that he was misty-eyed, too. We'd had it for eight years, after all.

We spent the rest of our trip to New York talking about its various mishaps and adventures.

< /randomness >

And I am now attempting to edit the style of the journal, and am getting so damn confused, it's not even funny. Gah. *whimpers* Help?..

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And I have just been informed that akela has "At Swim, Two Boys".

Dude. Come back and squeal with us. You'll need to.

QUESTION: If the significant other says that he'll meet you on AIM at ten and doesn't, does that mean he's stood you up?

Night, everyone!