'We will fix it, we will mend it'

RIP Oliver Postgate. Gone to the great junk shop in the sky.

It was my fervent wish as a child to have small clockwork mice who had a chocolate biscuit making machine. I didn't care that it was the same biscuit going round and round. 

*makes sad little Clanger noise in mourning*

Am I bad?

Just watching 'Last Man Standing' and...

Is it bad that I want to read slash stories about these guys? It is, isn't it?

But what do they expect my mind to do when they're showing these guys in their pants?! Their tiny, tiny, tiny pants!?!!

(and that's everyone except Joey because frankly, I want that whiny little bitch to go down and the only fic I want to read with him in it is the most vicious sort of whump imaginable. All hurt and no comfort.)

I'm thinking Wole/JJ or Jarvis/Ed. (Mmmm... Jarvis 'n Ed...)

* * *

I've been writing stuff and then re-reading it and thinking 'WTF's this shit?!' and I don't know if that's because it's actually shit or because I've been in a really odd mood for about a week. Black dog following me - 'cept it's more like a mange-ridden, scruffy grey mongrel.

* * *

Maudlin poetry time again as well I'm afraid.

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