Chasing chimeras

So I just found the wiki page for Tablero (which is the seriously awesome drinking game we love to play at medieval things) and down the bottom it has a note that says: Tablado (appropriately pronounced 'Tah-blotto') is a form of Tablero in which hard alcohol is used. This form of the game is not recommended because pulling a line could cause the player to drink a minimum of 3 shots of alcohol in a very short time span. The chances of a player suffering alcohol poisoning as a result of this are extremely high, with a significant risk of death. ... does this mean we should stop playing tablero with tequila and vodka? (It's best with spiced wine anyway, especially since we've always got lots of that.)

On a slightly less alcoholic note: On the 23rd of May I'm going to Melbourne! Just for a few days but it is going to be DOUBLE MUMMIES ACROSS THE SKY! Because it's going to be my mummy and me in a hotel and having fun times and general loveliness and King Tut's mummy as we're going to this and can I even begin to tell you how excited I am about that? No, I can't. Because, holy shit, Egypt. Egypt Egypt Egypt. Expect tears of excitement and love. (My poor mother is going to have to deal with me while this is happening: spare a thought for the poor woman.)

"Errol Flynn was born in Launceston and was well known for his 13 inch penis. The Hollywood ladies liked him! How's that for trivia?"

...

My mum sends me the most random emails...

As a sidenote, does anyone else get their comments sent to gmail? And if so, is gmail letting you reply to them or is it coming up with an error message? *frowns*

Lost rocks, btw. Just realised I'd never mentioned my new found love for this show. We're on... *thinks* episode 4 tonight? I think so. (Although, I've possibly been cheating and have read up to 17 on TWoP).

The saddest part? I'm going to want to madly make Lost icons once in the house but all the cool ideas have already been done a thousand times. Ah well.

(threedaystilwemovein!)

Also, bwa ha! Sawyer was in Angel! *does the dance of shmooshy fandoms*

Karl Urban is Hot.

Karl Urban in leather is Hot.

Karl Urban speaking in another language is really Hot.

Karl Urban with a gun is really really Hot.

Add all these things together and it equals Dead Circe.

So why was my mother shocked that I was hyperventilating everytime he was on screen in the Bourne Supremancy tonight?

Me: OMG! You killed Karl Urban! You suck, Matt Damon!
Mum: He was the bad guy.
Me: He was the Karl Urban!

My entire reflection on this movie boils down to two things:

one: The whole movie filmed with hand held cameras, while not Blair Witch-y, was still annoying.
two: Karl Urban.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I must make Karl icons. *goes to find pics*

So I didn't end up seeing Spiderman 2 last night. I instead spent the evening with Migraine From Hell. He's lovely. Sends his regards to all who weren't there. So my family all went and saw it without me. (Mum's comment when I asked this morning being 'I liked the first one better')

Sigh. This means I'll have to go see it sometime during the week. I also have the see Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind cause that just opened at well. Ah, movies.

Me: No problem. I'll just go see it later.
Mum: I don't want to see Spiderman again.
Me: And If I'd said 'we' this would be a problem.
Mum: You're going to go by yourself?
Me: ... Yes, mum. I believe, at 19, I am capable of going to the movies.
Mum: *abject horror* You can't watch a movie by yourself. You have to go with friends!
Me: Why? When did this law come in?
Mum: It's always been the way it's done. You'll look like a big loser!
Me: ... Thanks, mum.

So, yes, it's nice to see that our mother/daughter standards are in no way messed up. Except for the part where they are.

Mum: Go! Frolic! Take drugs as long as I don't see you! Drink copious amounts of alcohol! Oooh, look at that cute boy over there with the motorcycle and the many piercings! Why don't you go flirt with him a little?
Me: ...
Mum: I'm not asking you to marry him. Just flash some boob.
Me: !!!
Mum: You're no fun at all. Let's go watch porn.

Dear mum, if you ever read this, (Which you don't) your part may have been a little edited in this conversation, but you know perfectly well that it wasn't by very much, missy.

I'm going to make icons now. For what? Who knows. I just know that I haven't made any for at least a day and I think that might be damaging or something.

Why don't I have any music playing?

Ahh, fixed.

Today I'm either going to dye my hair or grab the pair off scissors sitting in my eyesight and cut it all off. Or I'll probably just shove it off my face and pretend it's not there. Pout. All I want is pretty hair and 6 million other things is that too much to ask?

You know, it's just wrong when a song is almost too long to fit in that little box *shakes head* It’s eleven am, I’m going to have breakfast (hee! I just wrote ‘Elven am’ which amuses me a lot. Also, my spell checker was no help there.)

Atten goma_ness & phfa!

I am still awake! *laughs manically*

mum: Please don't honestly tell me you're seeing how long you can stay awake for.
me: *shifty*
mum: ... You'll make yourself sick.
me: will not! I'm not even at the paranoia stage! *shrieks and jumps up on sofa* Did you hear that???
mum: ... that was the cat. in the hallway
me: waaa.

Never the less, I'm still awake and this is the point!