On the train this morning a small child was singing: "Spider filled with rabies. Rabies rabies rabies. Spider filled with rabies. Rabies rabies rabies!" It made my morning. — This brings back fond memories of the "Dead Pigeons" song my then six-year-old brother made up in Venice.
I heard about the Guatemala City Giant Sinkhole at io9.com, where the lede was "No, this image is not Photoshopped." First the volcano, then the ongoing oil-spill nightmare in the Gulf, now this — when did life turn into a Roland Emmerich film?
Also this whole thing doesn't stop me from being engaged with Spike as a character -- that's the great thing about fiction, I can like totally shit people who do totally shit things because their use in a narrative is brain stimulating on some level. — This gives me hope for all the girls who are nuts over Edward the Sparklepire.
Meanwhile on Angel, Cordy is some mother goddess demon of love who I assume will eventually sacrifice her life so that Angel can become mortal. Connor is fucked up (and where do I know that kid from) and Holtz has bad make-up and a fucked up plan. Lila is courting Wesley and none of this is going to end well. — I'm fascinated by how your predictions for the show swerve from spot-on to way off. I think overall you've had more hits than misses. I'm not sure where you would have seen Vincent K other than Angel and Mad Men, but he's striking, isn't he?
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