Word of the day: Bored.

Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. I so need to mug something, anything.

On the brighter side of things, I have bought the latest Cradle of Filth DVD, Peace Through Superior Firepower. Personally, I really enjoy watching it, unlike Disasterpieces where Corey will always have the same lines to say and it can get abit boring and draggy. Whereas, Dani is a much more interesting and unpredictable subject. The setlist for this DVD is a good mix of songs, with new and really old and classical songs like A Gothic Romance/ 13 Autumns and a Widow/ The Black Godness Rises and also never before played live songs like Mannequin/ Promise of Fever. With all that, a powerful performance is delivered deftly like canons from a panzer. (like the DVD title says Firepower. :)) And I really like the part when Dani narrated some nonsensical ableit interesting and wanton-like verses, going something like this: 'It takes one man to masturbate under the lonely stars... (then i forgot)' before Tortured Soul Asylum blared out.

In all, Hail Cradle of Filth! And Dani too.

So here's my filthy collection, I know it's quite little, but I'm gonna expand it really soon when my ang pows arrive at my pockets.



It's abit dark, pardon me.

Something on my daily life now, I'm a mod once again at SMC forums. So don;t mess with me! Muahaha! Kidding.

And I can't wait to get Stormblast 2005 of Dimmu Borgir's.

Alright, i think i'd better head to Rei's abode now.

See ya! \m/

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Choosy moms choose Jif. And the British Museum.

All hail the witty, talented, and smokin' hot Redlaw!

Across the ocean she brought me the object of my desire, even the Jar of Jif. It's absolutely beautiful. I have already eaten a peanut butter & banana sandwich with it and nearly swooned with the joy of the thing. (Secret confession: I was too cheap to buy Jif back home--I bought Western Family. But hey, if I'm going the contraband route then it might as well be the good stuff. There's no sense smuggling crubbish.)

WR and I took a way-before-the-crack-of-dawn train into London on Saturday. This ended up being more of an adventure than we'd planned, since we sort of didn't get much sleep the night before, on account of we stayed up waaaaaay too late talking an' stuff.

(Side note: I used to be the Curfew Enforcer for my dating friends/savvymom. And I was great at it, I think. Sure, maybe Savvymom and Amyjane hated me and kept voodoo dolls of me in their bedrooms, but that was my job. So I did it. And they both got married in the temple. So there you go. Now I find myself in desperate need of a Curfew Enforcer, only there is no one I can turn to. I sure can't ask my Self-Discipline or my Better Judgement to step up, because it turns out they're off on a cruise together somewhere, drinking pina coladas on the deck.)

In short, I may or may not include pictures of the outing. We both looked pretty hammered. Redlaw (who is everything delightful and sassy) was kind enough not to ask if the train actually ran the both of us down before picking us up.

The other thing you should know about Saturday was that it was freezing cold and windy. We made it to the British Museum, where I stared all open-mouthed at the new covered courtyard. (Note: I did not take this pic, but stole it from the Internet. But really, what are they going to do about it?)

The Museum and shops were mercifully open before the exhibits opened at 10am, so we killed some time in the gift shop. WR found a Latin book that tells you how to say useful 21st-century things like "Your mom is fat cow," which caused him no end of delight.

Once the exhibits were open we checked out the Egyptian stuff and the Elgin marbles, which I'd never seen before because I am lame. I felt slightly better when I could explain what the Rosetta Stone was. Then we hit the newly renovated Reading Room so that I could look at the books and so WR could put his head down at a desk and fall asleep.

It was so cool in there that I had to take a picture. The dome is bigger than the one at St. Paul's!

We had just enough time after the museum to walk across the Thames to see the view of the Houses of Parliament (my favorite view) before heading up to Trafalgar Square to meet Redlaw and her two friends. I only almost walked up to 3 different redheads before I recognized her from the picture she'd sent me. And yes, she's just as funny and cool in real life as she is in her blog. We all escaped the bitter bitter cold together and had lunch/dinner in a pub. I of course can't speak for her, but I had a great time. I particularly liked the part when Redlaw's two friends asked how she and I knew each other if we were just now meeting for the first time. Hee hee. It's kind of like having to explain to people that you met your bf online.

So yes, it was a good day. I got to visit my favorite city and spend all day with WR, and I got to meet someone I admire to pieces, and I got American peanut butter. Could a day really get any better?

Here's that pic from the pub, then. And don't start with the pink comments--it's the only sweater I have. Also, check out the cute dimples on WR!

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I'm British. We only show affection to dogs and horses.

Conversation that happened the other night at my house, just after Lady J's cat ran away in terror from WR, on account of she is scared of the menfolk.

Me: Sorry the cat's is scared of you.

WR: Enh, it doesn't bother me. (whispers) I'm actually allergic to cats!

Me: Oh, that's too bad. Like severely allergic?

WR: No, I just sneeze and stuff.

Me: Well, that's okay, because I'm not a huge cat fan anyw--Wait. What about dogs?

WR: Huh?

Me: Are you allergic to dogs?

WR: I dunno, does it matter?

Me: Answer the question!

WR: Well, I probably am if I'm allergic to cats, right? Doesn't it work that way?

Me: No. No, it doesn't work that way. You can be allergic to cats and not dogs. My sister is allergic to cats and not dogs. So I bet you're fine.

WR: Um . . . I'm getting the feeling here that you really like dogs.

Me: Of course I do, everyone does! Don't you?

(That's when he got quiet and started looking around the room, as if for something to distract me.)

Me: Don't you?

See, here's the thing. In my book there are two kinds of people:
1) Those who like dogs
2) Those who kill puppies and are without love or natural affections

Me: Oh my gosh you hate dogs!!!

WR: I don't hate dogs!

Me: But would you ever own a dog?

WR: (proceeds to make grimaces that involves his entire face and torso)

WR: Would I have to have a dog? I mean, they're just so loud, and hairy, and they're so much work! I just don't see what's so great about them.

Me: (gasp) I can't even believe I'm hearing this! You're British and you hate dogs??

WR: What, is this like a deal-breaker for you or something?

Me: I haven't decided yet!

WR: What if you had a robotic dog? A robotic dog could be quite nice.

Me: Don't even speak to me, you dog killer.

So after much prayer and fasting, I have decided not to let this be a deal-breaker. I mean, as awful as this is, I'm sure there are much, much worse things to discover about someone you're dating. Also, I think the reason WR doesn't like dogs is that he's never been friends with any. If he had, he would know.

There's time yet for that.

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