Have also had that weasels-gnawing-at-my-belly feeling at work from time to time, where my insides twist themselves into ribbons of excitement over the mental visual of sporking my coworkers to death. Stop crunching that apple, you deathless twit! Stop clipping your nails at your desk, filthy whoreson! Stop being an imbecile or at least stop being one in proximity to me! You know.
Today what I'd like to know is how to keep a community on one's flist without having to see the particular and all too frequent entries of someone whose choice of user icon makes you want to gag. I don't think there's a solution for that though.
Finished season three of Alias last night. ... Huh. ... ::crickets chirp:: ... Huh. ... A pretty crappy season, I have to say, which I think suffers by watching it all at once, rather than on the tight-rope of tension created by real-time viewing. But it had its moments, and I don't mean that to harsh anyone's buzz, because I'm on board for season 4 and am feeling those faint dangerous stirrings of fan-fiction need.
I signed up for Nanowrimo. Am nervous.
