Weirdly, I was convinced he had played John Constantine, referring to him as “Judge John Constantine”, in what could only be the Constantine/Judge John Deed mashup the world so clearly needs.
Managed to somehow hurt the exact centre of my back while asleep, during dreams, as far as I can remember, spent strenuously trying to recall Willem Dafoe’s name.
Just got some surprisingly positive feedback from a short story competition earlier in the year, despite, on a re-read, now realising how completely unhinged it was.
“They drink their drinks and defecate happily.” « genuinely the final line of the story.
Is it weird that every now and again I get the theme tune to GoBots running around my head? Specifically, as sung by Timmy Mallett.
I didn’t even watch the cartoon.
Rain now very aggressively trying to get into my house through the rear windows. Rude.
Hammering with its tiny, tiny fists.
Just heard what sounded like an old timey stream train whistle being pursued by a police siren.
Is it possible to be haunted by Looney Tunes?
“Is someone emptying a skipful of sand on my roof?”
Get-up-and-look-outside-worriedly levels of rain noise.
Oddly stressful dreams of wandering supermarket aisles looking for the new AI-powered chocolate.
Ah yes, bin day tomorrow, announces the unexpectedly windy night.
Sufficient moody rain to summon a Batman.
Tiny snow falling thickly.
The impotent hard ting of icy rain when already snuggly immune.
Also, Bill Pullman moves himself around as though powered by supermarionation, and I in no way mean that as an insult.
100% did not remember Richard Pryor or Marilyn Manson being in that film… feels like entirely distinct eras overlapping.
Lynch’s Lost Highway, a darkened room, a wintry evening.
A non-zero chance my sanity won’t hold.
The little section of my back garden that the birds routinely attack also appears to retain snow after a melt.
It’s not really snowing, more raining directly into ice.
Another day of accidentally making myself a nice cup of steamed milk instead of actual coffee…