So, I'm supposed to be ranting. About darkness and art and fandom and Te and being everybody's 13-year-old sister, and why we can't decide on a fucking name for the new cat. But it's quarter to one in the morning, and Jen dragged me out of the house so I could go with her to the bank and loan (which should be give, since I owe her money anyway) her some cash to transfer to her account. I say dragged, in that she started discussing fandom with me and made it impossible not to go with her if I wanted to continue the conversation. So naturally... But now I'm shot, so I'm reading the Son of Small Fry posts, and thinking about ranting in the morning.
Have I mentioned I'm tired?
Spike's ass had a tendency to make Xander think evil thoughts. - J. Walkswithwind