no, I'M Spartacus
First things first:
The Blackburn Rovers' team jersey:
A can of Red Bull:
I'M JUST SAYING.
And as long as I'm messing around with pictures, here is one I know my new long-distance boy/girlfriend in Shawford will want to see:
I hope that photo doesn't cause any glasses fetishists' heads to explode. I will not be held responsible for funeral expenses or dry cleaning bills.
Last night I fell asleep with Lucy on my pillow. She had her head tucked into my head and I had my hand on her side; it was probably the very picture of adorableness, and I'm sure Lucy was very cute too. [do you see what I did there? why am I not the most famous comedian or tumler in the world?] Anyway, I slept well and we got up early to go to the track, except we didn't go to the track because I didn't feel like being there in the pitch dark. Instead we went for a walk around the neighborhood in the almost pitch dark (ineffectual streetlights) and listened to the hickory nuts falling out of the trees all over the place. We also heard what sounded like a strange, tremulous voice say something from the darkened carport of a darkened house and we started walking faster (while observing, "that was really fucking creepy"). Once back at home, we made coffee and watched a UEFA Champions League game--Manchester United vs some French team--on fast-mo, plus The Daily Show. Francisco made himself some toast and then later put some toast in for me, at which point the toaster apparently forgot how to pop the toast up after it's done. I kept waiting for the sound of my toast popping up and finally went in there to find it smoldering lazily, still toasting. Subsequent toasting efforts yielded the same non-popping up results, so it looks like we need to replace Old Crispy.
My friend, Miss Catie, asked a good question in my guestbook yesterday: Why do I have to watch less television? Well, I'll tell you. I don't have to, for any particular reason, it's just that I start to feel very uneasy when I watch a lot of television, because I know the minutes of my life are ticking over and I'm spending them watching imaginary people in fictional situations. I just feel like I should be doing something else, like reading an improving book or learning the finer points of cage fighting. I'll start with a trip to the library, how about? Maybe kill two birds with one stone.
Sufjan Stevens -- The Seer's Tower, at Veritas Lux Mea (scroll down to the bottom).
Silver Jews -- Buckingham Rabbit, at Stereogum.
I Am Robot and Proud -- A Proposal to Tune the World to F, at Motel de Moka.
Tiger Tunes -- Pancake America, at Fluxblog.
Francisco is making a crockpot version of coq au vin for tonight's dinner and if you think I'm not already looking forward to that, you don't know me very well.
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