What? What? Right, right, there are other people in the world. My head is not spinning, I've just had too much candy. We didn't have any trick or treaters, and I've gotten nothing done since that formal reports thing I did this afternoon.
Michelle is off celebrating Samhain with a Dinner for the Dead, Christian just got home from German home cooking, and the house is pretty dead. I've thrown on some Portishead for tragic flair. I should probably go read Life of Pi but instead I'm going to try and crank on some text for Elitia and then shuffle off into nothingville. You know, sleep. Time for a little dream archeology. I've been having spiders of lucid dreams, or at least highly vivid ones - not necessarily full sensory, but full emotion. Full heat of the battle.
Peaches, "Fuck the Pain Away." From the scene in Lost in Translation with the strippers. You know, you'd think as you get older the stupid naughty lyrics thing will stop working, but this is not true.