too many freaks, not enough circuses

I've just been reading through the treatments Bill's sent me for the teasers for Scifi 2010 (we've got to work on a proper title for this thing too - we had a half hearted attempt at a brain storm today so we could get past using that working title but it produced nothing worth repeating) and rather than put my thoughts in a private email back to him I'm blogging about it instead. The drafts are annoyingly good. I hate it when people display greater talent than I will ever be capable of. Naturally as always I've got a tuppence worth to throw in of course; and obviously I will tell Bill his offering was barely acceptable and my trusty red pen will still have plenty to do - I'll talk to him tomorrow about that - but I'm really looking forward to when we get going on this.

Exciting times!

Straight to Youtube my bum, McCullough!

I'm pretty tired tonight, so I was thinking of just writing 'Dave McCullough is a douchebag - he knows why' and then writing up this blog properly tomorrow and hopefully remembering to explain the nature of McCullough's doucheness (as soon as I get my contribution for Ikon binary finished (it's this Sunday you know) I'm still going to have to bring you up to speed later because I'm knackered and not my usual coquettish, death or glory, slightly Bridget Jonesy self and need sleep so bad I feel giddy and therefore won't be getting through the half of it tonight.

Needless to say I was in the company of the aforementioned Dave tonight. Round at Claire's (whose house is considerably nicer than mine).

He made it pretty clear he's both threatened by and in awe of me. Me and my blog. So there.

Tell you what though, I made his missus Ruth really nostalgic for supermousse. Ruth and I agree to differ on the point of whether the strawberry or the minty choc chip was nicer, but we had a good long reminisce about the intricate presentation of the supermousse, pride was clearly taken in the creation of each individual s/mousse, the satisfyingly hard chocolate separating each little flourishy turret of cream and the way you could scoop out the ice cream from between each chocolatey bit. Epic! Pale contemporary imitations simply do not meet this high standard.

Ruth has theories about the way you choose to demolish your s/mousse. It reveals much about your character.

Then we talked about the good old days of when all we had to deal with was the bankruptcy and armed robbery we were unwilling passengers of (remind me to tell you those stories sometime) - but hey! at least we can cackle about it over bowls of finger food now...

Okay, I'm winding this up for tonight, but one thing I must do before I turn in is mention Robbie Render because I promised him an honourable mention tonight and he'll be cross and not let me into the wrestling next time if I don't, so wotcha Robbie!

ffs....

...now you and Bill are equal...

...If McCullough wants an arch-nemesis he's got one...