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A Book of Tongues: THUD
Oct. 27th, 2009 01:18 amWords added: 1,477. Almost at the end of section one--no, the actual end. Tomorrow a new round of So You Think You Can Dance Old-school Flava starts up again; tonight Heroes recreated a legendary modern lynching (the guy who got dragged behind a car while chained 'til he died) with a Jesus-haired emo white guy playing the role of lynch-ee, which was actually enough to make even me go: Hmmm. Seriously, guys, if you ever want to win back the people who already hate you, this is maybe not the way to go (especially now that we're down to exactly two onscreen black characters--Invisible Girl vs. Narconon Guy, Sunday Sunday Sunday. Though at least they did mention Mohinder, if nothing else...).
Oh yeah, and I accidentally surfed by footage of a breast reduction in progress, which was--kind of awful. Like: "Holy shit, are those her nipples in that cup?"-type awful. I simply have to force myself to not think about it, and move on.
In other news, Cal was sick tonight--spiked a brief but intense fever, not so much burning up as feeling definitely baked to the touch, then fell asleep in our bed for a couple of hours. Then woke up, fine and cool and chirpy. During it, he lost every scrap of language (normal), but did at one point yell something garbled which sounded a bit like "bath!"; when he woke, he toddled right into the john, and demanded one clearly. And said "yes!" when I asked him if he wanted to get out, later on. So--yeah, cool. I could've done without the fever, though.
Okay: More drugs, cool-down, bed. Tomorrow I push through. I'm breaking this fucker, or know the reason why.
Oh yeah, and I accidentally surfed by footage of a breast reduction in progress, which was--kind of awful. Like: "Holy shit, are those her nipples in that cup?"-type awful. I simply have to force myself to not think about it, and move on.
In other news, Cal was sick tonight--spiked a brief but intense fever, not so much burning up as feeling definitely baked to the touch, then fell asleep in our bed for a couple of hours. Then woke up, fine and cool and chirpy. During it, he lost every scrap of language (normal), but did at one point yell something garbled which sounded a bit like "bath!"; when he woke, he toddled right into the john, and demanded one clearly. And said "yes!" when I asked him if he wanted to get out, later on. So--yeah, cool. I could've done without the fever, though.
Okay: More drugs, cool-down, bed. Tomorrow I push through. I'm breaking this fucker, or know the reason why.
