Indigo by Clarks "Smooch" in metallic grey and tan leather

plebefic headers: The princess belongs to the sexy Osaka man and vice versa

1. Summary: *sings* And they were locked in the closet!



2. Summary: Robert's been in love with Jude for a little while, but he didn't know his name until Guy Ritchie introduces them.



3. Summary: T-chan is there in sickness and in health, but what does he get in return? A note that says, 'Thank you for everything.'



4. Disclaimer: The princess belongs to the sexy Osaka man and vice versa. [Isn't it delicious when, due to being too clueless to realize the difference between FPS and RPS disclaimers, they end up with a disclaimer that does the exact opposite of what it's supposed to do?]



5. Warning: Written by an Australian so it is bound to reflect that in some way.

impending glam sightings, chair repair, procedural tv marathon

• Wax won tickets to see Adam Lambert on Finnish X-Factor's season finale in a little more than a week. I guess we'll be going to Helsinki then. Weirdly, although I am more crowd-averse, Wax seems to be more dubious about the prospect of sitting through the rest of the taping (presumably other people are going to be performing too?). Mmm, Helsinki! Maybe we can get some American food while we're there!



• After the legs completely fell off of my armchair, we bought some sturdy metal ones at Ikea thanks to a very nice and helpful little dude, but we couldn't put them on right away because each one needed about 4-5 screws and the wood frame of the chair is really hard. So for several weeks, I was sitting in the chair on the floor and had moved my monitor down like a foot. It was pretty weird. But last weekend, when we went to Pargas for Wax's favorite aunt's birthday, we borrowed MIL's power drill (which is kept in the woodshed at Ängisbacka) and so now my chair is the normal size again, and even has little felt pads on the feet! \o/ This is momentous. The chair problem was traumatic, guys.
  
  Wax & MIL last July at the woodshed or, as we like to call it after reading Emil i Lönneberga, Snickarboa.
  



• Wax was like "Let's make cupcakes!!" last night. Vanilla sheetcake, for future reference: don't top it with vanilla powdered sugar frosting. Ew. Maybe peanut butter, or lemon cream cheese. Or chocolate.



• AVOCADOS IN MY LIFE AGAINNNNN



• Been catching up on a month or so each of CSI, Criminal Minds, and Bones, plus all this season of NCIS. The highlight of every episode of CSI is the Hodges and Wendy scenes for me, which is weird because hello, Lawrence Fishburne: they're more exciting due to writing (totally not doing all they could with bb there), not acting. Conversely, my problem with McGee isn't the character but the actor. When I squint and separate the screenwriting from the acting now I can really see it. The writing has always been iffy on NCIS - actually a better term would maybe be "wildly fluctuating", because you've got some great banter and sometimes even good content alongside inconsistent, nonsensical plots and nauseating jingoism. The acting and Mark Harmon being a silver fox generally saves it, but McGee is an exception. Not that the guy can't act; I just hate the way he interprets the character. I am really enjoying, on a lighter note, The Softer Side of Gibbs. I've taken to saying "Twinkle! Twinkle!" out loud whenever the camera makes love to Mark Harmon's handsome little eye wrinkles, and infected Wax with the habit too.