dear diary

I know y'all missed me while I was away. This is a lightly edited version of an email I sent to Sheila, my host for the last week; the only clarification I'm giving to folks who don't read My Other Diary Thingie is that Sheila's brother is currently performing mechanical feats on my regular car and has given me an... interesting car to drive in the mean time. ( forthwith, email )

care and feeding of your gaiman

via Neil's own weblog, a guide to Neil Handling.

signs of christmas, Irish style

It must be Christmas, the Post Office is on strike.

Yes, really.

warren ellis eats my brain

So last night I dreamt that I was on the piss with Warren Ellis, and we'd no sooner gotten into a bar when he'd persuaded two girls to come sit with us, one with a Northern accent and the other Dublin, I think. Then he wandered off, and when he came back the bar filled up with people wearing soccer team shirts and scarves (blue and white; for some reason, the word "Millwall" bounced around my head) who proceeded to stab the ethnic staff in a really slow and casual fashion. At which point I very suddenly woke up with a racing heart. JEEZ, Warren. Turn off the frickin' brane ray.