It's the last one! I'm distraught! Grief-stricken! How will I ever survive?!

Fabian, I don't care what it takes. Kidnap someone. Hold Stan Lee to ransom. I DON'T CARE. You can't stop now!

«17:10» Sometimes teh intarwebs makes me happy

This one is for Alan Moore fans.

It's immensely dull. This is one of the most influential books of the 20th century? For why? I don't see it.

«12:25» Reasons to commute by bicycle #5685: Commuter Racing

I realised I'd picked up a tail.

As a result of my over-active imagination, I'm always on the lookout for tails. You know, black-ops military types lying in wait to whisk me off to some hidden lab somewhere to prod and poke and generally turn my latent mutant superpowers into a secret weapon. I mostly get trapped in that particular bout of paranoid fantasy on public transport, however I've been getting a lot of attention on the street of late and I'm not convinced it's just because the warmer weather has me dressed in skimpier clothing and my 32DD assets (coupled with a 22" waist, which makes all the difference) are being noticed more often.

Although you never know.

Boobs aside, this morning I have a tail. After 5 minutes or so I relax my legs and let the natural inclination of a fixed gear to slow down if its rider seems to have lost interest have its way. Eventually my tail takes the hint and pulls in front.

Frabjous day! He has some manners! He gives it half a breath so I can spin up to speed and take his wheel. And then we hit the roundabout. He times his approach for one, not two, and I am forced to squeal to a halt in the face of a fast-moving blue Lexus.

Right. That's it.

I give chase, catch him before the next roundabout and go past. Now he notices that I'm a girl on a fixed gear. And I've overtaken him.

Guys don't like that very much.

Without boring you with the details of roundabout approach tactics (I'm an outside girl: he was an inside man) and him taking advantage of his gears on the long, slight descent (I refuse to spin up to more than 120rpm at that time of the morning: it's indecent), suffice to say I won.

Naturally.

I have taken tomorrow off. I have also ordered the Orange Box express delivery (not to mention a pile of Marvel comics — note to self: don't tell Frood how much it all cost).

Winning a commuter race is hopefully the start of a good long weekend. Certainly takes the sting out of having to work today.

I had to sit through 2 hours of Robert Downey Jr playing action hero (admittedly doing a good job) and the inevitable long big punch-up plus the credits for 5 measley seconds of Samuel L Jackson as Nick Fury?

Nick Fury should have doing his "the man" thing from about 20 minutes in. And no way do they get to retcon SHIELD into being part of the "war on terror". No. Dude. No way. SHIELD = UN task force. Not part of the Dept of Homeland Security. On that I will not budge.

So now I have to hang on and hope that when the New Avengers finally gets together they make a good job of it.

All that aside, though, Robert Downey Jr managed to make me like Tony Stark. That's some feat. And the suit was cool.

I wish Jarvis at the League could render and fabricate like that.

«23:37» Things I have discovered #238

Whipping tendrils mean massive tangles.

Thing is, I don't have proper hair. I have fluff. My hair is incredibly fine. It's so fine it's practically weightless. So when it comes to brushing out the tangles...

Ow. Ow ow ow.

Ow.

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