Plenty of fun over at the Browncoats site, for those who still remember their password; today the A/V room is featuring a deleted scene of Inara teaching space whoring at Space Whore Academy. I suppose it'll be on the DVD, but that's a whole five days away! Mmm... space whores.

The only problem with the movie last night was this damn kid. First of all, he was literally running in an endless circle in the lobby beforehand - maybe 3 years old, asian, wearing a red jumper, and wheeling about for what had to have been ten minutes. He nearly crashed into me as I was making my way past him, and then (because he's a kid and kids are stupid) he continued his little circle and crashed clean into me again - took my bag straight to the melon, which he seemed to find utterly shocking. Then, in the movie, he screamed a lot, but not at the scary parts; he screamed with delight a lot, at pretty skies, or big rocks. Then later, his grandparents (?) escorted him out of the theatre as soon as we were off Skull Island, which for some reason pissed me off more: clearly the kid was too young or too undisciplined to be brought to a movie anyway, but now you're removing him from the theatre before he has to suffer the ignominy of watching Kong get shot off the Empire State Building? Is this how we're growing men these days? Why not show him the Blockbuster cut of Bambi while you're at it?

Bah.

So to prove that life is entirely cyclical, I once again find myself with a schoolboy crush on a Snailer. I don't go in much for schoolboy crushes... even when I was a schoolboy. (I look adorable in knee-high wool socks, though, I'll tell ya.) But hey, I have to work within my mien. And it doesn't really matter... with 2005 sputtering to a finish, I'm glad of anything that alleviates boredom by even 1%. These are such excruciatingly dull days. Even the great sources of what should be stress in my life no longer raise my hackles; I mock their hackle-raising abilities. I'm sure some great force will stomp upon me shortly, because I'm overdue for another beating, but until then I merely yawn and cast about for something pretty to look at.