Blood just fascinates me. I did a number on my finger about a half an hour ago doing the dishes, when one of them broke in my hands and took a fairly significant gulp of my right index knuckle, and I watched the blood go for a few minutes... and then I busted out the camera and started taking pictures. (See below.) Anyways it's ironic that my mousing finger should come to grief while I'm attempting to finish the long-procrastinated fine cut of Standoff, but that is indeed what happened. I have bandaged things up as best I can and am pressing onwards - it's very close now, I am just doing a final pass to clean up a few cuts that aren't quite as smooth as I wanted them to be... but the flick should be picture locked this afternoon which means I can move on to colour grading and sound design... which at the rate I've been going oughta take me another half a year, but I'm committed to getting this done by Christmas so I guess I'll have to ramp up the production speed a bit. Was that sentence just really long and meandering? How many times have I used "just" in this paragraph? Boy - how much blood did I lose here? Woooo.... zee.

Off to buy Spider-man bandaids and polysporin. I'll put the bloody picture after the jump (never used the jump before!) because it's sort of like Tederick.com: The Horror Movie and you shouldn't have to watch it if you don't want to. Like The Passion of the Tederick.com. And seeing the snap right at the top of the page would send my mother into paroxysms of grief and make my father pass out, so best that they not see it when they come here looking for Benedict reviews.