Thursday, bloody Thursday.

There's so little that can dig this day out of its own hole. Ironically, last week it was a Statistics test. This week, the weather is trying very hard, having dropped about five merciful degrees and thrown in a bonus breeze. It ain't over 'til 9:30 though, so we'll see.

silentfire did her part for the cause, sending over The Beatles' Yeah, Yeah, Yeah to lighten the mood. How much does it amuse me that people now hail them as this bastion of musical genius and conveniently forgive & forget that they once were and remain the quintessential boyband? You know, maybe it's because this fandom has done wonders for my shame issues, but I can say I like that song and Sound of Silence in the same breath. And ooh, look, no spontaneous combustion either! Eat that, music critics.

I'm considering a shirt that says "Pop Culture Deviant" on the front and has Justin with his "revolutionary" bandana on the back. People won't know what to do with me.

Ran into George's Michael (heh) on the street, had a great conversation wherein he managed to trump by week and for that, I truly am sorry. He seemed good though, gave me an advance invite to their Halloween bash, and told me to keep my ass in better touch. My wording, not his, but I would've laughed.

Had an excellent lunch courtesy of the Hare Krishnas in the Plaza of the Americas. Philosophical question pondered as I ate my curried veggies? What is it like to be a permanent fixture in a transient place? Like a gas station attendant or an airport employee. I don't think I could do it - it seems so grating on the soul to be the one invariably left behind in a place people never want to be more than their destination.

The Germany-era pictures being posted by slimslash have me trolling eBay for the like. Pictures and magazines man, I am such a predictable magpie. Even ate newsprint as a child!

Yesterday was uneventful, beyond the Journalism history test. With today's Reporting test, I grow ever more convinced that all the fun people are cooped up and underappreciated in newspaper offices. I also need to find a proper picture for an ingenious icon idea that I will shamelessly exploit. Giving credit, of course. Maybe I just wanted to say the word 'exploit.'

Sent around a good bit of JoeC and Bassez to various and sundry who asked. Pointedly realized a few things:

-Lance has a very expressive face and tends to forget that chances are there's a camera around
-everybody is constantly touching JC, who tends to gravitate toward Lance when he's the one taking the initative
-they're the biggest bunch of dorks in the history of all music ever
-it's quite adorable how Justin and Chris totally think the sun rises and sets on each other

Goobers! Goobers and nothing but. And really, who doesn't love a goober?

Justin Month, Day Twenty-Five

You adorable, goofy boy. He's kept that about himself, and that makes him aces in a business of jaded primadonnas.

Hell by Emmy

Justin kept smiling. "I don't tease."

Like fuck you don't. After some generous persuasion, Chris pretty much sums up my TimberTrick philosophy here.

GIP!

I made the pie analogy, popfantastic made the funny, and walkingshadow made the icon. Go team us!

Next project? I liked pie when it was flour in the pantry. Make pie, not war. Eat pie.

Aah. Fandom, politics, and sex.

Me oh my.