If my kidney was 40 gigs, then maybe I wouldn't be thinking about selling it on the black market.

Dude, forty gigs and two hundred bucks? GIMME.

I should not be this spazzy about a new MP3 player but I really can't help myself. My MP3 CD player, it turns out, skips if you so much as nudge it a little, and I don't have the stuff I'd need to get my mini discs updated with new music and would rather spend the money on a new MP3 player. I don't need video, I don't need a stupid camera, I just really want a metric assload of space for music.

And let's see -- at the rate I'm going with Winchestercon and the teeth I STILL have to get fixed and the holidays coming up, I should be able to get a new MP3 player ... well, for Christmas. If I ask nicely. *sigh* I'd ask for it for my birthday, but I'm just going to tell my mother to toss some money into the Winchestercon pot for me. Eh, this'll be a good way for me to develop something vaguely resembling patience.

I was sitting here surprised at the time just now and wondering how the hell it got to be three in the morning and ... well. *points to link*

EDIT: I'm getting a copy of tonight's Project Runway, if anybody wants anything capped for an icon when I wake up. You know, like that shot of the other designers feeding Jeffrey to rabid wolverines.

... wait, what do you mean, that didn't happen? DAMN IT.

GIP!

Aw, look at little Michael. *pinches his cheeks*

Oh, and I've discovered a new pet peeve after last night's PR. It comes in two parts.

1. Being offended by the inherent sexism of that cursed Forbes article.
2. Making the bitchface about Laura's parenting skills, or how many kids she's got, or how she's obviously a horrible mother because she's doing Project Runway.

Remind me again how I'm supposed to stop going to the TWoP boards.

Another thing that bugged me last night -- ( Spoilers )