The Year of Housewifing Desperately

Well, it has been a year since I moved in with SP, but I've still got several aprons to go before I'm a fully qualified Desperate Housewife.


You see, housewifery is akin to martial arts. In fact, it predates them. Ever since the first caveman clubbed a female over the head, dragged her back to his cave and said: "Ug" (translation: Clean this place up, Woman, it's a sabretoothed pigsty. And have my dinner ready when I get home, too. I'm going out to wrestle a wooly mammoth), in fact.
There are aprons for several important housewife duties, such as: shopping, table-laying, afternoon drinking and passive-aggressive manipulation amongst others. I'm currently up to a pink apron in table-laying and pastel blue in afternoon drinking! Once I've achieved ivory aprons in any two duties, I will be expected to train a Houseboy. Being the foreward thinking and prepared housewife that I am, I've already got my eye on a couple I'd be willing to take under my apron!
However, unlike martial arts such as judo, in housewifery, the top apron colour to aspire to is white. You see, a white apron shows that the housewife can do every duty expected of her/him whilst keeping the apron spotless and pristine.

Of course, there are those who go too far and covet the exclusive perfection of qualifying as a Stepford Wife. Not for me the full frontal lobotomy and range of tasteful cybernetics that goes with being one of those!

Two week recap

I know I’ve been away for nearly a couple of weeks, but I do have a good reason: I've been in shock, then despair and then, finally, mourning. Why? Because I found out that Tim didn’t put up that Valentine post. I found out that one of the SubCs did it. The Host's, if I'm not very much mistaken. I’m still not sure that I’m totally over the trauma of finding out that Tim doesn't actually love me, but I thought it’s about time I pulled myselves together and came back to show my face.

So, now I'm here I'd better fill you in as to what's been happening in the world of IDV:

Somehow, Indescribable has gone and got herself engaged. And not to some hideous bog monster or disgusting denizen of the deep like herself, but to an actual human being. Albeit one who thinks that this is a stylish car:

(Images via Auto Express)

Pah! Why settle for the Ford 'duller-than-the-dingiest-doldrums dull' Focus when you can have exquisitely styled fashionable thrills in this, the Alfa Romeo Giulietta:


Anyway, Indescribable's engagement has given SP ideas. I keep getting reminded about marriage. Now, I'm in no hurry to shackle myself to SP for the rest of our unlives - especially as being somewhat undead (what with him being an incubus and me slightly vampiric) the rest of our unlives could be a very long time indeed. Although, I do love him so the idea is not entirely out of the question. No. What bothers me a little is that I never really believed in marriage, plus - and this is a big plus - he wants me to ask him! And I'm the 'woman' in our relationship, as he keeps telling me, so he should ask me!! I'm all for equal rights, but not when they're ladled out to suit him. Oh, no.

Plus, I’ve been totally stressed out about a now cancelled move. To cut a long story short, in a moment of intermaweb surfing boredom SP saw the house of his dreams: A 4 bed, double garaged, double fronted, detached house - And a new-build to boot! It would mean, he said trying to convince me, that we could just move in and not have to worry about spending money on doing anything to it. Things that need to be done in our current home like replacing the boiler and radiators, knocking the w.c. & bathroom into one room, building a downstairs w.c., replacing the back door, redirecting the drains, replacing the guttering, creating more storage space, reshingling the driveway, and the list goes on.
Eventually, I caved in and said that if we could afford it, we could move. However, I knew full well that we couldn't afford it and I thought he would soon come to the same conclusion, too. That was not to be the case, though. It took two weeks of me explaining, pointing out, nagging and finally arguing that we couldn't afford to move. It was a very fraught and turbulent two weeks, I can tell you. And to top it off, I also discovered that there weren't any Ley lines anywhere near the new house which would make arial navigation a bit more haphazard.
Anyway, we're no longer moving - Well, not any time soon - So now all I've got to put up with is SP going on about how he hates our home and that as we can't afford to get everything done instantly, he's going to be like this for ages. Great.

And to top it all off, Svaathor da Vjis and his centaur cronies popped by unannounced the other day. They inadvertantly trampled the driveway into a muddy, stony mess because I wouldn't let them in as I'd only just cleaned up the filthy, muddy paw prints that Moom had created after her walk! So SP and I have been sorting out the aftermath. We've dug over half the drive and are going to have turf over that half, then we'll have to sort out the drainage before putting some fresh gravel or shingle down.

And that, amongst other more minor matters, is why I haven't been around lately.

So, now that I'm back, I'd better see what you've all been up to...

Sparky's Malarkey

On my blog travels this morning, I found THIS:



Luckily, I managed to capture it before Tim had a change of heart, as I notice it's no longer published on his blog. He must have been ashamed of the crappy graphics...

Still, he loves me!




Oops! I forgot to delete the last couple of lines of his post.


Bugger.

If it's good enough for MJ...

Sorry I haven't been around much this past week, but I've had things to attend to. Unalive things. So, to facilitate a speedy return, I'm just going to die a little bit to make this whole palaver that little bit easier. Plus, I thought I'd repost (with a few amendments) this post from August 2007 because it serves the purpose. And I'm too lazy to churn out a brand spanking new one.


Nearly there...


Back soon.

Ghastlier than a thousand ghouls

Honestly, I'm surprised people didn't run screaming for the hills when I went out earlier. My hair was a greasy mess, as was my skin; what I thought was an acceptable amount of stubble in fact looked like I was auditioning for Robinson Crusoe; and the clothes I was wearing looked as if they'd been pulled out of the washing bin. I must have been ghastlier than a thousand ghouls!

Long time readers may have guessed the reason for this lapse in standards (if they're not out-and-out rude, that is): Yes. It was all down to MirrorMe again.
The dratted reflection had once again got up before me and pampered & preened until he looked fantastic, then beat me to the mirror so I thought it was me I was looking at, not 'Me. You can imagine my horror when I got home and saw my reflection in the hall mirror. I'm surprised it didn't shatter at the piercing scream I gave! The fact that I saw my actual reflection and not MirrorMe means he must still be out somewhere. Well, I've got a surprise for him when he comes home: I'm going to trap him between two mirrors so he can never go out again!

Mwah hah hah hah haa!

You remember me!

Ah, hello. Fancy seeing you here! Sorry we haven't been about much in the last few days - We caught the plague again. Not a particularly virulent variety, but just enough to keep us off work and firmly ensconced on the sofa watching the first (and best) season of Heroes.
And now you're here, you're just in time for a books-read-this-year-so-far post. Ha!

We must do better than last year's feeble attempt to read more than the year before. We came sadly short of the heady heights of 23 books read back in 2008, only managing to read 14. But, this year will be different. This year we will astound and amaze you all, not only with the amount of non-Star trek books we will read, but also - well, I haven't thought of a "but also" yet, but I'm sure something will crop up.
Anyway, to start things off, here are the first four books-read-this-year:


1. Star Trek Vanguard: Precipice, by David Mack

I'm saving myself the bother of writing this one up as I know you just don't care. I will say this, however: David Mack is one of the finest writers of our time (in my opinion, of course), and continues to make reading about the lives of those caught up in the contininuing events related to Starbase 47, aka Vanguard Station, a pleasure.


2. Nation, by Terry Pratchett

I took me a little while to get into this book because I was of the opinion "if it ain't broke, don't fix it", i.e. This isn't a Discworld book, so why should I bother. Well, I'm glad I stuck with it as it's a terrific story.
Without wanting to spoil the story for anyone who wants to read it, here is the author's note:
This might look like a book set in the Pacific Ocean. Nothing could be further from the truth!!!!!* It is in fact set in a parallel universe, a phenomenon known only to physicists and anyone who has ever watched any episode of any sf series, anywhere. Different things happened, some people lived at different times, some bits of history have been changed, some things are made up out of real pieces (like the beer and the last five minutes of the Sweet Judy**) and so on. But the Great Pelagic Ocean is its own place.
Oddly enough, though, after the book was finished I learned that the Society Islands in the Pacific were named after the Royal Society in London by the famous Captain Cook, because it had sponsored the first British scientific survey of the islands. Sometimes it's hard to make things up . . .

* All exclamation marks were provided by The Author. They are not my own addition.
** A sailing ship wrecked upon the island of Nation by a tidal wave.


3. Grinny, by Nicholas Fisk

This book scared me silly when I first read it as a child and it's still creepy and disturbing today. It centres around a family whose Great Aunt Emma (or Grinny, as she's nicknamed by the daughter) turns up out of the blue to stay with them. The thing is, the mother and father have no clue who she is until GAE says the phrase "You remember me!", and then it's as if a recognition switched is flipped. The two children Tim and Beth, and their friend Mac, quickly discover Grinny's horrifying secret and set about ridding their family of Grinny in the hope of saving the world.


4. Stardust, By Neil Gaiman

Now, this was not the amazing read that I thought it would be. Don't get me wrong, it's very good (especially as it doesn't feature Ricky 'I'm an irritating unfunny twat' Gervais, like the film version did), and a very easy read, but just not on par with the film's grander scale of character, marvel and enjoyment. I also didn't find it very involving.



Well, that's it for January. I hoping to read at least another four books in February, but we'll see how well that goes nearer the time, eh?

Scabby old bat

Can you smell burning?
It smells like burning hair.
Yuck. I hate that smell. Where's it coming from?
* sniff sniff * Over there. Look.
Where? Oh, yes. Is that a dragon?
Is it?!
Lawks! Let's get out of here.

Oh no you don't! We're here now and Moom's expecting a walk. I'm not letting some jumped up lizard dictate whereabouts I walk just because it can incinerate a mortal at one hundred paces.
And, besides, if something's burning, chances are that it's already eaten.
Exactly. Hopefully, it'll have eaten that dreadful cow who walks that ratty little Yorkshire terrier, or whatever it is.

Yes, well, I don't think we should go bounding up as bold as brass.
Yeah, let's just stick to the woods at the edge of the park.

Oh, don't be such babies. We're more than a match for some scaly, scabby old bat.

Careful! We're right out in the open, now.
It's looking right at us! Run away!

Wha-? Jinkies! Look at the size of it! Uh, I think we will walk in the woods, after all.
* squints into the mist * Ohforgodssakes. It's not a dragon: It's that old tree stump in the middle of the park, you dolts!

Then what's the burning smell?

* sniff sniff * Smells like weed. I bet it's those delinquent teenagers from the housing estate up the road. Bloody hooligans. Where's a dragon when you need one?

An unpleasant entry

The garden was barely visible. A thick blanket of fog had fallen and was doing a remarkably good job of obscuring anything more than two or three metres away. I sighed and turned back to the soup.
And snapped my head back again as something out there caught my eye.
Did something move out there in the garden? Did something big just cut a swathe through the fog, only to have it rapidly close in again after it? Was I imagining things? Again?
Probably. I turned back to the pan of soup.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

I jumped as I stirred the soup that was gently warming on the hob and spun towards the back door. A swarm of filthy, disgusting flies buzzed in through the gaps around the pulled-to door, causing me to recoil in horror. Before they reached me, the flies quickly coalesced into a figure. It was Izzkt. Or at least most of him - The rest was probably stuck to the fly-paper coils hanging in the sunroom.

"Ooh, I do wish you wouldn't do that" I said, holding my nose. "I told you I'd call you when it was ready. Pheeewwww!"

Dreaming of Mim

I had a dream the other night, in which I and my former tutor, Shee-La, aka the Princess Of Poached Eggs* (maysherestinpeace), found ourselves in a square, stone bell tower. At the top was the mad Madam Mim, and, let me tell you, she was mad that we were in her tower. POPE and Madam Mim got into a magical dual, but POPE, after becoming invisible, lost the majority of her powers, so I had to intervene.
In the dream, I was still young and inexperienced, so I wasn't faring too well. Suddenly, Mim knocked me out of one of the glassless windows - Hoping that I would fall to my doom, I shouldn't wonder. Instead, I managed to summon a broom (not Broom) and stop my plummet earthwards. But, the broom was invisible and relied on the power of belief to keep it tangible, which was very difficult to achieve what with most of my thought going into spell-casting and attempting to remain aboard (side-saddle, of course. A witch never rides astride a broom - That's for those heathen warlocks). It was also desperately slow. I was reduced to firing spells at Mim in through the windows and avoiding her retaliatory barrages as I very slowly orbited the tower.

Then I woke up.

I wonder what it means? Perhaps it's a premonition that Mim has recovered from the effects of Merlin's germ warfare and is on her way here? I do hope so, as I lent her my butter dish years ago and would rather like it back.





* She ran a cafe and had mastered the egg in all its forms, especially the poached variety, hence her nickname (unknown to her, though - It was only my sister Indescribable and I who called her POPE - out of her earshot, of course).

Hottest Sci-Figure 2009

I think it's time to wrap up the lingering vestiges of 2009 and post this; the half-arsed award ceremony for 2009's Hottest Sci-Figure, as chosen by you (and me, of course - After all, this is my blog).



First, here are the red carpet photos just prior to the awards. However, in my somewhat overzealous efforts to protect the identities of those of you with faces not worth showing, by not showing your faces, I've somehow not shown the faces of everyone. I know that those of you who do have faces worth showing may be miffed, but I'm not going back and doing it all again. So there.


Now that the publicity photos are done and dusted, let's get on with the show.

The nominees for 2009's Hottest Sci-Figure are:

Josh Duhamel
(to see him naked, click here)

The Cylons: Tricia Helfer, Grace Park, Lucy lawless & Callum Keith Rennie





Katee Sackhoff

Zachary Quinto and Chris Pine

After much deliberation, the winner is: Chris Pine!

Well, it must have been obvious that I wasn't going to pick a girl. And while CKR is undoubtably sexy, he's just a little too craggy and I couldn't find a suitably clothe-less picture. So that left Josh, Sylar and Captain Kirk. Josh was the first to go as I find him a little too perfect (and facially, in some pictures, he looks like that hideous creature John Barrowman). Sylar, oh Sylar. You had everything going for you until Heroes watered you down - You should have been killed off while the going was good.

Look Back at Your Favorite Blog Post of 2009

As instructed by Tara's first post of the decade, here is a look back at my favourite blog post of 2009. The instructions aren't clear as to whether it should be the blogger's post or a post of another blogger, so in an egomaniacal way, I'm choosing one of my own.

Before I'd even thought about it, Cusp Trek II (the one for Tim's birthday) popped straight into my mind. However, I don't class that particular post as finished as it's only one part of many (I'll get around to posting the further adventures soon, I promise), so I came up with this shortlist:

1. The 2009 Coven Awards (Well, I spent a long time compiling it and doing the graphics, so of course it's a contender)
2. Splish, Splash, Splosh! (the posts for 'Petra's birthday)
3. A Hallowe'en Stalking (because it was my first video posting)
4. Dungeons & Drag Queens (my birthday post - even though I finished it a little abruptly)
5. The Valentines Day Mascara (chosen for the title which comes from is inspired by the film Priscilla: Queen of the Desert - See Princess's gracious help in the comments with my fading memory)

After much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I have chosen Dungeons & Drag Queens as my favourite post of 2009, with Splish, Splash, Splosh! running it a close second. D&D won out in the end because it features Tim wearing little more than a belt. And if that isn't enough for you, then I don't know what is!

For those of you with lazy or inoperative clicking fingers, you'll find the winning post (almost) in its entirety below:


Dungeons & Drag Queens


“Hey, look! A dungeons and dragons ride!” Dora yelled, running towards the imposing fairground ride.
“Wow! Neat!” Dinah exclaimed and took off after her.
The rest of The Coven and ‘Petra followed the girls, barged past the queue (after all, it is my birthday), then jumped in to the lead car with Dora and Dinah. The ride started slowly then began to pick up speed, passing plastic skeletons brandishing plastic swords, papier-mâché demons gurning and snarling at the trackside, and a huge fibreglass dragon spewing terrifying orange and yellow silk streamers in an approximation of fire.
“Gimme a break” ‘Petra groaned, rolling his eyes.
“My arse is scarier than this” Dora sneered.
“I’ll say” T-Bird agreed a little too enthusiastically.
“Hey!”
“That last dragon reminded me of Audrey” I said. “Oh, that reminds me, I never finished telling you about the palaver it was getting all of Audrey’s stuff over to SP’s.”
Tim slumped in his seat, his head lolling to one side hilariously (yeah, right), as I ignored him and continued.
“There were her medications and the list of how much and when; we had to pick up her shower chair; there’s the batteries for her hearing aid; magnifying glass for reading-" My monologue was rudely interrupted by our car shaking on the rails.
The tunnel blurred, it’s painted images fading into one another before streaking out to nothing as we shot past. I’d be damned (again) if I was going to let a little thing like that stop me though, so I took a deep breath to continue. And then the light vanished, plunging us into darkness. All momentum appeared to have ceased and silence reigned. Until…
“What happened?!” I exclaimed.
“Your mouth used up all the power” Tim snarled.
“Don’t worry IDV, we can still find the bar” ‘Petra quipped.
“Where’s my flashlight?” T-Bird asked. “In fact, where’s my bag? Peecat's in it!”
“I think it’s here next to me” Tim answered. “I’ll get the torch out” he continued, rifling around in the bag. “Where is it? In a pocket?” There were more sounds of rummaging, followed by a brief silence, then: “Where’s the switch?”
“Bring it here” T-Bird said.
“Oh, here it is.”

* bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz *

“What is this?”
And then there was light.
“Oh!” T-Bird screamed in mortified horror as everyone saw what Tim was holding.
Tim looked at the massive dildo in his hands and guffawed. He continued laughing as he took the mighty tool out of the rest of The Coven’s sight.
“What was that?” Dinah asked innocently.
“It was an… Uhhh…” I struggled for an explanation “electric ear cleaner.”
“It was kinda big.”
“It sure was!” ‘Petra intoned as Dora looked on smugly.

- - -

After the hubbub had died down, we followed Tim towards the source of light with T-Bird bringing up the rear, blushing furiously.
“Where are we?”
Looking around, we discovered we’d just left a black leather-lined dark room and come out into a cavernous staging area. Chains and leather straps hung from the lofty ceiling almost to the black rubber floor. Occasional swathes of padded red leather grew from the floor, forming couches and screens, some of which were adorned with full length, smoked glass mirrors. A liberal amount of dubious looking moist patches could be seen on most surfaces and everything had a disturbing sheen to it. To top it off, the whole environment smelled of poppers, sweat and spunk.*
Then, from behind a bestrapped and padlocked chair-like contraption, a ginger dwarf** appeared.
“What the fuck do you lot want?” it demanded in an effeminate Scottish/Yorkshire hybrid accent.
“We just want to go home” Dinah piped up after the initial shock of the sight of the dwarf had worn off.
“Home?” the stunted poof sneered. “You’ll have to work to pay your way home. Although, you’ll have to be kitted out in uniforms” and he pointed his stubby index finger at each of us in turn, a flash of light emanating from the nicotine stained digit to envelope us.
“Stalker” he declared, pointing at me first. My clothes became replaced by a dull black coverall complete with hood, dark glasses and what appeared to be a tranquiliser gun that, on closer inspection, fired rohypnol-tipped darts.

"Well! How very dare you" I declared. "I don't know where you'd get the idea I might be a little more attentive than etiquette deems polite?" I was very careful not to meet Tim's eyes as I said that.

"Pole dancer" he said next, sneering at me and pointing at Dinah, who was suddenly wearing little more than a couple of tassles and a handkerchief. In her hands she held a shiny eight foot metal pole, the end of which appeared to dispense lube.
"Hoody." T-Bird was transformed into a purple hoody-wearing malcontent, who, when she pulled up the hood, blended in with the shadows until she was practically invisible.
"Warlock." 'Petra became adorned with a green velvet cloak and pointy hat with enough dark eye make-up to plaster a wall.
"Cavalier." Dora groaned under the weight of battered and rusty armour made out of an old Vauxhall. She dropped the shield that was formed out of the car's bonnet*** with a dull clang.
"And" the dwarf sniggered, "Page 3 Stunna!" The last of our party's clothes disappeared and were replaced with- Well, they were barely replaced.

* Gasp * Dinah covered her mouth.

"Oh..." 'Petra exclaimed.

"My..." T-Bird continued.

"Gods!" I finished.

The four of us stood gaping and drooling at Tim in his barely-there 'three belts' costume. Dora looked on in mild interest, filing her nails on the rusty wheel arch that covered her hip.
Tim opened his mouth to protest at his attire, but became distracted at his reflection in a nearby mirror.

"Rawr!" he growled, he and his reflection admiring himself before remembering that he had an enrapt audience. "Ahem... I mean, I'm not wearing this outrageous outfit! It's clearly meant for a female physique." He glanced in T-Bird's direction then frowned in concentration as he attempted to 'rearrange' himself without spilling out of the blatantly cramped lower belt.

T-Bird eyed him suspiciously before pulling at her hoody. "While I like the comfort of this, it's hardly very fetching. That's not to say I'm gonna swap, Tim."

"Well, I'm not wearing this, either!" Dinah snapped.

Then Dora cut in. "At least you look female. I look like an ancient Transformer."

'Petra sighed in frustration. "Can't you magic up some different clothes, IDV? This green makes me look washed out."

"Oh, no" I replied. "You're the warlock - You do it. I quite like my 'Milk Tray Man' gear, thankyouverymuch!"

"Well, what do I do?"

"Oh, I don't know. Pull something out of your hat?" I said somewhat exasperated.

Sighing even more heavily, 'Petra removed his hat and pondered for a short while as everyone else resumed arguing about who should wear what, and where that nasty little ginger dwarf had gone.

"Ooh, I know!" he suddenly said. He waved his hand over the open end of the upside-down hat and chanted as he pulled out a spell:
"Magic hat, end this strop. Make everyone's costumes swap!"

* poof *

After the puff of pink smoke and the small shower of glitter had cleared, we regarded each other with almost as much astonishment as the first time we had an unplanned costume change.

Dora was now the 'Page 3 Stunna' - "Oh, great" she remarked sarcastically.

Dinah looked a lot happier in the hoody. Somewhat unsurprisingly, I was the warlock, sans hat, which 'Petra was still holding as he bore the weight of the cavalier armour and shield. And Tim, in a role-reversal, was now the stalker. But instead of paying attention to me, was lasciviously eyeing up a pole-holding and betassled T-Bird.

"Aaaaaiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

A piercing shriek rent the air, freezing us in place and chilling us to the bone. It was 'Petra.

"It's not a hat" he wailed, holding it betwixt finger and thumb. "It's not a hat!"
"What?"

"Look!" he hissed, holding it up for all to see. "It... It's... The 'Shorts!"

He was right. It wasn't a hat he was holding. It was The Freakin' Green Elf Shorts, stiff after multitudes of blogger excretions had soaked in then dried over the years.
Tim sneered in disgust as 'Petra flung them away, not noticing a door opening right where he'd thrown them.

"What's all this shouting?" A strident voice bellowed. "This is a local dungeon for local people. There's nothing for you here-" Whoever it was that had come through the door complaining, was abruptly cut off as The 'Shorts landed squarely in her face.

"Oops!" 'Petra said.

A taloned hand reached up and pulled The 'Shorts from its head, exposing a murderous expression beneath a severe fringe.

"Look out!" T-Bird yelled as a vicious tongue lashed out from the demon-woman.

'Petra instinctively raised his shield-baring arm, inexpertly but effectively, preventing the tongue from making contact with us.
As the demon-woman screeched with rage, another door opened, unnoticed. Five over made-up faces peered around it.

"Cooeee!" they cried in unison just as the tongue lashed out once more.

This time 'Petra accidently deflected the tongue towards the newly opened door, where it slapped across the five faces, rasping great clods of trowelled on make-up from them. Their friendly demeanour changed instantly.

Five burly and befrocked bodies burst through the door heading straight for the source of the evil tongue. All but one opened their mouths, the other lifted its skirts and turned to face its arse at the demon-woman, then a stream of varying particles spewed forth from all five.
The first projected a jet of ice; the second brought forth a blast of molten metal; the third**** burped up a cloud of noxious gases; the fourth projectile vomitted a suspicious looking thick, sticky white liquid; and the fifth did an enormous duvet-raising fart from underneath his voluminous skirts.

"I'll get you my pretties" the demon-woman screamed. "And your little-" she stopped to regard the hissing Peecat who'd emerged from the depths of T-Bird's handbag, "cat, too!" And with that, she ran off to escape the five drag queens who set off after her, faster than six inch stilettos should allow.

"Who were they?!" T-Bird gasped.

"That" the small ginger poof answered, reappearing from a hidden trapdoor looking decidedly moist and dishevelled, "was M'jer, a force of evil. The monstrous drag queens are TiaMaria, a failed all-drag girl group. And I am Dungeon Slav- I mean, Master, your guide in the realm of Dungeons and Drag Queens!"





* The British definition, not the Australian or American.
** Piggy, obviously, but I couldn't access his blog to link to him when I transcribed this.
*** Or hood, to you Americans.
**** Tazzy. See explanation after **Piggy.

2009: A review

Well, here we are again at the end of the year, having to put up with another of Witchface & The Host's hurried attempts at squeezing a years worth of events into a few thousand words and some hastily put together pictures.
They'll never do it, you know. I don't know how many times I've nagged and cajoled to put this thing together throughout the year when events are fresh in our mind.
You're right. I don't know why we even bother - They never take any bloody notice!
I've a good mind to-
Ssssshhhhhhh! Sssshhhhhhhhh! Here they come now!

Oh, thanks, you two. What a welcome.
Yes, bugger off!

* huff *
* double huff *

Bloody SubCs...
Right. Where were we? Ah, yes. This year's Coven Awards and blog review.

Hmmph! The blog review shouldn't take long. Lazy articles...

We are still here, you know?!
As before, I'll do the blog review and The Host will present the awards. Anyway, without further ado, I bring you:

January: We took a look back over The Cusp at our many adventures; Tim turned from stalkee to stalker; and an ill wind caused arial nanny-based chaos to Norwich's skies.

February: We inadvertantly shared some of our 'reference' books with you; Tim was once again the object of our affections in The Valentines Day Mascara; and we prepared to move out of Castle DeVice.

March: Ah, our birthday. Celebrated over The Cusp as per usual!



The frontrunners for this award - The most engaging film - were: Star Trek and District 9. I really wanted District 9 to get the gong over Star Trek because it hooked me almost from the get-go (although it did take a little while to get used to the documentary-style beginning). However, the rather lengthy fight/chase scene at the end stretched my belief to snapping point as the singleminded and relentless Colonel Koobus Venter wasn't killed in the constant hail of weapons fire.

Star Trek, on the other hand, was at once polished, emotional (especially George Kirk's sacrifice as Captain of the USS Kelvin and the beam out of the Vulcan elders), entertaining, voyeuristic (Hello Kirk in underpants! - More on that later) and gripping. Much as I wanted to be slightly dismissive of this reboot, I found that I couldn't. And still can't - I'm watching it tonight with SP (who says it's his favourite film EVER! - And this from someone who'd never watched any Star Trek before)!


The most disappointing film was easily Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. How could it have failed so epically when the first film was so awesome? What happened?
Next time, let's have less gung-ho giant robot fights where one can't tell what's going on, fewer new transformers, absolutely no John Turturro (or however his name is spelled), and a lot fewer clothes on Josh Duhamel - Rawr!


April: Mini-Tim; and the first book read this year.

May: The attack of Beaky's clone; and we were almost haunted by Yvette Fielding.

June: A Hellishly wrong number; and we became reconnected with the intermaweb in New Castle DeVice.



I think I've watched more TV this year than the last two years put together - Well, it seems like it, anway. You see, SP has the TV on almost all the live-long day (when he's not at work, of course)! However, I have managed to stick to my usual discerning viewing, so the nominees for my favourite TV show are: Ugly Betty (yay!), Being Human, True Blood and Pushing Daisies.
The winner, for the second year in a row (narrowly beating Being Human), is Pushing Daisies!



The biggest disappointment is an easy one. After waiting what seemed like an eternity for the TV movie of Dead Like Me, it was finally shown in the UK (albeit on Virgin pay-per-view) five years after the series ended.
I wish I hadn't bothered.
The worst things weren't the lack of Rube, or the different Daisy. No. The most disappointing thing was the way the characters seemed two dimensional, as if they'd forgotten who they were and were just going through the motions. Whose motions, I don't know, but they sure weren't happy about it.



An odd one this as it's not something I rediscovered, but something that SP did. This rediscovery leaves me free to blog while he's absorbed by dreadful 80s/90s hair and fashion (and I say 'fashion' in the loosest sense of the word), godawful cheap prizes (did anyone ever win that crappy Daewoo Nubira estate?), craptacular answers from stunned looking contestants (were they tasered to get them into the studio?) and Les Dennis's 'please-kill-me' style of presenting (plus his outrageous racism).

What is this rediscovery, I hear you ask? None other than Family Fortunes!



July: Ah, a month of gardening - Both domestic and exotic; plus we brought you the real Mary Poppins.

August: A glimpse of SP in the jungle; (hardly) inexplicable filth at MJ's; a blogger-birthday (yes, you, Dinah!); and a visit from an incubus.

September: An odious sea-cow; a book update; our holiday in poofiest Yorkshire (complete with sensational pictures of yours truly in a hot tub!); and another, rather moist, blogger birthday.



I'm not going to do a full-on review for this category because I've already posted book reviews here, here and here (call me lazy if you will). Suffice it to say that the winner is: The Never Ending Sacrifice, by Una McCormack (the first linked 'here').


This was a very difficult category from which to chose a winner. Nominees included Royksopp, Lady Gaga, Escala and Kelly Rowland amongst others. In the end, I couldn't decide between Sebastien Tellier's La Ritournelle (which featured in an episode of Ugly Betty this year) and Freemasons feat. Sophie Ellis-Bextor Heatbreak (make me a dancer), so they both win.




Move over Trekmovie.com and Memory Alpha. Io9 gets my vote!


October: Continuing CyberPete's Over-The-Cusp birthday celebrations; a very understated fourth blogiversary; miniature crop-circles (for navigation purposes only); and Hallowe'en!

November: Tim's birthday over The Cusp; and wishing for a new Broom.

December: Hell Hound: Attack of the Moom!; Joey! Eeeeeeuuuuuuwwwwwwwnnnnnngggrrrh!" (fx: tongue behind lip, drool, contort); and (really-not-that-rude) Consequences.



Ooh! Who to choose? Seann William Scott, Aidan Turner, Connor Trinneer, Chris Pine or Zachary Quinto?

Hmmm... I think today I'll have Aidan.

Or maybe Eddie Cibrian?

Clockwise from top left: Chris Pine, Tim, Jared Padalecki and Ryan Kwanten.


What? I can have all of them, can't I?

Phew! After all those men from the last two categories, I'm flummoxed as to who to choose for the Hottest Sci-Figure winner. It goes without saying that I would choose Connor Trinneer again if I could, but, as far as I know, he hasn't got his kit off in the name of sci-fi this year.
Perhaps I'll just go for Chris Pine?

Except that I can't find a good enough picture of his buffness.

Why don't you tell me who your hottest Sci-Figure is?


Right. That's it. All that remains is to thank you all for tuning in for another, somewhat lacklustre, year here. I know I said I'd try and do better last year, but it obviously didn't happen, did it. I really will try harder in 2010.
And finally, thank you all for keeping us amused, entertained, shocked and enthralled this year.

Happy New Year!