A wonderful ham sandwich

Spoiled for HBP, spoiled as fuck. *PRIMAL SCREAM*

To add to my pain, I was all excited about getting the book half-price and possibly earlier than others, as I am getting it directly from the distributor, cause my company shares the same distributor as Bloomsbury. Well, I am getting it half-price, but it's going to arrive some time next week. *PRIMAL SCREAM*

Thank God I'm going to Echo and the Bunnymen at Guildford tomorrow, and then to some camping-out party, cause I'd go beserk otherwise. As lj will be nothing but an excited heap of spoilery posts over the weekend I'll be avoiding it, I think. I hate you all. *PRIMAL SCREAM*

In other news, yes, Ewan McGregor is gorgeous in the flesh, can sing adequately, and dance very well, but Guys and Dolls would have been a much better experience if I didn't have a seat right at the edge of the Grand circle, clutching the rail, waves of vertigo rolling over me every time I took a breath. Me and Ewan are not meant to be, my extreme phobia of heights has torn us apart. The Star Wars comics I've been reading the whole week are all more or less shite, apart from the one based on Timothy Zahn's trilogy, but the manga version of SW, with Luke looking like your typical pissed-off uke boy, is rather adorable. I don't understand why on earth Qui-Gon/Obi-wan fics have to have so much spanking, and when on earth did they sneakily add Hayden Christensen as a fuzzy ghost at the end of Return of the Jedi? I was watching it the other day, and my eyes popped out of my skull. On the topic of Tim Burton, the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory trailer looks as if made of plastic and polyester, with Johnny Depp walking the fine line between quirky and idiotic, but on the other hand I'm dying to see Corpse Bride, and out of some strange impulse I spent the whole evening yesterday looking for Ichabod Crane/Headless Horseman fics. The weather is hot and humid and I'm a crumbling edifice of migraines. On the topic of alcopops, I will stick with Smirnoff Ice, nothing is as vile as the berry-flavored Reef, I drank one at lunchtime, and after several sessions of teeth-brushing, the bubblegum taste still lingers. Though I never managed to finish Arthur Koestler's The Yogi and the Commissar, I'm currently halfway through The Sleepwalkers and enjoying it immensely, though at this moment, I'd really prefer HBP instead. It's too hot to be reading about Copernicus. *PRIMAL SCREAM*

And for more run-on-sentences, stay tuned for next week.