“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard

Monday, September 22, 2003

So the big-shit emmys happened. No, I don't know who won ANYTHING, and I don't fucking care. The only reason I know they happened at all is the fact that my little sister insisted on watching the red carpet show hosted, as ever, by Joan Rivers.

Who decided that Joan Rivers was funny and how much would it cost to have them dug up and violated? Joan is best known for her annoying daughter and for the jokes she used to do about how much plastic sugery people have had. She seems to have loosened up on that now that Cher is the only human being alive that's had more than she has.

Someone bring me the head of Joan Rivers! Just remember, you have to polish your shield to a mirror finish and stun her with her own reflection before you can hack it off.

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