I would not, could not...

Appropos of nothing, I would hate to be the rear guy in a 4-man bobsled. First, there's the open back (Murphy's Law says people will fall out from time-to-time). Second, that's the guy who has to keep his head tucked down entirely, for aerodynamics—so while the sled is hurtling down the chute, he doesn't even get visual warnings. It's all out-of-control speeding toward deaaaath!

*ahem*

In recreational news, we watched The Corpse Bride this weekend. Oddly good, though I had to keep turning away in parts. The legs on the black widow spider were just too much for me—it was like a cattle prod to my arachnophobia, again and again. Ugh.

Now that I am no longer allowed to work at home, I have to do my bike-path biking on Sundays. The path is horribly crowded then (lots of people standing/walking in the bike lanes, too), though the temperature yesterday was lovely. Afterward, I put on some work clothes to tackle one of the many neglected areas of our huge yard. Holy crap—all the talk about our mosquito population getting out of control was no joke! My efforts seemed to awaken a lot more of them, too. But since it was the end of the weekend, I kept going and enacted the "La-la-la" method of denial, hoping the mosquitoes hated the lingering odor of sunblock. It was an itchy evening, but no permanent damage, I think.

Annnnnd, this weekend nevcolleil wrote me a terrific Die Hard 4 John/Matt story in response to a prompt I left at comment_fic. I'm hoping she posts it up for real, but if not, it's here. Please read it and leave her some love!

Also, please don't let me forget that Hannibal is starting up again. And that The Cosmos is imminent. Trying to keep track of the random starting schedules of cable and network shows these days is like battling ADD.