To be honest, it's a while since I've seen my own skin. So cold it has been of late that I've had to keep on a few layers of clothes even when in my accursed slumber. I mean, yes, of course I've washed, but I usually shower with my eyes tightly scrunched shut anyway to stop all sorts of unpleasant internal machinations. And also because I have been humiliated once by the phrase "No more tears" and I will never be fooled again. NEVER. AGAIN. I'd do a thousand-yard stare at this point but it still stings when I de-focus. Thanks for that, Johnsons and Johnsons!
Anyway, so yes, it's cold. But trying to think of a nice snowy thing to share just led to thousands of Christmassy thoughts, and it's too early for Christmas clips. Luckily, something else happened today apart from the artic monkeying, which was that the World Cup way in the spacesuit-hoverboard-soylent green-future times year of 2018 went to Qatar. Or was that 2022? God knows. Who cares? It was an excuse for 20,000 gags about mucus to be unleashed along the Twit/Fassbook axis, in which my lone nerdish voice squealed out "Qatarmari Damacy!"
Check out this clip of one of the most insane, addictive, compulsively satisying games, like, evah. Plus, massive J-pop soundtrack win. What could be more advent-y than the screams of a thousand citizens as you roll up their apartment block?
Hmm. I'm not being so great at this advent thing.
You rolled up the MOON!
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