cello answers itself like a plucked harp, like explosive drums, like birds, laughing Hyenas

Last night, I was insipired.

By RENT.

By The West Wing.

And by Douglas Adams.

Thanks to this, I now have a new pet: goblinpaladin. *waves*

And fear not; I will eventually get around to composing that interpretive dance, to be accompanied by a solo finger cymbal (yes yes, not a pair), in your honor. And it shall be magnificent.

In other news, I have been neglecting to tell you all of the Saga of the Television. Months ago, during that big big lightning storm, our television blew a fuse and had been on the fritz since. It would randomly switch itself off, and the AV ports were fried (so no DVDs!!). Last week, dad sent it in to get repaired. We got it back Friday, but the AV ports are still half dead (it's certainly not one of those more advanced forms of death, though) - DVDs will play, but with the previous channel's audio. And the little transmitter thingy that was to allow us to watch Foxtel on the other side of the room (the cords wouldn't reach after we re-arranger everything) wouldn't work at all. So we've sent it back in to get repaired, and properly this time.

I hope my laptop comes back before the television does. I would seriously appreciate using my OWN computer after a week of being a parasite on everyone else's. And swapping hard drives around is just painful. :(

Oh oh OH! And I think Hot Cute Guy, the Ashfield Hotel Bartender that Kurtis embarrassed me in front of... twice, goes to USYD. At least, I hope it was him... :S

;)