- I have my first three hour exam tomorrow. Wish me luck? Uhm o.O
- I just finished the final section of notes for said exam - namely, the sections covering International Law and its relationship with Australian domestic law, Human Rights law and immigration detention, and Indigenous claims to special rights (land rights, mostly.) I sat back and stared at it for a while. Then I labelled it 'Australia: Reasons Why We Fail' in big red letters. Ugh.
- I think my cousin knows me too well. He's a comic book fanatic, and when I visited him the other day he offered to let me borrow copious amounts of Deadpool and Cable ("Cable and I, we have this don't ask, don't tell thing going on..." "Seeing as he has a lot of my brain, I figured I could take his pancreas. It's only a little pancreas.") and also this other one called the Authority. It involves
Superman a solar-powered super-strong flying dude and Batman a black leather cowl-wearing vigilante who likes to kill shit spending a lot of time kissing, getting married, kissing some more, and adopting the spirit of the 21st century. Her name is Jenny.
- Just as I was beginning to get addicted to Q&A it finishes for the year. Nevermind. The lack of a fistfight between Joe Hockey and David Marr (who put those two next to each other? Whoever it is, I think I love them) was made up for by the
ridiculous awesome rap at the end.
- Someone I know offered to lend me the new Twilight soundtrack. My instinctive reaction of AHH TWILIGHT KILL IT, KILL IT WITH FIRE was stopped short by the realisation that it had exclusive content from the Killers, Thom Yorke and the Editors, and a Muse remix. Whut. How. Why. Damn you, Brandon Flowers, damn you very much. You make me abandon my principles. Specifically my anti-sparkling-dickwad-vampires-and-eyeball-destroying-mary-sue-romance principles.
Here, have some Russian dancers mucking about on the beach during the Ballet Russes Australian tour in 1939.
For... no particular reason. Oh shut up, you.