rants and ramblings of utter randomness

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Macbeth, Act V, Scene V



Hello from the night shift, wherein I make twice as much money (if it's a double shift) to be twice as bored as I am on the evening shift.

Entertain me? You know the drill. Drabbles, picspam (fannish and otherwise), amusing anecdotes, meta, tell me about your day, rec me a fic or a movie or a book or something. *asks nicely*


( Anyway, so, okay, the play )

As for my wet!room, it ended up being a brief, minor leak, and I actually managed to sleep in my own bed after a fashion. I got to bed at oh-dark-thirty, but when don't I?


And now, a silly meme, because I can:

( geek, dork, or nerd test )

Fannish epistolary meme-thing in next post, which may or may not be upcoming. I know, y'all can't wait.

P.S. After seeing a high school production of the Scottish Play, I really do recommend that elementary schools never try it, no matter how much Mark, Susan, or Bob might try and convince you otherwise. So mote it be. *nods*