Are you here to see Joss Whedon, asked the cloakroom gal. I resrained the fangirl flail and answered with a demure yes, but, oh my, there were some serious fangirl vapours going on.

This is the something I had on that had me blowing off invites and duty and even the annual Fifties Fair. This was it. Mr Whedon. At the Opea House.

I don't know why I was so excited, but I was. Maybe because Joss Whedon, and his works, have been so important to me, have gotten under my skin and become of part of me. I simply had to see the great man and pay homage.
( more: sunday afternoon )

Oh dear. I'm terribly sorry. I'd intended to spend all weekend posting nonsense and crackpot theories, but reality intruded. And the world breathes a sigh of relief, spared at least foty eight hours from my inane flu addled babblings (and we're particularly flu addled today and non functioning today)
( news: Gene reveals mammoth coat colour )