regrettable lack of taste

Someone let loose a really bad fantasy artist on Cape Town's sky this evening. It's all purple and pink, with clouds that are either fluffy, wispy or feathery, with occasional gilding. The light is gold. I swear, at any moment a herd of pearly white unicorns are going to come dancing through. Probably with hearts on their bottoms. Apart from the fact that anyone wantonly perpetrating the above skyscape in cold blood would be taken out back of the artist's convention and shot, it's stunningly beautiful.

In other news, last night I dreamed I was extensively kissing Dominic Monaghan. (Which is better than Ian McKellan, but still not a patch on Scroob, who apparently rates a nocturnal George Clooney). For some reason, ridiculous quantities of spit were involved. Possibly all this Lost is rotting my brain.