aarghworkworkbusy

[freckles_and_doubt]

Can't talk, orienting.

In possibly related news, last night I dreamed that the world was unexpectedly infested with huge swarms of giant, six-foot flying ants, which had spontaneously generated in the depths of various mountain ranges and come rampaging to the surface. I had to flee the carnage with jo&stv and the EL, in the approved disaster-movie fashion, which for some reason entailed eating a lot of BBQ ribs in dodgy small-town diners. I woke up in the middle of a detailed and surprisingly reasonable attempt to work out exactly how one would deploy the army against the deeply subterranean ant queens who were presumably producing the swarms.

Right! On with another 12-hour day.

Comments

[strawberryfrog.livejournal.com]

So. campus is expectedly infested with huge swarms of six-foot walking freshers?

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

Nothing unexpected about it, we've been braced for it for months.

One of my OLs is threatening to wear fairy wings tomorrow, it being her birthday. I may gibber and twitch a bit.

[strawberryfrog.livejournal.com]

Indeed, expectedly.

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

Bother, comes of reading too fast because I'm busy being a headless chicken. See "aarghworkworkbusy", above.

Indeed, expectedly.

Ants

[quadrireme.blogspot.com (from livejournal.com)]

This sounds suspiciously like the plot of 'Reign of Fire', one of the worst films I've ever seen. My advice in the event of such an apocalypse would be to grow potatoes, rather than tomatoes. Tomatoes alone are not very nourishing.

Re: Ants

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

Oh, dear. While I have to agree with you on its lack of actual merit, I thoroughly enjoyed Reign of Fire. Its complete absence of viable plot logic was entertainingly balanced by cool dragons and a surprisingly good cast. Also, muscular men with their shirts off. I do take your point on the tomatoes, though. Presumably they burn more cinematically, or something.

The flying ant incursion wasn't as wholesale as the dragons. At the point where my alarm clock woke me up it was still early in the invasion, people were curiously unpanicked and the death toll sat, with the wierd precision of dreams, at 34.