(no subject)

britney, oh britney. why must i find you so hot

when, clearly,
in order to appear stable, sensible, grown-up, independent, picky, profound, and secure in my heterosexuality,
among other things,

i think i really ought to think that you're not.

(nice pix in the swedish elle, with talk about the smoking, the lattes, and the word freakin'; whimper, and welcome to kingdom superficiality.)

But, in other news, I was translating an out-of-context excerpt from a Swedish detective novel for class this morning and had to go googling for the word 'mordbibel' (um. murder-bible?), which, shame! shame, my detective-novel-reading self failed to recognize; now I still don't know what the word means, but I do know that if you try to read the Polistidningen pages without a valid user ID and password at hand, they're going to grab you and not let you go, you naughty criminal. And this, indeed, is what counts as positive excitement in my life.

So how about yours?

And, really, should I start reading FPF (outside my own mailbox) again? Wouldn't that be, like, totally wacky?