Meh

I want to write, but lack of sleep means my brain is like 'what are words right now?' and reading Mervin's Twilight sporking makes me want to rant about blood, which I do far too much (for the record? It takes 10 days for your blood cells to break down in your body and for your spleen to make new ones. Bella had several transfusions (oh god, my brain hurt finding that word) and still smells amazing two days later ... Bullshit, Meyer).

So not fair, I won't get another chance to write until next Tuesday. My life is full of bullshit right now.

Still, mum and me made my dad watch We Need To Talk About Kevin last night, which is my favourite book (I took my mum to see it in the cinema and she laughed when Eva broke Kevin's arm ... innappropriate much, Mumsey?) and it's the first film in a while my dad has stayed awake for. He commented heavily, and I think he thought I was pretty blase about it ("he's a psychopath!" "he's completely mental!" "he shot his dad and sister?" "why didn't he kill the mother?" "because you don't shoot the audience.") but I have read that book a few times, and seen that film more than once, and I fucking love Ezra Miller and his over-sized head just for how well he did Kevin.