Wilfred Mott is an anagram of Time Lord FTW.

 If this turns out to be relevant, let the record show I fucking called it.

I'll write a post about the whole Yule season basically as soon as I can, but for now...

SING BACK KNIGHTMARE '09
Never Gonna Win The Cup

Featuring six SBK singers plus Russell 'Ruzl' Odoni as Treguard!

Download here in lovely MP3 format... and while you're at it, why not grab Do They Know It's Quest Mess? and All I Want Is Knightmare To View?

Hours of fun for the Knightmare-related fan.

Merry Christmas, Everyone!

"He's like a fresh Spring morning isn't he? ... A sweet meadow", he smiles as he's crouched on the floor, where he always is, and scoops up one of his kittens into his arms, kissing and cooing. His dark hair is still ruggedly wild despite having just been cut, and the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow is forming on his chiseled jaw. Despite myself sterotyping, he definitely does not look like the kind of man who would behave like this. Being around him is becoming difficult; despite our strong friendship, he is ever more intimidating.

Beside him I am a doll; I am younger than him, shorter than him, and I seem more naive, despite being four years older. Good god I look so much younger...
Beside him I am like glass; reflecting his every joke and pleasing attribute and throwing it joyfully around myself like confetti.

He treated me to an evening of seafood dinner he made himself; posh aphrodisiacs, muscles, salmon.. I had never tried these things before in my life. Despite being an impossibly fussy eater who never likes trying new food, that night I ate like a wolf and had to apologise for the completely uncivilized way I ate it.
He is a master of alcholic elixirs; he had created a gin-based cocktail in a large sharing glass which at first looked like something a scientist would use. He named it Oceane. I assumed it was for the taste and colour, but the intoxication was as powerful as though we had been swept out to sea.

I enjoy his company for it's absolute and complete sense of being FREE.
Free, mad, and spontaneous.

I have wanted in so long.

Of the original SuperTed cartoons, by far the darkest is SuperTed Meets Father Christmas. There are three reasons:

1. Near the beginning, Texas Pete is robbing a house dressed as Father Christmas. A little boy comes downstairs and mistakes him for the real Father Christmas. Irritated by the intrusion, Tex picks the boy up and throws him down on the floor. The boy goes back upstairs in tears. This is the only time that Texas Pete attacks a child.

2. When SuperTed and Spotty investigate, they end up mistaking the real Father Christmas for the false present-stealing one. SuperTed upbraids and tussles with him, and attempts to pull off what he believes is a fake beard. He rips hair right out of Father Christmas' face, leaving him a quaking old man, begging this psychotic teddy bear to leave him alone. SuperTed does not apologise.

3. SuperTed ends up fighting Texas Pete on a moving sleigh. At one point, Texas Pete tries to dislodge SuperTed by whipping him across the paws. He cries out in pain.

All this is slightly compensated for by the moment when Skeleton climbs down a chimney: his body falls, leaving his skull hanging in mid-air saying, "Alas, poor Yorick..."

Anonymous comment thingy.

Kind of like Secret Santa, in a way that is entirely (but not quite) unlike Secret Santa.