#some mothers do ave em

[mishalogic]

Outnumbered | It Wasn't Karen | Christmas Special 2009

Oh yes, "some mothers do ave em" in a cute kind of way ... Misha

[loveboatinsanity]

[busterkeatonsociety]

#TalkieTuesday “Some Mothers Do ‘Ave ‘Em” stars, Michael Crawford & Michelle Dotrice, reminisce on their time on the BBC classic sitcom.  And you’ll likely be unsurprised by one of the influences for the show.

[zippocreed501]

[ameliathornromance]

Rain, Rain, Rain - Orc Romantic Short Story

There was a growl in the back of your throat as you attempted to clear it. God’s be damned, you had fallen ill. It was nothing serious, a cold from being exposed to the elements. All thanks to your Orc partner. He was the one who had insisted on you both travelling through the storm, so that the two of you could reach the encampment shared by his tribe.

The two of you had gone out on a walk that day, since the weather promised a warm and sunny day. As you listened to your partner’s stories of Orc history, thunder grumbled above you and by the time afternoon became evening, the Heavens had opened. “You’ll be fine.” He’d called to you over the thunder. “You’re one of us now, you won’t fall ill in my care.”

But alas, you had a fever by the time you arrived back. “Won’t fall ill my arse.” You snuggled into your animal skin covers, deeper and further away from your tent entrance, left open to give you fresh air.

Candle light flickered gently next to you, giving you enough light to see your surroundings. The storm had passed the night before, but left you bed ridden and shivering.

It was only now that you could fully recognise what was going on around you: It was night, judging from the darkened sky outside, the camp seemed to bustle with it’s usual fervour. You could hear the familiar grunts and growls of the harsh Orc mother tongue.

A part of you wondered where your boyfriend had gotten to. You hadn’t seen him since your fever had broken and the tribes healer had given him a well deserved tongue lashing. You had only been able to pick up bits and pieces of their conversation, “you know humans are not like us!” Lashed the old Orc at your boyfriend. Something about ‘you foolish oaf’ and ‘not knowing enough about human bodies’ and, ‘not doing enough to take care of something as fragile as a human being.’

You sniffled, pouted. You hadn’t seen the tribe healer much either. He only came by to bring you water and some stale bread. “Good for the stomach when you are unwell.” He said as he handed you the food. “The big fool has lumbered off somewhere. He’ll be back.” He assured you at your worried expression.

You could not fault your partners eagerness to return to camp; There are worse things than a storm, outside the camp. Due to poor visibility and no way of hearing approaching horses thanks to the thunder and ever pelting rain. Human beings are vicious and sometimes more monstrous than Orcs can be. If they had caught the two of you together, they would have done God knows what to the both of you. Being ill and confined to bed was better than being hung, drawn and quartered by Orc Hunters or a mob of angry villagers. Even in your cloudy state, you knew that this, was definitely not the worst outcome (even if it did sting to admit it.)

The tent flaps parted and revealed your boyfriend. He was covered head to toe in mud and dirt, a brown potato sack thrown over his shoulder, book clutched in his other free hand that hung down by his side. He huffed and panted as he laid eyes on you. “Oh.” He said, surprised. “You’re awake.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him as he set down the sack and thumped the book on the table in the corner of the room, “so I did all that for nothing.”

“Huh?” You asked, nasally.

“I went out to go and get some ‘erbs and that,” your Orc had his back to you as he unloaded the sack, different bundles of roots, branches and nettles of plants on the table, “so you could get better quicker… but I guess I won’t be needin’ ‘em now, will I?” He grumbled.

Your heart twinged at his words. Forcing yourself up, you gazed up at his dirty form. “Thank you for trying.” You sniffled.

He rushed over to you as you tried to sit up further, “no, don’t say that. I should be apologisin’. Shouldn’t ‘ave dragged you through that storm.”

You shook your head. “’ts better than the alternatives.” You sniffled again, “here, if you hand me the book, we could make something to help.”

“No, I’ll get the old geezer to do it,” your Orc partners weight caused the bed to dip below his weight as he sat next to you. “You should rest.” He cupped your head with his hand. His whole palm was as big as your head. His eyes fell to the ground in front of him, “I made the mess, so I should fix it.”

You pursed your lips. “After you’ve washed,” you started, “do you want to come and get into bed with me and you can finish that story you started yesterday?”

Your Orc boyfriend was silent for a moment, before a smile crept onto his lips. “Yeah, sounds like a plan.” Packing up the supplies he bought, picking up the book. He cast a short look back at you, “I’ll give these to the ol’ geezer and bring back somethin’ that’ll make you feel better. Then I’ll finish the story I started yesterday, yeah?” And with one last, toothy grin, he left.

You smiled to yourself. He probably spent the whole day looking for that book and those herbs, and it looks like it wasn’t easy for him to do, judging from the state of him. You shuddered to think where he could have gotten that book from and hoped it wasn’t from the Healer’s tent – there would be more trouble if he had done that.

You snuggled up into the animal skins again, a warm fuzziness taking over you. How lucky you are to have such a lovely Orc partner. Before you knew it, he’d come back, a cup of strange liquid in hand, clean and in a fresh set of clothes and settled himself beside you to finish his story.

[twasjane]

As a horror enjoyer and long time Discworld fan, I often think about what Terry Pratchett would have written if he'd taken to horror instead of science fiction and fantasy. He always seemed a bit ambivalent on the genre- he had a few that he had seen/liked well enough (he's mostly referenced Universal horror, he never liked Hammer apparently 🤷🏼‍♀️ and a few more comedy leaning movies like Young Frankenstein and American Werewolf in London).

But then I realised- he DID write horror.

Reaper Man's plot has a malevolent Mall and a gang of plucky monsters.

Phantom of the Opera, but leaning into the fact the Phantom was also in Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em.

Carpe Jugulum has one of the most disturbing vampire villain plots I've read outside of, like, Salem's Lot.

The Fifth Elephant is a horror novel with a police procedural and political thriller slapped on top.

The elves, the villains in Night Watch, I Shall Wear Midnight, the Summoning Dark from Thud, entire sections of Snuff...

He knew how to write horror adjacent stuff.

And the fact he also made it funny didn't take away from it either.

I often wonder what Terry Pratchett but horror would be.... But then realise that it's literally just Terry Pratchett.

I mean, if you can think of another author who does horror like this please let me know!

[all-action-all-picture]

The Savage Sword of Conan No. 53, June 1980. Cover by Earl Norem. Black and white magazine from Curtis Magazines / Marvel that ran from 1974 to 1995. There was an episode of Some Mother's Do 'Ave 'Em where Frank Spencer covers up a whole in a hotel floor (which he had just made) with a carpet. Conan has no doubt fallen victim to some similar behaviour here.

[odetolithium]

Spooky - Snapetober Day 31 🎃

Thestrals have always been a constant in Severus’s life. Over the years, he grows to appreciate them.

Prompts by @superfallingstars

This has been such a joy to post Severus one shots every day. Thank you so so much for your love and support with my writing 🖤

October 1971

“What do you feed in the forest?” asked Severus, tripping over his robes to catch up with Hagrid’s long strides. He pointed to the bleeding sack slung over the man’s broad shoulders; eyes wide with intrigue. The boy’s wild imagination conjured images of ravenous beasts; three-headed wolves, giant scorpions with twin tails, heads and tails in numbers beyond normal.

“Blood-thirsty beasts,” whispered Hagrid, winking at the curious boy. “One day I’ll tell yeh, lad.” The forest loomed in front of Severus.

“Can you not show me, Hagrid?” replied Severus, eager to see more of the magical world. He wanted to learn everything he could, even vicious critters in the forest. Hagrid patted him, roughly, on his head and bid him farewell.

“’Ave a good day, Severus. If those boys give yeh any trouble, yeh can tell ‘em Hagrid is friends wi’ some terrifyin’ creatures,” he laughed heartily, vanishing into the thick of trees. He heard the distant flap of wings and feet trampling the undergrowth. Severus smiled, scurrying back up the hill towards the castle.

September 1976

“- I suppose, I was going to take potions...”

“The old bastard probably won’t even notice if you turn up for his N.E.W.T class...”

“Snape can always tutor you,” Mulciber nudged Severus. “He’s probably got some dark shit to teach you, eh Snape?” Severus, disinterested in the conversation, turned to Avery and nodded curtly. Avery licked his lips and rubbed his large hands together.

The O.W.L results were all the sixth years were discussing on the train. The groans of disappointment and boasting of top grades followed them to the carriages. Severus neither groaned nor boasted, the markings of letters on parchment meant little to him now. No amount of O grades could fill the absence of his mother.

“Hey, Snape! This one’s empty-” shouted Avery, clambering into the carriage after Mulciber. Severus stopped, his eyes tracking the tall horse-like creature he’d never seen before. A thestral. Mouth slightly open, Severus took a measured step back. Illustrations in textbooks never prepared him for the real thing. Blank eyes bulged in large sockets, keenly sensing the fear and hesitation. Severus recoiled as the dragon-like head turned slowly to face him. The thin black coat of skin was stretched taught across protruding bones. It was a disgusting beast.

“What is he staring at?”

“Snape, come on -”

Mumbling incoherently, Severus joins his fellow sixth years for the journey to the castle. They watched him warily, unsure how to react to his silence. In the noiseless void, Severus was being eaten alive, poisoned by the stingers of guilt. He eyed the sinister beast, a gift from hell itself, its hooves threatening to crush his chest as it stomped forwards dragging Severus behind.

September 1981

“Professor! Yeh never said...” Hagrid bustled towards Severus, there was a grin spread across his face, but it was suddenly lost within his beard.  “Since when?” he asked, reaching the young professor by the clearing. His cupped hand was full of scraps of red meat, a small thestral was nibbling in his palm.

“It was just before my sixth year,” muttered Severus. “It’s been about five years.”

“While yeh were at Hogwarts?” gasped Hagrid, dropping the large sack of oozing meats to the forest floor. The small thestral seemed more interested in these offerings and Severus watched it trot away, small noises of excitement escaping its throat.

“My mother,” he started, “I saw my mother die.” Clearing his throat, he tossed the leftovers to the herd; watching the youngest struggle on their bandy legs.  

“How come... did yeh tell anyone, lad?”

Severus shook his head, his eyes watching the graceful creatures like shadows.

“It was my fault... I didn’t help her,” he whispered, the bandy-legged babies perked up and whipped their growing manes. Mist billowed from their snouts as they wobbled over. Severus stroked the spine of the most eager, the backs of his fingers brushing against the cool coat. “I’ll live with that guilt forever.”

July 1995

“It is the most beautiful magic,” beamed Dumbledore, glittering eyes tracing the form of his patronus around his office. “I’ve always suggested adding it to the curriculum, but the Minister doesn’t take my advice these days.” Smiling, Dumbledore’s face was illuminated by the glow of the phoenix. He lifted his wand and broke the charm. Severus grasped his own wand, reciting the incantation in his head. The headmaster inclined his head, an invitation for Severus to begin.

“A happy memory, Severus.”

“Expecto Patronum!”

A faint wisp, and then nothing. Severus swore and started to pace the small office; it was merely three paces with his strides.

“I think we need a different memory,” frowned Dumbledore, adjusting the glasses perched on his nose. Absent-mindedly, the old man rubbed at the break in his bridge. Severus stopped pacing and turned to face him.

“Unfortunately, they are hard to come by,” sneered Severus, leaning over the desk. He sighed, forcing himself to relive childhood memories to find happiness beyond the misery.

“I am surprised I can even get this far,” he groaned, sinking closer to the desk. His nose almost touching the surface.

“I told you, Severus. Casting a patronus charm has little to do with light and dark. Voldemort himself could cast one if he so desired.”

“Why am I failing then?”

“You have lived through some horrors. You have experienced some truly awful things. You have denied yourself happiness for years.” The blue twinkled in his eyes, like it had caught the lasting glow of a patronus. Dumbledore swept over to the defeated professor, taking hold of his shoulders. “However, you are a highly skilled occulmens. The very best that I’ve ever come across, Severus. Make a memory.”

Severus spent the next hour torturing himself with a memory he would never live. He strayed away from his mother as the subject, deeming her too involved in his pain and that was similar for Hogwarts as well. He planted the memory, allowed the emotion to overwhelm him and spoke the incantation. The vision of Lily, alive and free, was enough to produce a powerful patronus. A tall, blinding creature streaked past before charging around the office. Its usual, sinister appearance was replaced by a beautiful, ethereal glow. It was a pure white thestral.

“The Order will enjoy this,” scoffed Severus. “A former death-eater with a patronus of death.”

“On the contrary, Severus. It is extremely rare to be attached to a thestral, it shows unwavering loyalty and a kind heart. Despite the tragedies in your past, you have a great understanding of kindness,” Dumbledore explained, watching Severus’s eyes catch the flight of his patronus.

[reyreadersblog]

REBECCA LAUGHLIN RANT:

I don't get the Rebecca Laughlin hate at all, i mean i get it if you're still on the first book, but if you have finished the whole trilogy and you still hate her then you don't understand her character at all. She started off..not really good and trustworthy, she made mistakes, BUT Bex had a great character development through the series, you have to understand how deep and overlooked her trauma is, like ms.girl NEVER in her life ever had what she wanted, it was always about what Emily wanted, she was never visible, Rebecca had always hid behind Emily's back (not in a good way) and had been overshadowed by her manipulative, b*tch sister, her parents never appreciated her or paid attention to her, they were like "Em has a heart condition, treat her right and do whatever she wants" TF??

Remember that one time Bex said something like "Emily liked me, as long as i did what she wanted and didn't get in her way"...and even tho Emily was such a terrible sister to her, she still loved her, still cared about her, still blamed herself for Emily's death.

Her own mother chose a girl with her dead daughter's face over her💀.

Also are we forgetting the fact that she begged Thea to not cover up for Emily? And Thea still did. Like the girl she loved the most still chose her sister over her.

And as if that wasn't enough trauma Eve appears in the final book, just imagine the pain she'd feel seeing girl with her dead sister's face.

The fact that she forgave Thea for her behavour says how anazing of a person she is.

She may have done some minor mistakes, but overall she is one of the underrated and sweet character. And she's, minus Max and Xander, closest person to a friend Ave ever had.

[mishalogic]

Oh Yes

Some Mothers do ave em! ... kid's world

[catatonicsx]

heyy i was wondering about the songs

ohhh where to even begin. since you mentioned being interested in milex theories, i'll go through a couple of my fav songs with a focus on talking about milex.

you probably couldn't see for the lights, but you were staring straight at me

this song has long been known (with somewhat beyond reasonable doubt) to be about the lead singer of The Little Flames, of which miles was coincidentally the guitarist of. there's not much to reallyyy prove that it's about miles and not the female lead singer, the latter which he's basically all but admitted to, other than their relationship that was fostered soon after the song was written (which was around 2005).

i also learned via a reddit thread that the Frank Spencer mentioned is a character in a British sitcom called Some Mothers Do 'Av 'Em who is very accident prone. (x) so, that's interesting!

do i personally think it's about miles? no, not particuarily. but i think it's interesting that the love interest of this song is so closely aligned with miles......

what's interesting is that put your dukes up, john is a Little Flames cover. there's not much i want to analyze in this song considering it's not an arctic monkeys one, technically, i do think it's cool and that it's an important step in both the arctic monkey's sound development and alex's and miles' relationship.

now i am of the sort who believe a lot of humbug songs are about miles-- especially coming off the recording of the age of the understatement in 2008. i'm not sure how much of their relationship shifted or was furthered during this time (my tinhatting only goes so far as fantasy and lyric analysis) but i DO believe alex was at least thinking of miles during the writing of humbug in the american desert.

dangerous animals

there is not much evidence in this specific song that lends me to believe it's about miles, i mean it is chock full of she/her pronouns (but when has that Ever stopped anyone's theorizing...) and the reason this song stands out to me is not so much of incriminating lyrics more so it just...evokes some nice images for me.

i am not entirely sure how sensual alex meant to portray his struggles with sleep in this song but Lordy! they sure are. "been fighting with my sheets / and nearly crying in my sleep" ohhh so he's writhing in bed clutching at his sheets with a sheen of tears in his eyes... okay... hm... okay (gets so hard i die)

dangerous animals is a song about being in love with a girl (?) who is unattainable for some reason but still delights in torturing poor, poor alex who follows her (?) like a dog willing to do whatever humiliating thing she (?) asks of him/forces him to do. "sharpen the heel of your boot / and you press it to my chest and you make me wheeze / then to my knees you do promote me." alex is willing and even eager to humiliate himself for this girl (?) and sees his submission as an act of bettering himself, something to be proud of (see "promote me") (gets so hard i die)

BUT GET THIS. and i am pulling in some outside sources here, but to complete my tinhatting, i feel it necessary to mention that the song "too little too late" by miles kane off coup de grace mentions the line "pirouetting in the dark" which i do take as a reference to this song. so maybe miles knows something we don't about dangerous animals. maybe HE is the dangerous animal. it's not much, so i guess we'll never know....

potion approaching

while we're on the topic of stupid theories. i think matt said somewhere this one is a love song to alex's car? i would kill to find the interview again, but the gist was alex had this car which he loved driving and the band joked that potion approaching was actually a ballad about imagining his car as a girl.

but actually: "i've got this ego mechanic / she's always trying to give me vitamins." the vitamins in question are, of course, drugs, and they work as an "ego mechanic" in that they make alex more fun to be around/better at writing (a theme mentioned in My Propeller because that song is not unfortunately about a certain organ).

WAIT I JUST MADE A BREAKTHROUGH IN REAL TIME. i think that the "she" and the "you" are DIFFERENT PEOPLE. i usually assume that the pronouns are used interchangeably but i think i have just discovered something Huge.

the first verse (is about doing drugs, yes, but focus) mentions a "you" that the speaker falls into a kiss ("tide took me to your mouth") and also maybe further than a kiss ("and then swept me back down to your palms") with and the speaker goes "oohhh. okay this is all i want to do, this is the person i want to be with" (the meaning of "yours is the only ocean")

but THEN in the second verse the "she" is mentioned, the "ego mechanic." okay. maybe vitamins aren't drugs but like Normal Pills ... to make him stop wanting this other person ... my evidence here is "if i could be someone else for a week / i'd spend it chasing after you / cause she's not shattering my attitude."

the speaker .. wants to be someone else .. but currently he's confined by the "she" character who is "shattering [his] attitude"

"no matter how she folds the potion / yours is the only ocean"

hey. wait. it makes perfect sense that the "she" is trying to control his desire somehow, but the "you" is still the only person he cares for.

hm. this could be milex if you thought about it.

the end bit: "oh, but if we're gonna escape though / we really ought to think it through / would you like me to build you a go-kart?" has long been laughed at for its seeming randomness but actually it's NOT random. the speaker wants to escape with the "you" because the situation with the "she" is so controlling ... and UNLIKE in dangerous animals, he doesn't want to be controlled, he wants to be free on a go-kart with his lover.

could be milex. you know. if you wanted to think abt it that way.

fire and the thud

aside from being possibly my favorite arctic monkeys song, i believe this one, too, is about miles.

THE VERY FIRST LINES describe a welcome chance to the status quo: "you showed me my tomorrow / beside a box of matches / a welcome threatening stir." and given that this is a love song (you'll see) i think this is describing a welcome end to one relationship and a welcome start of another; a stirring up of affairs. romantic.

"my hopes of being stolen / might just ring true" again, speaker wants his lover to burn the boring status quo future, he wants to be stolen away.

"depends who you prefer" it seems like both alex and his lover are in relationships, alex is wondering if his lover (miles, lol) will drop his girl to be with him. if alex too drops his girl. seems they're at an impasse...

immediately after, we get "if it's true you're gonna run away / tell me where, i'll meet you there" more running away, like in potion approaching. these two lovers have to be somewhere away from "prying eyes" (will mention more later).

next two stanzas (?) are questioning if the speaker's lover feels the same way he does.

and GODD. GOD. some of the greatest lines ever written "the day after you stole my heart / everything i touched told me / it would be better shared with you." GODDDDD. i don't even have any analysis just ruminate on how beautiful this is for a moment please.

the rest of this verse just describes various BEAUTIFUL haunting gorgeous incredible details about the speaker's pining. the soup, the books, the mark (a bruise that takes a while to heal, perhaps? sounds sexy).

"will the teasing of the fire / be followed by the thud?" alex wonders if this intense pining/foreplay of emotions will come to a concrete conclusion. will they be in a relationship, or will they be doomed to dance around each other, never quite saying how truly infatuated they feel?

"in the jostling crowd / you're not allowed to tell the truth" okay my tinhat is firmly ON for this one. why wouldn't the truth of this relationship be allowed to be disclosed to the public? unless... it's gay. (pride month gasps)

seriously, i can't imagine the hold up about this clear infatuation becoming public unless there was a particularly unsanitary connotation about the type of relationship it was.

"and the photo booth's a liar" this is a JUMP and i admit that. it's a LEAP and a half. but it really seems like whatever front alex is putting up in his current relationship to save face is actually untrue. he's a "liar" for pretending to be happy in his relationship.

"and there's a sharpened explanation / but there's no screaming reason to require" a bit funny! when you think about it. it seems like alex Could explain himself but is choosing not to, which is ironic because it feels like the whole song is describing and putting into great detail the "sharpened explanation" of his infatuation with his lover and therefore his lies to his current relationship.

"i'd like to poke them in their prying eyes / with things they'd never see / if it smacked them in the temples." like a lot of tbhc and, honestly, a lot of arctic monkeys songs in general, i think the vague "them" is simply the public sticking their nose into alex's relationships and songs (much like i am currently doing). there's an explanation, but people just Wouldn't Get It if they heard it. (i feel like i might get it, alex! i'm with you thus far!). again, could tie back to the gayness, if you were so inclined to believe so, because that is a harder thing to explain to the public then, say, a happy hetero relationship. maybe. if you were so inclined.

jump to golden trunks

"when true love takes a grip, it leaves you without a choice." i think this pits "true love" against some other ideal in which it then ruins. it seems "true love" is a problem, something unplanned, uncalled for, unwanted. hurts to think about.

i will drive myself INSANE talking about this song. every time i listen to it i pull my tinfoil tighter around my little cone hat. anyone talking about politics or donald trump are sooo off center. the point of the song, the emotion is all Right There.

first off, it's not about american politics. alex says (among other hilarity) "The whole song there is about a conversation between myself and someone that I’m falling for. That’s not the leader of the free world in golden trunks, by the way. The character in the song, who I’m singing to, that’s something from her imagination, that may have come out of her sense of humour." (yes i took this from genius x) and i know wrestling is Big and Many People Like Wrestling but the leader of the free world in golden trunks is such. a fucking. miles thing. to say.

again, a link that is really so slim but if you think about it too long your chest will start to hurt: "and in response to what you whispered in my ear" GODD these fools are always whispering in each other's ear. what was that quote? can't for the life of me find a credible link to it, but allegedly:

nme: what sort of things do you say to each other onstage?

alex: dark, twisted and very private things.

miles: you'd think we were freaks if you knew some of the things we talk about onstage. we talk about weird things that don't really make sense to anyone else.

again, allegedly, this is from 2008. and we all KNOW their habit of whispering to each other at all times on stage, maybe at some point (i'd hazard in 2016) there came the bizarre statement of "fantasizing" about each other..

then there are three words in this song that break my freaking heart: "in the daytime."

and FUCKKK ME that hurts. because if you take it in the context of the "fantasy" it really just reads like alex has these enduring fantasies, bred from whispers in his ears, and they happen to him in daytime and they're real and he can't ignore them. go listen to golden trunks. listen to it RIGHT NOW and PAY ATTENTION to the guttural HURT that exists in these three words. and it's never been played live. i'm sure some of that has to do with the instruments/synth-y stuff going on with it.. but GOD those lyrics are insane and they hurt me.

it's just describing an affair that never came to be, or never came to exist in the full extent that alex wishes it would've. even if it's not about miles, this song still hurts me.

and again, there's the fire and the thud -esque "the public would never understand the truth of these feelings":

"bendable figures with a fresh new pack of lies / summat else to publicize / i'm sure you've heard about enough."

alex is SICK of the fakeness and lies of his profession and, as the song implies, his personal relationships. the song assumes that who alex is singing to can relate to these struggles. he wishes for the simpleness of his fantasy, which is completely vague and unspecified, but which seems to be the solution of all his heartache and the problem of "true love's grip."

could be milex. what do i know. lol. pulls the tinfoil tighter and sets it carefully on top of my head.

-

okay. in truth, i have a lot more. i didn't even GET to the jeweler's hands which i also believe is about miles. and there's a big long post that i want to make about there'd better be a mirrorball, which i will probably make separately. there's also a separate post i have Got to make about batphone and why i believe it's such an incredible song. lmk if those sound cool to you as well.

i hope this was somewhat of what you were looking for! i tend to ramble, but thank you for the opportunity of letting me talk. let me know if you have any questions (because Believe Me i would like to continue talking about this it's like my fav topic).

FEEL FREE TO REQUEST SPECIFIC SONGS !! LIKE IF THERE WAS ANY SPECIFIC SONG YOU WANTED TO TALK ABOUT !! SIMPLY PUT IN AN ASK IF YOU WANT AND I WILL TALK ABOUT IT WITH YOU !! IF YOU WANT !!

[loveboatinsanity]

[aloysiavirgata]

AV prompts, fuck yeah! How about “nail polish.”

Emily’s tongue pokes between her teeth, her face scrunched with the focus of a surgeon performing a tricky maneuver. On her head is a purple tiara.

“Mulder!” she says, with all of her mother’s exasperation. “You’re too wiggly.”

“Sorry,” he says for the third time. “I’m new at this.”

Emily considers his hands with an artisan’s eye. The bright purple polish is mostly confined to his nails. “They look pretty,” she says, putting a glitter top coat on his thumb.

“Thanks. You’re doing a great job. So how does it feel to be seven?”

“I’m not seven YET, it’s just my PARTY.”

“Okay, fair. How does it feel to be having a seventh birthday party?”

Emily pauses in her work. “I got this tiara for it. And a purple dress. And purple pajamas for the sleepover part. And my mom got so much snacks! You’re coming right?”

“Got to, you did such a good job on my nails that I want to show off.”

Emily looks proud, returning to the glitter polish. “Are you spending the night too?”

“No,” her mother says, coming into the kitchen. “He isn’t. Girls-only sleepover, Em.”

Mulder makes a sad face. “I guess not.”

“Aww,” Emily says, finishing his manicure. “But he makes good pancakes.”

“I make fine pancakes. Go put your clean clothes away like I asked.”

Emily scowls as she leaves the kitchen.

Mulder blows on his nails to dry them. “You’re so mean,” he says. “Excluding me from the party right in front of my face.”

Scully flicks him in the ear. “I promise we’ll talk to her about it soon. I was thinking spring break, give her some time to process the idea. She’s just been through so much upheaval.”

“I know,” Mulder says. “She’s a great kid, Scully.”

She smiles. “Yeah.”

He leans over to kiss her.

“I KNEW it!” Emily crows from the doorway.

[scotianostra]

Happy Birthday to the bubbly bonnie Ashley Jensen born in Annan on August 11th 1969.

Raised single handedly by her mother Margaret, Ashley knew from an early age she wanted to be an actress. She grew up glued to British sitcoms, especially Some Mothers Do ‘Ave ‘Em with Michael Crawford as Frank Spencer. And after her mum saved up for her to attend the National Youth Theatre in London, the 16-year-old returned home determined to pursue a career on the stage.

Ashley went on to study drama at Queen Margaret University in Edinburgh before fulfilling her dream by landing roles treading the boards in London. From theatre she moved into TV, ealy roles included wee parts in City Lights and Rab C Nesbit , and a 1991 film called Tickets for the Zoo, which was set in my hometown Edinburgh, she the started racking up credits in popular dramas such as The Bill, Casualty, Clocking Off and EastEnders. Other Scottsih roles were in Taggart and Rebus.

It was her part as Ricky Gervais’ hapless sidekick in the popular Extras that was to be Ashley’s breakthrough role, though. As well as making her a household name in Britain it also gave her the opportunity to appear alongside Hollywood heavyweights such as Kate Winslet, Samuel L Jackson and Orlando Bloom, all of whom made guest appearances. The part also brought official recognition when she was named both best actress and best newcomer at the 2005 British Comedy awards - accolades which she celebrated in typical low-key fashion with a cod sandwich from a roadside chip van.

Ashley saw fame in the US follow playing the straight-talking Christina in the sitcom Ugly Betty, leading her to relocate to LA and renting a house in the Hollywood Hills. While the role was originally meant to be American, the casting agents fell in love with her Scottish accent and it stayed.

Ashley may be a star in the US now but her feet are firmly on the ground I found this quote from her “Even now I think I might never work again. I’m still a bit like that. I probably always will be, “This from one of her best friends who has a chippy in Annan speaks volumes "She has her head screwed on and won’t be changed by the star treatment.” Recalling a visit to her LA home soon after Ashley relocated, he says: “We were holding hands and jumping up and down. She was shouting, 'Can you believe it? What am I doing here?’.” Ashley’s acting career has seen in her in many shows, my faves include, Catastrophe with fellow Scot Mark Bonnar, Trust Me, with Jodie Whittaker, which was set in Edinburgh, and again with Ricky Gervais in Afterlife, as well as the comedy drama Agatha Raisin, where she plays the title role, a cotswolds-based PR guru turned amateur sleuth.

Tragedy struck for Ashley in 2017 when she discovered her husband, Terence Beesley body at the wheel of his car in the garage at their Somerset home. The couple, who met in 1999 while they were both involved in a London theatre production of King Lear, were married for ten years. A verdict of suicide was later ruled on at the coroners court.

As well as her work as an actress Ashley has narrated a couple of shows recently, Inside The Balmoral: Scotland's Finest Hotel, about the hotel that takes pride of place at number I Princes Street and The Airport: Back in the Skies about London Heathrow.

Ashley took over in the lesd role in Shetland, I think she did well, filling the huge boots of Dougie Hensall was a big ask, two seasons are planned the first coming soon. I like the lass and read in an interview she said that her greatest achievement was; 'That my son is kind and loves David Bowie.'

[earhartsease]

reading the wikipedia article on the discworld novel Maskerade (1995) and they floor us with this casual mention in the character list

Walter Plinge, a parody of Michael Crawford

for those of you who have no idea who Michael Crawford is, he's an english actor, comedian, and singer who, yes, played the titular character in the Phantom of the Opera musical

but to those of us of a Certain Age he was also famous in the UK for playing a hapless gawky loser in a beret in a classic 70s sitcom called Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em and the two juxterposed characters are exactly Walter Plinge and it's perfect

[lycanthrology]

being raised by 60 year olds while hanging with young people makes me feel like the rosetta stone ill be explaining the some mothers do ave em reference in that arctic monkeys song to my friends then text my mum like yes kendrick did the black panther soundtrack