I think that last fic was the first time I've written sex - on or offscreen - that was in an actual bed. Huh. (If you've ever slept in one, you'll know that campbeds totally don't count. My mum owned a campbed, and if you did anything radical on it, like sitting up, it collapsed. You had to get into it already horizontal, and stay horizontal until you got out again. Not easy when you're in a sleeping bag.)

Not to worry: the next one will be a return to the usual uncomfortable situations. If it'll just stop fading to black, anyhow.

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An email conversation I've just been having with A:

A: Perhaps we'll take us out early tomorrow for an eclair. I think, considering the week you've had, you deserve it.

Me: I think chocolate mug brownies will be the downfall of our civilization. About time, if you ask me. Whee! I like for to go out for eclairs with you. And and and come back, and have them with some tea.

A: Tea. Ooh, tea. Never has there been a more perfect mate for a sweet cake. Actually, I wonder what came first. Tea or cake?

Me: Well, I'm thinking probably cake. Because of history, you see.

A: Wasn't it King Alfred that burnt the cakes? In 1066, I believe. And Emperor Ming discovered tea the previous century.

Me: But King Alfred burning the cakes was not the start of cakes. Cakes were first invented by George and Hengist Ogg, when they dropped a pterodactyl egg into the flour they'd just discovered how to mill. And the Mayans, of course, were the first to discover chocolate icing.

A: Hee. Apparently, the primordal soup contained traces of active yeast.

Me: Of course. Primordial soup dumplings.

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Lalala, Friday. I watched 'Hustle' yesterday, and when I decided to Wiki it, to find out what happened to Stacie and Danny (I miiiiiiiiiiss them), I learned that Ash's nickname is "Three Socks". Apparently he acquired it after his first trip to the showers while in prison. I have no more information than that, but a whole collection of mental images.