I've got to get to bed. I just turned my PC to blog something to keep the fingers flowing but - well - you can't just turn the PC on to do one thing. Logging on, I find myself distracted by a handful of wonderous things around the web and interact with them. And then I get MSNed by everyone on my list. And then I get a killer idea, directly inspired from...

Well, what I was originally going to blog about. After getting it recommended by a worrying number of people as "my sort of thing", I finally got around to watching Ginger Snaps, a werewolf-as-menstration-metaphor film which was - dodgy final act aside - pretty much my sort of thing. And then I turn on BBC, only to be confronted by Carrie, another excellent teenage-girl-menstrating-horror-film. Which is, indeed, my sort of thing.

If someone says they don't like Carrie, it immediately makes me suspicious. It's a pretty good warning sign that the person in question is - to avoid dodging the issue - totally evil. Carrie presses buttons if you were there at the sharp end at school, or were close to people who were. If you don't get it, it implies that you were at the blunt end - the handle, holding the knife, pushing it in and twisting.

(If you're wondering, I was one of the people close to people who were. I've got a nasty white knight streak a mile long.)

Meanwhile, all this thinking about the classic Geek vs Jock American High School Dichotomy, and wandering on my usual comparison between the numbers of Suicides related to Bullying and the number of people killed when outsiders go on a gun-crazy rampage and... well, an idea formed, which I've been writing up rather than doing this.

Bed now. The concubine really doesn't know how beautiful she is when she's asleep. No-one ever really realises that about themselves.