Quicknotes.

Found out what was smelling of Miskatonic University. The bag with the last of the French Vanilla whole coffee beans[1] from Victoria had come open.

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Apparently interests can't be more than four words long. Who knew?

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Picked up several books at the Ex Libris upstairs sale, including a new copy of Danse Macabre (mine's tattery) and Ira Levin's Sliver.

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Serger was being slightly difficult about sewing with silk thread, but it's cooperating now. I suspect it might just have been a rough patch on the spool.

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Unfortunately, the Mayfair was apparently unable to get The Host in, and have replaced it with Hot Fuzz, which is not quite as interesting a prospect.
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[1] Yes, I'm a heathen. Also, I drink instant.

Brain all over the place.

I am suddenly imagining an alternate history in which Burke and Hare[1] are great heroes for having saved the world from the zombie menace.

There would probably be a Saturday morning cartoon featuring their exploits.

(Tangentially, mrsoles posted a link to I Sell The Dead in unhallowed_met, but I swear the B&H idea came to mind before looking at the site. Also, his The Resurrectionist sounds interesting.)

(Would you believe Firefox doesn't think "resurrectionist" is a word? I am shocked and saddened.)
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[1] Proactive resurrectionists, who decided that waiting around for someone to die and then digging him up was too much like work, and skipping the "waiting" and "digging" parts.

Hmh.

I thought about putting up a link when I saw this. And I didn't (figured it'd already been done, then it was already done, etcetera).

Then I thought about putting it up anyway. But I couldn't figure a non-boring way to do it that wouldn't invoke some mighty wave of eye-rolling, since the catchphrase that sums it up for me has gotten a little touchier over the last decade.

Then I thought really, this is cool enough that if no-one watches it or clicks on it or even reads this post, it's still worth mentioning.

War.
War never changes.