Busy changing your board name as often as you changed your underwear.

Shut it.

Because I'm Looking Backwards Guy today, I share unto you...an Anya.

*******

Angel: "Quickening, But Not The Highlander Kind Of Quickening"

Angelus: I combed my hair!
Darla: You're getting soft.
Holtz: Whereas I'm a lot like Rambo.
Angelus: But I'm bad! Look, I'm biting Holtz's wife. See? Eeeeeevil!
Darla: Eh.

Angel: Darla, can you believe it? A beach ball! We are going to have a beachball!
Darla: Stake me. Why won't you stake me?

Lilah: Does this blackmail video make me look fat?
Mail Clerk: Gotta go! Bye!
Lilah: God, I hate you.
Gavin Park: Yes. I hate you as well. We must now bicker.
Lilah: Must we?
Gavin Park: We must.
Lilah: Well, if we must.

Holtz: I want Angelus.
Demon: Get in line.
Holtz: No, I want to kill him. I really want to kill him. Like, totally dead.
Demon: So, are you saying you want to kill him?

Loud Toothpaste Commercial: Wake up, Recapper, wake up! I have important messages about oral hygiene!
Recapper: Guh! Where was I?

Wesley: Since when am I a gynecologist?
Fred: Obstetrician. You are now an obstetrician.
Wesley: Okay, fine. It's a boy. Just don't ask me how I know.
Angel: A boy? Hmm.
Vampire Fundamentalists: Hmm.
Wolfram & Hart: Hmm.
Evil White Ninja: Hmm.
Chorus of Baddies: Okay. Hand over the Damien.
Angel: Actually, I'm thinking of calling him Scott Evil. I mean, no! Stop it or I'm getting very martial!
Baddies: Oh, rats.

Angel: Road trip?
MoG: Road trip! Road trip!
Darla: Yay.
Holtz: Angelus? Could you clear your schedule? I'm about to kill you.
Angel: Oh, rats.

I just looked at the hockey score. Whoah.

God I loved [our] Anya. I read Bureau about Zoe and it made me angry, so I stopped.

By the by, for those who were asking about the music for the figure skating programs, if you go to www.nbcolympics.com, you can click on the figure skating tab, choose one of the disciplines and get video of every.single.performance. What's neat is that on the onscreen banners, they give the name of the athletes, plus the music they're skating to, and also bonus, no announcers.

t /PSA

Power came back on at around 6:30am. I think we are on the same circuit or whatever of that major intersection of Essex and Boston so it's a high priority. The City of Salem says there are still around 4200 people without power.

Whew. Got lucky on my side of town then. We had one flicker during one of the hellacious gusting moments, but they never stayed off. I'll probably go home to find out the power's out now.

Here's another Anya. One of my favorites. (We should compile these.)

******

Angel: Lullaby

Holtz: Boys? String him up!
Angel: I protest. This gismo looks silly.
Holtz: Wait till you see the nipple clamps.

Darla: Nobody likes me.
Gunn: You keep spilling yucky fluids.
Darla: Fine. I'm leaving. Zoom! Hey, it's just like that car commercial.

Holtz: Young lady? It's past your bedtime.
Sarah: This sucks.
Holtz: In 18th century England, we burn unruly children.
Sarah: How barbaric. I wish I could trash you on Oprah.

Angel: Ow.
Holtz: Yeah, baby.
Lilah: Why don't you just kill him?
Holtz: Isn't it obvious?
Angel: Gotta go! Bye!
Holtz: Bitch.

Angel: Where is my lover and our highly sought-after, incredibly significant love fetus? And my car?
MoG: Uhm…
Angel: Man, I was so right to fire you.

Darla: Soul. Baby. Love. But not. Fuck!
Angel: Are you still speaking English?
Darla: I want the baby. But I don't want the baby.
Angel: Oh. I see.

Holtz: I can't tell if I'm good or evil.
Demon: Existential therapy is $120 an hour.
Holtz: Better shop around.

MoG: Your kid's toast. You're shit out of luck.
Angel: Story of my life.
Holtz: Check out the recurring fiery building.
Angel: Bad building! Bad!
Darla: Crap.
Angel: Wah!
Darla: Eh. I was getting bored anyway.
Angel: Wah!
Darla: Bye! (poof)
Angel: Wah!
Baby: Wah!
Fred: Cool!
Baby: Hello? Is no one going to pick me up?
Angel: I suppose. Here's a leather coat. Happy birthday!
Baby: So what's my last name?
Angel: Wouldn’t you like to know.

Oh, and Nora - sorry to hear about the ick and pain. I hope it clears up soon.

WP columnist Tracee Johnson on Johnny Weir

The system cuts both ways. It certainly doesn't reward artistic performers such as American Johnny Weir. Weir is graceful and fluid, his programs are clean and his music complements his choreography instead of serving as background Muzak. (His flamboyance also may work against him, which is ridiculous. Of course rhinestones sparkle a little brighter when Weir wears them. They know they are home.)

One last Anya. Because it's Friday. And I'm waiting for this video file to finish converting. (I'm really liking this Handbrake program. Way better and faster than the MPEG Streamclip I'd been using).

******

Angel: "Dad"

Baby: I have a bad feeling about this.
Angel: Is it because I'm staggeringly inept?
MoG: Yeah.
Baby: Wah!
Intruder: Hi.
MoG: Die!
Angel: Who was that?
Baby: Social Services.

Wolframites: Oooh, baby. Look at its toesie-woesies!
GGG: The entire universe is insane. This calls for a pink tie.

Baby: Could you stop holding me like a small stack of firewood?
Angel: Wittle baby-poo!
Baby: No. I refuse to do the diaper scene. This is a travesty!
Angel: I'm 20 times your size. Go on and stop me.
Baby: I! Already! Need! Therapy!
Angel: Googly woogly boo!
Baby: Go woog yourself! Wah!
Angel: Googly woogly GRRRRRR!
Baby: Sweet Jesus. I'll be very quiet.

Proto-Faith: I'm tragic.
Holtz: I'm more tragic.

Proto-Faith: No, I'm more tragic.
Holtz: No, I'm more tragic.
Proto-Faith: We could do this all day.
Holtz: Yes. Yes, we could.

Cordy: You are gonna be a martyr about this baby thing, aren't you?
Angel: A "Duh!" is not out of place here.

Entire World: We urgently need this baby.
Angel: Ooh, wittle villains wants the wee baaaaby!
Entire World: Can you stop doing that?
Angel: Ooh, wittle villains can't handle a wittle baby talk!
Entire World: This is creepy. Bye!
Angel: We beat the siwwy wittle villains, didn't we? Yes, we did! Yes, we did!
Baby: Yeah. Know what? I'm napping for the next 20 years.