We have been indulging in an excess of geekery tonight.

Tom found Thor on DVD for only ten bucks at Sam's Club, and Hulk (the version being used for Avengers continuity) for nearly as cheap somewhere else.

Guess what we did most of this afternoon and evening. :D

Cutting in case I'm not the only one so woefully far behind on these movies. I am caffeinated and in the middle of a severe outbreak of fangirling, so it's kinda raw and stream of consciousness.( Read more... )

Then after that we watched the "season finale" of The Finder, which is de facto the series finale since it just got cancelled. After only one season of awesomeness.

Damn you Fox.

Though not as thoroughly as my husband wishes to damn you, which I will get to in a moment.

We spent several minutes shaking our fists at the ceiling and cursing Fox for the note on which they ended it, although it IS better than what happened to Alien Nation before the tv movie (ten years later, Tom tells me - I don't remember the series finale very well, nor that there even WAS a movie) or what happened to Sam in Quantum Leap.

(My personal canon denies the existence of the damnable final moments of the QL final episode, along with the existence of midichlorians and any Earthsea books beyond the trilogy. )

Then Tom went to bed, as it will be my turn to sleep in tomorrow. :D

Then I went on Facbeook to write a capslock of rage complaint to my friends. (Not a rant on the FB page for The Finder. I am not calm enough to write a useful complaint to them just at present.)

Then Tom lumbered back downstairs, in search of a glass of water - and to attempt to persuade me to join his proposed letter writing campaign. Not to Fox, but to the Pope. To get the Fox execs responsible for cancelling The Finder excommunicated.

My cooperation was deemed vital because I am Catholic and would therefore know what the Vatican equivalent of Provost Marshall in charge of excommunication requests would be.

I explained to my atheist husband that I didn't know what on earth a Provost Marshall is, and in any event the only person I can say completely and unequivocally is deserving of eternity in Hell, which is what Tom assumes is the automatic result of excommunication, is Hitler. (I believe what actually happens is probably more complex, and also doesn't work on non-Catholics, as they aren't members of the club to begin with.) Cancelling The Finder pisses me off mightily, but Tom does that on a regular basis, and I certainly don't want HIM going to Hell. Sending stupid tv execs there seems a trifle extreme, even to a fangirl like me.

He called me a 'Finder-caust denier". I made him go back to bed.

***

I get to sleep in tomorrow, barring further Zodling poopocalypses. (Jack this time, while we were trying to watch Thor - and in poor Mark's room no less. We are buckling down on getting that boy toilet-trained the week after school's out and Tom's parents come visit. Oy vey.)

Tom bought me roses, and tomorrow is making bacon and eggs with fresh kaiser rolls with which to make breakfast sammiches. I get to see Avengers at 1:15 - already bought tickets online. And we're getting stuffed-crust pizza for the adults' dinner. \o/