Two solid enough hours worth it for Reggie’s big scene. And the Reba cover.
snaps
Update/202410131611 :: it went about as well as expected - though I didn’t manage to free up storage space for shelves shelves shelves.
Slightly dreading the afternoon today: have to go through some my grandfather's old pictures to find some good ones for The Bank's 125th anniversary calendar. He was an inveterate snapshot taker, so it shouldn't be too hard to find something to sate the celebrants; no, it's more a matter of not looking forward to looking back.
On the plus side, however, by doing this, I should manage to clear space from the upstairs room and make way for the next set of storage shelves to move up there. Shelves, shelves, shelves.
But before any of that, Sunday Mexican food and tankard of beer consumption. Liquid courage to pour through the past to get to my shelves.
Another stellar issue of one of the best series out there. Heart, intelligence, humor, action, family: always at the top of the to-read stack.
bald
Though I shaved my hair off last year, when I fucked up and forgot to put on the clipper guard during my usual self-inflicted fade cut and ended up liking it, it's only been in the last few weeks (after considering letting it grow back but remembering that there are few things in the world that I loathe more than getting a haircut) that I actually got myself one of those head-shaving electric razors, and went the full monty, the full Luthor. And I like it.
I'd avoided going full Luthor not out of a fear of doing it, but out of a total lack of interest in the work required to shave my head with a razor (and out of an ignorance about the existence of such things as dedicated head shavers, miracles of miracles / wonders never cease, back in my day etc etc). Now, it takes a grand total of three minutes before I'm ready to take on the accursed Kryptonian.
Also can't discount that now that the family that were most vain about their hair – my grandfather and my mother – and by extension, mine, are dead, I don't have to think about what they think about it (though it would've been more of a "how much will I have to hear, You have such beautiful hair" sort of thing) and thus, bzzzz, far balder than the day I was born.
Maybe it's a whole "dawn of a new era" -type deal though it's more likely one of those "I hated having hair and I hated my hair and I was sick of my hair and fuck it the end" -type deals though I do confess to a sudden urge to buy a porkpie hat and inform everyone within earshot and beyond that I'm the one who knocks.
If the rest of the Absolute line lives up to the promise of what Snyder and Dragotta deliver here, we’re in for a treat. Haven’t been this excited by something from DC in years.
