(no subject)

So it turns out that the only thing better than going to Denny's at two-thirty on your night off (sky deep blue, half moon glowing through a thin cover of cloud, stars bright, cold enough to wear your new coat but not freezing, just crisp) and getting your favorite meal in the world (Ultimate Omelette minus mushrooms, peppers, and tomatoes, rye toast, french fries instead of hash browns, Diet Coke) and sitting there for an hour reading Busted on your laptop, is coming home and crawling into bed with two comforters (one wasn't quite enough, and I miss the old one from my old bed, and it was right there in the linen closet, and why the hell not?), and finishing it. Mmmmm. Was I saying something about slash not being the best most happiest thing in the world? Sorry, I was quite obviously mistaken.

Which is to say, thanks, Bluster, and byob, (Shades of Ray was also mighty great), and whoever else was at #discourse making helpful suggestions. My faith is restored. I'm going to sleep now.