Today

I shall be stuck at my computer and must provide several thousand words of nano. Though possibly with a break to finally getting roung to watching this week's BSG.

Chocolate and Baileys, you are there to serve my purposes.

I have three gratuitous sex scenes planned, one raid, at least one argument between Hob and Will, and I really need a bit of plot. Pah. The plot can fall by the wayside if the sex scenes fulfil the word count. As of last night, I was at 40,777, so those sex scenes better be *wordy*.

Right, Now to get on with Sheriff and Gisburne in the bath...

T-minus 2 and counting

Chapter 9 finito, inspired by the slashiest scene in the whole series, aka "Harder, Gisburne, harder!". Basically, we get Sheriff, we get Gisburne, we get "Who the fuck is this new Robin Hood?" and we get bathtub sex. 3,000 words of bathtub sex.

Which means I have to churn out just over three thou each day for the next two days. Oh christ on a crutch, my internet bill at the cafe's going to be massive, since hometime is practically non-existent. This also means no reading of fic. Whatsoever.

Oh, and Channel 4 just had the Ultimate 100 movies on. Watched the last of it. The way they rated it wasn't how much box office, or how much voting, it was sheer bums on seats in the UK. You know what was top? Gone with the Wind. Know how many bums on seats? 35 million. Yep. You saw that figure. 2/3 of the population of the UK. Interestingly enough, a large proportion of the top ten and twenty were forties films, sprinkled with Jaws, LOTR, Titanic and Harry Potter. But if you were James Mason, or Anne Aneagle or the other leading lady? You were pure box office dynamite, never mind gold. A few of the films we'd never even heard of, let alone gone 'er... I know the title, never seen it' like we did with some of theirs.