The Many Faces of Shawn Spencer!

Hello dear tourists. Today we will be following the Santa Barbara psychic, Shawn Spencer. He has many expressions. We will be observing him in his natural habitat.

Here we have Shawn with his friend Gus This is Shawn's "sneaky face."



What's that, Shawn? Oh, no. We can't even see you. *rolls eyes* Anyway. Let's move on.

This is Shawn's surprised, "Oh, craaaap" face. Gus's expression is a mixture of troubling sadness and shock.



Okay, Shawn. Smile for us, okay?

*sighs* Okay, Shawn, what a lovely smile. This is his "Tears for Fears" face.



This is Gus's "kissy face," and we have no idea who that chick is. In the background, you can see Shawn's "hey, Gus! Uh... why are you kissing that girl? What are you doing?!" face.



Don't worry, Shawn. We have a feeling she won't be sticking around. *devious wink*

Next, we have Shawn's "tribal warrior" face.



...yes, that's very nice, Shawn. Now go put the dead wolf away, you're scaring the children.

*sighs* Just a nice smile, Shawn? Please?



Shawn... that's not... that's not even a real picture. And that's barely a smile.

What? No. No! We do not want to see the Great Christmas Disaster pictures. I don't care how nice your smile is in it.

*facepalm* No, don't eat all my pineapples, I need those!

*something crashes*

Shawn! That was the nice china!

Ah, you can't use that t-

This tour has been cut short due to technical difficulties. We ask that you please return to the main building. No refunds are available.

*Shawn's laughter in the distance* Gus! C'mere, man! I got free pineapple smoothies!

Shawn!

I concur.

As my dear friend Crazy Cookie has mentioned, Comic Con 2010 is in San Diego right now.

So. Jealous.

I wish I could go. Psych, White Collar, Star Trek, Castle, TBBT... ah, sounds so fun. All the people there wouldn't be, though. Crowds and I don't always get along well. But it sounds amazing/awesome nonetheless.

The pictures I found have only increased my pain.







Last, but by no means least, this one is just for you, Crazy Cookie.



I love it! I laughed madly when I saw it, hope you like it too.

Switching topics rapidly, we've discovered yet another reason to be worried for my mental health/physical coordination. Last night, I was walking out on our back porch to go sit in the grass with my family. I weaved through a veritable minefield of toys, bikes, empty boxes, and trash cans. Without any difficulties, I made it to the steps. They were completely free of debris, mind you. I took one step up...

And then I tripped. Resulting from the Fall of Fun was is a strangely colored bruise/scrape on my left leg. It's wonderful. The sad thing is is that this happens a lot. I trip on nothing at all, but can manage obstacles just fine. Hm.

The night was actually quite nice in spite of this. I stayed outside long after my family went in, and brought the laptop out for a while to write. The campfire was still going, the moon was out, it was nicely cooled down. Super fun. I wrote a lot and had a nice conversation with my ... friend.

At about one a.m. I finally went inside. Grudgingly.

The only thing that could've made the night better?

Rain.



I love rain. Love, love, love it. We don't get enough here. I especially love when it gets the pavement and grass all wet and that special rain smell goes all over. It's fabulous. Rain puts me in a writing mood.

Maybe nature will decide to love me and give me a storm soon.

Or, at least, we can hope.

Happy Friday.

Isn't it lovely? It just started, but something in the air tells me it's going to be a good day.

I would like to say, I appreciate it when my favorite tv-shows are clean. Psych did an awful job of that last season, but they seem to be shaping up so far. The episode on Wednesday was cute and made me laugh. We'll hope they continue their upward motion on the cleanliness scale.



On a completely unrelated note, I discovered something that gives me much cause for ponderfication: If I write something late enough at night, I have no memory of it the next morning. I woke up this morning to find another nearly thousand words written in my story, but I have no recollection whatsoever of writing them. This causes me great concern.