His server is somewhere down in the garage. There was later joking that it was probably beside a box. No, between two boxes, so the box was boxed by boxes. And if you slapped it upside both sides at once with both hands, you'd be boxing the boxed boxen. And if you did it on the day after Christmas, you'd be doing it on boxing day. And if you had gloves on while you were doing it...
His server is where the FMA resides. So we watched something of hcolleen's that involved a demon-eyes guy sharing a body with some lord dude who had ladies crying after him. And there was a snake-mutant.
At about this point, English went out and retrieved his friend, an old college buddy who is completely outrageous. According to English. According to me, he and I think a rather lot alike, and we started comparing notes on how to best weird-out those surrounding us with the perfectly normal contents of our heads. It's so incredibly refreshing to hear someone asked what he's thinking, and to hear a response involving, "I am looking at three shades of grey." This prompted English that it was probably time to take his buddy home, but I totally got into a groove with the guy on the topic of "You know, just saying what happens to be going through your brain at the moment can really make other people wonder about you, even though there's no no need!"
There was Death Note after the guys got back. Death Note and pizza. There was some minor alarm at the pizza guy not getting there on time, and some bad web UI with English's new address vs. one of the usual pizza places. There is a fuckton of construction going on, and the pizza guy got caught in some of that.
English wants a Death Note. I'm quite glad to say that they're fictional, because OMG, English with a Death Note would be a Bad Thing. I'm also quite happy to say that the Blonder Half was immediately telling Light that he was an idiot for even thinking about playing with the thing. I ♥ my best friend.
I like English's friend, not in the least because he causes English to lighten up a bit. The fellow's a bit of a prig, and it's good for his soul to be wound up some.
I got a little freeway-twisted on the way home. Note to self: don't do that, then. I turned bright red because of associations involved in getting freeway-lost, like the LA sign thing and arguing all the way home with Darkside that one time.
Hormones have been acting up. I was ouch through most of the evening, and that takes a bit of doing these days.