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I'm not sure if this is a sign of obsession or rather just being pathetic and/or inventive, but...
Flatmate and I want to watch some Richard Armitage in black leather. We sit down on a mattress on the floor, but alas we need something to support the laptop with.
"I usually take random books from the shelf," flatmate says, "but it's one hell of a job to figure out how to get the piles even." She proceeds to rummage in my room, and comes soon back carrying some of my HoME copies. "So this time we'll have two identical piles!"
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He bit me, and I was not gentle.
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