I present to you the work of another painter of fish plates. Y’know how you use ‘scare quotes’ for various purposes, including indicating that you’re not actually sure about The Thing?
Well, this guy was so bad at whatever he was painting that we call him…
The ‘tadpole’ painter:
Here’s another example:
This one was sold as part of the Graham Geddes collection at Bonham’s auction house in 2008 for £2,040.
They describe it as ‘three fish including a wrasse with dorsal spines, an angler-fish, the rounded body with multiple black dots, two large round eyes with pupils, an open mouth with teeth bared, and a ray with pointed face, the body with multiple black dots’.
Which like… bold fucking move missing out the fact that they have legs. Though I can’t say I envy whoever had to write the description.
I know most folks have probably seen this already, but I really need to talk about how insane it is that David mentioned Michael as a possible Doctor on an episode of DW Confidential in 2007.
This was ten years before filming GO season 1, and there was absolutely no reason for David to be saying Michael's name. Julie and Jane did not bring Michael up in any capacity, nor was he specifically relevant to the conversation. Yet of all the names David could have said, out of all the countless UK actors in the business...he said "Michael Sheen."
There is this idea that soulmates are "loud." That it means seeing someone from across a crowded room as music swells dramatically in the background. But soulmates are also quiet. A soulmate can be someone you talk about when no one is listening. Someone you think about and who makes you blush for no real reason at all. Someone who lives in the back of your mind, vibrating at a steady hum that you don't even hear at first.
Until it gets louder.
Until they're suddenly a part of your life in a way you never expected.
Until you can't remember anymore what life was like without them.
From BYT in 2003 to this DW Confidential in 2007 to Good Omens in 2017 on into the present. Call it the invisible red string. Call it Fate. Whatever it is that's between them, I am and will forever be in awe at Michael always being on David's mind (and vice-versa), and how they finally found each other...
oh my god, fine, i didn't go to bed because 🥺 what about nerd kirishima 🥺
like it's sero's fault that you even meet him, because he keeps flinging shit at you across your shared desk, and you get into this stupid war with office supplies that turns VIOLENT, until one of you — him, for sure — gets their foot caught in the web of wires under the table and yanks them all out, causing both your computer screens to go dark.
"you idiot, you're gonna get us fired!"
and he's like, "chill, chill, chill, i can fix this."
and his idea of "fixing it" is calling the company's support desk and asking for his buddy kirishima to come down to your department because he's got something cool to show him. and the "something cool" is the absolute disaster of dusty, unplugged cables that are hanging loose on the floor.
the first thing you notice about him — because how couldn't you — is how big he is ????? this little dweeb from support, who is actually not little at all. six foot something, with a white button-up that's clearly too tight on him, his red hair pulled back into a bun, and some STUPID. LITTLE. GLASSES. WAAAAAHHH.
and he gets on his knees — slacks straining over his thighs — to look under your desk to fix this mess, and he keeps having to readjust his STUPID. GLASSES. and you're just sitting perched on the edge 😌 watching him 😌
you ask him, "want me to hold that for you??" and he SMACKS his head into the underside of your desk, hissing out a little "ow, shit!" before rearing back to look up at you, a lil wide-eyed, pink-cheeked !!!
very quickly, his eyes cut to where your legs are crossed in your skirt, right by his head, before he's asking, "sorry, what?"
and he's just so stinking AKFHFUSLALHDLALA that you nod to his shirt pocket where he's got his phone, the flashlight on, struggling to see under the desk. "i said, do you want me to hold that for you?"
"oh, no, no!" kirishima is quick to look away, down to his wide, now-dusty hands. "that's—no, i don't want you to have to do that! thanks, though!"
"you should," sero pipes up, sitting in the chair at his desk, useless. and he's probably got, like, twizzlers or something from the vending machine, chewing on them as he grins at kirishima. "should get down on your knees and—"
"dude!" kirishima grits, neck bobbing as he swallows. and now even his ears are pink, so you can't help but to ask—
"you don't want me to help you?"
and he's like, stressed !!! like, "oh, no, no, that's not what i meant! if you wanna get down here, then i'd be glad—or, y'know, if you—"
but the more he keeps talking, the more nervous you can see him getting, and the more your smile stretches until he's just ducking back under the desk before you can tell that he's starting to sweat akfjeisjdjalndhak