Okay, so I don't exactly agree with her being called a whore, but it does kinda go towards proving my "Kirsten Dunst is stupid and useless" point. Check it out here.

If you want to read the actual interview, it's located here, or the relevant clips are those two paragraphs:

WOULD YOU WANT TO SEE HER KILLED OFF OR WOULD IS SOMEBODY ELSE GOING TO TAKE OVER THE ROLE? THAT WOULD BE EVEN STRANGER.

DUNST: It would actually be really interesting if Spiderman died I think. Cause, rarely, why doesn't the superhero ever die? It would be so sad and beautiful.


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THAT'S WHY THEY CALL THEM THE SUPERHERO THOUGH.

DUNST: But he's so human to and it think that if Mary Jane was like alone and pregnant and he dies, you know she could give birth to a Spiderbaby and carry on the series with another young boy or something like that. I doubt Toby would come back for a fourth or a fifth either.



In other news, when will Blogger get tired of screwing around with my settings? When, oh when? Apparently too many people were too stupid to figure out how to do links or something, so now it's all screwed up and "simplified" and oddly enough, I can't figure it out. Is it so hard to learn how to link things? I know how to do it, so therefore I say no, it isn't.

*goes off to see what kinds of settings she needs to change to get this back to normal*

Oh yeah, and Thena news; she fully escaped from my apartment this morning. I left the place, noticed I had a parcel in my mailbox (yay for Chapters.ca, now I have Angels and Demons to read, as well as the new Josey Vogels), so I opened my door to take the parcel inside and open it. As I stepped through the door, Thena stepped out, and I didn't shut the door in time -- I just saw a little grey butt out on my stoop.

I was rather burdened down, but I set down the parcel, and opened the door, prepared to drop everything and go racing around in an effort to catch her if necessary. My street, while definitely not one of the busiest ones downtown (especially since the upper portion of it is closed due to construction), still gets its fair share of traffic in the morning. Fortunately for me and this story (and you may have gleaned from the not-very-panicked/upset tone of this update, barring the Blogger weirdness), her brief foray into rebellion and freedom consisted of her sitting down on the stoop and staring at the street and cars at the closest intersection (several buildings down).

I nabbed the little pain in the ass and brought her inside, telling her -- in a farily upset tone -- that she wasn't to go out as I did. I had turned her so that she was belly-up, facing me, held in my arm, and my face was relatively close to hers. In order to further her rebellion and demonosity, she reached her face up, and in a show of great tenderness and love, bit both of my lips.

So I scruffed her, told her off a bit more for both of her actions this morning, and left for work.

Maybe her escape was just her way of getting me back for giving her a time-out this morning, but who knows? The weird thing about it was that she wasn't racing or speedy in her escape, just wily. She just made good use of the limited amount of space I'd provided her and left.

Maybe I should start force-feeding her so she'll get fat and slow and perhaps nicer? Urgh. Damn cat.