flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread
Not really. This blog brings me and all five of my readers a certain amount of joy, so yay blog. Aaaanyway. . .
He reminds me of the owl.
The owl with the power.
The power to turn into David Bowie in leggings and boots, apparently. I had the feelings for Jareth before I was old enough to know what the feelings were, although that moment in ‘Dance, Magic Dance’ where he leans into the camera and you get a really good close up of british teeth: classic edition did dampen my ardour slightly. Still, Sarah totally made the wrong choice.
He’s fine, Sarah. Nothing says good plan like a baby, breakable toys, and an infinity of Escher stairs.