cool, because choosing between Braugher and Laurie? Not fair...I doubt I could do it.

No woman with eyes and ears could, Erika.

Cause, okay, Laurie's the new guy for me so I kind of want to spend time with him...we've been separated for three weeks already and stuff. But there's a lot of history between me and Braugher...I've watched him e-nun-ci-ate off and on for...Jesus, over ten years.And he's finally got a non- Pembleton project that's not all spinachy and improving. I have to be there for that!

Heh.

Funnily enough, I have a portrait of Hugh Laurie on my wall here right now, livening up my classroom.

eta

AIFG.

AIFG.

One might ask, "How could it not be?"

(Well, it's a pencil sketch. So perhaps I should rather say that the source photograph is definitely FG, but the drawing is maybe more YMMV. But I like it. Plus, couldn't resist the poetry of I being FG.)

Arby? Insent. (Now I need a cold shower.)

Got it, thank you darling!! You are the best. I am mad inspired now to make it better.

More House/ Wonderfalls
Shapiro took Jaye into a smaller room to give her the cognition test where they give her five random words and ask her to repeat them back, followed briskly by Cuddy, who, in her desire to Be On Top Of Things reminded House of Cameron on a bad day. A bad day for House. Probably Cameron considered them good days. She could pile up her shiny, shiny, gold stars. House felt stiff and restless so he got up. He was debating whether he should take a leak now or wait for GH’s first commercial break, but he barely got two steps out in the hallway before he was waylaid by a wet-eyed Karen Tyler. Jesus. It’s alive.
“Dr. House,” she pleaded, “Will my baby be all right? I’ve just always thought it took her a long time to find her way, but then she had this...’sode, and now I wonder if I’ll have to see her in some halfway house, or...”

“Look,” House snapped, wishing, incredibly enough, to have Wilson’s finesse for about ten seconds, “we both know that if she needs that, it’ll barely cause you to wear flats to commit her. Ten days after her diagnosis, I’ll be muting you on Oprah being Mental Illness Hero Mom and six months after that, you’ll be having lunch with Elton John and doing public service announcements about what to do if your teen talks to her bunny slippers. This won’t affect *you* at all. I’m not sure if anything *can*. But if it can, I need you to stop this.”

Sharon was impressed with Dr. House’s ability to shut her mother up for a whole minute(moot court had been nothing compared to getting the car as a teenager) but she’d always suspected there was something *seriously* wrong with Little Sis. She was so sloppy...had that “Whatever,” attitude five years past its sell-by date and had no interest in rising in the world whatsoever. She was past due for a ‘sode, being so UnAmerican.

“Ok,” she said. “We get it. You’re the big scary maverick. But according toMcClusky vs. Ferguson, my sister is owed a thorough psychiatric evaluation on a timely basis.”

“Wow,” House replied. “You must be responsible for some warm moments around the Christmas tree. And people think *I’m* mean. At least I’ve got the stones not to hide it behind superficial tidiness. I have the plain old guts to go around being a total dick if I feel like it, and that’s why I’m gonna say “liar, liar, pants on fire” right here in front of your mother. You could translate it into Latin if it’ll make you feel better, Counselor. Of course, if you got your pants on fire once in a while, you might not be so eager to talk your sister *into* the cuckoo’s nest...when I’m getting laid, I’m almost magnaminous. Not as much as Wilson, though...he’s actually a sweet guy.”

Karen looked surprised.” Is this true? Did you lie to Dr. House?”

Sharon just looked miserable, so House said “Do you want to know what her mistake was?”

“Yes.” Karen said, as if the answer to this one stupid question would give her her old life without thinking of ‘sodes and hospitals. “Yes, I would.”

“She tried to run a con without knowing her mark...I learned a lot fucking a lawyer. Tons of lawyer jokes, how to buy the hairspray that would really last all day, and that there was no McClusky decision regarding mental health.”

For a minute, Sharon was lost in picturing Clea McClusky, her first year law school crush. She wasn’t much to look at, maybe, but she had this amazing brown hair that Sharon would have loved to see spread out on a pillow somewhere. It had started as a tribute using the girl’s name to win arguments, even if Clea had dropped out to get married and never knew...had House guessed? Sharon flushed.