BUT SO VERY DESPERATE TO WATCH ELECTIONS
I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW ANYONE CAN SLEEP
HOW PEOPLE CAN SAY ‘IT’S NOT MY COUNTRY’
YES IT FUCKING IS, LIKE IT OR NOT, IT IS. IT’S YOUR WORLD THEY RUN.
175 to 76. COME ON OBAMA. COME ON.
This makes perfect sense to me also! I hope the little green men are treating you well on PLANET TWATHEAD.
MORONS.
As you may or may not be able to guess, I am not particularly fond of Christmas shopping.
AAARGH.
I am going to go and stay with my Grandma this Christmas. Also with my brother and Auntie Jin. Oh, wot larks we shall have, eh Pip?
…. Grr.
Cut for Doctor Who Series 4 spoilers. You are advised not to read if you are avoiding them, don’t watch Doctor Who, or know the spoilers and are fond of the character they contain.
It’s not even Rose I had the problem with, she was fine if too clingy and childish for my tastes in Series 2. But it’s the ‘ROSE IS MORE SPECIAL THAN ANYONE ELSE’ stuff they’ve thrown in since I have the problem with. Russell T Davies resurrected Doctor Who, which I thank him for. But he also ruined it.
DAMN HIM DAMN HIM
AND DAMN ROSE TYLER.
*stabs*
“Ah, right, so we take the Circle line to Victoria. Simple. Here’s the Circle and District bit. And here’s our tube now.”
“Are you absolutely sure, Abs?”
“Yes. Well, 99%. 98?”
“I think it said District line. We have to get to Victoria on time, Abbi.”
“That, Mother dearest, is because the Circle and District lines run together from Paddington to High Street Kensington. Don’t worry your head about it, you’ll hurt yourself. Tsk, District line indeed.”
The next station is Earl’s Court.
“… SHIT.”
“What?”
“We’reontheDistrictLineQUICKGETOFFTHETRAIN.”
“Abbi!”
-
“Ask this lady how to get to Victoria, go on.”
“No, Mum, it’s perfectly simple, look, we just double back to Notting Hill Gate and then take the train through to South Kensington, missing out Kensington Olympia, easy, we might even catch our train, now, let’s find another platform…”
“Excuse me, what’s the quickest way to Victoria?”
“That train just about to leave there, Madam, three stops and you’re there.”
“Thanks.”
“… Oh, VICTORIA. We’re going to Victoria? Well, I could have told you that.”
-
WARNING
SPOILER-FUELLED SPECULATION & SQUEEING ABOUNDS INSIDE
SERIOUSLY, IF YOU DON’T WANT TO BE SPOILED FOR THE SERIES FINALE,
DON’T CLICK
… He’s coming back. Koschei’s back, the Master’s alive. And he’s being p-p-played b-by JOHN SIMM.
And possibly - mark this - possibly also Derek Jacobi. DEREK JACOBI.
A THREE PART FINALE. A PROPER STORYLINE WITH RESOLVED ARCS AND absolutely no UST AND GRATUITOUS OLD SCHOOL REFERENCES AND MARTHA SAVING THE DAY. AND JACK. AND GALLIFREY ANGST, DID I MENTION THE ANGST?
The Master’s coming back to Doctor Who. Some of the greatest actors of modern television will be onscreen together.
I’m so happy I could cry.
Abs x
which I am not overly fond of; in some ways, I have become prejudiced.
And this is going to change, because I do not like this judgemental person I have become. I will henceforth try to be more tolerant of everyone*.
Also, Rab C Nesbitt is a good show for anyone who likes Scottish accents that they cannot understand a word of, fat unemployed people in string vests, and completely unexpected David Tennant in a dress saying “Bollocks,” seductively and yet terrifyingly.
And also the line “My ring gets awfully tight when I get hot,” which is pretty much the only coherent line and also intensly disturbing. It’s like watching a show in a foreign language, so you can make up your own plot, but there’s the guilt of not understanding it.
(CLICK FOR BIGGER… IF YOU DARE)
Her name is Davina, and she kicks several kinds of arse. No, I didn’t make that up, she’s actually called Davina.
And… am I the only one who mistook her for an actual woman?
Why yes, yes you do need brain bleach now.
t’ Abs x
* Everyone does not include Year 7s.
If you want the myspace, by the way, it can be accessed at le link. I seem to have chose to keep it after all. We’ll see how it works out.
Also, Dad just quit work. Well, balls.
x
Shit, to be perfectly honest.
I can’t sleep because I feel sick and keep having nightmares, I feel stupid and pointless myself and keep wanting to beat myself round the head because I’m so useless, and I am in no way ready. You do of course all realise that tomorrow it really kicks off. Now it’s a no-breaks ride to examville, and by no breaks, I also mean no brakes. As in we can’t stop it or control it, and there’s no stops for coffee.
You’ve seen those signs, right? The ones that say “Tiredness Kills - Take A Break”? Well, WHY has nobody informed AQA of this? Indeed, why has nobody informed my brain of this? “Hey, Abbi, STOP THINKING. GO TO SLEEP.” Uh, no, I can’t.
Possibly I shouldn’t have just watched Recovery before typing this, which, whilst a wonderful drama that had me gripped and laughing and crying and all sorts, was utterly heartbreaking, and now I’m depressed. Except I was already. Because I think that I’m going to let everyone down and I’m letting myself down and I simply can’t do it. I can’t. I cannot face going into school and smiling at Mrs P in the morning when she asks “How’re you feeling, Abbi?” and I say “Very well, thank you, Miss.” And then Miss S says “Are you okay, Abs? Coursework going alright, yeah?” “Oh, fine.” And then Mr BLOODY C says “Oh, blah, my holidays, blah blah, where are your essays, Abigail, hmm?” and I say “Not quite finished, Sir,” and seriously what is my motivation problem at the moment?
I can’t take home either. Dad is shouty and all of a sudden he’s ill. His leg, it’s all infected and swollen and he needs my mother to do his shoelaces for him. And obviously we all know what the mother problem is. Well, guess how it was getting better? Yeah, it’s getting worse again. And geez, I know there are people a lot worse off than me and I’m just moaning, I really am, but ARGH. I want to sleep. I want to curl up into a ball and sleep for ages and I want a cuddle again and I want to just fuck all the exams and go walking to nowhere and never have to ever take an exam ever again. I said this to my mother and she said “I’ll love you whatever you do.” Well, of course you will, you’re my mother. But it doesn’t mean I can quit what everyone else is managing, does it?
I HATE THIS FEELING.
I AM NOT READY FOR THIS. FOR ANYTHING.
THEY. HAVE TAKEN AWAY. MY FUCKING CAT.
THEY PUT HER IN THE GODDAMN CAR AND TOOK HER TO FUCKING PORTSMOUTH AND THEY DIDN’T EVEN TELL ME SO I WAS OUT WHEN THEY TOOK MY CAT AWAY FOREVER. MY BEAUTIFUL BABY. MY FUCKING GODDAMN CAT.
ARSE FUCKITY FUCK ARRRRSE.
>>>>>>FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!<<<<<<<
WANKERS. ALL MY RELATIVES ARE WANKERS AND I NEED A CUP OF TEA BUT THAT REQUIRES GOING DOWNSTAIRS AND ALSO I AM OUT OF TISSUES DUE TO TOO MUCH CRYING OH THE WANKERS I WANT MY CEEKI BACK.
I so desperately need a cuddle right now.
