Life. Don't talk to me about life. *sigh*
E.I. is done, the bar is already starting to get to me and I need more stories! Rent is tentative, so is cable--I'm affeared for my internet! *L* Uh, Torchwood just keeps sucking, and apparently I am a masochist, or just so loyal to John Barrowman that I have to keep watching. Looks like this will be the end for real, though. Was nice that Jack mentioned Ianto in ep 8, but trust me on this one--just stick to the radio plays and the fanfiction. I think I'm going to veer off canon from ep seven of this debacle and bring Ianto back from the dead. Looks like it could happen, at any rate. Hell, I can probably use the swank tile job from Angelo's bedroom somehow. If Russel's logic can be crap, surely mine can be a bit dodgy.

The Sherlock trailer made me come in my pants. Yeah, I said it. Holy fuck! Martin's face! Ben's everything! A smoking joke and the white knuckles! Russell Tovey, I love you! Oh, yes indeed, everything's Benedict and nothing hurts.

Gonna try and get out to Calgary next month, but there's also Coronation to deal with, so I'll play it by ear.

I'm sorry, I'm too tired for more.

August 28, 2011