The lucky don't care at all

I have been so lazy these past few days, it's beyond sad. I countered my slothful tendencies by having lunch with Em today. It in turn countered her boredom as I supplied some lovely Doctor Who season 3 goodness for her - and got my season 2s back. I breathe easy having my Torchwood back, I know it's silly, but it's like a damned security blanket or something. Ah dear, there is no hope.

Only plans for the near future include lots of writing, movie tomorrow night, and then NYE with Lizzie. Sadly, I am so painfully broke it defies eloquent description. Gah I don't know what I'm going to do. Sell a kidney on the black market? Hm.

Um. Yeah. Look I really have nothing to contribute to the greater blogverse...all I've done in the last four hours is play some epic adventure quest majong game. I fear my eyes are going to start bleeding any minute, but I did win! Yaaaaay *sigh*

Goodbyes should always be brief
Yes, yes: We loved Russell T Davies' run on Doctor Who as much as anyone, but the year of special episodes seemed weighed down by a sense of its own self-importance that reached epic proportions...
[From io9's 'Five entertainment lessons we hope 2009 has taught the future']

Ain't that the truth. These specials have been a painful way to end things.

Yawn. Ugh I'm boring myself. Why do I blog? Who knows. I'm going to go...watch...'Fragments'...sigh.

Music: Unnatural Selection - Muse
Mood: Thirsty