(no subject)

Avoiding time_and_chips is fairly pointless when I simply get seduced over to better_with_3 instead. Argh. This is all Captain Jack's fault, for skating so prettily and reminding me that I'm a Doctor-Who-fic!whore.

And having established that, go read Acceptance and Loss and then the sequel part one and part two. Until we get Torchwood, it does a damn good job of filling in the gaps for poor Jack, ignoring just how much it bugs me when people write Rose's accent.

I'm supposed to be getting up in around six hours to do washing. *sighs* Guess I should go to bed and stop reading fic.

Maybe one more.

*whimpers*

There's nowayinhell I can sleep before Andy finished playing now. Oh god. Screw sleep. Stress now, sleep later.

WHY DOES HE ALWAYS DO THIS TO US?

edit: Sigh. Sometimes I wonder how his mind works, I really do. Though all I know for sure is that I'd have thrown the nearest portable object at him by now if I was in the audience.

The nonsensical world of Andy Roddick. One day he might cease to surprise - and stress - me but I doubt it. Crikey.

edit: I can't. I can't sit here and watch this in a completely silent flat. I just can't.

edit: ...

edit: I have to go to bed. I'm doing no good sitting here worrying. Not to mention that I can't deal with this kind of stress at almost-5:30am. I'm too tired to even scream at the Live Scores and I really can't watch silently anymore. Bed.

Anyone with actual TV coverage, please tell me that someone in the audience has thrown something at him by now. Tennis balls, shoes. Anything. Small, portable anvils perhaps.

Bed.

(no subject)

For all the things thay can do now, they still can't save one little whale.

I really wanted him to make it too. :(

Working now. Back later.