Torchwood: the finale (no spoilers)...or maybe not
I was rising twelve when the Beatles' film A Hard Day's Night was originally released. Already loving their music, I was interested in the movie, so I took myself off to the cinema. And hated every minute of it. Oh, not the film itself - which, as I realised many years later on actually being able to hear the sound that went with the visuals, was a sweetly amusing little romp - but the fact that the theatre, like probably every other cinema around the world that was showing A Hard Day's Night at the time, was filled with screaming, crying, hysterically flailing and wailing fangirls who made it impossible for me to clearly see and hear a single coherent scene.
Some of them wet their seats. And the cinema looked like a bomb site afterwards.
I never forgave those girls, whoever they were. I can only hope that when any one of them looks back on those days, she has the decency to want to smash her own face against the nearest wall for the shame of it.
Fuck only knows what it would have been like if they'd had the internet in those days.
...oh, right, Torchwood. Fecking fantastic television. Made me cheer. Made me hate some of the characters. Made me cry. I'm disappointed in a number of people out there tonight, but Russell T Davies and Team Torchwood are not among them.
Some of them wet their seats. And the cinema looked like a bomb site afterwards.
I never forgave those girls, whoever they were. I can only hope that when any one of them looks back on those days, she has the decency to want to smash her own face against the nearest wall for the shame of it.
Fuck only knows what it would have been like if they'd had the internet in those days.
...oh, right, Torchwood. Fecking fantastic television. Made me cheer. Made me hate some of the characters. Made me cry. I'm disappointed in a number of people out there tonight, but Russell T Davies and Team Torchwood are not among them.