A few days ago, my mummy let slip that my British!Auntie's parents had recently purchased a house up in Northern California, somewhere in Sonoma, I believe. After they fix it up & whatnot, they're planning on living here four months out of the year, then the rest of the time, my aunt & her family can use it if they wish.
So what all of that means, is that I have a relative with a house in the country.
(& my aunt already said that maybe we could go up there for a weekend.)
& when Mother told me that, I said, 'Well then. That's worth me learning to drive, isn't it?' ('cause then the two of us could go up there for the weekend, or I could myself.)
So basically, minus the drugs & alcohol, plus anxiety-killing pills, I'm turning into a girl version of Marwood, aren't I?
Yeah, I thought so.
So, did you all enjoy part one of of my epic Withnail & I picspam? I hope you did, 'cause here's part two, loves. ::is a twirly thing::
Once again, this is for my lovely lady
velvet_midnight & also, for
igrayne, since she loved the first part!
♥♥ NOT DIALUP FRIENDLY WHATSOEVER! ♥♥
Okay, picking up with a few caps I left out of part one & can't believe that I did . . .
& you see why this first part of this instalment was relevant - time to beg Withnail's family for the country cottage for a weekend!
& while we're at it, we're gonna suck down some very nice wine right here!
'I'm told you're a writer too.'
::smiles blankly::
'Are you published?'
'Do you write poems?'
'No . . . I wish I could. Just thoughts, really.'
HOLIDAYS ARE A GO!
'These aren't accidents! They're throwing themselves into the road, gladly! They're throwing themselves into the road to escape all this hideousness!'
::Withnail sticks his head out the window & shouts at passerby::
'THROW YOURSELF INTO THE ROAD, DARLING! YOU HAVEN'T GOT A CHANCE!'
Alas, most of the caps I got of them arriving at the cottage were a) too dark or b) too shitty to share, so let us move on to their first morning in the cottage!
This is a simple fangirlish pleasure to mention, but you do know that he's not really wearing anything under that coat, yes?
Making friends with the locals!
. . . or not.
mmmmm, books!
'Eat it? Fucker's alive!'
::faints in a very ladylike way over the last two caps::
Surely it's five o'clock SOMEWHERE!
'Come on old boy - what's in your hump?' (I'm sorry, I DIE of laughter every time I watch that scene.)
'We don't want a rabbit, we want a pheasant!'
'Sod your pheasants!'
(o, man, I fucking adore this scene) 'YOU'LL ALL SUFFER! I'LL SHOW THE LOT OF YOU! I'M GONNA BE A STAAAAAAAR!'
'I think I'll call myself Donald Twain . . . '
LOLZ PSYCHOTICS ON THE PROWL.
You see, in both their interests, Withnail felt that they should sleep together, just in case the maniac came upstairs.
Marwood, however, wasn't overly fond of this.
'Fine, you can stay, but the gun doesn't.'
'No! I have to keep the gun, I intend to remain awake until morning!'
'This is my bed and I demand precedence!'
'You fucking bastard!'
& ladies & the few gentlemen that I am acquainted with? This part could basically be called part 2B - Sunday Aeryn's sudden, unexpected collarbone fetish. But we're not, so enjoy it!
(I swear, I'm utterly useless at times - I kept saying to myself, 'girl, this ain't Doctor Who, so quit thinking of Paul as Eight in this scene!' BUT I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF & KEPT DOING IT. Now I'm convinced that Eight would totally have a bed like that. I mean . . . it's just so very Eight!)
& once again, Withnail's ready to sell Marwood out to a homicidal maniac to save himself.
'. . . O, my boys, my boys . . . '
'MONTY, YOU TERRIBLE CUNT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING PROWLING AROUND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING NIGHT?!'
OMG MARWOOD, STOP BEING SO CUTE PLZ, IT BE LETHAL.
::pets Marwood:: O, bb, you're kinda screwed now.
Monty: OM NOM NOM.
Marwood: OMG DO NOT WANT.
'He won't leave me alone!'
I still say they're toasting anyone in the room who managed to get a leg over poor, clueless Marwood, don't you?
Free money = PUB TIEMS NAO.
'We want to get in there, don't we? Eat some cake, soak up the booze.'
'Balls! We want the finest wines available to humanity. We want them here, and we want them now!'
They're such drunken, debauched bastards & I love them both.
::gigglesnorts:: I'm sorry, but watching Withnail be so drunk he crashes into a pole brings me the lulz. & I'd still sleep with both of them, drunk or not.
'We'll be back!'
& yes, they WILL be back tomorrow, lovebubbles, when I post part three, which is my favourite part so far & tomorrow, you'll see why.