I'm having lunch with one of my bf, and we are actually mourning a TV character. That's fucked up, right? We are talking of how amazing Torchwood: Children of Earth was up until THAT point yesterday.
I mean... I'm in a country with a 7 hours difference from Cardiff, we are eating tamales for crying out loud, and we are ranting against Russel T Davies and trowing 'fuck yous' to the wind in hopes he can hear them.
And I can see a big deal of my Flist is freaking out.
I know I am.
There is something realy fucked up with you when you prefer your viewers being afraid of the next episode than excited.