Freedom and Responsibility
I really am becoming quite concerned about Richey. Although he has succeeded in giving up all but two of the substances to which he was previously addicted, and now weighs well over seven stone, I'm just not sure he's happy. I have become quite accustomed to the appellation "bourgeois cunt", and my first aid skills are improving rapidly, but saving the universe is quite frankly a piece of piss compared to saving Richey.
I have bought him the black paint he requested, and he is now decorating his bedroom. The TARDIS isn't happy.
I think it feels threatened.
On a lighter note, I saw Gerald of Wales earlier today. He gave me another five of his books. I tried explaining that I'd read them, but he didn't seem to think I'd been thorough enough. He's testing me on them next week.
My other selves are squabbling dreadfully. I have the greatest of affection for all of them, and sincerely hope that this is merely a temporary state of affairs
I have bought him the black paint he requested, and he is now decorating his bedroom. The TARDIS isn't happy.
I think it feels threatened.
On a lighter note, I saw Gerald of Wales earlier today. He gave me another five of his books. I tried explaining that I'd read them, but he didn't seem to think I'd been thorough enough. He's testing me on them next week.
My other selves are squabbling dreadfully. I have the greatest of affection for all of them, and sincerely hope that this is merely a temporary state of affairs