Halloweevil
Two things happened today that affirmed my obsession with Torchwood.
Thing the first:
Overheard by a woman at work, who was in hysterics and gesticulating neurotically at the people she was seated with:
"AND I WAS SCREAMING AT ADAM, I WAS SCREAMING, "REMEMBER REMEMBER!!!" That's what I said, I don't know why he can't remember these things."
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Thing the second:
Marie and I went shopping this afternoon, and I FOUND AN OWEN JACKET IT WAS HIS "OUT OF TIME" JACKET IT WAS JUST LIKE IT WITH THE BROWN AND THE ZIPPERS AND THE COLLAR AND IT WAS HIS JACKET and I tried it on and jizzed myself in the mirror and flapped about wildly and said very loudly so the whole outerwear department could hear, "I FOUND IT IT'S HIS JACKET LOOKIT IT, LOOK, LOOK MARIE IT'S OWEN'S JACKET!"
And then Marie, after pinching her eyebrows together and huffing in consternation, said, "No. It just isn't you."
And then I cried for ten years and hung it back on the rack.
She was right. I looked janky in it.
But I felt so cool.
And it was only $20.00.
EMOTIONAL TRAUMA.
On that note:
I kind of want to be Owen for Halloween but I am not
A.) A male
and
B.) Due to the implications of 'A', not willing to expose my gaping bullet wound (located between my breasts).
SIGH.
P.S.
Cuz Lord knows it'll make Marie happy:
