"And I can't help this feeling that I could blow through the ceiling..."

First of all: (in which I abuse capslock and my mother makes wonderful drunk comments)

( Top Gear of the Pops )

Ahem.

( Ranting about David Tennant, following Moog watching Recovery - cut for length )

I want Christopher Eccleston back as my Doctor now, plzkthx.

And while I'm ranting about Doctor Who, what ever happened to the script quality? It was like they decided to go from this intelligent, moving, well-acted genius first come-back series to this abysmal heap of shite that was thought too much of itself, not thought through enough and just not what I had come to expect.

Third series, you have damn well got some making up to do to me.

On a completely unrelated note: I just spell-checked this thing, and where I've written 'whassisname', the spell-check is offering me 'viciousness'. I think not.

"And I can't help this feeling that I could blow through the ceiling..."

First of all: (in which I abuse capslock and my mother makes wonderful drunk comments)

( Top Gear of the Pops )

Ahem.

( Ranting about David Tennant, following Moog watching Recovery - cut for length )

I want Christopher Eccleston back as my Doctor now, plzkthx.

And while I'm ranting about Doctor Who, what ever happened to the script quality? It was like they decided to go from this intelligent, moving, well-acted genius first come-back series to this abysmal heap of shite that was thought too much of itself, not thought through enough and just not what I had come to expect.

Third series, you have damn well got some making up to do to me.

On a completely unrelated note: I just spell-checked this thing, and where I've written 'whassisname', the spell-check is offering me 'viciousness'. I think not.

"It's 1973, almost dinnertime. I'm having hoops."

WHY DID NONE OF YOU WARN ME THAT 1x07 OF LIFE ON MARS WOULD KILL ME?!

I've just spent the last hour alternating between having my hands clutched over my mouth, pausing the television from sheer anxiety, hiding under the blanket and SCREECHING at the television.

I can't watch the last episode of Series One tonight, like I planned.

I want to avoid having a heart attack.

"It's 1973, almost dinnertime. I'm having hoops."

WHY DID NONE OF YOU WARN ME THAT 1x07 OF LIFE ON MARS WOULD KILL ME?!

I've just spent the last hour alternating between having my hands clutched over my mouth, pausing the television from sheer anxiety, hiding under the blanket and SCREECHING at the television.

I can't watch the last episode of Series One tonight, like I planned.

I want to avoid having a heart attack.