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Posts archive for: 19 July, 2007
  • Dr Who: The Killing Frost

    Doctor Who: The Killing Frost

    CHAPTER 2: A Chilling Experience

    “Right!” The Doctor exclaimed, “You stay here. I’m going to have a quick look about.” He ran over to the chair and shrugged back into his coat. . Martha stood staring for a second. She snorted. “Stay here and do what? Dust the Tardis console? Not on your life I’m not! I’m coming with you.” The Doctor stopped stock still. He ran his finger over the chair--it could do with a bit of dusting, actually. “The Tardis is self-cleaning.” He said defensively. Or, rather, it’s supposed to be.” He shrugged.

    Looking seriously at her, he said. “It could be very dangerous. I don’t know what’s out there, yet. But something tells me, whatever it is, it’s not good.” Martha smiled. “Well, I didn’t come with you just for the witty conversation, you know.” She stared at him determinedly. Smiling suddenly, the Doctor gave in.

    He sighed. “Oh alright, have it your way--" He frowned. "What's wrong with my conversation?" Martha just smiled an shook her head. "You mean, aside from the fact that you babble a million miles an hour, don't explain anything, and basically just do whatever you like without consulting anyone?" She chuckled. "Seriously, though? You're a fab conversationalist, really. We talk about things I never would have dreamed about discussing, before I met you." The Doctor appeased, grinned and said, "Okay then, let's go--" He pointed in the direction of the Tardis wardrobe, saying sternly, "But first, you’d better put some warmer clothes on.” Martha ran back down the Tardis hallway, to search for a coat. “And hurry up!” He called after her, needlessly.

    Walking in the frosty night, the Doctor and Martha skirted around the lake. The Doctor pulled a little box from his pocket and began taking readings. Martha looked about. Despite the cold, she thought the surroundings quite lovely…the frost had rimed the leaves on the trees, making them seem like something out of an enchanted forest. Pity about the dead flowers, though, she thought to herself. Martha stooped down to look at a flower that had yet to wither--that’s when she saw the feet. She gave a start, and knelt down in the freezing earth, calling out “Doctor!”

    The Doctor ran over and, seeing the body, knelt down beside her. She felt for a pulse--but the body was frozen solid. It was a blue-eyed blond haired young man, good looking, wearing a white tee shirt and running shorts. His eyes were wide open in a startled expression. At first there seemed to be no other trauma to the body, until the Doctor turned him over. On his back had been burned a red hole, but it didn’t seem to have penetrated the body.

    Martha heard the Doctor gasp. She looked at him. “What? What is it, Doctor? What could have possibly left a mark like that? I’ve never seen anything like it before.” The Doctor’s expression was nothing less then incredulous. “No. It can’t be.” Martha was stared at the Doctor, than looked down once again at the very dead young man. “What? What did this to him? Was it alien?” He was silent, head bowed, his mind working furiously. “You’ve seen this before then?”

    The Doctor looked at her, eyes wide. He bit his lip. “Yes. You’re right. It is alien. Or to be more specific, Martian.” Martha stared. “What? You’re joking right? You mean, Martian? Like Martian, Martian? Like little green men from mars, Martian? The Doctor nodded. “Not green, more…reptilian. But yes. Martian. The Doctor turned the boy back over and gently closed his eyes. Martha looked at the young man sadly. “He was so young, what could he have done to deserve this? And why? Who are these Martians of yours, Doctor?” He looked at her soberly. "They're..."

    Just then, a blazing spear of light slashed the branches just above their heads. The Doctor and Martha looked up to see some ponderous figures moving towards them in the icy mist. The Doctor yelled, “Into the trees, quickly! Run!”

  • And..speaking of codpieces...

    Just what was George Bush trying to prove?

    (Very long pause...)

    EWWWWWW---!!!!!

  • Proof Henry VIII wasn't shy

    Obviously, fat old Henry was rather proud of his...endowment. I'm told he had an active sex life.

    (Pause) Ewwww---.

  • Just a half a bubble off plumb

    You Are 38% Strange!

    You are a bit strange, though still more normal than strange. You definitely have some quirks, don't get me wrong. But you aren't exactly freaking out old ladies on the street. It's okay though, you've got a healthy mixture of strangeness and normality.

    How Strange Are You?
    Quizzes for MySpace

    Damn! I like freaking out old ladies on the street... :))

  • Borrowed from madogsandenglishmen:

    This Is My Life, Rated
    Life: 3.7
    Mind: 4.9
    Body: 4.3
    Spirit: 5.4
    Friends/Family: 1.9
    Love: 0
    Finance: 3.1
    Take the Rate My Life Quiz

    AVERAGE SCORES:

    LIFE: 6.2

    MIND: 6.2

    BODY: 6

    SPIRIT: 6.8

    FRIENDS/FAMILY: 5.5

    LOVE: 5.4

    FINANCE: 6.6

    Okay, basically, my life totally sucks and I should just die now and have done with it. :wave::>>

  • Now for something completely different...

    That last post was a real downer. Here's something that's a little more upbeat. Something to tidy your flat by...


  • Adding a Few More Bricks to my Wall

    So, still not a peep from the guy I thought was my good friend. I suppose if he truly had been my friend, he would have at said something, he would show a little more respect for me, maybe. But then again, maybe not. I don't know.

    This is the third time this has happened in the course of the past year. And I think I'm going to take the hint. First, it was my best local friend. Something happened--I've a vague notion, but am not entirely sure, and she just stopped writing and calling me. Just stopped. Oh, she sent me a Christmas card, but not a peep from her since. She changed her mobile number, so I can't ring her up. She hasn't responded to my e-mails and cards. She's just dropped me like a hot rock. Another friend from a Dr Who forum did the same thing, often writing me, she and I were becoming friends, and then one day--nothing. She still "talks" to me, sometimes, on the site--but just a sentence, maybe a few words, nothing more, and not often.

    So, I'm taking the hint. I'm putting another brick in my wall. I will still care about the few friends I have--I'd never shut someone out because of what another person has done, but by God, I'm not going to allow myself to get close to anyone else. NO. It's just not worth it, you know?

    Oh, I will still be nice and all, and I won't shut myself off from new people--but, that said, I, from now on in, will have no more new friends. I won't give out my personal info to anyone, not ever. I'm tired of the hate. Of the meanness, the pettiness, the selfishness. People using me. People treating me like I'm invisible. No more. I'm building my own personal version of Hadrian's Wall. I will never date again. I won't allow myself to love. No one's ever going to love me, not in an unselfish way. I can't bring myself to believe that. That kind of love just doesn't happen, only in fairy tales, or to people who are nice-looking or trendy, or have normal, sane lives. People like me--we just get used. That's simply reality. That's the way the world works--always has. We get shoved out of having a normal life, an everyday existence.

    I mean, do people all the time, really go for tea or coffee? Do they hang out in bars with their best mates? Have friends and family over for dinner or a night at home? Go shopping together? Meet each other at fetes and festivals and just have a good time? Do women really go to the beauty pallor together? Do people go walking together? Sit around and play games?

    I wouldn't know. I've seldom had that pleasure, except with mum. One of the highlights of 2004, was when my friend(?) took me and this other friend of hers to an antique carriage auction in Pennslyvania for the weekend--we had so much fun. It was the only "normal" thing I've done in years. We stayed up half the night giggling over stuff, we had dinner together, talked about stuff, just enjoyed looking around at things--it was a genuine joy. I actually felt like a normal human being, that weekend. But...good things never last long, do they?

    Anyway, the wall's up. I will never stop caring about the friends I have. But, that said, I've decided I don't want any more that the one's I've already got. It's just not worth the heartache. The not knowing what I did to push them away. And maybe I don't want to know, might make me feel worse.

  • Who says they have short memories???

    I was just getting ready to hit the sack. I'd been going through my box of old photos, thinking to maybe put a few more on CD, when Flame ambled along, and sniffed the box. I held up a photo of mum: "Look Flame! I've got a picture of mommy!" I held it up to her. "Remember mommy flamey?"

    Do you know, she got all excited? She sniffed the pic up and down--got her face up to it and actually seemed to be staring at the photo. Then, I asked, "Do you remember mommy, Flame?" She jumped up, all aquiver, and TOUCHED THE PHOTO WITH HER PAW! Her eyes sparkled. I said, "Mommy's gone sweetie, but I know whereever she is, she still loves you, very much." Flame went, "rowr!" and, crouching down, wiggled her bottom and sprang off into the bedroom, joyfully.

    I know maybe she just thought I was playing with her, or maybe it was just the way I was speaking to her--but man, I don't think so. Flame, during mum's last days at home, stayed by her, morning, noon and night. Flame's a little nurse-cat. She's very caring and sensitive to upsets and illnesses. When I cam home from my stay at hospital, several weeks ago, Flame stayed right by me in bed the whole time I was recovering. Minute I felt better--she went off to sleep elsewhere. Flame's got her quirks, but she's a real sweetheart.

  • Dr Who Captions for Thrusday.


    His companions discover that the Doctor's bathing habits include showering in his suit, while singing American show tunes..."Ohhhh--kalhoma where the wind comes sweeping down the plaain---"


    "Rose, I know this is sonic, but I'm really getting tired of having to fetch it out of your bedroom."

  • First they take our jobs--NOW they spam us!!!

    Lovely. First the Chinese have taken millions and millions of American jobs from us (ala the friggin' Free-Trade Agreement), NOW some jerk from China is spamming my blog with links to crap that I don't want, can't afford, and simply don't give a damn about ever owning. Jerk.

    Blogs are for freedom of expression, they are a form of journal. Bogs are for being crative, for thinking, speaking your mind. Selling is not freedom of expression. Selling isn't about life and thought and the power of the written word. It's just..selling.

    I've got nothing against the Chinese as individual people, a great culture...but, gah! Get a REAL job--go clean some toilets and take out rubbish for a living, like I've been forced to do, go toddle off and do some actual WORK for a living boy, quit bothering the REAL bloggers, stop pissing off the adults, kid, there's a good little lad...

    The bad blogger is mp2playerswholesale or something like that.

  • De-tassel Hassle or, 15 minutes in Hell

    There is a Hell, and it's called telemarketing. Tonight I worked on calling people who signed up for a long-term membership, some even had made as many as half their payments, and stopped paying. Basically, collections calls.

    Half my calls tonight slammed the phone in my ear, the minute I said the words "_____club." 35 percent screamed at me, for: the computer dialing a wrong number, them not reading the fine print about the payment plan (Yeah, right. The club, out of the goodness of their hearts, is going to give these people 250 to 300 dollars of free gifts, AND a lifetime subscription to the magazine, for just 24 dollars? Okay, then...), got holler at for asking for a boy/girl friend who moved out and why am I calling--(because, stupid, they never told the club they moved), yelled at for daring to ask for them payment right then and there (albeit very, very politely), asking why I'm calling their child and (my info doesn't list age) why is he a member? (Doh--because he sent in a membership voucher without telling you?)..and on and on.

    Got the usual drunks and non-English speaking people (they can't speak a word of English but they get an English-only magazine? And subscribe for a long-term membership? Riiiight), the snarky wives, the assinine rednecks...the usual, in other words.

    But, the highlight of the night: getting a little old lady from Iowa at 9:57pm. Oh, I made the sale--at 10:08pm (quitting time is at 10)...but only after this old woman (she was nice, to be fair) yakked my ear off about how her and her family spent the last three days de-tasseling their corn...and I learned in that time, more than I ever possibly want to know, about the intricacies and hassles of detasseling corn

    Detasselling is a nasty job, usually done by teenagers or migrant farm workers. You only do it for seed corn or corn used for industrial purposes. The tassel in question that you must remove, is down in the plant still, covered by the leaves. Not the wavy stuff on top. And if the tassel is covered with slimy bugs--oh well, get over it. It's a wet, muddy job, only done while the dew is on the corn--sunrise to late morning. You can get "corn rash" from being in constant contact with the wet stalks. Detasselling is mostly done in the American mid-west, where the seed crops for major agricultural seed dealers orginate from: Iowa and Illinois, mainly.

    See, I learned stuff tonight! What the hell I'll ever use this info for--other than my blog, I've no clue whatsoever. Maybe I can incorporate it into a Dr Who story...the Doctor Does Iowa. The Taris lands in a corn field, but it's not really corn--it's really evil alien seeds that will be used to take over the human race. The Doctor saves the day by detassling the corn with nothing more than his sonic screwdriver and a wad of used chewing gum. Nahh--- :roll:

    So that's how I wound up putting in 15 minutes of Hell tonight, hearing a nice old woman prattle on about hassles of removing corn tassel buds. Lovely way to spend an evening, ey?

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