03 January, 2011


Some days writing something here is not a top priority - like when you need to go save the world from being blown up by megalomaniacs or when you've been royally summoned by the current monarch of Terebinthia or when there's been a dalek invasion or when someone is trying to bring cybermen back to life and the Doctor's no where in sight. Then there are the times the Queen has ordered you to go on a super-secret mission and you might disappear for weeks; times SG10 have lost their DHD and can't dial home from a hostile planet and need rescuing; times Atlantis is under attack again and Rodney McKay has accidentally been locked in a room that he is having trouble getting out of because there is a saboteur fighting him over the network systems; times Brennan and Beckett have gotten themselves kidnapped, into deep water and you're the only person who can tell Booth and Castle where to find them - then there's the trouble of getting through the bad guys to get to them. There are also the times when the toilet falls apart or you've forgotten to muck out the chickens' stalls and feed or water them for three days and they are in danger of dying or the washing machine is bubbling or the microwave blew up or the pressure cooker blew up or you just plum need some rest from all the work you've been doing (such as the above).

Yeah. Sometimes this becomes a much less priority when you have to fight to keep your job and to avoid having to repeat a whole 4 years of training all over again... and haven't been well for the entirety of the first holiday longer than a day that you've had this year. Ok. So what if I'm exaggerating? You get the gist.

It's not like anybody bothers even staring at my ants marching across the screen. I mean, where does that get fun? No colours, no pretty pictures, just using your imagination to see the landscape from the top of the steep cliff where the clouds are your neighbours, icy breezes comb their fingers through your hair and below you... well. Below you are clouds of green. Like the tops of broccoli. A whole sea of them. They could well be a mass of green-dyed, afro-style hair-dos. Every now and then, a warmer whiff of air rises from below and brings the smell of wet earth, growing things and ammonia. From this position, you can see the edge of the forest and what direction you should be going in, but once beneath the trees you know you are likely to lose all sense of orientation as the sun goes hides behinds layers and layers of clouds, dooming you to wander lost in the bush/forest for the rest of the days of your life - forcing you to become a wildman/woman that scavenges and fights with the animals for survival in this place so unlike the city with its shops and fast food. You don't even know what plants are likely to be edible, much less animals and you don't even want to think of what insects might taste like, although the thought of grubs and giant beetles is beginning to seem rather meaty - more and more edibly appetising. This thought makes you want to cry. You might never see your new yellow Bumblebee car again.

It's like when we had DOS. Everything was words on the screen and you couldn't even scroll to see what it said before. If you forgot the instructions from the screen before, well, too bad. Either you had to repeat the command and read 200 words per second or you just made something up and went with the flow. Now we can have multiple windows, scroll up and down and even have dinky things like hyperlinks in the form of a picture button thing. Guess times change.

So this is me ranting. Ranting for no particular reason. Crying to deaf ears that cannot hear me through this screen and to blind eyes who will read this post and do a double take. 'What is this mad woman going on about? She can't even spell appetising right!' Americans and their obsession with being different from the rest of the world. I don't have to spell it with a 'z' if I don't want to, ok? I'm feeling particularly stubborn today, so don't get me in the mood - cos I will fight you with a chainsaw. Maybe an axe. Or a sword and shield. Shield would be a good idea. Ok then. A longbow. Nah. Machine gun would be better. Over faster and less way you can run and hide.

Listen to me talk! I am in a murderous mood aren't I? I may have to run and hide from myself if that keeps up. I have found the majority of the Series 5 Doctor Who transcripts here: http://jpgr.livejournal.com/ But you will have to trawl through their archives to get it. I don't like their journal set up, because you can't search through past posts easily, but who am I to judge? It's not like my blog's set up any better. Still looking for 'A Christmas Carol' transcript. I've got all the other transcripts for the new Doctor Who to date. You can find them somewhere if you search google. There's a guy that has done 2005+ and has an archive of the classic series as well. I think. Go find it yourself. I can't be bothered right now finding out his web address (largely because I haven't yet learnt how to make links in HTML yet). I'll get to it one day. If anyone finds someone who has transcripts for the tv series Castle, please let me know. I'll be happy to hear from you.

For a long long day
And a long long night
We can sing this song
Give ourselves a fright
Until we're sick of it
And will have a fit
At least it's not
'This is a song that never ends...'

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