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So you bastards finally managed to convince me that I should try watching SGA. I hope you're satisfied, you've done what the crazy brownshirts couldn't. At this point, really, my reaction is thus:

( If you like SGA, maybe you might wanna not read anything I say about it just yet. )

BUT I AM BEING GOOD. I am giving it six episodes. I remain cautiously optimistic, and we'll see where I stand when episode six grinds to an eventual conclusion.

This could become even more twisted than my Sox-Fan-Roots-For-Cubs baseball preferences. I may very well end up hating this show but watching it anyway out of some kind of bizarre need to vent my frustration at the fact that she is seriously arguing with the longhair about a tea and death ceremony while the one intelligent character in the entire show is facing certain doom.

And furthermore, Gateship is a WAY cooler name than Puddlejumper.

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Jack and Ellis has been updated! Brisbane's untold wonders are about to open to our intrepid travelers. :D

Oddly enough, I can load my LJ now. I didn't do anything. It's all very strange. Thank you all for the hot dogs, though.

We had lunch at Pappadeaux before my parents dropped me at the airport. I had stuffed shrimp, which is sort of a misnomer -- it's shrimp wrapped in a thick crab, cornbread, and herb batter and fried. Oh my jesus that's good food. But it's more shrimp stuffed into stuff than stuff stuffed into shrimp.

Also, Weir, seriously, if you use "I don't have all the information" as an excuse for your inability to make command decisions one more time, I will hit you in the face with Wikipedia. ALL OF IT. EVEN THE STUBS.

(no subject)

The "Captain's Blog" for From Out Of The Rain has gone up on the beeb-america Torchwood website.

Consensus: The "Staff" portion should be renamed "Porn Prompts". Y/Y?

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I'm safe at the flat.

God bless the boy, he cleaned. He cleaned the whole flat, the kitchen and the stove and the living room and the hallway full of stuff. Either that or he got That Girl to do it.

And he left out a bottle of Kahlua with a note reading "Have a drink."

I am going to do as he says, and then read myself to sleep. Now I remember why I don't do these weekend jaunts. They kill me dead.