The Blank Page

Sherlock: A Scandal in Belgravia

raysgal — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 16:59:57 GMT

I will say now that this post will contain spoilers and ramblings.

Do not go further if you've not seen the episode.

I'm going to state this now. This episode was not everything it could be. It was not the stupendous and marvelous and wonderful thing that people were describing.
I did not feel that after a year and a half this is what the episode should have been.
I was disappointed, bored and very, very annoyed.

Firstly, I'd like to say that I did not enjoy Irene Adler. Okay, well, I would have liked Irene Adler if Moffat hadn't pushed the whole sex thing. Seriously. Irene is Sherlock's intellectual equal in playing the game they play, which is a whole lot different than Moriarty playing with Sherlock and we will get to that. Instead Moffat says we'll make her a dominatrix and then get all pushy on Sherlock who I'd really like to think is not a virgin because he's probably had sex to understand motives behind crimes and whatnot.
Okay. Maybe not. But I don't think he'd be as flustered around Irene. I really don't believe so.
And then to make Irene gay and to have Sherlock as her exception. Especially how it was displayed in this episode was slightly bothersome.
*sighs*
That last bit is sorta understandable because while John keeps denying left and right that he's gay doesn't mean he doesn't have some kind of interest in Sherlock. He's worried about the man most definitely by indicated so many times during this episode. His life certainly revolves around Sherlock. And there are just many moments that the two have that speak on so many levels that it makes it easy to say the two definitely have a thing.

Though I suppose my biggest problem really is just how Moffat writes women or anything to do with them. They are apparently one of two things: sex kittens or housewives. Or both. (Look at Amy and River in Doctor Who.)

Another problem that I have with this episode is that everything about just seems so off. I don't know what it is, but it's like Moffat is retracting things about John and Sherlock. Like rewriting each character a bit differently than he did in the first series. I wanted a see a natural progression, but it seems like there's a backtrack. Perhaps it's just me, but I really think Moffat and Gatiss need to rewatch the first three episodes again.

Now down to business.
WHAT THE HELL WAS THE POOL SCENE!!!
That was one of the worst letdowns a cliffhanger has ever given me. I would have accepted any of the following: an explosion, shooting, Mycroft showing up or even the TARDIS appearing to scoop up Sherlock and John.
Anything else most likely would have been fine, but Moriarty getting the call then just strolling out of there without Sherlock trying to shoot him or even John trying to do. Moriarty just left.
I was disappointed. I truly was.
And there wasn't even a follow up where John and Sherlock talked about or even hinted at what the hell happened for the rest of the episode. Not one mention that could have made me happy. It's like Moffat believed that it didn't warrant a discussion. Just like he does on Doctor Who. The whole thing was ignored and that pisses me off.
John was kidnapped, strapped to a bomb vest and Sherlock thought for one moment that John might have Moriarty. My gosh! How does that not earn a scene of just staring at each other then some kind of hug or shared cup of tea of relief. I know that they did the little joke thing at the end of "The Great Game", but that was then and this is now.

I was amused my the montage thing. Sort of. I kinda wish we had seen more of those cases. Like "The Geek Interpreter" because if you read the write-up on John's blog he and Sherlock dressed up like ninjas. I want to see that.
However, the montage was apparently there to distract me from the fact there was a crap resolution at the pool. Oh, I guess it was also to establish that Sherlock was getting more recognition and what not.
I did enjoy the one headline 'Hat-Man and Robin'. I want art of that. And I also think that the hat John wore was really one of Martin Freeman's own.

Sherlock having conversations with John when this he is not there. Makes me wonder what else Sherlock talks to John about when John is not there. Is that why he gets really annoyed when John goes out on dates? Because he believed they already had one, but it was one of those conversations Sherlock had when John wasn't there? (And that's a reason why I believe they've got a thing.)

The Buckingham Palace scene...it had cuteness. They were like two schoolboys waiting to see the principal. And dear gosh did John stare a long time at sheet wearing Sherlock. He was totally checking Sherlock out. Normally a person will just glance at the other, but that was significant. Seriously.

"Just once can you two behave like grown-ups?"
"We solve crimes. I blog about it. And he forgets his pants. I wouldn't hold out too much hope."
I went back just a few seconds to hear that dialogue a few times.

Then John doesn't care whether or Sherlock is clothed. He just wants to avoid arguments. That's pretty much his job. Keep Sherlock from getting punched unless he's the one doing it because subtext and horseplay.

And of course John stared at Irene who is naked. Everyone who is mostly normal and not used to people parading around in the nude would stare. I'd stare.

I loved how Sherlock and John jumped on Mycroft who was being rude/mean to Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock and John protect Mrs. Hudson big time and she's gonna protect her boys. She's like the new Mrs. Cunninghamn.

The Christmas scene was a bit awkward and random. Awkward in the sense like they just kinda jammed it in there for a progression of time thing. I did love John's sweater and Lestrade's reaction to Molly. Though Molly really needs to stop holding out for Sherlock. And where is her reaction to finding out just who Moriarty is? I needed to see that. Where is that, Moffat? You think I'm just gonna forget she was dating Moriarty for a bit? Geez, apparently Moffat and Gatiss think I'm going to forget/ignore/move on from a lot of things.

Oh, and I think Sherlock would recognize a lot of people from not their face. It's part of his job.

"All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock."
Yeah, well, f*ck you, Mycroft. (Then he redeemed himself like two seconds like when he called John.)

"He will out live God trying to have the last word." Oh, John.

"We're not a couple."
"Yes, you are."
Stop denying it, John. You're just making me sad now.

Sherlock followed John. That says so many things that I can't even start describing them right now.

F*ck you, Irene. Working with Moriarty. And then f*cking up Mycroft's day/night.

And here's Mycroft being uber creepy. I hated the whole plane scene so much. In the sense that it was a really good Doctor Who scene like from "Blink" or "Midnight" or something from one of the Library episodes (where it's scary and not where River is being obnoxious).

Now, who in one period of there life hasn't said "F*ck it. I'm gonna be a pirate."?

I want to know who was really lying to who. Because there were so many levels of it in the cafe scene followed by the bit in the flat. There was some hardcore lying going down and I don't know if it was all of them. Or there was some code thing happening between John and Sherlock or what. All I know is that their little triangle had someone lying to someone.

Overall, the episode had its moments, but that's it. I would not rate the whole thing as excellent. I was too bothered by Irene and the lack of resolution from "The Great Game". There were too many overlooked plot points because Moffat was trying to be clever. I saw a lack of proper characterization and too many unclear things.
This episode was not worth the wait, but I watched it all the way through. And I will watch the other two because I'm still a fan.

raysgal — Sat, 16 Apr 2011 02:02:21 GMT

Round One is just starting. Apply to join here!

If there's not enough Doctor Who in your life and you want to be creative while enjoying it then this is the place for you. I'm on Team Adipose, but you can join the Daleks, Cybermen or Weeping Angels.

DW Fic: I Am Who You Are to Me

raysgal — Tue, 28 Dec 2010 02:00:20 GMT

A little fic I wrote for a doctor_rose_fix challenge. It was a bit too long for the comment thread and I didn't want to cut it apart.

Rose slid out of bed and grabbed her robe. The alarm hadn’t gone off and it really shouldn’t have, considering it was the weekend. Except she couldn’t sleep. In fact she barely had last night. Now all she could do was stand in their bedroom and stare at his bare back.

His bare back that shared the evidence of yet another close escape. Really yet another one of his stupid acts to protect her because apparently she was still fragile. She wasn’t fragile. She had stopped being fragile years ago. She faced down Daleks. She was not a porcelain doll.

He just had it ingrained in him to keep her safe. A promise he’d made her mother in another universe. When he wore a leather jacket and couldn’t give her the words so she’d know what she meant to him. He said them every day now. He said them reverently, laughingly and with such passion that Rose had a hard time staying angry with him for very long.

She could worry about him though. He was a man. He had one heart. He couldn’t regenerate into a new body or heal almost instantaneously. This was it and after four years he still did not understand that. Occasionally, he’d be annoyed that he nicked himself shaving or hate that this body needed sleep. And, so, she worried. She reminded him about the human things he might have forgotten and he accepted the teachings at her hands with awe and humility, which was a new facet of his personality.

“Come back to bed,” he mumbled as he tried to pull up the comforter she had pushed aside, but found it difficult after discovering that it was tangled in his legs. He gave up and just pressed into his pillow again. “We could have sex again.”

“Oh, yes, Doctor,” Rose replied. “Because I love having sex with my half-awake husband. It’s not like he’ll fall asleep on me then start drooling.”

“That was one time,” the Doctor returned. “And I blame it the medication your mum gave me. I rather believe she was trying to kill me.”

“You complained of a stomachache and she was trying to help,” Rose responded. “Just go back to sleep.”

She watched as he rolled over and peered up at her with his sleepy chocolate eyes. Rose bit her bottom lip as her eyes flickered to the one scratch that had extended to his front. Even as they faded she would never forget his blood on her fingers or his expression of pain. Rose had her fair share of scars she acquired during her separation from the Doctor, but she never wished them on him and yet it seemed like he was trying to play catch up.

“Rose?” His voice was gentle and curious.

“Go back to sleep,” she told him. “I’m going to go make some tea.”

“I’ll help.” The Doctor rolled out of bed with a yawn then ran a hand through his hair, which didn’t help at all to flatten the bits that had taken a life of their own.

Rose smiled softly and ran the fingers on her right hand through it herself. She knew he was watching with an inquisitive expression. Her fingers gently slid down his sideburn then he took them in his hand and kissed them.

“Something’s bothering you,” he observed. “Care to tell me about it?”

“It’s nothing,” Rose answered. “I just couldn’t sleep. It’s why I’m making tea. Then I’ll probably curl up with a book. Don’t usually get to read when I’m busy chasing down aliens.”

“What if this alien wants to do something?” The Doctor asked with a teasing grin. “I was thinking maybe the dollar cinema. There’s a silly alien movie we can laugh and throw popcorn at.”

“Perhaps tomorrow,” Rose replied as she pulled her hand away from the Doctor and turned towards the bedroom door. “I just want tea and a book today.”

She didn’t get a chance to leave the room as his hands wrapped around her waist and his strong arms pulled her into his bare chest. She bit her bottom lip glad he couldn’t see the tears that were forming in her eyes. Rose only wanted to leave the room and not have to look at him again until he had a shirt on because then for a moment she could imagine the scars didn’t exist.

“The Rose Tyler I know would not turn down an opportunity to see a terrible movie. It’s like your mother throwing away a chance to insult me because I simply walked into the room.”

“My mum’s not that bad,” Rose responded in a shaky tone.

“Your mum’s not the point here,” the Doctor said. “Something is bothering you and I’d rather like to get to the bottom of it before you end up coming to some conclusion that has me on the curb simply because of the fact I’m a terrible husband for not noticing what’s wrong with my wife.”

Rose took in a deep breath then pushed away from the Doctor and turned around to face him. He frowned at her red eyes and angry expression.

“Stop being a hero,” Rose told him.

“What?”

“Stop being a hero,” Rose repeated. “Four years and you’re still jumping into the middle of the fray. You’re still putting yourself in front of me. You’re still trying to protect me when I know perfectly well how to protect myself.”

“Rose, I…”

“You are not going to tell me you’re sorry and that’s who you are,” Rose interrupted angrily. “I do not want to come home one day without you because you were too thick to think of a proper plan or to even consider the protocol involved. And I’m bloody tired of you just shrugging off another injury since you’ve somehow managed to equate that in your thick skull with accomplishing the mission.”

“Rose, I don’t think that,” the Doctor stated. “Not one bit. I’m not the fire and rage the other Doctor described on the beach. I’m not looking to settle some score with the universe and hurt you at the same time. I intend in living out the rest of my life with you, Rose.” He reached out a hand, but she averted it by taking a step away. It fell limply by his side. “Rose, I’m only doing what my hero would.”

“Your hero?” Rose returned, running a hand across her eyes. “What the bloody hell does your hero have to do with anything? I told you not to read those comic books with Tony. They aren’t real, Doctor.”

“I’m not stupid, Rose. I know the difference between fiction and reality. And I’m not talking about Superman or Batman. I’m talking about you. You’re my hero, Rose Tyler.”

Rose felt her knees go weak a bit at his words and leaned in the doorframe. She thought for a minute he was joking, but there was no quirk the lips or tell-tale twinkle in his eyes that usually accompanied his teasing. He was serious.

“I don’t understand,” Rose finally managed to say. “How can I be your hero? I’m just me.”

“And you couldn’t be anymore you, Rose. You’ve given me someone to look up to since the beginning. You were just nineteen when I met you and ready to give your life up because some lonely, angry Time Lord with a compulsion for leather and jumpers was about to end his. Then I admired you for turning me down the first time. I wouldn’t have want to spend any time gallivanting through time and space with someone like the ninth me either, but when I came back and you said yes everything just clicked. I might have showed you what the universe had to offer, but you showed me what life still had to give.

“I was the last, Rose Tyler. I still am in my own way. He’s still out there traveling amongst the stars and visiting planets to stop some injustice, but he’s only out there because you gave him the strength to keep going. You give me strength each day to live this life. To be me and this new person I want to be. And I keep doing it because you did it after you were pulled into this universe, you found the strength to keep going without me. You found a way to come back to me. You’ll stand up for what’s right even if it means you’ll get hurt in the process.”

The Doctor let out a strangled laugh then threaded his fingers through his hair.

“I’m not sure how else to say it, Rose. I know you get upset when I throw myself in the line of fire, but I don’t just do it because that’s my nature and once upon a time I could just regenerate if I was too gravely injured. I do it because I know you would. And you have.” He gestured towards the scars she was trying not to look at. “These, Rose, are nothing to me. They may cause you pain, but that’s because you don’t let people take on a burden on their own. You apologized to me for what happened to Jack and said if we ever figured out a way to send a message across to him you’d do it again despite the fact I told you he and I talked about it and he’s accepted it. You cried with me about Donna. You sat me down and told me to share with you whatever I was feeling whenever I wanted to. You’re the person I aspire to be, Rose. You have this amazing compassion, Rose, to share everything from your life to your love with a broken Time Lord turned half-human. You made me better and if I have to collect a few scars to show you want you mean to me then so be it.”

“That’s not fair,” Rose said.

“What’s not?” The Doctor asked.

“I’m supposed to be angry at you for throwing yourself around like this universe’s personal target, but all I want to do is kiss you for saying all those beautiful words so I’d understand where you’re coming from.”

“You could do both,” the Doctor suggested. “Though I’d really prefer that you weren’t angry. I like a smiley, happy Rose. She’d agree to see a terrible movie and throw popcorn at the screen with me.”

Rose let out a giggle and the Doctor smiled. He moved closer to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You know instead of doing either of our ideas we could just compromise and stay in the bedroom,” the Doctor told her.

“How is that a compromise?” Rose asked.

“Well, you get to see my naked body and I get to see yours. Nobody has to stand in front of a hot stove to make tea and we won’t have to put clothes to go to the theatre. Mostly I’ll just get to worship at the temple of my goddess.”

“I thought I was your hero,” Rose returned.

“Oh, but goddess is much better,” the Doctor informed her as he undid the tie on Rose’s robe then proceeded to kiss her bare shoulder. “I still look upon you with the same awe and wonder, but as a worshipper of said goddess, I’ll do anything you ask.”

“That does sound better than a book,” Rose whispered. “But I’ll have you know I’m still annoyed about the hero thing. Not you calling me one, but you trying to be one.”

“Can we discuss that after I rock your world?” The Doctor asked, nuzzling into her neck.

“Might be a little difficult for you to accomplish that,” Rose responded.

He leaned back and looked at her with an eyebrow raised in question. “How so?”

“Because you already have. Since the day I met you, Doctor, you’ve done just that. I fail to see how you can one up yourself.”

“Let it be said that I never back down from a challenge,” the Doctor retorted with a sly grin before kissing his wife quite thoroughly.

Austin Comic Con Round-Up

raysgal — Tue, 16 Nov 2010 04:03:27 GMT

So, I had an interesting weekend.

How so?

Well, I got a hug from Ernie Hudson. I also got an autograph and a picture with him.

I told Nicholas Brendan that he should punch Chris O'Donnell while he was filming NCIS: LA in his backyard because the original Robin will always be cooler than him.

And I babbled at Walter Koenig about getting around to watch Babylon 5 (I was 9 when it first came out and not in control of the TV remote) and I also promised him I'd buy the new comic book he had coming out.

I listened to Lou Ferrigno talk about body building and being the original Hulk.

I heard Burt Ward use the word 'heinous' a time too many in forty-five minute panel.

I stared at Peter Mayhew who looks remarkably like Chewbacca.

And I was totally relaxed as Billy Dee Williams spoke to us about not being smooth. (Such a liar.)

I would post captions under the pictures, but frankly I just feel too lazy to do it right now. If you've got a question about one then just ask. I'll do my best to answer them.

Weird Al....THE BEST CONCERT EVER!!!

raysgal — Sun, 18 Jul 2010 17:49:02 GMT

I saw Weird Al last night at the Verizon Wireless Theater in Houston. I have never seen him in concert. I've watched him on TV, I borrowed a concert DVD and constantly listened to his songs at home. I have just never seen him in concert and it wasn't for a lack of trying either.

I finally had the chance when I saw his tour was coming to Houston. I quickly snagged a ticket. Yes, only one because at the price I got one at there was no way I was gonna get two.

Anyway, yesterday rolls around and I'm off. Well, not exactly like that, but those aren't the details you're looking for. (Get it? It's like "These aren't the droids you're..."...oh, I've lost you, haven't I? Sorry.)

So he starts of the show with a polka medley that includes songs from Lady Gaga, Pink, Justin Bieber, Katy Perry and a couple of others that I can't remember. Those are the ones that stuck out mostly because he made Justin Bieber tolerable through polka. Thank you, Weird Al.

Then the real fun began. There were costume changes galore. I've never been to a concert with so many costume changes. And during the costume changes on the screen they played some "interviews" he did and clips where he's appeared or been mentioned in various shows. He sang classic songs, newer hits and some very recent songs that you can find on either his site or probably YouTube because he has yet to put them on CD. (At least I'm pretty sure he hasn't.)

And then after the concert people wandered back to his tour buses and he signed autographs. (And there were pictures, but I wanted the autogrpah.) He signed my ticket and I was trying to say words to him except it came out as random noises. He looked at me and asked if I was okay. I told him no, he touched my elbow and said thank you and I hightailed it out of there because I was afraid to be more inarticulate around the man.

Since I had such an awesome seat I was able to take plenty of pictures. Many, many pictures.
Check 'em out.

DW Fic: She Won't Let Him be Soleless

raysgal — Tue, 13 Jul 2010 04:33:26 GMT

A little fic I wrote for the newest then_theres_us challenge. It was a bit too long for the comment thread and I didn't want to cut it apart.

TITLE: She Won't Let Him be Soleless
AUTHOR: raysgal
PAIRING: Ten/Rose
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Has not been beta'd because I have to find a Doctor Who beta reader.
Based upon this piture...

Rose looked at her companion then back out at the water.

“Where’s your shoe?”

Her companion looked down at his feet and frowned as if just noticing he had lost his left shoe.

“I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted. “I was in a bit of a rush when I left the TARDIS. I think it was enough that I remembered my trousers.”

Rose smiled.

“I wouldn’t have complained if you’d forgotten them,” Rose told him.

“What? My trousers?”

“Yeah. There were days when we’d walk around the TARDIS naked. You’d say there was nothing to be ashamed of because the naked body was a thing of beauty then you regretted your decision after our trip to the nude beach on Varxiss.”

“I never thought I could burn, well, there.”

Rose smiled again then looked down at the sand. She twirled her finger in the sparkling grains and listened as the waves crashed in front of her.

“How long has it been, Doctor?” Rose inquired.

“Not long,” the Doctor answered. “I made it though. And the TARDIS is fine. Just needs a bit of a rest before moving again.”

“How long?” Rose repeated.

“Almost a hundred years,” he informed her. “I very nearly gave up. Jack was quite encouraging. If encouraging actually means attempting to beat someone senseless, that is. And he only did that when I tried to…”

His words trailed off and Rose looked at him once again. His face was gaunt and the despair it held said everything he couldn’t. She wasn’t quite sure what to do next with him or even for him.

“I should really go find my shoe,” the Doctor stated as he lifted his shoeless foot. “Some wayward child might steal it and use it for their sandcastle. A strange sandcastle, but children do use whatever they can find for even a moment of enjoyment. I quite envy them for that.”

“You have landed on a popular beach,” Rose commented. “And ruined my vacation.”

“Oh. Sorry. I could come back. Just name a time.”

“I just want to know you’re not another hallucination,” Rose returned. “And that you aren’t leaving without me.”

“I believe if I were a hallucination that I’d be a bit more dashing instead of being quite daft and losing a shoe then talking about sandcastles. I’m sure when you’ve hallucinated about me I was wearing a tuxedo or at least a sandless suit and then I’d kiss you quite thoroughly considering I haven’t done so for many, many years before giving you the ring I was going to give you after we had finished our work at Torchwood. After that we’d bid your mother farewell and return to the proper universe.”

“I never imagined a ring,” Rose said.

“There is one,” the Doctor responded. He began to pat his pockets then stuck his hand in an inner suit pocket, but quickly pulled it back out. He let out a frustrated sound. “It’s back on the TARDIS, but since you’re going to be in it soon I think it’s perfectly safe there.”

“I’m coming with you?”

The Doctor turned his head and stared at her with an incredulous look.

“You are, aren’t you?”

“It’s tempting,” Rose told him. “But I’m having a wonderful time on this beach, I’m quite respected at my job and my little brother is expecting me to be at his birthday party on Saturday. He is turning five.”

“I could stay here,” he offered. “A new universe to explore and everything. Could be fun.”

“You’d hate it. And then you’d hate me. On top of that the TARDIS quite probably wouldn’t like it anymore than you would.”

“You may have a point,” the Doctor conceded. “There’s something wrong about this universe. It’s…” He furrowed his brow and looked back out over the beach, “off. The taste, the time. It’s all off. And I’m certain that a week here would drive me spare before I’d have to leave. Two weeks at most.”

“Are you giving me two weeks?” Rose asked.

“It was a suggested time frame,” the Doctor told her with a shrug. “To make your decision or to get your affairs in order. Whatever it may be. Take a month if you must. No more than six. I’m not sure I’d be able to take your mother for more than six months.”

“What if I said a year?” Rose inquired.

“Then I’d ask if we could institute a naked day at least twice a week and that tea with your mum only occur once a month unless under the penalty of a Tyler slap.”

“Hers or mine?”

“Hers, of course.”

“Of course,” Rose agreed. “Would you really wait for me a year?”

“I waited a hundred, Rose, and I made a terrible re-entrance into your life. A year is really just a grain of sand on the beach that is my existence.”

Rose crinkled her nose and the Doctor curled his own lip.

“Did you really just say that?”

“Yes. Yes, I did. I should really stop blurting out whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it’s really quite embarrassing.”

“Or endearing,” Rose offered.

“To you, perhaps. And that it was endearing enough that you won’t make me wait a year.”

Rose pushed herself to her feet and wiped the sand off her bikini bottom then held her hand out.

“We should find your shoe,” Rose said. “You look daft with only one.”

“And after that?”

“After that we’re going to back to my hotel room and enjoying the rest of the day in the nude.”

The Doctor grinned.

The Seven Day Meme - Day 06

raysgal — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 04:33:49 GMT

day 01 | a song
day 02 | a picture
day 03 | a book/ebook/fanfic
day 04 | a site
day 05 | a youtube clip
day 06 | a quote
day 07 | whatever tickles your fancy

I'm gonna post a couple of quotes because I can and there's nothing you can do about it.

I remember you and recall you without effort, without exercise of will; that is, by natural impulse, indicated by a sense of duty, or of obligation. And that, I take it, is the only sort of remembering worth the having. When we think of friends, and call their faces out of the shadows, and their voices out of the echoes that faint along the corridors of memory, and do it without knowing why save that we love to do it, we content ourselves that friendship is a Reality, and not a Fancy -- that it is built upon a rock, and not upon the sands that dissolve away with the ebbing tides and carry their monuments with them. –Douglas Fairbanks

We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless--of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life? Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse." That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be? -John Keating

Austin...Just Austin

raysgal — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 16:59:09 GMT

I drove to Austin yesterday to see Rob Riggle at Emo's. It took about three hours and I got there way before the show was supposed to start so I got to walk around for a little bit. Apparently there was a football game happening because I have never seen so many orange shirts with longhorns on them in my life.

So, I'll just skip to before the show. I was amongst about seven people waiting for the doors to open at eight. Some girls told me to avoid some guy and I impressed them with my visit to NY where I met Stephen and the like.
A little after eight we're let in. I went directly to go sit down in the second row. I would have sat in the first, but I didn't want to crane my neck the entire night.
This lady sits next to me and starts bitching about the people asking at the door for her ID despite the fact she was clearly of age. The lady then proceeds to talk to me for the rest of the night and even occasionally during sets.
What was cool was that there was this girl who looked exactly like America Ferrara (the girl from Ugly Betty) sitting about two seats over. I asked her how many times she got mistaken for her and she made a joke about it having been at least twenty four hours. She was cool.

Okay, now for the show stuff. The first guy really sucked. His entire thing was about McDonald's. He danced and said stuff about Big Macs. I didn't get it. And only like ten people laughed.
The next guy was pretty decent. He made fun of people being younger than him and hanging out with the emo/punk bands at the Vans Warped Tour. I laughed a few times.

Then there was a break before Rob and Janeane came out saying they were gonna flip a coin to see who went first. Rob won and then Janeane introduced him as Emmy nominated Rob Riggle. (I'm guessing that's why I didn't see him afterward. He had to get some sleep or hop a plane to LA for the Emmy show.)
Rob is hilarious. He shared the experience of going to the bathroom at the stadium. He talked about his near death experience where he was naked and wet. That was a wonderful image. He talked about going to a Japanese restaurant and being ready to kill the cook. His impression of his wife was the ghetto version. He talked about this guy who dry humped luggage coming off the luggage thing in the airport. That was funny. He ogled the lady in front of my for the sake of the bit he was doing, but since she was right in front of me I pretended he was staring at me. I just loved everything though.

Then Janeane did her bit. I was slightly disappointed because I expected more political stuff.
I also noticed she was short.
Her thing was cute and she trailed off a few times after being distracted.
She was still funny and I'm glad that I got to see her.

Then I got home a little after three in the morning and went directly to sleep.

Pic Spam!!!

raysgal — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 02:24:12 GMT

I'm bored.
And I'm a dork.
And my uncle is watching television really loud in the other room while I watch a new episode of Law and Order: Criminal Intent.

Now, I'm gonna watch Joan Rivers get roasted. That might be funny.

Tons of pictures behind the cut. I mean lots. I told you I was bored.

So...there.
I'm gonna go back to watch TV. Maybe I'll write some more. I made some headway on this zombie idea I had.
Later.

Private Stephen T. Colbert

raysgal — Tue, 19 May 2009 23:22:32 GMT

These are some of the most awesomest pictures on the face of the planet. Share them with the rest of the world.