Who’s a bit regal?

So… Earlier this week England’s future King – Prince George Alexander Louis of Cambridge – was born.

He’s lovely (obviously. I mean, look at his parents). He’s the spitting image of Prince William – even down to the amount of hair he has on his head (or not on his head, more like) – and I have no doubt in my mind that he will grow up to be an utter heart-throb.

I used to have a massive, unwavering, royal crush on Prince William when I was young; like 99% of pre-pubescent and pubescent young girls in the late 1990s/early 2000s.

Now, with my fully developed love of red-heads, I’m more of a Prince Harry kind of gal.

Anyway…!

My point is… Erm… Something like…

I found this the other day and it made me “LOL”:

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There really is a Doctor Who link to everything, if you look hard enough.

That’s about, really.

Happy Sunday!

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Who’s wishing?

I wish I could see Karen Gillan’s shaved head for myself.

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I wish I was sat in the audience whilst Matt Smith discussed leaving Doctor Who (so I could cry uncontrollably and speculate with other Whovians who will be next in line).

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Basically, I wish I was at Comic-Con International.

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But I’m not.

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I’m sad.

Who’s going to get their lazy on?

So… In England we’re in the middle of a heat wave. When I say “heat wave” I mean… Well, what we’re experiencing is probably normal or ‘quite cool’ for parts of Australia and America but for us, moaning, ‘used-to-rain-and-misery’, English people; it’s too hot to do anything but sit inside in shorts, drink tea, slob around watching Doctor Who and complain about how uncomfortably hot it is… Whilst forgetting that 3 weeks ago when it last rained, we complained about how cold it was.

So… Yeah. That’s what I plan to do today:

Sit inside in shorts (big baggy ones), drink tea, slob around watching Doctor Who and complain about how uncomfortably hot it is… Whilst forgetting that 3 weeks ago when it last rained, I complained about how cold it was.

I think I’ll start with Rose Tyler’s last episode with Ten. That way, whilst I’m sobbing my eyes out as they lean, faces pressed against opposing sides of the same white wall in parallel universes, longing for each other and knowing they will never again experience each other’s lustful gaze (until that moment at the end at Bad Wolf Bay); I’ll have something else to complain about…

How much I miss Ten and Rose!

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Now I have to go… I’ve upset myself at the mere thought of it. Don’t judge me. I’m English. I’m not happy unless I’m complaining!

Role on 50.

Who’s complaining?

I’m an Englishwoman;
I moan when it’s cold
and I moan when it’s hot.
I moan when I’m bored
and I moan when I’m not.

I miss the team
and I miss their missions
I miss the moral themes
and I miss the fantastical visions.

Come back Doctor-man,
The soonest you can, too;
I’m a moaning Englishwoman
and I’m lost without you!