Jack was sat in that underground thing in Wales and suddenly he saw that LJ had gone down.
"What the shit?" screamed Jack, unable to catch up with his flist or post scurrilous lies about what Toshiko wore under her clothes on Thursdays.
"Whatever shall I do now?" he wondered. "I know," he said to himself, "I shall shag Ianto."
So Jack went and looked for Ianto. He looked in the loo, he looked in the kitchen, he looked in the cupboard under the stairs.
"I was hiding," said Ianto, when Jack finally found him under a lampshade, "in case Owen killed me like the crazy bastard we all know he is."
"It's okay," said Jack, tears at the corners of his manly eyes. "I would never let crazy bastard Owen kill you. I would do it myself, with a loving hand."
Speaking of which, Jack demonstrated by shoving his hand down Ianto's trousers and having a quick fumble.
"Oh, how I love you," sighed Ianto.
"Whatever," said Jack, "let's get it on."
Vox is shit. I know this because the comments format is lame. What is
the point of a bloggy thing if you can't have conversations nicely
threaded in the comments. WELL? Vox is for people are either evil or
stupid, or maybe both. What kind of sick freaks would okay this site
schemeness?
There is red in my hair. The red of despair about how much I miss LJ.
The only good thing on Vox is that woman's epic letter about how much she loves David Tennant. Did you know his middle name is Angela? Fuckin well is. I am just typing shit here to make it feel like I am on LJ right now. I know that I am not, but I can't stop myself.
Oh David Angela Tennant. Your love is as the love of a small boy for a Twix, or a kitten for a dead mouse. How your manly hands seduce my soul and beget a hormonal stirring in my loins.
I love to gaze at pictures of you, especially your wonky eye. The way it seems to follow some vision only it can capture. And your off-centre nose, pointing towards perhaps spiritual enlightenment. I don't even mind that your family was Orange in the past, for clearly they have mended their ways. You are exactly as feebly agnostic as befits a child of the Church of Scotland.
I love your many accents. Your native one and that weird imperialist thing the BBC hath forced upon thee. In no way does it wander slightly, and even if it did it would be hella sexay.
I would seduce thee in the manner of thy native Paisley. A bottle of Buckfast and a witty line like "Get yer coat, son, ye've pulled." Because you are sophisticated and cultured. Cultured like flowers or darling bumblebees.
If only LJ were not gone... no, wait, I am proclaiming my love.
David Angela Tennant, I think of you night and day, though mostly at night what with the many erotic dreams you inspire in my tiny woman-brain. I long to have your babies. Please tell me where you live so that I can send you a jar and some pornography and you can do your thing. We will call the babies Rose, Mickey and Jack, and David II.
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I HATE VOX. I CAN'T MAKE IT WORK. I HAD TO READ THE INSTRUCTIONS LIKE A WOMANTHING.
I AM CAPS BECAUSE LJ IS GONE FROM THE INTERNETS AND WITHOUT IT THERE IS NO REASON FOR OUR EXISTENCE.
FACE IT, WE ARE ALL FUCKED. FUCKED LIKE WILDEBEATS WHO SEE LIONS APPROACHING FROM AFAR.
ARG. VOX IS SHIT. IT IS LIKE IF THEY MADE EL-JAY FOR STUPID OLD PEOPLE WHO ARE ALSO SOMEHOW MORE TECH-SAVVY THAN THE KIDS ARE.
COME BACK EL-JAY. PLZ.
Why do I have Vox?