Poor little Harry the guinea pig. He has a scar on his back. We think (since I haven't dropped him and there's nothing he coulda hit himself on) that Dougie bit him while humping him. Poor thing.
The ickle moorhens were out again today. Cute ickle fluffballs. I didn't think to take my camera.
Cardiff's a week on Sunday. I have to go in to take the rest of the money for it tomorrow, provided the weather's ok.
The Kylie tickets came today but I've not seen them.
I have fic open but I'm too drained to do anything to them. Over the next few days I hope to do five:
*The Master fic I'm on now
*A Bullet fic based on the Rock Sound interview (either the panties part or the scat part... maybe both)
*The next part of Their Whore
*A belated birthday fic for ditzydmt
*And one for aerogroupie
I may do the next bandana one too, which is either Dan/Ray or Billy/Bert cause both got high votes in poll I've yet to decide which (I may also do a Smash Brothers one, which I've been on today and done nothing significant).
No ones coming here to stay again indefinately. That's not mum saying that, that's me. I hate that people go on about my room or even seem to think about it constantly whenever they're here. It annoys the hell out of me when mum does it. I like my room. Yes it's not perfect, but it's mine, I inhabit it every day, most of my time is spent in it. I'm fairly happy with it. Yes there's meant to be shelves put up for the stuff I have, but I don't know when they'll be put in, maybe never.
In short, I ban people coming here to stay unless something bad happens. My room now becomes my space.
I'm gonna watch Army of Ghosts/Doomsday now. I'm in the mood for the bitchy Daleks.