Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2007-03-26 06:39 pm
rionaleonhart) wrote2007-03-26 06:39 pm
Unless, Of Course, I Am Wrong.
Sometimes, I worry 'what if the impossible happens?' and become very distressed when I can't work out a way of fixing it. I have actually thought 'what if Jeremy Clarkson and I swap bodies for some reason and we can't find a way to change back? What if he doesn't want to change back? OH MY GOD, WHAT WILL I DO WHEN THAT HAPPENS?'
Yes, Riona, I am sure that your inability to work out how to reverse an inexplicable bodyswap will have terrible consequences in the future.
I'd like to have some sort of content in this entry, but I don't really have anything to say. Apart from 'er, please tell me I'm not the only person who thought that Charles and Sir were totally a couple in Lemony Snicket's The Penultimate Peril?', but I'm a bit afraid of saying that in case everyone says 'Yes, Riona, you are the only person who thought that. Take your slash-addled brain and stay far away from children's books, please.'
Yes, Riona, I am sure that your inability to work out how to reverse an inexplicable bodyswap will have terrible consequences in the future.
I'd like to have some sort of content in this entry, but I don't really have anything to say. Apart from 'er, please tell me I'm not the only person who thought that Charles and Sir were totally a couple in Lemony Snicket's The Penultimate Peril?', but I'm a bit afraid of saying that in case everyone says 'Yes, Riona, you are the only person who thought that. Take your slash-addled brain and stay far away from children's books, please.'
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James was concerned about the effect that spending an entire day trapped in a confined space with Jeremy Clarkson could have on a man. "Lovely village, this, isn't it?" he said, hoping to get Richard to calm down by pointing at the delicate trees which were waving in the breeze, making pleasant swooshing noises; the pink-and-orange-tinged sunset that silhouetted the small town; the grassy slopes that looked so oddly comfortable to lie down on, and which TG was now wandering happily over; and the rambling rows of houses, slightly misshapen houses with small gardens and whitewashed walls and quaint little gardens where the red of roses blazed like fire. Richard nodded awkwardly. It wasn't lovely with Jeremy Clarkson in it.
(Apparently I am now a travel brochure for a place that doesn't actually exist.)
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