![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
misscam” BUT our Lord Jesus is very gracious to us.
Because I started praying for JKR and our ship. I didn't think He'd do anything because God doesn't like to mess with free will. If JKR wants to write it that way, then so be it. However, that night, I had a dream of grown-up and pregnant H/Hr.”
...!
Okay, I'm a wee atheist, so maybe I'm not up to date on praying etiquette, but praying for your ship? Your ship? What? I mean, you don't see me sacreficing a goat to Odin to bring forth the glorious Nine/Rose/Ten ('the threesome for those who just can't choose between Nine and Ten!'), now do you? I might be off here, but it seems to me that the God of religion is in fact not Santa Claus. And if he was, I think he'd prefer to give you socks over a ship. (Not to mention, what would he give the eager prayers for the opposite ship? He might have to go for the orgy to satisfy all, poor divinity.)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cryptile is the Featured Whovian of the week. Poke her with questions. Pooooke.
Meanwhile, I am writing my first Eight fic. Interesting... A tease, because I like to do it.
Tomorrow, the world is ending, and today, he is happy.
He goes to London, May 1945, watching the people rejoice and the war be over. He snogs complete strangers. Complete strangers snog him. He sings all the wrong words to songs and no one cares. He dances with an old woman in the street to silent music, and she rests her head on his shoulder and sighs. Just once, just happy.
Tomorrow, she's going to die, he knows. But then, so is he.
He takes Leonardo DaVinci flying, and is miffed when Leonardo steals his design. He crashes into a field with the Wright brothers, but assures them they're on the right track and it'll work very soon, and by the way, have they ever considered police box design for flying?
He sees two turns of the millenium - one with drunk Englishmen in a sportsbar, one with drunk Vikings in a longhouse, or the other way around. He wears a Viking helmet and finds it a bit boring, so he sticks horns on it.
Tomorrow, it's going to be a fashion high-point, he thinks. But then, so he's always been.
II
So now I've passed 400 friends on this LJ. Hum. And I feel I don't know quite a lot of you. So, let's play a fact game. You comment with a random fact about you, I'll reply with one about me. If you want to keep going, you reply again with another fact and so on.
Or, if you so prefer, ask me any three questions you want, and I'll answer. Then I'll ask three of you.
(Oldies may also play, if they're bored or just plain curious.)
Because I started praying for JKR and our ship. I didn't think He'd do anything because God doesn't like to mess with free will. If JKR wants to write it that way, then so be it. However, that night, I had a dream of grown-up and pregnant H/Hr.”
...!
Okay, I'm a wee atheist, so maybe I'm not up to date on praying etiquette, but praying for your ship? Your ship? What? I mean, you don't see me sacreficing a goat to Odin to bring forth the glorious Nine/Rose/Ten ('the threesome for those who just can't choose between Nine and Ten!'), now do you? I might be off here, but it seems to me that the God of religion is in fact not Santa Claus. And if he was, I think he'd prefer to give you socks over a ship. (Not to mention, what would he give the eager prayers for the opposite ship? He might have to go for the orgy to satisfy all, poor divinity.)
cryptile is the Featured Whovian of the week. Poke her with questions. Pooooke.Meanwhile, I am writing my first Eight fic. Interesting... A tease, because I like to do it.
Tomorrow, the world is ending, and today, he is happy.
He goes to London, May 1945, watching the people rejoice and the war be over. He snogs complete strangers. Complete strangers snog him. He sings all the wrong words to songs and no one cares. He dances with an old woman in the street to silent music, and she rests her head on his shoulder and sighs. Just once, just happy.
Tomorrow, she's going to die, he knows. But then, so is he.
He takes Leonardo DaVinci flying, and is miffed when Leonardo steals his design. He crashes into a field with the Wright brothers, but assures them they're on the right track and it'll work very soon, and by the way, have they ever considered police box design for flying?
He sees two turns of the millenium - one with drunk Englishmen in a sportsbar, one with drunk Vikings in a longhouse, or the other way around. He wears a Viking helmet and finds it a bit boring, so he sticks horns on it.
Tomorrow, it's going to be a fashion high-point, he thinks. But then, so he's always been.
II
So now I've passed 400 friends on this LJ. Hum. And I feel I don't know quite a lot of you. So, let's play a fact game. You comment with a random fact about you, I'll reply with one about me. If you want to keep going, you reply again with another fact and so on.
Or, if you so prefer, ask me any three questions you want, and I'll answer. Then I'll ask three of you.
(Oldies may also play, if they're bored or just plain curious.)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-03-28 04:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-29 12:18 am (UTC)