she's got red lipstick and a bright pair of shoes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sophieisgod) wrote2007-01-28 01:51 pm
sophieisgod) wrote2007-01-28 01:51 pm
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John Barrowman's Crotch
Yesterday was possibly THE greatest day of all time. It did involve getting up at 6 o'fucking clock in the morning, but it was totally, utterly worth it.
A five hour train journey does not sound like the best way to spend a morning, but a five hour train journey with my girlies is fucking funny five hour train journey. Special mention for hilarity goes to Emma's diagram of her teeny tiny head, Kathryn's amazement at Northern scenery (" It's a fucking mountain!" ".... That's a hill.") and everyone's complete and utter failure to do any work.
Arriving in Cardiff, we decided to be fangirls and went to The Rift, AKA The Millenium Centre. Needless to say, squeeage ensued. As did photo opportunities. Now, somewhere on the Internet, there are pictures of me doing gun poses on The Rift, in a trench coat, with the collar turned up.
Then, we proceeded to the main attraction of the day: Seeing Captain Jack Harkness' alter ego John Barrowman in panto. And it didn't disappoint. He sang, he danced, he made fangirl references, there were Tardis noises. More importantly, he nearly took off his clothes. And we definitely chose the right day to go, because it was the last matinee of the run, meaning that all the performers were playing tricks on each other and corpsing non-stop. Highlights include hiding a stagehand under John Barrowman's bed.
So, after two hours spent laughing so hard and squeeing so hard that I had a stitch, we proceeded to the stage door. Oh my. Yes, I have met John Barrowman. Yes, I have been photographed with, and squeezed by, John Barrowman. Yes, I have touched his back with the very hand with which I now type these words. Yes, my friend accidentally took a picture of his crotch.
So, after all the excitement, there was nothing for it but another five hour train journey, which was obviously spent squeeing ourselves to within an in of our lives and fangirling like there was no tomorrow. Thanks to the lovely Anna, AKA![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
buffologist, for being as big a fangirl as we were and taking our spare ticket.
After a trudge back home, the Hardcore Four decided that the only possible way to round off the Best. Day. Evah. was to watch the final two episodes of Torchwood S1. And we cried.
Now I just have to finish Moby Fucking Dick.
A five hour train journey does not sound like the best way to spend a morning, but a five hour train journey with my girlies is fucking funny five hour train journey. Special mention for hilarity goes to Emma's diagram of her teeny tiny head, Kathryn's amazement at Northern scenery (" It's a fucking mountain!" ".... That's a hill.") and everyone's complete and utter failure to do any work.
Arriving in Cardiff, we decided to be fangirls and went to The Rift, AKA The Millenium Centre. Needless to say, squeeage ensued. As did photo opportunities. Now, somewhere on the Internet, there are pictures of me doing gun poses on The Rift, in a trench coat, with the collar turned up.
Then, we proceeded to the main attraction of the day: Seeing Captain Jack Harkness' alter ego John Barrowman in panto. And it didn't disappoint. He sang, he danced, he made fangirl references, there were Tardis noises. More importantly, he nearly took off his clothes. And we definitely chose the right day to go, because it was the last matinee of the run, meaning that all the performers were playing tricks on each other and corpsing non-stop. Highlights include hiding a stagehand under John Barrowman's bed.
So, after two hours spent laughing so hard and squeeing so hard that I had a stitch, we proceeded to the stage door. Oh my. Yes, I have met John Barrowman. Yes, I have been photographed with, and squeezed by, John Barrowman. Yes, I have touched his back with the very hand with which I now type these words. Yes, my friend accidentally took a picture of his crotch.
So, after all the excitement, there was nothing for it but another five hour train journey, which was obviously spent squeeing ourselves to within an in of our lives and fangirling like there was no tomorrow. Thanks to the lovely Anna, AKA
buffologist, for being as big a fangirl as we were and taking our spare ticket.After a trudge back home, the Hardcore Four decided that the only possible way to round off the Best. Day. Evah. was to watch the final two episodes of Torchwood S1. And we cried.
Now I just have to finish Moby Fucking Dick.
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