Whatever, I Mean, Okay, Whatever
Fear Stalks the Land!
A Dog's Breakfast 
05.03.09
earlwyn: (sga || this sweet and peaceful rest)
So I have the sinking feeling that I should really make my way over to my local friendly DVD shop and get myself a copy of A Dog's Breakfast to watch. It seems like you can't call yourself a David Hewlett fan without watching his movie. (Or it could be that I just reached that conclusion while reading this fic. Oh, Patrick. ♥) Is this true?

It also seems like while I'm at said local DVD shop (which is Best Buy -- I honestly don't know why I'm trying to pretend otherwise) I should nab me a copy of SG-1. I need something to do while I keep dragging my feet on watching season five of SGA.

Because this is what I do with things I love that I know end: I just stop watching in hopes that if I do it will never technically end for me. One of those tree-falls-in-the-woods things. Plus, season four was just, like, brain-meltingly awesome, and basically should be subtitled The Tragic Lovesong of John Sheppard and His Epic Love for Rodney McKay. (I realize the "I can't" is known far and wide through fandom but it's brand new to me and I think I watched that scene about seven times on repeat before finally watching the rest of the episode and may in fact have rolled around on the living room floor a little bit while frightening Sam with my high-pitched squeals. Just sayin'.) Season five is going to need to work pretty damn hard to top that. And I don't want it to be over. Is The Shrine really worth that? Is Vegas? I just don't know.

Besides, Jack O'Neill and I need to do some bonding. (The Minnesotan accent gets all thick when he's being sarcastic and it makes me chortle into my strudel hotdish with Midwestern-bred glee. Minnesotans! On televsion! The world is a crazy place.)

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