Overload

I've just watched three episodes of Being Human back-to-back, plus disc two's special features, so that means tomorrow? Another three episodes (or two, and another on Sunday) before Season 3 starts on Sunday evening. I'm suffering from severe Aidan Turner overload at the minute. I say 'suffering' I mean 'enjoying mightily'.

Not forgetting the fact The Tudors starts again tomorrow night so it's a weekend of Irish mancandy for everyone, dahrlings!

I know, I know. It's shite. Historically inaccurate. Clunky dialogue. On-the-nose explanations of foreign phrases: "Fidei Defensor...? Defender of the Faith." Yes, thank you for explaining something all characters present would already know, thereby acknowledging the viewer, breaking down the fourth wall and ruining my suspension of disbelief, scriptwriters.

Nevertheless, I can justify my watching it in not even one word, but a picture, which paints a thousand of the little buggers:

Jonathan Rhys Meyers has a big...throne.

Om nom nom indeed.

Oh, you wanted writing talk? Um...yeah. Well. *cough* Despite pledging to write 50k words from mid-January to mid-February in an erotica writers' PorNoWriMo thingy, I'm way, way behind, so, uh...yeah.

Better get back to work. I have loads to do.

After leaving you with this:

Look into my eyes. No, not at my hairy chest. My eyes.

And really, in for a penny, in for a pound when it comes to hot Irishmen, right?


"They're always after me lucky charms. And yes, she is running out of caption ideas."