The joys of not being feline

So after completely blanking the new series of Doctor Who and the pretteh, sparkleh that is the Eleventh Doctor for the grand total of what was ooooh, 4 weeks and six days, my resistiance sort of collapsed under the force of my incessant, insatiable and often irritating curiousity (not wholly unlike a sumo wrestler pinning it's opponent, by the by) , I finally got round to exploring Eleven.
...
Yes, I am aware of how that sounds, believe me. I also don't have that sort of luck, more's the pity.

Anywho (geddit? Who?), it is now six hours later, my ass that brand of numb that'll hurt like a bitch when I regain feeling, my neck is leading the rebellion against my shoulders, I need a drink and I want next Saturday to be here in the worst sort of way.

Damn you, Eleven, damn you.