intense
Just got home from Rod's...an awesome time [sorry, Polina, "awesome" is *not* a midwestern word]. Excellent company, good champagne [with Chambord, yum], good crab cakes [honey soy dip, yum], and six more episodes of Battlestar Galactica.
Holy frakking gods [nods to BSG there], it's intense. Great googly moogly, it's heavy. And real. And emotional. And frakkin' non-stop. Sitting there in the dark, watching in high-def, curled up on the couch clutching Rod for dear life, digging nails into his arm as things just escalate and get more and more tense. Then end of episode, pause for bathroom break, shake it off, release some tension, talk about the ep we just watched, refill the drinks...
...and on to the next one. Then the bastich stops me at midnight with three episodes to go, just at a critical point, leaving me hanging. Rod, you magnificent bastard...
2 comments:
So sorry to be the mutha frakking bastich, but I needed to get some shut eye. And you'll appreciate the magnificence of the episodes even more if you're not worn out and groggy (as it would have been 2:30-3 AM when we were thru.
But I would do again (and again, and again ad infinitum) with you as company :)
<grin> I still think you enjoyed leaving me hanging like that...the suspense is killing me!
And thank you...I would as well.
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