Overdose on Sexy: A Cautionary Tale

Just got an extremely extravagant international phone call from 

arctacuda and jlrpuck, who were entirely incoherent over the fact that John Simm had no trousers on during the play and also stared right at them in the front row. Well, arctacuda was more incoherent than jlrpuck, but then, Simm is her member of The Sexy Brigade. She was a bit like a woman who's just been in an accident, dazed and babbling and unable to say anything other than, "No! Pants! He was wearing no! Pants!" She also warned me to re-think my RSC plans because once I see David Tennant in person there will be nothing left for me to look forward to, and she is going to have to become an embittered alcoholic now because her life has already reached its zenith. I did confess my fear that I might be give birth to my first child, be handed the baby, and say, "Eh, not as exciting as seeing 'Hamlet.'" arctacuda totally agreed that this might be a possibilty.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is what happens when you overdose on sexy. It's madness. I told them they'd better watch Owen on Torchwood have some sex, and that should eliminate the sexy high pretty quickly. I think the very thought eliminated the sexy high. To counter it, they began squeeing (literally) over John Simm's neck.