Now that the horrors of humid,pollen-laden summer are setting in, I spend even more time indoors, gawping at old films and stuff. The weather makes me even more creatively blocked than usual.
Instead of beefing, of course, I should be grateful. Unlike so many others, I have, at least a shabby wee flat to myself, not mashed in with people I don't like, I don't have to find a new slave job, or return to one, and I've just about enough to get by, at the moment. I am indeed grateful for all this, and, naturally, guilty.
Thank gods for trash like HOLBY CITY, anyway. The place is just erupting...[Spoiler (click to open)]
[Spoiler (click to open)]
[Kian the drug-crazed surgeoun has been discovered dead(?) again, by Fletch, who was wanting to kill him, the inappropriate May-Sept hot romance is in trouble, Sascha V now-nasty Dom simmers on...))]