sgareview - conversion, s2e8

In which I say, yeah, I've lost all rationality



I've come to realize that three quarters of my deep and abiding love for this show is all visceral--pretty men, pretty women, and occasional violence.

I am not ashamed of the fact that pretty much every time John was on screen, I sighed, "oooh. pretty."

I also said, Thank you God, when he was stick fighting. Jesus. Please. More of *that*. Can I get a clip of that anywhere?

He was blue and scaly and slimey. He was *scary*--okay, never mind, I find scary John the hottest thign ever. But I think I realized Id' abandoned all sense when he did that classic flying squirrel impression to leap at people and bug eggs and I *did not laugh*.

I said. "OOh. *Pretty*."

I am *fucked*.

Note: anyone notice how his poor hair flattened the unhappier he got? I've noted this before. There is a direct correlation between the perk of his hair and his mood.

Note 2: This pretty much killed my fledgling Weir/Sheppard fic I was trying to work on. *Dammit*.

Comments

[seperis.livejournal.com]

That codeine bit was *inspired*.

and oh my god, are they *trying* to get me to write Sheppard addicted to painkillers?

I will offer you *anything you want* if you write this. Okay? *Anything you want*. God. Yes. He *would* be.

On a secondary note, yes, the struggle between Weir and Caldwell was fasciating. I try to like him and he and Weir have some great moments, but every time he opens his mouth, I want to shout "WRONG WRONG WRONG! YOU ARE SO WRONG!" even when he's right, and that's just not good.