Cardiff.

Now, I don’t mind waiting.


I don’t mind being hit with a mallet.


I don’t mind the occasional spear in the door.


But when someone absent mindedly litters my console room with trashy magazines, I get narked.
I think we all know I’m talking about a certain Rose Tyler. So, yes, Miss Tyler, a little less littering, please? I mean, come on, be nice, I keep you warm, I carry you through time and space, a little cleanliness isn’t too much to ask, surely.


Anyway, enough of that.


So today, I landed in Cardiff, feeling the need for a refuel. The Doctor nearly decided to take a detour, but I tried to, and successfully managed to, convince him otherwise, though it did take a series of groans.

Waiting Around.

All this waiting around gives me plenty of time to write a blog. I'm good at waiting around.

I'm currently stood in the middle of a market place while the Doctor and Rose bugger off exploring in a way that only they can...

Last time, I ended up with a spear in my door. That was rather painful, though I did gain a sympathy rub from the Doctor, so it's not all that bad. He has soft hands.