I'm Gonna Spend My Christmas With A Dalek

And if I make him happy he will stay.

Whovian Anniversary

"Today, the 23rd of November 2014, marks the one year anniversary of the first local whovian gathering ever. 

We started out small, just a couple of people who like Doctor Who and were kind of hoping we'd find a bunch of people to talk to them about it. And here we are! Months later, and the community still grows.

We're proud of what we've created; this community has not only entertained people, but it has helped them. It brought out the good in people. Better yet, it brought out the good in good people, and that made for something pretty damn special.

We never thought so many people would come together. We never even knew so many Egyptians watched Doctor Who. Surprisingly, we ended up even rekindling old friendships and realizing that we KNEW people who watched Doctor Who all along, but never spoke about it to one another.

And unsurprisingly, it turns out all of us whovians have other things in common. Our fascination with seemingly juvenile tales of a Timelord isn't the only thing we share.

When this started out a little less than a year ago, we set out to have a Whovian group that may or may not evolve into something bigger. Now, we're sure it can be a lot bigger. And if the first Egyptian Comic Con happens thanks to you guys, we wouldn't be surprised.

This is a hidden message from the two who started it, a little Easter egg shall we say, and we won't tell you who we are because we are no longer two people. We are many.

We will tell you this though, you have inspired us to be better people, you have cheered us up when we were down in the dumps, and you have given us hope in mankind when we were hoping for an alien invasion."

I Am A Brave Hobbit.

Wish I Was Here

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, 

The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes 

Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening, 

Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains, 

Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys, 

Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, 

And seeing that it was a soft October night, 

Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time 

For the yellow smoke that slides along the street, 

Rubbing its back upon the window panes; 

There will be time, there will be time 

To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; 

There will be time to murder and create, 

And time for all the works and days of hands 

That lift and drop a question on your plate; 

Time for you and time for me, 

And time yet for a hundred indecisions, 

And for a hundred visions and revisions, 

Before the taking of a toast and tea.