The Licence Fee, Pardon my French!

I watch far more of the BBC than any other channel. We have freeview after I realised that I watch far more there than I ever did on Sky. However ITV1 should show people what the BBC could become. It's job is to provide something for everyone. To be fair I would pay for the license fee for Doctor Who, QI, a good chunk of their comedy and the news (yes, not a fan of the new news website). I understand that people object to paying a flat rate tax for a service that they may not use - personally it would be nice if it could be on a sliding scale according to income but that would be hell to organise. However what it does produce compared to the alternatives far outweigh the costs. If the government funded it directly you'd probably never notice the difference but it would leave the BBC under the control of the government and we have enough of that with the press. I can't think of anything on ITV1 that people watch apart from reality TV, which cost little as people already pay a tax to watch that in order to vote and of course Coronation Street.

We are the envy of the world! Have you ever watched TV in other countries? It's either rubbish or our stuff. America produces some good stuff but the population is huge so the income is huge. And they have adverts in some programmes every 3 minutes that last longer!

Yes, they could tighten up their act and we should ensure that they're running efficiently but to do without them and rely on advertisers to judge what they're prepared to support would leave us with unchallenging, non-controversial programming.

And it's worth remembering the commercial channels produce what they do to compete with the BBC. It drags up the quality of TV accross the board. Without it quality would sag like a set of Primark knickers after some heavy washing and would be as interesting to see.

So do you want saggy Primark knickers? Do you?

Join SAILBOAT

Do you, or do someone you live with suffer from diminished intelligence?

Due to government concerns that the lack of a capable and intelligent workforce in the future and the potential shortfall in taxation due to the high number of slack-jawed yokels claiming benefit, a survey is being taken to assess the problem.

Over the coming weeks, if you have a member of your household who is suffering from an inability to form sentences apart from “You're in front of t' telly!”, “Poofs/Blacks/Muslims/women is wrong!” and “Get me a beer.” They may also have a number of friends or 'mates' who wear synthetic tops with numbers on, or advertise banks that have made you as poor as you are now. Are they unsatisfying in the bedroom, thinking only of themselves? Are they insensitive, boorish or spongelike? Are they possibly made of fat?

If you have someone like this in your home please hang a white flag with a red cross on it outside your home. Our survey will be able to identify how widespread the problem is. If you feel that you or your household members are of particular concern please also tag their car/van.

If they additionally happen to have a penis smaller than 3cm can you instruct them to drive around in their vehicle blowing their horn after a football match win? It will make tracking down these poor wastes of blood and their removal from the gene pool so much easier.

Thank you for your assistance.

SAILBOAT
(Society for the Abolition of Illiterate, Loutish, Bastards Obsessed About Tits)

Moving in a Mysterious Way

Well, it’s been a while – and a rather eventful one at that.

Our birthdays went well, our life continues. The recession bit and Woolies closed.

Bankers were pariahed and then paid a lot to put things right for us.

The public sector were told they were bad for taking away all the money – they’d probably stolen it off the bankers – and that they wouldn’t be getting any more as rubbish collection, teaching, supporting the elderly and ensuring that the public were safe was not nearly so important as having a Porsche and living in a detached house in Surrey with a trophy wife called Porscha.

We watched as the Government managed to lead the world – to the acknowledgement of the world - in strategies to resolve the debt only to read in the papers that Gordon Brown was personally responsible for the recession and he must’ve travelled to the States to bring down the whole, wobbly, foundation of Capitalism. In short, he managed something that Communism didn’t manage to do. Not only that, he was responsible for simultaneously leading us in the wrong direction and failing to lead us. And having poor handwriting – blind or not, he should try harder.

Christmas came and went. We followed the recession spirit and had a family oriented cheapy which worked very well.

We also had three Doctor Who specials

The Waters of Mars
A sinister dark non-starter. The Doctor arrives on Mars before the first base is destroyed. He knows everyone is going to die but not how. 40 mins later he buggers off to let them get on with it and then decides he’s in charge of time and rather than get the TARDIS and save them he runs back, sends a comedy robot to get the TARDIS and saves the last three. One of whom shoots herself to show the error of his time meddling ways. Rather than, say, shooting him.

Ood Sigma turns up to sing at him.

The End of Time – Part One
The Master is resurrected. Wilf wants the Doctor to save Donna. The Doctor refuses. The Master turns everyone into copies of himself. Wilf asks the Doctor to kill the Master and return everyone back to normal. The Doctor refuses. The Master finds a way to save the Time Lords. The Doctor grabs a gun. He’s a bit contrary today.

And Donna has a headache.

The End of Time – Part Two
Donnas’ headache causes her to have a nap, and knock out every copy of the Master in Chiswick. The Time Lords try to bring Gallifrey back in our Solar System – The World is in Peril… more Peril. The Doctor shoots the jury rigged network server with a diamond in it and everything twangs back into place.

Wilf got locked in a box and the Doctor triggers his regeneration by saving him.
He then goes for a few quick trips, shopping for books and lottery tickets for the afterlife, sets up Captain Jack with someone lonely, depressed and half his visible age, provides the kind of brooding, non-talking presence that might persuade Martha to go back to doctoring rather than running around with Mickey the Grunt with the worst hair extensions, has a quick grope of Sarah Jane’s adopted son and messes with his own timeline by setting a bomb in Rose Tyler’s flat to make sure her mum never travels with him.

He then regenerates – which breaks the TARDIS. See I told you better out than in!

His new persona then spouts ‘Catchphrase’!

Well that’s us up to date.
The future lies this way…

Torchwood 3

Well, what a suprise. Capt Jack's a bad guy. Why is everyone suprised?

Anyway, more corridors and posturing. Still good to see the team back together and thieving as well. Quite fun.

A friend suggested that the 456 are Zarbi with a cold. I thought Zarbi with Swine Flu.

##Yesss## Splash of Mucus. Maybe melted children are Zarbi linctus?

Give us 10% or you're all dead? If you can do that, why not just take 10%? Why chat about it?

Torchwood 2

Well, another good episode - more of a corridor story than advancing too much but some good 'feeehulings' stuff with the families.

And Jack's grandchild. Just the one?

And they're not doing too much bitching at each other.

And Jack had his cock out - finally. I get the impression that Mr Barrowman has been glued into his outfit in order to prevent repeated nudity. He looked like he was having fun anyway.

And. Sloooooowest escape ever!

Children of Earth

Well that was pretty impressive. Nicely written with good characterisation and great plot twists and turns.

Great points.

The Children - bloody scary.
Torchwood - finally seem to be pulled together and coherent. And positive. Hearing Gwen talking about the positives of working for Torchwood was great. Now I want to see it!
The civil service elete and MPs out for themselves and watching their own backs - very topical!
Clement - an interesting damaged character - hopefully more to come.
Dr Rupesh Patanjali - shame! Pretty!
A bomb in Capt Jack! And Torchwood in pieces!
Baby Gwen! Ahhhh!
And triple deadlock can't keep out teenagers on a council estate. It was always a rubbish plot device and seeing people mooning at it from the Torchwood truck was great!

I'm horrified. London is no more having been destroyed by G20 protesters! This picture is where Lloyds used to be! According to the Evening Standard anyway. And remember, those Catholic-Muslim-Lesbian-Asylum Seeking Immigrant-Single Mums - they'll be coming for you next!

Honestly, what is the problem with the media? It's not just the Standard. They're all making the news now rather than reporting it. It's been there for a long time but when you live in London and you see what happens you do end up wondering if there's another London somewhere in the UK that no one has told you about!

Anarchy in the UK... again.

I'm panicking! The media have told me to. I'm also completely unable to cope. Apparently. And I live in Zone 1 so have barricaded the doors and booby trapped the lift and the staircase. Just for self-defence. Those pesky protesters wanting to kill me with their peaceful protests!

I hope I live through the night and they don't get a cossack to bomb me!

Exposure

Facebook is something that has made me wince in places. Most of the time it's a useful tool. You're able to communicate what you need and make easy linkages with friends. Sometimes it's more exposing. I've found people often expressing themselves in writing all to hastily to be wise. I've seen friends pop in and out of their relationships with indecent haste and, in many ways like blogging, they've said some pretty revealing things.

This is good, even though my repressed British spirit does say that it's unsettled.

Often it's about a lack of confidence and self-worth. Sometimes I worry that I'm the most confident person I know and whether that makes me less talented, capable, even insightful than people I recognise as being good and talented people who don't bloody realise it. How oxymoronic is that!

I honestly think that the only thing holding back the universe is a voice in our head going "No one likes you! You're no good at that! Don't try it you'll waste your time! Envy! Jealousy!"

Fight it people. You're worth more than you think. In most cases a lot more!

The Voting Public

This is one of the fundamental problems with reality TV - it's not about talent or skills, it's about likeability - or the lack thereof. The British public feel that they can influence anything they want for the most spurious of reasons.

They vote for people because:
A) They're nice, but often not too nice.
B) They’re pretty, but not too pretty.
C) They're good at something unrelated. i.e. (I'll vote for my favourite football player even though they're plainly rubbish at ice skating in scuba gear.
D) They're not the judge’s choice and the judges were a bit rude about them.
E) They're the underdog.

Now we like the underdog, it's one of those things that exemplify the British psyche. We think that it's jolly unfair if they don't have a chance. This is a commendable feature up to a point, but coupled with our tendency to take our pleasures sadly and glory in failure, it does mean that we're destined for Jordan to be our Prime Minister. A) She’s easy – good to know if you’re an outraged fad middle aged Daily Mail reader – even you are in with a chance! B) She's considered by some to have the criteria for being pretty (that’s not the word, there needs to be one, maybe glamonster) – but a bit tacky, both physically and conceptually. C) She’s good at self publicising – not just positive publicity but any.
D) Everyone thinks she’s quite dumb so therefore deserves a chance to prove she’s not – or at least until she does something really stupid.
E) She’s low down the social scale and she’s a dog.

That coupled with the national disaster’s that’d occur if she was in charge – well glory in her failure – just what the country likes and there’s never be a time when we didn’t know what was going on! She’d be monitored 24 hours a day.

And the public absolve themselves from blame about the situation. We chose her and she messed it up. Of course she messed it up – you chose her.

Remember politics no one voted for Margaret Thatcher, John Major, Tony Blair and Gordon Brown. We voted for (or against) the parties that they represent. And people, don’t kick up a fuss because someone you don’t like is in charge of the party. You gave them the ability to be there – and it could always be worse. Jordan’ll give anything a go. Ask Gareth Gates.

Banker rhymes with...

Having seen the last blog entry of the inestimable Rob, and realising I've been a bit remiss in not updating for a while

It's terrifying to think that such a large chunk of our economy is based on moving money around and guessing how much things that don't exist will be when they do exist. Betting is a way for an individual to make money (or more often loose money) but should not be the way a civilisation creates wealth in an abstract sense.

Everything is a bet in life. Will the crops grow? Will the film
be popular? Will we run out of water? However those are productive betting processes with aspects we can control. Will the crops grow? I'll tend them more? Will the film be popular? We'll put gunfire and titties in it. Will we run out of water? We'll conserve it. However, the Stock Exchange is a weird place. The idea that you can bet on production and make money from them whether or not they do well or badly seems such a strange concept. Essentially it seems like a farmer whose crops fail and goes, thank goodness. I had bet that they would so I've made lots of money. It produces nothing and benefits, directly at least, very few. It also, and this is very weird, it appears to underpin our entire financial system.

We are beholden to a collection of people who, when calm, bet that everything will get more valuable on the whole and then, when like oil and house prices rocket beyond the reach of most people, panic that the economy is in recession. This panic is insidious. If, on the day of the panic, the water of the Stock exchange was spiked with Valium and Prozac rather than the usual Cocaine and Caffeine then the crash wouldn't happen, or at least much slower and calmer. People panic and sell, which causes stock prices to crash, causing more people to panic and sell. I think you can see the problem here. Panic and hysteria are the motivating forces and they aren't the best ones.

Ultimately the problem affects shareholders rather than the general public – apart from in sideways effects like pension funds. The companies often stay in business. People still need umbrellas and track suits and t-shirts, but the shareholders who bought shares for £10 each and have sold for £5 have lost half their money. On the other hand, if they waited 5 years they'd probably have made money, but no-one wants to wait now.

More interestingly is that at each stage of this process the brokers tend to have made money. If we have to bail out banks and bankers to ensure economic stability we should be able to make some robust changes to the structure of the system to make it more equitable, transparent and based on something real.

Maybe the hollowed out skulls of bankers who wail that they need an income in the kind of bracket that makes most peoples knuckles itch. Really, it's probably why I'm not in that kind of business. I tend not to panic so would be useless in a system like that. Apart from wandering around telling people to calm down.

Much as I do now really. On the other hand. This might be a good time to invest in Prozac shares.

Party, party, party!

Well it’s been a busy weekend. Got in contact with an old friend. Had a long overdue housewarming party and had a visit from the in-laws.

From the top – Emma, an old friend from Uni got in touch by Facebook. I like Facebook as it means you can stay in contact with people by doing – well, nothing really. And I’m very good at that. I leave it a bit and then it turns into 5 years. I think I’m living like I’m going to die at 1000 years old – my life seems to be paced that way in some ways. Anyway that was lovely.

Then we have the party. The inestimable Rob and that whippersnapper Chris had a housewarming party. I hasten to add that this is at least 3 houses down the line. They have been pressurised by friends to organise a housewarming and essentially set it up in such a way as to make it nigh on impossible for people to attend. I myself had to cancel the removal of three cysts and a teapot in order to attend.

There were nibbles and Dante’s Cove and Chris and Rob and his infernal I-Phone.

And there were the guests.

All seven of us.

Boys you missed the point. Having a party that no one can attend merely makes people want you to have one they can attend.

Particularly if people give glowing praise to the party.

So may I say now what a delight the evening was – the amount of exposed flesh was probably illegal. Particularly since some of it was by Tracy Scoggins, wearing stocking style legwarmers on her arms of all things. The food was a delightful juxtaposition of flavours and there is enough alcohol there for at least 3 more parties – or an evening in. And the hallway carpet has now been washed. There’s a tanning booth in the bathroom and an elderley relative in the cistern.

Rob’s musical selection is inventive and eclectic.

See! If that doesn’t get the buggers round I don’t know what will.

My mother in law and stepfather-in-law popped over on Sunday and we had a lovely chat and a nice meal at Sorrisso http://www.london-se1.co.uk/restaurants/info/664/sorriso. Very good food and they do a weekday lunchtime special of £599 for 2 courses and a glass of wine. Very nice.

Dramarama

I have wondered if my partner could find some soothing past-time to do. Soothing for me too that is. I’ve come to the conclusion that the answer is probably no. Which is a shame.

Here is my event path for a generic soothing activity.

Painting flowers.

If he painted flowers things would be fine for about 2 minutes – just enough time to get inconveniently far away and yet close enough to hear.

I'd get "Is this the right colour?"
“Can you find me some nicer flowers?”
“Can you hold the easel? It seems wobbly when I paint!”
"Can you get me some fresh water?"

After going to get the water and being stopped a couple of times rather than asked all things at the same time I would return to see the easel on fire, the paint was up the wall, he’d managed to swallow the only toxic flower in the bunch and he'd gouged out an eye with the paintbrush!

Not that of course I'd consider it done on purpose but it would add drama what should be a relaxing situation.

It’s bad because I’m starting to do things for him to prevent the coming disaster.

I suppose I should just let him get on with it and then act like it’s a catastrophic disaster and make him go and stay with his mother until ‘my shattered life can be rebuilt’ ,!

I mean that would meet the required level of melodrama? Eh?

Windows, windows...

I’ve lived here for eight and a half years.

Each Year we’re told that there will be a refurbishment of the block.

Each year it’s failed to happen.

Until today. Today we are getting new windows. Yaaaay!

Sadly the new kitchen was cancelled by the council.

Oh, yes and the new bathroom.

And the rewiring.

And they won’t be replacing the windowsills.

Or making good.

And they started the roof before replacing the windows.

So everything got covered in grit.

But the windows are being done.

Whoop-de-do

Shake, Rattle and Roll

The ear saga continues...

My hubby has just started taking statins as he has a natural predisposition to high cholesterol. He's also taking antibiotics for his ears together with aspirin and paracetamol for the pain.

So he's rattling.

Or at least that's the noise he's making.

I have heard about his hearing.

And how painful his ears are.

And that it's really painful.

And I am sympathetic.

But if this is going on for 2 months I'm going to go down for manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility.

Bless.

Bang Bang

He shot himself down is not the way the song lyrics go but sadly he did.

My delightful partner decided to clean his ears after a shower, but rather than just do that he put in the cotton buds, wandered around the house, flapping, and then tried to do his hair, having forgotten about his ear cleaning which resulted in him popping an eardrum. Unfortunately his Italian bent caused him to "Mamma Mia" style clasp of the face on either side causing the one he'd left in the other ear to pop that eardrum. To be fair he coped with it in a suprisingly normal manner for him. Panic.

He’s been told they’ll grow back within 2 months and to keep them dry.

I am awaiting a water tank to burst over his head.

Ups and downs.

Well it's been a bit busy over the last 11 weeks. We're due to have our windows replaced soon and all the mess that'll make, it's out birthday coming up and Doctor Who is about to wind up as a series for 2 years.

Gosh, I feel palpitations coming on!

Behind the wheel.

It is scary.

I am about to try driving for the first time ever.

And I am crapping myself. To be honest.

...and a new beginning!

Doctor Who. Glad to have it back and a good fun reintroductory romp with Donna and the Doctor. Both paralelling themselves to the point at which they meet, and rather unfortunately do so in front of the baddie. Mis Foster - well it was Miss Wormwood wasn't it. Great but I've seen it before. The Adipose are sweet and frankly I can think of some dieters who would be happy to take the pills if they'd just take the fat. The drop and subsequent splat of Miss Foster was a bit heavy handed and the cheesy flypast was, well, cheesy. Overall it was really a Sarah Jane Adventures with the Doctor.

At least until Rose.

And Rose - well we'd heard she was back but weren't expecting it this end of the season. It looked like she was waiting for Donna and looked so upset.

Maybe she knows something about Donna's future.

If she has one...

An ending...

Torchwood was a bit of a blast last night. Visually very impressive and with some peril that could've been lifted from the Jon/Tom era - exploding nuclear power station. No explanation for the strange voiced scythemen.

And then we sadly come to the downside. Gray - Cpt Jack's baby brother. Back for revenge for having his hand let go of a few years (relative time) back. Motivation, sure but surely not really a Big Bad for the series end. Did some terrible things but hey! How quickly did he get over it? And Jack buried for 2000 years. He said he had a bit of grey here and there after 100 years waiting for the Doctor yet after 2000 years in a box he seemed pretty OK. And again with the I forgive you. He's killed #~@{}_+ >@}@~}:@> of people including Torchwood members and 'I forgive you'. And how quick did he get over his brotherly anger.

The death scenes, particularly Tosh's were handled superbly but I have to say that I would prefer a stronger motivation and better characterisation of a villan character. How many people who've suffered torture go on to blow up major cities when they want to get their own back on someone. And where do you get a Weevil remote control.

Bless...poor Tosh.

La Hoya/Herradura

Well it's been a lovely time. 8 days of sunshine and 24+C, it's been glorious. On our visit this time we had.
Mother chair jiving
Karaoke in the style of Opera
Albondigas coming out of our ears.
A Gigantic puppy
Hubby on fire.
Lunch in the Chapel
Gossip of a drunken fight
Combat Bingo.
So you can see we had a bit of a full week.

Blueberry Blow up
What could happen on the way home? Really. Yes I was traveling with my partner, Diva Stropp to you. If you've read these missives you'll know that a simple journey is impossible.

Accident's this journey
Pouring a blueberry smoothie over his entire seating area, leg and socks.

My life is a tragicomedy!

Flying free.

Well here we are on the flight toAlmeria again - this time after my mothers birthday as well as, coincidentaly, Mothers Day. So far it's been variable. Hubby has a cold a bad back a blocked head and, probably more importantly, a tendency to martyrdom. At the moment he has a problem with being crushed between two huge sets of shoulders. Honestly he would really rather get every flight with a special seat for him at the front for access purpose and no-one sitting next to him. I would be seated a couple of places back so I could get what he desires!

Sometimes Love is not enough.

It's very frustrating when you have to deal with someone who insists the longest way is best. Not for any scenic value but instead because the journey is made more tortuous and difficult giving scope for extra drama and annoyance. For some people (God alone knows why) this is an attractive prospect as it gives options to rhetorically go why oh why oh why is everything so difficult. They also tend not to enjoy a reminder that "but you wanted to do it this way" which springs to the lips. Instead you get blamed for pointing out a simpler solution as you watch your life slip away. So I have decided to, instead, try to do something else. It's fun actually as you feel the annoyance that you're not waiting around looking bored and you're not giving any scope for complaint. I am waiting for a "help me" at this moment. Or maybe a "pay attention, couldn't you be doing something." I've just had a distracting conversation about nothing thrown at me. I smile and agree and go back to the writing undeterred. It's like I'm free and am not being dragged into the veltshmelt of conversation.

I win?

Save the Whale (like)

Torchwood again seems to have provided something more interesting than usual with the drama being less about the title subject (Meat) and the unethical harvesting of alien meat from an ever growing apparently sentient alien and more about Gwen's fiancé finding out about Torchwood. And a bout bloody time! Frankly it's been in the offing since the beginning and I'm glad it's out and honestly it makes it a lot more interesting all round.

The whale well. What can I say it's big; it's got huge eyes and died at the end.

Round and round like a skanky in a cage.

Well last nights offering was a character set piece. I got the impression it was supposed to be about Toshiko but instead it seemed to be about a young man called Tom from 1918 who rather sadly had to travel back in time to close a shifting temporal fault line. Perhaps most sadly was the fact that Torchwood did not try and arrange for him to be saved from the firing squad as he had just saved the planet. Because of the extended dramatic imperative no one really had their 'moment'. Still I'm darned impressed.

Skank skank skank skank...
Primeval continues to show itself well, at least for ITV. It's got all the ingredients there. Sadly few are fresh and it's been reheated in a microwave. They're crowbaring in dramatic tension where they can but there doesn't seem to be much logic to it so far. We have double agents, divided loyalties and still we have the pop up skanky ho who appears to be sleeping her way into control of the planet.

I’ve heard worse philosophies but I think some clearer motives should be in the offing.

Ahhhh! Fluffy!

Well Primeval is back with a tale of a park keeper in a theme park who found a little kitten that turned into a Sabretooth. She got mauled together with a couple of blokes.

Sadly that was it. No real engaging with the characters. Not much plot advancement.

The only interest to the story was the fact that the Ministry have hooked up one of the characters with a spy - of sorts.

And the fact that it appears that they've kept the Sabretooth for themselves.

And it was so fluffy. Bless CGI - it's very difficult to to proper fur. It looked like it had just had a bath and a blow dry.

Skanky Ho's and Prime Evil - Now Sponsored by Haven Family Holidays for Parents and Monsters!

An elite group investigate strange beings coming through time rifts – above the law, well beyond or at least brighter than the Government these people fight, not very well, to keep our way of life boring and dependable. Together they fight a skanky time travelling tart who’s put it about with two of the group of four and found the best way to maintain her skanky appearance is by using a set of shears to cut her hair. She also avoids having a bra over her leathery skin in favour of letting them swing free. Like gibbons.

Yes Primeval is back. A number of friends quite like it and I have to say I watch it to support any sense of production values from ITV who’s current out put feels like the noise a heart monitor makes just before they unplug the body. I hope that Primeval is the sound of an unexpected pulse rather than being wild fibrillation while others cry ‘Clear’ ZZzzzzzt!

I don’t care what anyone says, it’s pretty naff stuff. The Characters are overbearing, self-absorbed and spend a lot of time, when being chased by nasties, hanging around chatting about their Feeeeeeeelings.

This time there is a twist in that time has altered from the previous season and the lead chap is in a parallel world where his love interest is a completely different person. His wife – skanky tart has returned and is keen on stirring the old pot and giant worms from the Pre-Cambrian have turned up to eat us.

Hmmm. Well I’ll keep watching – if only to see whether ITV’s drama output becomes a thing of the past.

Lookey Likey!

We traveled to the other half's family today. Things were going quite well. His grandfather was positively chirpy which was great to see. His mother and brother were in fine form and his step-father had all his teeth out. Frankly this was probably a good thing as they'd been causing a problem for a while but given his face has gone the same shape as Cher's I now wonder if her work had meant removing all her gnashers. Assuming she had any by that stage!

I wouldn't be too surprised. I also accidentally caught the Graham Norton Containing Travesty of the Season that appears to have involved trawling a Norfolk Shopping Centre and putting the people obtained in bad wigs and making them perform, and I use the word loosely, songs of the people that they lookey likey. This was a surprise as the one resembling the lovechild of David Guest and Jeremy Beadle - and that would have been a congress to turn everyone celibate, blind, deaf and mute - sang Tom Jones songs. The one that looked like a bottle opener sang Diana Ross. There was even a lucky gonk - though he sang Rod Stewart. It's a scary show, particularly since their appearance and performance seemed to have no bearing and their assessed 'talent'. The winner gets to go to America and is presumably executed gangland style by the person that they were supposed to resemble.

Do you know, there are probably people who would do that just to get that close to a Celebrity.

I'd like to suggest an Idea for ITV1. It's called Talent Travesty Takeout. Members of the public who are completely obsessed by a Celebrity are permitted to stalk them for a day before having their brains blown out on live television.

And I claim my £1000000. Thank you!

I feel like Bonnie Tyler (cough)

It's been an interesting week since I've been back in the UK. I have had a variety of congestive complaints and now feel like an elderly lady with nothing to talk about but her health. Yes I had that. Oh yes and terrible corns... It's not much fun. So here I am awaiting my next course of antibiotics in the Lloyds pharmacy with David Essex playing.

My life could get worse – much worse but right now I’d just appreciate the variety.

Back with Amoxicillin

Amoxicillin - yes, it's very beneficial but frankly I'm sick of taking the bloody stuff. We came back from Spain on New Years Eve and I'd already been suffering from this blasted infection for 5 days! The Doctor peers in my ear and down my throat and tells me exactly what I already knew. Yes, you have an 'infection'.

And I hate antibiotics.

Anyway, the Spain trip went well. My stepfather is doing much better having had his spleen out. They've given him 2 short courses of Chemo which has left him like he's had the flu but he seems to be doing fine.

We're all so happy!

Christmas analogy.

Hubby and I have just started watching our newly purchased 'Key to Time' boxed set at a story a night. So far we've seen 'The Ribos Operation' which I rather enjoyed and 'The Pirate Planet', a much more crowd pleasing story with some pretty shallow performances and overblown plot. Love it though; there are some great character pieces with the Captain and Xanxia.

It's always felt like a large Christmas meal.

Ribos Operation
The breadsticks and starter - you know there's a good meal coming and are laying down the foundations
Pirate Planet
The wine! Lots of flavor, some which works and some which just jars a bit. Some is a little tasteless and there’s lots of contrast.
Stones of Blood & Androids of Tara
The meat courses. The solid drama in the middle which impressed you and at the end you know it was worth it.
Power of Kroll
An unexpected fish course which smells a bit funny.
Armageddon Factor
A leftover mince pie and sherry stretched for the evening by an unapologetic host. There’s a nice mint at the end though.

Christmas Chin

Here we are with Christmas fast approaching. Expanding waistlines abound! Good news has arrived as my stepfather has recovered enough to return home. It's been a pretty worrying time as he was the only family driver. My sister can now drive, thankfully and has helped out but I feel unexpectedly useless! Note to self: must learn to drive for independence purposes! We're due to visit for a week from 22nd which should be lovely and it looks like we'll be able to spend weeks at a time out there which is better than the previous long weekends.

I can't express how much I'm looking forward to it!

Hospital

It's been an interesting weekend in Spain. My stepfather is in hospital due to an unexplained unidentified illness which has left him anemic and with a swollen spleen. They’re still checking to see what it is but there is a disease which could cause it. It's called leachonosis. It's a disease which goats have. Dogs can catch it from them via insect bites as can humans. It sounds like doggy malaria. It can be treated in humans but dogs can never be cured. It's awful but we are hoping it is this condition as it shouldn't leave any lasting damage. Frankly I don't want to consider the alternatives.

The strangest thing is, I haven't heard of it! It's quite common but most people don't know about it. It's like visiting France and finding that smallpox is endemic or that the dormouse is a lethal killer. You think it would have come up but hasn’t!

Anyway, Spain was good otherwise. My sister ended up driving and she did really well as she's still only getting into Driving again after a short lapse.

However we did take the piss a bit.
She managed to get the car stuck in the mud and we had to get towed out.
She mounted the kerb on a roundabout.
She nearly took us to Roqettas del mar rather than home after she went the wrong way up the motorway.
She made up a song about finding a policeman up her bum after finding exactly that on the motorway.

So that was nice!

A Miscelany

Well, a bits been going on. We enjoyed the rest of the S-J Adventures. I visited my delightful sister out in the sticks and went mushroom picking with her. Had a great time with them - much relaxation and seeing a film called The Scanner Darkly and also the marvelous Life of Brian.

On my return to London I found my chest to still be very congested. It's been a bit grotty for a while, so I popped to my local surgery.

I have to take antibiotics as I have 'fluid' on the lungs - nice!

It at least explains why I've been feeling run down of late!

WOW!

Last night we had the inestimable Rob over for paprika Pork and cheesecake and a viewing of the latest Sarah Jane Adventures.

Wow. I don’t think we were expecting anything out of the ordinary but, well, Wow.

It was clever, atmospheric, scary, sinister, painful, superbly acted and, frankly has the kind of production values any adult drama should aspire to. As far as the content we had parallel universes, sinister aliens, magic boxes, time travel.

And the interesting inclusion of the Graske.

I thought Jane Asher was superb! A sympathetic character who is also a little bit nasty to save her own skin.

And for Sarah Jane to live – it appears she must die.

How’s that for Children’s telly?

Good Gravy!

It's been a bit of a week. We decided, this week, to have a quiet time for a change. Rather sadly this has not gone to plan.

On Wednesday the brother of ‘He who must be obeyed’ had a rather nasty car crash. He’s fine – which is a miracle – but his car is a write-off.

Thursday was a day spent manicaly sorting out some of the filing which hasn’t been doen for about 5 years. It’s rathe unsatisfying as nothing looks better unless you look inside the filing cabinet. However it took several hours and there’s more around the house to dispose of.

Saturday we did a flying trip to Letchworth to make sure everyone was OK, so lots of running around.

Sunday, a friend of us split up with his boyf. Rather nastly and worrisome and, though I’m happy to support, frankly very stressful and pressured.

And now I’m back at work again!

And this is eccentric

And not a little weird!

What have we become?

This is just horrible!