Mes Amis
Hi Ho, Hi Ho, its off to Bouchercon we'll hopefully go... So I sent off the form and booked the hotel room, now I just gotta figure out how to pay the flights... Jesus Christ, flying to Chicago is expensive! But I am looking forward to attending this most holy of crime cons... I've always fancied going to the Windy City, too...
Thump, crash, scream... I don't know what's going on upstairs... reckon new people have moved in but they're even louder than the porn stars who lived there before... One fella has a very deep voice and rumbles in the middle of the night... and someone has very fucking heavy feet... add to that they always have a car parked in the middle of the street outside and keep moving heavy items out to it...
Fags & Lager... The very talented Charlie Williams has a new book coming out on May 10th called Fags & Lager. He just updated his website, too: thisismangel.com is the homepage of his fictional, archetypal shite English town. Check out the used bookstore and the new natterings of the townsfolk...
Who's afraid of Gilliam McKeith?... Me, for one thing. My GOD, the woman is terrifying... and what the fuck kind of accent is that? I mean, really, where the hell was she brought up? Its even worse than Sheena fuckin' Easton's abortion of an accent. That and she looks like she has far too much skin, like its all drooping down because her tiny wee skeleton wasn't build to cope with it. And more than that *she never smiles*! She grimaces, but she can't smile and she can't crack a joke (check out that horrifically scary fucking picture on her website, the one where they airbrushed out her sunken eyes and drooping skin)... Quite frankly, I don't know why she's helping these people either... They're idiots... I mean they wouldn't be overweight if they ate real food and enjoyed it. Putting them on Llamma beans is a help to no one, Miss McKeith. Teach them to appreciate food and then we might be getting somewhere.
Anyway, mes amis, that's all for now.
Au Revoir
Russel
Wednesday, March 23
Sunday, March 20
Don't fire until you see the shites of their eyes...
Mes Amis
Dead Eyes... What the hell are we doing to our children? I mean, I never noticed before, but we're bringing up a generation of brain dead morons... I mean, I notice these things normally, but recently with World Book Day handing out vouchers to schools, the kids are coming into bookshops and pretending like they're interested in reading to get money off stuff (and they invariably buy crappy stationary rather than, say, an actual book). But when you have to serve so many of them at once you start to notice things... like they never fucking smile... like they're all pasty white and fat as hell... like their eyes have all the animation of those old Marvel Superhero Cartoons from the sixties (ie, none at all). I never usually worry much about the state of future generations, but if I can see any hope for the human race among these lot, its hidden really fucking well...
So you've only just noticed...? Wait a minute, cheerleaders "are doing things that are sexual"? You mean its something to do with "the way they move their bodies"? Is it just me or some people just daft? In an effort to have something to complain about - and ensuring as ever it has to do with traditional family values - those wacky Texans have decided to notice that girls in short skirts doing dance routines that involve splits and grinds might just be acting a little sexually. That some people might not take it to be the wholesome family entertainment that we're all sure its supposed to be. Well blow me over with a feather, fellas. I think you might just be in time to put a stop to the idea of people thinking cheerleaders act a little sexily...
Anyway, mes amis, that's all for now
Au Revoir
Russel
Dead Eyes... What the hell are we doing to our children? I mean, I never noticed before, but we're bringing up a generation of brain dead morons... I mean, I notice these things normally, but recently with World Book Day handing out vouchers to schools, the kids are coming into bookshops and pretending like they're interested in reading to get money off stuff (and they invariably buy crappy stationary rather than, say, an actual book). But when you have to serve so many of them at once you start to notice things... like they never fucking smile... like they're all pasty white and fat as hell... like their eyes have all the animation of those old Marvel Superhero Cartoons from the sixties (ie, none at all). I never usually worry much about the state of future generations, but if I can see any hope for the human race among these lot, its hidden really fucking well...
So you've only just noticed...? Wait a minute, cheerleaders "are doing things that are sexual"? You mean its something to do with "the way they move their bodies"? Is it just me or some people just daft? In an effort to have something to complain about - and ensuring as ever it has to do with traditional family values - those wacky Texans have decided to notice that girls in short skirts doing dance routines that involve splits and grinds might just be acting a little sexually. That some people might not take it to be the wholesome family entertainment that we're all sure its supposed to be. Well blow me over with a feather, fellas. I think you might just be in time to put a stop to the idea of people thinking cheerleaders act a little sexily...
Anyway, mes amis, that's all for now
Au Revoir
Russel
Thursday, March 17
Send in the clones...
Mes Amis
Hey, hey we're not quite the Monkees... The beautiful thing about having a day off work is that you can watch shitey TV all day and Channel 5 is, naturally, the best for truly bad daytime TV. Today's morning film was The Monkees Story starring a cast of very scary lookalikes (except the drummer - the one with the curly hair - who I know I recognised from somewhere else) in a pretty typical biopic. But the crowning moment of creepiness was when the Monkees found themselves floundering, looking for a new direction. In comes their manager with the idea of doing a movie and he's got the guy to write it. The Monkees look at the guy and say, "Hey, I know you, we've met you before. Jack Niclos, right?" At which point the dude in the bad wig pulls down his glasses and says in that creepy voice, with a toothy, crooked grin; "Nicholson." What was so strange about the two minute Jack Nicholson part was the way the poor actor kept slipping between a normal voice and the Jack voice, so you were never quite sure if he was getting it right... But it was a hell of an odd experience watching it because everyone (except the drummer) bore a creepy resemblance to their real life counterparts...
We Used To Kiss on the Lips, but Its All Over Now... Its a musical theme today. We all know (according to an Elmore Leonard novel I read years ago) what happens when you play country music backwards: your truck flips back onto its wheels, your dog comes back to life, you stop drinking and your wife comes back. But when you play it forwards, well, scientists can at last tell us whether it really does depress us to hear these guitar picking, lyric drawling songs woe: We contend that the themes found in country music foster a suicidal mood among people already at risk of suicide and that it is thereby associated with a high suicide rate. You want to know more? The abstract is right here but you have to join up to read the full report.
Anyway, mes amis, till next time
Au Revoir
Russel
Hey, hey we're not quite the Monkees... The beautiful thing about having a day off work is that you can watch shitey TV all day and Channel 5 is, naturally, the best for truly bad daytime TV. Today's morning film was The Monkees Story starring a cast of very scary lookalikes (except the drummer - the one with the curly hair - who I know I recognised from somewhere else) in a pretty typical biopic. But the crowning moment of creepiness was when the Monkees found themselves floundering, looking for a new direction. In comes their manager with the idea of doing a movie and he's got the guy to write it. The Monkees look at the guy and say, "Hey, I know you, we've met you before. Jack Niclos, right?" At which point the dude in the bad wig pulls down his glasses and says in that creepy voice, with a toothy, crooked grin; "Nicholson." What was so strange about the two minute Jack Nicholson part was the way the poor actor kept slipping between a normal voice and the Jack voice, so you were never quite sure if he was getting it right... But it was a hell of an odd experience watching it because everyone (except the drummer) bore a creepy resemblance to their real life counterparts...
We Used To Kiss on the Lips, but Its All Over Now... Its a musical theme today. We all know (according to an Elmore Leonard novel I read years ago) what happens when you play country music backwards: your truck flips back onto its wheels, your dog comes back to life, you stop drinking and your wife comes back. But when you play it forwards, well, scientists can at last tell us whether it really does depress us to hear these guitar picking, lyric drawling songs woe: We contend that the themes found in country music foster a suicidal mood among people already at risk of suicide and that it is thereby associated with a high suicide rate. You want to know more? The abstract is right here but you have to join up to read the full report.
Anyway, mes amis, till next time
Au Revoir
Russel
Criminally good
Mes Amis
Shameless self-promotion... Just a real quick post to say that for those of you who like dark edged crime fiction, who like shamless Chiklis-bashing (actually none this issue but we've done it a lot in the past) and those of you with nothing better to do, the new issue of crimescenescotland is online. Edited by yours truly and with some great short fiction, some insightful book reviews and other crime-fiction related paraphenalia, its well worth the admission price (which is free).
Sorry folks, this really was just self promotion today (I'll be back with more of the usual japes soon enough, though).
Au revoir
Russel
Shameless self-promotion... Just a real quick post to say that for those of you who like dark edged crime fiction, who like shamless Chiklis-bashing (actually none this issue but we've done it a lot in the past) and those of you with nothing better to do, the new issue of crimescenescotland is online. Edited by yours truly and with some great short fiction, some insightful book reviews and other crime-fiction related paraphenalia, its well worth the admission price (which is free).
Sorry folks, this really was just self promotion today (I'll be back with more of the usual japes soon enough, though).
Au revoir
Russel
Tuesday, March 15
and another thing.
Today has been a shitter. ALL day.
I think I'm getting the flu and my shoes are wet through from standing about in Castlemilk with a questionnaire. Bollocks.
So then I decided that instead of that I would rate my classmates on their general attractiveness.
To give you the general gist, rather than the 9 page report I got out of it, there's one I would, one I might and one I wouldn't. The one I would is because , rather than being conventionally attractive, he looks like he'd make an effort, which is important. And he wears rocket ship pants.
Saturday Night, dance ,I like the way you move....
Ohhhhhhh, guess what. Saturday night, Tim and Jenny. thats all I'll say. (No baby making but I'll be suprised if there was any skin left on lips sunday morning). yep.
Where has all the costa gone?
Costa guy isn't in today. What am I gonna do with all these rubber bands? I'd thought of something really dirty to say to him as well. Heh heh, I'm sleezie.
Casanova! (fuck off D'arcy)
I hope everyone watched casanova on sunday night? David Tennant was fabulous. (and he's from Paisley!) how good!!
honestly though, a really good programme, I'm not going to say 'romp'
nope, no, noooooo.
fuckit, it was a romp. A snapped pant elastic romp.
If I could acheive sleezieness half as good as him I'd be one happy bunnie.
One of my favorite lines saw casanova lying in bed with his wife to be and he says
"do you know what Casanova means in the original Latin?No? It means Lucky Bastard."
That I think just gives the measure of the guy. Nice.
I have had no other TV watching. Except for BBC 3's offering of Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry in 'Jeeves and Wooster' I don't think I need to tell anyone how ace this series is.
I think I'm getting the flu and my shoes are wet through from standing about in Castlemilk with a questionnaire. Bollocks.
So then I decided that instead of that I would rate my classmates on their general attractiveness.
To give you the general gist, rather than the 9 page report I got out of it, there's one I would, one I might and one I wouldn't. The one I would is because , rather than being conventionally attractive, he looks like he'd make an effort, which is important. And he wears rocket ship pants.
Saturday Night, dance ,I like the way you move....
Ohhhhhhh, guess what. Saturday night, Tim and Jenny. thats all I'll say. (No baby making but I'll be suprised if there was any skin left on lips sunday morning). yep.
Where has all the costa gone?
Costa guy isn't in today. What am I gonna do with all these rubber bands? I'd thought of something really dirty to say to him as well. Heh heh, I'm sleezie.
Casanova! (fuck off D'arcy)
I hope everyone watched casanova on sunday night? David Tennant was fabulous. (and he's from Paisley!) how good!!
honestly though, a really good programme, I'm not going to say 'romp'
nope, no, noooooo.
fuckit, it was a romp. A snapped pant elastic romp.
If I could acheive sleezieness half as good as him I'd be one happy bunnie.
One of my favorite lines saw casanova lying in bed with his wife to be and he says
"do you know what Casanova means in the original Latin?No? It means Lucky Bastard."
That I think just gives the measure of the guy. Nice.
I have had no other TV watching. Except for BBC 3's offering of Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry in 'Jeeves and Wooster' I don't think I need to tell anyone how ace this series is.
Homosexuals are gay.
The first documented homosexual necrophiliac duck eh??
One thing to say: Count Duckula.
Homosexual? Definitely.
Necrophiliac? Yep. (well he was dead wasn't he?)
AND vegetarian!
Come back to me with better than that "Dr" and then I'll be impressed.
Plus, you are criticising the duck? You sat and watched it for hours and made notes.
Notes!!
Then, you sick twisted duck fetishist, you photographed it.blugh.
Plus I'd reall, really like to hear of consentual duck sex.
They have conversation noises, according to your paper so maybe they have consent noises.
Maybe the noise of your dirty face squeaking on the glass sounded like consent noises?? Hmmm?
Or maybe each duckie thrust forced air out of the dead ducks lungs and sounded, in duck language, like "oh, oh, yeaah" Bet he never thought of that.
One thing to say: Count Duckula.
Homosexual? Definitely.
Necrophiliac? Yep. (well he was dead wasn't he?)
AND vegetarian!
Come back to me with better than that "Dr" and then I'll be impressed.
Plus, you are criticising the duck? You sat and watched it for hours and made notes.
Notes!!
Then, you sick twisted duck fetishist, you photographed it.blugh.
Plus I'd reall, really like to hear of consentual duck sex.
They have conversation noises, according to your paper so maybe they have consent noises.
Maybe the noise of your dirty face squeaking on the glass sounded like consent noises?? Hmmm?
Or maybe each duckie thrust forced air out of the dead ducks lungs and sounded, in duck language, like "oh, oh, yeaah" Bet he never thought of that.
Saturday, March 12
Frankly, my dear, I don't give a duck...
Mes Amis
Duck me... Just a quick one, because this kind of tickled my fancy in an odd way (although not in the same way that the duck in question's fancy was tickled). Any academic paper about homosexual necrophilia in ducks either proves the world is far stranger than we thought or that academics really do have too much time on their hands...
Till next time, mes amis
Au Revoir
Russel
Duck me... Just a quick one, because this kind of tickled my fancy in an odd way (although not in the same way that the duck in question's fancy was tickled). Any academic paper about homosexual necrophilia in ducks either proves the world is far stranger than we thought or that academics really do have too much time on their hands...
Till next time, mes amis
Au Revoir
Russel
Revenge of the Syph
Mes Amis
Cosmic Wars... Quite, frankly, George "Who needs a script when I've got a computer?" Lucas, I don't give a shit any more. You can claim that Revenge of the Syph (or whatever you're calling it now) is going to be "much more dark…more emotional. It's much more of a tragedy" (according to sources right here) but you're forgetting the high standards of "emotion" your previous films have set. If by emotion you mean cloying, cute-kid-with-daft-haircut-and-big-eyes sentimentality then you gave us enough of that with The Phantom Menace... if by emotion you mean a couple of scenes with Natalie Portman being demeaned by forcing herself to make googly eyes at Hayden "Can you give me expressive features with the CGI rendering, George?"Christiansen against a backdrop of some standard alien landscape replete with cute, "alien" Highland cows then you made me puke all over the floor when my then girlfriend dragged me to see Attack of the Clowns (she enjoyed it, but then, she also enjoyed 40 Days And 40 Nights, too, so that's probably why she's my "then" girlfriend and not my "now" girlfriend). You're not convincing anyone, okay? The first three films (well the second half of the first, the whole of the second and maybe the first third of the third) were fun and still allowed you to make bucketloads of cash from the merchandising... but now you've convinced everyone apart from the die-hard delusionals and the five year olds that the Star Wars movies aren't worth going to see. Oh, and you've just eliminated half that audience, of course - - "I don't think I would take a five- or a six-year-old to this It's way too strong."
However... I did grin like a little boy when Yoda did his pinball impression. But two hours of pain for two seconds of guilty pleasure? Hardly seems fair, does it?
Ain't it Uncool... I used to love Ain't It Cool for its homespun approach to movies and geek-like tendencies. It used to be kinda fun to hang around until it became homeground to illiterate "reviews" and whiny-ass forum dwellers who have a sub-mental age of five (Hey, I just called you gay and I said ass...)... I even have a review (complete with a few flubs about the film in question's pedigree) up there myself from a few years ago... But now I feel terribly mature. I'm still a geek, but I need a movie site with more meat on the bones and less chance for the assholes of the world to start pretending they're funny... and I found it... Mary Ann Johansen runs the Flick Filosopher in a dictatorial fashion which means you have continuity of opinion and some very smartly written reviews. She is equal parts geek, intelligent film-critic, very funny and just a generally personable lady to judge by her easygoing style. Even when I don't agree with her opinions she puts across such an eloquent and often amusing point you just have to forgive her. So for those of you who want a film reviewer who's, well, a little more like you than the rest, that's my reccomendation for the day.
Well, that's all for today, mes amis
Au Revoir
Russel
Cosmic Wars... Quite, frankly, George "Who needs a script when I've got a computer?" Lucas, I don't give a shit any more. You can claim that Revenge of the Syph (or whatever you're calling it now) is going to be "much more dark…more emotional. It's much more of a tragedy" (according to sources right here) but you're forgetting the high standards of "emotion" your previous films have set. If by emotion you mean cloying, cute-kid-with-daft-haircut-and-big-eyes sentimentality then you gave us enough of that with The Phantom Menace... if by emotion you mean a couple of scenes with Natalie Portman being demeaned by forcing herself to make googly eyes at Hayden "Can you give me expressive features with the CGI rendering, George?"Christiansen against a backdrop of some standard alien landscape replete with cute, "alien" Highland cows then you made me puke all over the floor when my then girlfriend dragged me to see Attack of the Clowns (she enjoyed it, but then, she also enjoyed 40 Days And 40 Nights, too, so that's probably why she's my "then" girlfriend and not my "now" girlfriend). You're not convincing anyone, okay? The first three films (well the second half of the first, the whole of the second and maybe the first third of the third) were fun and still allowed you to make bucketloads of cash from the merchandising... but now you've convinced everyone apart from the die-hard delusionals and the five year olds that the Star Wars movies aren't worth going to see. Oh, and you've just eliminated half that audience, of course - - "I don't think I would take a five- or a six-year-old to this It's way too strong."
However... I did grin like a little boy when Yoda did his pinball impression. But two hours of pain for two seconds of guilty pleasure? Hardly seems fair, does it?
Ain't it Uncool... I used to love Ain't It Cool for its homespun approach to movies and geek-like tendencies. It used to be kinda fun to hang around until it became homeground to illiterate "reviews" and whiny-ass forum dwellers who have a sub-mental age of five (Hey, I just called you gay and I said ass...)... I even have a review (complete with a few flubs about the film in question's pedigree) up there myself from a few years ago... But now I feel terribly mature. I'm still a geek, but I need a movie site with more meat on the bones and less chance for the assholes of the world to start pretending they're funny... and I found it... Mary Ann Johansen runs the Flick Filosopher in a dictatorial fashion which means you have continuity of opinion and some very smartly written reviews. She is equal parts geek, intelligent film-critic, very funny and just a generally personable lady to judge by her easygoing style. Even when I don't agree with her opinions she puts across such an eloquent and often amusing point you just have to forgive her. So for those of you who want a film reviewer who's, well, a little more like you than the rest, that's my reccomendation for the day.
Well, that's all for today, mes amis
Au Revoir
Russel
Friday, March 11
oh yeah..
Russ, you watched will and grace? you embarrassment to all mankind that you are.
You'll never get to heaven now!
You'll never get to heaven now!
to late!.....
well, I missed the guy sitting in the bath of beans outside RSMD today for comic relief, I'm quite disappointed, beans are ace. plus anyone not wearing a full quota of clothing in Glasgow is something to see!
Talking of beans I actually got the guy at costa sighing at me! A real huhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
He could have bean bored (bean! geddit!Arf....bugger me thats wit) But I took it as "gosh you wonderful person, I wish to cover you in costas patent chocolatey powder stuff and sneeze it off you"
He looks really innocent, I wonder what I could make him to do?. Something involving chocolate flakes and rubber bands me thinks. I bet I could take pictures, obviously I'd need to put the old camera in a plastic bag, chocolate is a nightmare to get off your lens, so to speak. Then I'd make him sit on my knee.
So, CSI. What are you doing Grissom? leave those glasses alone. I know you only got them at the start of the series but they are not that exciting.
Get contact Lenses.
I was thinking though, if Horatio Crane is really that clever he would never have moved to Miami, everyone knows that with that skin tone he would have been one giant freckle by the end of one day, either that or his skin would go all leathery and horny looking. Oh...
You have to hand it to good Ole Jerry Bruckheimer, not one but two actors that resemble aged carrots. Go Willows.
However do I like CSI: NY. Gary Sinese is a complete stunner of an actor. I won't even mention the other guys in the series as frankly, they can close the door on the way out. Just call it CSI: Gary Sinese. We likey. but do we really need another angst ridden chap with a snappy first name? No, we don't.
I wanted to just mention, in passing, my desire for whoever sanctioned 'masterchef:goes large' to be flayed to DEATH with a piece of slightly underdone asparagus, possibly with a light basalmic dressing.
John Torrode and Gregg Wallace present this frankly guff bit of cuisine show cooking.
John Torrode is billed as a 'top london chef' , when personally I think he's a top antipodean twat.
He hates everthing with equal fevour.Lets look at a typical quote from the bold John: "hmmm, Im reallly, really worried about the use of cinnamon with parsnips". Agggghhh for fuck sake John, let 'em try it! I didn't think quavers would go with tomato cup-a-soup but now I'm enlightened! Gregg Wallace, or the baldy one, as I like to call him is billed as 'vegetable guru' well. Need I say more? He is one of the most respected vegetables on TV I've ever seen. Thats all I'll say
See yous all later
till later, my foody chums
Talking of beans I actually got the guy at costa sighing at me! A real huhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
He could have bean bored (bean! geddit!Arf....bugger me thats wit) But I took it as "gosh you wonderful person, I wish to cover you in costas patent chocolatey powder stuff and sneeze it off you"
He looks really innocent, I wonder what I could make him to do?. Something involving chocolate flakes and rubber bands me thinks. I bet I could take pictures, obviously I'd need to put the old camera in a plastic bag, chocolate is a nightmare to get off your lens, so to speak. Then I'd make him sit on my knee.
So, CSI. What are you doing Grissom? leave those glasses alone. I know you only got them at the start of the series but they are not that exciting.
Get contact Lenses.
I was thinking though, if Horatio Crane is really that clever he would never have moved to Miami, everyone knows that with that skin tone he would have been one giant freckle by the end of one day, either that or his skin would go all leathery and horny looking. Oh...
You have to hand it to good Ole Jerry Bruckheimer, not one but two actors that resemble aged carrots. Go Willows.
However do I like CSI: NY. Gary Sinese is a complete stunner of an actor. I won't even mention the other guys in the series as frankly, they can close the door on the way out. Just call it CSI: Gary Sinese. We likey. but do we really need another angst ridden chap with a snappy first name? No, we don't.
I wanted to just mention, in passing, my desire for whoever sanctioned 'masterchef:goes large' to be flayed to DEATH with a piece of slightly underdone asparagus, possibly with a light basalmic dressing.
John Torrode and Gregg Wallace present this frankly guff bit of cuisine show cooking.
John Torrode is billed as a 'top london chef' , when personally I think he's a top antipodean twat.
He hates everthing with equal fevour.Lets look at a typical quote from the bold John: "hmmm, Im reallly, really worried about the use of cinnamon with parsnips". Agggghhh for fuck sake John, let 'em try it! I didn't think quavers would go with tomato cup-a-soup but now I'm enlightened! Gregg Wallace, or the baldy one, as I like to call him is billed as 'vegetable guru' well. Need I say more? He is one of the most respected vegetables on TV I've ever seen. Thats all I'll say
See yous all later
till later, my foody chums
Thursday, March 10
Gnashing Teeth
Mes Amis
So... you come back with a lucid and rather amusing post, just proving the point that you are an amusing person (of which anyone who has met you has no doubt; you should hear this girl when someone angers her, both funny and rather terrifying!). I have realised, of course, I post here a lot, and I was the boy who thought "I'll never do this bloody blog slog!" Its fucking addictive...
Gnash Gnash... I'll save the gnashing of teeth, though. I think people may have gathered I do the odd bit of writing from one of my previous posts about rejection letters, but its occasional at the moment... But I am sorry about the rugs... its only when people feed me Bud that happens...
Get back to work you fuckin' slacker... Yes, I know, I have deadlines and work shite to do. And what have I done today? Played GTA: San Andreas most of the day and eaten far too much pizza. I have been trying to come up with a research proposal for funding but my heart's not been in it today at all... So I've watched bad sitcoms on cable (The only thing worse than Daddio is Will and fuckin' Grace - - at least Daddio knows - on some unconscious level at least - that its crap whereas Will and Grace has delusions of humour; I can't believe I let the ads sucker me into watching the first fifteen minutes of an episiode which would have been spent gouging out my eyeballs with a very sharp carrot) and played computer games all day. Real productive, huh?
So back to pretending to work; that's all for now, mes amis...
Au revoir
Russel
So... you come back with a lucid and rather amusing post, just proving the point that you are an amusing person (of which anyone who has met you has no doubt; you should hear this girl when someone angers her, both funny and rather terrifying!). I have realised, of course, I post here a lot, and I was the boy who thought "I'll never do this bloody blog slog!" Its fucking addictive...
Gnash Gnash... I'll save the gnashing of teeth, though. I think people may have gathered I do the odd bit of writing from one of my previous posts about rejection letters, but its occasional at the moment... But I am sorry about the rugs... its only when people feed me Bud that happens...
Get back to work you fuckin' slacker... Yes, I know, I have deadlines and work shite to do. And what have I done today? Played GTA: San Andreas most of the day and eaten far too much pizza. I have been trying to come up with a research proposal for funding but my heart's not been in it today at all... So I've watched bad sitcoms on cable (The only thing worse than Daddio is Will and fuckin' Grace - - at least Daddio knows - on some unconscious level at least - that its crap whereas Will and Grace has delusions of humour; I can't believe I let the ads sucker me into watching the first fifteen minutes of an episiode which would have been spent gouging out my eyeballs with a very sharp carrot) and played computer games all day. Real productive, huh?
So back to pretending to work; that's all for now, mes amis...
Au revoir
Russel
lets get something clear from the off....
Okay some of you groovy chickies might have noticed by now that the content in this blog varies tremendously between me: geofreak and russ: er...russ.
I actually do have a reason, excuse whatever. No, wait. I can hear you going "yeah, you suck" but honest , hear me out. Grab a coffee...
Okay, first off russ has internet access at home, I don't. I have no way of blogging except in uni IT Labs. So they tend to be few and far between.
Second, and this is the ball buster. This is the Laurel to the Hardy.
Russ is a published author.
Now I'm sure he's reading this now, hissing between clenched teeth that I've told you but hey, we're all pals. Buddies almost. Chums.
So the quality of my writing and his are real, real different. I'm more: " Hey this drunk person has scrawled something on a napkin"
russ is like a caffine fuelled story machine.
Plus he's side splittingly funny and I'm not.
So he's great,I'm not ( but don't invite him round your house; it'll take you ages to get the stains out the rug).
I actually do have a reason, excuse whatever. No, wait. I can hear you going "yeah, you suck" but honest , hear me out. Grab a coffee...
Okay, first off russ has internet access at home, I don't. I have no way of blogging except in uni IT Labs. So they tend to be few and far between.
Second, and this is the ball buster. This is the Laurel to the Hardy.
Russ is a published author.
Now I'm sure he's reading this now, hissing between clenched teeth that I've told you but hey, we're all pals. Buddies almost. Chums.
So the quality of my writing and his are real, real different. I'm more: " Hey this drunk person has scrawled something on a napkin"
russ is like a caffine fuelled story machine.
Plus he's side splittingly funny and I'm not.
So he's great,I'm not ( but don't invite him round your house; it'll take you ages to get the stains out the rug).
Barbed Wire
Mes Amis
Fundy Bones.... I hate applying for funding. At this stage you would think a postgrad might be treated as a professional, maybe given some kind of salary, some help with their project. But no, not if you're in the social fucking sciences. And most especially not if you're a philosopher. So here we go, year two of applying for funding and if I don't get it this year that's my academic life screwed...
Cold Harbours... Maybe Andy Cox was listenting to my complaints the other day (but I doubt it!)... CW8 has a cool looking cover and may actually be out some time this year.
Unhinged Melody... Wire in the Blood, starring Robson Greene (Yes, that Robson Greene) as psychiatrist Tony Hill is probably one of the best running dramas ITV has put out for a while. Normally it wouldn't be saying much but its a diverting couple of hours on a Monday night... except for the fact that I honestly can't believe one city (the fictional town of Bradford) could seriously house so many deviants and psychopaths. Just burn the fucking place to the ground and be done with it! At least its more believable than Midsummer Murders where the solution would seem to be just lock up the whole damn village the minute any crime is committed. They're all going to be guilty at some point given the laws of averages... Anyway, the point is that I'm still not sure how to take Greene's performance. He seems to be utterly at odds with the rest of the show, tripping the fine line between interminably creepy and the ludicrously camp. While everyone else looks grim, Dr Hill pads about the victim's last place muttering to himself and looking surprised every time he looks up from his feet... One more reason to burn Bradfield down and start again... the good guys are every bit as nutty as the serial killers they're trying to catch...
Anyway, mes amis, that's all for now.
Au Revoir
Russel
Fundy Bones.... I hate applying for funding. At this stage you would think a postgrad might be treated as a professional, maybe given some kind of salary, some help with their project. But no, not if you're in the social fucking sciences. And most especially not if you're a philosopher. So here we go, year two of applying for funding and if I don't get it this year that's my academic life screwed...
Cold Harbours... Maybe Andy Cox was listenting to my complaints the other day (but I doubt it!)... CW8 has a cool looking cover and may actually be out some time this year.
Unhinged Melody... Wire in the Blood, starring Robson Greene (Yes, that Robson Greene) as psychiatrist Tony Hill is probably one of the best running dramas ITV has put out for a while. Normally it wouldn't be saying much but its a diverting couple of hours on a Monday night... except for the fact that I honestly can't believe one city (the fictional town of Bradford) could seriously house so many deviants and psychopaths. Just burn the fucking place to the ground and be done with it! At least its more believable than Midsummer Murders where the solution would seem to be just lock up the whole damn village the minute any crime is committed. They're all going to be guilty at some point given the laws of averages... Anyway, the point is that I'm still not sure how to take Greene's performance. He seems to be utterly at odds with the rest of the show, tripping the fine line between interminably creepy and the ludicrously camp. While everyone else looks grim, Dr Hill pads about the victim's last place muttering to himself and looking surprised every time he looks up from his feet... One more reason to burn Bradfield down and start again... the good guys are every bit as nutty as the serial killers they're trying to catch...
Anyway, mes amis, that's all for now.
Au Revoir
Russel
Wednesday, March 9
"Say hello to my leedle friend..."
Mes Amis
What hope is there...? There aren't that many paying print British magazines for crime fiction out there... sure there's Bullet and, um, um... well there was Crimewave who were the great hope for British short fiction. They were a little literary for me sometimes, and maybe a tiny bit poseur but there was always something I could find to read in there. But now they've been gone for over a year and Andy Cox keeps saying he'll come back to it soon, but so far no sign. He's naturally busy with the new Interzone magazine and with TTA itself. But without a regular crime magazine, its not wonder that the British short stories are thin on the ground. I do hope Andy gets back to CW soon but I'm a little worried, to be honest, that there might be a fatal announcement soon.
"Nothing exceeds like excess..." I'm going through my old movies at the moment. Its great remembering why I bought them all in the first place. Most of these things are still fresh as hell and Scarface is not exception. It is, on the face of it, a garishly violent move, but then one feels that is precisely the point. As Michelle Pfeiffer points out, "nothing exceeds like excess" and this movie is all about 80's excess. From the horrific tiger print car to the grand mansion with a tiger in the grounds that Tony Montana finally buys for himself, everything in this movie points to the horror of having everything and how the more you have the more you lose touch with reality. On top of that it has one of the most melodramatic and fantastically violent movie endings I've ever enjoyed. If you haven't seen it (and why not?) watch it. Now.
Isn't it nice to be nice?... I hate rejection letters. I get a lot of them. Its part of what I do. Every writer has drawers full of the buggers. But I got a real nice one today which is very odd. I don't know, actually, if its worse than a brush off. Basically, "Of the several submissions you've sent us this one comes closest to being a [magazine's name] story" before going on to praise the characters and local colour but saying it was a bit long and the actual case wasn't surprising. Although the case wasn't the point of the tale, I can accept this. But it is nice when people are nice - - even when they have to do something horrible like write a rejection letter.
Anyway, till next time, mes amis
Au revoir
Russel
What hope is there...? There aren't that many paying print British magazines for crime fiction out there... sure there's Bullet and, um, um... well there was Crimewave who were the great hope for British short fiction. They were a little literary for me sometimes, and maybe a tiny bit poseur but there was always something I could find to read in there. But now they've been gone for over a year and Andy Cox keeps saying he'll come back to it soon, but so far no sign. He's naturally busy with the new Interzone magazine and with TTA itself. But without a regular crime magazine, its not wonder that the British short stories are thin on the ground. I do hope Andy gets back to CW soon but I'm a little worried, to be honest, that there might be a fatal announcement soon.
"Nothing exceeds like excess..." I'm going through my old movies at the moment. Its great remembering why I bought them all in the first place. Most of these things are still fresh as hell and Scarface is not exception. It is, on the face of it, a garishly violent move, but then one feels that is precisely the point. As Michelle Pfeiffer points out, "nothing exceeds like excess" and this movie is all about 80's excess. From the horrific tiger print car to the grand mansion with a tiger in the grounds that Tony Montana finally buys for himself, everything in this movie points to the horror of having everything and how the more you have the more you lose touch with reality. On top of that it has one of the most melodramatic and fantastically violent movie endings I've ever enjoyed. If you haven't seen it (and why not?) watch it. Now.
Isn't it nice to be nice?... I hate rejection letters. I get a lot of them. Its part of what I do. Every writer has drawers full of the buggers. But I got a real nice one today which is very odd. I don't know, actually, if its worse than a brush off. Basically, "Of the several submissions you've sent us this one comes closest to being a [magazine's name] story" before going on to praise the characters and local colour but saying it was a bit long and the actual case wasn't surprising. Although the case wasn't the point of the tale, I can accept this. But it is nice when people are nice - - even when they have to do something horrible like write a rejection letter.
Anyway, till next time, mes amis
Au revoir
Russel
Tuesday, March 8
Just get on the fucking bus....
So today the elderly seem to be on a drive to piss us off.
Sat on the bus and this old dear( you know the kind, gnarly) says "is this the glasgow bus?"
well thats what it says on the front says the driver, but y'know she could have cateracts so thats excuseable but then she says
"do you go into glasgow?"
you couldn't have cut the atmoshphere with a cleaver.
Like " No, we're actually the 'straight through and out the other side without stopping bus' actually, but if you would like to hang to the bumper we can slow down enough to let you off without too much harm.
Honest to god, I don't think age kills you, it's thinking like that. Then your brain does the humane thing and 'plink' goodnight vienna.
Sat on the bus and this old dear( you know the kind, gnarly) says "is this the glasgow bus?"
well thats what it says on the front says the driver, but y'know she could have cateracts so thats excuseable but then she says
"do you go into glasgow?"
you couldn't have cut the atmoshphere with a cleaver.
Like " No, we're actually the 'straight through and out the other side without stopping bus' actually, but if you would like to hang to the bumper we can slow down enough to let you off without too much harm.
Honest to god, I don't think age kills you, it's thinking like that. Then your brain does the humane thing and 'plink' goodnight vienna.
Sunday, March 6
"Don't Pick on the Endangered spieces..."
Mes Amis
I feel like killing tonight... Adverts are Satan's sperm, my friends. Honest to God, more than making me want to spend my money on the goods or services in question they just make me want to go out and rip the head off some fucking smug bastard advertising exec... I'm thinking at the moment of the Chicken Tonight adverts with that bloody Panda and his stupid bloody voice... "By eck, Ah feel like Beef Tonight"... The more I see these adverts the more I don't wonder why I'm not out there cleansing the streets of the morons who actually find it funny...
Jack, don't disobey orders.... Speaking of adverts, what the hell are those tags on the ad breaks on 24? For some car. And there's a bank robbery and some bored looking ginger fellow with a bad beard who sits at the window or the restaurant and watches his car like he's waiting to see death sitting in the passenger seat and telling him to take a rise. Its irritating, pointless and maybe even worse than the Panda... but at least its swiftly followed by Jack "Why haven't I been killed yet by my own stupid decisions" Bauer and his increasingly ludicrous adventures... This just gets better and better... Bay-roooooooooos (As his mother calls him) has finally realised his parents are ludicrously inept terrorists and killed a professional assasin... Jack's been dibsoeying orders in order to get to the next firefight... and now Tony's back! Tony "Superman" Alemida, who last year miraculously recovered from a bullet in the neck after one hour, has showed up to save Jack's ass. Looks like he might have grown back the stupid beard from season one again, too. Ah, its all so improbable but oh-so-much fun.
The Last Blues... No! Noooooo!!! After thirteen years, NYPD Blue is off the air... We're still several years behind in the UK but if you must know, then Allan Sepinwall has all the dirt (along with stalwart reviewer Amanda Wilson) right here. I love this show, and think even if Andy did soften over the years it was still always one of the top shows going. And even when it got Zack from Saved By The Bell cast opposite Dennis Franz it was still top... So farewell, Blue, its been fun. But at least I got a few years of catch up before its properly over for me (provided CH4 get off their arse and show the fucking thing!)
Anyway, that's all for now, mes amis.
Au Revoir
Russel
I feel like killing tonight... Adverts are Satan's sperm, my friends. Honest to God, more than making me want to spend my money on the goods or services in question they just make me want to go out and rip the head off some fucking smug bastard advertising exec... I'm thinking at the moment of the Chicken Tonight adverts with that bloody Panda and his stupid bloody voice... "By eck, Ah feel like Beef Tonight"... The more I see these adverts the more I don't wonder why I'm not out there cleansing the streets of the morons who actually find it funny...
Jack, don't disobey orders.... Speaking of adverts, what the hell are those tags on the ad breaks on 24? For some car. And there's a bank robbery and some bored looking ginger fellow with a bad beard who sits at the window or the restaurant and watches his car like he's waiting to see death sitting in the passenger seat and telling him to take a rise. Its irritating, pointless and maybe even worse than the Panda... but at least its swiftly followed by Jack "Why haven't I been killed yet by my own stupid decisions" Bauer and his increasingly ludicrous adventures... This just gets better and better... Bay-roooooooooos (As his mother calls him) has finally realised his parents are ludicrously inept terrorists and killed a professional assasin... Jack's been dibsoeying orders in order to get to the next firefight... and now Tony's back! Tony "Superman" Alemida, who last year miraculously recovered from a bullet in the neck after one hour, has showed up to save Jack's ass. Looks like he might have grown back the stupid beard from season one again, too. Ah, its all so improbable but oh-so-much fun.
The Last Blues... No! Noooooo!!! After thirteen years, NYPD Blue is off the air... We're still several years behind in the UK but if you must know, then Allan Sepinwall has all the dirt (along with stalwart reviewer Amanda Wilson) right here. I love this show, and think even if Andy did soften over the years it was still always one of the top shows going. And even when it got Zack from Saved By The Bell cast opposite Dennis Franz it was still top... So farewell, Blue, its been fun. But at least I got a few years of catch up before its properly over for me (provided CH4 get off their arse and show the fucking thing!)
Anyway, that's all for now, mes amis.
Au Revoir
Russel
Friday, March 4
"Be Cool..."
Mes Amis
Let's go see Charlton Heston be a Mexican... I loved Get Shorty, I really did. It was, for me, the first time a film captured the Leonard spark with Travolta really getting Chili Palmer down as a character. It was a small film, really, which is why it worked. It wasn't trying to be something it wasn't and it also had Ray "Bones" Barboni (Dennis Farina) who is just always a great hardass (same character most films, but damn is he good at it!). But I'm not excited about Be Cool at all. It feels too late for one thing and for another, well, the book wasn't one of Leonard's best, either. It had its moments but overall I found it pretty forgettable (Still one or two minor blips in a career like Leonard's is nothing to worry about and his latest books show him back on form). And even the reviews there on Leonard's official site seem, well, lukewarm at best. A couple of years back I would have been real excited for this film, but I don't know, it just seems wrong and more than anything its the kind of project I think Chili wouldn't have been involved with. One thing about the book I love, though, is that opening scene where they're talking about the sequel to the movie they made about Chili's adventures in Get Shorty... The movie execs called the sequel Get Lost if I remember correctly...
Talking of films... Ray Banks is talking about Get Carter over on his website/blog/post-office-hatred-site at the moment. And its a great film, sure, but when he lists great Brit crime thrillers he leaves off one of my favourites - - Face, starring Robert Carlyle and Ray Winstone. This is a superb, overlooked thriller from the late nineties that got kinda lost in the system. But despite a cameo by Damon Albarn (Actually, he's very good) this is a superb, tight and gripping crime thriller that I always thought needed more recogition.
Anyway, mes amis, that's all for now.
Au Revoir
Russel
Let's go see Charlton Heston be a Mexican... I loved Get Shorty, I really did. It was, for me, the first time a film captured the Leonard spark with Travolta really getting Chili Palmer down as a character. It was a small film, really, which is why it worked. It wasn't trying to be something it wasn't and it also had Ray "Bones" Barboni (Dennis Farina) who is just always a great hardass (same character most films, but damn is he good at it!). But I'm not excited about Be Cool at all. It feels too late for one thing and for another, well, the book wasn't one of Leonard's best, either. It had its moments but overall I found it pretty forgettable (Still one or two minor blips in a career like Leonard's is nothing to worry about and his latest books show him back on form). And even the reviews there on Leonard's official site seem, well, lukewarm at best. A couple of years back I would have been real excited for this film, but I don't know, it just seems wrong and more than anything its the kind of project I think Chili wouldn't have been involved with. One thing about the book I love, though, is that opening scene where they're talking about the sequel to the movie they made about Chili's adventures in Get Shorty... The movie execs called the sequel Get Lost if I remember correctly...
Talking of films... Ray Banks is talking about Get Carter over on his website/blog/post-office-hatred-site at the moment. And its a great film, sure, but when he lists great Brit crime thrillers he leaves off one of my favourites - - Face, starring Robert Carlyle and Ray Winstone. This is a superb, overlooked thriller from the late nineties that got kinda lost in the system. But despite a cameo by Damon Albarn (Actually, he's very good) this is a superb, tight and gripping crime thriller that I always thought needed more recogition.
Anyway, mes amis, that's all for now.
Au Revoir
Russel
Thursday, March 3
Aint science grand?
Mes Amis
Hobbit, hobbit, hobbit (a-la Chas n Dave)... Its been confirmed. Robe wearing, ring-searching oddballs everywhere can rejoice, hobbits are apparently real. And their brains may be just a little like ours. Tomorrow: leprechauns found in pack of Lucky Charms...
Hello, Mr Pipkin?... Watched King of Comedy again last night. What a cringeworthy work of genius. Honestly, you have to ask yourself, am *I* like that? Could I have the capacity to be so self deluded? Its De Niro's finest hour, Jerry Lewis is brilliant and Sandra Bernhard is just loopy. Its unsurprising that it bombed but it is a brilliant film, nonetheless. Just very, very uncomfortable to watch...
That's all for today, mes amis
Au Revoir
Russel
Hobbit, hobbit, hobbit (a-la Chas n Dave)... Its been confirmed. Robe wearing, ring-searching oddballs everywhere can rejoice, hobbits are apparently real. And their brains may be just a little like ours. Tomorrow: leprechauns found in pack of Lucky Charms...
Hello, Mr Pipkin?... Watched King of Comedy again last night. What a cringeworthy work of genius. Honestly, you have to ask yourself, am *I* like that? Could I have the capacity to be so self deluded? Its De Niro's finest hour, Jerry Lewis is brilliant and Sandra Bernhard is just loopy. Its unsurprising that it bombed but it is a brilliant film, nonetheless. Just very, very uncomfortable to watch...
That's all for today, mes amis
Au Revoir
Russel
Wednesday, March 2
The Perils of the Blog
Mes Amis
Ah, fuck... People are finding their way here... people who know who I am (unless its just a coincidence and they don't realise...)... I almost thought I could get away with it too... Just post and slink away... And I would have if it hadn't been for those meddling kids...
Loud Neighbours... I currently have the Quireboys jacked up to top volume. I don't care if it pisses off my downstairs neighbour (A professional hypnotist - look into my eyes, not around my eyes...) because I have to do something to block out the squeals from above... earlier, crooner boy was singing some of Frankie's greatest hits... and now, well, the girlfriend's come home... how do I know? She's Leslie fucking Garret or something. When she hits orgasm, all my wine glasses shatter. "Oh, that's it, that's the stuff, Stuff it in my Traviata" and so forth... They must know we can hear them...
Any More Morons? Its an old one, this, but since other people aside from Becs must be popping through I figure you might like this thicko customer who came in (she was around eighteen and wore sixteen inches of makeup and earrings that would have made Pat from Eastenders proud) and came up to the desk, leaning over conspiratorially. "Have ye got this, ken, like, this book, like," she says. I figure its best to wait at this point, see if she has one in mind. "Aye, ken, so its like about these fuckin' virginities, like, and they commit suicide..." Its enough to make you weep - - she was one of the more lucid ones.
Go away... Since he popped by and said hello, I'll reccomend Ray Banks' website-cum-blog, The Saturday Boy. He's a bloody brilliant writer, by the way whose book The Big Blind should be available from all book shops and if it isn't, go to the publishers and order one. He doesn't like pimping himself, so he says, so we'll do it here for him.
Anyway, till nest time, mes amis (whoever you are and however you got here)
Au Revoir
Ah, fuck... People are finding their way here... people who know who I am (unless its just a coincidence and they don't realise...)... I almost thought I could get away with it too... Just post and slink away... And I would have if it hadn't been for those meddling kids...
Loud Neighbours... I currently have the Quireboys jacked up to top volume. I don't care if it pisses off my downstairs neighbour (A professional hypnotist - look into my eyes, not around my eyes...) because I have to do something to block out the squeals from above... earlier, crooner boy was singing some of Frankie's greatest hits... and now, well, the girlfriend's come home... how do I know? She's Leslie fucking Garret or something. When she hits orgasm, all my wine glasses shatter. "Oh, that's it, that's the stuff, Stuff it in my Traviata" and so forth... They must know we can hear them...
Any More Morons? Its an old one, this, but since other people aside from Becs must be popping through I figure you might like this thicko customer who came in (she was around eighteen and wore sixteen inches of makeup and earrings that would have made Pat from Eastenders proud) and came up to the desk, leaning over conspiratorially. "Have ye got this, ken, like, this book, like," she says. I figure its best to wait at this point, see if she has one in mind. "Aye, ken, so its like about these fuckin' virginities, like, and they commit suicide..." Its enough to make you weep - - she was one of the more lucid ones.
Go away... Since he popped by and said hello, I'll reccomend Ray Banks' website-cum-blog, The Saturday Boy. He's a bloody brilliant writer, by the way whose book The Big Blind should be available from all book shops and if it isn't, go to the publishers and order one. He doesn't like pimping himself, so he says, so we'll do it here for him.
Anyway, till nest time, mes amis (whoever you are and however you got here)
Au Revoir
"Your Love is Like..."
Mes Amis
...A Rollercoaster, baby, baby! Rollercoaster... of lo-o-ove! Rollercoaster, a-wooh, wooh, wooh! How irritatingly catchy is that song? I'd almost forgotten it after having not watched Beavis and Butthead do America for a few years now (The Chilis, as I remember, did a cover for the movie) and now I sit down to finally get around to Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas (I gave in; I needed new entertainment) and that song is on the soundtrack - it comes on every damn time I get in the car and drive. But hell, its cool. But damn if I don't keep hearing it in my head...
Moron of the week... A little old lady with poor hygiene came into my work yesterday. She grabbed my arm so she could pull me down to her level (the better to smell the stinky alcohol on her breath) and said, "Aye, ken, sonny, I wis in here yesterday, aye? And I asked the other laddie, the tall one, likes, handsome lad, if ye had any birthday cards." I'm about to tell her we don't, when she continues, "He said ye didnae have any left and ye werenae getting any. So, like, I wis wondering, dae ye hae any the day?" In another world I twisted off her head and drop kicked it out of the shop before hanging her body from the ceiling as a warning to any other idiots who don't think before they speak.
Anyway, till next time, mes amis
Au-revoir
...A Rollercoaster, baby, baby! Rollercoaster... of lo-o-ove! Rollercoaster, a-wooh, wooh, wooh! How irritatingly catchy is that song? I'd almost forgotten it after having not watched Beavis and Butthead do America for a few years now (The Chilis, as I remember, did a cover for the movie) and now I sit down to finally get around to Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas (I gave in; I needed new entertainment) and that song is on the soundtrack - it comes on every damn time I get in the car and drive. But hell, its cool. But damn if I don't keep hearing it in my head...
Moron of the week... A little old lady with poor hygiene came into my work yesterday. She grabbed my arm so she could pull me down to her level (the better to smell the stinky alcohol on her breath) and said, "Aye, ken, sonny, I wis in here yesterday, aye? And I asked the other laddie, the tall one, likes, handsome lad, if ye had any birthday cards." I'm about to tell her we don't, when she continues, "He said ye didnae have any left and ye werenae getting any. So, like, I wis wondering, dae ye hae any the day?" In another world I twisted off her head and drop kicked it out of the shop before hanging her body from the ceiling as a warning to any other idiots who don't think before they speak.
Anyway, till next time, mes amis
Au-revoir
Tuesday, March 1
Actually
I didn't know about the nutter in FMJ being in L&A:CI. I was, for the first time ever, clueless, but only cause (shock, horror) I never watched FMJ the whole way through. I don't know why, I just haven't.
I did watch CI the other night and found him very, very twitchy. But it was far better than SVU and for that you have to give it credit.
All these initials are giving me a headache...
I did watch CI the other night and found him very, very twitchy. But it was far better than SVU and for that you have to give it credit.
All these initials are giving me a headache...
and one ;ast thing...
Russ, the guy from criminal intent played the nutter in Full metal jacket. Y'know the guy I said I was shure I recognised from somewhere etc etc.
Now you'll tell me you knew in that was you go 'yeaaahhhhhh' like, the planet knows except me.
Now you'll tell me you knew in that was you go 'yeaaahhhhhh' like, the planet knows except me.
jeez
It was a quiet day yesterday on the bus home so I decided to get off at the same bus stop as a girl I went to school with. Y'know the whole 'old time sake' thang. So I got off and discovered two things.
1. I was right to avoid her all these years as she is still as irritating as she was then. I mean goddam annoying. Reaally reeeeaallly annoying. Her voice is like a jet of alcohol on a open wound
2. She's worryingly cool about things- the conversation went like this:
Her: "hows your mum?"
Me: "Ah you know, we get by without serious injury generally (small depreciating laugh) How's
yours?"
Her: "Oh she's dying of a rare disease, her organs are atrophying while she's still alive"
Me: (stunned silence for a second) "Oh, I'm really sorry"
Her: "Well these things happen. Did I tell you I have a dog?!"
She then proceeds to detail the poor beast. Now I'm not saying that I wanted a blow by blow account of the whole business but she literally was like "never mind!"
Her mum is the same age as my mum so it was a bit of a reality check.
1. I was right to avoid her all these years as she is still as irritating as she was then. I mean goddam annoying. Reaally reeeeaallly annoying. Her voice is like a jet of alcohol on a open wound
2. She's worryingly cool about things- the conversation went like this:
Her: "hows your mum?"
Me: "Ah you know, we get by without serious injury generally (small depreciating laugh) How's
yours?"
Her: "Oh she's dying of a rare disease, her organs are atrophying while she's still alive"
Me: (stunned silence for a second) "Oh, I'm really sorry"
Her: "Well these things happen. Did I tell you I have a dog?!"
She then proceeds to detail the poor beast. Now I'm not saying that I wanted a blow by blow account of the whole business but she literally was like "never mind!"
Her mum is the same age as my mum so it was a bit of a reality check.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)