Forgot one! Friday -- bacon roll; Saturday -- was a full breakfast; Sunday -- kedgeree; Monday -- a banana
More amusing than watching panel shows with my Canadian flatmate and her lovely friend, is watching them, watching panel shows: apparently we get away with much more over here… there are actual tears tonight. Tears of mirth.
I think I might take a recording of the luscious-haired Canadian two laughing at 8 out of 10 Cats as one of my Desert Island Disks (if ever I am required!).
I can't believe I've only just cottoned on the BBC's Sherlock -- it's good gripping stuff. One of the benefits of coming to these things late though is that I still haven't seen the first series. And I suppose there's the new Guy Ritchie one too; but I thought the last one was a little too pleased with itself. Still, needs must.
When I'm old and dribbling and don't know who I am anymore, I'll still remember this flaming theme tune. Forget Barney the Dinosaur, this is a far more effective instrument of torture.
To old and dribbling and not knowing who I am, I ought also to add arthritis,;which my father helpfully suggested I may already be suffering from when I complained about my left index finger hurting in the cold, and always taking longer to warm up (it's the one I slammed in a door).
Oh my goodness, have just seen this in the sidebar of The Gruaniad: Spider Man is no more. Dear, oh dear, oh dear. Still, I suppose there's still Bananaman to keep us safe. I am delighted to have discovered that Graeme Green and Tim Brooke-Taylor were the voices in the television series. (If you're interested in such things, I can also recommend a gander at Captain Planet's wikipedia page: you'll be amazed at some of the people who voiced characters in that...). And, for those of nostalgic bent, here's some Bananaman for you:
A banana: the inevitable result of hitting snooze too many times.
This has been bothering me for some time... What on earth is the Twinings tea advert about? It starts out as some bizarre pastiche of a Winslow Homer painting, with some bedraggled woman taking out a row-boat in really not the right weather at all. After some agnsty rowing, she loses her oars, is rescued by some weird watery bird things that turn into massive bloody fish and finally washes up on a beach where she embraces a slightly less bedraggled version of herself... I have no idea what it has to do with tea. If anything it seems like an advert for PMT (though where's the appeal in that). Or some form of personality disorder.
Every time I take a slurp from my water bottle at work, I am reminded of this glorious hydration one-upmanship sketch. Bring back Smack the Pony, that's what I say. (And also, Down With Work -- but that's a subject for another day.)
Still no rolling pin, but today I made a courgette quiche/tarty thing with Parmesan pastry -- which as you can see, I ate for breakfast/lunch. I'm getting good use out of that old Cote du Rhone bottle.
Other than that I have mostly consumed an eye-popping quantity of cinnamon oaties. And watched the creatures on Sesame Street spoofing glee.
One of the favourite things I learned in the course of my old job (pre Satan -- oh how I miss it!) is that the BBC declined to buy the rights to Sesame Street in 1971 because of its 'authoritarian aims'.
