weirdWorst episode ever. I'm talking the wacky races pod race ripoff that is Space Race. Yikes. I didn't even bother to watch it. I chose TV1 instead which offered up much better Stargate, like Prisoners, which has its moments, like the glasses scene.
You know, if they'd just borrowed from the Wacky Races or Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines or even Cannoball Run, it would have been a far superior effort than a weak rip off of the crap pod race from that really bad, bland film. Come on guys, if you must plagerise, then the classics, if you please.
Without a Trace (yes, two episodes this week, which means three doses of Mr Close) was mildly amusing. I'm afraid I guessed the whys and wherefores very early on so there was nothing else to do but sit back and hope for a moment between my boys (one only, alas).
The absolute tv highlight last night was The Streets of San Francisco. Oh, how I love that show. Even if I can guess the plot a mile off (sorry, DC), the cast, the fashions and the music all make it such a fun experience. Last night's episode (which was, as always, about evil baby boomers) had the extra special cachet of featuring a small park I'd actually visited as a crime scene. Been there! Whee! It was the park over looking the bridge near the art gallery that has the Thinker out the front (cf I Spy), my first Rodin from the rear study. So I was tickled.
Unhappily they also showed an ad saying Mission Impossible: coming soon. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! I want my Streets. I don't wanna live in a world without Streets. Hmmm, wonder if you can get it on dvd?
Oh yes, and thanks to TSOSF we can get from Danger Mouse to King of The Hill in six degrees (King of The Hill -> Don't Say a Word -> Darling Buds of May -> Danger Mouse)
It was raining as I set out this morning, after thundering all night, and everyone is slipping, skidding and skittering, unused to this wet stuff that fell from the sky. I've discovered that these sandshoes/sneakers I've had for months are not, in fact, non slip as advertised and I skidded right up to the back of the bus as he took off at 10G.
They always do that on the top of the hill as I'm such an ungainly creature and it must be funny to see me ping up the back of the bus like a pinball, getting all covered in bruises. I'm one of those poor monkeys who find walking upright a challenge and a chore. I was even sent to ballet for a couple of years as a child to cure me of my clumsiness, but no such luck. Suffice to say I don't so much walk as bounce off objects.
Okay. I will spare you the gruesome details and merely say I've been tapped on the shoulder and told it would be best if I planned a weekend of quiet reflection and study. Alas, I've weeks of major inside and outside maintenance as well as subsistence crap backed up. Oh well. I feel it's a personal failing that I don't earn enough to hire help. I also feel it's a personal failing that I don't know anyone rich enough to buy me a car or diamonds for Xmas, as per the tv ads day and night. I'll be lucky if I get a box of chocolates. As I said, a deep personal failing. But I don't really care. As I said, you have a couple of hours of being that ick and things don't matter. Meanwhile more people are interested in my Rodin study than my con pics. Fair enough. So am I, to tell the truth. It's a funny old world.
