Okay, Friday. Well, I never did get back online that day, which rather put the kybosh on the testing, updating and tutorials I'd meant to do. Which meant I was stuck sitting out my hours reading trashy pirate fic afterall. Actually, some, nay, most of it wasn't half bad. Those annoying illiterate teens must have moved off en masse elsewhere. Heh.
Watched Stargate: The Light. See poor Daniel have yet another Gou'ald induced meltdown. See Jack just flop a dead Daniel on the floor and leave him there. See Jack leave a groggy Daniel to take off along the beach for a walk with Carter. Weird episode. It's gets so Jack/Daniel up to a point, then screams off in another direction. Rather frustrating, from a slashy fangirl's perspective. Surely these hetero life mates are secure enough to risk a little lifesaving CPR? Apparently not. Well, you know what they say about homophobes...
Next up I watched Run, Steffan, Run, aka Hunt for the Hidden Relic - guys, you really need to work on your titles. This was fun, full of conspiracies and rather refreshing and sans the hand wringing that an American version would have. Steffan is incredibly daft (after stealing photocopies from the lab he returns to his hotel room for a bath, but this does necessitate him racing through the streets in his undies) but he is a blond, after all. So damn blond he's the Aryan poster boy and one finds oneself very wickedly wondering what he'd look like in shiny boots. Heh. I really enjoyed this. Hell, anything with EvilCatholics in it is bound to amuse me :D
Saturday: the fortnightly expedition to the naice mall with the naice people. Popped into BigW for a new winter shirt and a rummage through the dvd bargain bin, or bargain shelves as they are now.
I tell you, I have a knack, nay, an art, for making the most simple of tasks entirely fraught with danger, screams and humiliation. Yes, really. For as I was hunting through the racks I came across a bloody great huntsman spider, well, okay, it was only a tiddler, about 5-6cm across, but you know, startling enough. So I figured I should tell the staff in case said spider decided to race up the arm of some unsuspecting customer. This is how all the sales girls came to be standing around, screaming, giggling and pointing at the spider. A poor young pimply lad was fetched and sent to vanquish the beast, but, sniffing at my advice to fetch a container from the kitchenwares dept and slam it down on the offending creature, he just flicked at it and the spider scuttled deeper into the shelving apparatus and wouldn't come out again, naturally. So it's probably still there.
So, with me now poking at the cheap dvds somewhat warily, AP asks, after an impatient wait, what the hell I am looking for. Scream, says I (as it's Skeet Appreciation Week and the dvds here are cheaper than a rental fee). "Here," says AP, neatling pulling Scream from the pile instantly, thus humilating me as I'd been pawing through the other shelf for a good ten minutes. Hmph.
Picked up Starsky and Hutch as well, which was a good move because a) BigW has it cheaper than anywhere else and b) my friend cancelled our plans to see the S&H film (grumble, grizzle, mope), so at least I still got some S&H in my day.
Oh, the other amusing thing was, being left to browse in a bookshop for a while, I found and bought the QAF book (just couldn't resist and none of the other books, cds or dvds on my list were there) and AP, not realising what my carefully wrapped book was, insisted I slip it between the folds of the Saturday Herald to "keep it straight". Titter. Okay, so you had to be there and high on latte sugar, but I was vaguely amused.
Lugged shopping home and did a couple of hours of killing the inbox o'spam before retiring to the study/sewing room/spare room which is rapidly becoming the dvd room - bad me.
Ended up watching Dogma, of all things. Yes, I know, last weekend was the weekend for watching Dogma, but I just wanted to see my favourite hetero life mates: Matt and Ben. And Ben does such a great evil laugh in this. I might as well make my own soundfile as it'll probably be less effort than downloading it (dialup connection meh).
It took me ten hours over the weekend to do the usual clearing of the inboxes and the uploading and downloading, which I usually manage in just a lunch hour, though I usually have to skip over all the not worksafe posts, if so labelled, which would probably reduce the number of posts I actually look at by half, I suppose. Not that it was any easier to perve at them at home. "Are you looking at Curt Wild pictures?" screeches my brother, in mild horror. "Do I need to close the curtains?!" Probably, yes :D
So, anyways, Ben and Matty, then Starsky and Hutch. The pilot, which I'd never seen before, so that was neat. At least it explained the sauna scene, sort of. For those of you just tuning in, I giggle at what it must look like, as we watch the lads strip off together.
Sunday continued the theme as I woke up with a sudden need to watch Kelly and Scotty in Hong Kong. For some reason I was having I Spy in Hong Kong dreams (though what Obi Wan had to do with it I'll never know). Wasted a whole morning with happy 60s spy hijinks. I even listened to one of the commentaries. Robert Culp is a bitter, bitter man (hey, that's the whole point of dvd commentaries, insists Bro) but I did learn that if I Spy hadn't been axed, the first nine episodes of the never made season four would have been filmed in Australia. Wail. That would have been neat, especially as we'd been watching On The Beach on Saturday while I was online, marvelling at how much of old Melbourne was still standing, as opposed to nothing in the Matrix still being standing in Sydney. Trivia: Bill Hunter's first gig was as a standin for Fred Astaire in On The Beach.
I spent all Sunday online working, all through three Law and Orders and Legends of the Fall. I'd wanted to see this fillum, just for The Brad, but now I realise I'd dodged a bullet. It was a terribly dull film. Warhol's Empire has more pace, wailed Bro, dying of boredom. So this chick shows up married to WeedyBro and immediately starts wetting her duds over SweatyBrad (tm). I mean, yes, it's The Brad, but you made your choice, lady. So the boys all race off to war and only SweatyBrad returns - result! Her evil ploy worked, muses I. "HA! Yes! It was I! I shot the Archduke Ferdinand! Mwahaha!" cackles Bro on behalf of the EvilBradNabbingChick. Hey, what can I say, the war scenes put us straight into Blackadder mode, and what was with Tony Hopkins and the big fur coat? Subbing for Brian Eno on the side? Finally it was 5pm and we could switch over for Grosse Pointe.
Then I managed to do my caps of a very young Jude with a very unflattering pudding bowl haircut and it took all of Streets of San Francisco to upload them, damn dial up. Then I retired to watch X Files, because I miss it so. I realise this, especially when I start wishing Without a Trace would feature a bit of voodoo, cause WaT plus silly stuff would equal the X Files, pretty much. So I watched The X Files. It was the space shuttle one. Not a fave but eerily precient in a Lone Gunman kinda way. NASA would never risk the lives of it's personnel to meet deadlines, perish the thought.
Then I watched that was Shakespeare really Marlowe doco which was highly amateurish, but very amusing, educational, and dammit, convincing (and complete with subliminal "manslut" Benny - and thou shalt not read Kevin Smith at work for fear of chuckling out loud).
Then it was Oz, and finally, I get a smile between the boys. Finally. I mean so far they've barely shared a scene together. I'm still fuming over missing three seasons though. Grrr. I think I might get the dvds. It'll be cheaper than trying to download them.