mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,

tv tv tv...

I worked 18 hours of unpaid overtime this week, doing the same thing over and over because nobody in this Dept could find their arse with both hands, as my Dad used to say. Map1 is Map4 indeed. 18 hours of my own personal time and nothing to show for it.

Things I could have done with that 18 hours instead:

  • catch up on much needed sleep
  • clean my room
  • clean the house
  • fix up some of the millions of things that need fixing on my own web pages, or at least make a start.
  • finish off my Jack/Daniel story
  • finish off at least one of my Ezra series
  • finish off one of my backlog of stories
  • catch up on my comics
  • read last week's Sunday papers
  • watch the local vid shop's entire supply of Michael Biehn, again
  • watch the dvds I rented but never got the chance to see
  • try and catch up on 3 months worth of telly on tapes
  • finish reading that book I started two years ago now
  • organise my photos
  • find a park and sit in it
  • go to the art gallery
  • go to the movies
  • read a few magazines - then throw them out
  • make those cds I promised
  • make those tapes I promised
  • write a letter to my family
  • download those missing episodes of Roswell
  • re-watch Sharpe
  • mend my $96 skirt
  • catalogue my videos
  • download some more pictures of Michael Biehn
  • go shopping for a new chair
  • dig up the last of my garden
  • sign up for some courses, maybe something that even has nothing to do with computers
  • walk around the harbour
  • sit in my old Starbucks
  • throw out the clothes I can't fit into anymore
  • just watch telly for the heck of it

The hunting of the Snark, a creature so hideously expensive we can't show it to you on television. You know, there just isn't enough Armin Shimmerman on cable these days. If he's not in Buffy or DS9 he's popping up in Stagate, Charmed, you name it, he's there. This time he's the leader of the pixie people aka the Nox.You can tell they're wee folk because they've all stuck bits of plastic foliage in their hair, which looks almost as frizzy as mine. It's the dry air, I swear. Armin's character is also as full of it as the old blind dude from Kung Fu, always making with the fortune cookie wisdom. Here comes Apophis and his mighty army of...three guys. And here's Danny getting whacked again. At least this time it's not permanent. Nice touching of the Jack. Nice double act in their Apophis is bad speech. Nice BC scenery. Nice Robin Hood shoot of Jack with the bow and arrow. Too bad the guys never brought back any weapons to please their masters, but Danny never took back any of the sap the old codger showed him either. Who knew what that might have turned out to be.

Not quite as bad as SFX said it was, but we are into my second hour of Big Kev for the night - hey, it was a Bruce Campbell episode of Herc. Had to watch. Anyway, Andromeda, or how many shows can we cram into an hour. We spotted bits of SAAB, B5, Hitchhikers, Buck Rogers, Red Dwarf as well as Trek and could Harper be any more an Ioalus clone if he tried, the annoying little runt. Hate Becca too, still haven't forgiven her for killing Forever Knight yet. Love the Jason King outfit the dog guy is wearing, indeedy deedy. Here, let me jack up my pimp heels some more. We're waiting for them to reverse the polarity. It's coming, I can feel it. Love the throbbing weapons. Why do all the weapons on SF shows these days look like enormous dildos? qv Stargate's zat guns. Oh no, he's going to vibrate him to death. Oh no, he's changing the batteries and switching it to tantric. Later Dylan threatens Harper with the extendable didlo of doom. At least use some KY on that thing, injercts Bro as Harper backs up across the floor as Big Kev waves the offending item menancingly in the lad's face. Bro thought he detected subtext with the magog and Harper, but it seems the magog just wants to eat Harper, not eat him, nudge nudge, wink wink. Hey, they started it, running around with sex toys like that. It's all fun and games until somebody loses an eye. Dylan's been out of circulation for 300 years. The number you have dialled has been disconnected. Thank god for compound interest. Too bad about the late fees on that video though. To be continued.

Mutant X:
If the Tomorrow People was really about being gay, what does that make Mutant X, cause I'm getting a big TP vibe off this show. Maybe it's all the crap 'acting'. So far all style and no substance and wasn't tht guy on a soap. He screams soapie star. Meanwhile at the Centre, sorry, I mean The Center...Andy Warhol has turned murderous in an evil Dr Evil kinda way, apparently. Bored Now.

American Beauty:
Can you buys dvds on a hire purchase agreement because I think the late fees on this are going to surpass the price of the dvd, but I finally got to see it, after more interuptions than you could name. I liked it. Reminds me of my middle class friends. They put on such a facade and then they get upset when you don't realise how fucked up their life is and offer appropriate sympathy, when you're still stuck in envy mode over the appearance of their 'perfect' life. Whatever. I did like it. Especially the beauty in the plastic bag. I must be a beautiful freak, too. I know it, baby.

Spent the afternoon watching storms roll in and feeding my birds. They pretend to be lame, then trot away once they get fed. Yes, brother, I have the healing touch, hallelujah! They once were lame but now they walk! Silly birdies, like I'd really fall for that old act. I just reward the effort that goes into trying to trick me into feeding them. My birds are more theatrical than most actors on tv these days.

I was a bad girl and did not stay up writing the J/D story as promised. What can I say but the 57 varieties of flu I picked up last weekend were making their presence felt and it was very much a case of pulling up the covers and tossing and turning all night.

I did get Rosenbaum for breakfast again, though. Naughty Cartoon Network decided to sneak on all new episodes of JL, featuring Etrigan, who is only slightly above a Big Brother houseguest in terms of celebrity but he got off some good lines, particularly when dissing Bats. I think I love MR's Flash even more than his Lex. Even as a cartoon he's a scene stealer, everytime.

Instead of watching old tapes - yesterday it was a minor Munchathon with SVU followed by Homicide, so much better when I'm awake enough to follow the plotline - just for once I'm home for Retrorama. It's cold, I'm cold and in the mood for some bad 70s tv while I read two week's worth of papers. First up is Fantasy Island with dear Roddy McDowall popping in. How sweet. Next up, the Six Million Dollar Man vs the venus probe. Permission to titter in an entirely infantile manner everytime they say venus probe, Sir! Said probe lurches about the LA backlots like a dalek on steroids. I remember watching this one as a kid, and being much more impressed, as you do. One thing you notice watching all this 70s tv is how you rarely see anybody under 40, compared to now where you rarely see anyone over 40. Insert essay on Hollywood narcissim here. It does explain how all my tv honeys were middle aged when I was a teen, and regrettably vice versa now. Hey, isn't that the tree where Ezra and the boys tried to lynch that guy, and isn't that the creek where Cooper killed that Chig that time, and didn't the Duke boys used to chuck doughnuts over there? Gotta love LA shows, always the same rocks and trees. Heh, Steve's gonna stop the, snigger, venus probe with magnets. Jack'd be so proud. Love the last grasp of the evil machine's metal claw at the end. How very Terminator of it.

Hawaii 5-0:
Susan Dey and Marc Singer, before they were has beens. Though to the best of my knowledge Marc's only claim to fame is flashing his pubes on the big screen in Beastmaster, back in the day when it wasn't the done thing. And it's fun facts like that that keep me up til 2 am chatting with working actors in Kings Cross bars. Of course my friends would be horrified at the tales I tell, and get told, but any con guest worth his salt enjoys a good tall story and a romping bitch fest. These are the people I want to talk to all night. Oh, the stories I've heard. But I won't repeat them here. No, I'm going to save them up and polish them off for next time. That's why you'll always find me down at the bar at SF cons. The real fun never begins until after midnight.

Mission Impossible:
Lookit at all the super cool spy toys. Mmmm, chunky. And why do the surveillance photos always look like casting agency headshots. It's laughable. I expect one of the bad guys to be posing coquetishly with a beach ball. It's like they're off to round up pages 1-5 of the movie market catalogue.

Starksy and Hutch:
How can anyone sit through the opening credits and still not see the slash? It beggars belief. Less than a minute into the episode and the lads are already on the floor on a tangle of limbs. Oh good grief.

Stepped out to feed the birds, who had been sqawking outside my window for hours, and to watch the sunset. Mother, the queen of passive agressive abuse, nips out to water the garden with something revoltingly pungent, driving me back to the embrace of my tv once more. At least she didn't throw a full glass of water at the back of my head this time.

Madame Twanky, again. I was telling Lani, who is best mates with Mr Hurst, apparently, that everytime I flick onto Herc it's Madame Twanky, far more often than is statistically possible. Hey, this observation was hysterically funny at 1 am, trust me. Here's hoping my thoughts on Madame Twanky don't get back to the source. What can I say, MH seems to embrace the part with just a little too much vigour - grin.

Oh, and then there were five. Whoopsie, but as I appear to be cannabalising an unfinished YR fic, that's hardly surprising. :)




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