"Can you give us any hints at what might happen to Sam and the Gene
Genie in series two of Life on Mars?"
"If I knew I would! We're only just starting the writing period now.
Suffice to say there will be lots of homo-erotic bonding in grim Manchester
pubs." - Ashley Pharoah
Well, that's put a smile on my face at last. Promises, promises, though. Way to build my expectations. Oh, and while we're on the subject of LoM, can they cast Brian Blessed in S2? Pretty please? Come on, Z Cars! Classic!
I've not been ignoring you, I was just having an acute case of Monday yesterday. Put it this way, when I staggered in this morning, there was my poor tea cup, still sitting in the kitchen, still with its little tea bag wilting inside it, unmade. I had a conga line of fuckwits to deal with, PC problems, no magazines, the work of two dozen people to get through and no sleep. In fact I ground my jaw away so badly on Monday I loosened a tooth and spat out mouthfuls of blood. I was up so late last night trying to get stuff done I've had no sleep at all and a couple of folks are getting parcels that look like they were wrapped by mad monkeys at midnight. Well, it was closer to 1 am by then and the effing tape defied its colloquial name by not being sticky at all. Arrrgh.
I also have fic ideas but no time to write, and I'll too wired right now to do anything than jot brief snatches of dialogue. Poor Sam. He's not a happy bunny. He's suffering from my bad day angst. Ah well, I don't see why anyone else should have a good time.
Damn hormones, they should be banned. I spent the weekend sobbing one minute, estatically gleeful the next, and now I'm just coming down off the mersyndols. Ouch. Mind the step.
Still, I did enjoy myself on Friday, having a day off (and boy, did I pay for it), but then, I just wallowed and drifted on a sleepy cloud, watching Human Traffic (which was far more kitchen sinky than I remember it) and then Special Branch, then having weird dreams about Jip being stuck in 1973...no, wait. Heh. I did enjoy it, though. I love watching John, and I love watching 70s British coppers. If only someone could combine the two. No, wait...grin.
Speaking of frivolous wishes granted, I could have had Simmo, I could have had a million dollars, but noooo, I wished for Z Cars. Cue 60s sitcom wish granting music. Bing! One tape of Z Cars. One book of the scripts. Found on a street stall that morning like magic. Ah well, it wasn't bad at all, although all those Lancashire accents, all that arcane slang - help, where are the SBS subtitles team when I need them most? At times it was less comprehensible than the Danish Unit One cop show on SBS on Friday nights, starring Mads from Arthur and Casino Royale. Fortunately, growing up amongst ten bob poms meant I knew what half-inching and having a shifty were, but they lost me on the turns.
Very kitchen sinky again, and behold the shockingly casual domestic violence and sexism, but also very funny, very sad in places, and a rousing game of hey isn't that (Brian Blessed, William Gaunt, Haskins from The Sweeney, Uncle Minto from BallyK, George Roper...). Well worth a look, in any case. The only modern show I could compare it to was maybe Boomtown. They just don't do cop shows around ordinary beat cops and pub brawls any more.
Oh yeah, it's also fun to play poke the holes in the idealogy, like when the Super proudly announces that getting cops off the beat and into cars is the way to go, we all groan (no, it wasn't). Lots of really dated, laugh at their 60s optimism/attitudes stuff (whereas The Sweeney is curiously less dated, storywise, 70s pessimism still applies, I suppose).
So I watched a whole tape of Z Cars, and then a whole tape of The Avengers, starting with John Thaw and catching Gordon Jackson (both in kilts, no less), before enduring a really, really bad Tara King episode, if that's not a tautology.
Then it was onto the blessed UKTV fest with The Saint, The New Avengers (a tap dancing super criminal? Oh dear...) and The Sweeney. Not a brilliant Sweeney this time around, and can I have less 70s guys wandering about in 70s cossies? Please? My eyes, my eyes.
After The Sweeney I flicked around and found Jude and Clive having net sex in Closer. Ah, dear Clive. Remember me, from Coventry, he says. Ah, yes, Clive, when you were being a gritty copper or journo in BBC dramas there was no other, but then you ran away to make bad American films with Jennifer Anniston (if that isn't another tautology), and well, mate, that was the end of that. And Jude's still a twat. Brittle and cruelly very pretty, but twat nonetheless (bit of tabloid bleed there, alas).
Still, I thoroughly enjoyed every second of it, this time around, and I wrote pages and pages and pages. It was the most productive night I've had in decades.
Sunday I worked from dawn to dusk, though I had to abandon the scanning as it grew too hot and I really wasn't at all well. Not at all (hormones? heat? hayfever? bad eggs? all of the above?). Ended up capping instead (and I loathe the way Powerdvd can't do PAL. I try to resize but my laptop is widescreen so it distorts as well and it still looks sucky on old screens). Capping always starts off fun, but ends up a chore, and when you're tired of capping naked Simm, you're tired of life, I reckon.
Or just need a good sleep, a wallow and some fic writing. Wouldn't I just.
Monday was work, work, work, and I was furious, absolutely boiling, over the lack of magazines after a hard day's slog. I'm trying to track them down through backorders and begging. Oh yes, I'm also doing my bit for the drought. Expecting a very highly anticipated mag from the UK, it is of course raining heavily, and will continue to do so, so it can sit in my waterlogged letterbox all day and slowly turn into porridge. Whimper. This is obviously what I need to do to break the drought. Doing my bit. Making the sacrifice. Sigh.
So that's it, pretty much. I didn't even get a chance to watch any Wire in The Blood, which I picked up for cheapish from the ABC shop on Thurs night. I needed a Robson fix. Didn't get one though. Maybe tonight.
I think I keep volunteering to make copies of LoM just so I can peek at it during the day as it progresses. It certainly cheers me up, though I just caught sight of Gene in his speedos again. That nearly made me choke on my tea. Ah, Gene, almost too much man for me to handle, so you are.
And finally, lookit:
He can even do a Scouse accent 'n all. Sigh.
Q&A: Ashley Pharoah
Drop The Dead Donkey S2, ep11
Life is what happens to you while your busy making other plans
Life on Mars
"Life on Mars"
Life on Mars
Life on Mars
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