Meanwhile, thanks to the misogynists who decide to pack panty shields all tightly folded up, mine decided to return to its folded position while I was futzing about with it and thus I gave myself an impromptu and unexpected Brazilian. Yeouch. I are awake now.
And speaking of mysognists and femine hygiene products, to wit, the alleged packaging thereof, which bastard decided upon the oh so flimsy packaging that causes them to unwrap and unpeel themselves while bouncing around in the bottom of my bag and, worse, affixing to my purse, say, so that when, always in a hurry, I rummage about for my purse and finally manage extract it from the depths only to find it flapping a maxi pad about like a tail. In public. A maxi pad that won't detach no matter how hard I try. Arrrgh. Pilot fish indeed. A pox on the person or persons responsible for that design flaw.
Anyways, enough of gruesome realife. These pics of Simmo were posted the other week on johnsimm and I am still going squee. Major squee. Especially the first one. Oh...squee.
Still squeeing over this LOM/DW vid. Normally anything involving Kidman would be a hard sell, and I'm not 100% sure just what message they're trying to push here, but I just love it. Even with the huge freaking Doctor Who spoilers (well, for me, anyways), I just loved it. There have been a lot of great LOM vids. Makes me want to. So many ideas, but alas neither the time, skill or software/hardware. Le sigh.
It is bucketing out there. Which makes me slightly miffed that I was up early yesterday watering the garden, but nevermind. Escaped another Bodyline incident with the cockatoos (I swear one was Jardine in a previous life) by bribing them with biscuits. That's what they wanted, biscuits with menaces (cf last week with the lemons).
Spent most of Sunday working hard, then turned indoors and more emphemeral, online chores. Everyone was posting amazing things so I was on until the wee small hours so I'm completely kerknackered. I was also posting all over the place, so there's not much left to say except I really liked the thread comparing Sam and Gene to John and D'Argo. There is a comparison to be made, with the fish out of water being treated with suspicion, then shown the ropes, and finally friendship, meanwhile Sam/John becomes seduced by the new word, and more alive to everything, including violence. And that's before you throw in Test Pattern Girl/Harvey. Just hope it doesn't end up the same way (whimper).
Oh dear. Can't do anything right. Decided to indulge in laksa as nobody I like is in today so it doesn't matter if the food dye sends me psychotic again, but I ended up drooling it all over myself and I have some sudden high powered meetings thrust upon me (because nobody else is in). Good thing I brought along my good cardy to wear over my now thoroughly laksa'd shirt, only it's the good cardy cause I never wear it because it's 100% non terrestrial fibres and as scratchy as hell. Hair shirts R us.
Anyways, and this is now very hard to write as I am bad tripping on Sudan 1, I did manage to watch the Cybermen. Not at all as scary after all the nigtmares they stirred up, they still looked impressive, though I could have done without the description "line dancers of death" as it cracked me up again. More Rose Daddy issues, vaguely amusing Scooby references, the Doc in a tux (yay), some funny, scary and tragic moments and, most horrifying of all, two Mickeys. Okay, yes, they redeemed the Daleks and K-9. Mickey was a harder sell and not quite as successful, alas.
Not a bad episode but I can see why the ratings dropped off because it was a mite predictable. Still, I'd rather have B+ Doctor Who than some other programmes anyday. The party crashing scene was good, there was a lot of "it's that guy" and I liked the Art Deco Cybermen. At least the cliffhanger wasn't resolved by deus ex screwdriver this time round. Props to the gang though for turning blue from cold in the name of art. Your efforts are appreciated.
Oh, I liked the Doc giving Mickey the idiot his anvil clues to solve the problem, so quickly and easily resolved and hello Independence Day (minor moral quibbles notwithstanding), but I think Dave could turn the Doc down just a notch. The high panto histrionics were a bit wince inducing. I started to wonder if we were expected to hiss "Behind you" at appropriate moments. Please try to remember that not everyone in the audience is four years old, there's a love.
It was also Sam West weekend as he popped up in Hornblower and Waking the Dead. There was also Toby Stephens in several things but I dislike him because he's too posh, too arch and too flaring of nostrils, and, while I love Richard Coyle, he was just too Jeff in that thriller of his to be taken at all seriously.
The Saint featured Catweazle, and Richard Bowles slamming two supposed Da Vincis into the door, twice, as he walked out with them (or tried to). Uh huh. I hope the restorers are up to snuff after that. I was bemused that the delicate matter of looted artworks was brushed over by their being no surving claimants. So long as Simon arranged a nice commission for selling it back to the last country that owned it, it's all good, I suppose.
The Sweeney featured John Rhys Davies in an episode (Poppy) I'd actually owned for ages, being one of the (very) few released out here (I even had it signed by JRD). As I knew the story off by heart, I was mainly watching the background, now possible on huge telly. An opening scene in a grocers was notable for five boneheads in one scene (I'd cap it and circle the offending boneheads if I could be bothered), with one chap actually being shooed out of the shot while the cameras kept rolling. Hilarious. And that's the take they used? One take wonders on The Sweeney, then.
They must have been hard pressed to get this episode in the can as all the street scenes had the definite air of guerilla filming to them, and the highlight was poor Carter nearly being run off the road by a Watney's Special truck. Thanks to LOM I actually know what that is now. I myself was having a Sam moment as they drove past some old metal bins. Remember metal bins? Oh, and they had some hideous 70s comedy thing on the window sill back at the station that defies description and I realise now I really should have capped the episode but whatever it was, Gene must have one, we decided.
The New Avengers should be used as torture. I broke. I begged it to stop.
That was pretty much it. Didn't get around to typing up fic as I was very, very tired and kind of only going on in first gear. Friday was cold and wet and Saturday was just cold and I wasn't very enthuasitic about anything except the scanning and mainly that was just because I was letting Dell Boy pick the tunes and what a warped sense of humour he has. There were some excellent segues.
At least it decided me on buying an extra external HD rather than upgrading, because I love Dell Boy. I've had three rotten PCs before him, and he's the first PC I've ever felt comfortable with and I'm going to stick with him until it becomes untenable. For now though. I'll get a HD, and a USB card so I can burn stuff elsewhere, as the dvd burner still won't work and no one can offer me any helpful advice. Grump.
Of course, the tunes Dell Boy dug up, well, I just want to make vids even more now. It burns, it burns, but I've barely got ten minutes to type so I'm screwed.
I did manage a wee bit of typing today. I fixed that pivotal scene I couldn't get right by simpy asking what would Jack Regan do? It still needs a bit of work, but it works, at least, enough for me. It's an action scene and they're damn hard to get down on paper. At least for me. It's hard to describe what's happening without losing the momentum. But at least I have the basic choreography down. It'll be alright on the night, I hope.
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