It was also the last of The Impressionists, and sadly focusing more on that little scrote Cézanne, but there was some Richard to behold and he was lovely. Too lovely. I must have dozed off listening to his voice because when I work up Manet had carked it. Ah well.
So what I need to cure the normally chronic insom is a tape of Richard reading the phone book. Or just load one of those twee Robin Hood audio books onto an mp3 player, if I had a not dead mp3 player (I've killed half a dozen now, I'm hell on mp3 players).
What can I say? Long day, late night, not even the wonder that is Richard could keep me conscious. And I still want a HBO version of The Impressionists. You know, Baz it up a bit. Because the lives of artists sans all the sex, drugs and rock and roll etc is a tad, well, dull (and ridiculous). I should not have stuck with it if not for Richard's lovliness.
It rather reminded me of that awful history teacher I had at school who was one of those floral print wearing namby pambies who didn't want to know about any of the sex or violence or anything of interest in Roman history. I mean, wtf? I'd like to tie her down, Clockwork Orange style, and make her watch Rome until her brain melted. Still, my loathing of her sent me scurrying to the libray in search of choice quotes from primary sources (Suetonius, my old friend) so it's an ill wind, etc, etc. But I'm sure that programme would have been her preferred version of those extraordinarily polite chaps they called the Impressionists. More sanitised than a tampon ad, mutter mutter.
But I'd still like her to meet Pullo and Vorenus in a dark alley one night. Heh, all these years and I still hate her and any one like her. Prudes. Can't live with 'em, can't kill 'em.
Speaking of folks on my proscribed list:
Dear Britain, you suck. You and your "online" "ticketing" "systems" can just go and ram your stupid postcodes, firewalls and 502 errors sideways. FOAD, you bastards.
Well, that didn't make me feel better and it hasn't solved any of my problems but it had to be said. I am not having a good day and there has been no opportunity for mischief.
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Darn kangaroos thrive if there ain't no wolves