Meanwhile, I've discovered where I've been going wrong with LOM. Waiting until I was in a good mood to watch it was all wrong. Watching it when I was quite happy to show several people the business end of a hammer (to recap, doing the work of four people and trying to get everything done by next Monday) was the way to do it. So on Monday night I settled down to watch episodes 5-7 before I get any more spoilt than I already have been. And I really, really enjoyed it.
Well, okay, I'm not sure #5, as an exercise in how to have an episode sans Sam really worked for me, but I'll put a tick in the pro column for the sweaty writhing Sam. And the old hippies spiked his drink thing? Again? Oh dear.
#6 was het city...yawn, with that chick from Ultimate Force in it. It had a very cute Sam/Gene moment at the end, and a few in between, so that earns it a few ticks in its favour, but I'm not entirely sure they actually solved the original murder case, but maybe I just wasn't paying attention and too busy squeeing over my rare ration of Sam/Gene.
#7. At bloody fucking last. Sam and Gene. Oh yes, lets waste six entire precious episodes before we have an episode that's all Sam and Gene. And it was bloody marvellous. A thing of beauty, as some bastard I used to know used to say. Yes, it was very silly, but for once the whole Hyde thing slotted in, rather than was tacked on at the beginning or end, and well, Sam and Gene. I wouldn't know where to start, but I think my favourite moment right now was the long suffering look Sam gives Gene over breakfast, breakfast at Chez Tyler no less, that was pure, undiluted, 100% Peter Pascoe. It just cracked me up so bad. Those boys so need to form a support group - grin.
Oh yeah, they ruined it all with a bit of tacked on het at the end, but all in all, loved just about every mnute of it, bar the painfully forced and cringingly uncomfortable Sam/Annie. I wouldn't mind so much if they sold S/A to me, but so far, well, no. I think I even believe Robin/Marian more, and you know I list that way down in my 'feel the passion' alleged het couples. (Now Robin and Guy, whoo, baby, that's a whole 'nother thing).
But back to LOM. Deeply bemused that also that it was a case of snap! over the heroin and murder charge plots. Heh.
Okay, also watched Murphy's Law, Spooks, Children of Dune (I had a sudden need for a McAvoy fix), Top Gear, The Abduction Club (a silly 18th flick with Matthew Rhys) and, of course, Robin Hood. A friend described it as good clean fun - I nearly died, thinking of the Sheriff's er, um, alternative lifestyle choices (I'm pretty sure I'm not watching it wrong).
Oh yes, it was a shitty shit of a day, despite my best efforts, yet the wee Irish lad's blue eyes wored their magic, and Richard smouldered and Sam pouted and it was squee all round, really. It is such a silly show but now that I know it ain't going anywhere, it's easier and more fun just to sit back and enjoy the scenery. Ah, a pretty boy buffet. My kinda telly.
Well, plots would be nice, and less of the hideous orange outfits, etc, the shoe-horned in attempts at clever modernism and the hammy overacting. The trouble is, whenever it starts to get slightly dark and angsty it gets really good, then somebody snaps it back into Carry On farce and it's crap again. Somebody there really needs to go and really watch Xena and take notes, because, and I can't believe I'm saying this, they managed to get the balance right more often than not, and that balance is what's missing from Robin Hood. That's why it's so annoying - with a few tweaks it could be so much better.
But for now, I'll just watch the pretty pretty. (Or not, as the case may be for a few weeks, darn tv programmers).
Meanwhile RL continues to suck Venetian canal water. Just had a 'drink the koolaid' bbq wake for my ex-organisation. We just won an award, a gold award, and they toss us to the wolves. This is where hard work gets me. Grumble. Gripe. Also doing double the workload and trying to organise and wrap up everything here and at home by Friday week. I'm not gonna make it. It was gonna be tight, them the universe dropped three more mountains of merde on top of me. Not waving, drowning.
So apologies to all those favours I promised but probably won't get round to by next week. I tried, but it's just hell here. I've not slept or eaten properly in weeks.
Fic? You must be joking.
Meanwhile, it was Richard's last Ultimate Force last night. My, he was purty, right up to the end. Never mind, I've still got North and South and Robin Hood on the ABC. Pretty neat, it's been RA non stop since Xmas. This, at least has kept me going. Thanks, mate.
And finally there's this little pice from today's Column 8:
We thought we could be picky, but we've got nothing on Rod Whitworth, hereby granted a C8 PhD in hair-splitting for this lot: "On Sunday I watched Robin Hood on the ABC. When Robin rode into Nottingham he remarked that being a Wednesday it should be market day, but it was not its usual bustling scene. Robin was forced, the next morning, to read the writ of execution of four men. The date was stated as 'the 26th day of April, 1192'. April 26, 1192 was a Sunday, taking into account the 11 missing days in September 1752 when the English changed from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar. Sunday hangings would have been unthinkable - Friar Tuck had a bit of clout in Nottingham."
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