But at least I know why Mr Coltrane was popping up in pie shops all over the local presses in the UK a while back. He was doing his own Long Way Round: Coming Soon...Robbie Coltrane's B-Road Britain. Well, that's one of life's little mysteries solved, because I was thinking that a man of his age and girth should probably not be touring the nation's chip shops just for the hell of it.
Oh, look at me, I drop a dress size, just one, and I'm getting snitty.
But never fear, I'm still a fat, dumpy unloved little mutant/morlock. I realised this when I went to see The KCs and I had to switch from a Westie bus to a bus travelling to the rarer reaches of the exclusive Eastern suburbs. Talk about yer Morlocks and Eloi, they were a totally different race, all tall, thin and blonde. I bet they can't even breed with a Westie these days, and would no doubt sooner die if the option was offered.
I felt ever so dumpy and troll like and I began to deeply understand that entrenched bitterness the poor old Daleks have towards the Thals (another race of blonde, perfect, but essentially dumb, beings). I, too, often find my thoughts drifting casually to genocide when confronted with images of Paris Hilton and the like.
I was also feeling very daleky and embittered yesterday, and again found myself casually wishing for a bit of the old genocide at the bus stop. You see I'd brought in my cane because I was tired of hopping for Australia, and I had to slog across town on another summons anyway, and I thought maybe it'd stop people pushing and shoving me and knocking me about, because it bloody hurts. Not a bit of it. The bus driver still deliberately took off with a lurch and then went right past my stop, again, nobody stopped pushing me out of the way, some kid kicked my cane away and as I was hobbling up to the bus stop somebody shoved me from behind, a punch right between the shoulder blades, so suddenly and violently I went down, and it bloody hurt, and nobody helped me. All because I'm fat, old, ugy and brunette (and now bruised). Hence the warm happy genocide thoughts.
Funnily enough it was the daleks just want to be loved episode on Doctor Who #1, ie the one with Eccles in the bunker (with Mrs Toby Stephens sneering a lot in the background). I've seen it so often now there was some MSTKing of the text, like when the dalek downloaded the net: "Porn! Porn! Porn! Must...give..my...bank details...to...a...Nigerian.." etc. Giggled at the hair drier crack, marvelled at Eccles OTT shouty bits, and spotted the quote re the Time War: "I win, how about that?" which sounded just a mite familiar.
But yeah, since when were daleks so damn needy and touchy feely? They should be bitter and twisted on behalf of all non-blondes.
After that (because we had the minestrone the peanut gallery laboured away at on Sunday, and guilted me about while I was at the KCs via phone, I might add) I watched Bones because, well, DB is the hot. He was looking particularly dishy in this episode, and, ironically, it stayed on theme, with Brennan loudly deploring plastic surgery and warped perceptions of beauty and identity at every opportunity. She's very pretty but must have been angsting as a non blonde, too.
Ah, the unbearable sadness of being a non blonde.
Sulk, mope, or I could put the boot in, like Julie Brown:
I haven't decided yet.
Ah, the Kaisers. They rocked. That's pretty much it, really. They just rocked. I was delighted and relieved that they had old fogey seats up the back, and packed with fogeys they were too (the couple next to me reminiscing when the Hordern was the only venue in town). Actually, it's funny, because I think most of The Kids spent their concert dollar on the Monkeys, so that left the KC audience skewing really old and really young. In other words, had I been feeling up to it, I could have totally cruised the divorced dad scene - smirk.
But yes, the Kaisers, just love, love, love. They are my favourite band. Not 'at the moment', but My Favourite Band. It seems odd to come to one's fave band at this late in life, but there you go. I think it's because they combine all the best bits of all my other favourite bands with unmitigated glee. What can I say, they tick just about all of my boxes. And I love Ricky. I even got to fangirl him up and personal as he ran round the back stalls (the poor wee bastard). I was so happy my ankle didn't hurt lots for two whole days. That's euphoria. I just love them. I love nearly all their songs: every time I kept thinking oh this is my fave, no, this is my fave, wait a minute, this is my fave. Hardly a deadly dull spot wth the KCs.
I know they're not fashionable or glamourous, but I wuvs them so. They make me happy. Which makes them special and good.
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