But what really had me squealing last night (sorry Hugh, sorry Damian) was the ad for Supernatural. Winchesters! Squee! I mean double squee, because I had been fretting all the way home about the impossibility of downloading episodes in 37C heat (without Dell Boy throwing a strop), and now I don't have to. Sam! Dean! Squee!
Okay, I totally have to dips me lid to Channel Ten for screening House and Life last night. Okay, a bit sliced and diced for ads (either that or I zoned over certain plot points) but otherwise, well, the novelty of watching on tv, without any jiggery pokery, an episode of House I'd only read about last week - well, what fun.
And it was fun. I'd missed most of the last season (I do have, them, thanks, but events overtook me and it wasn't high on my list of catchups because well, not a fan of hospital dramas right now and if you think my spits about the horrid hospitals I'd experienced were hyperbole just read the Herald or the Tele) but Jeeves and Wooster put me in the mood for more Mr Laurie and I did enjoy it, especially as sans the three interns (whom I didn't miss at all, and the case made for them was hardly convincing) House had no choice but to interact with his best foils: Cuddy and Wilson. There seemed to be a lot of Green Wing type wackiness going on (which I've noticed had started to creep into the show more and more), but I didn't mind it a bit. I was thoroughly entertained. Couldn't care less about Plot A, which was pretty much relegated to Plot D anyway, it was all about House and Wilson. Hugh Laurie has always needed a straight man, and in House we have Wilson. works for me.
And then there was Damian, dear Damian. Okay, hate the accent. There was much cringing and wincing everytime he spoke, but he's so pretty and he does intense so well, and it took me four seasons to stop carrying on everytime Hugh Laurie howled his vowels, so I'll suppose I'll get used to it. I won't like it, but it'll wear me down (and at least it's not as bad as the year we had Forsythe Saga on Sundays and Band of Brothers on Monday - talk about accent whiplash).
Okay, Life is so very just another cop show with a quirky detective with or without a cool car (the car is very much a question mark at the end of the episode - grin). So very much from the cookie cutter factory that is American tv. Ditto the plot: bog standard dead kiddie in a field (it could have been Bones or CSI or L&O) and the nod to the "new": the grand arcing conspiracy theory of who set dearest Damian up and gived him all that nasty stir time (which was nicely glossed over but did set the scene that the poor bastard had endured twelve seasons of Oz and was now ever so slightly touched). Oh yeah, and I spotted Jane from Deadwood in .0003 seconds. Nice to see her get work but her character sucks.
In fact the only character who doesn't suck is Damian. Certainly he over eggs the whole "I'm on a different plane of experience" thing but it's tv and such unsubtlies are allowed under the the strained and tattered umbrella called dramatic licence (because I doubt he'd be let loose with a badge being that seriously loopy for real - see The Silence for a slighly more realistic approach, ie, he's benched), and to be honest, he most reminded me of the good Doctor at times when deeply into the 'on another planet' bits (the concerns of mere humans are beneath him) but there was also a lot of Sam Tyler there, too, with the whole 'cop on a different yet superior tangent' thing, and also Sam In Reverse, with all the "what are these mobile phones again?" guff (which is gonna get real old real soon because it's not half as amusing as making fun of folks in flares and sans google and like hell would Crews not know about mobile phones or t'internet while in prison - purlease).
So yes, there's a tiny bit of LOM there, with the whole 'cop from another planet' thing going on, but just about every cop show from the US seems to be doing that this season, sometimes literally (the US version of LOM is gonna get lost in the shuffle). Other reviews compared it to House, cause with the quirky, doncha know. Apparently, only Brits can do satisfactory quirky in US shows. Good to know.
But mostly I was just there to oggle Damian and if I must oggle Damian in an average American cop show, so be it. He was fun to watch (so intense, crazy and pretty) and I didn't mind a bit (helped along my breaking open the box of chocs I bought at The Paragon - lovely!).
Speaking of quirky detectives, been also watching, and enjoying, Angel on SciFi. It's been ages since I've seen S1 and it's almost like watching it anew. It's certainly more enjoyable without the fanwankage baggage. It was quite a slick little show, right from the get go. Other shows should have studied it more closely, instead of just ripping off what they thought were the good bits (without any of the supporting structure). Oh yeah, loving Angel right now.
And Bones. And Wire in the Blood. The reviews I'd read in the Brit press were less than glowing, so perhaps my expectations were lowered considerably, but loving it so far. Especially the witch doctor one. That was classic, like really classic. That bit with the fly at the end - loved it. Definitely getting that one on dvd, to go with all my other old ITC classics. It really was like ITC gold, only with CSI production values. Really loved it.
I also like the slight re-boot of Tony's character. Less clueless Aspergers poster boy, but more, like Crews, Mr working on another level mere humans cannot even guess at, etc. But I really loved the whole out voo dooing the voo doo. That was, well, magic.
Also been watching The Protectors, Strange Report (somehow we seem to watch the episodes with cults and satanists rather than terrorists, funny that), Gideon's Way (sadly lacking in satanists and rejuvenated nazis and men in silver space suits) and The Avengers (Himself trotted home with three boxes of Cathy Gale yesterday so there's my Sunday arvo gone, though since I've given myself carpel tunnel from excessive privet pulling, I reckon I'm due a prolongued slouch in front of the tv, anyway, doctor's orders), amongst others.
Also deeply in love with Maverick. He's such a 90s hero, all glib and sarcastic and stuff. I never realised it before, but there's a lot of Maverick DNA in Brisco, Mal Reynolds, Jack O'Neill and John Crichton (not to mention Troy Tempest - grin).
I'd love to get me some Maverick on dvd but I'm loathe to order it overseas because lately anything I finally break down and oder from Amazon is on the shelves here the next week, despite never, ever appearing in any "coming soon" list, the latest being Supernatural, re-issued, now with extras (but I had my copy when I was home sick, and it made all the difference).
Anyway, that's pretty much it. Suddenly there's telly to watch. Good grief.
Meanwhile, re the whole casual thing at work, helped along today by the fact that, as my best skirt is still waiting for a new zipper, I've had to dragoon an old favfe that had been relegated to second division. It's seen better days, but I like it. From the snotty look from one on the puckered up pinstripers though from that other poncy dept, I'm think that I'm alone in my wuv for my old fave here. Ah well.
That's the problem with Indian skirts. Lovely to wear, but they get worn out very quickly, especially on public transport where they're always being snagged or stepped on.
Also, this morning while waiting for the buss this semi zoomed past and I felt my hair go !!! and well, that's it for today then. It never settles once it's been blasted by a semi. Sigh.
Loving the wee tops I bought, though. A bit young for me (more than a bit) but I'm not in the mood for mumus right now and they feel nice, sit okay, were cheap and don't require ironing. That's all I ever ask for. I'm think of going back and buying a couple more.
Still can't believe I got to watch tv last night. First time in ages. It almost felt normal. It felt so late, too, rushing around as the sun set (in minutes) trying to water the garden in ever increasing darkness after a hot blustery day (the garden light has gone kaput). At least I couldn't see the spiders.
It felt so late when I finished, but Buffy was still on. Tea was easy, an already prepared by the master chef potato salad with honey mustard dressing. Well, I only had carrot juice for lunch, so we'll let the dressing slide. It was lovely. And I had ages to wash up and stuff, instead of doing it during the show I wanted to watch. Sweet.
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