mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,

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meanwhile, back at the ranch...

Oh, all I want to do right now is curl into bed with a hot water bottle and watch Maverick. Oh, please let it be a Jack Kelly episode (unless of course I'm still at my desk, in which case James Garner will suffice). I know, I'm dreadful, I came for James, but stayed for Jack. I think it's because, possibly, hypotheticaly, Mr Garner, as the star, seems to get all the gambling and girls stories, leaving poor Mr Kelly with all the actual hanging from cliffs, being chased by bears/injuns/zombies, etc, which makes his episodes the more interesting, to me, anyway.

And, especially as Roger Moore was an actual regular so it's gonna get confusing as I bumble through this, but it kinda comes down to whether you like Moore Bond or Craig Bond, it's kinda like that. Sorta. Do you prefer your hero smooching around cocktail parties or smooshing bad guys faces into sinks? Not that you can't like both, and they mix 'em up on occasion, but I like Bart Maverick. I just do. (Plus, he's really sensitive, kinda gay and wears a really shiny waistcoat). I'm just sayin'.

I did get to watch The Saint this weekend. One episode was okay, the other one, with actual Mexican bandits, was way cool. I really liked it. B/W Saint episodes are so cool, really, really cool.

About the weather? Can't complain. It was hot, really hot, but my marathon bucketing efforts seemed to have worked bar a few plants I missed control specimens who are all wilty. Really can't complain with the terribles fires down south and the floods and crocodiles up north. I just ran around doing all my stuff before the sun was up (in full Captain Calamity mode, including flailing through a massive spider web and off the porch steps and then cracking my head on a tree branch that's been there all my life so I shoulda known better but still I ended up picking bits of bark out of my scalp all morning). After that I stayed indoors and read magazines.

Mostly. There was the slight matter of Top Gear. Yes, it was slightly rubbish and the top papers don't even deign to review it, and Mr May wasn't there, and it was so cheesy, so much a big long car ad, and so homophobic/homoerotic (I've yet to decide which, because it was deep into protest too much territory) and I can't tell you how many jokes they made about James May's sexuality because I lost count when it went into double figures. In the first minute. But that's what he gets for staying away. So, kinda lame, kinda expensive for the lameness (flying over to see Hamlet was much, much better value), but at least I saw the lads, even if they were tiny dots below. Oh yeah, my seats were rubbish, mainly because it took an age of arm twisting to get my Top Gear beard to go with me. And therein lay the only real snag in the day. When I said we'd return home via town I meant, and I'm sure the implication was implicit, that I meant an actual stopover for tea and toilet, but no, straight onto the next bus (typical man, harumph). I was a tad unimpressed, and woe betide anyone who denies me a teabreak, I'm just sayin'. Especially on a day in the mid 40s. And hot water bottle time.

Sunday was spent living quietly. Watched Cranford, and the peanut gallery decided this called for syllabub. Which was very nice, but how I was not expansively sick I do not know, because it was way too rich for such a hot day.

Forgot to mention, last week's Top Gear featured a Ferrari Daytona, which was my favourite Matchbox car as a kid, and I think I'm still in love. Especially as it was filmed doing the full Protectors road trip to Saint-Tropez. Kinda drooled over the fancy cars they had parked in the foyer of the TG show, too. I didn't think I would, but I did.

But right now, I just wanna go home and watch Maverick.

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Tags: maverick, roger moore, the saint, top gear

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