Merlin favourite Bradley James reveals unlikely 'bromance' with on-screen rival
These are the salad days, while the lads are still endearingly candid, before they get sent forth with minders or learn the game and just stick to the PR script. Sigh. Nevertheless, it gave me a chuckle despite all the backtracking that occurs within said interview. Bless.
Meanwhile, I loathe work. I could have chewed through several bricks all the way home, so furious was I, but several cups of tea and a Peter Breck episode of Maverick, not playing Doc, but beggars can't be choosers and it was still fun, he's fun and he always gets the better of poor Jack, who even suffered to have his scenes stolen by the most adorable dog.
Speaking of dogs, I nearly died laughing watching last night's episode of Top Gear, the one where they try to get the larger dogs into the small cars. Oh dear, I nearly choked while cackling myself insensible.
Anyway, there have been a few episodes on telly lately with dreadful cod Irish accents, including Maverick the other day, the one with the comedy Fenians and their comedy plot to blow up Canada (not kidding about it all being done as low farce, the past really is another country) and somehow, in sheer silliness, we ended up talking in our worst cod Irish accents all night (as in "Will it be a cup of tea your're wanting" and worse and I'm sorry but one has to let off steam somehow and they started it, with their bad Oirish accents all over the airwaves, to be sure, to be sure). Smirk.
Still, as far as stereotypes go, this clanswoman was taking umbridge at having being called tetchy. Tetchy?! You'll know when I'm tetchy, when I shove yer head through a plate glass window (to borrow from an old half remembered sketch on the temper of Scotsmen). Harumph.
Anyway, lots of being silly (I'm rather enjoying this refusing to do any unpaid overtime lark I'm on now, though I'll probably pay for it later, I just can't bear to be there a moment past the clock striking eight hours). Also lots of playing "hey, it's that guy" while watching ancient tv repeats, though it probably wouldn't mean much to you, though we note how scary it is we can still recognise second henchman from the left in some show we watched once as kids, yet still manage to burn the toast. Oh, brain. I feel our best days are well behind us.
In happier news, True Blood is back on telly. Precious little of you-know-who and rather too much of Sookie driving everyone to distraction (Most annoying character on telvision in 2009? Discuss) but one makes do. Then I watched the Christmas Invasion on UKTV because I couldn't get to sleep (hello, you bastard possums) and Mr Tennant was on tap so why not, eh?
Not much of DT, but beggars, etc and wtf were the possums up to in the roof? It sounded like they were dragging a body over the beams. They probably were, I wouldn't put it past them. also, to the cat wot is using my newly planted front garden as kitty litter, your arse is mine when I catch you, you bugger. Those plants cost $7.99 each, you little f**ktard. And also, breaking the last of my fave (and pricey) pots? Not winning you any friends, trust me. Grumble. Still, I suppose if those as-good-as feral cats keep eating little fluffy protected by law baby possums (shame, cat owners, shame) I might get some sleep, if not for all the cats trashing the garden loudly at night. Sigh.
Still, I'm not entirely pure as the driven snow, as I gave a corella his first taste of human food the other day. Well, he wanted to try these things the cockatoos seemed to enjoy so much and the little fella sidled up all cute and curious and so I let him have a piece of one. Tsk. Still, I never got the cockatoos onto biscuits, they had obviously been tamed elsewhere and when that supply ran out, started begging at my back door. I couldn't work out what they wanted and ya shoulda seen the reaction when I held up a biscuit. Oh yeah, they knew what a biscuit was, alright. I've been their supplier ever since.
Friday: Sorry, been a sea hunt of a week. Didn't even get to watch Demons properly, deeply regretting missing out on a gallery exhibition (I was still ill last week and missed my slot), feeling sort of fed up and in dire need of a day out. No such luck as I have many an onerous chore lined up for the weekend. Sigh. Work is beyond my endurance, and it's made so much worse when everyone just calls me incompetent (whereas if I show what I'm up against to others, they know I'm doing what I can with what I have). It's all very distressing. Saw a recent episode of Law & Order UK that was also distressing, but fell asleep last night waiting for Burn Notice. I was tired. My fave frock shop has closed so there will be no retail therapy. At least my box set of Blood Ties arrived (I do have some episodes kindly sent by friends, but it's a somewhat spotty collection and I feel a deep and abiding wallow coming on, and for that only a box set will do, as you well know). It's a lovely spring day out there but my glimpses from the bus are probably going to be it today. Sigh.
Monday: Okay, yes, am slackness in posting. Anyways, decided to do a little retail therapy afterall. I found James May's shirt, the one with the blue flowers on it, in the big girls blouse section of Myer. should I buy?
Then I found a black Xmas tree and bought some baubles that looked charmingly 60s. Which my boss then sat on. Yep. I had ém carefully in my carry bag on my desk and my boss decides to be all that guy from The Office and faux chummy (the new website got past upper management layer 1) and plops down on my desk without bothering to check and...sigh. I tell ya, when the boss sits on the ornaments meant to replace the ones the rats ate...may I feel put upon now?
Anyway then it was washing and weeding and falling asleep during tv so i decided to go to the Rozele markets. It were grand day out. I am now the proud owner of an ealy 20thC Royal Nikkon eared vase, that has taken up residence in the corner shelf like it has always been there and a 1930s little old lady who lived in a shoe tea pot. I call it a conversation piece. Himself calls is an embarrassed silence piece. Also picked up a few musty old tomes and a handful of Buchans, one of which appears to be the plot of FlashForward. Hmmm.
But now the parrots have arrived and i must feed them. Or else.
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