...and not just any kind of hair. A pubic hair was waiting for me when I got back to work after my holiday; neatly placed on my keyboard. I choose not to think about how it got there.

I have to say, the thought of Jason Donovan in drag amuses me, and for some reason it makes perfect sense.

Well, the last Proms concert was terrific, although I have to admit I could hardly choose between all the different parks, because there was a lot of salivating going on when I checked the different line-ups. I guess this digital telly revolution is giving me too much choice after all (even though there never seems to be anything on when you want to just spend the day on the sofa, glaring at the box) (that's the telly, not...something else) (perv!)

Not too sure about the Tess of the d'Urbevilles thingie; the only reason why I lasted beyond the first 20 minutes, was Ian Puleston-Davies (for any Norwegians out there, that's pronounced poll-stn. Perv!) After that, I pulled out my trusty RadioTimes and read up on the story, which proved to seem more interesting as it went along. No, I am not familiar with Hardy to begin with.

Yesterday, after work, I pulled out all my CDs and started sorting them into "have been ripped to mp3" and "have not yet been ripped" (AKA "may have been ripped earlier, but then deleted again from the hard drive for reasons unknown, or actually probably because I never listened to them anyway and needed the space"). And then, guess what? Well, I started ripping them, dumb-ass! Boy, there were a few CDs there that I had all but forgotten. Some of them I sort of wish I had forgotten, but no chance there. Still, to make my collection as complete as possible, plus taken into account the fact that the CDs aren't getting any younger and sturdier and I certainly won't buy any of them ever again, I need to rip them all (ok, with a few exceptions due to their being of too embarrassing a nature--the fact that I have them in the first place). There were quite a few I was surprised to see I hadn't already ripped, too. Like all of my Monty Python records. I mean, OMGWTF??? I love those guys! They're the reason for my anglophilia, nerdiness, sense of humour and accent! (OK, I can't blame them for my Norwegian accent; I mean the accent I try to emulate when speaking English.) They are, in effect, the real reason for my moving to the UK! It all started with poor, old Michael Palin (which means I am highly annoyed these days when the name Palin is mentioned everywhere and it always turns out to be someone else than him...but hopefully this will only last for a couple more months (fingers crossed for a sensible election this time--we've waited slack-jawed for too long now; we're developing nervous tics!))

Where was I? On my way down Politics Lane again? Sheesh...well, I'm not done yet. Still, concentrate on the CDs for now. Let's see...oh yeah, I found an old album by a Norwegian band calling themselves Innocent Look; it's even been signed by the guys. Oooh. The problem is that they're so unknown they don't even have a profile on Last.fm. I mean, I have a profile on Last.fm, and they don't. How sad is that? I also found quite a few compilation albums I had forgotten all about, but I used to listen to them a lot there for a while. They bring back memories. Good and bad, embarrassing and sad, fun and...something else rhyming with -ad, perhaps.

Anyway, back to watching The Daily Show. How tragic is the situation when you have to turn to Jon Stewart to get the latest news from the US?

Labels: comedy, current affairs, michael palin, Monty Python, music, musicals, personal, theatre, TV