Just updated my film collection. 1270 films by now. A few more awaiting 'approval'.

Labels: film, lists, personal

I should apologise for leading some of you astray yesterday with my highly uninteresting dream about John Barrowman. Apparently the post turned up in so many searches the trackers could hardly keep up. So if you're here for a second, wasted time in as many days; I apologise for luring you in once more. There's still nothing to see here.

Listening to some Erik Satie again; very relaxing indeed! Just watched the Drinking with the girls documentary from BBC3 or 4 last week, and although it was fun, it was also a bit disturbing in a way, and I needed to relax. So what better way, when you don't have any alcohol? ;-)

Ooh, and Depeche Mode were on Jools yesterday. I missed/ignored it, so had to download the programme today. Jools Holland is pretty crap at interviewing, but presents us with a nice and varied array of musical guests.

New business idea: Tweeting for a living! Seems a lot of people are already doing that, actually. Or someone should have a word with their bosses...

By the by, remember Carpool with Robert Llewellyn! Lots of fun to be had. He just said he would plug the show only once a day from now on, so obviously he needs all the publicity he can get! ;-) Look out for Carpool episodes from the US in the coming months, too.

Labels: music, musicals, personal, technology, time wasting

Right. I had another two-part dream last night. First off was my CIA initiation test. I didn't know it at the time, but the CIA had sent two retired agents (as in 'retired about 20 years ago') to follow me around as I went elk and/or grouse hunting with Victoria Beckham (I never EVER thought I'd ever mention that name on my blog), from here on in simply called Posh. She wasn't too keen on going hunting (and neither should I have been, as I reckon hunting as a sport is vile), so I guess it was just as well that the Jeep I had borrowed from Chris Barrie (I watched him driving around in a military Jeep on Massive Speed before going to bed) had just about 400 different locks; it took me so long to get into the car it had gone dark by the time I was sat behind the wheel. Posh told me not to worry, as she had a magical bottle which was "simply amazing". You see, when you filled it with water, and here was the clever part, it magically became full of water. She was grinning so proudly I didn't have the heart to tell her she was being incredibly stupid and should go away and rot somewhere.

Anyway, after our rather failed hunting trip, I never really figured out whether I'd got the CIA job as a freelance agent, as I was whisked off to ITV to watch another Parky chat show as a member of the audience. Memory lapse there, clearly, as he had his last chat show some time ago, but hey ho. There I witnessed real magic, as Philip Quast was one of the interviewees, and John Barrowman another. They were reminiscing back to the eighties (don't know why, as they didn't work together until The Fix in the mid-to-late nineties), and then Parky started reminiscing about the sixties, getting a blank stare from everybody, before John leapt into PQ's lap and started singing very, VERY loudly. It was all slightly horrible and cringing to watch, and even more cringing when I woke up and realised it all came from my mind.

I am, clearly, looking forward to La Cage, though. Again. This time with added Roger Allam, currently seen in Ashes to Ashes (yesterday seen a bit too much, perhaps, in that series? I leave it up to personal taste and inclination to decide, hehe!), and I believe he is appearing in another series in a bit; don't quite remember what it was, but something fantasy- or sci-fi-themed, I seem to remember. Big project. Prolly the Beeb. Ah, who cares, something or other I'm bound to watch, at least.

I still cannot believe I missed Allam in Privates on Parade - only one of my favourite musicals. Grrr.

Labels: dreams, musicals, personal, philip quast, roger allam, theatre

After two and a half weeks of tweeting (wow, has it really been that long already?), I have happened upon quite a few different personalities. By all means not (yet) being an expert on the twitterverse, I have, however, made a few observations.

One of these is the paranoia which happens to people when they keep tweeting with, or rather to celebrities and then never get a reply. There is an increasing desperation in their tweets, thinking they're not funny enough to be noticed, failing to see that these celebs actually have thousands, if not tens of thousands of followers and simply cannot possible reply to each and every one. So they choose the funniest, and...oh, right. I guess they're right in being paranoid, then.

Labels: personal, technology

Last night I dreamt that I encountered Daniel Hill in Berkeley Square Gardens and simply had to ask for his autograph. I have always felt as if I'm his only fan, and so, apparently, does my subconscious, as he proceeded to grin very broadly when I asked him and then went on to quote a whole poem on this piece of paper before finally signing it (in a very childish handwriting, I might add). I then went to the nearby Jaguar shop to buy a car.

In part two of this dream, Michael Palin (no need for a link there, I should hope!) had become president of the UK, and made everyone stop what they were doing at 8.30 in the morning to salute his image and chant something preposterous which included the words 'hail' and 'supreme being'. I was shocked (and no, there is no way my subconscious thinks Palin is anywhere close to that characterisation). It then turned out that he had also ordered every child (up to the age of 40, apparently) to be sent to orphanages spread across each city. I was deemed too important for being imprisoned, though, as I was an excellent diver (never dived in my life) and there was a serious threat from a band of sea monsters we had to deal with. I was given the command of the national diving team (bit of narcissism shining through there, ahem...), and we went on our dangerous mission via a local pool where there were several people with their kids (strangely enough, seeing as they should all have been locked up). One of those was Bill Paxton (I was watching Frailty yesterday) with his borrowed two-year-old, who morphed into Ed Harris (probably because I think Paxton is a nice guy) and threw an absolute fit when he thought I was too slow to move out of the way as they were leaving. We finally got into the pool and started descending into the water, as I awoke. My bet is that we got rid of the monsters and saved the world.

In the spirit of the Red Dwarf guys recording commentaries on Back to Earth today, I am going to watch Back to Reality (S5E6) with commentaries now.

Labels: daniel hill, dreams, humour, michael palin, personal, red dwarf

People basically don't have anything better to do than wasting time on Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, Bebo, LinkedIn and other such sites, apparently.

Jonathan Ross tweeted a picture of his lunch. Using TweetDeck I get updates every minute, and this one was clearly sent only seconds before my program checked for any new items. I clicked on the photo. I was the 4th viewer. I reloaded. It now had 27 views. I got a call, which took about three minutes to solve. The picture now had more than 1,100 views.

And yesterday everyone seemed to be commenting only upon Britain's Got Talent. Actually, the celebs were worse than the "mere mortals", who actually seemed to get out of the house for the evening; the well-knowns were cheerfully tweeting about every single act whereas the unknowns remained fairly quiet or actually managed to tweet about other stuff. Like being drunk, listening to rubbish music and updating their news feed.

It's highly entertaining, though, and the perfect way to surf the web for new stuff! It's like having an army of webcrawlers working for you, so that you can spend your time doing other things until they come up with something worth looking at.

It may draw you in, though. I woke up during the night (due to drinking an orange smoothie right before going to bed) and simply had to tweet about my semi-nightmare (my family stealing all of my Greg Proops cassettes) from my iPhone.

Maaarvellous.

Labels: computers, personal, technology, time wasting

In the spirit of #followfriday, I set myself my own task today via Twitter. I was to write a 500-word-snippet including the random words dapper, hell-bent and Fraggle. Here is the unedited and rather miserable result I threw together during my lunch hour (and for some inexplicable reason, my mind conjured up two names of the Proops persuasion. Ho hum.):

---

As a holy man, Gregory had seen his share of misery among the populace. His congregation, for a start, contained mostly old W.I. members with a penchant for crocheting and harassing the local transvestites (of which there were three: Johnny Long Johns, Mark the Spark and Mullet from the docks). When Marjorie had left the gas on and caused half her street to go up in flames (via a big kablooey), Gregory had had to comfort the old sods who suddenly had nowhere to go and no family who remembered them—or was it the other way round? He could not stand the constant smell of wee inside the church hall and was hell-bent on getting out of that awful job of his before it was too late. Also, he suspected their babbling had rubbed off—he often found himself muttering obscenities under his breath without actually remembering wilfully to have planned it that way.

Today was just another horrid day he had to face. His toast had been soggy due to bad planning—trying out a new, supposedly efficient morning routine, he had thrown a couple of slices into the toaster before hitting the shower, completely forgetting about the little machine’s rather unfortunate habit of projectile-vomiting anything which was put into it, at quite alarming speed. When he came back from the shower, the toasts were to be found in a flower pot on the window-sill and in the cat’s litter tray. He took it as a sign from God and ate them both.

When he arrived at the rectory, however, a worse sign awaited him. Mullet from the docks was leaning against the wrought iron fence, smoking a pipe. It somehow clashed with his purple dress. He did look dapper, though, and Gregory had to focus on the beard to regain control of his senses.

“Top o’ the mornin’ to ya, reverend, I was wonderin’ if I could have a word?” Mullet’s voice boomed, bouncing off every wall around them. Gregory had never quite understood why Mullet always went for this mock-Irish, pirate-y accent when he came from Dorset, but then again there was quite a lot of things about Mullet that Gregory didn’t grasp.

He unlocked the door and motioned Mullet into the office. He was rough-looking, but had kind eyes. Two of his front teeth were missing. Gregory noted that this was a brand new feature.

“Aye, ye’ve seen me teeth, then?”
“Not really, Mullet. They seem to have gone on holiday.”

Mullet chuckled and slapped his thigh. Gregory was slightly alarmed and decided to leave the door open for now.

“I was only wond’rin’, reverend, ‘bout what ye think ‘bout Fraggles?”

Gregory put on his best holy man show—pensive pout, clasped hands, both index fingers stretched out and touching his lips. He hadn’t a clue what Mullet was on, but he certainly wanted some of it.

“I think you need to fill me in, Mullet.”
“Fraggles, those critters who live underground an’ hunt in packs. They’ve got coloured hair and big...starin’...eyes.” Mullet’s right eye was suddenly experiencing a tic overload. His hand shot up and hit the eye repeatedly. “Aye, starin’, they are. One of ‘em, don’ ask me how, got into the pub las’ night an’ was causin’ a right ruckus in there. I could barely get outta there in one piece!”

Gregory wanted to point out the missing teeth, but decided against it. At the moment, his chief concern was to get Mullet out of his office and some gin into his system.

“So, reverend, ye do those exorcisms, right?”
“I doubt that’ll be necessary.”
“Jus’ a teeny exorcism in the pub, kinda like a nice gesture, so that all of us can drink there in peace.”
“Maybe it’s a sign, Mullet—maybe God wants you to stop drinking?”
“Jeez, no need ta go all religious on me, reverend. Them Fraggles are no critters of God’s work.”
“No, I think you’re right, there, which is why you’d be better off without the drink.”
“One day they’ll come fer ya, reverend, an’ I won’t be helpin’ ye then!”
“How very Christian of you. Well, go with God, Mullet, and close the fucking door behind you, will you?”

---

Labels: greg proops, humour, personal, time wasting, writing

Just finished watching Lost in Austen again; fine series. Had a glass of something I'd like to call "Whispering Orgasm" as it sort of lacked a couple of the ingredients for a Screaming Orgasm (the drink), which made the programme even better. Could also recommend watching Red Dwarf Back to Earth slightly sloshed; you're sure to laugh then, even if you only chuckled the first time around. Or perhaps that's just me.

I'm clearly suffering from a Red Dwarf withdrawal syndrome now, so will shut up and instead go play some game or other. Finished Mass Effect yesterday (I actually sat through the whole list of credits, simply because it happens so infrequently that I finish a game - strangely enough the last two games I finished were made by the same company (BioWare) and made in the same vein as this one. I think I may be a closet sci-fi enthusiast).

By the by...I'm a fervent believer in everything Jean Michel Jarresque, but Blade Runner would not have been the same without the music of Vangelis. Hats off! Please leave your trousers on, though. Urgh.

Labels: comedy, film, gaming, red dwarf, TV

So, just to make a rather boring, 900th post.

Do guys in general want kids/a family, or do they want to stay prepubescent throughout the rest of their lives, if they were to choose? Which, of course, they're not, as women rule the world, but let's pretend for a minute.

The whole "girls grow up so much faster than boys" theory is so annoying. And who's to say we're supposed to be spreading our genes everywhere anyway (apart from nature as a whole)? I'd much rather human beings just died out, really, but then that's just me (it seems--as most people appear to be happy about the way the world is turning out)? Anyhoo, I've been watching way, WAY too much Red Dwarf lately. I was absolutely chuffed "I'm gonna eat you, little fishy" was included (strangely enough, being absolutely obsessed with Rimmer, this quote from The Cat is my favourite, or simply the easiest to remember/sing--also, there's a strange connection with one of my faves from Monty Python's The Meaning of Life: "Ooooh, fishy, fishy, fishy, FISH! / And it went wherever I did go!) Now that I've seen the whole of Back to Earth without ad breaks etc., I am in love with the piece and wish there would be more. Preferably within the next few years or so.

Excuse me while I eat the rest of my Belgian chocolate and pretend I have nowt to do in order to further my career as a writer.

Labels: chris barrie, comedy, personal, red dwarf, time wasting, TV

I am rewatching Blade Runner and comparing with Red Dwarf: Back to Earth. I can't make up my mind whether BTE is a parody of, an homage to or a blatant rip-off of BR.

And then I realise I don't care! Any which way it's well done (especially on their budget) and it doesn't have Harrison Ford in it, which is always a plus in my book. Yes, anything without that guy in it automatically gains half a star in its rating, unless it's Safe, which is just fucking awful no matter what.

Think I need to go to bed, though. Apparently there's a new dawn tomorrow. Who'd've thunk?

PS! Seems today's Massive Speed (which had just about as many 'wow, that's kewl' moments as the other Massive... programmes) could have been the first episode after all, which would explain why I didn't notice it in RadioTimes last week. Duh!

Labels: chris barrie, comedy, film, red dwarf, TV

...what I actually planned to do with my money if I ever won a big prize in the lottery. Invest it all in a high-risk venture, get even richer (naturally I was already under the influence of the Luck virus, so anything "high risk" wouldn't be to me), then fund another series of Red Dwarf (yeah, I don't care about the film; no point in destroying the concept with silly Hollywood cameos, although I do understand that this seems to be the ultimate dream for the ones involved), get none of my invested money back, but hopefully get a lot of laughs out of it. Well worth the one-pound ticket!

...then spread the word that everyone else putting in a pound that day had just brought back Red Dwarf (back...for the fourth time?) whether they wanted to or not. Hah!

By the by, re: yesterday's episode: Could the newsagent's scene be more camp? I actually had to hide my face at that point. Brilliantly funny and very embarrassing at the same time. Just the way I like my comedy.

Labels: chris barrie, comedy, film, personal, red dwarf, time wasting, TV

Yeah, whatever. Back to Earth is over and done with...although not quite. I'm recording all three episodes in a row tonight so that I can edit them and watch them in one go, until the awaited DVD/Blu-Ray release in June. I have lots of thoughts about the episodes and I must have read about 1000 thoughts that other people have; clearly Red Dwarf stirs up a whole lot of emotions in people, one way or another!

So I'm going to edit the thing tonight, which means I won't actually SEE it tonight. I realised this is the first time ever that I got to see Red Dwarf on its first screening; having suffered from the Norwegian Handicap Syndrome (NHS? Hmm...) for years and having to rely on transmissions years after the initial release, this has marred me, yet made me stronger. OK, so I'm talking out of my arse. But the Norwegian Handicap Syndrome has been a problem for someone who became an anglophile at the age of eleven. I used to buy UK mags when I could find and afford them, and kept cuttings and adverts on my bedroom walls during my teens. I had an A4-page ad for some Have I Got News for You video next to my bed for years! (Bear in mind this was pre-Internet. Please. Although I did buy that video many years later on eBay, LOL!) I noticed Armando Iannucci during the summer of 1995, when I was stuck in a hotel room in Hoogeveen, Holland, and had almost fainted when noticing they got BBC1 and BBC2 on terrestrial telly. So I was watching Friday Night Armistice there. Took another eight years or so before I got to see much more of his work, though (The Day Today, by the way; bought the DVD on a whim).

Then again, it took me no less than 19 years to get all of the Monty Python's Flying Circus episodes, which is a complete travesty for someone who used to be so hooked (and bored out of her mind) that she wrote Monty Python quotes all over her jeans when she ran out of space on her pencil-case and desk and arms.

No, I have never, ever been obsessive about anything! How very dare you! ;-)

Speaking of obsessed; I cannot believe I completely missed Five starting showing Massive Speed last week--especially since I was searching for any DVD release of that series last week. How blind is it possible to get? After all, it's important I get to see and buy everything Chris Barrie has ever appeared in before the obsession wears off and I start regretting buying all that crap, LOL! (Been there, done that, with many others, and he's not going to be the last one, I'm sure!) (To my defense, I have mostly bought only the good stuff (as in "series/films they've appeared in", not as in "drugs"))--which means in CJB's case I'm avoiding Back in Business--then again I'm a completist collector, so if I ever win a big prize in the lottery...oy vey! (Luckily for my wallet, again in CJB's case, I already owned Filthy Rich and Catflap, The Young Ones, The New Statesman and Blackadder, being a Rik Mayall fan, after all, and Simon the Sorcerer, being an avid gamer)

Well, the football is on, so I'm going to hide my head in the sand until I can run home from work and prepare for Massive Speed and The Gadget Show. Yay!

Labels: chris barrie, comedy, Norway, personal, red dwarf, TV

Geeky linguistic moment: The two kids on the bus, they're supposed to be siblings, right? Then why on Io do they speak different dialects?

Can hardly wait for tonight's episode, though. More loveliness!

Labels: chris barrie, comedy, linguistics, red dwarf, TV

Yes, that means you, Chris Barrie. A new one. Or a couple of new ones.

Listening through some songs from 1989, reminiscing about staying in Hastings that summer. I remember Soul II Soul's Back to Life was a big hit that summer, as well as seeing Prince's Batman album everywhere (and in those days vinyl albums were still the norm, so the golden Batman logo was all over the place).

Labels: cars, chris barrie, music, personal

Guess there ARE a few fans among those 5000 households...or they've picked 5000 households who just happen to have many of the same interests! Oh, what to think, what to do?

Labels: comedy, red dwarf, TV

Oh, wow. Visiting the Red Dwarf forum I just have to comment upon last night's first outing of Series VIII.5, as I like to call it.

First of all. People who claim they're fans and then go on about how surprised they were at there not being any 'canned laughter' (a mistake in itself, btw, as Red Dwarf has always had a studio audience or an audience viewing the actual episode, and canned laughter is something entirely different and highly annoying) - if they're such big fans, shouldn't they have read up on the new 'series' a little bit beforehand? We have been informed of the new format time and time again.

Secondly. The adverts came slightly abruptly. The first ad break I actually thought, if only for a split second, 'surely Mitchell and Webb aren't part of the RD crew?'

Thirdly. Yes, it should have been shown in one go...then again they are doing that on Monday, and personally I think it's great that they're spreading this thing across the whole weekend, as that means the end is further away. I'm lousy at goodbyes, you see. I'm still suffering from slight depression brought on by Stoke Me a Clipper from series 7 (which also happens to be my favourite episode, if only by a smidgen compared to whichever episode I deem to be the runner-up (the jury is still out on that one, and probably will be indefinitely, as it's very difficult to choose favourites among such great episodes)).

Fourth. I'm amazed at how little people seem to know about how TV works. Maybe I am being too harsh, and that I just happen to be rather geeky about it. People seem to think that ratings show the actual number of people watching a programme, and that if they get all their mates to watch the show, it will help. It won't. I used to work for TNS and they put these digital boxes in selected homes, give everyone in the household their own code, connect all the PVRs etc. to the system so that every bit of viewing and taping in that particular household is monitored. Not many people therefore create the basis for the viewing figures; figures that will just be extrapolated to form an approximate ratings overview. I think it's silly, really. Let's say none of the UK's selected 5000 households (yes, only 5000 households! Preposterous!) contain a Red Dwarf fan (I know, unbelievable, but possible). The ratings would then be completely off. Unfortunately, in our day and age, we're dominated by ratings (luckily not to the extent the US of A are). In my view this is paving the way for low-quality telly, but then again, seems we're heading for a dumbed-down society as a whole anyway. /rant.

Fifth. Perhaps I should comment upon the contents of the episode itself, but I won't just yet. Just have to mention that yes, I did laugh a few times, and I actually managed to snort and spit a little bit of pizza across the table at the "ferrety face" comment. I still don't know how I did that.

Sixth. Awaiting the next few episodes with glee! Also smegups-o-rama tonight (no doubt I have seen them all before, numerous times, but that's the best bit as you see the actors behind the characters...and is how I became a fan of Barrie-boy (not to be confused with 'batty boy', which is a whole different game of cricket)), and 'making of' tomorrow! Eeexcellent.

Labels: chris barrie, comedy, red dwarf, TV

32 minutes until Red Dwarf. Mr. Brown on Carpool today. And I found my easter chocolate! Life just couldn't be better.

Labels: cars, chris barrie, comedy, personal, red dwarf, TV

We got to see the Carbug yesterday! I am so psyched. Danny John-Jules, Robert Llewellyn and Wonderboy were there, too. Got to film them for a bit. Grabbed a USB stick off some pretty ladies standing there. Well, I say 'grabbed', and I say 'pretty', but...anyway... The USB stick was pretty cool. Red Dwarf stuff. I may have a new ringtone. I am mostly chuffed about the Jensen Interceptor being mentioned in the new episodes. By Wonderboy. Naturally.

And now I have a Twitter account. Silly me. Follow me here. Not quite sure why you would, though. And Twitter has got to be the least privacy-minded site out there. Apart from any government-related site, of course, since those guys seem to be leaving and showing off top secret documents all over the place. Oh my gog! So, just with a simple click you know my name (well...nearly).

Anyway, photographic evidence:


The carbug.


Wonderboy. Probably wondering why he hasn't got a restraining order on me.

Labels: chris barrie, personal, red dwarf, technology, TV

Last night, in between the rainstorms, I had this rather disturbing dream that I had just built this gigantic, three-storey art deco house which I shared with someone who was always afraid the bailiff would come a-knocking. If I could afford such a big house, why have a flatmate who couldn't pay and whom I didn't actually know? The mind boggles. Anyway. One day these two middle-aged men came knocking. When we wouldn't open the door, they broke in and I immediately called the police while staring right at them. They were rather friendly, and so I could calmly let the police know what they looked like etc., all the while making sure they understood they had definitely come to murder us, so they had to send round a car ASAP! The two guys weren't actually there to kill us, it turned out, but rather to kill themselves. One of them had a layer cake with candles and the icing read "I am 70 years from 70 and I am 46 and don't think I want to see 70". It all made sense at the time. He had, in fact, baked a suicide cake. He just couldn't go through with it, though, so he had called some friends to help him out, and they were landing as we spoke. On our roof, in fact, as they were aliens. My new house couldn't quite take the pressure, so we brought the 30+ dachshunds I owned to the second floor (as you do, when the house is collapsing around you), and then suddenly the whole thing was a Stanley Kubrick film and I was looking for a builder called Rickman. The company which had hired this builder had no less than 1500 people called Rickman, so this could take some time. Luckily I was saved by the bear. Sort of. I ran away from the building site in order to go to Denmark and visit a safari park they had installed on one of their islands. They had also installed a whole lot of binoculars you could use to view the animals. I used one of those and spotted lots of ducks and a few bears. And a Japanese cook climbing a tree in search for sushi. He was mauled by one of the bears, and it was all quite horrid. I ran away from there because the bear came after me (even though it was miles away). I eventually jumped across some big rocks and into a bus, which I knew would take me to the real Denmark, because after a few stops he shouted "hey, hey, Denmark!" and threw me off. I ended up next to an upside-down Viking ship which had been turned into a house. The people living there was called Rogersen or something similar. Clearly Norwegian. And with the Norwegians came the snow, so the bear stayed away.

At this point I think I woke up, quite exhausted after all the running, and quite relieved to find that I wasn't in Denmark after all.

I need to go now. Fingers crossed for a wonderful afternoon.

Labels: dreams, personal

Robert Llewellyn really gets around the circuit, doesn't he? Gotta love him. This is a wonderful idea; interviewing celebs while carpooling and then posting it online.

In other news; I found my copy of Simon the Sorcerer from 1993/1995; never played (by me) but voiced by Chris Barrie, so now I obviously have to play it!

Looking forward to seeing The Boat That Rocked, especially after this week's frequent interviews etc. on morning telly, but no plans as of yet. Also Monsters vs. Aliens (or is it the other way around?) looks like fun.

Labels: chris barrie, comedy, film, gaming, TV

Urrrrgh.

In other news, we are slowly working our way through a third (fourth, in some cases) viewing of Green Wing. It's still cringeworthily embarrassing, but very, very funny.

Well, the Carbug has been located, and now I'm just going a bit Mr. Flibble (i.e. becoming very cross), as they're doing something on Wednesday next, while I'm at work. Bastards. They also announced the fifteenth Dimension Jump (Red Dwarf Fan Club convention) today, taking place in Birmingham.

1. I don't want to go to Birmingham.
2. It's expensive and I keep telling myself I'm not that hooked.
3. By October I will probably have got some other focus in my life.

*fingers crossed*

I almost finished my book today (the one I was reading; you didn't think I would ever be able to finish writing one, did you?), but then they (gasp!) wanted me to actually do some work while I was in the office! The nerve! The meeting at Aintree is drawing to a close tomorrow, but not until a few races after the Grand National, so we'll have plenty to do then. I unwind with Not Always Right in between the most stupid emails. I mean, come ON, people! It's like you suddenly become complete morons when you contact customer services! Use your head! Read up on the terms and conditions before entering into anything! Jeez, you only have yourself to blame sometimes. Stupidity does not pay!

OK, rant over. I'm whisking myself off to see Genius and then Wossy (Whoopi Goldberg and Jason Isaacs tonight! Yay! Ten quid on Whoopi to talk about the stage version of Sister Act and Jason to talk about his new film, Good (Viggo Mortensen (a name I always pronounce as if he were a Norwegian) visited BBC Breakfast earlier this week, talking about the same thing)). Ta-ta!

Labels: chris barrie, comedy, jason isaacs, personal, red dwarf, TV, work

I seriously have to stop winding myself up by visiting The Red Dwarf forum several times an hour these days. These guys have some interesting theories about what is going to happen in the new Back to Earth special, and kind of ruin it for me. I would rather be surprised during the actual screening (eight days to go, eight days to go!) than having every possible outcome listed in front of me, leaving very little to the imagination.

In anticip............................................ation (see? I still keep my mind occupied with references to other films and TV programmes) of the Greatest Red Dwarf Event of the Year (the only, actually), I went out and bought no less than two silly TV guides the other day, in addition to RadioTimes which I already subscribe to, and SFX Magazine (which a co-worker thought read "SEX"--he was slightly bemused). Shame on me! But they all have different photos, you see, and since I am probably never going to look at those ever again unless I borrow someone's scanner and digitise them, it's vital that I have as many different versions as humanly possible.

Oh, anyway. Everyone keeps going on and on and on ad nauseam about their loooooooooooooooooooooooong Easter holiday these days, and I'm sitting here thinking the only good thing about Easter (although it DOES count as at least 20 good things rolled into one, to be honest) is the already quietly mentioned Red Dwarf specials on Dave, and the fact that I still haven't opened the Easter-themed bags of marzipan, chocolates and Seigmenn I got for my birthday in March. I am going to work throughout Easter (let's hope the trains are running), so everyone else can just fuck off with their holidays and all that crap. Blech.

Labels: chris barrie, comedy, personal, red dwarf, TV