Americans, please aid us here. Where the hell did McCain find his VP candidate? In Dumbville? He should probably have got someone who can make a proper speech without stumbling. OK, I'm probably being unfair.

No, wait, I'm not. This isn't a tiny position we're talking about. It's someone who will be second in charge of "The Greatest Nation in the World".

So, on that note, if you're in LA (and you're not, because why would you be reading my blog, which is usually non-related to LA, unless I mention Greg Proops?), please go to this fundraising comedy event for Senator Obama, to help us all out. I agree with Biden; I haven't actually heard how McCain will do things differently from Bush.

On a completely unrelated note: Why, oh why was Simon Shepherd just sporting a bushy 'tache on The Wright Stuff? I seriously hope it's for a part somewhere (the sound was turned down). Ooh, and good news: William Hurt joins the cast of Damages for the new series. Wahey the lads! I re-watched I Love You to Death the other day, and he is so funny in that film. But hey, even Keanu Reeves is funny in that film. Intentionally, for once.

And Heroes series three started over here a couple of days ago, on the same day as Medium, which is just not fair. Two great shows on the same day? Speaking of which, BBC Two's comedy lineup on Thursday is really shaping up; Never Mind the Buzzcocks (Simon Amstell is really funny), then Beautiful People (which wasn't laugh-out funny, but had interesting characters and a great cast) and of course Graham Norton, which yesterday had (all hail now) Eddie Izzard and Harry Shearer (which reminded me I really have to start watching The Simpsons; I think I've seen a couple of episodes in all).

Labels: comedy, current affairs, eddie izzard, greg proops, simon shepherd, TV, william hurt

OK, so I won't have to go see The Sound of Music anyway, it seems. Simon Shepherd has pulled out of the show, so I am once again free to go see other shows. Which is good, because the tickets would have cost me a fortune. Apparently, the producers did not think he was a good enough singer.

Right, and as one of his biggest fans, I'm not particularly surprised, I'm afraid.

Labels: Lloyd-Webber, musicals, simon shepherd, theatre

Damn, damn and double damn! This means, as a bona fide Simon Shepherd fan, I need to actually go and see The Sound of Music anyway, and I was hoping not to.

Strange thing is, I was thinking about Simon just yesterday, for no apparent reason, how cool it would be to see him on stage. Yay.

Labels: Lloyd-Webber, musicals, simon shepherd, theatre

That's my life at the moment - I have a very stupid routine of waking up at nine, watching the news while in bed, getting up for a shower (and a wee, but not at the same time, because that would be...ew), checking my e-mail, watching This Morning while looking for work etc., picking up the post (more about this later), writing, doing the dishes, staring out of the window, writing a bit more, feeling stuck, making breakfast and lunch (if I can be bothered), watching Peak Practice, playing games or shopping or summat, watching The Paul O'Grady Show and then the news (usually on BBC1, unless I couldn't be arsed to switch channels and sit through the London news on ITV1), all the while surfing the net or playing games or other silly things, then the evening TV schedule takes off at around eight or nine, and it's time for supper. In bed before one o'clock but never asleep until two or three.

In other words, very boring.

So that could be why such a simple sentence as "A new series is planned" at the end of the Waking the Dead description in the Radio Times for next week cheered me up immensely.

About the post, or rather the postman: I met him last week when he rang our bell downstairs and told me there was a parcel waiting for me. I rushed downstairs and thanked him for being so kind as to actually letting us have the chance to pick up the parcel instead of having to ring them and arrange a different date (which they've done on several occasions before). He's rung our doorbell every day since and every day I get to know a little more about him. At first I didn't give it much thought, but it was getting a bit creepy yesterday when he rang the doorbell and said there was a parcel for me and then ended the sentence by using my first name. I honestly think he's just a social person and probably a bit bored and lonely on his route, but since my weirdo stalker back in Norway I'm rather cautious. And of course every person I don't know is a potential rapist and serial killer...you learn these things just from being of the female persuasion. Guys don't (think they) have to consider these things, but the way things are I'm pretty sure most girls have this thought stuck in their subconscience, especially when wandering the streets alone in the evenings. Wow, that was a train of thought our postman didn't deserve, I think. I apologise.

So, to sum up: Waking the Dead may have been recommissioned for a sixth series, I really should stop ordering things online, and my life is rather dull. If you would like to give me a job or just send me some money so that I can write full-time (which is a great investment, of course, since I will be sure to give you my special thanks when picking up both the Booker award and the Nobel prize), that would be greatly appreciated, especially by my nerves. *winks*

Current track: Sam Cooke - (Ain't That) Good News

Labels: gaming, personal, simon shepherd, trevor eve, TV, writing

I know I haven't been the most active blogger around lately, but I've been busy contemplating my navel, so just get over it.

Another attack on London yesterday, two weeks after the previous one, people not quite sure what to make of it. Go about our day as per usual, I suppose. In my case, that would mean not doing much. We still haven't rid our flat of several cardboard boxes from The Infamous Move, but we're getting there, I hope.

This means, of course, that I watch a lot of telly. Not during the day, mind you (apart from Peak Practice, but that's just common sense, since I've already seen the series twice before (and by that I mean the years when Simon Shepherd was in it, after that it became really dull)), and yesterday the long awaited new Gervais/Merchant series, The Extras began on BBC2. I could finally see the premiere live. Nice. Also a new series with Stephen Fry in it - always a must-see, his work. Unfortunately, both Airport and War at the Door ended yesterday, two programmes we've been addicted to ever since we moved here (Airport, of course, we also watched at home). And on Wednesday the dreaded series Journey to the End of the World or whatever it was called ended at last. That's four and a half hours of my life I won't get back. I've never seen a whole (mini-)series before where I haven't found any of the characters to be sympathetic. Pathetic, definitely, especially the protagonist, but I felt sympathy for just one of the other characters, and only on a few occasions. The rest of the time he was as nasty as the rest. In other words, not everything the Beeb spews out is top quality. Tut, tut.

This week I have been getting up early every day in order to be dressed for whenever the postman would ring our door. I ordered a few things last week and they were due for delivery this week. When the delivery man finally rang our door, on Wednesday, the fucking doorbell wouldn't work. I could see him, I could open the door, but he couldn't hear anything than a high-pitched whirr and never tried pushing the door open. By the time I arrived downstairs (bear in mind we live on the tenth floor with one very slow lift), he was long gone. Yesterday I gave up on them at around six o'clock (they'd sent me an e-mail telling me they would attempt redelivery between nine and five) and went to the loo. Guess what happened the second I sat down. Thank Bob for quick flatmates, though; she lept to the challenge and managed to get hold of the guy as he was trying to phone me (I had brought my mobile with me to the loo every time since Monday, but not this time). My new DVD-writer and camera tripod were safe. Phew.

Monday afternoon we went to Leicester Square to witness the UK premiere of The Fantastic Four. My flatmate is a fan of Ioan Gruffudd's and I tagged along to get a glimpse of him also (couldn't care less about the rest, to be honest - I haven't quite made up my mind about Michael Chiklis yet and the others I don't know at all). We got there two hours before anything interesting started to happen. By the time anything did happen, I had been bored for so long I had started eyeing one of the staff members instead, and at the exact moment the show started, I am not joking, it started raining. We were still trying to dry up from the last fall of rain, but this one just wouldn't stop. I hadn't brought my brolly because I knew we would be squashed together and wouldn't want to stick my umbrella in anybody's face or be the reason for their not seeing anything. I should have rethought that, because everyone else had brought an umbrella and didn't care less about the people around them. One of them used me as a combined umbrella stand and water drain (I certainly looked and felt like one) and another lady, shorter than me, kept poking me in the back of my head. When I turned around and asked her if she would stop poking me, she just glared at me and looked away. That was when I had had enough and left the scene. Too bad Ioan was just about to turn up. I went and stood under the awning of a kebab restaurant and kept myself busy looking for that staff member again, all the time keeping an eye on the big screen to see where the celebs were. When I realised Ioan had reached our end of the crowd, I skipped back and caught a glimpse of him, as well as my rather excited flatmate, frantically trying to take a photo of him. I have included the best one below for your viewing pleasure. We had actually agreed on dining out after the show, but at this point we were both soaking wet and decided to go back home instead. I stopped by Sainsbury's to buy some echinacea tablets, just in case, and then we went home and watched Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, which was much funnier the second time around (and with someone else in the room who actually understood the funny bits and was as embarrassed as I was).



Current track: Gloria Gaynor - I am What I am

Labels: current affairs, film, name-dropping, online shopping, personal, simon shepherd, TV

I have currently exactly 600 films on the Excel list of my film collection, which I don't actually consider a real collection, as it's more of a bunch of films that I personally appreciate, I don't just buy them because they're a must-have. However, I know there are a few films I haven't catalogued yet, must be about 25-40 in all. In other words, the collection is growing larger (and by the minute, I'd say - I just popped by Play to find a photo and two minutes later I'd ordered four films (well, they're Sir Alec Guinness classics that I don't have already.) Shame on me.

Actually, "personally appreciate" is a bit of a lie. I like most of the films, but some of them I bought because of some actor appearing in them and they turned out to be utter crap. So I guess from that aspect it's more of a collection; like I have to have all the films in which old so-and-so has appeared. Some of the films I've regretted (but still aren't as bad as Safe, directed by Todd Haynes and starring Julianne Moore - it has become the film I put every other film up against; we managed to sit through all of Safe but we were so bored it felt like it lasted for about four and a half hours, and I'm not exaggerating. It truly is pure boredom) are:

Alice - I generally hate Woody Allen films, but William Hurt (AKA The Actor of Which I Own the Most Films) was in it. Haven't managed to watch the whole film yet, and I got it eight or nine years ago.

American Buffalo - I like David Mamet and love Dustin Hoffman but this film was pointless.

The Beach - Not sure why I've got this. Because of Robert Carlyle, perhaps?

Caligula - Now this I bought merely because of Malcolm McDowell and because it's a cult film. Haven't watched all of it yet. Probably never will.

Cleopatra (the American TV version) - Bought it just because of Philip Quast (he's not appearing in that many films); have watched about 1/3 of it, but it's so Hollywood I can barely look at the cover without feeling a bit under the weather.

Eyes Wide Shut - I am really, really sorry, but even though I'm a huge fan of Stanley Kubrick, I thought this film gave me absolutely nothing. It was part of a Kubrick collection, otherwise I wouldn't have bought it.

The Fall - Another Philip Quast film. He's in four scenes. They're brilliant. The rest of the film is boring me to tears.

Fire, Ice & Dynamite - It's got a hilarious Simon Shepherd in it. The rest is very embarrassing.

Here on Earth - I have no idea why I've got this.

Little Noises - I think Crispin Glover is playing well in this, but I bought it because of Rik Mayall. Otherwise it's a pointless film.

Scorpion Spring - Because of Alfred Molina. He's cool, the film is...uhmm...have I used "boring" too much yet?

Current track: Erasure - Run to the Sun (Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun Mix)

Labels: alec guinness, alfred molina, dustin hoffman, film, lists, online shopping, philip quast, rik mayall, simon shepherd, william hurt

Peter Pan (the film, not the boy) waited for me at the post office today, along with My Mother Frank, Grim Fandango (yes, I know it's much too late to buy that game now) and Fire, Ice & Dynamite. Now, the latter is quite bad. I have actually watched it twice on telly, go figure, and now I've bought it on DVD. I promise you I probably won't watch it anytime soon. Then again, I may not keep my promise. I may just rush back from the office tomorrow in order to watch Simon Shepherd dressed in a pink skiing outfit. My, my. Anyway, I've watched about halfway through Peter Pan and I like the...uhmm...colours. A few funny lines in between all the rubbish ones, and it's nicely done but there's no way I would even consider watching this film if Jason Isaacs hadn't been in it. Enough said.

Current track: Starship - We Didn't Start the Fire (the worst song in history? Nah...)

Labels: film, jason isaacs, online shopping, simon shepherd

Sometimes it feels as if I'm the only one out there who's a fan of certain people. Like Simon Shepherd. Hands up those who like him. No, hands up those who've heard of him, apparently. And what about David Bamber? No? Ever seen Privates on Parade? Chalk? Buddha of Suburbia? No bells ringing? How about Pride and Prejudice, then? Or Daniel Deronda? Is there anyone out there who's a fan of Terence Stamp, then? Any non-French who's heard of Daniel Auteuil? Have I been watching too much telly??? :-)

I've spent many hours making my comedy favourite lists today. It's quite amazing that, although I must have seen about 50/50 of American and British shows, I've got three times as many British favourites as American ones. AND that includes one Canadian show. ;-) (How could I possibly ignore The Kids in the Hall?) Note that my list, which is situated as a permanent list at the bottom of the right hand menu, features only shows that I consider to be my definite favourites - even though I apparently have been watching way too much telly through the years, these are the shows that I come back to, that I think of at opportune and inopportune times, that I quote constantly. So...if you love any of those shows, even a few of them, we may have more in common than you think.

Current track: The Beatles - I'm Down

Labels: comedy, daniel auteuil, david bamber, film, simon shepherd, TV