Last night was a pretty good night after all – good food, medicine excellent company, outrageous flirting and by far the greatest strawberry daiquiri I’ve had in many a month. Sometimes I’ve been known to wonder aloud if the strawberries aren’t quite in season… 😉 Pre-dinner, I dragged our William around the new-look Frasers cosmetic department, which I think may have fried his brains somewhat. Either that or I should look into getting my legs insured.
Sleepy-drunkenness made Spooks all the more enjoyable. God knows what Lola and I will do once this series finishes – get lives probably. Night-vision goggles! Techie geek humour! The mental image of Anna Chancellor as a Victorian headmistress! Ruth and Harry trying to pretend they aren’t slowly smouldering at each other with all the coyness of a season one Mulder and Scully (only he’s, like, old and she has better clothes)! And next week is the Princess Diana conspiracy theory episode. Why anybody would voluntarily go out on a Thursday night is beyond me.
And then there was you… 🙂
And then there was the Tory leadership debate on Question Time, or at least the little of it I watched before they started ranting about how “we never signed up to a Country of Europe” and I went meh and threw the remote at the TV and went to bed. I’m actually rather impressed with David Cameron – I haven’t actually heard him speak before, and he’s a lot more charismatic than the foppish, Hugh Grant-esque character you’d expect with the sound down. David Davis strikes me as yet another of the seemingly endless parade of “grey men” the Tories seem to be able to trot out at regular intervals. which means he’ll probably win. Not that it matters, because the Tories will never be a serious opposition again now that they’re less right-wing than our supposedly left-of-centre New Labour goverment (did you hear their reaction to the proposed 90 days without trial holding period for suspected terrorists?) Which is a terrible thing for democracy, because I don’t know if any other party is strong enough yet.
God bless you Rebekah Wade – you’ve done more to raise the profile of domestic abuse in this country than your paper ever managed. The Sun rather sheepishly included what to every other paper was front-page news in a sidebar under the similar predicament involving Ross Kemp’s Eastenders on-screen brother. You couldn’t make this stuff up… although the cynic in me can’t help but wonder if perhaps you probably can…
Oh dear, it seems I’ve taken to expressing my reactions with punctuation rather than words. It’s more economical, I suppose
Is it Friday Thing time yet? It seems to get later every week. Which I suppose is just as well or I’d never get a thing done.