• Mood: baking bloody hell
• Music: bowie - boys keep swinging

curing my illness

Cure 1: Pirates of the Caribbean, quite the salty beauty, and such range, trailing influences from Austen adaptations to Iron Maiden covers ... however, as Damian pointed out, no chests! There's Orlando Bloom being dumb and beautiful, an over-mascara-ed Johnny Depp (from his performance, still not over his little crush on Hunter S Thompson), and a cherry-lipped Jack Davenport and does anyone strip off? No, it's dandy highwayman all the way, and damnit, it's not really a pirate movie until someone's stripped down to stripey tights and swung from the rigging. Maybe they're saving it for the sequel. Please let there be a sequel. Quite apart from sorting out any lingering mysteries about Will's Dad there's a whole of seam of Anne Bonny and Mary Read potential to be explored with Liz and Annamaria.

Cure 2: On the recommendation of greengolux I tried a Jaspar fforde which was great for malingering doldrums. It's apparently not science fiction, quite an acheivement for something that reads like somebody crossed five Cheapass Games* with Cold Comfort Farm, and perfect reading for pretentious English Literature graduates with a penchant for reading the New Scientist. You've been warned.

Cure 3: However, the most important thing I did was retrace a route I felt I had been mistaken in taking or had taken wrongly just over two weeks previously, since when, I've not felt entirely right. I retook it on Sunday and found queer pride grafitti, a boat with a confusing name, and a car in an entirely unexpected place. Sorted.

It's too hot to complain about the weather. For some quality ranting about the heat, check out la belle vie de Jonathan Larabie. I recommend 16 July.

*For reasons of simplicity I am counting Chrononauts as a Cheapass Game.