July 13th, 2008


oh hai I have been watching the telly (bonekickers)

Other people have already stamped on the relic-filled grave of the rampantly silly Bonekickers, so I'll not keep you long with any insightful analysis, but I must just point out that the maverick archaeology team exposing the delightfully decorative bones at the heart of our deeply beloved, Templar-stuffed, police free merrie England appears to be led by none other than juggzy*, ably assisted by swisstone**. They also seem to have a couple of childrens' television presenters on their team, but that's probabaly just to win over the tweenies and the slash fans. I'm looking forward to future episodes starring uitlander as a modern-day devotee of some cat beetle god from Africa, and oxyrhyncite turning up for an episode where they need a motorbike to get the Holy Grail (or is it???) across St Michael's Mount causeway before the tide comes in and the Templars... actually, I never did figure out what it was the Templars were going to do when they found the true cross. Put it on television, probably. Anyway, juggzy should watch out, as her crazy mum is quite clearly mad Doctor Helen from Primeval, so she should stop worrying about sexy grad students penetrating her astro-archaeological cave of crazy and get in some good defences against dodos with brain parasites.

I'm quite a fan of the "is it, isn't it?" type supernatural drama, but usually find them too slow moving to avoid foundering in the quagmire of the silly. This one might still go down, but for them moment it's surfing along quite nicely.

*In a rather nice dark dye job. Looks good on you!
**He gets to wear the hat.
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big balloons

scandals of sunday

I asked timscience what he thought should be done about the scandalous cost of big bras (having noticed the Boobs 4 Justice teacupstorm wimbling across my friendslist) and he suggested making them cheaper by using less material, so that they become more diaphanous and flimsier. Methinks I hear the voice of self interest there.

Speaking of bras, the photographer from the midsummer ball just got round to uploading his also rans (I didn't make it into his top 100, which will teach me to wear a high neck dress). Check out special midsummer masquerade Jeremy! With pint of ale, mobile phone, and oh, a photograph I didn't notice being taken. Deluxe version comes with horsedrawn carriage, Baileys over ice and says "Let us in we're disabled!" to night porters when startled by Salisbury squaddies.

Oh, and to the 1.5 people who might be interested, here's a house. It'll certainly go before we can get out purchase requirement ducks into even a vague row, but it's nice, isn't it? You're looking at the slice o' brie shaped corner plot. We also saw a small place with a heavily overlooked garden, a broken boiler, and a cenobite in the corner of the kitchen which was, well, less enticing.

The estate agent recognised me from last time. For a moment she didn't know what to say. Fortunately, the house we were looking round contained a small and adorable rescue parrot called Alex, who broke the ice with a cheeky whistle.
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    crystal castles - chips chips chips!