I'm not going to recommend that you watch Top Gear. But I am going to point out that last night's edition featured:
- Jeremy Clarkson removing all SUVs from the Cool Wall.
- Simon Pegg sharing stories about firearms as this week's star in a reasonably priced car.
- Rocket car death-dodger Richard Hammond and the vague hairy one turning a Reliant Robin into a Space Shuttle, then launching it several thousand feet into the air on an ENORMOUS rocket. Explosive bolts, remote piloting system, the works.
- Top Gear Dog in a wind tunnel.
Yesterday was a domestic day. I got the woodpecker door-knocker (a gift from mum) onto the wall, backed up load of music files, polyfillaed about half of the terrifying spider holes in the electrics cupboard and converted an old Le Creuset kettle into a hanging basket. Perhaps next time I should *start* with cleaning the bathroom?
The title is something someone said to me in a dream last night. I had to pick a duck, but the choice was really limited; a bespoke duck.
*If there was one thing about Torchwood that was a constant jab in the eye, it was how everyone dressed the same, even down to using the same shade of brown hair-dye. It was like looking at a Vertigo comic before Grant Morrison.