My hour for tea is half-past five, and my buttered toast waits for nobody.

"There is a joy in killing Campbells, even fictionally." - Neil Gaiman

Or words to that effect, I meant to jot down the exact quote but lacked writing material and foolishly didn't get it down before it vanished from my poor noggin, nevertheless, I was just extremely bemused that Neil took part in the (deserved, imho via ancient blood feud) dissing of Clan Campbell. Bwahaha!

This, of course, was mainly just to annoy Mr Eddie Campbell, who was onstage at the time, bemoaning the number of Campbells despatched in Neil's story. Neil reposted with something like "Had I known you would be here I'd have made it sixteen," or, again, words to that effect. Snerk.

Yes, Neil Gaiman read The Truth Is A Cave In The Black Mountains, a story set in Scotland (hence the Campbells) on stage at the Opera House, accompanied by a string quartet and paintings by Mr Eddie Campbell. And I was in the fourth row (which shows you how long along I bought the tickets, in view of my sudden penury).

And it was wonderful. Just wonderful, just to be in that moment. And, bonus Kevin Smith - bwee! I thoroughly enjoyed the tale, even though I found it very familiar in parts (he later said it was based on local lore so I suspect that explains it). It was like having someone read to me from the books my grandmother used to send to me. So it was Very Special Indeed.
( more: elementary )

Snow. I'm thinking of snow at the castle. It just fell out of the sky in tiny pieces, and at first I thought it was ash. I'd never been snowed on before, well, I had, but this wasn't screaming in horozontally, this was gentle Christmas special snow. How lovely.

Though I told myself I wasn't going to use that word. Because what made me think of snow was remembering the time I was sitting there thinking how lovely, I think I'll stay here for a bit and instantly my spring day vanishes into a howling tempest. That's when I decided I would never ever sit out in the sun and declare it lovely. It was just asking for it.
( more: why does it always rain on me? )

Just one last pic of Titus and his pretty eyes before I have to move onto something else. Can't help myself, Titus and Lucius and the slashiest pair since Marcus and Esca strolled north of Hadrian's Wall (that's the chronological viewing, thereof, as Marcus' adventures historically occur much later than Titus', I think - BA? Wot BA?). It's just one of those things. The first time I watched Rome it was just so much homework and no fun at all. A year later and, watching it with a spurious romantic narrative which I seem to paste onto all action flicks, and it's sooo much fun. Besides, Rome is about brotherly love, the testing of it, the lack of it, true love and false whispers.

And besides, the look on Lucius' face when he realises he's about to watch Titus die in front of him and he just cannot do it, despite the consequences (though Julius is such a big softy when it comes to the boys), and if the testing of the bonds of brotherly love via mortal combat weren't enough, there's lashings of H/C to follow. Squeee!!!
( more: Davenport and Bean )

I can't help it. The idea of Man City chasing the pink dollar just keeps amusing me. Possibly only because I keep picturing Gene's reaction. Hee.

Meanwhile, Spring has sprung, etc. I've had two compliments on my brand new blouse with the highly stlised papyrus motifs swirling all over it, and three bouqets over the Daniel Craig scans (so there will be more Dan coming up, make no mistake, because thankyous always grease the wheels of the old scanner) and it makes such a lovely change to all the brickbats I was being clobbered with.
( more: trusting fools )

Adam Adamant: genteman spy


And...
Charlie Jackpot and Lucifer Box, of The Vesuvius Club
for sleeper_frost, per request :)
( +5 )

Och, lassie, it was hard getting up this morning. A real wrench. I was tired, unwell, unwilling to submit myself to the further bullying of my elders and betters, but most importantly, my bed was warm, the pain killers were just starting to kick in and Sharpe was being all golden and gorgeous on the telly. Sigh.

It was a particular tragedy as, anxious to get home in time for Sharpe the whole bus ride home, but with the driver preferring warp ten (as opposed to the one this morning who dribbled along as though there were a wee man in walking in front with a red flag) I made it home with a whole hour to spare (amazing what a difference a driver can make) and so I got myself all nice and comfy and turned on the telly and...Zzzzz....
( more tv views and some notes on the correct protocol for catfights )

How to spot a third wheel in a British television production, example one:

( more: grumpy, plague ridden old woman )

Sam Neill
( Now it's Sod's Law - the formula, Flying reptile mystery 'solved', The shape of fangs to come, Plasma TVs: a girl's new best friend, MTV cops and robbers, Life on Mars in Levenshulme, Time Lord handed permanent home, Fire wrecks James Bond film stage, Put it away, Sam ...  )

Last night I was watching the adventures of a man who wakes up in the wrong decade and staggers about, disorientated, thinking he's mad or some evil plot. Oh yeah, he was also frozen in a block of ice (and thanks to Austin Powers, smirking is inevitable). No, not Sam, not even Austin, but Adam Adamant. He of sword, cape and a strong aversion to women.

Oh yes. I've been after this series for (cough) twenty years since I first heard about it, heavily into my 60s spy phase. And, now, at last, as of last night, I have it, on shiny dvd, all 17 surviving episodes (Mine! Mine! All mine! Mwahaha!). There were thirty, but, as so often is the case, were wiped for some penny pinching saving just 20c bureaucratic felgercarb that can never justify the loss and destruction of cultural heritage. Though last night I was joking that the lost episodes may have spontaneously combusted from campiness. Oooh, they are camp. As a scout jamboree, ducky. Think Jason King, Wild Wild West and The Avengers. Then hit the frappe button.
( more: I've been frozen for 30 years. I've got to see if my bits and pieces are still working. )