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

Laurie, who keeps his US accent in between takes, says: "I know I'm not the first British actor to play an American in a network TV show - in this, as in so many other aspects of my life, I have modelled myself on Jane Seymour - but I have tried to represent the UK as well as I know how. I am punctual, sober, I know my lines and I haven't threatened any of my co-workers with a gun. If that has helped smooth the way for other British actors, hooray!" - The Guardian

I just loved the "hooray" at the end. I'm not sure if I should picture him in full Bertie mode, or young George. Oh, I miss Blackadder. I miss Jeeves and Wooster. Hmm....box set???

Btw, fabby Roman mosaic on Time Time the other week. I love a good mosaic.

Meanwhile, this is just too cute:

Bradley James (who plays Arthur) is a bit like a son to me, and I’m a bit like a father to him. And, Colin Morgan (who plays Merlin) and Bradley get along really well. They have the same relationship, off screen. He doesn’t push Colin around like he does on screen, but the banter is there. And, they have this very strange humor that no one else gets, and they just crack up at each other’s jokes. - IESB
( more: knickers, twisted )

"...a parcel of big, ugly, fat-necked, wombat-headed, big-bellied, magpie-legged, narrow-hipped, splay-footed sons of Irish bailiffs or English landlords which is better known as officers of Justice or Victorian Police, who some calls honest gentlemen. But I would like to know what business an honest man would have in the Police, as it is an old saying, It takes a rogue to catch a rogue." - Edward Kelly

Wednesday: I just couldn't remember the exact quote the other night while washing the dishes (I can't remember how it came up in conversation but it did). I often read damning articles in the foreign press about Ned Kelly, demanding to know why we love an outlaw, but they've not read the Jerilderie Letter. True, he was a killer, but he also had a charm and cheeky wit - the quintessential bad boy.
( more: quirky cops, grumpy cops, euro cops, super cops )

Alas, pop music didn't want to save me, then, or now. Oh well. I'm in a mood, a definite mood. I may take myself outside at lunchtime (barricaded up the wazoo) and get myself arrested for some un-American activity, just because I'm bored and restless.

Okay, enough with the blackhawks. There's only so many times one can hum Ride of the Valkyries before insanity really kicks in.

Meanwhile, up to my arse in work again, actually, drowneded in it, which is a pity because I had a third fic write itself out in my head last night/this morning. I was thinking it was a somewhat Kurosawa version of The Gest, but really, it's just Kill Bill, but whatever. Violence, revenge and mayhem, that's the main thing (besides, it's meant to be cathartic). I could write it out whole, today, and finish it and post it tonight, done deal, but for this thing we call work. Sometimes it's very frutrating to be a wage slave. Oh, to be supported by a rich and indifferent husband, but not me, alas.
( more: love will tear us apart )

Friday: Tech failures meant an enforced early mark. Popped off to pub but due to Friday night crowd, quickly decamped to fave restaurant up the road for an excellent nosh up. Then we raced up to see Dylan Moran. Hysterically funny. A very, very grumpy old man. Managed to catch pentultimate bus home.
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