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º March 5th-March 11th 2001
Sunday What a Carve-up
Saturday Vivid flashbacks
Friday Phone phrenzy
Thursday Pedestrian upgrade
Wednesday Face values
Tuesday Gay cliché
Monday Soup 2
º Sunday 11th March 2001
During yesterday's rare hangover-induced visit to Planet Couch Potato, I saw Spaced for the first time, and really liked it. (The landlady has me off pat, particularly the tongue work.)
I liked the seductive phone call that ended:
"So don't forget to wash your sheets..."
"Yeah"
"...and your penis."
I'm also enjoying Jonathan Coe's 'What a Carve-up' (almost as much as David did). My favorite exchange from that so far:
"It's getting very late," he said. "Perhaps you'd care to stay the night, and we could continue this story in the morning. Sadly this is a small flat and there is only the one bed, but -"
"It's only twenty to nine," I pointed out...
"Try not to make it obvious, Michael. That's all that I ask."
º Saturday 10th March 2001
A few vivid flashbacks are starting to bubble up from beneath the blanket of repression:
- Andy talking about 'taking it up the arse', to the fascination of the rest of the crowded restaurant
- a plate of fried toffee fritters with three candles stuck in them (we couldn't quite explain to the waiters that we were sending Richard off to work as a holiday guide in Spain)
- having to hold Alex upright at the Artful Dodger
- David falling onto the stage
- inspecting Sven's tan at the Spiral
- being offered a shag by some woman who either had very badly smeared lipstick or the worst facial rash I've ever seen.
I remember looking down the length of the table and thinking "three magnums of champagne, eight bottles of white, six bottles of red, quite a lot of beer and, oh, is that a bottle of vodka? Well there's no way 16 people can get through that lot."
But after that I remember very little indeed.
(And what's Sinead O'Connor doing there?)
This is going to be one of my worst hangovers ever, I just know it.
º Friday 9th March 2001
Yesterday was probably my busiest day yet, here at Blogadoon.
But given that I managed to upload a version of the page that doesn't have the stats-counters code, who knows?
Yesterday The Star (a tabloid newspaper m'lud) carried mobile phone related ads on pages 5, 7, 10, 11, 12, 15, 17, 20, 22, 23, 25, 35, 38 and 44.
Wtf?
º Thursday 8th March 2001
Death-toll amended to acknowledge more than 60 schoolchildren killed when their classroom blew up whilst they were assembling firecrackers.
"Shoppers, the folks who built the shop you were visiting have directed you to this car showroom to improve your retail experience. Pedestrians are keeping the High Street (and your experience) from being all it could be. Please consider upgrading to one of the following cars, which make it easier for shop-owners to be sure the shops you visit will work correctly."
I dare say people like Mo have excellent reasons for excluding those of us who deliberately move at the speed of the slowest ships in the convoy (aka 'ordinary people') but given that I'm excluded from his site I couldn't possibly, ah, comment.
Meg is excellent today (except for the fact that she thinks Cow Gum is brown).
Seen at the White Swan at midnight for the drunken shambles known as Amateur Strip Night:
- Darren, looking very...what is the adjective from 'rent-boy'?...rented. (Watching people that I know take part in the contest when they're drunk usually makes me pretty uncomfortable but, hey, I don't know Darren that well and he's slightly cute, so... Plus, he was pretty good.)
- Mad Marseillais Mike, whom I forgot to ask if he'd been to the LA redux night at 333 but I bet he did
- Wayne (now working behind the bar at Bow Quarter) whom I know wouldn't go near 333 for all the he in China
- Mark, who likes Dick, and whose bf is away for three weeks
- Barry, ex H20, edible as ever
- Graham Norton plus entourage but minus any hot celebrity guests
- Her from Greenwich, another contestant
- Two boys who looked as if they'd been run up in some mad gay scientist's lab, camp as tits, ripped to the tits. If you think about it (and I don't propose you do) two amiably-ex-boyfriends should make the perfect recipe for a strip-duo. The crowd went wild and they won.
'Sure, people read this blog, but I'm wondering if they do so for the same reason that people stop and stare at mangled bodies being toted away from crushed automobiles. "Wow, that Jeff... he's pretty fucked up. Glad I'm not that bad."' Oh, bless.
And he's worried that life may end at 30. Bless, bless.
And he has a date on Saturday. Bless, bless, bless.
Tin Man, I think I love you.
º Wednesday 7th March 2001
So, farewell then, most famous coffee machine in the world.
The latest guest speaker at the Oxford Union says that every child deserves "the right to be thought of as adorable (even if you have a face that only a mother could love)."
Spoken from the heart, Michael.
And speaking of The Human Face...Tonight on BBC1, a man who made £7 million when he sold his production company, who's a visiting professor at Cornell University, who's married to a psychotherapist and who plays Nearly Headless Nick in the new Harry Potter film. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome: John Cleese
º Tuesday 6th March 2001
Death-toll amended to acknowledge more than 70 lives lost as a bridge collapses in the north-west of Portugal, sweeping a coachload of day-trippers to their deaths in the Douro.
Tired of net-trivia-memes? Need to expand your intellectual horizons? Boxmind offers on-line illustrated annotated lectures by a dozen of the world's leading academics (John Searle, Steven Pinker and, yes Cal, Richard Dawkins) free till the end of March. (Apparently. I can't check it out because the site requires Windows Media Player, grrr.)
"Do you have your hair cut
a) at regular intervals, or
b) when people make fun of you?
Hmmm. I scored 67 per cent on the Metrosexuality quiz: "Not a gay cliché yet, but you're well on your way." Surely they mean icon?
Popped over to Paris to visit L'Opera with David and Michael, where we were warned not to touch the members of the cast unless we wanted to go home covered in blood. Then I realised it was a new production of Sartre's existential drama Les Mains Sales; a very new production, with Sixties interiors so groovy that when the curtains opened, all the queens scrambled over the orchestra pit to point out the inflatable chairs to each other. Similar excitment when the principals first appeared amongst the audience, with particularly noisy admiration reserved for their splendid epaulettes.
It's Sartre, Jim, but not as we know it. Then I woke up.
Three answers that might figure in tonight's Pop Quiz (but won't):
¶ Shaggy
¶ Bread
¶ Monty Norman
º Monday 5th March 2001
Soups of the World part two:
Tesco 'Broccoli & Stilton' Is it just me who, when confronted by a combination of smelly cheese and granular green vegetable matter, thinks 'mmm, body-mould'?
St Michael 'Spiced Lentil & Vegetable' Not unpleasant, but very very thick - the canned equivalent of a wholemeal Arran sweater (but saltier).
Heinz 'Chicken Noodle' Nicer than the Knorr equivalent (well, less vile) but...gluey. The tiny specks of red are pepper; the little yellow lumps of something that looks like fossilised baby teeth are sweetcorn. Presumably.
David asks "Why do the Gents' at the William IV pub in Hampstead always smell of fish fingers?" An entirely different question, if you think about it, to "Why does the Gents' at the William IV pub in Hampstead always smell of fish fingers?" Damned if I know, either way, but it reminds me that in Lust, Michael summons up the Bay City Rollers for sex, but decides against it because they smell of stale crisps.
Crossroads returns to ITV at 1:30 and 5:05 this afternoon. An interview in the Independent with Tony Adams (Adam Chance) reveals that the scriptwriters had originally intended Sandy's use of a wheelchair to be strictly temporary, but unfortunately after they'd announced the disease he was suffering from, they discovered it was incurable...
Guy says he would have been leaving the BBC via the door right by the bomb at the time it went off - but it was a quiet news night so he left early.
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