Big News

On Tuesday, I went to Salsa. I have been moved up to the Intermediate/Advanced class. I am struggling. Still, my lovely neighbour Alistair, who I go to the class with, is also in the I/A class and has been taking me through things slowly and repeatedly, so bless him.

In other news, my friend David is in hospital at the moment and has been very ill indeed, having had major surgery at the beginning of the week and subsequently been in intensive care for a couple of days. If anyone out there prays regularly (unlike the heathen that I am) then I'd appreciate a couple sent his way. He has a fantastic scar which practically bisects his entire torso, currently held together with staples so he looks like something out of Hellraiser. Very cool. I've reassured him that Chicks Dig Scars and he can tell them it's a (very neat) shark bite.

My Darkplace

I've just downloaded a few episodes of Garth Marenghi's Darkplace from Limewire: if you never saw it Shame On You. And don't come the 'ooh downloading programmes illegally, eh?' card with me; I'd buy the DVD if it had come out yet, I am merely whetting my appetite for the day it's released. Anyway, I couldn't get episode six for some reason, so I went a-hunting on t'interweb to see if I could find it there. On my travels, I came across a forum discussion about the new Channel 4 comedy series The IT Crowd, which stars Richard Ayoade, who is also in/directed Darkplace. I've watched a couple of episodes of it, it's alright but a bit disappointing given that it's got a great cast and is written by Graham Linehan, who wrote Father Ted. The forum discussion I found had several people complaining - I swear to God - that there wasn't enough actual IT in it.

Speechless.

My efforts. Not perfect, but it's harder than you think!

Tremendous stuff.

I know it's happening, but I'm powerless to prevent it. I'm trying, really I am. But slowly, but surely, I'm turning into my mother.

What is it that makes me want to talk to strangers? When I see someone at the checkout at the supermarket with some nice pudding on the conveyor belt, why do I want to tap them on the shoulder and say 'Oooh, I'm coming over to you for dinner tonight!'? Why can't I help myself asking some poor unsuspecting waitress where she got her shirt, because it's really nice and the cut looks great on her? What possesses me to embarrass the mumbling teenager in WH Smiths by asking him if he knows he's got beautiful eyelashes?

Of course, I know exactly what it is that makes me do it. It's what my mother always did, whilst I squirmed with embarrassment next to her, amazed that she couldn't see how inappropriate it was. But nowadays, I see it all so differently. Why not? Why not tell someone that they have a pleasing facial feature or good taste in clothes/food? Why is it so bad? Surely, SURELY, it's a nice thing to do?

I can't help myself.

Oh dear.

Turnabout trailers

Have you seen this? It's a newly cut trailer for The Shining, which turns it from terror-fest into a heartwarming family film. It won a competition and has since earned much recognition via t'interweb and spawned many other amusing efforts from bored editors. This one is pretty good, this one isn't bad either. But here's my favourite of all time.

Hoff Magic

Probably the best video ever.