My second in command wants a dog. We’ve decided to introduce one to our home on retirement. Well, it wouldn’t be fair on any creature to have to fit around our lifestyle. While the arrival of such a creature may be several years away, my second in command has already decided on a name. Hector. Apparently, she has fond memories of watching the children’s TV series, Hector’s House.
I’m currently watching Kelly’s Heroes, a film I first watched, in Sunderland, with mates, when I was around 14. So much time has passed since then; I have a grandchild of pretty much the age I was at the time, and a couple of that bunch of mates are no longer with us (Geoff Strong and Steve Aiken). Great memories.
Years have passed and I keep thinking … burning bridges lost for evermore.
I’m currently watching Stargate Universe on Netflix. It’s not great, but a person doesn’t need to think too much while viewing. However, at the end of this particular episode, just after the hallucinogenic alien tics were removed from people’s heads, and just as I was starting to nod off, the music caught my attention. Eels. Eels’ Agony, from the Souljacker album. One of their best albums. I may need to watch the remaining (many) episodes.
I’m probably the last person on earth to recognise that Nick Cotton’s ex is actually Mrs Doyle.
Currently watching the Father Ted Christmas special.
I’m currently watching a film with my second in command’s dad, on Movie Mix. I’ve no idea what it’s called, but it’s about the restoration of Christmas Lodge, basically a lodge in the mountains. Fortunately, God is on hand to help.
I swear I’ve never heard the Lord mentioned so many times in just over an hour.
Now two families that’ve both been through hard times are united for Christmas at the newly restored Christmas Lodge. There’s a marriage proposal too. And grandpa’s playing the fiddle for the first time since his wife died.
I may vomit.
And now it’s Mr Ferry. He went to school with my uncle Ed.
The £150 ticket price tag for the City Hall feels wrong. I’m sure he must have played there for pence before he became well known.
Come on Mr F, have some respect for your roots.
They were so bad, they were bordering on good. After a few beers.
The picture’s rubbish, but the TV wouldn’t keep still.
One of the best things about being off work has to be the opportunity to watch rubbish on TV. And the cactus kid is certainly rubbish.
One does wonder when Cowboys stopped wearing big hats.
Or why they ever wore them in the first place.
Trapped in a what?!
Anyone got an embarrassing itch, deformity or smell? Why not tell the world about it?
