I can’t really get a long review together, and really, does a kid’s scifi tv show (though if you ask me the “kids” this series seems to currently be aimed at are of the 15-to-35-year-old anime-fan demographic) deserve a long review? Also I haven’t seen the new episodes enough times to really get an idea of what I think of them. Anyway, here goes (contains spoilers so I’ll put it after the “more” tag):
Well, maybe not the whole day, but I have just got to get out of here for a while. No one else is awake (or at least blogging) at this hour anyway, so I have nothing to read, you slackers!
PS: I went for a walk around the apartment complex yesterday. It’s pretty big and spread out — the previous one I lived in was all cramped together. This one has two swimming pools, two laundry complexes, and a nice pond. It’s all more or less well-kept, and though there are a lot of the usual oaks there is more open space so grass can grow. Not bad. Eventually I will take some pictures.
Update: okay, that was boring and pointless. I guess I’m not in the mood for going anywhere after all. The weather isn’t helping — it’s hot and there’s a gusty, humid wind like someone blowing their bad breath on you, and a hint of thunderstorm without the actual thunderstorm. On the other hand, I finally just heard some thunder. I really hope it rains — the grass is dead everywhere.
Late Nite Update: okay, it finally rained a little. But really, we need more than that. We need several days of straight rain.
Oh God, apparently Ted Kennedy has been rushed to the hospital. I hope it’s nothing worse than an impacted ham sandwich, because I don’t think I could take the All-Kennedy-All-The-Time worship-fest that the media will indulge in if it turns out to be more serious.
Update: exactly.
Good grief, it’s like having children. The cat not only needed her regular shots, she also turned out to have infected teeth which needed tending to, so that was another hundred bucks out of my rapidly diminishing to nothing funds. I thought she’d been acting funny around food lately… The vet gave her Valium (I should have asked for some for me); she’s still stoned and right now is stumbling around the apartment like a drunk looking for his flask. As for me? Well, I have a headache — a combination of no breakfast and having to deal with Central Florida drivers.
Donations kindly accepted, and I promise to spend them on important things like rent and gas, not more Valium for me the cat. Honest.
(PS: thanks! Anyone want to hire a middle-aged “super temp”? I’ll keep your time machine clean…)
Oh shit, I just made a comment on Tim’s new site and spelled Guantanamo as “Guanatamo.” I think. Oops.
And I haven’t even touched the mead.
(The Newly Jobless Bleg is in effect! Thank you to all who have donated!)
Update: I am not drunk enough, I can still feel my face. Upcoming review — maybe, if I don’t pass out — of this night’s Scifi Channel showing of Doctor Who coming up, if I don’t pass out first. Let’s just say… that England’s dreaming, again.)
Guess what, folks — you know that new job I’d been so happy with? Well, I’ve just been fired! Oh, it’s nothing I did, they said — they just couldn’t afford to keep me on. Jeez. Between the floundering big-money corporations and the struggling mom-‘n’-pops, it doesn’t seem like I’ll have a job any time soon.
Needless to say, I’m starting a new bleg. Links on the right, etc., etc. Now I’ve got to go update my resume and send it out again.
Well, I finally finished watching the Doctor Who dvd I had on last night — Revelation of the Daleks was the title of this series of installments, by the way, with Colin Baker as the Sixth Doctor and some since-vanished actress as his perpetually terrified companion — and I must say that the Tinned Ones (the Daleks) stole my heart with the way they eliminated a “deejay” played by the unfunny 80s comedian Alexei Sayle. Lord knows the acting on The Young Ones was never RSC level, but Sayle’s recurring appearances on said show were always a signal for one of us to press the fast-forward button on the VCR remote. I used to long for some sort of flesh-blasting raygun to render him a silent heap of meat; the writers of this episode must have felt the same way I did. Go, Daleks!
So, impelled by a strange force from outside the solar system, or something, I’ve been exploiting my Netflix account in order to watch just about every single episode of Doctor Who that has been released on dvd (at least, those titles which Netflix has acquired). In the mail today came some offerings from the “Sixth Doctor” era — some dude named Colin Baker is the Doctor, some chick with a there-and-gone-again accent is the girlfriend (oh, okay, “companion” — geez), and it’s The Eighties, which I gather from the plots, the surprising lack of acting excellence for something British, and the general tinfoil/kandy-kolouredness of the sets was a particularly bad time for Britain, whatever said decade may have been for the US. Still, Baker wasn’t that bad of a Doctor — don’t know why they fired him for that weird fat guy, wosname. (More about Seventh Dr. some time in the future, if I can bring myself to write about it.) He probably wanted a real salary, oops. Anyway, I’m watching this, and then there appears on the screen my ex-boyfriend. The hell??? I swear, the actor playing this character (a real doctor on the episode’s planet, apparently) looked exactly like my ex, right down to the hair. Don was famous for defying fashion norms and doing things like showing up at parties in the late 90s dressed in a polyester suit just like Carl Kolchak’s. It’s too bad I never talk to the jerk or else I’d show up at his house with the dvd and force him to watch it. He liked crappy tv too. His loss!
I was planning this year, if I ever managed to save enough money (i.e., juggle my bills cleverly enough), to renew my passport, book a ticket to the UK, and catch a performance of Hamlet, my favoritist play ever, currently starring my current favoritist actor (hey I like skinny white guys, and I don’t care that he drives a Prius). But I’ll bet you the fucker is sold out by now, and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to do anything but possibly renew my passport. Alas. The fact that a lot of the people renting out the planes at my place of work are from Across the Pond (taking advantage of the current strong Euro and relatively cheap US fuel prices, they all tell me) doesn’t help one bit. I really need to see my ancestral home before it goes completely Muslim/Chav. Sniff.
Update: did I completely fuck up the title to this post? Yup, I did. Oh well — FIXED. Damn white zinfandel.