Preston Foster On The Road

Went down to David's tonight for a Preston Foster Appreciation Society away meeting. David lives in a village near York and so we motored over after work. Whilst number one wife was buying Christmas cards in a good cause and discussing the price of Daleks (on the rise apparently) we were down in the village pub (rather a low ceiling) discussing everything else.

A very good time was had by all, and we motored back in time for bed at midnight.

There's No Place Like Rome

Watched the first episode of "Rome" last night. It is a tale of epic proportions about an epic story set in epic locations epically. All the usual suspects are there, Mark Anthony (why did they give him two first names?), Julius Caeser (famous salad inventor), Brutus (who later moved into aftershave) etc etc.

Very graphic. A lot of writhing, nubile, bodies and swords going through people. And yet it is still shaping up like any other big budget soap:

Flawed hero: check
Principled but doomed bloke: check
Scheming woman: check
Doomed lovers: check
Powerful and ruthless leader: check
Another Powerful and ruthelss leader to take him on: check
Headstrong and ultimately evil younger bloke: check
Patterned Hearthrug: check (actually I made this one up)

We are still going to watch it I suppose, after all, Cleopatra will probably be turning up later. And I wouldn't want to miss that.

Do I?

One thing which is guaranteed to take the spring out of your step is being told you look ill. Someone said it to me this morning, with the best of intentions, and I was forced to admit that I don't at the moment feel that unwell. Admittedly this twiddling round with the hour that we do for British summer time does upset my delicate constitution slightly, and this week has been quite busy (although I can't really remember what I've been doing) but I don't consider myself ill at the moment.

This has been known to happen to me in the past, I feel quite tickety boo, but rest of world seems to consider me not so. Perhaps my binge drinking (apparently if you have more than two pints in a session you are now a binge drinker) yesterday has caught up with me (I had three pints). Whatever.

But then having pondered the matter, I've decided that there is only one thing worse. That is when you feel truly awful and everyone tells you how fit you are looking. I'm pretty sure I'd hate that.

Feet of Clay

I've always kind of wondered whether, as we get older, we don't turn into all those things that, as youngsters, we despised in other people.

I've always kind of seen myself as an easy going kind of fellow, anxious not to upset other people and not inclined to get worked up in a crisis. (you can laugh now if you like)

However, yesterday I got all upset when lots of stuff went wrong and found that through stupidity and inaction I had contrived to upset somebody else. Ho hum. Sorry folks.

To Podly Go....

My voice is now out there... Rory has launched his TinyThings podcast. If you want to hear what I sound like, then you can go and listen to my gadget bit in the middle of the interesting stuff.