cheese-grater noses
Wednesday, 3 September 2008 12:52 pmI'm becoming increasingly more enamoured of Farscape as this season (the fourth) progresses. Just at the point where I'm about to get all annoyed at someone's incomprehensible behaviour (usually Crichton's), there's a sudden twist and everything falls into place. Some interesting writing here, although it's a bit patchy at times. Commandant Grayza is narking me off, she's such a howling femme-fatale stereotype. Also, I do wish there weren't so many gross-out bits in so many episodes. I don't enjoy having to suppress a gag reflex when I'm watching TV: we've had to institute a "Farscape Only After Supper" rule. Slimy bits, so done.
While I'm in the regressive favourite-kiddielit mode after yesterday: does anyone else cherish memories of a kids' book called Bottersnikes and Gumbles? It's written by an Australian author, and features the ongoing war between Bottersnikes, lazy, sadistic monsters with cheese-grater noses who live in junk heaps, and Gumbles, which are soft, giggly, shapeless creatures. The Bottersnikes were always capturing the Gumbles and squishing them into jam tins. I vividly remember borrowing the book from a classmate when I was about nine years old: his name was Clive and he had, if I remember rightly, a horrible crush on me. Ten minutes on teh internets this morning has revealed that I've never subsequently found a copy of the book because the damned thing is out of print. I could buy the complete collection off Amazon Marketplace for £114, which seems a bit steep for childhood nostalgia. Phooey. We need a reprint, stat.
How sweet! This afternoon's Nigerian scam comes from "MR.SY MAILCK DODO" and starts with the cheery salutation "Hello, Dear!"
Last Night I Dreamed:
wolverine_nun gave me a long necklace of rather lovely smoky quartz beads which were either (a) mined in her garden, or (b) crystallised out of melons that were grown in her garden. I also spent a lot of time trying desperately to have a series of cat pictures framed so I could use them in a tut. (Memo to self: collect w-n's birthday present from the framers this evening.) Later I snuck around trying to get into the wooden hut in the snow-bound forest, so that I could download all the incriminating information from the inhabitant's camera. (Memo to self: watch less X-files).
How sweet! This afternoon's Nigerian scam comes from "MR.SY MAILCK DODO" and starts with the cheery salutation "Hello, Dear!"
Last Night I Dreamed:
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