Bone Idle

Jan. 29th, 2010 08:16 am
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I drove in today - normally, of course, I walk, but I'm still feeling pretty flaky, and I also wanted to take a detour via the Sorting Office to double-check that a missing eBay purchase wasn't languishing in the Royal Mail's dungeons sans Castle Fox notification card.

It wasn't :-/ So I'm chasing up the eBay seller at the moment. Joy.

I finished watching Edge of Darkness last night - good, good stuff from the 80s; quality drama, good storyline, excellent acting, but perhaps a little slow-paced compared to today's fare. On the other hand, I had a great time geeking out over all those 80s cars. The music is an Eric Clapton/Michael Kamen combo, and those two brought in David Sandborn to do the soundtrack to the first of the Lethal Weapons. The wheel turns full circle when you note that Mel Gibson was the star of Lethal Weapon, and he's again the star of the Edge of Darkness remake being released this year.

I've also just finished reading (well, actually, listening) to Cory Doctorow's Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom, mainly because that's the current discussion book for the Sword and Laser podcast. It had some nice touches, although I have to confess that I suspected whodunnit rather early on (perhaps as a consequence of the book's rather limited cast). Still, some interesting stuff therein, particularly about the psychology of a post-death society, and in a world of near-infinite resource, how they get around the money problem.
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In the customary fox-like manner of preparedness, P and I went to pick up tools that, in all probability, would have proved much more useful yesterday. Still, next time, I am totally sorted.

Anyway, B&Q, I learned to my cost, has taken to broadcasting covers of songs over the internal PA.

Not just any old covers, mind. Excruciatingly bad covers of really good songs.

Songs like Perfect (Fairground Attraction), Fast Car (Tracy Chapman), I Knew You Were Waiting (George Michael and Aretha Franklin). What makes things all the more painful is that the cover artistes are evidently trying to stamp their own personal authority through their warbling, and thus you're 'treated' to the most bizarre renditions of said ditties.

Poor P was watching me literally wince in pain as each successive travesty launched a fresh assault on the bastions of reason, good taste and ... well, just plain fair play.

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