Last night, Darth Vader came down from planet Vulcan and told me that if I didn’t take Lorraine out that he’d melt my brain

you have to love it when the clocks go back – an extra hour in bed is possibly one of the greatest things known to the human race. it feels like cheating. stolen bed time, sneaky sleeping.


Period military uniform isn’t the dress of a straight man

so, finally torchwood is here! and….

i loved it.

just dark enough (i actually found the long pan into the weavil quite spooky) without loosing the jokieness that i enjoy in new-who it feels enough like a different beast to make it worthwhile. wry, punchy and entertaining. i think gwen is great – russel t davies does seem to have a knack for interesting, non-model type females (there was also a nice little sideswipe to her appearance in the unquiet dead regarding the harmfulness of ‘gas’) and i love the jack swagger so much i could yelp. the first episode proper (day one) was cleary chosen to excersise it’s post-watershed muscle and by and large this worked in it’s favour. my only quibble is that it was perhaps a little too demonstrative of it’s rebel sexuality (girl on girl and everything :wink:) and that if this is indicicitive it may become a bit too much of an ethical sounding board (my main issue with queer as folk, in fact)
davies was quoted as saying:

Without making it political or dull, this is going to be a very bisexual programme. I want to knock down the barriers so we can’t define which of the characters is gay. We need to start mixing things up, rather than thinking, ‘This is a gay character and he’ll only ever go off with men.

and i think this is great. fucking great in fact – but he must be careful it doesn’t eclipse the rest of the program. this is a minor worry so far however and i know that i will be glued to the box for the rest of the series.

i’m so glad jack’s back.


(p.s weird torchwood fact: toshiko was the poor pregnant friend that had her baby deliver by rubber glove clad geri in spiceworld: the movie!)

An autobiography is an obituary in serial form with the last installment missing

i’m a big reader of both biographies and autobiographies – though my favourites have often been by ‘normal’ people like edwin wintle, augusten burroughs, alexandra fuller and lauren slater. however despite the volumous amounts of jordan/jodi/geri drivel the celebrity world has thrown up many gems too (errol flynn, john lydon and the recent chris heath biography of robbie williams being notable examples) so i was particularly excited to hear that adam ant was publishing his memoirs:

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sadly the best thing i have to say about ‘stand and deliver’ (what else?) is that it is a feat of epic proportions to make that interesting a life sound quite so fucking dull. it is worth pointing out that i love adam (with or without ants) but found myself skim reading whole chunks of this book. punk, souxie soux, pop fame, heather graham, manic depression – there is a lot of material there – and yet i found it sludgy, self indulgent and boring. sometimes a little ‘ghost’ writing is a good thing. i’ve always credited him as a bright man, and i still think he is, but he is surely not a very self aware one.

still, how about a bit of classic antmagic to help us all forget?

the announcment of billie piper’s autobiography on the other hand was, ironically, a much more take it or leave it affair for me:


jacketed with a kerry katona identikit cover and a given the, frankly awful, title ‘growing pains’ i approached with trepidation. generally those under 30 should on no account publish autobiographies but this was, surprisingly, one of the notable exceptions. billie herself says in the book that she wanted to call it ‘dog years’ (surely a better title?) for this exact reason but that her publisher nixed the idea.
my inclanation to read this in the first place stemmed partly from loving her as rose but also having seen her interviewed in real life and thinking she seemed like a really genuine lass, a feeling that has only been increased having read this. it is in no way a muck raker – other than her own muck – and she is very generous with those she writes about, richie neville and chris evans included. she is very even in discussing her problems with her parents attributing these issues squarely with herself as well as her family – though surely they must take a little of the blame for allowing a 14 year old girl to go on the road with only a middle aged male manager as gaurdian?
she offers a very different perspective on her pop carear (brutal honesty about the quality of the material and the limits of her vocal talent) and her marriage (not in fact the worst thing that ever happened to her) from the recieved media wisdom and having grown up split between the weird polar opposites of a scholarship place at the infamous sylvia young’s midweek and ‘bucket bongs’ in a field in swindon at the weekend aknowledges those aspects of her life that are celebrity cliche (eating disorders, depression, exhaustion) with a ballsy, unself-pitying candour that is beyond rare in celeb memoir.
don’t get me wrong, it’s not a literary masterpiece but it’s well worth a read and will only serve to endear you to her.

a few choice quotes…

on teenage fashion:

the look at the time was all about scraped back hair and scrunchies, from which carefully selected strands would hang like tampon strings down the side of your face.

on anorexia:

the only tip you’ll get out of me is this: the tissue thing was bollocks – it didn’t work. not only was i still hungry, i nearly chocked on a ball of tissue when it momentarily got stuck in my throat. that would have been a nice way to go.

on her ‘casual’ look:

work-horse to domestic bliss. dolly bird to something the cat dragged in.

‘weak’ voice or not, ‘honey to the bee’ is a very underrated piece of pop lovlieness…

kinder whore

since i got back from my hols i have been craving two things: kinder & kinnie. life is very nearly unbearable without them.

aaah, the creamy, milky lovlieness of kinder chocolate…. we do have kinder stuff in this country (predominantly the famous eggs complete with their choke-tastic diy toys) but not like they do there. it’s kinder madness. there are zillions of kinder products to choose from: cake bars, chocolate bars, cereal bars….


in writing this post i also found (and joined a kinder fanlisting – ‘milky on the inside’ 😆 – and this rather amusing article about the true identity of the, frankly, creepy kinder boy.


kinnie is to malta what irn bru is to scotland. only with a bit less tooth rot. kinnie is really pretty weird:

“a unique tasting, alcohol-free, natural, refreshing beverage. Its golden amber colour, and the fact that it is made from bitter oranges and a variety of aromatic herbs, lend this beverage a bitter taste which is an excellent thirst quencher”

and yet somehow i found it addictive. a quick google (ooh er) leads me to believe i’m not the only one. i wonder if i could get it on ebay?

Is that like vpl?

i’m currently in the middle of the more than a little laborious process of switching all my sites (i host about 10, including a couple of blogs) over to a vps. i’m looking forward to a future of nice tidy sites with no clunky forwarded urls –but if anything is likely to screw up in the moving it will be marilyn’s shampoo… i’ve found a few good tutorials but it’s a pretty daunting task so apologies if anything goes awry over the next wee while 😯 i’ll do my best to keep the place intact!

the wind up robot-maid (virtual server – geddit??) can be bought here

The morning of January 21st 1941- Captain Jack Harkness failed to report for duty

it’s coming…
you can see trailers here and here. you can also see a wierd, and more than a little disturbing clip at the beeb. it’s all very clever – you have to click on the screen then once you get a cursor type in 221006 (the date the first episode airs) cool huh?

(there’s also a site up for torchwood house which is worth a look, the password is ‘victoria’ for the ‘heavenly bodies’ section… and if you like that, you should also have a look at these)