Monday, April 11, 2005


Well I don’t know – got absolutely blunted last week after swimming but still made it into work on time. Not bad, even if I did wake up on the sofa. Speaking of swimming, I think, if anything, that the outdoor pool at the Oasis centre is too hot, rather than too cool. If you’re ploughing up and down rather than just dicking about it makes all the difference. Plus it’s supposed to be one of London’s dirtiest pools, bacterially speaking, but I swallow over a pint a week and nothing bad has happened so far . . .


Speaking of swallowing and bad things I saw Maria Full of Grace on Thursday. I don’t of course mean that the film was bad, but about bad things happening to people. Some of the scenes were the most unsettling and sad I’ve seen since Lilja-4-Ever and the desperation, fear and helplessness of the mules is spectacularly well communicated throughout. Not exactly an enjoyable couple of hours, but a very rewarding and worthwhile one none the less.


So I didn’t have a good weekend really. Well actually it was fun in parts, but also quite upsetting. Had a blazing stand-up knock-down row with flatmate 1 which ended in a lot of door slamming by her, and me informing her, and by inference, anyone with ears in a 200 yard radius that as far as I was concerned she could ‘get fucked’ and then storming out of the flat. Haven’t lost my rag like that for years and years. I blame the drink.

Did end up having a nice walk through the park to calm down though, and of course everything is forgotten by now. Weird.

Dr Qui

Finally managed to see the new Dr Who and really enjoyed it, but I have a question. Why does the Tardis always arrive where some major big bad is going down? Is there some sort of trouble-o-sniffer circuit which has become jammed on? How come the Tardis never randomly deposits them at, say, 12th century Rhyl where nothing has happened, and nothing ever will happen, if you don’t count someone stealing Alleurhyd’s ladder in about 8 centuries. But that’s a minor niggle – it’s basically cool, and quite scary. On a much more terrifying note check out Colin Baker these days. Scary! But then he is 63 or something.

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