Thursday, December 04, 2008

Never rape a man with oblong eyes

I was going to call this little discourse “Bellender”, but, for reasons that will not become clear, I found the alternative far more appealing.

I am not too proud to admit to my weaknesses. There are those who consider that frittering 65 hours every week watching detective/police/mystery/spy series on TV to be a waste of time. Indeed, there are some extremists such as my dear friend Richard, who has so taken against the intrusion of the Murdoch Evil Empire into our society that not only has he refused to subscribe to Sky, but has turned his television into a hothouse for growing antirrhinums. I have an answer to these critics (should they wander in here). I have thought deeply and considerately about this, and decided that they can all “fuck off”.

I was intrigued to see what was special about “Wallander” that could cause Kenneth Branagh to indulge in a bit of television drama. I have watched the first episode, and my pondering remains unanswered. It was fairly average – there was little therein to which I could take exception, even the presence of Wossname Warner taking himself a little too seriously, and I wonder why it is necessary for the sexual abuse of children to be a constituent part of every detective drama. The producers indulged themselves by making reference to Sweden in the opening minutes, and there was some nice music. I suspect that the music was not Swedish. As you know, nothing of any quality musically has come from Sweden since old Bernie Crusell added the last augmented sixth to his final clarinet concerto. Sorry, Dave, I know that you enjoy headbanging round your new greenhouse to “Soilwork”, but they are hardly up to the standard of the Beverly Sisters, are they? I usually enjoy watching Branagh, even when he performs so well that I find myself observing his acting rather than the film or play that he is in, but dunno, so far, why he chose to do this.

I still watch “Spooks” too, even though the plot has more leaks than an MI5 memo, and the acting is as hammy as a ham and tomato sandwich without the tomato. And the bread. I got into trouble for saying that Spooks had its name changed to “MI5” in the USA because the television companies thought that the audience were too stupid to understand the original name. Some folks of an American persuasion thought that I was saying that they were too stupid. That was really dumb of them, wasn’t it?

I have, however, learnt that anything associated with Lynda La Plante is not worth watching. I will use that in evidence when I reach the slightly tarnished side gate next to the pearly ones. Please feel free to wrestle the remote control device out of my hands if you hear me say “Maybe I’ll give her one more chance”.


I am also pleased to announce the completion of the annual festive card. You will hear me kicking my printer this weekend as I fail to understand why Hewlett Packard, who have been in the business since Charles Babbage was in nappies, can’t make a sodding printer that selects one sheet of paper/card at a time, every time.
If you received a card last year, and have not had the foresight to relocate, then this year’s production will be on its way to you soon.
If you did not receive one and would like to (don’t pretend that you have standards, you’re here, aren’t you?), send your address in an email to me. You can see the email address on my profile.


J. Patrick Boyle said...

I expect that this was one of the "1000 less interesting things to do" of which you spoke so fondly. Sod it, Bronte can lick my balls, all three of them, at the same time, now there's a fantasy only VR can satisfy. Glad to see you have taken the life advice on board so whole heartedly.

J. Patrick Boyle said...

Wait, that last comment made it sound like I have three balls, whichl I did until Emily got a bit feisty. I meant the sisters dammit. End of.

Vicus Scurra said...

Joe - You are much too quick. I hadn't even time to tell you about the honour I had invested on you.
Everyone else - you will never understand.
Donn. You have a competitor in the obscure comments department.

MJ said...

I'd like a card so that I might have your handwriting analyzed.

Vicus Scurra said...

MJ, you daft tart, I have so many friends that my cards are all printed. If I were to sign them all then it would take until 4 o'clock.

MJ said...

I suppose it's enough to ask that you're spending a small fortune on international postage.

Knowing you have personally licked the envelope will be enough of a thrill for me.

J. Patrick Boyle said...

He employs someone to do that for him, okay it's degrading work but you should try BHS, you'd take anything after that.

Donn Coppens said...

"nothing of any quality musically has come from Sweden?

You and your Acker Bilkian snobs have crossed the line. As you are well aware 1/4 of my DNA escaped from Sweden only two generations ago and I felt it necessary to immediately email the following Swedish musicians; Björn Afzelius, Peter Nuottaniemi, Chips Kiesbye, Ulf Dageby, Timo Räisänen and Gunnar Ljungstedt, household names all, whom I might add, have not only thrilled the hoi polloi of my ancestral homeland, but still know how to throw on a hauberk, funny helmet with horns, and wield a really big nasty scary heavy sword.

Good Day to you Sir.

Vicus Scurra said...

MJ. I suspect that "licked the envelope" is some sort of appalling Canadian euphemism.
MJ. When my friend Joe says "BHS", he is referring to a department store called "British Home Stores". They do not sell homes.
Joe. Be very careful with MJ. She is a filthy bugger, and her utterances are unsuitable for you, at least until you have passed through puberty. And yes, she would take anything after BHS, but before and during it as well, the dirty cow.
Donn! Donn! Donn! They might have chopped off your knackers, but they have left your laughter muscles undamaged. (Although Mrs Escapeons has been known to be amused by your former dangly bits.) My Swedish ancestors introduced the first branch of Ikea into the UK. It was used as a torture for Celtic warriors. They had to spend every weekend afternoon following their wives round a collection of Bronze age artefacts which were of no use to anyone. So, you don't scare me with your bragging about swords. Beat my greaves with a halberd rather than a "final reduction" sale anyday.

garfer said...

I have a feeling that you intend to send your more irksome commenters festive letter bombs containing nails and those little metal thingies people used to put on the heels of shoes so they would last longer.

I will consequently be withholding my address.

MJ said...

Hello Joe.

Geoff said...

We've recorded Wallander assuming it was the life story of the tennis great. We shall delete it from the hard drive immediately.

We do covet our Prime Suspect box set, however.

We have not moved since last year and look forward to your ray of sunshine plopping on our welcome mat.

Dave said...

How odd. I was going to use the phrase 'ray of sunshine' too.

I shan't now.

KAZ said...

Do you watch 'Life'?

Julian Meteor said...

GREAT post!!!! That is the MOST I have EVER read in one sitting.
You are DEFO better than Ally Ross. He is c.r.u.d.

Richard said...

Oh FFS, I see Meteor's over here too. Ignore him.

Isn't Wallander like Van der Valk without the canals and Edam?

And I've got up to page 9 of Middlemarch. I've read far too many crime books this year and am having trouble working out who's been cut up.

Rol said...

I love it when you make a really obvious spelling error... oh hang on, I do hope it wasn't a pun.

I don't want a Christmas card, thanks, not that I expected one.

Anonymous said...

Your readership (that Manitoban chap) seems to be slipping: all this Swedish chit-chat and not once the "A" word.Yes!There IS a god!
(And I think La Plante might have found "Widows" a hard act to follow.)