Cadaver - Day 8

Watch out - Bobby means business!

Cadaver - Day 7

Don't look so concerned, Bobby.

The Odd Couple

With lots of people still off work on holiday, and the final day of the school holidays being warm and dry, there was quite a crowd at the zoo.

They oohed and aahed over the tiger, who paced and posed before them, and crashed out in true cat style.








They smiled as they snapped the lions, especially when one rather large cub sat on the other, almost as if she were trying to mate with her, as their mother looked disapprovingly on.






But no one was taking much notice of the people most used to being the centre of attention, and having their pictures taken.

And trying not to be intrusive I only got some rather blurred shots. But there she was in her black furry hat with ear flaps, and there was he, his crinkly grey hair.

The odd couple.






Helena Bonham Carter and Tim Burton.

Cadaver - Day 6

Lucky pen!

Pain and Pleasure

Christmas dinner this year has turned out to be rather an expensive affair. I went down to my friend's to celebrate with her and her mother. We sat around the kitchen table on rather hard wooden chairs. I wriggled a bit, but didn't think anything of it till the next day, when my back was killing me. The sacro-iliac had locked. I've been trying to coax everything back to normal, but with no luck. My Christmas break has been pretty much a write-off. So today I phoned the osteopath, not expecting to get an appointment any time soon at this busy practice. But I was in luck, and at 10am I was in the treatment room with Habib, parading my pale flabby flesh so he could see where the problem lay. It turns out that, since my last visit six years ago (really?) they have introduced acupuncture into their repertoire. So this was me (only fatter):

A few pinpricks and a lot of painful clicks later, my mobility was improved, my bank account diminished by £30 (quite cheap for an osteopath, £40-£50 is more usual) and I came away armed with a further appointment for next week.

Meanwhile, one of the nation's favourite ad campaigns has reached new heights (depths?)

The car insurance comparison site GoCompare has been running ads for several years featuring a Welsh tenor singing the Go Compare song to the tune of the wartime song "Over There". They have now decided to set various celebs on the hapless man with ever more inventive deadly weapons.

But the latest has attracted the co-operation of one of the world's most eminent scientists.

Enjoy:

Cadaver - Day 5

One of those irresistibly handsome snaps of an irresistibly handsome man.

Cadaver - Day 4

Smile!

Cadaver - Day 3

It's that pose with the arms filling out the suit again...

School Sport

At school, I was really unsporty. Hockey in the freezing cold was only slightly less of a torture than the cross country running they made us do when it was too cold to play hockey. Purple and orange knees don't suit teenage girls. Netball and athletics in summer were OK if you could run, jump or aim a big ball. Swimming was fine if you could get out of the pool and make it to the toilets before puking up.

So when options became available, I went for it. Ice skating and horseriding were great, but I only made it on to those lists at 15. So I opted for diving. It took place at the National Sports Centre at Crystal Palace:

There was a dedicated diving pool (much warmer than the swimming pool), 10ft deep at the edges, 16ft in the middle.

I was already scared of heights, so I could just about jump from the 5m board, but couldn't dive from it. I limited myself to the 1m and 3m springboards. Pikes, backward and inward dives were as advanced as I got.

We had a tutor for these classes, whose name was George Rackham. We came to realise he was actually an Olympic diving coach. As a warm-up he had us shoot ourselves feet-first down to the bottom of the pool. We would have to lie first on one side, then on the other, and do pedalling motions that made us turn round like wheels in the water.

If there were due to be televised diving competitions later in the day, we helped them set up the cameras by diving down past the round underwater windows where the film crews were.

So if anyone catches me watching Tom Daley's new TV programme about diving that starts next week, it's purely to appreciate the diving, not his muscular young body.

(How the hell does he keep those swimming trunks up when he hits the water? I broke my bikini straps once diving in.)

I looked up George online the other day, and found that he wrote some books on diving that are still available.

What surprised me, however, was that he had also introduced another water sport to the UK:

I suppose our wheelie swimming was an elementary form of synchronised swimming. Never occurred to me till now.

George will be long gone now, but I remember him fondly, and I imagine everyone who had dealings with him will feel the same.

Cadaver - Day 2

How does a grown man in a responsible job manage to look like a naughty boy so often?

Cadaver - Day 1

I think you'll have to move that seat back, long legs.

Trophy Wine - Day 12

Wonder what he's thinking now the crime-solving's done?

Memories of Childhood

I can't imagine any of us grew up without watching at least one of Gerry Anderson's puppet shows - Captain Scarlet, Joe 90, to name but two.

But one of his shows is never mentioned, barely remembered, but a great favourite of mine. Meet Twizzle, the boy with the magic ratchety arms and legs:

He could miraculously stretch his legs and arms to reach things that started out beyond his little boy's reach, and I loved him. Farewell Gerry Anderson, you did us all proud.

Trophy Wine - Day 11

Don't bother lying to Bobby, he has your number. (If you have mine, darling, call it any time...)

Naughty, Naughty

I was just watching an episode of L&O LA, and at the start when they usually announce "adult themes" and such like, they said, "The following programme contains mild language".

What, like "goodness gracious"?

The only word in the whole programme that could qualify was "spic". Unpleasant and racist. And bleepable, like many other words they bleep and make nonsense of the dialogue.

But "mild language"? Every other word in the episode was mild. Unlike this comment:

What the fuck?

Trophy Wine - Day 10

Just look at that jaw. So strong and masculine.

Trophy Wine - Day 9

How can she sit like a stone next to himself?

Happy Christmas Everyone!

To all the dear friends to whom I tried so hard to send a Smilebox card, only to find the whole thing fell at the last fence,

Happy V-Christmas and many more of them

 

 

Trophy Wine - Day 8

Bobby applauds a terrible rendition of Juliet.

Forgotten Claim to Fame

Last week, a veteran British newscaster - one of BBC TV's first - died. And no matter where I looked in the obituaries, I couldn't find his (apparently uncredited) appearance in Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Am I the only person who remembers?

Trophy Wine - Day 7

Invasion of the Size 13s.

Trophy Wine - Day 6

Bobby enjoys the "nose". And we so often enjoy his.

Trophy Wine - Day 5

Not a happy bunny.

Trophy Wine - Day 4

Sorry, mind's gone blank, can't think of a single comment.

Trophy Wine - Day 3

Aha! The Size 13s make their appearance.

 I'm pretty sure either Vincent or the writers knew the heart-fluttering this scene would be for the Vixens.

Tragic Loss

About an hour ago I heard from Alex's mum that he died last night. After successfully fighting everything that could be thrown at him, he succombed to that fucking bastard norovirus.

Alex believed in a deity, and I hope for his sake that a kind god was waiting for him.

Alex Hunt, 12-5-93 to 19-12-12
Rest in peace, sweet boy

Trophy Wine - Day 2

I suppose he could get more handsome. Don't know how, though.

Trophy Wine - Day 1

Shoot me, Diane - but I think the psych session was the best part of this one - apart from the Size 13 sequence.

This is quite a pleasing shot, though.

One tragedy of many

I'm sure none of us thinks the gun lobby will really let there be any change in the gun laws in the US. After all, why shouldn't everyone have the right to own assault rifles and automatic weapons?

I must say that I don't agree with those who say this is the single most important thing for Obama to achieve in this period in office. What is the point is saving lives that will ultimately be lost to the earth being ravaged by global warming, something no politicians anywhere seem to want to deal with as the matter of urgency anyone can see whose only axe to grind is the future of the planet, rather than growth, consumption and making money.

What will be the point of all their money when there's no planet to spend it in? Even the children of the rich will be condemned to suffer with every other creature on the planet, and their parents will be sure to make it all happen sooner because of their self-seeking attempts to deny any of it is really happening.

Happy Christmas...

Last Street In Manhattan - Day 11

Sorry, ran out of posts without realising.

Thought I'd finish up this episode with Bobby with a shock of pink hair.

Last Street in Manhattan - Day 10

Forget Eames' dad, look at Bobby's pose!

Last Street In Manhattan - Day 9

Now Bobby looks angry. He needs a cuddle even more.

Last Street In Manhattan - Day 8

Bobby needs a hug.

Last Street In Manhattan - Day 7

Bobby agonises in his own inimitable way.

Last Street In Manhattan - Day 6

Bobby's looking a bit stern with Eames. What's the naughty girl done?

Mini Monster

Today I finally saw the new female tiger at London Zoo today. She's adorable - and really tiny!





Best thing about her was the look she gave to the hordes of child visitors. I felt the same way, Melati!

Last Street In Manhattan - Day 5

Don't you just love seeing those arms straining against the jacket sleeves?

Last Street In Manhattan- Day 4

So distinguished in his white shirt and tie.

So distinguished without them...

Last Street In Manhattan - Day 3

Bobby is auditioning for Mr Handsome Hunk 2011, 2012 and every year from now to eternity.

Last Street In Manhattan - Day 2

Mmmm. Not stunt claw but could be a stunt hand. The nails are a bit clipped, the thumb may not be curved enough, but the wrist looks right.

What does everyone else think?

Trapped!

The gas man was late this morning, shortly before 8am, because of bad traffic. I thought no more about it till I was on my way out of the house just after 11am to drive to the pet store to stock up on heavy supplies. He told me there was an accident down on the main road, and the traffic was backed up. So I drove the other way along the street, only to meet with a row of cars that had got stck after using my road as a "short cut". I turned round and went back home.

By 1.30 I was sure it must be all cleared up, and left the hosue again, only to witness car after car whizz past me, obviously still trying to find a way out of the jam. I went back in. Luckily I am not in dire need of these supplies. But it feels really horrible to be imprisoned in your street for such a long time.

I hate to think how bad things must have been for the poor souls involved in the accident.

Last Street In Manhattan - Day 1

Bobby doesn't look down on anyone - unless they are dead.

How...

...can a cat eat a whole dish of food with a pill hidden in the middle and finish every morsel except the pill?