{ it makes such an almighty sound. }

[delga]

So, things that I was going to talk about in yesterday's aborted post but didn't:

I finished Baricco's Silk at lunchtime and basically guaranteed that the rest of the day was a wash. It's such a beautiful book - more like a series of haiku than a novel. The original Italian must be beautiful, too, but hey, I'm not literate in that language. (True story: had to remind myself of that today. Which -- who has to do that? Other than me. Obviously.) By the way, if ever there was a less appropriate place to read that book it's the office environment. The chapter of intense but casually-written erotica made me blush. AND I DON'T BLUSH. So, yeah. That was unexpected. But devastating, my gosh.

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Haha, I watched Torchwood. I'm not laughing because I find this shit hilarious in general because, well, I can have heart when called upon but STILL. Guys. THE END WAS RIDICULOUS. And fuck it, I laughed. As it turns out, I find homosexual romantic melodrama as yawnsome as I do heterosexual romantic melodrama. I was more distressed re: Clem. I can't help it. Show: you are much improved and much the same level of dumb. I miss you, Tosh.

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The great thing about not knowing when Mitchell & Webb actually airs is that I can choose to watch on a Friday evening or a Sunday morning. This week I'll be watching that, Mock the Week, and listening to Shappi Khorsandi's show on Radio4 which I only caught the beginning of when coming home last night. It's weird - I'd never heard of her before her stint on McIntyre's Roadshow, and now she seems to be everywhere. Of which I approve, natch.

Anyway, my not-point is that comedy is great, and British panel games are GREATER. Yeah. I said it.

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Hmmmm. I should go. Keep you fingers crossed I don't staple myself today. Oh, did I not mention? Did that TWICE yesterday. TWICE. WHAT.