shinytoaster: (Orihime Bean Cake)
Four glorious days off work. Lalala.

I just watched Doctor Gillian McQuack* with a glass of wine. There's nothing more thrilling than gorging yourself whilst she ticks off some poor sod whose only crime was to go a bit bonkers with the old chicken shawarma. I kind of hope that one day, she stops me in the street with a burger and asks me to do a vox pop about how disgusting my diet clearly is. Then I will eat my burger in her face and when I'm done, I will say: 'Piss off and die under a pile of saturated fat you misery-loving fraudulent bitch.' HER DEGREES ARE FAKE! FAKE I SAY! WHY DOES THIS COUNTRY WORSHIP HER?

Apparently, every day McDonalds serves two million meals in the UK. Now, given the population of Britain is approximately 60 million, that means that in an average month, McDonalds serves the entire population of my country. This means that some greedy fat bastard has been eating my burger.
shinytoaster: (Fucking Squirrel)
The front page of this week's Closer reads 'Why I left my toddler for a 16 year old boy.' Which I think, bluntly, tells you most of what you need to know about Britain in the middle of the Noughties.

This leads me in a vague way on to The Amazing Mrs Pritchard, which I watched last night and has subsequently been ripped to shreds by every critic in the land. I will say I actually quite enjoyed it on a funny level (funny ha-ha) but its faults were truly manifold and whilst an enjoyable hour's romp, I will add that it was also supremely patronising. It seriously asked the audience to accept that a hard-nosed Thatcher-worshipping flaming Tory harridan who was clearly modelled on Justine Greening would defect to Jane Horrocks' maverick Purple Alliance just because she loaned her a fucking tampon.

And with all due respect to feminists everywhere, how come every drama that portrays strong women in a positive light has to by default portray men as feeble-minded, penis-lead little boys? there is such a thing as balance and this show lacked it in buckets. It's disrespectful to everyone.

This could have been such a good little drama about a maverick, unsung, inexperienced female politician coming up through the ranks to form a credible new party and enjoying moderate success at an election, but instead the Tristrams in charge had to go all out and blow the budget on a landslide New Labour defeat that was accomplished in an hour's screen time, with no back-story, disjointed scenes, grossly over-accelerated passage of time and precious little plot. It would have been funny, it would have been watchable.

Never mind, I like Jane Horrocks and next week they appear to have Jan Ravens playing the Queen, so I may watch it again.

This morning, I am told that is redirecting to UKIP...

December 2011

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