Why is it in films that after a night of torrid sex and debauchery, the hero gets out of bed still wearing his boxer shorts? And why is it that the leading lady is so shy she has to wrap herself up in the bed sheet to run to the bathroom. Christ! hasn't the man seen every inch of her naked body already? So why bother covering up?
OK I know it's because of the film censors and that we're not supposed to see ladies front bottoms and mens dangly bits on 12a rated films but it really takes away the reality factor.
I saw "the day after tomorrow" yesterday. A good film but.... How come after telling his son that under no circumstances was he to go outside. The Father takes it upon himself to do exactly the opposite and walk god knows how many miles in the snow? What's he going to do when he get's there? Actually he does nothing in the film he just gets there and then they all have to be rescued by helicopter. Pointless.
And how come when they are trying to save as many people as possible they see fit toi send a politician on one of the helicopters to give the hero a big hug thus taking up a valuable space in said helicopter for a potential rescue victim.
And while we're at it how come at the beginning of the film the pilot of a helicoper was frozen just sticking his head out the door and the young hero's managed to run half a mile while everything was freezing up solid and windows shattering with cold around them. How come they didn't freeze at the same rate?
And how come when they were supposed to be keeping warm they built a fire in the biggest room? And how come when they'd built the fire they also built a wall of books in front of the fire to block of the radiant heat from themselves. And why did the telephone still work when it was completely submerged under water? And how did a ship manage to navigate itself without crew through the streets of manhattan?
And how come when the Library was full of starving people no one thought to raid the cafeteria before?
And how come when all the roads were blocked and nothing was moving suddenly someone turned up at the hospital in an ambulance? To pick up the doctor and her patient a small child with leukemia or something?
Oh yeah what's a smallchild with leukemia got to do with the plot anyway?
SO Roger Spottiswoode next time you make a film maybe you'd like to consult me first. I'm available as a consultant at very reasonable rates.

So I'm in the mood now. So this week I'm going to be a fascist dictator and make a unilateral desicion to not have a vote. Last week you voted for the sheep story so this week we're going to have the sequel. Picnic.

Now you can possibly vote anyway and try and overthrow my decision, after all we are in a deomcracy here. But I will warn you I have the bit between my teeth today. You'll have to come up with something special to make me change my mind on this one.

So I'm in the shopping centre and my clothes are in tatters and my shoes worn beyond belief and I think maybe I'll get some new shoes. I boldly walk into the shoe shop, I walk up toi the mens section and am immediately confronted by a wall of shoes all shapes and sizes and prices. I start out in a cold sweat my breathing becomes rapid I'm having a panic attack. I can't do this today. I turn and with growing relief I run out the shop. I walk into a clothes shop, maybe buy myself a new shirt. The same thing happens. So no new clothes this week. Probably not next week or next month. I can walk into a music shop and spend £500 on a new guitar but buying clothes. Eeeek I can't remember the last time I bought new clothes. I don't particularly like new clothes.
My darling Helene bought me a new jumper once, it took me six months to get used to the idea of wearing it. I still have a jumper bought by my mother last christmas unworn and still in it's bag.
I buy new jeans occasionally. But then I know exactly what I want. So I take a deep breath run in and grab two pairs of exactly the same jeans I always wear exactly the same size and run to the till before ther panic sets in. If I have to think about it I'm lost. I was with someone once and she said "Aren't you going to try them on first?"
"No."
"But that's half the fun. Trying on new clothes."
"FUN? That's not fun it's torture. I've got to get out of here quick."
"You're hopeless."
"I know."

Sundays shopping trip was a result of Saturday night when this certain young girl decided that she wouldn't be seen dead with me wearing the same old clothes anymore. Bless her she was trying to help me choose. So while she's still standing there saying stuff like "I think this would suit you........... mikel? MIKEL!" I'm gone. I'm finding MP3 digital recorders a lot more fascinating.
Finally in desperation I make a run for the car. "I can't do this today. Don't make me look at anymore clothes ."

iPod now playing - Handbags and Gladrags by the Stereophonics