Darling Fascist Bully Bitch

I'm a bit peeved that we get suckered into purchasing The Young Ones series again when it gets re-released in its Extra Stoopid jubilee edition when it really doesn't have all that much new to offer. Two audio commentaries, one for the pilot episode ("Demolition") and the series finale ("Summer Holiday") by producer and director, who spent more time reminiscing than going into too much detail about the actual episodes. And the featurette on the underground British comedy scene in the late 70's and early 80's would have been fascinating if it weren't presented in such a dull, lumbering manner more full of sound bites and 3-second clips of obviously rare stand-up footage that barely gave us a taste of what we were supposed to be appreciating. And they could only dig up Nigel Planner and Alexei Sayle? Where was Rik, Ade, and Christopher? Where was French and Saunders? Heck, where was the flippin' hamster, for Cliff's sake? Folks, if you already got the Every Stoopid Episode edition, you'll be alright as far as I'm concerned. Still, catching up with these episodes again reminds me of how long it really has been since I sat down and watched them, ever since I was the rabid fan that I was back in the 80's. Now I no longer know every line of dialogue by heart, or can name the episode title two seconds into it with my eyes closed. But dang, Motörhead is still The Shit.

And speaking of quoting British comedies, I'M NOT DEAD! I'M GETTING BETTER! Yes the nostricular angst is finally dissolving, and so far without a sign of Death Cough in sight. I feel as if I'm rising up from the sickbed a vaguely new woman. My eyes are clear. I just got about half my nasty tangled mass of hair cut off. And there are potential new creative projects on the horizon, if all pan out well. So, yay me, for a nice change of pace. G'wan, girl, it's ya birfday. Well no, Wednesday is my birthday. But technically the song says... oh heck, I'm putting too much thought into it.

Blemmy. I'm going to work.