Such a lovely ending to tonight’s episode of The Bill: a whole year of false hopes later and a distraught father is finally reunited with his abducted tot - very much alive & well.

There’s nout wrong with a doom & gloom ending but this was almost reward for staying faithful to the programme; I love it when they trust fans’ dedication and don’t feel they have to hurry the story any. Makes it more realistic in many ways too.

And Neil Stuke shone yet again. Is there no end to this double hard bastard’s talent?

A wee visit to Atul K’s this morning to rectify his lack of Internet connection was unexpected, but a pleasant reunion all the same.

As well as the usual geekish talk that you’d expect of us (the gloss-finish of his Spider-Man 2 poster being a fine example), he said that he’d seen my idents on the Paramount Comedy channel, which is just wizard!

Also amusingly, he thought this was a condom packet - because of the words “slant tip” above the phallic outline.

In fairness, he did add: “I wasn’t sure as I didn’t think condoms needed sharpening.” Bless ‘im.

This, too, saw us laughing muchly.

I watched Four Rooms last night with Lisa. I’ve wanted to see it for years for the Rodriguez & Tarantino segments but it went on that long list (of Things to Maybe Do at Some Point in the Future if Time and Money Are Allowing and Nothing Else Takes Priority™) and didn’t get done. Although, evidently, it did get done - and now I’ve lost the list.

’twas ingenious anyhow. Tim Roth really camped it up, which entertained to no end. And all in all, the film was a masterpiece. I wasn’t too fond of the first segment, but it’d be far better if the ridiculous breath-of-fire was removed; that was just plain silly.

Today’s formative critique at Racodac for an animation project I’m working on went very well - unlike Monday’s for my elephant.co.uk (that’s elephant.co.uk) rebrand which… well, let’s not talk about that.

Huxley Pig!

Oooh!

Ah.

I am getting increasingly frustrated with having to wade through hundreds of Racodac emails intended for other people. If it’s for an individual person, email it to that one person instead of typing their name in the subject line and flooding it out to all.

And the same goes for sending me group-messages to groups I’m not in; if it’s “to all the first years” as the subject line suggests then send it to all the first years. FFS.

What makes this even worse is starting the body of the message with “sorry for the spam”. You’re not sorry. You’re just a lazy shit.

The next person that tells me to watch Family Guy is getting a slap. I’ve given the programme a fair try in the past and do not find it “sooo funny” as you’d all have me believe it to be. I cannot stand it. I don’t find it in any way amusing. In fact, it bores the hell out of me.

Yes, I know, I know - millions love it blah, blah, blah. But I don’t. And I don’t go around bullying others into watching The Bill do I? Exactly.

I’ve found myself hugely addicted to The Office: An American Workplace.

It took me a while to get into the UK/original series (which I now love and consider definitive) but the American ‘remake’ has a greater sense of longevity to it. And I *want* to see more & more.

It’s hard to explain, but I could watch it as if it were a soap opera. Only, I don’t like soaps. Oh, you know what I mean.

Like the true girlie that she is, me bird, Lisa couldn’t handle her chicken madras last night in our belated Valentine’s celebrations. But hey, what she didn’t finish I polished off this morning - so I’m not complaining.

I felt so guilty for being ill on the actual day - even though we’d planned (before I got ill) on celebrating last night anyway. But we had a really lovely night and watched the most romantic of films, Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer.

No, we didn’t watch that - don’t be silly. ’twas a perfect night though, laughs aplenty.