Or, as it has become over the last few months, The Pile

Again with the Walker, but in the evening I just veg in front of the TV, or at least veg by the computer with the TV on. I’ve been trying to finish the MeFiSwap CD and put together the covers before realising that I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to finish them on account of my not having any double-sided sticky. Or if I do they are in a pile somewhere. Or, as it has become over the last few months, The Pile, since distinctions between different piles are starting to blur. That is something else that I have to address.

Anyway I listen through the comp and cut the covers out (since I started buying CDs in spindles I never seem to have any jewel boxes, so I just make card sleeves for things like this, like mini album sleeves). I also put off the actual burning of the CDs until tomorrow – I always want to tweak things, so that tends to be the last thing I do.

I manage to miss the karaoke, which can only be a blessing, but catch HIGNFY with Boris Johnson in charge. At one point he makes an impassioned speech about the return of the Tory party. The delivery is Woosterish, but the sentiment is pure Davros (I’m surprised that he doesn’t end up with “…and you will be ex-ter-min-at-ed!“). Merton does ask at one point how on earth someone that bumbling can edit a magazine. Well, quite.

Nothing overwhelming on Later (see how I’m being sucked back into habitual goggling). Moby, who seems like a decent enough chap, I suppose, but I don’t like is records very much. Dave Brubeck, who is incredibly old now. That’s a bit scary, because in my mind he’s perpetually the age he was in 1960. It’s a bit like that bit in Zardoz where they age John Alderton.

I lose patience with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Perhaps I will never understand the appeal. Perhaps the Buffy-heads, and the Trekkers and the Seinfeldians like myself will just have to be content with our own compulsive all-day viewing sessions and learn to live together in harmony, different but equal.

Stifled snort.

The story concerns some geeks turning her life into a sort of game, a rather clunky commentary on the whole fan thing. It appeared to be mocking the show’s own audience, but they can always distance themselves from it – “Oh, no, they were X-Files fans. We’re Buffy fans. It’s a different thing altogether.”