K. (infinitemonkeys) wrote,
K.
infinitemonkeys

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I am off work for a week and my appointments book is a howling Gobi desert of nothingness. OTOH, I am within a gnat's bollocks of finishing all outstanding postal endeavours. Go me.

You're surprised, I know, that a social butterfly like myself has allowed this outings-related misfortune to happen but I said to my celebrity mates, I said, "Elton, you know I love you and mypartnerDavidFurnish, but I cannot possibly go out AGAIN with you and George Michael, George Clooney, Carol Vorderman and that sulky wee ginger mooseface from Girls Aloud. Apart from anything else, Carol keeps insisting on splitting the champagne bill using pi to 10 decimal places and it's getting on my tits."

Elton was taken aback by this and vouchsafed that George Clooney would be very disappointed that I would not be doing my famous David Blunkett-inspired booty shuffle -- not to mention a small amount of tasteful frugging -- on the dancefloor at Annabel's this week, as he had planned to invite me to his booooooodwahr afterwards.

"Bollocks to that," I opined. "Goddammit Elton, I need my space! And tell George Clooney that there are places you just don't smear Butterscotch Angel Delight, no matter how much someone asks; it's not sanitary."

Now Elton was taken aback by this, but he accepted my desire for just one quiet week -- and also my pressing need to tazer Victoria "Posh Spice" Beckham until she actually eats something (I think that might be the teensiest bit illegal but we celebs can get away with anything).

Anyway, I shuffled off to the 2pm "no damned kiddies" showing of Harry Potter and the Suitcase Full of Wonga, along with the other unemployables, skivers and strange old dirty mac men who have a bad cough, scabies and inappropriate thoughts with regard to Emma Watson.

I enjoyed it. Bravo Mike Newell. Good solid entry into movie canon there. But while they kept the superior art direction of the Alfonso Cuaron view of Hogwarts what I missed were the grace notes of PoA. The whomping willow killing birds, the wizard Ian Brown stirring his tea by magic, the boys eating the sweets in their bedroom. GoF was fun and genuinely moving in places but not the same.

Tomorrow, a chick flick, I reckon.

Also, I am thinking of making a calendar, entitled "When bad things happen to good zombies" The undead need self-help books too.
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