Friday, February 10, 2006

Beware my brain

Hooray! The Olympic Games no one cares about begin today. I could watch the Winter Olympics until I atrophy; the downhill skiing alone keeps me in a happy glazed stupor for hours. And the one where you ski a while, then shoot stuff, warms the cockles of my heart because my family liked to ski and shoot stuff too. Then there's the hockey. Exciting stuff, but I'm still a little sad that the teams have been comprised of professional players for the past few Games. These guys already make millions in the NHL; they don't need the thrill of going to the Olympics as much as the amateur kids that the Games should still be about.

Ah, well. Hand me the hot chocolate.

Today's random gripe: the Steve Martin Pink Panther film. The reviews are in. If it ain't broke, don't make a bad film in tribute.

The same goes for any pop star who would make a cover record. If you can't do it better than the original or add something compellingly relevant, don't do it! Hello, Madonna, I'm looking at you. Take your American Pie and stuff it up your silly pink leotard. And never sample ABBA. They are the masters. You are so, so very not. They can also sing. And you...

Last night I had a dream from which I awoke in tears, but I don't remember what it was about. I think I might have cried because I lost a can opener.

Wow! This is Gill's pregnant brain before coffee. Oh dear.


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