veal, Life on Mars, work

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I can't help it, I enjoy the taste of veal. Yes, I know it's the meat of forcibly emaciated baby cows, a fact my vegetarian friend reminds me everytime he sees me order it. To which I reply that I bet it would be even better if they raised the cow in space, where it could grow to be extra tender and soft. Perhaps in the near future vat-grown space-meat will be all the rage. And I will be there, fork and knife in hand.

Looking for a fun good-cop/bad-cop drama, set in 1970s Manchester, with a dash of Wizard of Oz? What makes Life on Mars so great is the banter between the two head cops. Ah, who am I kidding? Gene Hunt makes the show great.
Sam Tyler (describing Gene): ...overweight, over-the-hill, nicotine-stained, borderline alcoholic homophobe with a superiority complex and an unhealthy obsession with male bonding.
Gene Hunt: You make that sound like a bad thing.
It's only 16 episodes (8 first season, 8 second season), but they're an hour each so you need to take your time digesting them.

Another steamy hot day. You could say that I have been working happily away in my air-conditioned office, but you'd be wrong. Our a/c was on the fritz, giving the place a decidely tropical rainforest quality. A miserable-making miasma, more like it. Like I wasn't cranky enough with the lack of sleep from not being able to sleep yesterday. Why? No reason! Seriously, I don't know why I couldn't sleep.

Pushes my sanity, it does.

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