I've switched on the comments section again. This could backfire horribly, namely with people not actually saying anything, just disappearing into the netherworlds of cyberspace again. I really need to stop setting up new blogs because they're spreading everywhere now with different purposes: the MySpace, where I post new music stuff, the Catch27, for ranting, and this one, for links and out of affection for the fact that the first LT was made in horribly bad coding when I was 18.

Anyway - the entire point of this post is to express absolute disbelief at the fact that Sue Lawley is to leave Desert Island Discs. As show excitement goes, it's probably lurking somewhere below Loose Ends and above Counterpoint, as regardless of who's on it, Lawley will command the programme in that calm, unflappable manner that manages to somehow sap the week's castaway of any vim they may have. Or maybe that's jsut an automatic response to being confronted with the Lawley, who knows.

Fairly enough, she says that after 18 years she quite fancies doing something else - can you imagine spending 18 years doing the same thing? I can't imagine 18 months. My last job was three months, and this is stretching to seven, so I'm hardly au fait with lengthy stints doing one thing. She did a good job, she doesn't want to do it anymore. Fair enough - Liv Tyler's opening a spa for god's sake.

Oooh, spa run by Sue Lawley. I bet that'd get a niche market - like Charlotte Green phone lines...

Fred Durst is making a film. My jaw is so heavily embedded in the ground I can hardly speak. "I want to make timeless movies"? As someone who had the painful misfortune of reviewing the 'Bizkit's Chocolate Starfish and the Hotdog Flavoured Water LP, I am quite willing to state on record that the only way Fred Durst could produce anything timeless is if you hid his metronome. Direction projects for the man have been announced on and off for the past five years (mostly by Durst himself) but seeing as this one's got an IMDB entry and everything, it stands a reasonable chance of actually being made. May God help us all.

The Shining single-handedly re-enacted by one overly keen boy. Awesome.

I've got a mini exam this afternoon which is annoyingly quite important to my not falling off the streets and into the gutter. If the streets are in fact the pavement. Anyway. My boss has cheered me up immensely with the encouraging words, "If you fail, you're retarded." It bought a tear to my eye, bless him.

My ex's MySpace account has had his profile, friends and songs wiped and replaced with something along the lines of "This song is gay". As if that didn't suck enough, I only looked at it after getting an email from said ex asking in very polite tones whether I'd deleted it. I know it's entirely shit to put personal things on blogs, but this was so rubbish I just don't care.

I'm clearly getting lame in my old age. I just downloaded Rent (why! That ending for god's sake!) and have watched the One Song Glory sequence about four times feeling like I'm about to burst into tears. Since my other viewing for the day has consisted of Narnia and Mr and Mrs Smith, you might figure a dose of the bad AIDS would up the ante on reality stakes, but no.

It's nothing to do with the ridiculously grainy picture or the hamminess of the bridges and all about the spare, cold guitar and the real sadness of the flashbacks posted over the top. Yes, it's cheesier than the fauxmesan omelette I just ate for supper, but it perfectly captures the reason why the character hides away from everything (his nasty ex-girlfriend junkified him AND gave him the bad AIDS - beats the crap out of holding onto your books now, doesn't it?) and more importantly it reminds you why musicals are so popular.

Whether you go to them to have a good laugh or a really crap attempt at getting up to speed with 19th century France, the good ones get inside your head and irritate the hell out of you. Or mean that you and your housemates stand around and bawl out Phantom when the gin has really taken hold. No judging y'hear?