Trashy Telly

I think the best thing about being at home with absolutely f all to do, is being able to avail ones self to the wonderful array of rubbish television at ones disposal. Recently the wife took out a membership at one of those mail order video stores, the ones that, unlike the local DVD warehouse, don't need to ask you for 37 forms of ID and will let you join without needing proof that you have lived in the UK for over 56 years and that you earn over £700,000 a year (with all your bank account details provided, please). It's a fairly nifty little service if I dont say. I wonder if they could deliver me Jake Gyllenhaal all naked and wrapped up in a red bow? It is my birthday on Saturday, after all.

Well anyway, being a member of this royal mail funclub beats having to interact with the 2 dour faced Eastern European teenage girls at the local videorama. I mean, when they were handing out manners, I swear these two were way too cool to stand in line. That's my PC description of the situation. I could be inappropriate but I don't need you know how hideous I can really be. In fact the two of them are mangy old mules, even as teenagers.

So, the other day, a package comes from our lovely, handy little mail order shop, and imagine to our utter delight and surprise that within the sleeve, lurked one of the new millenniums most ingenious, well crafted cinematic masterpieces. A veritable tour de force of film noir.

I am referring, of course to the one and only Bennifer juggernaut, that was Gigli.

Now, what's on the telly? Oh look, a "Carry on" marathon followed by 2 days of "On the busses" Can't wait.