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Life on Mars fans: if you want to get frustrated or have a laugh, have a gander at Mr Paul Heath’s article at The Hollywood News, which Google News says is a British site:
Imperioli will play Detective Ray Carling, a colleague of Sam’s in 1972. He is a rough, tough sexist who has never heard the phrase “politically correct.” The role was made famous by Phillip Glenister in the BBC original, where he played the character named Gene Hunt, now a huge cult figure in the UK.
What?
That’s right: according to this, Philip Glenister played Ray, or that Ray and Gene are the same character.
Unless he knows something the rest of us don’t. Which casts a whole new light on the plot.
I know not everyone in the UK has seen Life on Mars, but when rewriting someone else’s article, it may pay to not concoct new facts without checking.
It was an easy mistake to make (I originally assumed, before I read the first article about Mr Imperioli’s casting, that he was playing Gene Hunt), but one that could have been very easily avoided.
How long do you take in the shower?
Submitted by Strive2Be.
Gosh, I'm rather embarrassed now. I'm the person who posted this question, and I did so because my friend was SHOCKED at how long I took. Lol. He wanted to know *exactly* what I could possibly be doing in the shower....take him step by step. I thought he was being silly, but after reading the answers to this question.....wow, I must transform into a turtle or some such slow critter when the water hits me. I spend about an hour....yes, you heard me world....one whole hour....sixty minutes.....in the rectangle of spraying water. That includes wash/rinse hair, wash/rinse body (lol), and shaving BOTH my legs (don't forget that there are TWO of them), plus maybe a touch-up shave between................shhhhhhhhhh. AND....this doesn't even include getting into the song, "Good, good, good...good vibrations!" Lol. You really don't want to know how long I'm in the shower if I get that song into my head!! So......I'm a turtle......or a slug......or some primordial sludge. And then don't even get me into what I do AFTER the shower...lotion on the legs and (shhhhhhh area) so the skin doesn't dry out, clip the nails (and remember, we have finger AND toe nails! Lol), dry myself, pat my hair dry and then let it dry on its own after I've combed it, and get dressed. I also, at some point during all this time, am cleaning out the shower and drying it. And guess what, guess what?? I'm one of those people who doesn't use all those creams and lotions and make-up and gobbly gook. Can you imagine how long I'd be in the bathroom???? Just bodywash, shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, and lotion for the shaved areas. How come I feel like I'm on the witness stand, defending myself desperately so as not to received the death penalty?? *smile* I'll have to go into hyperactive speed next time and let you know the results. Probably shampoo in the eye, legs with hair still visible in areas, a nick in a sensitive spot, and a major slip getting out of the shower as my feet are still slimy with bodywash. Well...at least I can yell to the world...I'M UNIQUE!!!!! WooHoo!!!! Not so sure if I like this uniqueness, though. It's more like "Super freak, she's a super freak!" Lol.
(This joke posting cracks me up every time, even when I just happen to look at it and haven't read through it again. It's so silly! LOL)
An off-duty LAPD Captain assigned to Newton Division narrowly escaped serious injury recently when he attempted horseback riding with no prior experience. He mounted the horse, unassisted, and the horse immediately began moving. As it galloped along at a steady and rhythmic pace, the officer began to slip sideways from the saddle. Although attempting to grab for the horse's mane he could not get a firm grip. He then threw his arms around the horse's neck, but continued to slide down the side of the horse. The horse galloped along, seemingly oblivious to its slipping rider. Finally, losing his grip, the Captain attempted to leap away from the horse and throw himself to safety. His foot became entangled in the stirrup, and he was at the mercy of the horse's pounding hooves as his head and upper body repeatedly struck the ground. Moments away from unconsciousness and probable death, to his great fortune a Los Angeles County Sheriff's Deputy, at Wal-Mart on a shoplifting call, saw him and quickly unplugged the horse!
If I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t have had more than five birthday parties throughout childhood. That’s about how many it takes before the responsibility starts to outweigh the honor. Now don’t get me wrong, the first couple times were great—the birthday boy’s only duty was to celebrate good times--and leave the rest to Mom. But that’s before I learned how to talk. And write. All of a sudden I was turning six, and realizing that my annual celebration of life had become a burden. The decisions to make were now many (the theme? invitees? goodie bag contents? the thank-you notes—wearying; and the trick candles?) No longer surprising.
Having abstained from birthday hosting for the past decade, I was noticeably ambivalent when Mrs. Boss asked me to assist in planning DailyMe’s Launch party. She offered to share some of the responsibilities once she saw the look on my face, but it didn’t really matter. Because it was me who placed the first phone calls to the venue, the caterer, the cupcake store, cameraman, and virtually everyone else involved. If you have ever planned a party before, you know how this works: the guy who places the initial call to a party service becomes the “contact,” and it’s very difficult to transfer the role.
Now a couple weeks into the planning, the event is almost there. Not that the process hasn’t been without its headaches. To name one, the cupcake people! I don’t know about you, but I would have thought cupcake-makers formed a humble industry. But I guess that doesn’t hold for stores that deem themselves “cupcake designers;” they can be downright arrogant. Needless to say, I expect their product to be delicious.
Other than that, the party is coming along nicely, and I don’t really have any more complaints. Well, besides the fact that I wasn’t invited. Ironic, I know. I was so angry when I found out that I cursed the person who made the guest list…until I remembered that it was me. Turns out I would have been invited, only the venue is a club on South Beach that does not allow guests under 21 years of age. Very sad turn of events.
I don’t want to be a complete party pooper though; this party is going to be awesome. It’s on Saturday, August 2nd at 7:00 p.m. Fun guaranteed. Plus, you never know who’s going to hide inside the DailyMe cake to sneak past the bouncers…
Happy 4th of July everyone – Be safe!
Peace, Love, and Personalized Media,
- John the Intern
If I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t have had more than five birthday parties throughout childhood. That’s about how many it takes before the responsibility starts to outweigh the honor. Now don’t get me wrong, the first couple times were great—the birthday boy’s only duty was to celebrate good times--and leave the rest to Mom. But that’s before I learned how to talk. And write. All of a sudden I was turning six, and realizing that my annual celebration of life had become a burden. The decisions to make were now many (the theme? invitees? goodie bag contents? the thank-you notes—wearying; and the trick candles?) No longer surprising.
Having abstained from birthday hosting for the past decade, I was noticeably ambivalent when Mrs. Boss asked me to assist in planning DailyMe’s Launch party. She offered to share some of the responsibilities once she saw the look on my face, but it didn’t really matter. Because it was me who placed the first phone calls to the venue, the caterer, the cupcake store, cameraman, and virtually everyone else involved. If you have ever planned a party before, you know how this works: the guy who places the initial call to a party service becomes the “contact,” and it’s very difficult to transfer the role.
Now a couple weeks into the planning, the event is almost there. Not that the process hasn’t been without its headaches. To name one, the cupcake people! I don’t know about you, but I would have thought cupcake-makers formed a humble industry. But I guess that doesn’t hold for stores that deem themselves “cupcake designers;” they can be downright arrogant. Needless to say, I expect their product to be delicious.
Other than that, the party is coming along nicely, and I don’t really have any more complaints. Well, besides the fact that I wasn’t invited. Ironic, I know. I was so angry when I found out that I cursed the person who made the guest list…until I remembered that it was me. Turns out I would have been invited, only the venue is a club on South Beach that does not allow guests under 21 years of age. Very sad turn of events.
I don’t want to be a complete party pooper though; this party is going to be awesome. It’s on Saturday, August 2nd at 7:00 p.m. Fun guaranteed. Plus, you never know who’s going to hide inside the DailyMe cake to sneak past the bouncers…
Happy 4th of July everyone – Be safe!
Peace, Love, and Personalized Media,
- John the Intern
So, have you ever sat in the pleasant sun and felt the wisps of breeze as it touches your face, just so you don't have to sit in a stuffy home office to perform boring statistical analysis drudgery? Then you make a little trip into the kitchen to get a nice sweet glass of ice-cold juice to take back out with you to quinch your thirst while you wrestle with those infuriating numerals? Hmmm......your spreadsheet seems to have changed. Could the sun hitting the screen somehow have caused that? And what's this? Pinecone seeds on the keyboard?? And then, ever so slowly, you look back up at the spreadsheet.....and find it has been wiped clean of all your hard work....only to be replaced by coquettish little squirrels. You jump up and quickly look around for the jerk who dared to touch your laptop....only to be greeted by the twittering of little birds and the chattering of squirrels within the surrounding trees. As you peer through the trees and don't see nor hear anything that allows you to know that one of your pals is in hiding, playing a prank, your legs buckle a little and you sit back down by your pinecone-seed coated keyboard and listen to the continuous chattering of the squirrels around you. Could it be that we have allowed the animals too much access to our technology by taking our laptops with us to the beach, on camping trips, even into the backyard? As you look back up at the smiling and wiggling little girlish squirrels on your screen, you hear a voice in your head that you haven't heard since 2002: "The Truth Is Out There."
I don't know about you, but after a little adventure like this one having just been utilized on ME (because it's always the case that improbable events occur to ME! Lol), I'd be paddling so fast back to shore that you'd think I had a little motor hidden in my kayak. Just like when the movie "Jaws" first came out....do you dare return to the water?
Just one of the many unsavory duties of being a police officer.
"I see it! I saw it....ohhh, I see it!! I saw it. Eeks...I see it!!!!!! I saw it. Just you wait. I am going to catch you on one of these turns. I'll never wear out! I'm a CAT. We are born with patience and persistence. You can't stay back there forever. Ohhhhh...I see it!!!!!! Gosh darn it, I saw it. No, I see it, I see it................!"
