Feb. 16th, 2011

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A quick update of surpassing brevity.

I went to the cinematograph yesterday with a friend of surpassing tolerance in order to see "The King's Speech" which has been receiving rave reviews.  I hereby add my own rave.   It's brilliant.  Beautifully acted throughout and amazingly involving.   No shotguns, car-chases or sex scenes.. and still entirely magnificent.     The story of Albert, Duke of York (later King George VI) and his struggle against the crippling speech defect that hamstrung his public appearances.   Thoroughly thoroughly compelling.  Go see it.

Prior to going into the viewing chamber thing (I am not up on the parlance of such places) I was compelled to mingle in the outer area where tickets and overpriced comestibles were being purveyed.   My eyes were caught by a splendid pair of what the indelicate may call "legs" and I naturally glanced a little closer.    Finn is somewhat of a "leg man" (if any classification is required) and was intrigued to see who owned this remarkably shapely and well presented pair.   Alarmingly the upper body and face of the owner were undeniably and unattractively male.   The gentleman in question had a bad blonde wig, a muscle-shirt, brawny arms, a short red skirt, nice legs in black tights (pantyhose to any colonial readers) and red high-heeled shoes.   He was there with his girlfriend judging by the way they were interacting.      Good for him, says the tolerant liberal part of my socially conscious brain, and viva diversity.   But the older brain-stem male part of my brain is still running round in circles whining in alarm at momentarily ogling him.

Finally I am very grumpy with my face.   Not in the usual way, which the citalopram seems to be taking care of, but because I have developed a couple of patches of ridiculously dry and fragile skin beneath my eyes (the route along which a cartoonist would draw tears falling).   I found myself scratching these the other morning before I got out of bed and by the time I got downstairs to the bathrooom the bloody things were weeping blood which continued for most of the day on and off.   Not nice.  I may have to hand back my Mister Adonis (UK) sash if this goes on, and heaven knows what it will do to my career as a male model.

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