2 We watched the first few minutes of the 1973 movie No Sex Please, We're British. It was one of the movies- one of the better ones- that aimed to relieve and exploit societal unease about the sexual revolution by being frightfully cheeky. It is no longer funny (if it ever was.) It's always nice to see old stagers like Beryl Read and Arthur Lowe in action but a pity that the British film industry couldn't find them anything better to do.
3 There's an ad running on Brit TV that features Marcus Brigstocke embarrassing himself in a nudist camp- and there was I thinking jokes about nudist camps went out in the Seventies!
4 We caught the ad- oh so many times- in the commercial breaks between games in a tennis match featuring Juan Del Potro- who was being played- as usual- by Russell Crowe. Do advertisers think they endear themselves to us by banging us over the head with the same ad over and over again? They must do, I suppose, or they'd hold their hand.
5 By the way, I have no idea who or what the ad was for. Some finance company I think.
6 I'm writing this post in bite-sized portions because the cold I contracted last week is still plodding its weary way through my system- and I'm feeling drained. Kryon says that as we raise human consciouness so we will gradually outgrow all our diseases- apart from the common cold- which is not so much a disease as a programme we use to reboot ourselves.
7 I've just caught a glimpse of the Telegraph's actual front page. No nudes, just Donald Trump standing in line with members of the British royal family. One of the interesting things about No Sex Please We're British is that the makers chose to set the action (involving the comings and goings of a consignment of top-grade Swedish porn) in and against the architecture of Imperial Britain- specifically Windsor Castle and its environs. Cheeky, eh?
8 Isn't it fascinating how things fall into patterns?