McSis would sit there in stitches: every time she watched a film, she saw the telegraph wires in the drama set in the stone age, the Edwardian double yellow lines or the microphone bobbing up and down in scene after scene, top left hand corner. She would chortle through the most serious films at the parallel text of silly mistakes.
Yesterday I went to see Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, which is a really enjoyable film (casting done from a Pantone chart: grey complexions). But in one scene a tea tray is brought in , and the milk bottle is definitely the contemporary shape rather then the correct vintage, and it worried me for the rest of the film.
Funnily enough, the best actor is actually Benedict Cumberbatch, closely followed by D'Arcy (oops!) who acts with his dimples. Gary Oldman seemed to be playing Alec Guinness, rather than George Smiley.
But maybe that's just me being fussy.
I roadied Martin to Wales and back on Saturday/Sunday, where he played at a wedding in a teepee; it was very jolly and even the older chaps who didn't know his music ended up dancing and hollerin'. On the way over I texted a colleague and the iPhone, which I must say has turned into a complete bully, autocorrected the word 'roadying' to 'toadying'.
iPhone, I have a bucket of water beside me, and if you don't start being-have immediately, you are in for a good ducking!
Tonight Nat the Hammer presents another of his nights at the Boogaloo in Highgate, featuring Sergeant Buzfuz amongst others. The featured artist is David Bowie, and I am off to learn The Laughing Gnome as we speak.