Tags: kingdom hospital


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Need we say it was not love,
Now that love is perished?

There's something very wrong about being able to see your breath when you're inside the house. It's unnatural and I'm still not really used to it. This is my third winter - I think - and I'm still floored by how cold it gets. (And yet: we're coming up toward the end of winter now, and for all this cold did I get any snow? Nada.)

Last night we had a Simon Pegg marathon of sorts, watching the commentary on Hot Fuzz and then the first season of Spaced with Sena, Peter, and Sequoia. The living room floor is still covered in half full junk food packets, which means I'll have a nice healthy breakfast this morning. I'm thinking coke and cake myself.

Today Alison and I have to finish watching the very weird Riget, which is a Danish mini-series set in a hospital where creepy stuff goes on. (We got this one out after watching Kingdom Hospital, the American - and fantastic - remake.) Anyway, Riget is getting more and more disturbing as it reaches the end, including giving me the image I could have gone the rest of my life without: a woman giving birth and a grown man's head bursting forth and screaming. Yes. That ones not going to leave me any time soon.

And then this afternoon back to Alice's to return this and probably get Kingdom Hospital out again. Because, oh god, it was so great. Hilarious. With singing and dancing doctors, a magical sarcastic and pun-making anteater, Mr Bennet, and a sexy sexy sexy undead spirit of eeeevil.

Mmmmm, sexy evil.