Right, well. Enough of all that self-pitying rubbish. Good old Harry Hill buoyed me up, I'm getting nicely annoyed at the unneccesary hotness of the statistics woman on The Colour Of Money (I suppose I should just be grateful that there is a tiny element of logic included unlike DOND, although it's drowned out by the blaring discordant trombones of superstition and emotional manipulation). And here's something rather wonderful by Terry Saunders. I say wonderful - in fact, it made me miserable as all get out, but I imagine that was the desired effect. Well...miserable in a happy way. No - actually, just miserable. Hey ho.
I look forward to the next one, in the hope that it won't totally tip me over the edge. Fun times!