Actors and Prostitutes

When I eat my lunch I often turn on the TV and sit down. As it happens, the programmes that are on around that time are the US court shows. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Yesterday there was a case with a couple who wanted to be compensated for vets' bills. The dog, about the size of a large rat, had been off its lead at nighttime and had been hit by a car trying to park in.....a parking spot.
But what had me transfixed about this case was the doggy pushchair. This was no jerry-rigged contraption, this was manufactured in hot pink. So the little mutt goes into the cage and gets pushed around by its 'mom and dad'. Some people have no shame.
And they lost their case.

I was excited to receive a copy of 'The Week' in the post yesterday. This is a magazine that prints 'the best of British and Foreign media'. Austen and Sue have been reading it for some time, and so does anyone else who goes to the loo in their house, so they have bought me a subscription for Christmas. Top pressie.

We watched the first episode in the second series of Rome last night. Caesar was killed at the end of the last series, you know, the whole 'beware the Ides of March' and 'et tu Brute' thing. There was to be a funeral and some public announcements, the young Octavius, who seems to have made a brilliant recovery after having his arm amputated in 'Master and Commander' has a mind like a steel trap and is 'managing' everything and everyone. He's the good guy who later becomes Caesar Augustus. Anyway, red herring. All were welcome to the proceedings except prostitutes and actors. I can't imagine why the prostitutes guild allowed them to get away with that.

Fortunately for us, since we missed it the first time, episode one of 'Little Mosque on the Prairie' was repeated. Canadian comedy can be very subtle, rather akin to British comedy.
A Muslim community living in a small prairie town are renting a church hall to hold services. The vicar at first doesn't know that this is going on, he thinks he has rented the hall to a business man as offices for his building firm.
A new Imam is on his way from Toronto, but is taken away by airport security for mentioning Allah in a cell phone conversation.
We laughed like drains from start to finish. It seems to be made by CBC so there is some hope we'll get to see the whole series.

A fortnight is half a lunar cycle, for some reason that struck me as being significant but I don't know why.
Here in Canada (I kind of assume) many people get paid fortnightly. And it seems to be irrespective of the type of job you do, so Kevin is a professional, in Britain he would be monthly paid, Laurence does manual labour, in Britain he would possibly be weekly paid, but both are paid fortnightly. This strikes me as far more sensible than the monthly system.

A marketing survey reveals that 59% of Québecois admit to being racist. Fancy that.