One's reviews

So yesterday I was trawling the web for reviews of The Grel Escape. Friends had told me there were some good ones in there (and they never lie, oh no) and indeed there were. One chap on Outpost Gallifrey (a Dr Who fan site) raved about me & said I stole the scenes I was in. Cue happy glow and inflated head. Unfortunately another chap on the same site (named Brick???) said I was crap. Or 'lacklustre' as he tactfully put it. Now I could have a good old rant about what an utter tosser he is, dispute his parentage and the size of his manhood etc but the trouble is that I can see his point. I wasn't aware of being wooden at the time but on listening to it on shiny CD I was troubled to hear myself coming across like a plank of 2x4. Maybe a certain amount of overacting is necessary for audio? He also said I was adenoidal - I feel I should point out that I was full of a stinking cold at the time of recording and the Vicks Sinex I had to compensate was bloody useless. Oh well.

Lately my friends and I have been obsessed with the film Xanadu and all the campness it entails. We now constantly refer to Olivia Newton John as 'That foreign bird with the big tits' (see Water Palaver, July 7th) and at a party in Durham at the weekend (hosted by the friend who made the now immortal gaffe) we watched her in all her glitzy glory accompanied by a doddery Gene Kelly on rollerskates. Fun. And imagine my moistness when in an 80's lyric quiz doing the rounds at work I spotted, "A place where nobody dared to go, the love that we came to know..." This film is permeating my life so much at the mo, it must be a sign. So everybody keep an eye out for a horse called Xanadu that I can put a bet on. Or failing that, a greyhound called 'Foreign bird with the big tits'.