To make up for Torchwood, this evening's audiovisual entertainment was Final Cut, the last episode in season 3 of Waking the Dead. I needed reminding that the BBC produces some utterly brilliant diamonds amongst the rest. And if I'm half as cool as Trevor Eve is when I'm that age, I'll be a happy man. A ranty happy man, but generally happy.

I had something else I was going to say, in a "What the fuck is wrong with people" kind of vein, but I've forgotten what it is. Probably relates to those bastards in the war zone that is the Marks and Spencer food hall ramming people with their trolleys. Old people shouldn't be allowed oxygen...