* I think Magni should come home. I don’t like the company he’s keeping.
* In the last episode, the show’s producers sent in vipers in the form of ‘journalists’ whose main purpose is clearly to poison all the contestants against each other, so we the voyeuristic public can see some scandalous footage. Then they act all appalled when people start stabbing each other in the back. Hypocrites.
* Somebody should send in a gigolo so that miserable Storm Last [oops – I meant to write Large… Freudian slip!]… so that miserable Storm Large can get laid.
If that miserable Storm Large gets laid maybe she’ll stop jumping Magni by the poolside, straddling him, and thrusting her tits into his face.
* … Or hanging around him every spare minute. Or running after him, panting.
* I feel seriously sorry for Magni’s girlfriend. Seriously seriously. In fact, I am deeply concerned. I mean, if the only communication I had with my man was through watching him on television, and every time I watched him on television I saw that miserable Storm Large running after him and thrusting her tits into his face, I think I would seriously lose it. Only I couldn’t lose it to his face because he would be caught up in some weird psychotic television reality show and could very well be screwing that miserable Storm Large every night for all I knew and might well have changed irrevocably so I wouldn’t even know him when he came home. What a wretched situation.
* I think he keeps landing in the bottom three now [two weeks in a row] because the show has been moved back an hour so that means it finishes at 3am here in Niceland and people just can’t stay up that late to vote. [But boy did he kick ass with that Jimi Hendrix’s Fire!]
* I think the most apt description I’ve heard of anybody in a long time was when a reviewer in Morgunblaðið called Ryan Star ‘það smeðjulega illfygli’ which loosely translated means ‘that pandering villain’ – only slimier. I couldn’t watch the show last night without thinking of that and laughing every time I saw him. That said, he delivered a pretty good performance of his own song. I just can’t stand how he fawns and panders to those who hold his fate in their hands. And that iniquitous look in his eyes. Nauseating.
* What marketing genius created the ads for Kentucky Fried Chicken here in Iceland? KFC has been sponsoring Supernovarockstar, and amidst tantalizing footage of deep-fried breaded chicken pieces or ‘pork burgers’ [gross] being tossed around, the jingle ‘Nothing but a heartache every day!’ plays unrelentingly in the background. I mean – Hello!!
And a bunch of other things that I’m too tired to articulate right now. The weather was ok I think. I spent most of it cooped up, working. Managed a run before noon, though, at which time there was drizzle. But it cleared up. I think. Right now we have 11°C and sunrise happened at 05.45, sunset at 21.13. Forecast for light winds and some cloud and blahblah.