Thursday, July 21, 2005

My, my CSI

Settled down to watch "other people's TV" last night with my flatmate. It's the Quentin Tarantino episodes of CSI. My flatmate is addicted to it, but I'm a little baffled.

She sat there, eating ravioli and giggling as the cast picked through the shredded bits of bomb victim. "Oooh! I've found a thumb!" exclaimed a slightly giddy lady. This seemed to be A Good Thing.

I was just distracted by the fact that their chief lab technician appears to be Charlie from Busted, and the hero was a man with enormous arms who kept grinning innapropriately.

Then I realised - he's so stupid, he finds the size of his arms a constant source of amusement. Even when buried in a box, he kept grinning. He'd be struggling away, panicking, and then all of a sudden... "Why, shucks look at my guns!" he'd think, and away he'd go, chuckling like a Cornishman meeting a cousin.

"You'll love CSI Miama," my flatmate suggested. "It's a spin-off. They solve crimes, but with their shirts off."

What absolute nonsense, I thought. And rushed out to buy the DVD.

1 comment:

em said...

tsssssssssk - it was brilliant! And the sudden 'oh my god, we can't save him as we thought because actually it's wired to a load of bombs!' at the end - inspired, and *so* Tarantino.