Prime Suspect? Prime Indeed!

Okay folks.

Here’s the deal.

I love Helen Mirren.

Well, I love DCI Jane Tennison, but it’s really all one, right?

Yesterday I worked only in the morning, and then headed home thinking I would lounge around a bit, before giving my house a very much needed deep clean.

I put on the fire, wrapped myself in a blanket, and then turned on Netflix, eager to watch a movie, or a couple episodes of a TV show before getting out the rubber gloves.

What I really wanted to put on was “Call the Midwife” but seeing as though that’s the show that Marc and I are currently watching together, I felt bad about skipping ahead without him by my side.

Surfing through the selection, I came across Prime Suspect, and paused.


I’d been seeing this show pop up now and then in our recommended feed, and I thought it best to finally give it a try.

Boy am I glad that I ever did – it’s SUCH a fantastic show.

What’s even more incredible, is that despite the fact that it was filmed in 1991, it really doesn’t feel at all dated.

Sure the haircuts, and fashion styles may be a little Duran Duran, but the writing, acting, and direction is so great that one can’t really care about such trivial things.

Plus, Helen Mirren.



DCI Tennison is such an epic badass, in all areas for sure, but especially in how she deals with the ingrained, institutionalized sexism of the Metropolitan Police Force.

What makes this show so special is that it offers zero apologies for Tennison and why she is the way she is. Nothing fazes her, and every time we think that she’s going to capitulate to the male hegemony of her work force, she totally bucks our expectations (and in the process, forces us to examine why we even have those expectations in the first place.)

This, in my opinion is one of the best, and most important aspects of the show.

Further, so many other shows about a “strong solo female detective” would have caved and would have included the requisite “tough lady finally breaks down and cries to show her real femininity” or some other inane and disappointing scene, but instead, through it all, despite her ups and downs, and trials both inside and outside of work, Tennison just powers right through.

Just watch any scene with her Director Superintendent where she literally plows right through him, finishing her sentences when he tries to interrupt her, or talks over him when he tries to bully her (despite him knowing full well that she is, in fact, in the right, and he, in the wrong.)

It’s is just so, so awesome.

I cannot wait to quit my life and just spend the next little while watching all the other seasons and TV movies that spun off from the original series’ run.

(I might only be a little bit joking here. If you haven’t heard from me in a week, phone the police. PHONE DCI TENNISON AND TELL HER I WANT TO BE HER FRIEND.)

Laugh it up! Laugh it up fuzzball!


First things first –

I am internet famous (kind of!)

Just check out this bio on little ol’ me over at the comedy festival’s website.


And in the immortal words of Rod Stewart: Tonight’s the night!

(Only, you know, without all the sexual stuff.)

Now, excuse me while I jump up and down like the excitable jumping thing that I am.

Friday Fry-up time!

Well that’s offensive.

I was buying my sister a birthday card the other day in Hallmark when I espied these:



First of all, let’s get one thing straight.

Porn is porn is porn.

por·nog·ra·phy /pôrˈnägrəfē/ Noun

Printed or visual material containing the explicit description or display of sexual organs or activity.

This whole idea that women somehow get off on seeing dudes BUY FLOWERS or WIPE A BABY’S BUM is so unbelievably offensive TO BOTH WOMEN AND MEN that it makes me head spin.

Oh yeah…seeing that guy ACT LIKE A HUMAN BEING makes me so hot…I mean, holy crap – a man COOKING!? AND CLEANING TOO?! HOW SEXY IS THAT!?

I need a cold shower just thinking about it!

Like, cuz, those things are normally just for the womenz to do, RIGHT PEEPS?



Just no.

American beauty?

Are you dudes watching House of Cards?

Here are ye olde House of Mad, we are big Netflix connoisseurs and as such we’ve recently started watching this program.

It’s a show that was actually made for Netflix, which is pretty darn cool in and out of itself. I imagine that as viewership of traditional cable continues to drop, more shows will go the way of the live-streaming route.

(Allowing viewers to binge-watch at their leisure.)

Anyway, back to the show. Am I the only person who thinks that Mr. Spacey is a bit of a psychopath? I mean, the dude comes across as creepy as heck.

Also, I never thought I would hate someone as much as Walter White (Breaking Bad), but Francis Underwood is giving him a pretty good run for his money.

And that’s saying quite a bit.

But don’t let that detour you – if you have access to this show do check it out. It’s a pretty good glimpse into how morally bankrupt and incestuous our political systems truly are, not to mention how we’ll probably never know 99.9 per cent of the machinations that take place behind the capital’s closed doors.

Looking at what these horrible (fictional) people do, that gives me one good case of the shivers.

Sister, sister.

Today is my beauty cat of a little sister’s birthday!

She is a firecracker, a butt-kicker, an amazing chef, and a lass who can rock a vintage dress like no other.

I wish so very much that I could be with her today to celebrate this auspicious occasion, but as I cannot, I send her all my biggest and best birthday wishes.

Also, we are very good looking when we hang out together:


Like, the most.

So there you have it my darlings!

I will let you all know how the show goes tonight.

And in return, I’d love to hear how everything is going for you all, wherever in the world that may be.