Of Oxford Street and disaster movies

I made an emergency trip to Oxford Street on Saturday morning, to find an outfit for the office Christmas party which is this Friday. After 3 hours worth of serious shopping I managed to find something suitable.

But I was knackered when I came home that I fell asleep on my bed with the light on, the blinds open and my music playing full volume.

Shopping is hard work.

After I'd woken up, I watched 'The Day After Tomorrow'. There is something oddly comforting about disaster films, in that you can always tell (with the exception of Mr Heston in Earthquake, not that I cared. Guns don't kill people, my arse.) who is going to live and who will not make it to the end credits. Take Day After Tomorrow;

Homeless Man With Dog.....

Live! (It was the dog that swung it, they always survive)

Main Character's Sidekick who has been his loyal companion for over 20 years.....

Death! (Should've been less loyal)

Anyone with a handicap or disease that looks like they won't make it......

Live! (Only the disaster claims victims, not cancer/septaecemia etc)

Anyone who does not listen to the hero's heartfelt pleas to listen to him....

Death! (Are you mad?!?! He's the hero, listen to him for God's sake!)

One thing which did freak me out with Day After Tomorrow was when Emmy Rossum's characterhas a fever. The librarian uses a book to determine from her symptoms are caused by blood poisioning.

"That's septaecemia!" She declares triumphantly.

Easy love, this is not a cause for celebration. Far too excited about one of her comrades against adversity having a potentially life threatening illness. Weirdo.