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It’s Will’s birthday tomorrow, so last night we convened at the Dog House for drinks, chat and distraction from the telly above the bar that showed Kirsty’s Home Videos.

I’ve not been there in years but it used to be our regular below-the-street drinking home for a while when the mag had been temporarily moved out onto Wardour Street for renovations. Nothing had changed. The walls were still decorated in broken plates, the music was still loud, and I still couldn’t remember where the toilets were. I was convinced they were actually where the kitchen was.

I wonder if the name is a clever play on words, so when the husband doesn’t come home the wife can say he’s in the dog house…

Jay filled me in on all the goings on in the TV shows I don’t watch until he realised my knowledge of non-radio pop culture is close to non existent. In the end we settled on common ground - James Bond - and dissected the plotlines of every Brosnan and Dalton, eventually coming to the conclusion that there are actually only about half a dozen Bond stories, each of which is repeated again and again.

Plots

Mookraker = plot to wipe out life on earth and start again out in space. Features Jaws
The Spy Who Loved Me = plot to wipe out life on earth and start out again under the sea. Features Jaws

Diamonds are Forever = plot to give nuclear superiority to the highest-paying nation
Octopussy = plot to give Russia nuclear superiority so it can invade Europe
Die Another Day = plot to give North Korea tactical superiority

Dr No = plot to track American space ships and knock them out of space
The Spy Who Loved Me = plot to track British and American submarines and scoop them out of the water

The Man With the Golden Gun = (plotted) assassination of British agent
Living Daylights = assassination of a British agent

etc etc etc

Themes

Diamonds: Diamonds are Forever, Living Daylights, Die Another Day
Satellites / space: Die Another Day, Diamonds are Forever, Goldeneye, Moonraker, You Only Live Twice, Tomorrow Never Dies

etc etc etc

I didn’t stay exceptionally late. I didn’t fancy riding the last train home - the vomet comet - so caught the one before it and sat opposite a large woman in tweed reading a hardbacked book on pig farming.

This entry was posted on Sunday, March 16th, 2003 at 11:23 pm and is filed under Journal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.