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Writing things so you don't have to
The name’s Bond. James Bond.
“The distance between insanity and genius is measured only by success.”
This time, it’s personal. Like last time, and some of the other times, but a bit more so.
In this week’s episode of “Women Drivers,” Kara almost drives a plane into a big rock while Bond is in the back, heroically deactivating a bomb he armed in the first place
I was quite ready to say goodbye to Roger Moore, but I would not be allowed to do so before being subjected to another pointless skiing scene.
The “end of the beginning,” if you will, sees Bond escape in a small plane that was hidden under a false horse’s arse in a false horsebox. Most ingenious, I’m sure you will agree.
In which Q briefly becomes a priest for some reason, and just for a change, there are sharks and skis.
BANG! Blood dribbles down. We’re on a submarine. Two sailors sit down and have a game of chess. Then the cups start wobbling, and then a man who used to be in ‘The Onedin Line,’ comes in and goes “Why are the cups wobbling? What’s going on?” And then he pulls down the periscope and he looks through it and goes, “Oh my God, the submarine’s being eaten by a giant tanker!” And then we cut to Moscow. And there’s a man there, and he’s Russian; he’s got eyebrows, you know. And he’s on the phone going, “What, a whole submarine? You’re joking! I’m gonna have to tell some other Russians. See ya!”
Colm Currie 