Russell survives to scheme another day on Survivor. Whip out that hidden immunity idol and wear it proud! How audacious. Of course, it was a poorly kept secret that he had it, so why not flaunt it? Monica did well at the end to get in some parting cracks at the big R, but she might have hauled out this unspoken nature earlier in the contest to keep herself in the game longer. Only two more episodes to go, I think they said.
I think fruit cake gets a bad rap. I even made one myself a few years ago when I was feeling nostalgic for the kind we used to have when I was a kid. My sister just sent me a supply to get me through the holidays, three different kinds (dark, light, and light without nuts). Yum.
Shades of Fried Green Tomatoes on C.S.I. last night. They managed to combine one of the occasional funny episodes with the lab rats getting out into society with the more serious plot of the killer who surgically alters people. The entire roadhouse story was hilarious, starting with the guy with the racoon stuck to his face. The Mentalist took a lighter tack this week, too. Not as uproarious as C.S.I. but witty.
I finished Crichton’s Pirate Latitudes last night. A fun book that starts out a bit like a caper of the Ocean’s Eleven variety, where the captain goes around to gather together a crew with the particular talents needed to pull off the gag. Then there’s the marine stage, the island invasion, the getaway, more marine battles, the requisite storm scenes and the reversal at the end. Not as serious or as intricate as some of his other works. It’s hard to guess exactly when it was written. It has the sure hand of his mid-career books but the frothiness of his med school books.
