Whoops...

I was in the gym today. Monday is 'chest' day (not that you'd bloody notice, even at this stage) and I was bench pressing two 20kg weights. Working to failure is not a good idea when failure occurs as your arms are up in the air, over your body. My left arm suddenly came down, too quickly for the guy that was spotting me, and the weight bounced off my stomach and hit the ground. It was the one time I was glad I'm still slightly thick around the waist. The one time. On the plus side, when I went to collect my bag from the changing room, Hot Foreign Guy was there getting changed, about to start his session as I was finishing mine. Nnnnnhhh!

I saw The Deer Hunter again on channel 4 last night. It was shown straight after the top 100 war films ever, some of which it was good to be reminded of again (The face that Private Pyle has in Full Metal Jacket when he finally flips is mesmerizing). For a long time, I've always been of the opinion that Robert De Niro has traded more on his screen presence (epitomised by his 'you talkin' to me' schtick) than his acting ability, but he was in top form here, and the film is still powerful stuff. The end is probably the best portrayal of blue-collar faith in the great red-white-and-blue on film, especially when you consider what that means now.

Anyway, I loved. All I have to do now is get around to watching the free DVD of Paris, Texas that I got recently.