I previously wrote about Baarle-Hertog/Baarle-Nassau, a tiny town in Holland with a few dozen parcels of land belonging to Belgium. International borders run haphazardly through the town, dividing streets and buildings, like so:
Well, it seems that Google maps has Streetviewed all of Holland and none of Belgium, resulting in Streetview stopping and starting at near-random intervals through Baarle-Nassau. My favourite part is that some of the Belgian parts have little parts inside them that belong to Holland. These tiny strips of Dutch land, some no bigger than a front yard, are streetviewed, while the Belgian parts are all cut off.
Good news! The Gouvernement has agreed to increase its funding of TVQ Television and to create a new public radio service, Radio Free Québec. With its new budget and staff, we hope to greatly increase our current broadcast schedule.*
One of the programs I used to delight in watching as a child was 'Catch Phrase', which essentially was nothing more than watching other people guess rebuses for money. It was a simpler time back then.
This is a great clip of one of the bonus puzzles that was revealed one square at a time; each time you think it can't get any worse...
Marc and I did a short fifteen minute improv set (with two other gentlemen from our London group) at a pub called The Bath House last night. Our final scene was a game of Detective with Marc as the detective and me as the deputy.
The murder weapon we got was tampax (key line later on: "Gosh! Look at all this blood everywhere!"), and the location was a pub. But when it came to selecting a celebrity murderer, the audience overwhelmingly began shouting out 'Michael Barrymore', an Eighties British TV presenter with whom I'm familiar but I knew Marc wouldn't be. Unfortunately the only other suggestion was 'Jim Davidson' (another, even more obscure Eighties British TV presenter) so I had to take it.
Marc got it, bless him, after some pretty cheap tactics ("Oh, my phone's ringing, let me just take MY CALL"; "Well, let's get this body to the cemetery and BURY MORE of him than is buried right now"), but, mostly for his benefit, I present these clips from the golden age of British entertainment. Please appreciate the undercurrents of racism and/or homophobia from the audience. I also love that all male British gameshow presenters wore tuxes at all times until well into the Nineties.
