In the Hizzy: Off-Topic Postings

The not very informative recap of Human Error for your perusal. I'd better explain that I have this theory that FOX is staffed entirely by Absinthe obsessed monkeys. An Ode to the Writing Monkeys by the Writing Monkeys (dedicated to the wonderful world of Absinthe) And now, the end is here And so we face the long hiatus Stuff American Idol House truly is the grea-*test*-('"). What is a doc, if he has not Got a cane, and a bald spot. But through it all, Hugh stood 6.2 tall, And did it our way. Regrets, we’ve had a few The Tritter arc – let’s soo not mention But we did what we had to do and drank Absinthe without exemption (they are brave little monkeys aren’t they?) We planned each charted course (yeah right), each careful step along the byway (whoops – mind the lamp post) And more, drank more than you, we did it our way Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew When we didn’t have a flying clue But through it all, when there was doubt We drank it up and then passed out We faced all and we stood tall and did it our way Yes, it was our way Pass the Absinthe and on to the recap… Beautiful beautiful stuff. It brings a tear to my eye. I hear that even now the Writing Monkey’s end of season party is still going on and that they have invited Christopher Eccleston because they think he can take them to the Writing Monkey’s mythical sacred land: ‘The Banana Groves of Villanguard’. Chris tried to explain he is not really Doctor Who, but they kept plying him with Absinthe, eventually he agreed that he’d introduce them to Captain Jack and everything ended up happily because Captain Jack will do anything to and for a banana: a good source of potassium. Hopefully the Absinthe will run out and by the beginning of next season David Shore will come back from holiday and find them all slumped over their little monkey typewriters – with a half finished Hamlet script in them. So yet again it is hiatus time. Already the British press have rushed to the rescue and have been publishing photographs of Hugh – get this – washing his car! While his hair may have been abandoning him like passengers on the Titanic, fame has really gone to that man’s head hasn’t it. I mean washing his car! Next thing you know he’ll be sweeping the driveway or taking out the wheelie bin and he’ll be ordered into rehab like Winnona and Robert Downey Jnr. I don’t know if I can bear to watch the next season now. Washing the car! I bet next time we’ll find out that he even washes himself. And we all know what washing is an euphemism for don’t we!? Exactly: They call it cleansing, but I went to the Warriors for Eco-tourism site and learned the truth. There is rubbing involved – and sometimes those little spungie ball things that can be purchased quite cheaply from a variety of outlets, but must be allowed to dry out overnight or else they get moldy, but this doesn’t really matter as thanks to child labour in third world countries more can be purchased quite cheaply. If you ask me a quick dip in the swimming pool once a year does nicely. I really must stop drinking coffee. And so should the producers. I heard rumours that everyone was very excited because they had to go away on location to film that very exciting opening in the same way politicians from Lower Grugborrow get very excited when they are ‘forced’ to go on drainage fact finding missions to Tahiti. I’ve seen better stuff on You Tube! I really think they could have achieved the same affect by popping into someone’s garden, shoving the guest stars into the swimming pool, dousing them with a hose and getting one of the lighting monkeys to wave one of those garden spot lights around after a few too many Martinis. I think spending a bucket load of money to actually lower people into the South Pacific thing was a bit over the top. How do you manage to spend that much money and still make it look like crap? Still I used to get many free taxi rides from the lovely FOXy Rupert – and as he never examined the travel expenses very closely back then either - good on you Katie and Co. And I hope the holiday was nice. Oh yeah – a Cuban couple, Somethingerother - who has been alternately described by various fans as the Bad Accent Dude and that annoying git and his lovely wife Somethingerotheress (and I am not kidding they both appear to have about five different names in this episode), are picked up out of their sinking ship because they are desperate to see el Doctoro Houso. Look I am all for fanwanking on the Internet, but that is taking it a bit too far for an autograph. No way am I going to float across the Pacific in an inner tube. El Doctoro Houso feels the same way and is not in an autograph signing mood. In fact he is more in a hiding behind a fake version of the Washington Post (I think it might be called the Jersey Reporter – cute huh) and ‘a hat’ and spying on one of Foreman’s (presumably many) ‘I’m leaving – YAY’ ceremonies. ... Is it wrong to say that Hugh Laurie in a cap looks darn cute? Well he does. Those little sticky outy bits are sort of gorgeous in a making you want to reach for the scissors way. I’m not kidding. It brings out the inner hairdresser in me and that is terrifying simply because I am ‘hair retarded’. Tomorrow I have to go and suffer through an hour of abuse from my very good, but evil dominatrix hairdresser (she has already indicated I am in for it) because the other day I made the mistake of looking at a pair of electric clippers and saying ‘I wonder how these work’. It all went kabluey from there – the whole one side then the other side thing. Just be reassured that by the time you read this I will be freshly shawn and once again a credit to her human poodle parlour. But really – every time House wants to go incognito he wears ‘a hat’. Oh sure – like a six foot tall cripple with a bitchin flaming cane who screams out things like 'panty hamster' in crowded hallways is going to be any less noticeable because he is wearing ‘a hat’. It is a cunning disguise worthy of Baldrick. Wilson comes in and in his usual caring way says House is basically a pratt. Here we have reassurance that the writing monkeys have forgotten the Tritter arc and Wilson is still considered the House Whisperer, or rather the current holder of the House GPS tracking system device that I swear must exist. Hugh then has to eat. I was surprised: we still have the empty coffee cup, but Hugh Laurie makes a valiant stab at trying to look like he is swallowing. This is actually better than dubbing in weird slurping/water going down bathtub drain type noises, and if I didn’t have all those other horrible coffee cup experiences stuck in my head I just might have believed it. Go Hugh. This was the best effort yet. Hugh then takes a bite out of some bun type thing. It looks a bit like these lovely pork buns I get from the Vietnamese bakery round the corner, but I guess maybe not because there aren’t probably many Vietnamese bakeries in PPTH. Given the prop monkeys’ record and the coffee cup debacle I thought it would have been a plastic one – like the toy hamburger my dog plays with and I was fully expecting it to squeak. But by gum it appears to be real-ish because he takes a bite out of it. My Shitzu has only managed to break the squeaker. Did I mention my Shitzu is very talented? But do you Americans really eat that sort of stuff? If so – stop immediately if you value your internal organs. When will you lot learn? Good food and good liquor. The most startling thing about this scene: Wilson says that House is afraid of change. He still plays his first guitar and he has lived in the same apartment for 15 years. Um… yeah. That’s why we have seen two distinct apartments House has lived in over the last three years: the first even apparently on the second floor. Way to go there insert stock footage monkeys. Did they miss the memo that House is a cripple? It’s the cane isn’t it? It’s just too subtle a clue. Does anyone who writes this show actually watch this show or are they now recruiting from the BMWG (Blind Monkeys Writing Guild). This is yet another reason why continuity monkeys and Absinthe don’t mix – because it confuses the hell out of the poor unsuspecting audience! But what is even more the most startling thing about this scene: Wilson is wearing a nice tie. It actually looks suspiciously like the one he gave House in Words and Deeds. Things certainly get around on House don’t they: first Hugh Laurie wearing that cod awful bright orange truckers hat to go all depressiony… sorry… sailing (and presumably to cover his humongous bald spot as the British tabloids would say - see HATGATE: http://diysheep.livejournal.com/17147.html ) and now Wilsie has been into House’s closet again (if you know what I mean). But sadly no HoYAYers he hasn’t come out of it quite yet. In this episode he just sort of huffs mostly. But more of Wilson’s huffiness later. Wilson then says something ridiculously cryptic and pointless about Foreman not wanting to be House but not wanting to be what he thinks House is then leaves. House’s (and the audience’s) slightly baffled look says it all. … And we cut to creepy laughing Foreman. Man this is creepy. The man is creepy. Anyone who sits at a computer and laughs like that just screams internet porn creepy… but Foreman doing it: oh man – serious creepy. Nothing is that funny. Now I am sure you have all enjoyed some laugh making stuff on your computer before, but you don’t go ‘he he he’ in that creepy way continuously like you are the Wicked Witch of the West. I just got this vision of: Hello my pretties. Let me read your emails. He he he. As someone cleverer than me pointed out (I think it might have been Barbara Barnett and she used references to Camile, but I am going to put it a bit more bluntly): DEAR GOD FOREMAN JUST LEAVE ALREADY.

Still going: PART TWO of the not very informative recap of human error Foreman is like one of those crazy people on forums who go: I’m going… I’m really going now… You’ll miss me… (yeah right) This is me – swanning off! Okay, I’ll stay, but only if you tell me how much you love me. So apparently the writing monkeys have been spending way too much time on the Internet playing around on forums or Foreman has the emotional intellect of 13 year old called Tiffinie from Iowa who writes Harry Potter fan fiction involving Snape and various original spunky female characters with flailing jet black hair and slight gothic tendencies. I am suspecting a bit of a combination here. Well it is good to know that Foreman really is a pratt. And I wish him good luck in his endeavours to become even more annoying in the future. Shouldn’t he have gone by now. I seem to remember a two week wait between The Jerk and Human Error. By my calculations Foreman should have been gone, outa there, done and dusted about four weeks ago. But the bugger is still hanging around like a bad smell. And this in my mind really isn’t making him any more likeable and re-employable for the next season. I presume there must be some Omar Epps fans out there, ie his wife, but they are not remarkable vocal. I don’t mind if you want to stick up for him guys. Just come out of hiding and convince me. I’m game – pubis beard and all. Just tell me one single reason why I should give a damn if he comes back next season or not? House still apparently finds Foreman fascinating and shoots him many very unsubtle looks as they do the differential. Blah blah blah… MRI… etc. And we cut to Cuban Guy whining to Chase about how he wants to see El Doctor Houso. Man that guy can whine. Apparently he has permission. Not to whine, but to hang out at the hospital. Really? How did they end up in a hospital and not an internment camp? That wouldn’t happen in Chaseland. Our government hates immigrants now – odd considering, but there you go. The first thing they do if someone lands on our shore is lock them up in the middle of the desert. It is very shameful. We even lock up kiddies and it sends them nuts. No way would we let them roam free around hospitals. In fact we have managed to get a tad enthusiastic, lock up and deport some of our own citizens cos they looked a bit funny and immigration officials aren’t the brigh-*test*-('") bulbs on the leaking fishing boat. Chase tells him to suck it up and get over it because the chances of seeing Doctor House are even more remote than being plucked out of a storm. We then cut to Mrs Whingey Cuban Guy who tells us her husband never gave up. I think there might be a subtle message there here, but stuffed if I can work out what it was. … And we cut to: Now personally I wouldn’t care if she got gored by a rabid bull, but Cameron gets the best line in the entire season – HECK – the show! Chase and House are bitching about Foreman and Cameron and sayin stuff like if you get her stoned enough she's totally easy and would shag the Dali Lama and then: “I’m in the room.” The camera pans over to a very pissed off Cameron. This is not KittenCam, this is NymphopsychoCam. You can just see her thinking: I am going to go to an expensive kitchenware shop; buy an overpriced stainless steel ice pick; get that key he keeps over his mantel; and shove that ice pick in his ear and listen to him scream while I drink a very nice dry martini. Or at least it did to me. Anyone? Okay, it was just me then. And it would serve them right if she did: sexist creeps. House I can understand, but I always thought Chase was a bit metrosexual. Goes to show that men really are bastards. Actually, thinking about it, I am probably even less romatic than House (all that cutsey stuff with the prescription pad and Stacy - UGHH!) which might break the mold a bit. But sheep are crude. Come on Cameron - where were the cutting remarks about Chase's Little Chase and how she forgot to mention she had syphilis? I used to complain that frozen pizzas are an abomination unto the Lord. Maybe that’s why the Chase/Cameron relationship ended up on the rocks for a while – she was ready to make do with those pizza subs you can pick up in service stations and he wanted to break out the good olives and the capers. And trust me: us Chasians can make dang fine pizzas because we paid attention to all those little Italian mothers who migrated here after the war. Interestingly enough in the original pitch Chase was originally meant to be ‘the older one’ and closer to House intellect wise than the other fellows. And thank Christ someone told the writing monkeys about this because through the last few episodes they have been making his character quite interesting. … The medical stuff goes a bit hazy here for me, but Foreman – true to form – manages to break Mrs Whingey Cuban Guy’s arm. Which, at least, is a step up: he didn’t kill her this time. Way to go Forebaby! Surprisingly House isn’t upset at this and Chase is all like 'Foreman hates you stop being nice to him and stuff' and so House fires Chase and then Hugh does that puppy dog look thing so we know he’s doing it for all the right reasons even though it hurts and we are like all going total crap: the writers were desperate because it is the last episode of the season and you can’t shoot him again and like David and Doris are going ‘so totally not: it is sooo art man’ and Lawrence is like all sulking in a corner thinking 'I wish I’d thought of the screen going black like The Sopranos' and Katie is all like 'more nudity' and Hugh is going ‘hey I already stuck a rod up my penis: what more do you want from me?’. Even though Foreman and Cameron have no clue we know why House fired Chase: the grasshopper had become a man and all those years of standing on poles and killing flies with chopsticks had finally paid off. He was ready to fight. Hang on – that might have been The Karate Kid, but you get the general idea. As we haven’t filled the Hugh doing something goofy quota for this season we have a completely gratuitous, cut rather cute scene where Hugh plays his flame cane to some bitchin music. Then every man and their Wilson burst in to inquire why Chase was fired. Obviously they haven’t seen The Karate Kid. You would think at least one of them might have? House however has seen The Karate Kid and ignores them because he is obsessed with ‘the pet scan’ (aren’t we all). He he he, as Foreman would say. Well he would laugh creepily, but Foreman is busy doing his ‘sincere’ thing as he convinces Cuban Guy to agree to some horribly risky procedure. Then he gives Whingey Cuban Guy House’s home number. Oh me oh my! Isn’t Foreman clever? I sense hijinks a coming down the track. 101 unanswered phone calls later House is still staring at his first guitar and presumably (or hopefully) thinking deep deep thoughts. You have to admit House is focused if nothing else. Foreman and Cameron have another Grey’s Anatomy moment when Foreman is actually trying to do a surgical procedure and Camsie is just hanging around looking pissed and sulking. As you do if you are a doctor assisting on a surgical procedure that involves sticking things in someone’s heart. Dear God! Remind me again: never travel 1000 miles in a leaky boat to PPTH when House’s team are having emotional issues. Presumably House has finished brooding because he suddenly makes a dramatic entrance right at the moment the Cuban lady dies but still continues to talk with no pulse. I just read an article on the filming of House and they say quite often the reality of medical science and the needs of the storytelling are in conflict. I think this is a polite way of saying that whenever their medical advisor goes ‘ah… look guys… yes that is a lovely banana…I don’t want to be picky here… no I don’t want a drink thanks… but there is no way even House can reattach a head after a person has been decapitated or some such’ he is set upon by the writing monkeys, tied up and locked in a supply closet. Leaving Foreman and Cameron to frantically continue CPR on the chickie babe House goes off to bug Wilson. This is cute because House pops up in a monitor while Wilson is hacking into someone’s colon. It is good to see Wilson actually does something now and again, but I thought the snide remarks about the patient’s colon were a bit off. We don’t mention you are getting fatter and fatter Wilsie do we? Oh yes – well yes we do. But my point is if the patient is letting Wilson rummage around in his colon he is presumably sick and as you are an oncologist of course his colon isn’t going to look all that hot: BECAUSE HE HAS CANCER YOU NINNY! Or maybe Wilson just likes to make morally superior judgments on passing organs when he operates. Kidsnurse has just written this fantastic set of vignettes about what if the Tritter thing had gone topsy turvy and Wilson had gone to jail for hindering a police investigation. In the la-*test*-('") one House is feeling guilty about Wilson losing his medical license. Strangely enough after seeing Wilson in action on the show the last one didn’t quite hit me in the gut as the others. ‘Oh damn, yes… what a shame. Patients everywhere are now safe from the colon abuser’. Wilson is annoyed House has interrupted his colon mocking and tells House to get off his monitor and go talk to his team. House says the dark one and the bitchy one are busy. Wilson then, in an act of unbelievable hypocrisy then says ‘well go talk to Chase… oh you can’t can you. Because you fired him. Change is a bitch isn’t it: so nerr’. Well Mr Colon Hater: you were the one saying House needed to change. So there is no point getting all huffy if House turns up on your monitor during one of your colon hacking sprees because you were the one who put the idea into his head. Wilson then heads south into Grey’s Anatomy territory too and starts going on about Foreman. Why is everyone on this show so obsessed about Foreman? Sure as heck the fans aren’t. When was the last time you read a Foreman fan fiction story? They are so thick on the ground aren’t they? If I had tragically lost my hand in a combine harvester accident I could count them on my stump. As House says Foreman isn’t the only chocolate covered cherry in the box. I’m sure they can hire another lovely black actor to play a doctor for next season. And how’s this – maybe this time – one who can act. I know it is a radical thought, but I just wanted to throw it out there. And we cut to: Poor Cuddy. She really is overworked. Not only does she run a hospital, misdiagnose patients every so often, signs anything shoved in front of her, she also teaches. This I find amusing. I have never known a vice chancellor or a chancellor to be anything less than half an hour late for a meeting and when they had big wig meetings they used to cordon off whole chunks of the parking area so they didn’t have to have any contact with the grotty little oinks (students). This is rather like when they closed the Sydney Harbour Bridge when Dick Cheney came to visit. For those of you who think Australian people wear lederhosen, the Sydney Harbour Bridge is our main bridge in our biggest city. Umpteen thousand people cross it every day. Closing it makes every Sydneysider go insane because actually getting somewhere in Sydney is somewhat akin to the roadmap of peace in the Middle East. Screwing with their transport system makes them very very cross and lost some guy an election. The only person I know who got through the day they closed the largest thoroughfare in Australia for some dick was a friend who owns a vintage Rolls Royce. They must have thought he was the Queen Mother or something, but he got to cross the bridge with no traffic at all. But unlike Dick Cheney, no one wants to kill Cuddy, so she is leading a gaggle of little cute medical students around and signing clip boards left right and center. And why do they have to wear little short medical lab coats? I thought college was expensive enough in America without making them fork out for teeny tiny lab coats. Why can’t they have normal lab coats? They are going to have to buy them when they graduate anyway. You know how they feel about lab coats at PPTH. What a waste. Consumerism is not sustainable people. I know this might shock to some (not that I have no dress sense) but I have a set of clothes I am very happy with (I have a fondness for Contrary Road)and I have been wearing some of them for over ten years and I find that every two or three years my dress sense comes back into fashion so there you go. My last clothing purchase was a Manchester United beanie (stocking cap) from a $2 shop ($2.95) simply because I had lost my old one and my head was cold because it is winter here in Chaseland. Although I do go through an awful lot of socks… Loitering on the foyer balcony ('what foyer balcony' those of you who haven’t seen season three cry) House spots a potential wacky, zany and unconventional differential diagnosis. After we have the obligatory mini Foreman/Chase and Cameron cameos House is ordered to stick dying Cuban Chick on bypass. This means a bunch of machines that would look at home on Startrek The Original pump your blood for you because you can’t be bothered. But was it me or did Pseudo Medical Student Cameron remind you of someone famous and look like an elf from Lord of the Rings at the same time? I was a bit worried when House said ‘send me your resume’. I’m hoping this is in five years time because apparently she is only a first year medical student. Not that I have anything against first year med students and their teeny tiny lab coats, but… oh I’d say more, but there are a bunch of writing monkeys eyeing me off and I think they want to tie me up and lock me in a closet. I am also even more worried because I was chatting with my hairdresser and she has this lovely assistant/indentured slave type lady called Jamie. I said that if she wanted I would be happy to play crash -*test*-('") dummy for Jamie (if she wanted to get behind the scissors). But get this. Jamie is only eleven months into her apprenticeship and won’t be able to even touch hair until her third year. All she gets to do is colours and that basin hair washing thing they always do even though you’ve told them you have just washed it. I’ve seen lawyers get their degrees faster. Mind you – my hairdresser is fantastic and I now look very sharp. But getting back to the action… House is playing with his ball. Actually in Chaseland we had a politician who only had one due to -*test*-('")icular cancer. He never won an election. This has nothing to do with his one balliness, he was just a wanker and used to beat people up. I’m not kidding. He did. He chased down this poor taxi driver and stomped on this journalist’s umpteen thousand dollar camera. He then wrote a book that confirmed what everyone thought: total tosser – one ball or not. However fortunately House’s ball is big, soft and squishy (or maybe that’s just how I imagine it to be) and he is throwing it around with gay abandon – not in that sense of course – sorry HoYAYers. And in comes Whingey Cuban Guy and they chat. The upshot of this absolutely irritating and pointless interaction is House ogling Mrs Cuban Guy’s heart. She had a heart, It failed to start, Oh me, oh my, oh me. House ogled it, He wiggled it, But it was not to be. So Mrs Whingey Cuban Guy has officially snuffed it - again. And we cut to… Foreman yet again packing up. Camsie gives him a lovely going away present. The article he stole from her: just to remind him of the total bastard he really is. Then proving once and for all she is insane Cameron says she will miss Foreman. Foreman responds that he will miss her also: Because I will miss stealing your articles and trying to kill you. Okay – maybe that was not in the script, but it was in the mind of every disbelieving viewer who doesn’t drink Absinthe for breakfast and has a memory span longer than five minutes. Please God: House – we need you. Save us from Foreman and Cameron bonding. And he comes to the rescue: with a snide comment about the joys of intellectual theft. He then tells PsychoCam and Forewank to piss off because basically they are useless bastards. Took you long enough there Housie! And we cut to: Jesse Spencer stuffing his face. But that scene was so boring I can’t be stuffed. Jesse and Jennifer really do have the charisma of Swiss cheese don’t they? And we cut to: More bloody brooding. And a bit of ogling of Cuddy’s legs. I am really losing interest here. Even that airplane episode was more interesting. No wonder you have to pay people to recap these bloody things. It is like pulling teeth. My life isn’t long enough. I saw a picture of one of the writer monkeys the other day and she was wearing a beret. A BLOODY BERET! Oh eff me sideways with a banana and a bottle of the good stuff. So sidestepping backwards we have the usual: House, she’s dead. She’s not dead Cuddy. Her heart isn't beating Piffle... and we are only 28 minutes into the episode. conversation. And sure enough Mrs Dead Whingey Cuban Guy pops back to life and we get the best look by Hugh Laurie EVAH as he just asks God what the heck is going on! Give that man an Emmy… well another one. And make him fondle Conan O’Brien again – that was funny too. Sod knows what it was. However, unlike Cameron (brilliant scientist that she is), I’m just pretty sure it wasn’t a miricle. It was actually something about having three little tree branch looking things in her heart when she should have only had two. The American government forks out the billions of dollars it will cost to fix this little defect, shoves Mr and MrsWhingey Cuban Guy into an inner tube, gives them a little push in the direction of Cuba and everyone lives hapily ever after. Awww! … And so having finally got that mind thumpingly tedious medical plotline out of the way: I have never seen anyone ever draw out a five feet walk to a door like Foreman did in his final final final goodbye scene. After all the tedious medical dribble has gone down House and Wilson are in the doctors’ lounge where House is desperately trying to convince legions of fan fiction writers that he can eat something other than Ruebens and Chinese food by making a peanut butter sandwich. Actually – you better hope no one who works at PPTH has a nut allergy because that’s all they seem to have in their main doctors’ lounge. And I have a suspicion that House in his nifty white T-Shirt and wet tousled hair is supposed to be freshly washed. A freshly washed House? Now that is either going to inspire you to write kinky fan fiction or remind you your sneakers need good going through the washing machine because they are a bit on the whiffy side. Which reminds me… But there Foreman was, inching his way to the door, turtles and tortoises over taking him at every turn and eventually House caves and asks him to stay. Foreman replies with his stock phrase: I don’t want to be you (once those writer monkeys find a line they like they never let it go). The Big Bumper Book for House Writing Monkeys: Chapter 13 – making the most of your bananas. Stock overused lines to choose from: I don’t know. It could be (fill in implausible disease here). I don’t want to be you. … But the best, weirdest and just plain oddest line has to be the one by Detective Tritter in Words and Deeds: “No, no more birthday cards.” Simply because this statement totally creeped me out and proved Tritter (or the writing monkey) was completely nuts. But House is not impressed with Foreman’s stock answer and says what we have all been thinking. He points out that Foreman is a selfish egotistical intellectual thieving coworker stabbing git who has had more goodbyes and farewells than Frank Sinatra and all Foreman’s pontificating was really pissing him off because he, House, had just saved a young woman’s life and yet still Foreman is just gurgling on with the same stock phrase and he can’t act for peanuts. Well – he might not have gone that far, but I definitely think that was the gist. Foreman just does that irritating smug smile thing and continues moving very slowly to the door. Then, thank Christ, he goes through it. Then we get a really long inexplicable close up of Wilson looking thoughtful. I think he was meant to be looking thoughtful about the ethical questions this raises, but there was something in Robert Sean Leonard’s eyes that just screamed ‘hmmm… a peanut butter sandwich would be really nice about now’. You pudgy bastard! But meanwhile, so disgusted with Foreman’s antics, House has given up on his peanut butter sandwich, throws it away leaving Wilson to cry that House is such a bastard friend he won’t even give him a half chewed peanut butter sandwich and House pisses off to go smoke cigars with the Irritating Cuban guy. They smoke, drink tequila and shoot the breeze about House’s lack of fellows. What!? What does this tell us? Obviously Cuddy used all the money that was meant to be used for smoke alarms and fire extinguishers and things on balconies. PPTH’s gossip vine could strangle a fully grown man at thirty paces. The Cuban Guy is a relative of a patient and doesn’t even speak English all that well, but he is up on hospital gossip. What? Do they have a bulletin board , one of those accidents road sign things in the lobby or do they just announce it over the intercom: Doctor Chase just got fired. If Doctor Wilson wants to berate him Doctor House is currently in the cafeteria hiding behind a pseudo copy of the Washington Post, an empty coffee cup and a weird looking plastic bun. Or Paging Doctor House: Doctor Wilson has just bought a double shot latte and if you are quick you can steal it, but watch out he’s loading it up with sugar and he’s pissed about the whole condo thing. There are no secrets in this hospital are there? But getting back to the plot House says he is quite au fait with all his ducklings leaving as he has already secured next season’s contract and is going get paid billions of dollars per second so sucked in McDreamy and the beardy guy from CSI. So whatever. Well – he doesn’t actually say that, but I think that was the gist. ... On that dramatic note we move on to the final finale scene. Yes Castro is big on Doctors. One of his good friends Che – was a doctor and for a revolutionary a very sensitive dude – and I would presume medical knowledge would come in handy during a revolution. There is this brilliant movie about young Che going on a road trip with his best mate. Che, as we all know, snuffed it at an early age and took up a second career as a T-shirt design, but his best mate went on the run a string of hospitals in Cuba that provided excellent health care. And do you know the scary part? They are free. So I suppose Communism is a bit of a trade off: you can’t get 101 flavours of ice cream, but you do get excellent free health care. Which reminds me I need to say something nice about public health care: When I was last in hospital (having lost a fight with a rather nice art deco sink) I was waiting around some hours after being yanked, plastered X –rayed, and dosed up on happy juice - and while trying to shove my big pink plastered hand into a vending machine a nurse walked by and scolded me, by name, and said that I wasn’t to try to shove my broken hand into passing vending machines, but stick it back in the public health care provided sling they had given me. Now, apart from the fact I was now permanently attached to a vending machine, I thought that indicated that sometimes, if you look pathetic enough, they really do care. So you Americans you – next time Hilary Rodham proposes a little scheme called Medicare – sod your fear of federalism and go for it. And then House plays a new guitar that he just bought (that looks exactly like the old one) and we are meant to find this deep and meaningful instead of slightly dull and sort of pointless. The End of season three. Many thanks to all monkeys of various sorts. Keep up the drinking. That's my recap and I'm sticking to it.

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