Sing, goddess, of the anger of Achilleus, son of Peleus...

We're watching it tonight.

Troy, that is, for the uninitiated. Should be a pleasant experience seeing that most of the audience would be adult, the kids having their exams at this time.

And after tonight, I decide whether or not Troy remains on my DVD shopping list when I'm in Vancouver next month.

***

Speaking of anger...

Was in a few cabs the last week and I must have had three of the angriest cab drivers in Singapore. One cursed at an ambulance with its siren on and its lights flashing. This was on the CTE and the cabbie lost it completely:

"Stupid fucking ambulance! Flashing for fuck?"

Er, perhaps to send someone to the A&E?

Jeez.

The other one was gesticulating (and screaming out an open window as we passed him) at a driver in the car in front of us who had braked suddenly because there was a huge box in the middle of the road. OK, so it may have been made of styrofoam, but the damage it could do to any vehicle should it be run over would have cost a pretty penny.

Obviously Mr Furious didn't see the box. Or fully registered what I was telling him about the box. In the middle of the road.

Again. Jeez.

At least get angry for a reason.