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Fuck. Fuck. Fuckety fuckety fuck.

I got home at 11, made myself a cuppa and rewound the tape I used last night for Six Feet Under.

Curling up on the couch with the snug confidence that originates from the thought that I could skip all the ad breaks, I started watching what everyone around me had told me was one of the best episodes so far.

5 minutes into the episode the tape jumped to 10 or 15 minutes later. I watched for another 5 minutes, then the same thing happened again. And again.

All I got to see was 20 condensed minutes of:

• Gabriel's brother being killed
• Dave doing K and taking his shirt off
• Nate and Brenda going around funeral parlours
• Ruth acting suspiciously cheerful and energetic
• Closing credits

It might have been a special episode directed by David Lynch (although I did not spot any dwarfs). Or one of my housemates playing with the "stop" and "play" buttons on the VCR remote control while it was taping the show (in which case a few heads might roll before I move out of here).

I am sneaking into my housemate's room tomorrow night and watch the rerun on her personal precious posh E4 cable thing.