The weather was vile again, not so cold, but murky and drizzly, so the park was all boggy again. After a trip to ASDA post- damp workout, I settled in with a bucket of caffeine, and purring familiar trying to block my view, to catch up with the episodes of SPIRAL series 2, that I seem to have missed somehow. I remembered the ripper-ish serial killer thread, and the illness of my nigga Judge Roban's nasty old mother. The last thing I recalled was him contemplating smothering her with a pillow, after she'd gone veggie because she refused to have an operation. Well, I'd better not drop any more spoilers, but it is really all kicking off in the most riveting fashion. I guess it just shows what a pathetic old couch potato I am, but I felt so pleased to be able to spend a dreich afternoon in this fashion. EASTENDERS, on the other hand, is in a pretty tedious place these days. I mean, how many times has Phil Mitchell been cold-conked and left for dead in the pit of his own garage? I know his brother Grant did the honours once. This time it was Jack in a jealous rage...meanwhile, loveable shlub Masood is weakening under the erotic onslaught of the gorgeous nubile Ayesha, who is obviously loco, and ragingly in love with him. Oy, Masood, NO!NO!.