I stan for Craig Charles from way back. I loved his skitchy ass in Red Dwarf, and I love him now. You need to be listening to his funk show on BBC6, because your pasty behind needs more 'fro in your life. I know this for a fact; and yes, I'm talking to you.
On a not-at-all-related note, I got practically all the way to work this morning on the Culver City 3 (aka My Green Machine) when an inexplicably radiant chick got on and radiantly fumbled around for the correct fare. There were probably about 10 or so commuters left on the bus by that point, and she turned to address us [radiantly, natch. Seriously, this chick had a smile like the sun--it was blinding]: "does anyone have change for a $5?" I didn't. No one else said anything, either. Her smile didn't waver. She looked each of us in the eye. I felt she was asking me something deeper than whether I had five singles in my possession. The mood on the bus started to get tense. I had three one dollar bills in the pocket of my shirt. But three is not five and I have never felt my own insufficiency more than at that moment. The bus kept moving. No one said anything. More moments passed. I reached into my pocket and withdrew my three wrinkled dollar bills with a timid hand. I hesitantly raised my hand, but my mouth stayed stubbornly shut. I couldn't seem to find the words to say "if you're willing to take a 40% loss, I can help you ride this bus." At that moment, my halfhearted effort at aiding my fellow man was obviated: this sun-bleached California chick found &4.75 in her backpack and we all breathed a sigh of relief.