Oh, what i'd give to spend a day with Rodney Dangerfield and Morrissey. I don't think the coupling would be harmonious but I'd have a great time. A battle of negativity. We would rendevous at a Brewsters Fare type pub, and the two would introduce themselves. "I am human and I want to be loved!" Morrissey would whine. Rodney would chuckle "What a childhood I had, why, when I took my first step, my old man tripped me!". I'd watch with glee while Rodney orders a bloody steak, eyeballing the waitress while Moz would faint with disgust into the playzone, only to be smothered by multi-coloured balls. Rising up shouting "heifer whines could be human cries!" the word "heifer" inciting Rodney to make a joke about his ex-wife. Morrissey would then take off on his circa 1956 Raleigh muttering "the world won't listen". Rodney would then ask where the nearest 'Hooters' bar is with a wink, after insulting a nearby patron who hears him cry "That girl is so ugly. The last time I saw a mouth like hers it had a hook on the end of it." Reality has broke me from my strange reverie. I'm having morning coffee with Natasha Kaplinsky and Patrick Kielty. Grunt.

Okay, okay. So as soon as I've written the damn thing I find out Swayze IS in a new movie. Last night I was bombarded with 'Keeping Mum' trailers, and it was almost as if the Swayze was sticking two fingers up at me. "I am in a new movie, but not just any movie. I star with screen veteran Dame Maggie Smith. So bite me." Humph. The American site I checked for new Swayze news must have considered 'Keeping Mum' unmentionable. Strange - it does seem like the kind of British movie made for the US market. A bumbling fool (played by yank fave Rowan Atkinson) and his impeccably English wife (Kristin Scott Thomas) live in a small, genteel, idyllic British town - the kind where in reality, bored spotty teens are drinking Frosty Jack cider behind the local church in defiance of the local 'Daily Mail' reading inhabitants. The kind of town that makes you ask 'Where do the cleaners and dustbin men live? Are they hidden away in some old bomb shelter and let out when they are needed?' Anyhow, the Swayze plays a sleazy golf instructor, and in one scene we get to see his weather beaten body complemented by a red thong. My sides are splitting Swayze. Look Swayze, if you are trying to be clever with this self parody, and making an attempt to be accepted by modern day movie goers it won't wash. Shall movie goers cry "Oh look! The Swayze is actually a dynamic and comedic actor who is willing to mock himself for his art, how wonderful!" or say "Patrick Swayze! Forgot about him! - let's watch Roadhouse and laugh at his mullet." I'll put money on the latter. In my mind and many others you will always be a macho, overblown relic of the eighties no matter how much you try to deviate away from this. Shit sticks. Bring back the Swayze of yore.