I yam

being really crap at blogging aren't I? I think it's a combination of parenthood being a bit knackering and lot's of other things placing demands on my time. So let's see... What's been going on in Radville? Erm... Well lots of thanking my lucky stars I don't live in the West Country (even though I'd like to). Those poor fuckers in Gloucester I feel so sorry for them(a lot more sorry than I did for sheffield but you can blame that on those wingeing shitcunts Sheffield Utd). It's scary to think that all it takes is a day of rain to knock us back to the stone-age. Sad as fuck that as soon as it happens there are people trying to make a fast buck. I refer to the wankers filling their vans up with bottled water, driving to the outskirts of the flooded area and selling it for 2,3,4 times the normal price. Cuntish in the extreme I hope they get payback in kind.

In happier news I bought a Dalek. A radio controlled one. Toys R Us were selling em for £20 which is a much better price than the rrp of £40. And yes, while I did indeed buy it for me because I've coveted one ever since they first came out, it was also bought with the little fella in mind cos he love them Daleks! Right from when he was around six months old he'd stop what he was doing when the Daleks came on telly. I've got a talking Dalek that the Breadknife bought me a few years back and he's obsessed with it. I use it to calm him down when he's having one of those 'so tired I don't know what to do so I'll scream' paddy fits. Now, with the RC one he runs up to it, then runs to the other end of the room, stops, and waits patiently for it to catch up and exterminate him. :D Dead funny.

In even more better happier news Steve and Elaine got married yesterday (26/07/07) Congratulations guys :) and all the best for the future.

More Tosh

Yes indeedy. DC Minimates wave 4 has arrived to spread it's teeny tiny plasticky goodness. Look upon my Minimates and despair at your own lack of poxy plastic kiddycrap! Oh Yes!

Star Wars Thing

We went. We Saw. We did a bit of shopping.

As we drove towards the excel centre we could see a line of people that appeared to be around half a mile long or so. That's a lot of people. I get a text from Steve telling me he's in a queue about half a mile long or so. I look at the breadknife, she's already clocked the queue. Things look grim. Once we get inside Excel we get a very good idea of how big the queue is. There's about half a mile of people inside too. The bread is not looking happy at the prospect of queueing with the little fella. I'm already feeling stressed out. Steve (or rather Elaine) suggests we try and find them. Eventually after much texting and a couple of calls we establish where they are and wave like loons across a vast warehouse like space. A security guard politely informs me that there's no way I'm crossing this space to see them. I lie through me teeth and tell him they've got our tickets. He tells me to go and wait where they come out of the warehouse bit and I can meet up with them then. Sorted! It's weird, I've met Steve before, we've been on all sorts of web based things together, but it's the first time I've met Elaine despite us slating each other via the web for a good few years now. Surprisingly we take the piss out of each other. :D

Once we get inside it's a case of 'oh fuck!' There are people. Lots of people.They are everywhere! Steve and Elaine go to look around on their own. Me and the bread wander about a bit dazed. I look at the programme find out where the convention exclusives are being sold and decide to get this part of it out of the way. I want them damn toys! The Bread and L'il Fella make their way to the family area, I go shopping. Fifteen quid! Fuck me! That's expensive. I have to get two of them too as I've promised a mate in the States I'd pick one up for him. I wait in the sort of queue that you see in the post office or security at the airport. It's a never ending succession of turns along roped off areas. Not fun. It's fucking hot. There's a lot of people about, so it's fucking hotter. Eventually I get my stuff and head off to find the Breadknife. Silly me decided to go via one of the lanes of dealer stalls. Dumb dumb dumb. The show organisers have lumped all the dealers in one area. It's fucking mental. I can't actually get close enough to buy anything. I'm also feeling slightly claustrophobic too. I give up and head for the Bread. They've been having a lovely time sitting down and drawing and L'il Fella's had his pic taken with Darth Vader (who the Breadknife said was a really nice Dutch bloke, cheers fella) . Steve turns up and we're having a chat then he casually drops into the conversation that toys r us are there with their own exclusive figure. D'oh! So I go and queue up again. This time I pay a tenner for one figure. I'm so weak!



Get back to the peeps, Elaine's turned up, but her and Steve are off shopping now. So we bid them adieu and go for another walk around. It's still hectic as fuck I still can't get near the dealer stalls. I think the organisers fucked up badly with this. I'm sure the dealers will let them know about it too.

The highlight for me, apart from meeting up with Steve and Elaine, were the people who'd made the effort and dressed up in costume. Now in the cold light of day you'd wonder what possesses them to do it. But in context of shows like this, or the first night one of the films is released it really adds to the atmosphere. Costumes ranged from really badly amateurish to movie studio authentic. The guys from the 501st Garrison (Stormtroopers) in particular looked fantastic.

(sorry it's blurred, It's a phonepic)


There were a few Wookies dotted about too. I talked to one bloke who'd just taken his Wookie mask off to get some air. He was roasting inside the suit but absolutely loving it. In all despite the queues, the crushes and the heat it was a cracking day. Meet old mates, meet new mates. Bask in geekery. Buy some shit. The little fella loved it, it's a shame he wasn't a little older but he still had a great time. I just hope the powers that be organise the next European Celebration a tad more sensibly. Spacing the dealers out around the whole floor would be a good start. I'm sure they'd agree too.

This final pic I'm including not so much for the cheesecake element but because this bird really pissed me off. I'm just about to ask the blokes in the costume if I can have a pic with them. Along comes Princess Lookatmebaps and all of a sudden it's perve central. Don't get me wrong, I like ladies not wearing many clothes as much as the next man but dammit I wanted MY picture taken. Suddenly there's all these blokes snapping away at her and she fucking loved it! I'd just like to point out that this pic was taken by the Breadknife while she was waiting for me to get a pic done. I gave up in the end. Gah!

Finally

I get around to uploading some holiday snaps to Flickr. They're not all that interesting, mainly of the little fella in various locales, but they're there.

Hooray they've fixed the title bar!

How much?

(it's very annoying not being able to type in the title bar)

I'm going to this at the weekend http://www.celebrationeurope.com/
I've just had an e-mail telling me Mark Hamill will be there signing autographs. I already knew this from reading the US celebration pages over on the official star wars website. What I didn't know is that he'll be charging £85.00 a signature. That's EIGHTY FIVE FUCKING POUNDS!
I'm glad I'd decided not to bother with autographs. I mean, I'm a geek and I'm proud but £85.00 is a lot of wine vouchers.

Is it just me?

Or does everyone else on Blogger get weird 10,000 word comments? A sample of which is below...

"Manifest Destiny dictates a white-man's prophecy - White-man's world, white-man's Apocalypse:::History says society evolved into where it is today. Others may look at it differently::::Because of the white man's favor the gods bestowed great wealth upon them:::::It is quite obviously a white man's god. The reality is that the gods SCRIPTED Earth's history and utilize reverse positioning::Money is a corruptor and is hurting you badly.The god's positioning is SUCK that their positioned Anti-Christ is the architect of the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake. Because of this event they went on to control business on the west coast and elsewhere as the United States emerged as a superpower, capitalism as the dominant economic system.This is Manifest Destiny::::Our positioned Anti-Christ is the archetect of the 1906 Earthquake, reconstruction of SF, erection of California which subsequently gave him a platform to assult business nationwide and globally.The Anti-Christ is the so-called godfather.And this individual is nothing more than a series of brain-less clone hosts, frequency of replacement based on actual use::::1. Celebrities & politicians - heavy frequency2. Wealthy/telecommuting VPs/CEOs who nobody ever sees - light frequency"

I'm glad I turned on Comment Moderation.

Creatively Bankrupt

A couple of years back I was pretty fucked off to read that Jack White of the White Stripes had trousered a few grand to write a song for a coke commercial. Most people these days wouldn't give a flying one about that. But for me, any artist that suckles from the teat of a multinational corporation is an artist that has become creatively bankrupt. They're effectively saying that they are for sale if the price is right.

Now I'm no fan of Fergie, maybe if her humps, her humps, her lovely ladybumps were real I'd look at her twice but musically? ... Nah no thanks! But when I read this over at the NME's news site I find my ire raised. My dander is up. What the fuck is going on? How important can money be to you to sign an agreement like that? I can't imagine the soggy gussetted pop moppet is short of a few quid just yet. So why sign an agreement that means she has to write songs about a clothing line? It's repulsive.

Not however, as repulsive as weak-minded puppets driving cars full of gas canisters into buildings full of innocent people mind you. But there are other blogs that will have written much more intelligent and insightful posts about that. I'll just call them cunts and wish them all a long and unhappy jail sentence.

This meandering pointless post is sponsored by the words 'Tired' and the sentence 'I'm really bored and pissed off'.