"Apology accepted, Captain Needa."

Some days I wish I were Darth Vader. Not yer namby-pamby "new" Star Wars "I'm just a misunderstood, ego-neglected wannabe baddie", but yer full-on "you don't know the power of the Dark Side" original trilogy Darth Vader.

It'd make me life so much easier. Think about it: no room to stand ont bus, seats already being full? Simply stare at nearest bloke and say "You! Off!" And he would, too. Sharpish. People standing on yer feet ont MTR train? Simple flick o the wrist and their head would explode. They wouldn't do that again.

And so to obsequious blokes as work in electrical stores. The faithful readers among you may recall I were rather upset wi my last DVD player, as it were slowly sliding into disfunctionality. I waited till pay-day and bought a new one. Only, being a smartarse, I thought I'd buy a recorder. I took myself and me budget off to Fortress, found that the big-guns models I'd previously wanted were region-locked (region 3, for China, fer some unknown reason), and so stumped up HK$2,450 fer a Korean-built "Kiss" model. Yeah go on, have yer laff.

Cut to two weeks later. We had a thunder storm. Having once lived 600 feet above sea level ont side of a hill (cue cries of: "It's not a mountain unless it measures 1,000 feet!" / "Well then, twenty feet and we have a moun-tain!" Welsh-style), I get a bit nervous of me stuff being plugged in. So I got up at 2am and unplugged the 4-gang socket fer me front room and then the one fert bedroom (computer etc).

Next day being Sunday, went out to yam cha (to eat dim-sum) and forgot all about the electrics. Came back, plugged int computer and arsed around on t'internet. Late evening decided to watch TV or a DVD if there were nowt on. Plugged in front room socket while leaning over't DVD recorder, and almost lost me eyebrows in the resulting wee explosion that went off from somewhere inside the casing, between the ventilation grid's slots. A crackling of electric and that old familiar smell of melting solder accompanied it, so being one of the un-bluntest tools int box, I unplugged it again.

Hmm. This is me 4-gang socket. TV works, stereo works, broadband decoder box works. Hmm, says I, and just fert crack unplugs the stereo (which would not a be a great loss if it died) and plugged it int socket as just had the DVD recorder in it. No trouble at all.

Angry that two in-line fuses had not deterred me recorder from trying to take me face off, I packed it all away int box it came in, and the next day during me lunch break from work, took it back.

O. My. Dog. Try convincing the monkey-boy on duty that my recorder is well and truly dead, that it's not simply a power problem, or me trying to play the wrong disc, or in fact anything other than the fact that something inside blew itself up. Like pulling fookin hen's teeth, I tell you. Manager (who believes his knowledge of electrical items to be heaven-sent) arrives on scene, telling me in a patronising voice that he'll change the fuse and everything will be restored. I stand there, knowing me own perspicacity wi electrical items int so bad, and tell him if his wee fuse can really repair damage caused by an internal fault and the resulting blow-out, I'll gladly write to't newspapers declaring him to be the Second Coming.

Of course neither me abject sarcasm nor the new fuse did owt, and they had to replace the kaput machine. Which they did, no problem. I took it home, used it, had no trouble.

Skip to yesterday evening. It doesn't like me region 2 discs, not one of 'em. Bloody typical. It's a region-free machine, why should it have trouble, and why only wi region 2? Praps the region coupled wi the PAL set-up confuses it, poor wee lamb. Gave up and arsed around on t'internet instead, still proper steamed though.

Skip to tonight. We watched a region 3 disc ("Bravo Two Zero") no trouble. Went out fer twenty minutes to buy ice-cream and munchies. Came back, put in a region 2 disc. And you know what's coming next, right? Bastard thing just spun and spun the fookin disc like it were in the bloody Tour de France. Did all the usuals; took out disc, turned it off, unplugged it, tried it again, no joy, played a region 3 disc, took it out, and finally – finally – it played the region 2 disc I wanted. Now I'm right pissed off – I mean, it's supposed to be a region-free machine. I just want a fookin machine that does what it says ont box. Is that so unreasonable?

It's going back int box tomorrow night. Tuesday, me day off, it's going back to't shop, and they're going to refund me. If I have to use me secret Dark Side of the Force special powers to make it so, I will. Then I'm going to the nearest rival electrical store and buying a player only, one that's guaranteed to play all my different regions.

Bastards.

Apart from that, also having trouble writing this new fan-fic, as everything's coming out dark and moody. Wonder why that could be, eh. Kids at work are annoying and lovely in turns, no change there. Have started on "Sharpe's Havoc" by Bernard Cornwell, and have had to fit a new measuring scale to me Bugger-o-meter. Crikey blimey Charlie, and I thought I swore like a sailor. Well, praps I do, but that obviously falls pitifully short o swearing like a Green Jacket. And his justification for doing summat as other, higher-ranking officers won't, especially in the case of wanting to shoot French officers fer raping local Portugese girls ("We caught him with his breeches down round his ankles and his equipment hanging out. What was I supposed to do with him? Give him a brandy and offer him a game of whist?") is priceless.


Also still waiting fer "Pirates of the Caribbean 2", seeing as it dunt open till August 3rd over here. Bastards.

Anyway, that's about it, I think. I might go to bed. I might just refill me glass wi vodka and have a wee peek at the Sean Porn page. You never know, there might be summat new waiting to be read.

Peach and lube. Lots and lots of lube.

Tags:
Darth Vader ~ Star Wars ~ DVD ~ region code ~ Welsh ~ dim sum ~ PAL ~ fan-fic ~ Bernard Cornwell ~ Sharpe ~ SeanPorn ~ POTC