Of regenerations and futures

Just thinking back to ‘Doctor bloody Who’ from last Saturday night. Can’t get that cricket-bowl moment out of me head. John Smith drawing on Doctor Five’s cricketing background? It were a spectacularly filmed scene, I have to say. And I just thought – “int that a bloody fab ‘Jadzia uses Tobin’s experience’ moment?”

Sometimes I miss Dax.

Needless to say, can’t wait to see how they get outta this one ~ talk about Best Cliffhangers Ever Awards. Just have to wait and see, eh? I’m already outraged that it’s June in a few hours ~ that means we only have a month left of ‘Doctor bloody Who’ before it finishes its present run. And I’m a little perturbed, I have to say. I’m refusing to believe that either David Tenninch Tennant or Freema Agyeman have signed fert next series. Refuse, I say, refuse! Cos then I can watch the big hyowj John Simm v the Tennster bish-bash-bosheroo showdown season-ender wiowt actually knowing who’s supposed to win… Kinda…

And then I won’t be heart-broken if either of them don’t return fert next series, or the fill-in special they might do to keep interest before the next series. Then if and when one or both of them do come back, I’ll be as happy as a Frenchman who’s just invented self-removing trousers, I tell you now.

Apart from that, have put out another ‘Doctor bloody Who’ fan-fic, this time concerning wheel-clamps and polished floors. It’s HERE, if you fancy it. Rated K+ for pretty much everyone, and again very much int style of an episode. I promise I shall try NOT to write any more. Promise.

Then we have the Wallpapers of the Week, over on me sister-ship. Some shiny new ones from last Saturday, an’ all. These are more implied than outright naughty. I think. Kinda.

I think that’s it, then. Oh, other than to mention that the new H&M store in Central is fab ~ they do trousers for chunky-arsed birds like me, and actually have decent stuff. Although I have to say, they have some right skewed underwear sizes. Since when is that an 85C? Honestly, that new 85C was clearly more of an 85B ~ made me look like some extra from a Bronte adaptation. Seriously, if I’d dared to sneeze I’d have had me own eye out.

Anyway, that’s it. Got to go to work. Oh yeah, and watch the new Pirates film after that.

Soopytwist.

Tags:
Doctor Who ~ Jadzia Dax ~ David Tennant ~ Freema Agyeman ~ John Simm ~ fan-fic ~ H&M

SAY WHATY WHO NOW?

Last night?
‘Doctor bloody Who’?
Scarecrows?
Watches?
Mysterious boys [I know who he is!]?
Maids?
Matrons?
Families?
Smiths?

Can’t –
sentence –
properly –

Gaaahhhhhh!!!
I demand part two NOW!

“Have you enjoyed it, Doctor? Being human? Has it taught you wonderful things? Are you better, richer, wiser?”
“You had to go and fall in love with a human, didn’t you? And it wasn’t me!”




Tags:
Doctor Who ~ David Tennant ~ Martha Jones ~ Freema Agyeman ~ BBC

“Woss mean ‘innuendo’?”

Righty-ho then, time fer another ‘students say the funniest things’ segment.

I’m sat in class, trying to get kids to talk about the T.V. shows they watch, and it’s like pulling hen’s teeth. You know the type, when they think a brisk nod o the head and quick barely-there shrug will get em past all questions. Oh no, no, no, my young friends, not so. But then, quite unexpectedly, a young lad starts to talk about some such US programme he’s seen on telly recently. It were on cable, not terrestrial, and he’s describing someone who can move through time and / or space, and his methods.

“So, how does he do this, then?” say I.
“He thinks about it. And watches,” says he.
“He watches?” say I.
“No, he uses a watch.”
“Ah. Right,” say I.
“And he’s Japanese. My mother doesn’t like the Japanese, but she likes Hiro.”
“Cos he’s a hero?”
“What?” says he, clearly confused.
“Nothing. Carry on.”
“Well, he uses a watch to change the time.”

Silence from his classmates. Then I pick on another, sleepy-looking spanner.

“Well? Do you think he can move through space and / or time using a watch?” say I gamely.
“No,” says he, “I think using a watch is a silly idea. Like… Superman and a phone booth. Silly.”
“But no!” says another student quickly, “that’s how the Doctor moves through time and space.”
“With a phone booth?” Original Student asks sarcastically.
“No, a kind of… er, teacher? You know, do you?” asks Challenger desperately.
“I do, and no he does not move through time and space with a phone booth.”
“What then?” asks Original Student. “How does he do it?”
“Well, the Doctor does it with a TARDIS.”

Cue moment of horror as I realise what I’ve just said. And then a flash-flood o memories of them old car stickers that read, ‘Carry On’ style, “Young farmers do it in wellies”, “Bank managers do it 9 to 5”, etc. Oh the shame…

Talking o kids and stuff they say, was looking for a list of suitably the Doctor-ish insults (long story, suffice to say: ‘new fan-fic in offing’), and stumbled over this page. I had fun reading it, and it constantly amazes me how perceptive kids really are…

So that’s it then. Remember yer towel day after tomorrow, and join the rest of the hoobiest froobs who always know where their towels are. It should be law.

Coming soon (as I did promise this a while back, but am ‘still collating’, in a Cardassian-made hybrid computer kinda way) ~ a fantasy league of Royal Marines Commandos update.

Peach and lube.

Tags:
Hong Kong ~ teaching ~ Heroes ~ Doctor Who ~ TARDIS ~ BBC ~ Douglas Adams ~ towel day

“Go on my son!”

Well, now then. It’s Sunday morning and I’m giggling like a 14 year old after watching last night’s ‘Doctor bloody Who’.
Before it came on, I were thinking, ‘so this 42 business int really THE 42, eh? Shame…’
But was it?
You could argue that the episode were all about answers, after all. Many and varied, chucked in at all angles and wedging open the way fer all kinds of ideas.
Or you could argue that that’s just a load of grasping-at-straws bollocks and in actual fact, 42 had nowt to do wi any of it.
Fair enough.

And on-sy, then. Loved this one, best episode since ‘Gridlock’, methinks. I think it were the sweaty runny shouty saving friendy inevitable grimy good old fashioned fun type stuff. And in a strange way, the fact that I had me attention pleasantly diverted from the usual eye-magnet. Oh, that supporting cast. I think Captain McDonnell was some bird from Eastenders, was she not? Everyone were fab, no doubt about it. But hello, who’s this? Who’s this cheeky grimy grease-monkey type popping up int background? Why, it’s William Ash, lovely little Manc monkey that he is. Did we like? Did we! Oooh, did we! Now that’s a biscuit fer dippin’!

The little touches were nice, and again, it felt like ‘the BBC does semi-drama’ at times. I loved the silence as the escape pod were jettisoned and it just fell away from’t ship. I loved the ‘that told him!’ from’t Doctor. I loved the ‘Universal roaming’ on her phone, a ‘frequent flyer privilege’. The “go on my son!” as he tried to press that wee button ont outside o ship. The return of the red Chucks (not the same ones he threw int bin, obviously, as these are high-tops and the ones he threw away weren’t… Gah! Ok, I’m a geek, alright?), his instant ‘I’m in charge so just get on with it, or everyone will die’ attitude. And woah woah woah ~ know a lot about medicine, do we Doctor? My first thought was ‘get Martha down here’ – and int that nice? That I’d trust her to know more about what’s bothering the poor human flailing in pain than the Doctor? The ship were a fab set, the lighting and especially music a brilliant touch. All-in-all, a lovely piece of Saturday night entertainment.

Almost blubbed when Martha phoned home. Just cos her mam had a go, cos she wasn’t impressed. But hey, that’s what Martha wanted, int it? Her mam to be just like normal? So in a way, that’s what she got. And then the Doctor made me gasp like he’d just admitted he were actually really French, rolling around shouting “I’m so scared!” Scared of what, exactly? Letting it take him over? Letting it kill everyone and not being able to stop it? Or re-generating again? Or re-generating and still having that thing rattling round inside? Martha was ace, and I don’t think it were her bedside manner that came through, trying to soothe the beast in the stasis chamber. Good girl!

She had some fab scenes this time round, so it’s no wonder he’s finally given her her own key. Although, that does kinda put a spanner int works ~ I believe I mentioned in fan-fic (looooong story, mate) that he thinks she already has a key. Ah well. I knew writing a story any time throughout ‘Doctor bloody Who’ would be a minefield, what wi mentioning things and not mentioning things. Ah well. Dunt really matter. I could just adjust it and say it happened after this one, and not the one before. Sorted. And in case anyone’s interested, the link fert reading said fan-fic (rated K fer all ages ~ sorry, nowt ‘adult’, you’ll have to make do wi the ol’ Disney-flick ‘only an adult would get that joke / reference’ material) is HERE. One word will make you read it. No, not one. Six. Six little words ~ just six. “Black Chucks for a black tux”…

Back the episode then: one little thing niggled ~ the poor TARDIS neglected again, left standing all alone in some sauna, about to be melted to a lump of– whatever TARDISes are grown from. Poor old girl. One day she’s going to get her own back. Or is that why she constantly bounces them around wi all the in-flight smoothness of an Aeroflot flight? Ah…

So we’re back to normality again. 45 mins of shiny shiny fun, then back to it. Dad’s birthday on Wednesday of next week, followed by Buddha’s birthday on Thursday, followed by Intergalactic Towel Day next Friday. What, you didn’t know? Oh no, no, no ~ you just forgot, right? Make sure you carry yer towel on May 25th ~ I’ll have mine, don’t you worry.

I think we’re done. I have stuff to mark and student reports to write, after all. And Confidential to watch on BBC3. Coming next time ~ students say the funniest things…

EDIT:
I should be a happy bunny, but no. I find that Blogger’s updated Save thingy now precludes me ‘Preview’ option from working (on Safari). According to their site, they’ve already fixed it.

WELL CLEARLY YOU HAVEN’T, COS IT STILL DOESN’T WORK.

Remind me why I’m using Blogger again?

Tags:
Doctor Who ~ Martha Jones ~ David Tennant ~ Freema Agyeman ~ TARDIS ~ Eastenders ~ William Ash ~ 42 ~ Douglas Adams ~ THHGTTG ~ Towel Day

Tiananmen, the Bible, the usual rant

Oh dear me, where do I start? Well, here in Hong Kong, Ma Lik has put his foot in it stating that the Tiananmen Square ‘massacre’ in 1989 was not technically a ‘massacre’, and he’d thank HK school teachers NOT to keep calling it such. Ouch. Just a tad before June 4th anniversary, is that. Have to say though, he does a lovely line in quotes:

“How could people say bodies were minced under tanks? Has anybody tried mincing meat under tanks?”
“I never said nobody was killed, but it was not a massacre. A massacre would mean that the Communist party intentionally killed people with machine guns indiscriminately.”
“It is not something that teachers can teach whatever they want about. Are we saying [what happened] should be decided by gweilos [foreigners]?”

Just fert record, I stay away from teaching other people’s history and politics. I do English language. If people ask me about historic events, or just events in history even, I tell em to ask their dad. It’s not my place.

However… A lot of kids here in HK go to schools established and run by religious outfits. St. Stephen’s Boys’ School, St. Anna’s Kindergarten, St. Peter’s, etc… So when in class, I do not come out wi ‘oh my God’, cos [1] I don’t have one and [2] I don’t want kids to go round saying this and people asking where they’ve picked up such comments in English (this is where the old ‘oh my dog’ came from). I have never held with religion and likely never will, so in class I avoid the topic at all costs. I will not discuss it in class, purely because it’s a Pandora’s Box of problems. And again, I’m an English teacher, not a social commentator.

My private life is a different matter, of course. I am an atheist, and so it delighted me to look int paper yesterday and see the headline ‘Is the Bible indecent? HK officials have 208 complaints saying it is’. Well, had to buy the rag after that, didn’t I? Story in a nutshell: some anonymous website has asked the Television and Entertainment Licensing Authority to “re-classify the holy text as an indecent publication”. Apparently they believe that stories of incest, rape, murder, sacrifices, cannibalism and good old fashioned violence should not be taught to people under 18 years of age. And I agree, in principle. But then, am I biased?

So here’s my five bob about religion then ~ and this has been a long time coming. Anyone who believes or does not like to read people mouthing off at their chosen/assigned religion should look away now.

Actually, I move we ban all religion from the world. It shall be illegal to worship any god / deity / idol of a religious nature until further notice (this does not include Sean Bean on the grounds that he’s not an actual deity, contrary to popular belief). No-one shall attend places of worship, sell or buy religious matter or literature, and stop harassing me ont MTR or coming to me door to try and convert me. Of course, yer free to do this in underground, secret meetings and such (save the conversion attempts). And we’ll make a half-arsed attempt to find you and pretend to give you long jail sentences. But really, we just want you to get religion off the streets and back inside yer own homes, where it’s meant to be if you believe in that kind of thing.

And no religious protesting, no marching or carrying on wi killing people cos they don’t believe in your spin on the Bible / ‘holy book’ or some such god. Don’t start wi that, or I’ll start marching as an atheist, protesting at me having to put up wi all yer shite about the above, when I don’t even believe in all that crap. Why should I be put at risk from bomb alerts and religious protest marches when I don’t believe in ANY religion, save ‘live and let live’? Why do I have to put up wi you lot whining and complaining and going out trying to murder people cos they have different religious views? What are you, five? You never learnt to let people do what they want so long as they leave you alone to do what you want? I mean, fuck’s sake people, if two kids can play nicely and share a fucking PSP, why can’t grown-ups stop getting tetchy over which (and I move to insert the word ‘fictitious’ here) god you believe in? I don’t care who or what you fucking believe in, just don't punch some bloke int face cos he dunt believe it too. Crikey Blimey fucking Charlie, grow up.

Er, that's it, I think. It's the weather over here, you know. It makes me say nasty things and want to stab people in the eye with a blunt pencil every time they start going on about socio-political bollocks. I need to get me iPod charged, and get some Arctic Monkeys and Little Man Tate down me. I’ll be much better. Oh yeah, and go to work! Almost forgot about that…

Coming up soon ~ a review and a few changes to our fantasy league of Royal Marine Commandos!

Soopytwist.

Tags:
Tiananmen Square ~ Ma Lik ~ the Bible ~ religion ~ Sean Bean

All quiet on the TV front

No ‘Doctor bloody Who’ this weekend, then. And I’ve got to be up at 7am tomorrow ~ on a SUNDAY ~ to go to work fer Parents’ Day. So an early night and no fags or whisky, then. Yeah right.

It’s Saturday night
I’m feeling on song.
I think I’m alright
I know I’m all wrong.
The drink that I had
Three hours ago
Has been joined by fourteen others
In a steady flow.
So let me walk straight
Don’t let me feel pain.
I’m going to scratch cars
With my key again.
Cos when I go home
And fall on my bed
If it doesn’t leave my stomach
It’ll split my head.

So fixed me burning VCD problems, then. Fannied about wi all kinds shite till I realised that all you need is love Burn on a Mac. Just call me a spanner, eh.

Saw the Tennster / David Tenninch Tennant on Parkinson, which is worth watching purely for the “my face on your crotch” quote (and, like half of the UK, I am now wondering just where I might purchase said underwear…).

That’s it. I’m off. I’m pisht and need me bed now.

Time fer bed, said Zebedee.

Tags:
The Proclaimers ~ David Tennant ~ Parkinson

You ARE taking the piss

Right. It’s mid-week and already I’m willing and able to smash the next fucking thing that doesn’t Do As Told, or kill the next person as stands on me feet. Let’s back up and start again.

I had a great weekend ~ a great weekend. Went out on the lash and got a free shot from the barman I’ve been working on fert past two weeks in boca. Bestest mate Lill’see lit a fag for me cos I couldn’t get the bastard thing to light int air-con, and I think that made it look like we’re together. Yeah, like I should be so fucking lucky. Anyway, also watched ‘Doctor bloody Who’ and ‘Human Traffic’ (fer about the sixth time in me life). Loved it. Monday morning, went to work, no problems. Except. The kids. I normally have a lot of patience fer kids, seeing as they don’t really have a clue about the worlds in general. But this week I just seem to have zero tolerance fer whiny voices going, “Teacher! Teacher! His elbow touched my elbow!” In me head I’ve got that Homer Simpson-esque voice going “Do I look like I give a fuck? Fucking push him back! What the bloody hell do you want me to do about it?” Not good, right?

Tuesday, same. Wednesday – don’t ask. Today? Murder is ont cards, I tell you now. I never could get the hand of Thursdays, in an Arthur Dent kinda way. And it’s showing. Thursday morning (just) get ont bus. I’ve found all me shrapnel and I’m going to pay the HK$3.40 fare wi it, not me Octopus card. I get on Citybus’ number 10 double-decker, drop all me change int fare box, and of course, the first fucking coin defies the laws of gravity and gets stuck int top. Which means all the other coins (nine, to be precise) ricochet off it and shower over the driver and the floor. I apologise and we get them all up and into where they should be. I get up to the top deck in me usual seat and find the TV is bloody loud. What am I, deaf? Why the fuck the bloody TV is blaring out to an empty top deck is beyond me. The rest of the deck starts to fill, and one person goes back downstairs and asks for it to be turned down. For whatever reason, it isn’t. I’m already steamed and ready to smash it in wi me foot. Instead I turn up my iPod and am very grateful when Arctic Monkeys’ ‘Favourite Worst Nightmare’ starts up. Bloody marvellous.

Get to the stop and I get off. Waiting to cross the road, people standing on me feet and pushing into me as if I’ll give like tissue paper. Riiiiiiiight. How the hell a 12-stone girl could give like tissue paper I’ll never understand. I stand me ground and it almost amuses me to see these self-important pedestrians bounce off me. They give me dirty looks like it’s my fault. I bawl, “Excuse me!” at them and they ignore me and rush off. Wankers.

I get inside the Sheung Wan MTR station (and why, for the love of Sean Bean’s arse, is it called ‘Sheung Wan’? Do you hear a ‘SH’ in that name? No. So why is it spelt like that in English? So I call it sHoup? sHnakes? Fuck off!). I go to the Hang Seng ATMs. I queue and I’m there in about 5 mins. I put me card in and find that, after I’ve wasted my fucking time putting int code and choosing options, the only fucking notes it’s carrying is HK$1,000 ones. Yeah, cos it’s Thursday lunchtime and obviously no fucker’s refilled the machines. And it couldn’t bloody well tell me till I’ve already wasted my bastard time. Mid-week? Mid-week and no fucking HK$100? What the fuck is going on when you can’t even get HK$100 from an ATM? And it’s not just one, it’s all three of the sodding machines. I know, cos I was fucking gullible enough to try em all.

Then Goh-Goh rings me and I’m already in a black mood. I rip me card out of the bastard machine and storm off down the escalator to the train platform. We chat and I’m starting to feel better. The train arrives, I get on. He hangs up, I go back to me iPod. Train stops at Central station. Everyone and his brother’s entire estranged family get on. And here it starts, folks. A bag in the eye. “Oi ~ OUCH!” at the bird and she turns and realises the soft thing her bag’s annoying is actually the organic material I need to see with. No apologies, she just shuffles further away. A boot on top of my foot. I lift me foot with enthusiasm and the owner nearly stumbles. And he looks at me, cos obviously it’s my fucking fault.

Get off the MTR at me station, find the two ATMs are similarly neglected staff-wise, and find meself with exactly HK$24.60 to buy lunch. I manage it (ta, Circle K and yer tray lunches). I get me lunch to the office, open it all up to find the fucking wanker didn’t put a fork in it. I go back to Circle K and demand me fork.

Now I know what yer thinking. She’s just a girl, she’s probably all PMT or summat. Well fuck you lot, cos I ent and it’s downright fucking rude of people to assume so. Every time I feel like killing someone, I get the same fucking loathsome, pitying look off people that think it’s all down to ‘girl’s problems’. Riiiiiiight. You think I’m bad now, you wait till I really AM all PMT’d up. The area under me sink is starting to smell, and it’s not the drains.

And on top of all this, I have a Parents’ Day on Sunday. Oh yeah, I have to give up 3 hours (5, if you include travelling time) on my only day off. The very night after ‘Doctor bloody Who’ will not be showing. How happy will I be to repeat endless fucking platitudes and meaningless comments to parents who expect just one ninety-minute lesson will turn their average kid into the next world genius? I predict… absolutely not at all.

And that’s it. I’m off to play some really loud music (yeah, at 10.30 at night) and praps watch an episode of ‘Firefly’, although I really don’t want to cos that’ll make me feel better instead of fuelling the rage. Which I’m really int mood for, truth be told. I could just go back to wasting my fucking time trying to burn a VCD, which, between ffmpegx and VCD Builder, just isn’t working. Yeah, cos I fucking love blundering about wiowt any instructions or insight, wasting four nights in a row trying all different settings and only finding out if it works or not after I’ve burnt the fucking bastard thing ~ which doesn’t work, of course. Yeah, that amuses me. That makes me laff. Oh yeah.

That’s it. I’m going to find some loud music to play.

Tags:
Hong Kong ~ Citybus ~ MTR ~ hang Seng ~ Circle K ~ PMT ~ Parents Day ~ ffmpegx

Take-backs and Throw-backs

First, a quick apology:
I stated in me last post about ‘Doctor bloody Who’ that I’d heard Dalek Sec’s line “if you choose death and destruction, death and destruction will choose you” before. I couldn’t place it, and I have to admit I’ve spent a few idle moments wondering if I had actually heard it before, or if I just got it muddled after having got up at 6am to watch the sodding episode int first place.

Well it seems I’m half-right and half-wrong. I haven’t heard that exact line before, but I had heard summat along the same lines. And it was indeed Muse, from the track ‘Knights of Cydonia’, on their fabbest of the fab album ‘Black Holes and Revelations’:

Come ride with me through the veins of history
I’ll show you a god who falls asleep on the job
How can we win when fools can be kings
Don’t waste your time or time will waste you…

So, sorry Helen Raynor, love as wrote that last episode, I promise I’ll not doubt the writing team again.

And so to last night’s episode of ‘Doctor bloody Who’; ‘The Lazarus Experiment’, aided and abetted by a multitude of screencaps, of course...

Nice name-dropping ~ several hundred references to Mr Harold Saxon, and even a sinister Man In Black (well, alright, it were a posh function and everyone were in black) telling Martha’s mam that the Doctor were a dangerous individual. A bit like the rest of the episode, it were a reminder that sneaky-sneaky catches monkeys ~ it weren’t the loud running-around-screaming-saving-the-world noisy bits that made me like this one (although they certainly helped), it were the small moments. The look on her face when she realises he’s parked the TARDIS in her bedroom, ‘Martha’s theme’ hovering int background, the tux, the “science geek? What does that mean?”, the Mill and their fab effects ont outside of that dodgy capsule thing, the “been busy doing… stuff”, the tux, the “oh Martha Jones, you’re a star!”, the “nice shoes”, the “well! You were never really just a passenger, were you?”, the tux, the “take this, setting fifty-four” ~ he gave her his screwdriver to use: he gave her his screwdriver to use…

Ah me, eh? Loved the re-appearance of one Thelma Barlow, who really should have slipped the old “curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!” in there (as Wash once said). Mark Gatiss was fab, the first meeting between the Doctor and her mam was a treasure, and all-in-all, a great time was had by all (ten-year-olds). Shows that once they’ve stopped jamming two-parters and story arcs int middle, they can snap back to good old-fashioned action-comedy-adventure-sci-fi-tragedy very well. Loved it.

Also nice to see they could put him in a monkey suit, but they couldn’t separate the good Doctor from his black Chucks… Although I’m sure about a million fanboys (and girls) will be dwelling on the trapped-int-too-tight-a-space-together scene. I did like the Austen Powers moment where he admitted he’d just slammed them into the capsule thing so he could have time to re-group and come up with another plan. Nice. And so too were the organ-playing ~ although, come to think of it, when were the last time he had to open that screwdriver wi his hand, let alone his teeth? Nice touch though.

Martha shows, again, that she int to be ignored or ridden over rough-shod, and more points to her fer doing so, I say. But what was all that about at the beginning? Was that his ‘if she fights for it, I’ll let her have it experiment? And she didn’t, so he didn’t, and left? Did he really just come back cos some strange bloke ont telly made some crackpot statement as intrigued him? After all, he could have just been spouting off about having redesigned underwear.

And the trailer ont end ~ woo-hoo! I’m a trailer whore, everyone knows that, so that wee slice of the entire rest of the season went down very well wi me. Captain Jack, Mr Saxon, body-alterers, scary-lary cultish freaks, scarecrow monsters ~ they were all there! Can we wait for all this and the big hyowj John Simm v the Tennster bish-bash-bosheroo showdown season-ender? Can we bloody hell!

I’m not going to go on about the fact that next week’s show’s been postponed fer some poxy attempt at campety and off-key singing. I’m just going to wait them out and rediscover that DVD collection I've been ignoring ~ and that live thing, what's it called? Oh yeah, telly. And amuse meself making more wallpapers.

That’s it then ~ see you midweek. I’m off to use me new toy ~ I joined the 21st century finally and replaced me rice cooker wi a better model.

Soopytwist.


Tags:
daleks ~ Dalek Sec ~ Muse ~ Helen Raynor ~ BBC ~ Doctor Who ~ Martha Jones ~ David Tennant ~ Freema Agyeman ~ Chuck Taylors ~ John Simm ~ John Barrowman ~ Eurovision Song Contest

Wednesday Wonderings

Woke up this morning, wanting me breakfast… and then, as I stood there int kitchen, waiting fert kettle to boil, a hundred ideas hit me at once. It hurt, as a plethora of good ideas should do, and I wondered about said questions while, a short time later, standing int bank waiting to pay me rent. So, answers ont postcards, or just int comments section, to the following:

‘Doctor bloody Who’ episode 3.5 ~ Dalek Sec, realising he’s about to be annihilated or close-to, says summat very wise: ‘If you choose death and destruction, death and destruction will choose you.’ Fab line ~ but I think I’ve heard it somewhere before. Lyrics from a Muse song? Summat Father Matthew said to someone in ‘The Lakes’ TV series? Some random line from an obscure B-movie I’ve seen recently? A translated quote from Homer, or Herodotus, or someone similar? Just can’t work it out…

Why won’t my Samsung E-908 (E-900, if yer outside Hong Kong) vibrate and play the ringtone at the same time when some bugger’s calling me?

What’s that gold shiny building thing that looks like Professor Zarkov’s rocket from ‘Flash Gordon’, int middle of New York?

Do we need another Star Trek film? Bearing in mind that this one will be an odd-numbered one…

Why are Disney Hong Kong claiming they’re showing movies in 4D? Isn’t the fourth dimension Time? So aren’t all films already shown in 2D and 4D? Or am I just over-simplifying some hyowj great scientifically immense idea and the people who hype these films are right? Kinda?

Is ‘pre-ja vu’ the feeling that you’re about to have been here before?

Can we call Gliese 581c ‘New Earth’, please? Just to satisfy the geek in all of us?

Why do people keep saying “revert back to”? Isn’t that like saying “going back to back to”?

Ah well. That’s it, really. Other than to pimp my growing archive of Wallpapers Of The Week over on my sister-ship (alright, so it’s really only a Starbug to this Sulaco, but at least it flies).

Just a short one today, then. Breathe easy, folks, I’ve nowt to get upset about. Just yet.

Soopytwist.

Tags:
Doctor Who ~ Muse ~ B-movie ~ Samsung ~ New York ~ 4D ~ Red Dwarf ~ Aliens ~ Disney ~ Flash Gordon ~ Star Trek