Me cookie’s crumbled

I’ve finally found a bloke I really like. He’s thoughtful, helpful, knows how to really make me laugh, suave when he wants to be, clever, and not afraid to give me a big Doctor bloody Who style hug if he thinks I’ve missed out on one today. And you know what’s coming next, right? Yup, he’s leaving.

He’s been here just about a year, I think. We didn’t get on at first – always the way, eh? I’d tell him to sit down, he’d run around. I’d ask him his favourite colour, he’d tell me it were ‘ice-cream’. I’d tell him to finish his colouring and he’d jump up and bite my arse. And over time we developed our now famous ‘I brought you a biscuit but I ate it’ routine. Ah, good times.

But that’s it. Today’s his last day. Then he moves from the kindergarten class year 2 to year 3 – but not with me. He’s moving house to Kowloon, and that means a new school will have to get used to and play with him. It’s just not fair, I tell you. He’s my friend, and I want him back.

Anyway, my suffering aside, I do have a few good things to mention this week. I’ve seen the kinda new iMac and really, really, really want one. It’s fucking lush. So yeah, I want one, but it’s HK$9,500 (around GBP 594), so I’ll be saving up fer that int next six months.

Then me and Flatmate went and watched The Invasion last week. Apart from having to tell the two US girls on holiday next to us to shut the fuck up wi their bloody moaning, it were really good. Well, we enjoyed it, anyway. Two US girls just moaned about how they couldn’t follow what were going on. I’m reserving judgement on their inability to follow a coherent story line longer than two minutes long, but you can pretty much imagine me response, I think. Anyway, Daniel Craig were fab and Nicole Kidman were really cool. Clap of the week goes to the wee boy as played her son though – what a bloody hero!

And then to a hidden gem which you lot in Blighty have probably seen about four times already on some arse-end of an ITV channel: Secret Smile. Sat through parts one and then two straight after, and thought it were cracking. Really, really enjoyed it. Always thought David Tenninch Tennant were a small boy on red Smarties, but now I know he’s actually a full-blown fucking James Blunt* evil bastard psycho – when he wants to be on telly. Gawd, he’s good.

And then we had a phonics class at work, an’ I asked all the wee’uns to write down all the words they knew that had a ‘spl’ in it. So they did. Now, I ask you, what the fuck is ‘spleeful’? We had a great time, her trying to justify the word (‘it means you’re full of splee!’) and me trying to stop laffing long enough to ask her what it were all about, Alfie (‘so what is ‘splee’ then?’). A quick conflab wi me Flatmate later via SMS (she were working int other branch) and she put forward the idea that ‘spleeful’ is how you feel after watching either Captain Jack Harkness or Doctor number Ten do summat particularly characterly. I disagreed, ont grounds that that were actually ‘squeeful’. The debate continues to rage.

And that’s yer onion. No, shallot. I have to try and hammer out this latest ‘Doctor bloody Who’ fan-fic. Oh, almost forgot: latest Wallpapers of the Week are up too. A student request this week – a looooong story, my friends.

Soopytwist.

* James Blunt = cunt (rhyming slang)

Tags:
Hong Kong ~ teaching ~ students ~ iMac ~ The Invasion ~ Daniel Craig ~ David Tennant ~ Secret Smile ~ phonics ~ fanfiction ~ Captain Jack Harkness ~ Doctor Who

Mine, I tell you, mine!

It’s been a looooooong week. I haven’t posted me usual mid-week rant, mostly cos I’ve been Busy. Proper Busy. Which basically means pub quizzes, new hardware, phone calls, ‘Doctor bloody Who’, and fan-fic.

Pub quizzes – finally managed a win last night! Woo-hoo! Granted, there were only five teams as the pub were a bit sparse (being Sunday night, and the last of the holidays, I spose), but we did come FIRST, as opposed to the usual ‘also-ran’ placement.

Then I were naive enough to believe that if I bought a micro SD card, it’d go in me Samsung E-908 (E-900, if yer outside Hong Kong) and everything would be hunky-dory. But no. This is me we’re talking about. The bloody thing has crashed my PHONE three times, when the phone has pitched a fit being unable to format the new thing, and then, dear readers, it did the unthinkable. Nay, the inexcusable. It made my Mac hang. I spose, strictly speaking, it didn’t actually crash it, as everything else worked fine – iTunes was still playing away, Transmission still transferring like a demon. But Finder was fucked, unable to move or get past the mini-kaleidoscope wheel thingy. A re-start via the power button was the only way to separate it from the bloody thing.

So yeah, not very happy wi it, really. I think it’s the phone, knowing that I want a lovely shiny new Nokia N76 (which, just in case you were wondering, still IS NOT supported by any kind of Mac-version of PC Suite, but happily IS supported by the third-party made Fonelink software). Fuck it, I think I’ll just get a MotoKRZR maxx K3. Looks suitably Star Trek.

Which brings me to ‘Doctor bloody Who’ and Marianas Trench-grade wells of disappointment. Everyone int known Universe, wi the possible exception of me mate who hates ‘Doctor bloody Who’, of course, knows that Peter Davison has been ‘asked’ to re-appear as the Doctor – alongside Ten, of course. Now, imagine my excitement. Imagine Han Solo and Captain Mal Reynolds in the same ship. Or HAL 9000 and Marvin. Or Captain Jack Sparrow and Captain Jack Harkness. Or Zoë Washburn and Kira Nerys. Then you might well appreciate my excitement over Doctors Five and Ten being in the same TARDIS.



And then the excitement is short-lived. Daring to imagine that this might be the two-parter hinted at in other rumours and supposed spoilers, I let my squeeeage reach maximum levels before I told meself to get a life and go back to work. Then of course the Sun breaks this preposterous story that in fact, Peter Davison is only back for a quick Children In Need special (a la Chris Eccleston into David Tennant regeneration). How gutted was I? That they’d go to all the trouble of getting Five back, and then only have him in there for one quick almost-story? There are no words, mate, no words. Mind you, I’m still getting over the fact that I always thought Five was MY Doctor, and then a few months back an inadvertent slip of the tongue revealed that my subconscious had already elbowed him in favour of Ten, without even telling me. Rude, I know, but there it is.

That and fan-fic – which, at this point in time (no pun intended), the less said the better. If I were marking it fert kids at work it’d probably whack a ‘must try harder’ stamp on it. Ah well. I have time.

And that’s about it. Have to get breakfast and go to work. And then off to the second pub quiz of the week. ‘Tis a busy life, make no mistake.

Peach and lube everyone.

Tags:
Nokia ~ Samsung ~ Hong Kong ~ Motorola ~ Mac ~ Peter Davison ~ Doctor Who ~ David Tennant ~ BBC ~ fanfiction

Stuff

Seems I’ve been neglecting me amazing kindred spirit and One As Should Be Read, Four Dinners recently, and while he were off having triple-double-super-sprint-hyowj heart operations, I were worrying about insignificant stuff like pub quizzes and shite. So here we are, 4D, this bastard big couple o bottles are for you!

… or rather, I drank em in yer honour, knowing yer a wee bit poorly and shouldn’t be doing wi dirty habits like drinking. You know you shouldn’t. Be told. Anyway, hope yer all better soon! Don’t make me come over there wi ancient Chinese medicine (the kind as comes in large green bottles wi strange, elliptical labels ont front).

And now to me usual shite: ‘Doctor bloody Who’. Someone’s made a hyowj great mistake, and it’s probably fair to say the sound of that mighty clanger dropping has been heard around the globe. Yep, the Beeb and their associated press bods have ordered all shops around the world to recall every single copy of the 2008 Doctor Who Annual. Why? Nobody knows. Suffice to say, if you managed to get one before the panicked jumping up and down from’t Beeb, give it a good squiz and then tell me what the mile-wide gaff was as made em scream in terror and get em all back in. I find it interesting that all copies are to be destroyed once received back. Hmm… Series 4 secrets? Casting bloopers? Accidental copyright infringement? Or did it just have ‘Doctor How’ written ont cover? We may never know…

And now for something completely different. Kinda. Remember the American thirst for UK telly? Remember em buying rights to make a US version of the fantasmagorically squeeeable hit ‘Life On Mars’? Ah. Now then, cos me big sister knows I write about shite, she’d alerted me to a certain news article. Seems none other than that lovely chappie Colm Meaney (‘These aren’t just any stem-bolts – these are self-sealing stem-bolts!’) has been approached to play Gene Hunt (wi US accent in place, I assume?) and Jason O’Mara has already been signed up as the pain in the arse called Sam Tyler. Phew! It might just be alright… Maybe… Except, I can’t really imagine a US Gene Genie having a go in American – I mean, do they even have spaghetti ‘oops? Could he really go round there and stamp on all their toys? Are they so inept they couldn’t catch the clap in a French brothel? We’ll have to wait and see… And, to be honest, now that Colm Meaney’s in it, I might just have to watch it after all…

Anyway, just time to add that I’ve finally done some more updated Wallpapers Of The Week, and they’re up and ready fer yer amusement and ridicule. Talking of which, you can even while away the wee hours reading my latest ‘Doctor bloody Who’ fan-fic, if you so wish, as it is now finished, on Tinternet, and has received a handful of favourable reviews. Entitled The Half Fare and running to eleven chapters, I have to admit it kinda bent what’s left of me vodka-soaked brain trying to go back and write the beginning, once I knew what the end were. If that makes sense. Then again, I find so few things actually make any sense at all these days. Especially where I’m involved.

Anyway, peach and lube everyone, and an extra, extra specially hyowj dollop of hug-love for Four Dinners. Hopefully he’ll be back to his keyboard and regaling us wi more fab tales of hospital shenanigans shortly.

Soopytwist.

Tags:
Tsing Tao ~ Stoli ~ BBC ~ Doctor Who ~ Life On Mars ~ Gene Hunt ~ Colm Meaney ~ Sam Tyler ~ Jason O’Mara ~ wallpaper ~ fan-fiction

Ask and ye shall be snubbed

Yes, it’s ranty-rant-rant time again. Children, cover yer ears.

Let’s get to it, shall we? A while ago I called Samsung HK and asked them politely why there was no download on their website for their version of PC Suite for Mac users. I was informed, after having to speak to three different operators, that no software existed to sync your Samsung E-908 (E-900 if yer outside Hong Kong) with your Mac. Fine, I said, then I’ll buy a brand that does let Mac users join the conversation, and put the phone down.

Since then I’ve been looking fert said brand. You may as well try to find Fox Muldar shopping in the healthy food section at Morrisons. I saw a rather nifty Nokia N73 thing, and thought it looked groovy enough to accompany me on my travels through Life. So I went to the website and read up on it fore I bothered to even look at the price. Again, no mention of a Mac version of PC Suite. I e-mail Nokia and ask them nicely – I want to buy it, want to check first, blah blah blah. And I get a rather curious reply:

Thank you for your interest in the Nokia N73 handset.
With regards to your email, we regret to inform you that we do not have a specific version of the Nokia PC Suite for MAC computer at the moment.
The current version of Nokia PC Suite supports Windows 2000 (service pack 4), Windows XP (service pack 1 / service pack 2) or Windows Vista x32 and x64 editions.
We hope the information is useful to you. Should you have further enquiries, please feel free to contact our Careline at 2136 6338.

Useful? Well, certainly. If it ever comes up in a pub quiz, of course I’ll be the first one to write down that ‘no, Nokia do not provide any support for Mac, on account of them being short-sighted, arrogant, unhelpful wastes of space, content to alienate a fifth of their customers and piss off anyone stupid enough to try and make a Nokia work with anything but a heap of obsolete, fucking pain in the arse crappy unfinished software called ‘Windows’.’ I mean, I find the information ‘the number 10 bus does not observe this bus stop on race days’ useful too, and it’s got about the same connection to my Mac and Nokia’s inability and refusal to include Mac users in their little social circle as their bastard e-mail reply.

Not a happy bunny, as you can see.

So then I need summat to cheer me up. Let’s see… let’s see… Oh! Here we are!

‘You!’ (points to pic on left), ‘my room, 10.30! And you!’ (points to pic on right), ‘Join us at 10.45 – and bring a friend!’

Some good news though – even though the Beeb are displaying the complete series three Doctor bloody Who boxed set for released on 5th November, Amazon are offering the amazing series three with Limited Edition Lenticular Mister Saxon / Master Sleeve, exclusive to Amazon, apparently. Now me, being nosy, mailed Amazon (straight after pre-ordering it, of course) and asked why their release date says 27th November and why they have a supercool box while the boring Beeb have a, well, boring one. (Although I am rather peeved that series three only has the Master on it, not the Doctor or Martha on the back anywhere.) The reply I got was that Amazon are displaying the release date as 27th, but of course expect it in much earlier and will ship it ASAP. So no worries there then. No word on how or why they alone were allowed this cool sleeve though…

And so to more ‘Doctor bloody Who’ gossip. There were rumours that a fire had broken out in Rome, where they’d been prepping some filming for series four, but now I come to try and track down a solid link fert details, the story seems to have disappeared. Hmm. Praps it was simply mis-reported, eh?

And so to pub quizzes – yeah, we did the one in Carnegie’s the other night (and yes, that were us int corner who knew all the tie-break music answers cos they weren’t for us) and drew a lot of laffs for our team name (‘The Handmaidens of Boe’). However, the couple of hours afterwards spent drinking and talking codshit to strangers has left an indelible impression on the inside of me head, so I’ll be resting till next Sunday and Monday’s double-whammy, probably watching more ‘Torchwood’. And we’re off to see Gwen Stefani tonight, so that should keep me out of trouble fer a bit, eh.

That’s an onion, everyone. No, shallot. I have work to go to, small children to corrupt, teenagers to condescend to, you know how it is.

Soopytwist.

Tags:
Nokia ~ Samsung ~ Hong Kong ~ Amazon ~ Windows ~ Mac ~ kilts ~ Jack Harkness ~ John Barrowman ~ Doctor Who ~ David Tennant ~ BBC ~ Torchwood ~ Gwen Stefani

Inevitability

I like that word. It’s fun. It’s long. It’s got lots of ‘I’s in it. It’s not very good-looking, but I’ll bet it has a smashing personality.

Anyway, the point of it being me title is that I’ve finally got round to watching ‘Torchwood’. Me and Flatmate have basically done five episodes in two days. First impressions?

Not enough Captain Jack Harkness, but hey, it’s coming around. Gwen: fine. Owen: I quite like him, even though the rest of the world thinks he’s a twat. Tosh: apart from thinking she’s come a long away since ‘Absolutely Fabulous’, she’s doing the job. Ianto: poor bugger. Although he did get mouth-to-mouth from Jack when he nearly died, so can’t feel too sorry for him, eh.

To be honest, my reaction to the stories kinda went “meh”, “meh,” and “meh”, mostly in that order. Then the one wi the cyberwoman, and it did Drama with a big D, and yay, we did like. Then the poor wee Jack one wi the fairies and old loves. Aww, cotton socks, eh. So sorta getting into it, I suppose. Will watch the rest of’t series, won’t be too much of a chore. I do like the way you get a tiny, weeny snippet of Doctor’s Theme music every time they walk past the hand in the jar though, bwa ha. And the pterodactyl – loving the pet, yes. They showed ‘The Quatermass Experiment’ on BBC Entertainment last night, and we’ve clocked that the wifey of the last remaining scientist were the bird as played Suzie in ‘Torchwood’s pilot episode (the one wi the gauntlet and the knife). Which were amusing, as it turns out she’s having David Tenninch Tennant’s Doctor Briscoe ont side, tee hee. (Who wouldn’t? He’s got his own voice on and doing the Slightly Scruffy thing.) Mark Gatiss (Professor Lazarus) were the chief engineer bod, and even Brian from ‘Teachers’ turned up as a newspaper reporter. Can’t say fairer than that, can you? Not when Jason Flemyng (of ‘Bacon’ fame, etc.) were Quatermass himself. Can’t say it were as gripping as the original black and white version, but it did do no-nonsense British sci-fi on a Saturday night, so it were alright.

So, what else? Well apart from struggling through this week pretending I’m not completely wasted due to jetlag, not a lot. Got a T8 ‘tropical cyclone’ warning on Friday, which closed all the shops and businesses so everyone int territory could go home. Bloody marvellous! Spent the day eating, drinking and watching ‘Torchwood’.

Have also been struggling with fan-fic. Yeah, we’re talking the Doctor without Martha, after the fact. Can’t explain, too much to go through. Basically, fab new person + drama + mystery = much excitement for me. Except it all has to be explained int end – which I can do, but you can’t just have someone stand there and spout narrative for 1,500 words. It’s rude.

I’ll work it all out, I expect. At some point. Will bloody have to, it’s driving me nuts.

That’s about it, really. Time to go and eat something, as it’s going up to 6pm and I woke up at midday again.

Soopytwist.

Tags:
Torchwood ~ John Barrowman ~ Quatermass ~ Jason Flemyng ~ Doctor Who ~ David Tennant ~ BBC ~ Hong Kong ~ fanfic

View from the afternoon – or rather, seat number 34E

So I’m back, and I’m not completely jet-lagged. Spot the immediate lie.

While ont plane from Blighty back to HK, I were lucky enough to get this on-demand entertainment thingy (it were BA, but seeing as I’ve never suffered their service before, I wouldn’t know about these touch-screen thingies). Suffice to say, after a thirty minute delay whereby they had to reload the entertainment system cos it was bollocksed, I did eventually get access to what they advertised as three hundred films and TV programmes. This is after I’ve changed me headset twice cos it didn’t work, and complained that me seat were knackered an’ all – it would not stay upright. Seriously man, if I so much as let me back touch the seat it started reclining. Not good during take-off. Ever tried leaning against the angle so yer not touching yer seat? The words ‘snowballs’ and ‘Hell’ flashed through me head.

Anyway, these films. I was delighted to find that not only could I watch ‘Waitress’ (the ‘Nathan Fillion does not do horror or sci-fi’ flick), but I could also get ‘Hot Fuzz’, the Simon Pegg ‘actioner’. I also got ‘Shrek 3’, but never mind, eh.

So, reviews. I’ll dispense wi the ‘3 word summaries’ in favour of a quick paragraph on each.

Waitress first, then. The cast: simply ace. The deadpan deliveries from the waitressing trio of Keri Russell, Cheryl Hines and Adrienne Shelly (who wrote and also directed it, but tragically died in 2006), were absolutely fab. Very cutting, witty and true-to-life. Well, I imagine so if you live in the south of America and are working as a waitress, trapped in a loveless marriage and unexpectedly pregnant. Nathan Fillion does a fantastic job of just looking good enough to lick all over, and when he’s not doing that, he’s delivering lines with either hectic nervousness or suave abandon. *insert wistful sigh here*

Andy Griffith was superb, an' all. And although the plot were quite predictable and a little thin at times, I would recommend this to all me mates, seeing as they’re all girlier than me and watch this kind of slush on a whim, rather than being strapped into a Boeing 747-400 30,000 from the ground and having to choose between Nathan Fillion and yet another shitty US shoot-em-up.

Next!

Hot Fuzz then. Absolutely fucking ace. I can’t remember the last time I laffed so much at one film. It were witty, fast, edited by a demon and just all banged together so bloody well. The ending were a little weird, but I’m getting over that. The range of well-known faces and lines, not to mention film parodies (oh sorry, homages), just left me gasping. Fucking great entertainment, and all non-US. Can’t say fairer than that, now can you?

And so onto the disappointment – Shrek the Third. I weren’t expecting much, seeing as the last sequel were not quite so good as the original. But even then I were let down. The jokes and characters just kinda flew by wi’owt a smile or blink from me. Maybe it had summat to do wi me being ont plane, but I just couldn’t raise a laff. And this was after the excellentness that was Hot Fuzz. Nope, just not the entertainment it were supposed to be.

And so to other things, which you know are basically going to end up being about Doctor bloody Who. First off, again watched the 2006 Christmas Special, ‘The Runaway Bride’ last night, and have to say that I were right all along and Donna int such a bad bird after all. I mean, once all the imminent danger had been averted. She did tell him off for being a vengeful god of fury, and wasn’t as thick as Lance made out. So there. And she invited him in for Christmas dinner.

And then on to Stephen Moffat, who’s been reduced to leaving messages on Outpost Gallifrey’s own fan forums in a bid to quash rumours about the god that is Russell T. Davies leaving, and of course the series being axed after series four, and of course David Tenninch Tennant leaving. Oh, and James Nesbitt NOT being Eleven. Oh, and Dennis Hopper NOT being int series. Anything else? Oh yes – and this is a REAL DOOZY OF A SPOILER, people, so be warned:

According to The Sun (A.K.A. best source for sometimes kinda right, sometimes complete shite rumours), Sir Ben Kingsley – yes, you read that right – has been approached, nay, is being negotiated with right now to star in series four. As none other than Davros. See? I bloody well knew they couldn’t leave daleks alone. It had to be done. Couldn’t they give ‘em a rest for one series, and give us some new monsters/aliens to become iconic in another ten years’ time? Do we always have to dredge up the favourites? I swear to Sean, purr wee Davey Doctor is going to start getting a complex. No wonder he weren’t least bit surprised when the Master returned, when daleks are basically the New Who equivalent of toilet paper on yer shoe. Personally, I think Sir Ben being in it is a bit of an outside chance at best, seeing as he’s looking pretty booked up these days. When it finally gets rejected (or confirmed) by the Beeb on their jolly news page, I’ll believe it. I mean come on, even I could do with a rest from daleks fer a bit. I’m getting dalek-lash. (And now I’ve got that bloody song ‘Cush-lash’ in me head from ‘Jerry Ma-bloody-guire’).

Not spoiler-laden at all – but really rather touching – is Colin Baker’s account of bumping into them filming the 2007 Christmas Special in Cardiff (see, told you Wales were water-logged, arf arf). He dunt give owt away, but it’s a lovely read. I liked the bit about being ever so slightly jealous of seeing another, new actor playing his part and loving it as much as he had done. Aww, cottons, eh?

And I think I really should get to bed, cos I’m supposed to be making a vague attempt not to be a slave to my jet-lag.

That’s it then – peach and lube to them as deserve it.

Tags:
England ~ Hong Kong ~ British Airways ~ Waitress ~ Keri Russell ~ Nathan Fillion ~ Hot Fuzz ~ Simon Pegg ~ Shrek the Third ~ Doctor Who ~ BBC ~ David Tennant ~ Donna Noble ~ Catherine Tate ~ James Nesbitt ~ Dennis Hopper ~ Stephen Moffat ~ Sir Ben Kingsley ~ Davros ~ Russell T Davies ~ daleks ~ Jerry Maguire ~ Colin Baker

Trip! (Parte the First)

Well here I am, still recovering from the absolutely monumental weekend I’ve had. It were fantastic. It were unbelievable. It’s going down in history as The Best Weekend in Living Memory.

“Why?” I hear you ask. Well, let me tell you.

Saturday: train to dear ol’ Manchester, drink, surprise pub success, drink, walking the cobbles, drink, food, drink, and Arctic Monkeys.

Sunday: train to’t beach (and we’re talking the wondrous conglomeration of fun that is Blackpool Pleasure Beach), drink, rides, drink, sun, drink, beachfront, drink, trams, drink, cockles, drink, midnight train fiasco. Oh, and drink.

Monday: Metrolink to’t Museum of Science and Industry, Doctor Who Up Close Exhibit, Museum of Science and Industry Air and Space Hall, drink, walk the cobbles, drink, Deansgate, drink, Castlefield, drink, get lost in Piccadilly, drink, train out of Manchester, BIG drink.

Utterly fab. Completely marvellous. Wait, wait, wait, let’s back up and explain.

Saturday train – sleepin ont way, iPod charged, fab. Surprise pub success: The Rembrandt. If yer ever lucky enough to get to the centre of Manchester and want somewhere to stay where the people are friendly, the drink’s not too expensive and especially if you don’t mind being the only straight in the village, then The Rembrandt on Sackville Street (read ‘corner of Canal Street’) is the place for you. The staff were lovely, the beds were fantastic and the full English int morning absolutely bang-on. Good prices and good times.

Saturday night – good and bad times, unfortunately. Got to the LCCG (Old Trafford Cricket Ground, fert rest of us) int afternoon, and began the fifty-minute queue fert beer counter. Yeah, you read that right – fifty minutes. And in all that time, police turned up and tried to ‘calm the queue’ by standing at back and stopping more people from pushing into the back. Literally. If me and Granny W hadn’t been so wide, we would have been trampled, of that I’ve no doubt whatsoever. One bastard actually tried to skip round us, thinking he could jump the queue, but Granny W put him in his place. Physically. Well, he were a first-class wanker and she’s a Scot. Not a good combination, eh.

Anyway, gig itself were proper fab – missed Amy Winehouse (damn!) and Coral (meh), but got there in time for a thirty minute CD selection that I swear to Sean they’d nicked from me iPod. Suffice to say: ace. Then Arctic Monkeys themselves come trundling on stage to the tune of Rocky. Bloody marvellous.

What followed were about, ooh, I don’t know, praps two hours of sheer pleasure. We jumped up and down, shouted along to the songs, sang, and drank. Oh, and a load of un-funny wankers chucked half-full waxed paper cups of beer over the crowd. Nice. We did enjoy shouting the retaliatory: ‘You do that again an’ bloody well come back there and stamp on all yer man-toys! And no, I’m not talking about yer Transformers!’ But we did not enjoy getting doused in beer and rather warm, ammonia-smelling former-beer over the next couple of hours. However, the boys ‘emselves were fab, and we jumped around and had a great time. We even joined in wi the cheeky Yorkshire v Lancs chant (I’d like to think Lancs won), but did not join in wi the ‘you’re not singing any more’ song when the purr wee lads experienced a power cut. Cos obviously, she writes sarcastically, they meant for that to happen. Anyway, it were all sorted in a matter of minutes and they were back on track.

This is turning into an essay. I’ll leave it there, I think, and work out what I’m going to write next time… I’m thinking… Praps more Arctic Monkeys, and The Beach, the Pork Sandwich incident, the ‘Dude!’ incident, and of course, the ‘Doctor bloody Who’ exhibit – which does include stroking, giggling and squeeeing.

Until next time then.

Soopytwist.

Tags:
Doctor Who ~ Manchester ~ Blackpool ~ gay village ~ Arctic Monkeys