Archive for August, 2007

We are now on speaking terms

A baby’s first words are funny things. I have it from reliable sources that my own was “more” - a rather telling insight into my future gluttony. Even more revealing was my brothers first word: “mirror”, which in turn was closely followed by his second, third, and forth words - “Heyyy, lookin’ good!”

Evan’s first word is “ta” (A British word meaning thank you for all you non English speakers). He has other forms of communication of course, a chortling “hur hur hur” when he sees something he want’s to eat, an outraged “Bah!” when his sister snatches his toys off him for the bazzilionth time, and a weird baby crocodile like noise that means… well I’m not sure what it means, but he does it a lot so it must mean something.

Sure his first word could have been more heartwarming (”Daddy”), informative (”hungry”), or controversial (”Mark Hamill sucks chives”). But “ta” is pretty good. It’s polite, short, and to the point, and won’t be an embarrassment to him in later years (Kerry’s first word was “wobblebottom” unfortunately).

What’s more, when taking him to high class restaurants we will be sure to receive admiring glances from our fellow diners, who will talk in hushed voices about what a delightfully well mannered young man he is. Oh yes, a true social sophisticate.

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Telemarketer Prank Calls

Telemarketer Prank Calls. A rather effective way of dealing with nuisance calls.

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away

The Holmes over at, erm, The Holmes has thrown down the gauntlet to his readers, challenging them to participate in possibly the most ambitious blog contest the internet has ever seen. A competition so epic in scale that I’ve heard Beijing is bidding to host it next year. A contest so breathtaking in its audacity that the winner will also be awarded the Nobel Popular Culture Prize by default. Yes, the rumors you’ve heard are true. The Holmes has asked us to completely recast Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope.

I’ve already risen to the challenge in his comments section, but my contribution was rather off the cuff and not properly thought through. Inspired by fellow Holmes reader Camikos I have decided to revise my entry here on my own blog. After all it saves me having to think of a proper post to write.

Without further ado I present the Star Wars Episode IV: Ultimate revised digitally enhanced directors cut special sauce edition.

Luke Skywalker - Elijah Wood

elijah-devil-sized.jpgWith his portrayal of Frodo Baggins Elijah showed he is able to move a character believably from innocent rural bumpkin to conflicted and determined hero. Of course all that stuff with him and Sam traveling through Mordor was incredibly boring, but that was Tolkien’s fault not his. Give him a light-saber and a few X-wing lessons and he’d be perfect for the part.

Han Solo - Nathan Fillion

mal.jpgIt’s pretty obvious to anyone with half a brain that Nathan Fillion’s character Mal in Firefly was pretty heavily influenced by Han Solo. In fact, you could put up a pretty good argument that he was superior to Han in many ways: A trenchcoat is cooler than a poncy waistcoat no matter which way you look at it. Plus Nathan is already circulating around the all comic and sci-fi conventions, so he will already know all the tricks. Like putting lavender oil up your nose before meeting and greeting the geeks so you don’t get overwhelmed by the smell.

Princess Leia Organa - Pheobe Cates

phoebe_cates.jpgThe choice of who plays Leia boils down to one essential question - who do you want to see in the slave girl outfit in Return of the Jedi. My initial choice for this was Angelina Jolie, but after careful consideration I have decided that while she is an attractive young lady, she does not hold a candle to the delightful Ms Cates. Oh Pheobe, my joyous saviour throughout my dank dark adolescent days. Of course it would need to be a younger version of her, but according to Holmes that is within the rules, so that’s ok.

Obi-Wan Kenobi - Jet Li

Jet_Li.jpgIt is very difficult to imagine anyone but Alec Guinness playing Ben Kenobi, and so I’ve gone for someone who might give a different take on the character. In particular I never felt that Ben’s fight scenes were as spectacular as they could have been, and Jet Li could certainly add a bit of oomph to proceedings. He’s currently 44, so I’d probably use Holmes’ patented age manipulation machine to make him 10 years older. He might complain about loosing 10 years of his life, but I’d let him sit next to the 20 year old Pheobe Cates during dinner breaks, that should keep him quiet.

Darth Vader - Mark Hamill

615827921.jpgAgain a character which it is hard to envisage anyone other than the original actor portraying, but we have to try. Someone who sprung instantly to mind was Tay Zonday, the rather strange young man behind the internet hit Chocolate Rain, but i’m not sure anyone could take him seriously. Mark Hamill has proven himself to be a talented voiceover actor, proving he can do evil by voicing the Joker in Batman: The Animated series. His inclusion is just the kind of in-joke the fanboys would love. Plus he needs the work, poor guy.

C3P0 - John Cleese

cleese_narrowweb__300x382,0.jpgCleese would bring a slightly more maniacal property to 3PO’s pomposity. In addition he’s also proven that he’s willing to step into other peoples shoes by taking the role of Q in the Bond films (not very successfully in my opinion, but still). I’m not convinced he could carry off actually being in the suit however, he’d probably need a body double for that one.

R2D2 - Yamaha PSR-E403

r2.jpgThe PSR-E403 comes equipped with 116 panel voices, 12 drum/SFX kits, 361 XGlite voices plus 15 arpeggio voices. Included in this selection is stereo-sampled Piano, a selection of Sweet! Voices including Trumpet, Flute, Pan Flute, Soprano & Tenor Saxes and Cool! Voices including Galaxy Electric Piano, Organ and Rotor Organ. It also plays Hey Jude on demo mode.

Other casting suggestions:

  • Chewbacca - Robin Williams. Man that guy is hairy.
  • Yoda - Layla Sutcliffe
  • Wedge Antilles - Me. Back in the early days of the internet my chat room handle used to be Wedge. Yes, I was very very sad indeed. The guy who played him, Dennis Lawson, is Ewan McGregor’s uncle you know.

So there you go. Now I want to see your own suggestions. Don’t put them in my comments section though, head over to The Holmes and do them in his. Or better yet put them on your own blog and link back to him. Lets create a meme people.

Dogsitting

We looked after my Dad’s dog Holly over the weekend. You may remember that Holly actually used to be our dog, and it was surprising how quickly we fell back into having her around the house. For Evan it was all a new experience however. He took great enjoyment crawling around after her and pulling out great clumps of fur from her ears, and Holly was admirably stoic in her tolerance.

Every now and again however Holly would hear what she took to be a horde of thieves and murders outside, and go on a bit of a barking spree. This sudden sound terrified poor Evan and he would burst into panicked frightened tears. Despite our reassurances that the alleged thieves and murders were actually only the postman he would be totally inconsolable for two or three minutes, only calming down when distracted by spotting some revolting object to stick in his mouth. As a result we tried to keep Holly as quiet as possible.

“I’m just going to take Holly and the kids out for a W. A. L. K.” I told Kerry, spelling out the final word so as to avoid the dog twigging what was on the cards and going bananas.

Amy looked up. “Yes. Daddy and me are going to take Holly on a D. I. U. Cock”.

“A what?!” I asked her, trying not to catch Kerry’s eye.

“D. I. U. Cock” she repeated exasperated. “It means a walk Daddy”

Now I know I’m dyslexic, but I’m sure that’s not quite right.

We had joy we had fun

When I was around fifteen years old my friend Paul and I spent nearly an entire summer sat on the roof of my house armed with a pair of binoculars. As well as a wonderful place to catch the sun’s rays the roof also provided an excellent vantage point to see into the centre of the village. Of particular interest to us was the view we had of a double-glazing shop.

I’m guessing that double-glazing shops do most of their business by appointments. The casual shopper is probably rather unlikely to just pop in on a whim and walk out with an entire set of new windows they didn’t really need. Therefore the shop assistant was relatively untroubled by customers and, as that summer was a particularly pleasant one, spent much of his day sunning himself on the steps of the store.

Or at least he would have done if Paul and I had chosen to do something productive. But we were young and full of joyful malice. Instead of spending our holiday riding bikes, exploring the countryside, and experimenting with alcopops like any normal teenagers, we chose instead to torment another human being to the brink of insanity.

The salesman would emerge from his shop and settle himself down on the steps. We would then get my Dad’s cordless phone and ring the store. He would stand up and turn to go inside and answer the phone, at which point we would immediately hang up. He would settle himself back down again, and once he looked really comfy we would pick up the phone and ring him again.

And repeat.

Initially he tried to rush inside before whoever was trying to call hung up, but after a while he got wise to us and started attempting to ignore the phone. You could almost taste his raging internal battle every time we rung: “Is this a genuine caller? Or is it those bloody bastards again?”. Eventually man’s primeval urge to answer a ringing telephone would win through and he would wearily stand up. At which point we hung up again. Oh the fun we had.

We performed other jolly japes with the phone that summer. One favourite was ringing a particular phone box next to a bus stop. When a random member of the public answered it we would tell them that we needed to talk to our friend who should be there waiting for a bus. Then, looking through the binoculars, we would describe someone standing at the bus stop (maybe the man in the purple t-shirt or the woman with the wonky hat). When the poor victim went over to tell the person there was a call for them we would hang up and watch the ensuing confusion.

Yes, we were complete bastards.

No doubt karma will eventually bite me in the arse and I myself will fall victim to a caller asking for Mr I.P. Freely. But something somehow tells me it will be worth it.

Apologies to readers of Toast Ambassador who will have heard this story before

You were laughing at my helmet hat

I have a theory that there is one thread that links all of the great philosophers throughout history. They each had chronic bowel problems. Socrates, Plato, Spinoza, Nietzsche; each and every one of them spent countless hours sitting on the toilet lost in contemplative thought, their concentration broken only periodically by the need to make little “nnng” straining noises. It is my belief that the sole reason there are no truly great modern philosophers is the proliferation of high fibre breakfast cereals and newspaper’s Sunday supplement magazines.

I was sitting battling with my own intestinal blockage the other day contemplating my own mortality when I began to wonder when I would see my last otter. It is entirely possible that I may realise when I have my last meal, or see my loved ones for the final time, I might even get enough advanced warning to compose my last words (I’m favouring “ To infinity and beyond!“ at the moment). But I’m unlikely to recognise when I see my last ever otter. I mean, you don’t really see them that often anyway – maybe in a zoo or something, but that could be years away from my death. Similarly, when will I have my last glass of red wine? I don’t even like red wine so I could well have already had it. A sobering thought.

The time is fast approaching when I will no longer be able to throw Amy in the air and catch her, she’s just getting too big. In a few years this will be true for Evan too. There will be a point in the future when I no longer read the kids bed time stories, or give them baths, or put them in their car seats. My life as it is now will be shed like old skin, replaced by new routines and experiences. And while I look forward with optimism to what the future holds, it still makes me a little sad to see my past disappear behind me.

Saturday Review

A (so far) regular look at what sort of stuff I’ve been consuming this week.

Podcast: Adam and Joe

1197085.jpgI’m not the biggest fan of podcasts.  I tend to find even the most popular ones a little too amateur for my tastes.  I appreciate the irony of this, and am well aware that my own lacklustre podcasting efforts have been far from professional. But when it comes down to it I’d rather be listening to Radio 4  than some married couple trying to be funny in their basement.  However since I won my iPod (I did win it, I did) I’ve been re-experimenting with the genre and I have stumbled across a jem. 

It would of course be a little unfair to classify the Adam and Joe podcast as amateur. Adam Buxton and Joe Cornish are both professional comedians and their podcast is made up from clips from their XFM radio show.  Saying this however the podcast does have a wonderful ramshackle quality to it; Adam and Joe are childhood friends and this shows through in their free flowing easy delivery and banter.

The pair were cult TV comedy gods during the late nineties with The Adam and Joe Show (you can find clips on YouTube). While they haven’t exactly disappeared off the radar (both were in Hot Fuzz for example), it’s been a little more difficult to get a regular dose of them of late. The XFM podcasts unfortunately seem to have dried up towards the end of 2006, but they are currently are doing a showcase for new UK music for Coca-cola. The XFM stuff is just sparkling and the coca-cola is pretty nifty too. Take a look.

Behold! The mighty Boots, slayer of wasps

This is a wasp’s nest. The wasps are relatively content and going about their daily business.
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This is a wasps nest after I’ve stuck in a pipe and pored petrol down it. The wasps are not very happy at all.
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This is a wasp nest with a piece of burning paper being stuck into it. The wasps are momentarily going to die a fiery and torturous death
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This is what all the best dressed beekeepers are wearing this summer.
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These photo’s were taken using the timer on the camera. Which is a good job really as it’s quite hard to take a decent picture when you are running away flapping your arms and screaming like a girl.

The explosion when I set fire to the petrol wasn’t particularly earth trembling. I am therefore a little concerned that it may not have been powerful enough. As I type there may well be hideously scarred survivors surveying the smoldering remains of their former homes, vowing never to rest until they have wreaked their terrible vengeance upon me.

I am considering investing in a mosquito net.

Urban Ecological Subversion

Urban Ecological Subversion. The Art of Guerilla Gardening in Public Spaces. A bit like graffiti, but with plants.

Things my girlfriend and I have argued about

Things my girlfriend and I have argued about. Of course Kerry and I never argue.