People, people people. Prepare thineselves (is that a word?, yeah, I'm sure it is) for a disappointment. It is, as I look at my calender here before me, Wednesday, and yet I have no musings of a televisual nature to share with you. I know, I know, it's a crying shame, but what can I do?
The only shows I've been watching since last I spewed forth my witless drivel, er, I mean sage words of wisdom, are The Net, True Blood, Blade... You know, the ones I've talked about the last couple of weeks and have nothing new to say about. Actually, that's a lie because I've also watched an episode of Forever Knight and last night I cast my critical gaze over the S2 premiere of The Vampire Diaries. You see my dilemma there though, right?
So what do I talk about? Well, I'm gonna tell you a really funny story. Well, a mildly amusing story. A story, anyway. It goes a little something like this:
Once upon a time, in a land called County Durham, there lived a boy. The boys name is not important but we shall call him Paul. This boy was devilishly handsome, as all heroes are, and exuded an air of casual awesomeness in his every action. The boy had only one failing, yes only one, and it was that he was completely useless when it came to computers. Didn't understand them at all. Which is why his online usage was confined to a couple of blogs (which he barely knew how to operate and were appropriately spartan), a twitter account (he was terrified by the looming form of the monster known as newtwitter, but that is a different tale) and membership of a discussion forum based around a comic he read.
It was on this very forum that Paul heard the wondrous news. At first it seemed too good to be true. He could scarcely believe his eyes. But there it was, in black and white, staring at him from the screen. Someone had posted a message, spreading the word that the discount merchant known throughout the land as Poundland was selling DVDs of Robocop:The Series for a mere £1 each. Several separate volumes with multiple episodes on each. Well, this was sheer poetry to the ears of Paul, for he was on a Quest (had I mentioned that part of the tale, I may have forgotten, sorry) to view every episode of every sci-fi show ever made. These DVDs would be very helpful indeed in his noble endeavor.
A problem though! Whereabouts would he find a vendor affiliated with said Poundland? He was unaware of any in the near vicinity. The answer was obvious, he would call upon the knowledge of his Sister, for if there was one thing that could be relied upon in the topsy turvy world of County Durham, it was that Pauls sister would know the answer to any question that had 'shop' in it.
And so Paul rang his sister and enquired of her the location of the nearest Poundland outlet. But what was this? Scorn, mighty and full of much meaty profanity. Whatever had our hero done to deserve such treatment?
Well, as it turns out, there was indeed a Poundland store in the very town Paul did all of his shopping in. Not only that, but it was situated directly between two specific places that he regularly used and directly opposite another. It seems that not having noticed it, given this somewhat obvious location, made him something of a fool in the eyes of his sister. Suitably chastened and feeling rather humbled, Paul had a bath and went to bed, this being his habit of an evening.
Saturday morning arrived. Paul was unaware of this because Paul does not rise before noon on weekends.
Saturday afternoon arrived and Paul prepared himself for his mighty pilgrimage to the next town. His goal, procurement of the kiddified, cheapified and bastardized offspring of a classic movie. His obstacle, pissing down rain and gale force winds. Undaunted, he set out. Now,I could, at this point, regale you with the many and varied travails of our intrepid hero but I fear that any attempt to describe the horrors he endured would sorely tax my descriptive prowess, not to mention curse your sleep with nightmares for at least 42 weeks, at a conservative estimate. Suffice it to say, it was the longest 37minutes of Pauls life.
Upon arrival at his destination, bedraggled but unbowed, our hero didst meet with a further problem. The storefront upon which he was casting his manly gaze did not cry out in bold font
Instead, and much to Pauls dismay, it read,
while several doors further down stood a store bearing the name
Could it be? Could the all knowing sister, so full of contempt for Paul and his 'stupid questions', have gotten it wrong. In any other field of expertise Paul would have no trouble believing such a thing but when it came to shopping? Surely not. She must just have been a little confused. So Paul set off, intent on finding the store he was looking for. An hour later, even more bedraggled and pretty resolutely bowed he realised that the truth could no longer be denied. She was wrong, no Poundland store existed in this town.
Vindication was his but scant compensation could he find in it. He had journeyed far and wide and faced oh so many dangers, not least the way the rain was making his hair all sticky-uppy at the back, and had naught to show for his ordeal. There was truly nothing else for it; he fell to his knees (getting his jeans all wet in a puddle), raised his arms to the sky and called out the most bloodcurdling of screams to the uncaring Gods. Then he went for his lunch in the cafe and caught the next bus home.
So there you have it. Had things been different I might have had a bit of something to say about Robocop but sadly you have been denied that rather dubious pleasure. We'll just have to wait and see what makes itself available for next weeks post