- Mood:
- Listening to: my carpet
- Reading: a tin of mushy peas
- Watching: everything, just to be sure
- Playing: with me bellybutton
- Eating: bogeys and toejam
- Drinking: weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
- so, I've found a great use for my newly-gotten cellar, namely stuffing it full of the various computers that keep giving up the ghost 'round these parts. I'm sure they're not dying of neglect, but anyway...
Personally, I reckon it's a bit of a conspiracy - there are five of the things down there now, and I think they're just gathering strength to figure out how to do that artificial intelligence thing and then start taking over the world, skynet-fashion. All these sorta things start in people's basements. That's probably a semi-scientific fact.
- so yeah, been absent without sleeves for a bit, managed to get back on at last a week or so ago, though it's taken me a wee while yet still to get on with it proper as far as doing the Joda thing goes - 'ere I be now, though, mind. You probably noticed, what with this journal thing kicking in with the big obvious boots of it.
Anyway, there they are, them machines down there, doing gigawatty gobbledigook and ioioioioio-ing all over the place like the seven dwarfs (~ves? I've never been sure. Snow might know, but apparently she's in kip-city, so we'll have to leave it 'til the ending happies itself along princewise, just so long as we get there before the nooky starts, we'll be laughing. Hopefully. Here comes another bracket, mind yer nut)
...meanwhile, they're no doubt working their way up to the terminator question - chiefly concerning, I'm sure, just exactly how they can make such constructs usuing only the contents of the other boxes full of crap down in my cellar... maybe if they bone up on the A-Team and a bit of Blue Peter, they'll be able to chuck summat together and start the armaggeddon-ride, you never can tell with these poshed-up bloody calculators - don't think they'll be quite so striking as the Arnie-exos, though, since they're pretty much limited to bits of old tellies, aerials, crap-for-christmas-gadgets and similar stuff: I think right about now just about the nastiest effect they could achieve with that little lot is maybe knackering my carpets with the terminators' clicky-clacky skellybog feet - which, granted, might well pee in my teapot - philosophically speaking - but wouldn't exactly be very scary, nor indeed particularly life-threatening, excepting perhaps the potential for tripping on the stairs being upped by a quotient of maybe a bit. In fact, they're probably cursing the foolishness of the first crash-comp down there for having chosen such a poor location as a start-point. Now, if they'd been running at some sort of manufacturing plant, car-factory, something along those lines, I might be worried - but right now I reckon they wouldn't even get up the first lot of stairs out of the cellar, a bit like the Daleks before the recent revelation of that little flying trick they dood. But I digress. Quite a lot, as it happens.
So, on with the bullshipt and onions, and yes, that's a deliberate p: thus are the thems that's meant I haven't been doing my do's around here for a while, neatly now resolved by a new little boxotrix that's (so far) doing what I want, rather than whatever wonts it might want to wonder about; and in the meanwhile I've neem - or even been, please excuse my headbackwards moment there - getting to grips with greenstuff, and not at all just for the purpose of throwing in that particular little bit of alliteration, although of course, it did come in handy for exactly that. Nahh, what I mean are (be, is, etc.), I've been having a bit of a bash at doing some of the stuff I do but only less so, inasmuchas doing it littler - though still hacking away at the bigguns too, inamongstthatandeverythingelse, as it were.
or in other words, I've been having a go at doing some miniatures, i.e. 28mm-scale figures (think Games Workshop sorta things, only not, and you might have some idea - though knowing me, who knows?) - not yer common-or-garden bloke-with-sword or so-called 'adventuring' female dressed somewhat dangerously in little more than the old chainmail bikini, but more along the lines of some of these daft things I do already - namely anthro-type-critters - but done in small, chiefly 'cause there don't seem to be all that many of such things about, and it's nice to be different. That's what the doctors tell me, anyway.
But anyhoo, I've so far got started on versions-in-littleness of that frog-assassin fella o' mine, also the Hamster chap with the gun, as well as a few of the starting-standards such as orc, ogre, troll; done a bit of a werewolf (well, all of him, but he's only a bit of a werewolf, if you see what I mean), started on a dinosaur or two, and I'm having a crack at a couple of dragons too... several bits and pieces are already at the moulding stage, meanwhile though I guess I might just get around to slinging some pics up in the old scraps-bucket so you can see what I've been wrecking my eyesight with most recently. Also this all means I need to at some point start getting on with doing a website-thing for setting 'em off from, so yes, it's looking like the year is already starting off with too much to bloody well be getting on with, ah well...
Speaking of the New Year and all that, hope your variously-differing methods of dealing with the season all went well - had the slight surprise around crimbo-ish of seeing my old turtle-discworld thing on the telly, so that was weird (as in, on a programme on the telly, not just actually on the telly, like the cat often is, on account of it being a nice warm spot to sit). Don't like to be one of those name-dropping sorta folks, but it was just quite a surprise to see it, so there you go - one Terry Pratchett's tale of The Hogfather got done special for telly, and bugger me but there was my model in an ever-so-brief blink-and-you-missed-it shot as the camera panned through the big toyshop, flippineck. At least, me and several other folks who saw it at the time certainly thunk so - we might be mistook, so don't count on it. And no, there were no perception-altering substances involved at any point, thankyouverymuch. Of course, this means I will be buying the diddlyviddleo tootsweet and capturing one of them digital-things with me best beartrap so I can persuade meself I was right and that it's the rest of the world that's mad, haharr...
Anyway, I'm off - toodlepip.
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