You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Profile for paulieg:
Profile Info:

none

Recent front page messages:


none

Best answers to questions:

» How nerdy are you?

Actually, now I think about it ...
I am a nerd, and this is the clincher: I went to the Edinburgh premier of the re-jigged, re-released, digitalised and generally messed with Star Wars: A New Hope back in '97. There was a fancy-dress competition for this screening, with prizes presented by none other than Sean Connery's brother. Really.

So, I love Star Wars, and felt the need to show this, and after much deliberation decided on a costume which would demonstrate to the world just exactly how much love a man could have for a film. I was going to go as the Death Star. I got the official Star Wars (TM) Death Star companion technical manual, one of those big round paper lampshades, some Airfix model paint, a coat-hanger and a miniature 2 inch scale model of the Millenium Falcon.

I painted the lampshade grey, then added detail, lights and shadow with black and silver paint. I even managed to make the big planet buster laser bit look like a dip by judicious use of shading.

I cut a small horizontal hole near the base to see out of, and the lampshade sat quite happily on my shoulders (i.e. my head inside the lampshade). For the piece-de-resistance I used the coat hanger to suspend the mini Millenium Falcon from the side of my lampshade/Death Star so it looked like it was flying in. Class.

So we went to the film. On arrival, it was very busy (sold out I think, but of course we'd had our tickets for ages). My companions had also partaken in the fancy dress competition, so I was accompanied by Luke Skywalker (in his pyjamas) and the lovely Princess Leia. Of course, I could see sweet FA out of the helmet despite the gap I'd cut in it, so I was led into the auditorium by my friends, taking a couple of people out with the dangly Falcon on the way.

The fancy dress competition was before the film, and we were invited one by one to parade before the audience and judging panel (the aforementioned Sean Connery's brother and the cinema manager). When it was my turn I staggered to the front and apparently (for I could not see) received a standing ovation from my fellow Star Wars nerds making up the audience.

I won (admittedly partly due to the weak field of 2 Lukes, 2 Leias and me) and was invited to make a speech. Sean Connery's brother (I'm sure he has a first name but lets face it, he is probably only ever known as Sean's Connery brother) shoved a microphone into my vision slot, and I said the now legendary (at least to my mates who were there), "That's no moon, it's a space station". The crowd went wild ("like a million voices cried out ..."), I got two free cinema tickets, a complete set of Star Wars pogs (really), and the respect of my geeky peers. Oh, and to meet Sean Connery's brother.
(Thu 6th Mar 2008, 12:46, More)

» Winning

Pogs, and meeting a celebrity's non-famous sibling
Apologies for pearoast, from the "How nerdy are you?" QOTW:


I am a nerd, and this is the clincher: I went to the Edinburgh premier of the re-jigged, re-released, digitalised and generally messed with Star Wars: A New Hope back in '97. There was a fancy-dress competition for this screening, with prizes presented by none other than Sean Connery's brother. Really.

So, I love Star Wars, and felt the need to show this, and after much deliberation decided on a costume which would demonstrate to the world just exactly how much love a man could have for a film. I was going to go as the Death Star. I got the official Star Wars (TM) Death Star companion technical manual, one of those big round paper lampshades, some Airfix model paint, a coat-hanger and a miniature 2 inch scale model of the Millenium Falcon.

I painted the lampshade grey, then added detail, lights and shadow with black and silver paint. I even managed to make the big planet buster laser bit look like a dip by judicious use of shading.

I cut a small horizontal hole near the base to see out of, and the lampshade sat quite happily on my shoulders (i.e. my head inside the lampshade). For the piece-de-resistance I used the coat hanger to suspend the mini Millenium Falcon from the side of my lampshade/Death Star so it looked like it was flying in. Class.

So we went to the film. On arrival, it was very busy (sold out I think, but of course we'd had our tickets for ages). My companions had also partaken in the fancy dress competition, so I was accompanied by Luke Skywalker (in his pyjamas) and the lovely Princess Leia. Of course, I could see sweet FA out of the helmet despite the gap I'd cut in it, so I was led into the auditorium by my friends, taking a couple of people out with the dangly Falcon on the way.

The fancy dress competition was before the film, and we were invited one by one to parade before the audience and judging panel (the aforementioned Sean Connery's brother and the cinema manager). When it was my turn I staggered to the front and apparently (for I could not see) received a standing ovation from my fellow Star Wars nerds making up the audience.

I won (admittedly partly due to the weak field of 2 Lukes, 2 Leias and me) and was invited to make a speech. Sean Connery's brother (I'm sure he has a first name but lets face it, he is probably only ever known as Sean's Connery brother) shoved a microphone into my vision slot, and I said the now legendary (at least to my mates who were there), "That's no moon, it's a space station". The crowd went wild ("like a million voices cried out ..."), I got two free cinema tickets, a complete set of Star Wars pogs (really), and the respect of my geeky peers. Oh, and to meet Sean Connery's brother.
(Thu 28th Apr 2011, 14:41, More)

» What nonsense did you believe in as a kid?

Running
I believed that if I really practised hard I could become the best in the world at running really fast around corners, and that by the time I grew up it would have become recognised as an olympic sport and I would be champion.
(Wed 18th Jan 2012, 16:15, More)

» Messing with people's heads

Zombies, paranoia and dogs on wheels.
I used to share a flat with a very good friend of mine, who we shall refer to as JP, for they were his initials. It was mid 90s so the playstation was our main source of entertainment. Now JP loved playing the "Resident Evil" games, but I could never fathom out why, as he was (and still is) one of the jumpiest, twitchiest mo-fos I've ever met. Many an evening I'd have retired to my room to hear JP's weeping from the living room as yet another zombie dog had leapt through plate glass and ate his face. In the game that is.

So, being the kind, warm-hearted kind of guy I am, one particular evening as JP was popping to the loo mid-zombie hunting, I wished him a good night as I was going off to bed. BUT. I did not go to bed. I instead hid behind the sofa. And waited. And he came back, sat on the sofa, and continued playing the game. And I waited. And about twenty minutes later, as the game was becoming particularly tense, I slowly rose from the behind the sofa with that low zombie moan sound that means they want braaaaaiiiinnnssssss.

He jumped, in fact, I swear to this day he actually rose two feet clear above the chair, hovered briefly, before diving across the room, controller flying and leads tangling, screaming like a girl.

This reaction set me off on a course of making him jumpy and paranoid at every available opportunity throughput the years, much to my amusement: lots and lots of sneaking up on him unawares; leaving him wrapped around various items whilst sleeping (e.g. one of those push along toy dogs on wheels you'd get in the 70s); helpful answer phone messages such as "Behind you!" and "Did you leave the iron on?"; patiently waiting inches from his face so he'd wake up to me staring at him; whispering his name via a baby monitor whilst he slept to freak him the fuck out. You know, the usual.

For the rest of our time sharing that flat he would always check behind the sofa before sitting down. I suspect he still does it now despite me living 200 miles away.
(Fri 13th Jan 2012, 14:34, More)

» Vandalism

Soap
It was at a house party during my student years: the party was rocking, loads of people milling about, busy busy. Me and my partner in crime snatched a bar of Palmolive soap from the bathroom and had sidled our way up to the microwave in the kitchen. We opened it, popped the soap in, and set the timer to two minutes. Off we scooted, sniggering away.

I was convinced we would get away with it, even when the smell of cooked soap drifted rapidly through the room and caught us up, making me laugh so hard a little wee came out. An exodus started out of the kitchen as people were overcome by the stink. I waited in the hall trying not to laugh, but when the microwave "pinged" tears were streaming down my face.

You see, this is what happens to soap in a microwave: it heats up, and starts bubbling, and thus expands. Pretty much to fill the available space. When the heat source stops, the soap, well, sets, for want of a better word. You've seen the inside of a mint Aero? Well this is what the microwave looked like. I was reliably informed that it took several hours to chip out, and that three months later anything cooked in the microwave still tasted a little bit soapy. Wrong wrong wrong.

P.S. Having experimented I believe Palmolive soap gets the best results. Don't try it with imperial leather, unless you like firework displays.
(Tue 12th Oct 2010, 14:23, More)
[read all their answers]