Winning
I once won a gas boiler from The Guardian. Tell us about times you've won, and the excellent and/or crappy prizes you've lifted.
Suggested by dazbrilliantwhites
( , Thu 28 Apr 2011, 14:08)
I once won a gas boiler from The Guardian. Tell us about times you've won, and the excellent and/or crappy prizes you've lifted.
Suggested by dazbrilliantwhites
( , Thu 28 Apr 2011, 14:08)
« Go Back
Doctor Who '82
As a very self-conscious and awkward ten year old finishing up primary school, Dr Who meant a lot to me. I was completely obsessed with Tom Baker's final season, and entered a WH Smith competition to meet him. To everyone's astonishment, I won (my father still has the newsagent's local paper 'Prestwick Girl Meets Dr Who!' poster in his shed).
For whatever reason, the publishers organising the competition didn't get round to giving me my prize for ages, about a year. By this time I had moved to my horrible comprehensive secondary school, and Peter Davidson was the Doctor, who was great, but not my Doctor.
Finally, they came up with the goods and my mum and I were on the sleeper to London. I still can't believe from the pictures what my parents made me wear. Seriously, I was eleven years old and,let's face it, auditioning to be the youngest doctor's companion ever. But there I am in the pics, with a hideous boy's haircut, and a free- the shame- adult male's tshirt advertising guitar strings from my father's music shop, along with a large pair of khaki shorts (boys), brown sandals and bare hairy legs.
Down into the bowels of television centre, and into a vast black space, filled with people anxiously wrapping foam mattresses with silver foam to make space mattresses. A big rubber monster had his head off and we were warned not to photograph him (for what, I wonder now, in 1983- to sneakily auction to the TV Times?). And, in the far corner, standing outside the iconic box as if he'd just popped straight down, was a tall man wearing a stick of celery on his lapel. Of course I responded brilliantly by immediately burst into tears.
As the Doctor politely posed for pics I asked, of course, to see inside the TARDIS. He looked at me kindly. "Son" he said, "I think you'll be very disappointed."
*
You can imagine how cool all this made me at school. That's right: not at all. It was hell. And I had another five years to get through. Thank God for Russell T. Davies and how times have changed. And I have worn my hair long ever since.
( , Sat 30 Apr 2011, 18:36, 3 replies)
As a very self-conscious and awkward ten year old finishing up primary school, Dr Who meant a lot to me. I was completely obsessed with Tom Baker's final season, and entered a WH Smith competition to meet him. To everyone's astonishment, I won (my father still has the newsagent's local paper 'Prestwick Girl Meets Dr Who!' poster in his shed).
For whatever reason, the publishers organising the competition didn't get round to giving me my prize for ages, about a year. By this time I had moved to my horrible comprehensive secondary school, and Peter Davidson was the Doctor, who was great, but not my Doctor.
Finally, they came up with the goods and my mum and I were on the sleeper to London. I still can't believe from the pictures what my parents made me wear. Seriously, I was eleven years old and,let's face it, auditioning to be the youngest doctor's companion ever. But there I am in the pics, with a hideous boy's haircut, and a free- the shame- adult male's tshirt advertising guitar strings from my father's music shop, along with a large pair of khaki shorts (boys), brown sandals and bare hairy legs.
Down into the bowels of television centre, and into a vast black space, filled with people anxiously wrapping foam mattresses with silver foam to make space mattresses. A big rubber monster had his head off and we were warned not to photograph him (for what, I wonder now, in 1983- to sneakily auction to the TV Times?). And, in the far corner, standing outside the iconic box as if he'd just popped straight down, was a tall man wearing a stick of celery on his lapel. Of course I responded brilliantly by immediately burst into tears.
As the Doctor politely posed for pics I asked, of course, to see inside the TARDIS. He looked at me kindly. "Son" he said, "I think you'll be very disappointed."
*
You can imagine how cool all this made me at school. That's right: not at all. It was hell. And I had another five years to get through. Thank God for Russell T. Davies and how times have changed. And I have worn my hair long ever since.
( , Sat 30 Apr 2011, 18:36, 3 replies)
I hope you at least took the opportunity to give Adric a solid kick in the nuts.
( , Sat 30 Apr 2011, 23:05, closed)
( , Sat 30 Apr 2011, 23:05, closed)
« Go Back