Archive for June, 2006


Billie Piper to leave Doctor Who!

Now, OK, I don’t intend to have a pop at Piper herself, per se; as far as playing woefully misguided feeble-brained characters goes, she’s made a fairly good fist of it, but I ask you…

Since when did saying things like

“O, a paralel universe in which people who aren’t even slightly my parents exist! Time to go bugger about and say ‘hello!'”


“O, we’re in 1987, the year my father died – better go fuck with causality!”

ever entitle you to hang about time-travelling? Surely everyone knows basic Rule No. 1: “Don’t kill your own grandfather”.

It’s reasonable, therefore, to expect that everyone remotely involved with actual time travel likewise knows it’s important not to save your own grandfather since, as Fry so helpfully explained, it buggers about with causality.

Add to that her recent habit of saying things like “O, the TARDIS has been put out of action for the second non-related episode in a row, what a tragedy, hey, Doctor, let’s go fuck” and you begin to wonder why the Doctor doesn’t just buzz back to 1963 and dump the stupid girl back in the scrapyard where he first got himself lumbered with the equally frustrating Barbara Wright…

I don’t object, as such, to Billie Piper playing the part of Rose, but if they will go making Rose such a tooth-grindingly whingey hormonal wazzock I don’t see how they expect people to get fed up when they say she’s leaving then series.

O – and as for last week’s “All lifeforms have a deep-rooted imagery of the Devil, it’s a really basic part of conciousness” rubbish from the Doctor as he descended into the, uh… the “Pit” [Aye, that big hole with the demon thing that kept posessing people…] Well Christ, if I was Nigel Kneale and watching that I’d’ve smashed the television…

In other news…
I’m still in Newport. Joy.

Football continues to be dull as anything, mainly because all the matches look basically the same, but with faintly different jumpers.

‘s about it, really, except that UWA haven’t given me my Hafan desposit back yet, and the Midland are starting to sulk at me.


Heading back to Aber on the train & running Pink Floyd on the iriver… I’d forgotten how amazing The Trial was…
That said, I am on a huge red-bull-and-coffee buzz…

So here I am again…

…having left the seaside delights of Aberystwyth for the rural tranquility of Shropshire (Or, at least, where the rural tranquility of Shropshire would be but for the orange glow of Telford on the smog-laden horison).

Hoy. You would not believe the number of funny looks you get for taking a TV on a bus. I mean, honestly…

…Of course, I wouldn’t’ve had to take a TV on a bus (or on the train either) if the man who designed the Corsa hadn’t thought “Ooh, let’s make a back seat that is all in one bit and doesn’t fold down to allow three people in the car with part access to the boot,” but we can’t expect everyone to have a fervent desire not to be shoved head-first into a rusting petrol tank, now, can we?

Repeated thanks to Dan & Claire for helping with the scouring of Hafan – ignoring the several days packing prior to Saturday, and the packing of the Rev’s excuse for a half-sized car in the morning – it took as long to finish off packing, moving and cleaning out bits of the caravan as it took Ruth to get back to Colburn. In Yorkshire. 231 miles away.


Thanks also to Paul for taking Ruth & I to Little Italy on Friday night. (Which I mention mainly to remind him that we’re going to pay for him to live in Stratford for a bit this December).

Once back in Newport I spent an afternoon moving stupidly heavy toolchests. Again. I now have little burst blood vessel / stretch-mark things on the sides of my shoulders. I’m fed up with moving things.

Still, it’s all done now, except for getting back all the stuff that’s still at the Place, and which is probably going to make Operation Collaborative Cottaging marginally harder than it would otherwise have been. Sorry about that.

Uh. So, yeah. I’m back in Newport again. Just thought I’d update to let everyone know I haven’t ended up in Manchester or some such distant place by mistake.

Have fun!