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rotatingwobblyhat.bsky.social
Brain farter. Weirdo. Gadgeteer and inventor of nonsense.
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I’d been led to expect that Paul Darrow in Timelash would be nothing short of Frankenfurter-esque extreme high camp flamboyant excess (rumoured to be as a ‘tit-for-tat’ for when Colin Baker was in that one episode of Blakes 7 as Baben the Baby Eating Bishop of Bath and Wells). It really wasn’t.

If I was surveyed for Family Fortunes for their ‘We asked 100 people to name something you put on your hair’ I’d be unable to stop myself with the statistical outliers. BRYLCREEM. TURQUOISE SETTING LOTION. BUTTERMILK. STUDIO LINE EXTRA FIRM GEL. SPUNK REMOVER.

Nominative determination for this Portuguese underwear shop.

Rewatched Dr Who: Claws of Axos tonight. Remembered the golden gods/godesses, remembered the shambling spaghetti monsters, totally forgot about the talking dangling bollock giving them the orders.

Dear pre-teen girls. Sorry but being a vetinarian nurse, while a legitimate profession, is *not* just spending 8 hours a day stroking kittens and puppies.

We’ve seen shows where Icelandic glacier trekkers and desert dune racers spray the inside of a dislocated tyre with lighter fluid, chuck on a match and the whole thing magically goes WHOOSH and pops back onto the rim, but let me tell you it doesn’t work with a flat Spalding basketball in the shed.

If they did a ‘Confessions of…’ film thesedays, it would have to be Confessions of an Amazon Delivery Driver. He’d have 150 shags a day but they’d have to be no longer than 18.6 seconds each.