Posts Tagged With: doctor who figures

Have I Got Whos For You (February Made Me Shiver Edition)

This week in Whoville, there’s trouble in paradise.

This is from a film, right? They walk around wearing blindfolds for some reason. Is it like that bit in ‘Flesh and Stone’ where Amy has to navigate the Angels? Can someone enlighten me seeing as I can’t be bothered to Google this afternoon?

Elsewhere, it snowed, so obviously.

I was chatting to Christian Cawley on Twitter. “Having just finished PD’s memoirs,” he said, “Davison, Troughton and Pertwee pushing the snow onto Tom Baker might be more apt.”

“There were so many combinations,” I told him. “It was almost the Brigadier and Jo pushing the snow onto an unsuspecting Pertwee. I like the idea of Capaldi being caught out, but the real reason Baker and Pertwee are up there are simply because they’re the only ones who would balance.”

Still, you can’t keep a good Time Lord down. Not when there’s a big game on.

In case you were wondering, most of them are Falcon players. I went for the ones that were already transparent, as I couldn’t be bothered to do any cutting out. I have no idea if this makes any sort of statement on the quality of the game or the people that play it. I don’t even know what I’m looking at. I played an early John Madden game on the Sega Mega Drive but I never really got to grips with it; the whole thing seemed awfully stop-and-start. You will notice the Doctor is the only one not wearing any padding, and there’s a hint of sneering culture wars at play here: my feelings on American Football (or, as they call it, Football) aren’t exactly well-documented, except to say that over here we call it rugby. And we don’t use helmets.

But by the time you read this, of course, the Super Bowl will be a distant memory, because it’s all about Chinese New Year. Only with the Doctor, of course, it never goes to plan.

Gung hay fat choy…

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I can’t believe I’ve never noticed this before.

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In other news, I was tidying the lounge the other evening – shortly after watching ‘Time-Flight’ – and found these hiding behind the sofa.

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For obvious reasons, this amused me.

 

 

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Go figure (part iii)

In which: The Doctor Dances.

Those of you who’ve been following for a while may remember the galleries I produced a few months ago when we suddenly built a Doctor Who figure collection. There were two stages to this: Emily’s chance discovery of a bunch of figures in a local charity shop one afternoon (we bought the lot, more or less) and then, some time later, the eleven Doctors set that I bought from Amazon.

Yesterday it was damp, and none of us could be bothered to go anywhere or do anything, so we poked around the house. In the midst of assorted laundry duties I found myself with a creative itch to scratch and got round to doing something I’ve been planning on doing for some time: the Great Doctor Who Dance-off.

(Keep going through all the dodgy poses and you’ll find a few recent acquisitions at the end. But really, this is all about bustin’ some moves.)

The Fifth and Seventh do the robot.

The Thriller zombie mash

“Go greased lightnin’…”

Saturday Night. Note that the Tenth is incapable of doing the hand rolling, largely because of his arms. I should have put him at the back.

“MA-MMA-MI-A-HERE-I-GO-A-GAIN”

You can see what we were trying to do here.

The Bee Gees circle of funk

“Heeeeey, Macarena!”

The Dirty Dancing tribute was a partial success.

Last dance of the evening

The taxi rank outside

“It’s my last 20p, so we really should be getting home after this.”

“Seriously, that happy medium gag? What were you thinking?”

Updated group shot

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Go figure (part ii)

Those of you who’ve been here for a while may remember that two or three months ago I told you about Emily’s chance discovery of a horde of Doctor Who figures in one of our local charity shops; I also posted some photos of them all. Anyway, a few weeks ago I did something I’ve been meaning to do for a while, and finally spent my birthday money on this:

Oh, it is a thing of beauty. And one thing sort of led to another.

“You always insisted on calling me ‘the boy’ in The Five Doctors, but I’ve got at least two hundred years on you.”

“I can’t even tell you what I’m thinking right now.”

“All right, it was rubbish, and the half-human thing was a catastrophe. But at least I brought back the jelly babies.”

“Oh! The back of our head.”

The Doctors get down and funky for the annual Time Lords’ disco

“Someone really should tell Five and Six that breakdancing went out when Adric died.”

“If you’re supposed to be the superior race in the universe, why don’t you try climbing after us?”
“EL-E-VATE!”
“Oh, bugger.”

“I know the bow tie isn’t exactly Saville Row, but I’m just saying there’s a line. There’s a line, and you crossed it.”

“Do-do-do, c’mon and do the conga…”

“Oh! The back of our arse.”

Drunken photocall.

If the lighting looks slightly inconsistent on some of them, that’s because I went back and re-shot some of the blurred ones the next morning when the sun was out. Oh how we suffer for our art. Coming soon: new and previously unseen photos of the great Time Lords’ dance-off. I shan’t tell you who wins. Spoilers, sweetie.

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Go figure

There are many, many reasons why I love my wife. The one I’m going to talk about tonight is her ability to spot a bargain. We live about ten minutes’ walk from the town centre (our immediate neighbours are a funeral director and a curry house, which I’ve always found slightly bizarre) and she’ll often stroll down the high street with Daniel after the school run. The town in which we live is peppered with charity shops, of varying degrees of interest and friendliness: the ones I like seem to be constantly closed, while our nearest Shaw Trust will say it’s open until five and then lock the doors at quarter to so they can vacuum. Conversely the nearby Cancer Research is open until half past and sometimes beyond. The chap who used to be in Action For Children on a Saturday looked and behaved like a nightclub bouncer, but the elderly ladies in Oxfam are a delight.I am in these places quite a lot, because the joy behind charity shops – besides picking up the odd slightly guilty bargain when you get something that you know should have been priced higher, because you know it’s more valuable than the person who priced it thought it was – is that you never know what you’re going to find in there. The contents of the shelves morph and shift on a daily basis as stock comes in and out. I can see piles of cluttered donations in the back rooms whenever I’m in there, as two or three middle-aged W.I. stalwarts go through the boxes and bags of mugs and books and old clothes, occasionally nipping out to the front to serve the person who’s buying a barely-thumbed copy of The Lost Symbol and a freezer bag full of Lego. Sometimes things stay out on the racks for weeks: Peculiar Adventures of Hector DVDs (God there are a lot of those), Spice Girl albums and Michael Palin books are the chief offenders, although you would be amazed at how many copies of Dina Carroll’s So Close I’ve found on the shelves next to whatever X-Factor runner-up has been dumped there recently.

My charity shop browsing usually involves a look round the toy racks, a quick examination of the trinkets shelves in search of kitsch mugs (it’s a long story, and you would find it dull) and a look through whatever CDs / DVDs / games they have that I’d not spotted weeks before. I am always on the lookout for Doctor Who items, but they usually manifest in the form of those tedious Tenth Doctor novels (typically the ones with Martha, which were a low point) or jigsaws that I won’t do and that Joshua has no patience for, or the DVDs I happen to own anyway. I’d love to come across a few of the Classic Who two-disc sets, or perhaps a vintage annual, but the people who own such things have, I suspect, sensibly realised that these items are worth a few bob and that they’d be much better off trying to shift them on Ebay or Amazon.

Then one day, a couple of weeks ago, Emily found the figures.

There were a lot. A box of Daleks and Cybermen sat by the shop door, and a whole load more festooned the shelves. Such items are never there for long, because other people grab them quickly, so my wife got in quick. At this point she was very sensible and bought only the ones that she thought we’d really want. Then she brought them back and showed them to me.

This is the first lot.

And I asked her if there were any more, and she cocked her head and then said “Yes…oh, I suppose it’s for a good cause”, which is the nearest you get to actual permission to go out and spend half your month’s paycheque on a bunch of (very reasonably priced) plastic.

So anyway, on my way back to work…

The second batch. (If this looks like a rather creepy wedding photo, that was deliberate.)

By the time I got round to photographing this lot (before the boys got to play with them and the inevitable scratches and breakages started happening) an impromptu convention was in the works, on the plastic dining table out on the patio.

“Are you my – no, forget it.”

By this time I was on a roll.

“Yeah, I’m down to do the shipping forecast next Sunday.”

“All right, ‘Evolution of the Daleks’ was shit. But did you see ‘Waters of Mars’?”

It was, at this point, essential to get a group shot before this lot got completely out of control. So I grabbed the stuff we already owned and put it all together. Note the positioning of the couples.

The whole gang, minus the Sycorax, who was out of the office, and it was too much of a faff to set it all up again.

Unfortunately, the table is flimsy and wobbly, and five seconds after I snapped the above, this happened.

I was mortified, and called proceedings to a swift halt. Fun while it lasted, anyway.

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