Movie Review - Star Wars 2 or 5

As a keen film fan I can share my insights. I watch the films so you don't have to. Or something.

Just to clarify, re:title, this is the more recent one, from longer ago in the film, or sooner I guess, being the future.

Lots of aliens and space ships and dense meteor storms and robots. Laws of physics seemingly suspended. Bizarre huge Roman gladiator shoot outs with hundreds of robots and goodies with lightsticks.

This film is mostly let down by the ridiculous pear scene, wherein the young bloke and the woman sit down to a meal of, er, 1 pear each, a whole pear mind you, not the tinned stuff, and proceed to attempt to eat the pears with knife and fork. I know this is the far future, but even so you cannot eat a whole pear with a knife and fork, I won't believe that. I can accept the bending of the laws of physics, I am sure they were in deep space or another dimension or whatever, but the pear thing stretched it all too far.

Also I was surprised that Jedi people were not forward-thinking enough to take a kagoul with them in case of rain.

All in all I can only recommend this if you are a big fan of all the star trek films prior to (or after?) this. Otherwise stick with the lego version.

Rules clarification required (ii)

In association football, you are one goal ahead moving into injury time and under a lot of pressure, when your team gets hold of the ball you all run towards it and surround it so that no opponents can get through the forest of legs to access the ball. The opponents realise what you are up to and try to get you to move by tickling your players. What is the correct referee's response?
I've noticed that there appears to be nothing wrong with dribbling the ball over to the corner flag and trying to keep it there out of the opponent's reach, so I can't see why extending this ball protection would fall foul of the rules. Equally, tickling seems an underused tactic.

Getting Fit and Gaining Pounds

On my way back from the gym (yes, you read right, gym, gonna ache tomorrow), I noticed some pieces of paper fluttering along beside the A40. Pretty familiar pieces of paper they were too, at least at first glance. Twenty pound notes just there on the ground blowing about. Candid camera? A leaking bank? Germans attempting to destabilise our economy? Something wasn't right, the notes were a bit too pristeen, almost a bit shiny, the queen a bit too happy, tipsy possibly, and that doesn't say £20 in the corner, does it, that says £02.

So, I picked one up:

Yes, that's the Rank of England. It says Plenty pounds. The picture on the back is "View of the west face of a cathedral". The bloke on the back is "Sir Max Ellis"

Searching for Max Ellis on the internet, things begin to become slightly clearer,

http://www.junkyard.co.uk/ is a collection of his digital art portfolio, if you are interested.
Hopefully Max/the Bank of England don't have anything against me putting this here!

Anyway, got back from the gym, had a fried bacon and egg sandwich and felt a lot better.

Dream Interpretation?

The night before last I dreamt that as I was crossing a large road, possibly the North Circular, a red-haired woman asked if I thought her hair was too short to put into a ponytail. I said "Yes". Her hair was barely longer than mine. What a silly question.
When I woke up everything outside was covered with snow.

Oh deer.

On the tube today, on the way to take part in an epic and victorious snooker encounter with Gutsy (about which you can read an entertaining, if mildly biased, account on misterguts.blogspot.com), I noticed that the man seated opposite me had antlers.
This usurped the rather surprising, and no doubt hastily printed, sign at Hanger Lane station declaring "Caution - Wet Grafitti" as the biggest curiousity of my journey.
It was not a Centaur, or close relation, not wishing to mislead, as the antlers were no longer joined to their original host, but were thoroughly bubblewrapped and taking up most of the space between the two rows of seats. Not sure what the recommended way of packaging antlers is, but I noticed that bubblewrap is not a particularly good choice and there were many sharp protuberences, as I found with a sharp stabbing pain in my shin just after the large bearded old gent rose to attempt to leave the tube balancing alternately on his walking stick and his antlers, and skittling passengers on both sides.

Rules clarification required

Just wondering, does anyone out there know what happens if at the end of your shot in snooker one ball ends up balanced on top of another ball? Have you played a foul shot as the ball has ended up not on the bed of the table? But it has not really left the table as such. Perhaps I should ask Patsy Fagan.

Important update

Didn't want to keep anyone in suspense for any longer than I had to. So, here is a full report on my trip to the barbers.
After a disappointing false start when I realised I had only shaved half my face and had to return home in embarrassment, it was a successful trip. Actually there was a second disappointment before I eventually reached the barbers as the Aussies fairly cruised to their victory target in under 40 overs, which did at least vindicate my comments on powerplays.
It turns out that now is a brilliant time to go for a haircut. The average hairlength in Britain increases significantly during January as the unofficial "I went over Christmas" boycott leaves hairdressers up and down the land twiddling their thumbs rather than their curlers. Not that I have seen curlers used in my barbers, but they could hardly twiddle their electric razor cutter thing. So, it was a remarkably efficient trip as it cut out the 20 mins reading an awful newspaper or a tattered magazine.
This trip confirmed that the big news and talking point in England today is Big Brother. So, I won't elaborate. But at least hairdressers up and down the country have something to watch all day through the barren shearing month of January.
Hair cut. Paid. Home. In time for lunch. Bacon sandwich - yummmm. Saw a dog eating a rose on the way home. That didn't seem quite right somehow. But Turkish Delight is rose flavoured, so maybe is OK.

I've fallen into the obvious trap of multi-posting on the first day. So my blog will forever look like I started off all keen and then lost interest, even if I try to keep it up to date. Still, I suppose it's not every day that you go to the barbers shop.

3 things I've noticed for starters

1) Really I wanted an underscore.
2) I need a haircut.
3) There is no point in using a powerplay if your opponents are not going to be batting the full 50 overs.
1) My chosen identity is pasta_rogue. Not pastarogue.
2) If Jasper hadn't tricked me into setting up a "blog" I'd be halfway to the barbers now.
3) You are defending 155. YESSSSS plum LB!
1) Lynne and Lynn, Anne Marie and Anne-Marie, MacDonald and Macdonald. It's not the same, how does your name look without a character. Try turning your 4th letter into an X. Is it still you?
2) Blogs generally have about 3 entries and then are given up. No point starting one on a whim when there is something more constructive to do, surely?
3) Now they need 47 from 119 balls. What was the point giving them 5 overs when they could have hit out if they suddenly fancied it, particularly with a big-hitting team like theirs.
1+2) So my contribution to the world's knowledge is located under a misrepresentation, and wasting my time.
2+3) I guess I should grab my DAB and listen to the end on the way to the barbers. If I leave now then I can be back well before lunch in case I need to go to the pub.
1+3) And what bizarre law means I must play as Flantiff Callingwood and Stress on my PS2 game??? Can I even use their real names here? Madness!
1+2+3) One entry for posterity. Off out now. Cricket in the ears of course. Must get that hair shorn. visit again. Remember underscore in name, not address.