Not my eyes! I need those to see.
Welcome blog fans, milk fans, Rhys Ifans, and all to my writings.
Just as a follow up to my last blog entry - some of you may be interested to know that I received a parcel from the good people at GlobalVideo.co.uk (e-mail to tell them to send me stuff, for FREE). When I signed up to place the order I had to fill out all the usual formalities such as address, e-mail, do I want to receive all sorts of crap that I will cause me to forever curse the day I forgot to untick the box, etc. These formalities also include the ever-useful 'name' field. Naturally I typed in Iain Liddle. It is my name after all, and I am nothing if not honest when filling out DVD order forms. So imagine my suprise when the package arrives through my door, addressed to someone who doesn't live at my house. Although rather addressed to the elusive...that's right...Lain Liddle. Part of me hoped that my blog had a particular following in the Scotland vacinity, but the realist inside me cryed. Tears. Of name-related sadness.
Then I went further and PONDERED what had occured. The detials had been hand-written on the envelope. Therefore somebody (probably that twat Dave) had looked at the order form and chose to write that down. This was the conversation I made-up in my head:
Dave: Hmm, what is that first name? It could be a lower-case l or a higher-case I. What do I do? *Calls senior*
Fellow non-CMLL-watching senior: Just as well you called me. I will consult the manual.
>They consult 'Big book of boy's names'<
FN-C-WS: Well there is nothing under Lain, but rather suspiciously something under Iain. I will leave this in your capable hands.
Now I can empathise with Dave in this situation because who of us hasn't nodded in agreement to their boss, whilst dying on the inside because they have no idea what they have to do or how they are going to do it. I can only assume that it was at this point Dave tossed a coin and hoped for the best. He failed, but I can respect his courage in an agry sort of way. Word of advice Dave - next time, choose tails. TAILS. I am informed that it never fails. At least the package itself containe sweet, sweet 'Family Guy' sugar for me to feast on.
Enough of my name.
But I tell you who does have a great name...El Hijo Del Santo. So good infact that I sit at this very blog-station with a t-shirt depicting the image of said name. I will not go on about last night's majesty, because far more elequent people than me have said everything that is needed to be, on RIM (see side links). I have now been to two of these RIM-ups and thoroughly enjoyed both of them. I was a little dubious initially but it really is good to sit with fellow like-minded wrestling fans and talk about it with people who obviously have a similar passion for it. With football, music or any other interest there are plenty of people for me to sound ideas off and shoot the shit with, but with wrestling being so geeky and socially-reclusive by it's very nature, there are too few opportunities. Thank you RIMmers! Unfortunately the post-Panther chat was cut short for me because I met up with a Uni friend and so naturally denied all knowledge of my interest in Mexican's dancing in a libre type motion. I look forward to the next occasion where i can talk about King_Slim or the elusive 'RIM elite' out loud without a) being in a room on my own, or b) being in a room with other people. Naturally if you are confused by option B then the people in the room do not post on the Real In Memphis wrestling board.
I then drank some more with my friend for a few hours, then went back to his newly-rented university accomodation for CHINESE and to other people I know for face-to-face conversation. Thoroughly enjoyed that too and so a god day was rounded off. I woke up this morning at 11:30 to wander half-naked into a living fill of people I had never met before and who did not know that I was even staying in the house. Rather interesting actually. I then took the insanely long walk to Colchester train station which was followed by an even longer and pricier journey back to Liverpool St. A mere half-hour later and I am back in merry ol' Chingford to get home in time to see England demolish (no matter how sugar-coatery John Motson wants to be) Wales and watch some more family guy before beginning this here post. I am not out tonight because I am watching the Ireland game, and also broke like a cheap watch that has been shaken about (worn) for any period.
I have other ANECDOTES that occured between last night, and my previous entry (if I were a camper man I would mention a matron right about now) but I shall save them for a future one.
This is Lain. Signing off.
Just as a follow up to my last blog entry - some of you may be interested to know that I received a parcel from the good people at GlobalVideo.co.uk (e-mail to tell them to send me stuff, for FREE). When I signed up to place the order I had to fill out all the usual formalities such as address, e-mail, do I want to receive all sorts of crap that I will cause me to forever curse the day I forgot to untick the box, etc. These formalities also include the ever-useful 'name' field. Naturally I typed in Iain Liddle. It is my name after all, and I am nothing if not honest when filling out DVD order forms. So imagine my suprise when the package arrives through my door, addressed to someone who doesn't live at my house. Although rather addressed to the elusive...that's right...Lain Liddle. Part of me hoped that my blog had a particular following in the Scotland vacinity, but the realist inside me cryed. Tears. Of name-related sadness.
Then I went further and PONDERED what had occured. The detials had been hand-written on the envelope. Therefore somebody (probably that twat Dave) had looked at the order form and chose to write that down. This was the conversation I made-up in my head:
Dave: Hmm, what is that first name? It could be a lower-case l or a higher-case I. What do I do? *Calls senior*
Fellow non-CMLL-watching senior: Just as well you called me. I will consult the manual.
>They consult 'Big book of boy's names'<
FN-C-WS: Well there is nothing under Lain, but rather suspiciously something under Iain. I will leave this in your capable hands.
Now I can empathise with Dave in this situation because who of us hasn't nodded in agreement to their boss, whilst dying on the inside because they have no idea what they have to do or how they are going to do it. I can only assume that it was at this point Dave tossed a coin and hoped for the best. He failed, but I can respect his courage in an agry sort of way. Word of advice Dave - next time, choose tails. TAILS. I am informed that it never fails. At least the package itself containe sweet, sweet 'Family Guy' sugar for me to feast on.
Enough of my name.
But I tell you who does have a great name...El Hijo Del Santo. So good infact that I sit at this very blog-station with a t-shirt depicting the image of said name. I will not go on about last night's majesty, because far more elequent people than me have said everything that is needed to be, on RIM (see side links). I have now been to two of these RIM-ups and thoroughly enjoyed both of them. I was a little dubious initially but it really is good to sit with fellow like-minded wrestling fans and talk about it with people who obviously have a similar passion for it. With football, music or any other interest there are plenty of people for me to sound ideas off and shoot the shit with, but with wrestling being so geeky and socially-reclusive by it's very nature, there are too few opportunities. Thank you RIMmers! Unfortunately the post-Panther chat was cut short for me because I met up with a Uni friend and so naturally denied all knowledge of my interest in Mexican's dancing in a libre type motion. I look forward to the next occasion where i can talk about King_Slim or the elusive 'RIM elite' out loud without a) being in a room on my own, or b) being in a room with other people. Naturally if you are confused by option B then the people in the room do not post on the Real In Memphis wrestling board.
I then drank some more with my friend for a few hours, then went back to his newly-rented university accomodation for CHINESE and to other people I know for face-to-face conversation. Thoroughly enjoyed that too and so a god day was rounded off. I woke up this morning at 11:30 to wander half-naked into a living fill of people I had never met before and who did not know that I was even staying in the house. Rather interesting actually. I then took the insanely long walk to Colchester train station which was followed by an even longer and pricier journey back to Liverpool St. A mere half-hour later and I am back in merry ol' Chingford to get home in time to see England demolish (no matter how sugar-coatery John Motson wants to be) Wales and watch some more family guy before beginning this here post. I am not out tonight because I am watching the Ireland game, and also broke like a cheap watch that has been shaken about (worn) for any period.
I have other ANECDOTES that occured between last night, and my previous entry (if I were a camper man I would mention a matron right about now) but I shall save them for a future one.
This is Lain. Signing off.