Just My Luck? Best film of all time? Quite frankly: Yes.
While we’re on the subject of Mcfly, their cover of Don’t Stop Me Now isn’t as good on the recording as it is live. I would know.
I also wanted to update about me riding around in a combine harvester at the weekend but I have no photos right now because no one is at home and I need people to send them to me. Losers.
Yesterday, Dad, Scott and I went over to Newmarket for Newmarket Nights. It’s an event where you get an afternoon’s racing followed by a concert. Last night, the concert was given by Mcfly. Top draw.
We got there, bought our race books and started to pick out the jockeys who were dressed in the prettiest colours. Well that’s what I was doing. Dad appeared to have some strategy and won on the first race. We then wandered over to the paddock area to pretend we knew what we were doing and pick a horse after merely looking at it walking around in a circle. Well, they all appeared to know how to walk and could all clearly see where they were going. Erm, what else is there left to decide if the horse was a winner? Dad decided to go with the one that was prancing around looking generally insubordiante. Apparently that was a good idea because he won again. Here’s the horse winning.
That’s Frankie Detorri on the winning horse. Because of this we went over to the winner’s enclosure to see Frankie accepting a prize. And because of this (trust me this is going somewhere good) Dad overheard the announcement that a member of Mcfly would be handing over the prize in two races time.
Awesome.
We stuck it out at the winner’s enclosure there. We hadn’t heard anymore announcements which was good because it meant that noone else was really there. It also meant that it probably wasn’t actually happening to be honest. I mean, they’d probably like to get more people there. But hey, we weren’t in a rush to get anywhere.
Then he was there. Danny just walked out into the enclosure. Danny, the one from Mcfly. Just there. The woman who was interviewing him was standing directly in front of us. And in the few seconds it took him to walk it, so was Danny.
Mad! Next to us was a Mcflamily, all of them wanting autographs, they’d asked the interviewy lady if she could get Danny to sign a few for them, so he did.
I pulled the ticket and a pen from my bag, and then he signed it for us. I have the picture of him doing it but I’m afraid that both the picture and the ticket are now in Amy’s possession. She’s made an awesome picture from it though.
Not the end of the story though.
Scott: Touch him
Sarah Rules:I’m not going to touch him
S:Touch his head!
Danny:[laughing a little]What? Touch my head?
S:Yeah
D:Go on then
So I do. I touch Danny from Mcfly’s head. If you want to know what it was like, it was sweaty and full of product (although it was very hot and he was about to play a gig in front of thousands of people.)
The gig almost seems like a come down after that but it was excellent. They played about a million songs and did all the good ones. You know which ones I mean. You’re all secret fans really. To finish off, here’s a lovely picture I got of Dougie, who’s one contribution to the one stage talk was to burp loudly into the mic. Maybe I’m going off him, Danny let me touch his head after all…
After the party on Wednesday I was left with many varied items of food and drink. There was an insanely large cream cake, a delicious salad and pasta that kept the family fed for a couple of days and probably most intriguing, a Noddy cake mix.
This was left by Rhiannon on Mark’s behalf. I think he didn’t give me a cake on my birthday or we bet on a board game and this was my winnings or something along those lines. For some reason, he owed me some cake mix.
If you look at the photo you’ll see the cakes are “Googleberry” flavour. Google? Don’t I recognise that word from my modern day vocabulary? A ha, it’s that well known search engine. On closer inspection you can see that the colours of Noddy’s name bear a remarkable resemblance to those of the Google icon. A coincidence? I think not. If I had time I would like to investigate further the process of events that led from Noddy charging sixpence an adventure to him becoming a successful Internet tycoon who owns possibly one of the most well known and most widely used search engines of our time. But like I said. No time. We’ll blame drugs, or perhaps the hallucinagenic properties of the Googleberry. But enough of that and on with the cakes.
The cakes were fairly easy to make. Your standard add an egg and some water kind of affair. The lumpy mixture we came up against was quickly thwarted by the electric whisk and then we were on our way. The mixture was doled out into the cake cases and put in a preheated oven for 10-12 minutes.
Whilst this was going on, Amy took charge of the icing situation. The googleberry must indeed be magical, just look at this colour change. Never before has the phrase “just add water” been so impressive.
Before:
AFTER:
Astounding.
Here is Amy mixing the icing the only way she knows how. Dropping it from a unnecessarily high height.
We applied the mad crazy icing and then stuck on the “waferettes” with Noddy characters on them and we were done.
And happy.
They were (of course) delicious and I have eaten them all.
But perhaps the most important part of all this is that the three of us, Scott, Amy and I came up with The Best Band In History thanks to this little project. Here is the album cover with its title.
Don’t Infect The Fun
By
Picture Bitch and the Waferettes
This isn’t an update I thought I would make today.
There are three thunderflies underneath my computer screen and beneath all the text and graphics. It’s crazy.
But I just realised that they probably are getting close to knowing what it would feel like if Tron were real.
Such escapades they must be having. Man, awesome.
Sorry to you all (Paul) that I haven’t updated in a while but be prepared for quite possibly millions of posts today.
Here is my week:
On Monday Mcfly were doing a signing and small performance at Ocean Terminal in Edinburgh which is a shopping centre a 20 minute bus ride away from the city centre. On the McFly website it said that HMV would be opening at 9am for us to get wristbands. The doors would be opening at 7am however to allow people to queue early if they wanted. 7am? Surely no one would be there then. We got down there at 7.15am only to find that people had been camping out over night. Oh dear. Here I am at 7.15ish.
Although we were early, this is the queue behind us at about 8am.
Looks good for us right? We’re in front of all those people. Surely we’ve got a good shot at getting two of the 600 wristbands that will allow you to meet (and probably touch) Mcfly. 9am came and the queue slowly started moving. People (girls to be honest) were coming out happily with shiny gold wrists, safe in the knowledge they’d get to meet the band. HMV had decided that everyone would be allowed two bands each. Which was stupid. It meant some people were coming out with spare bands that they were trying to sell. I was not interested. That is not in the spirit of Mcfly. As time went by and 9.30 came we were getting edgy, just how many more bands would there be? HMV employees were coming out to tell people just behind us that they probably wouldn’t get the wristbands. Then they started counting. Slowly they came down the line silently adding up how many fans were there. As they got closer to us their heads were shaking. I couldn’t believe this would be it. Then they told us, we wouldn’t get bands. “Wouldn’t get”? That means that there were still bands available, they hadn’t all gone. What if some people ahead of us got bored and left? That was it. We were staying until there were none left.
That took 5 minutes. We weren’t getting to the signing.
They were still doing a performance though. So at 10 we went to find ourselves a place to stand. We were waiting for one and a half hours while the sound check went on. They tuned every guitar, all six of them, about three times before they decided to polish them all and then tune them all again. The microphone all got similar treatment too. It was slightly ridiculous considering they were only doing a half hour performance but whatever. I got to see Mcfly perform and it was excellent. I forgot my camera so here is a picture from Scott’s phone.
After the performance Scott and I got the train down to Essex. On the Tuesday John was in London after coming back from Africa and before heading out to Spain to farm for a few weeks. I wont even try to do all his stories justice. You’ll just have to hope that he posts them on a website somewhere. Picture’d.
On Wednesday was my BBQ-soirée-shindig. I do hope everyone had a spiffing time. I didn’t take many pictures but here’s one from the first match of the croquet tournament (in which Amy carried she and Martin to victory).
There aren’t any pictures from the last, flood lit game. Nor are there any pictures of the spiderman beach ball volley ball game thing.
This brings me to last night when Scott and I decided to head down to the beach at half ten, with our necessary swimming gear and towels too. Surprisingly there were no other people down there. It was very dark.
We did this in stages. First there was paddling. Necessary for determining water temperature.
Then came the brave bare legs.
Then all the way.
It was surprisingly warm. Well not warm, but I wasn’t shivering when I came out. It was actually a nice respite to the heat of the day. Unfortunately I was reminded of a film I’d seen with lots of sharks who like to eat teens. And then the programme “99 most bizarre survival stories” where sharks are found in places they shouldn’t be and eat people. So I stuck to paddling after a while. But Scott got involved.
There, what more could you ask from me? A possible two other updates about today?
We’ll see.
Facts for all.
Hovis are now selling bread with “invisible” crusts. This is bakery blasphemy and the bread looks bald.
Also, Zack Morris speaks fluent Dutch. What? You absolutely must Wikipedia Saved By The Bell if you ever have a few hours to spare. Thanks to that simple task, I have now seen the brokeback mountain version of the show involving an undying love between Zack and Slater. Surprisingly, they didn’t have to chop up many scenes in a misleading way, the show just seemed to have an underlying air of gay to it. By underlying I mean they kiss (at that crazy fancy dress dance where they go as an Astronaut and “Gumbo” or something) and Slater gives Zack his heart.
And people worry the Internet is being put to bad use.