Wiffle Lever To Full!

Daleks, Death Stars and Dreamy Sci-Fi Nostalgia…

Extracts from Bob’s 1984 Diary… Volume 237

Friday 24th August 1984

Woke up at 9.00 and got up at 10.00. I just lazed around till 12.00, when I had dinner, then I started on an A-Z of Fighting Fantasy. At 1.00 Doug came and we cleaned out my bedroom.

At 3.30 we went to the track and did some stunts, then at 4.30 we came back and walked the Dogs around the field. After eating some brambles, we went to the log and had a rest, then we came back at 5.30.

Doug went home and I had tea, then at 6.15 I watched Paddles Up. At 6.40 I went out, and at 7.00 I watched Winner takes all. At 7.30 I watched Simon and Simon, and at 8.30 I went out. At 9.00 I watched Babble, and at 9.30 I went to bed.

It was only a matter of time before I ended up attempting an ‘A-Z’ of something! In fact, I’m amazed that eight months of the year have passed by without this happening already. This was undoubtedly an early warning sign of the obsessive compulsive gene that’s dominant in most science fiction and fantasy fans… in a nutshell, WE LIKE MAKING LISTS ABOUT STUFF.  

MY THREE FAVOURITE TYPES OF LIST

1. Ones about Doctor Who
2. Ones about Star Wars
3. Ones about Fighting Fantasy Books
4. Ones employed solely to fill up space in daily blog entries

programmeguide
This unseemly hobby was undoubtedly inspired by Jean Marc L’Officier’s amazing two-part ‘Doctor Who Programme Guide’ books, published in 1981 and snapped up by my eight-year-old self from the dreamy Aladdin’s Cave downstairs in the Middlesbrough branch of WH Smiths. They were basically a list of Doctor Who stories in order (with a brief description of each), accompanied by a nicely comprehensive A-Z of major characters, monsters, planets and assorted gizmos from the show’s 18-year history.

In the pre-internet dark ages, this seemed like amazing, secret knowledge! Although, admittedly, amazing secret knowledge that only pale, egg-sandwich loving boys in parkas would be interested in having. With one finger up my nose, I pored over the books for a full weekend at my Gran’s house, and I’m slightly ashamed to report that Volume 2 still has a very visible bogey smear right across the entry for ‘Graff Vynda K’.

artoo
I soon had a taste (for A-Z lists, not bogeys) and within weeks had embarked on an ambitious project to write the official, unexpurgated A-Z guide to Star Wars. I didn’t have a plan, of course, I just started with ‘Artoo Detoo’ and went from there. And then realised that I’d missed out ‘Alderaan’ and had to scrumple up the page and start again. And then realised that I’d missed out ‘Anchorhead’ and had to back to the drawing board for a second time. By the time I got to ‘B’, I had hairs on my chest and a voice deeper than Barry White…

Anyway, it looks like my Fighting Fantasy A-Z project lasted approximately an hour before Doug cycled up the drive and we were racing around the field outside my house with Poggy Doggy and Poggles Ponsonby. As ever we made the most of the harvest time and rambled about a mile to the bramble-laden hedgerows surrounding the railway line, where a fallen treetrunk provided an ideal resting place. For those who missed it, here’s a photo I took of this charming rural idyll back in 1991…

log1
As we wiped the sweat from our foreheads and plonked ourselves down, I remember Doug lustily singing the following, charming little ditty to entertain me:

Kermit the frog
Sat on a log
Messing around with Miss Piggy
He stuck it in once
Stuck it in twice
And out popped three little green piggies

kermit
For years I thought this must have been his own, brilliantly disgusting invention, but a quick Google suggests that (as always) there were variations of this doing the rounds in schools all over the country. Afterwards, we actually had a charmingly in-depth discussion about how a female pig came to be fancying a male frog anyway, and whether it would actually be physically possible for them to consummate their relationship. And then no doubt went on to describe the act itself in considerable detail, making luridly obscene hand gestures as the two dogs snuffled around in the undergrowth looking for bunnies.  

The summer holidays really couldn’t end quickly enough, could they?

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3 Comments»

  Drew Smith wrote @

What’s green and smells of bacon?
Kermit’s fingers.

  Dr. Giles Parcel wrote @

It is scientifically impossible for an amphibian to mate with a mammal, even if they are both made of foam and wire.
I’m aware of apocryphal tales which swear that this is exactly how certain television soap stars came into existence but these are fallacious calumnies.
After all, the piglets would have to have been tadpoles at some point wouldn’t they? How absurd. Natural science will not allow any such organism to exist!
Even the artificial creation of hybrids at genetic level is unlikely to produce a successful animal from such diverse origins, for a number of very valid scientific reasons that would almost certainly be beyond the comprehension of anyone reading this blog. (Anyone besides me, that is)
Also, most back gardens will not be able to accommodate a pond large enough to support a fully grown hog.
I do wish people would consider the realities of science before composing the lyrics to these songs. This has made me so cross that I doubt I’ll be able to efficiently digest my dinner. I had toad in the hole.

  bobfischer wrote @

🙂

I can only say, in mine and Doug’s defence, that we would never have allowed ourselves to be bound by scientific principles in our relentless quest for filth, smut and muck.

We were far from green. Which is more than you can say for…

Etc, etc.


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