Ways You Know That You're Obsessed With Gerry Anderson
- Thread starter Bayleaf48
- Start date
3) Your head is too large for your body.
Little Annecdote
Heard this little story on the Radio this morning. Think it applies.
Back in 1965, there was a comic, TV21, that specialised in strips from the various sci/fi Television shows of the time.
One particular edition gave away a sheet of foil 'stick-on' labels with WASP insignia, as used by Troy Tempest.
Our young hero was devoid of anything that could give such important ranks the required prominence, but his father did. So he applied them all to his fathers jacket and flat hat.
Father did not realise, until he got to work, why everybody was giving him odd looks, from bus driver on. His jacket and hat now fully decked with eppaulettes, collar flashes, sleeve tags et al.
Heard this little story on the Radio this morning. Think it applies.
Back in 1965, there was a comic, TV21, that specialised in strips from the various sci/fi Television shows of the time.
One particular edition gave away a sheet of foil 'stick-on' labels with WASP insignia, as used by Troy Tempest.
Our young hero was devoid of anything that could give such important ranks the required prominence, but his father did. So he applied them all to his fathers jacket and flat hat.
Father did not realise, until he got to work, why everybody was giving him odd looks, from bus driver on. His jacket and hat now fully decked with eppaulettes, collar flashes, sleeve tags et al.
7) The Pictures hanging on the walls of your house have eyes that light up.
8) When you answer the telephone, you keep looking for the video picture.
9) No one notices if you disappear for weeks on end, supposedly working on a communications satellite in outer space.
8) When you answer the telephone, you keep looking for the video picture.
9) No one notices if you disappear for weeks on end, supposedly working on a communications satellite in outer space.
11) When you leave for work, you sit in your car seat in the Kitchen, which then takes you under the floor, and through several caves, before taking you to your garage and in through the roof of your car.
austin_cambridge
Member
- Joined
- May 4, 2014
- Messages
- 23
You are busy sourcing all the items you once had as a child (records, comics, models, books...and so it goes on). 
Gerry Anderson has a lot to answer for if you ask me...
I was walking home from the pub in the early hours, in a heavy mist/light rain It was unnaturally quiet, as if the weather were a soft blanket that had been thrown over the town, muffling every sound.
Behind me, clear as day, I heard the approach of a low-register diesel engine; low revs, double de-clutch, obviously heavily laden. I looked around. A short-wheelbase tanker came over the rise of the hump-backed railway bridge and stopped at the roundabout. There was no other traffic. The glistening windscreen was opaque under the halogen streetlight, making the cab look empty.
I was suddenly seized by the terrible knowledge that the reason I couldn't see the driver was because there was no driver. My scalp tightened with fear. The solo windscreen wiper made a single pass, like the lazy blink of an eye. I almost turned an ran, but the tanker suddenly veered off to the right and disappeared from view.
I didn't run home, you understand, it was just stepping out smartly.
At the end of my road I stopped. Again I knew, with absolute certainty, that the tanker was waiting for me - it had looped around and come in from the far end. When I turned the corner the headlights would come on, blinding me, and the heavy engine would burst into life...
I stood there maybe two, three minutes, which is an eternity of terror, until a pedestrian came out of the mist heading the other way and I knew just standing there made me look weird.
I turned the corner.
Nothing happened.
Ah, the blessing of an imagination!
I was walking home from the pub in the early hours, in a heavy mist/light rain It was unnaturally quiet, as if the weather were a soft blanket that had been thrown over the town, muffling every sound.
Behind me, clear as day, I heard the approach of a low-register diesel engine; low revs, double de-clutch, obviously heavily laden. I looked around. A short-wheelbase tanker came over the rise of the hump-backed railway bridge and stopped at the roundabout. There was no other traffic. The glistening windscreen was opaque under the halogen streetlight, making the cab look empty.
I was suddenly seized by the terrible knowledge that the reason I couldn't see the driver was because there was no driver. My scalp tightened with fear. The solo windscreen wiper made a single pass, like the lazy blink of an eye. I almost turned an ran, but the tanker suddenly veered off to the right and disappeared from view.
I didn't run home, you understand, it was just stepping out smartly.
At the end of my road I stopped. Again I knew, with absolute certainty, that the tanker was waiting for me - it had looped around and come in from the far end. When I turned the corner the headlights would come on, blinding me, and the heavy engine would burst into life...
I stood there maybe two, three minutes, which is an eternity of terror, until a pedestrian came out of the mist heading the other way and I knew just standing there made me look weird.
I turned the corner.
Nothing happened.
Ah, the blessing of an imagination!
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