In fact, we've got several - there's our Down The Mines list, our First Against The Wall list, our Deserving Of A Quick Death list and so on.....and then there's The List.
Our List with a capital L is the master list, the important one to which all others are secondary. It contains the important things we need to do with our short and fleeting lives...here's a sample:
Repel Zombie Attack
Meet and shake hands of all extant Doctors
Force making of third Ghostbusters film
Make Funny Game an Olympic event.
For those of you who don't yet know Funny Game, this is a demonstration courtesy of Pockets and Fox...
But that's all incidental to what happened yesterday.....
You may be aware that the geoff has a bit of a track record with pigeons, but it's taken a sinister turn recent. He got up for work the other day to find two pigeons in the living room. It made him late for work, it was very funny...or at least we thought so....but he appears to have gone a bit mental again. Look what we found on the window sill yesterday morning...
We suspect he left it there as a warning.
So what do you do with a dead pigeon on your window sill five floors up? It's a quandry, but it nicely fits in with list item number 2(b):
"Have a lovely day that ends with a spot of corpse disposal."
Love, The Martians x
(PS - Whatever you read in the papers John is neither sexy or powerful. Quite the opposite in fact.)
Hello, us again. Sorry it's been a while. We've been very busy. Now stop whining and get on with the grovelling.
This is a tricky post which involved a lot of thought. The thing is, it involves a swear word. Not a particularly bad one, but...well....you know....
Our Dad reads this and he knows Our Mum and might tell her. We're not quite sure what happens then, we've always managed to avoid it so far (except on stage, which doesn't count because there are witnesses and innocent bystanders) but we're really not sure we should do this....
The majority of the Problem involves time travel. We keep having all these marvelous ideas which keep turning up in obscure places. Script ideas crop up in TV programs from the 1970s that we've never seen before, life keeps imitating art. Here's a classic example - we would refer you particularly to the bit about sadistic murders of pigeons, and a certain Sir Cameron Mackintosh who still owes Gerry a duel and who's name we hope we've spelled correctly this time...
We call this phenomenon "Time Bastardry", which is the nub of the Problem. We were going to call it Time Banditry but it turns out that's already been done. Bastards. Sorry Mum.
Still, we've got some original things on the go which haven't been mucked about with by the temporal tinkerers yet, a few interesting ideas you'll hopefully hear more of later in the year.
(We've got back-up on this: Knight of the Order of St. Gregory the Great)
Tony Hart: Heaven.
(Sorry, no picture does this one justice.)
Gives you all something to aim for.
Star Trek II: Wrath Of Khan is still a masterpiece that deserves reviewing, alongside the original "Space Seed". Not to mention Morph, The Gallery and the creator of the Blue Peter Badge.
Aside from that, work is ongoing at MarsHQ. We think this year will be very interesting...that's about all we can say for sure.
Fair enough, the students are gone and the drag-racers outside trail tinsel, and all in all it's a pretty cheery time of the year. Did we wish you all a happy Sadeh by the way?
But there's a problem. There's hassles and stresses and geoff's to be dealt with. I mean, who carries a tape measure and the dimensions of the oven when they go shopping? Turns out you should. Our turkey is going to need surgery before it fits in the oven, and we can't take a bath because it's going to take 48 hours to defrost. There's blood all over the shower curtain. It's like living on the Psycho set.
And the shopping arrangements are all over the place. We've got most of the basics, like meat and tea and flour, but the nice bits are proving tricky. You know the nice bits, roasting potatoes, cheeses, port, beer.....the nice bits. Now mull this over in your mind and stir in the fact that only Gerry can get to the shops tomorrow.
MarsHQ discussed what we needed, put forward ideas and suggestions.
Gerry wrote a list....
The rest of us just found it.
Smash Pizza Pie Cheesy sauce Pork Stuffing Mix 2 Bottles Guinness 1 Can Guinness Big Mac Gerkhin Donuts Cheddar Pizza A New Computer Game
So it's that odd time of year again, the Festival glut. Dong zhi, Modranect, Diwali, Eid......or, as we Martians call it, Kryzmaz. It really is a tedious time of the year, so we don't blame you for having a bit of a laugh, and the lights will come in useful down the Mines. But call it what you will, it's always odd.
Oh - John says "Merry ChrisTmas, and a Happy New Year!". And yes, for those that are wondering, yes, he did actually pronounce the T in ChrisTmas and you can hear every single capital letter in all its dreadfulness.
Speaking of John, he's back at Mars HQ. Briefly. He's jetted in from twenty six different hotel rooms and has singularly failed to make a decent cup of tea since he arrived. Mars HQ is now cluttered, to the tune of one John. And his plans. John's plans are myriad, and begin with the construction of a tree which is then covered in electrical circuits and plugged into the mains.
But we'll be rid of him soon enough, he's off to Hong Kong to "Get away from you lot and your incessant unfestiveness". And to appear in Macbeth. Is that unlucky on the interweb? We don't know...but we hope so.
Macbeth. Macbeth. Macbeth.
We're whistling as we type too, if we get enough bad luck on the go then none of the new scripts will get anywhere and we won't have to do anything. Not the ghost thing, not the sci-fi thing, nor the three Sundowe sequels or the sketch show/s.
We are The Martians, the greatest and most feared street buskers on your pointless and overly-moist space rock. There are no other troubadours who can come close to matching our sheer magnificence and fearitude.
Except, perhaps, one.
Allow us to introduce Pocket Fox. For those who haven't seen us busk, or were too busy hiding, Pocket Fox busk next to us on the Mile every Festival and are masters of the ancient art of Ukulele Rock Covers. Not only ukuleles, but also kazoos. Which is copying us really, but we'll let that slide on the grounds of their own invention, the KazooKeylele:
The truly terrifying thing is the fact that they've managed to tot up (at the time of writing), well over 1.2 million hits on Youtube, and we're pretty sure we've just seen them on the BBC's "Web This Week". It's gratifying to see that at least some of you are taking the whole world domination thing seriously. Well done Pockets. (Yes, that's who the new user is.)
We Martians have a healthy fear of the past. Everything bad happened in the past. The invention of cats? Years ago. That time we ran out of tea? Last week. A slightly disasterous invasion attempt that led to the extinction of 99% of the Martian Race? Closing years of the 19th Century. The past is bad...we'd rather remember the future, it's shinier.
And yet we keep being drawn to the past, like moths to a flamethrower. We thought London was still in the past, sitting there guarding the memories of Top of the Pops and Sneddon and Horsell Common, but it turns out it's also here, now, and won't let us forget it.
So there's only one thing to do: one of our infamous one-off impromptu busking sessions followed by an exclusive and altogether unique staging of our award winning, five-star musical "Greyfriar's Twisted Tales" - yes, that's right, the show that just won't die is leaving Auld Reekie and heading for the Big Smoke. Just the once, mind you, we aren't planning on it becoming a habit.
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