Question: is this bigger than the Indy whip?
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June 13.
Just as the train pulls out of Matera station, the screen goes black and there’s no more No Time to Die for you, my little scrumblenumpkin, until you pay for something as just seen. What, though?
- Featureless white mask. Sit in a dark corner and grab people. Hours of fun / counselling.
- James Bond tamagotchi. Can you keep him alive? Oh, I get it now.
- Donuts.
- “Medicine”. Lots of lovely “medicine”. Especially the type Chateau Lafite makes.
- Calling cards marked with the symbol of an evil organisation. Wolverhampton Wanderers.
- Bleach! James Bond Bleach!
- A bionic eye. “Keep an eye on” those mischievous neighbours of yours.
- Free hearing checks every time a massive bomb goes off in your face.
- Handy Italian phrase book full of unlikely excuses to explain to Italian train guards why you have no ticket; in my experience, never very sympathetic.
- Gatling gnu. Not a typo either.
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voters
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Have to go with the Gatling gnu. Mainly because the militaries all seem to pester us about a lack of gnus - Gatling as well as golden - and of course because it rhymes with
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The hearing checks.
Bond should have gotten one, too, so he could have heard Safin before being shot by him. (Sorry, spoiler alert, for those who still haven’t seen the film.)
Also, the hearing checks are applicable for listening to some title songs.
Or some one-liners.
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The hearing checks would really help.
Before TMWTGG…….
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I choose the white mask, because… I already was crazy enough buying the two pair set and I am hoping I can convince Amazon that I bought it right now while watching the movie, but probably I will fail and I will realy be in trouble when they find out I even didn’t bought it at the 007 store for a few more bucks, but at SideShow instead. The possitive thing is… after the credits the movie becomes worse and worse.
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June 14.
Trooping the Colour and That Trump Chap’s birthday all in the same weekend; fly the bunting high! How can you recover from auspicious events like these?
By settling down and watching the silliest Bond film. Yet again, the streaming service shuts down just after the end of the pre-credits and won’t start up again until you give Amazon some money for something you have just seen. Only then will they show the remainder of For Your Eyes Only.
What to buy?
- Some ratty petrol station roses and a limp, dirty teddy bear you would otherwise find at the site of a car accident or an unsolved abduction.
- A plastic headstone with a still-living loved one’s name on it. A super Christmas present. Oh, the joy!
- A remote control helicopter (obvious model). Buzz all the neighbours. Annoy every cat.
- A delicatessen. In stainless steel. Never enough teaspoons, I tend to find.
- A rather unpleasant striped shirt, when you look at it.
- Diversity awareness lessons so that you learn not to pick on - or for that matter, pick up - chair users without their informed consent.
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voters
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I already got the unpleasant striped shirt and all my cats are remote-controlled anyway, though sadly not by me. A very FYEO experience…
But it just so happens I do have use for a headstone with a living person’s name on it and will gladly present them with this right away; no need to wait for Christmas. It’s possible that this person is also a beloved one, but for this I cannot vouch personally…
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I also have an ugly striped shirt, so two would just be too many (says my wife). So I opt for the roses and the teddy bear to give as a present to the next neighbour who invites me to a party I don’t want to attend but are forced to, hoping these two items will prohibit further invitations.
Then again, there are neighbours whose taste will be met by these, so maybe I self-sabotage here.
The neighbourhood. A recurring theme.
Maybe I should invite them and show off my Bond collection in order to become the instant pariah!
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For me the choice was not difficult!
Finally… finally I will know what a dellicatessen in stainless steel will look like and better: I will own one! Yes! All my dreams are coming true!
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And you didn’t even have to escape a hijacked-by-remote helicopter first.
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Wearing a gaudily striped shirt (sorry that the leather loafers were not available), I would use the remote control helicopter to terrorize cat. And while the plastic headstone would be too far, it doesn’t change how much that black and white bas*&^d annoys me!
Goddamm cat! Who feeds him? Me, that’s who (disappears into the garage on continued rant against the family cat, while said cat yawns and thinks about lying in the sun)
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A shirt to go with my pink tie.
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A delicatessen. If only to silence all those bores in my local neighbourhood WhatsApp group banging on about their swanky new air fryer.
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June 15.
“It’s Octopussy’s turn!” Not a phrase commonly heard outwith the discussion about what goes into the charity shop bag in any given month, but in this context the film won’t continue its tonally undulating way beyond the pre-credits lest you purchase something from that sequence. You could just go and see a friend instead, of course, although that might be a slightly unlikely option, true.
- Fake moustache. Makes you look completely different- amazing! Might be alive.
- Something that came out of a horse’s arse.
- A surface-to-air missile. Comes with permanent residency on a CIA watchlist.
- A machine gnu.
- A model plane that never actually gets off the ground.
- A briefcase with a SECRET COMPARTMENT; live the Gardner-era dream.
- A high-thigh dress that leaves nothing to the imagination; even that of the neighbour with the star-gazing telescope that oddly seems always to be pointing at your garden.
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voters
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The dress, definitely. I mean have you seen my thighs? Alright, you have, of course, I bare them every time I write about my views on Bond. Yep. That image can’t be unseen now. But if you‘re disgusted my neighbours might be, too.
Then again, my neighbours.
I should have opted for the gnu.
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In this case, stopping No Time To Die at this point and not seeing the rest of the irksome film is the MUCH preferred outcome. So I don’t choose any of the options and, as a result, won’t give Amazon any money this time.
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Another tough decision.
Something out of a horse’s arse is delivered 24/7 to most of my devices. And that’s been going on for some time, apparently based on the theory this world still lacks enough BS for some of its wealthiest residents. Hard pass.
The SA missile with the gratuitous CIA watchlist place: it currently doesn’t take possession of military grade missiles to land one on such a list; a lack of the right kind of tattoo or wearing the wrong shoes for visits to the Oval Office already guarantees your place amongst the top 300m dissenters. So that’s actually an attractive option. Amazon’s ‘Delivery around 2099’ however doesn’t seem to arrive in time for my purposes. Pass.
The fake moustache will do nothing for me as I’m already wearing a real one looking fake. Pass.
The machine Gnu…
Nope, clashes with my machine hellhound.
The secret Gardner compartment thingy: I suspect I already own a couple of those given how my reading glasses, my biros and my phone seem to regularly disappear inside dark corners. Nope.
And in some attic or cellar of a former home there probably still sits a huge carton of my never-quite finished airplane models. No reason to add another one to them.
So the dress it is, though I will need to order the proper shoes to go with it. Ah, it’s such a drag when you’ve got nothing - really nothing - to wear!
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As someone who has never been able to grow a moustache with any kind of seriousness (my best was wearing a fake one when I was nine), I’ll gladly ake the fake one and hope that at last I can live the swinger’s life……
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