My son and I popped over to the library yesterday to get a DVD. It was only 35-40 degrees outside and intermittently raining. 45 minutes north of us it is cacking it down with wet snow. So - basically a day wherein you can go out but you get inexplicably wet now and again and ridiculously cold due to that. Whilst at the library we were told excitedly that R2D2 was downstairs. I quickly racked my brain to remember whether I'd somehow missed my meds for a fortnight. Nope - bang up to date. So the librarian must have just said that. My son doesn't have a clue who that is. So I told him there was a robot and down we went. At which point we witnessed this sacrilegious nonsense.It's such an appalling mental-rape of what I know from the original Star Wars films that it must have been sanctioned by George Lucas himself. No-one else on this planet would gleefully destroy dreams like that.I mean seriously - look at the bemused look of indifference on the kids faces as a naff looking garbage can twerks about playing shit techno-pop.
The below video isn't particularly interesting. Add it makes me look demented because while I KNOW I was pointing at squirrel nests (they little buggers are everywhere and seemingly rabid at the minute) it looks like I'm randomly pointing into the trees and honking, "look! Millions of them! Don't fire until you see the white's in their eyes!!" But the reason I uploaded it is because my son spent the entire day running around as if he was drunk. Not a straight line for hours. I think it's because an online expat friend of mine is visiting the UK and has posted photos of himself gorging pickled onions and knocking back cans of Special Brew. It's upset the cosmic balance and made my son permanently loopy.
And this is quality. Stuck in a Fire Hall with an arse-load of demented kids, past their bed-times and fueled by synthetic sugars and expected to behave like monsters? Yeah I'll have some of that please. Especially as one is killed with a sword.