Filed under: General Rants
Okay, I have a complaint… about The Transformers. I’m talking about the toys, mind you – the movie was actually pretty excellent, and I enjoyed it both times I sat through it [once with friends, once with the kids]. They did a bang-up job with it, which was odd because “they” was Michael Bay, and everything he touches turns to shite. So my complaint lies with the toys, not the film. Okay? Okay.
Behold the wonder that is Starscream. My favourite Decepticon as a child, the cowardly and cruel Starscream has been lovingly returned to life in the shape of this killer-looking robot you see before you. I don’t mind that he’s no longer red, blue and white – you’ve gotta go with what’s cool for the time, and I’m not that picky. What does trouble me, though, is the length of time it took five grown men to turn Starscream from his robot form….
… into his jet fighter form. Any guesses? Forty-five minutes! I shit you not, people – FORTY-FIVE MINUTES! Why? Because it’s fucking complicated. Five intelligent men at work took three quarters of an hour to transform this thing for Liam’s birthday because it’s insanely complicated. We laughed about it, saying Liam would get it in five minutes…. err, no. He can’t even do it at all. “For ages 5 and up” my Aunt Fanny!
Now again, Starscream looks awesome in both forms, and there’s six missiles that actually fire on it, and he’s way taller than the Titanium Series Starscream…
… but people, this thing is nuts. The Starscream of my youth – the one you see above there – took me three minutes to transform the first time I bought him about a week ago. It’s because there’s only five things needed to do to turn him from robot form…
… into his cool-ass looking plane. COOL-ASS I SEZ! Tell me this thing isn’t as totally wicked-awesome as the new one! I dare you! I double-dare you, mofo! Even now, modern-day Starscream takes me almost five full minutes of twisting and turning to transform, where classic Starscream takes about one. I can see the battle between them now….
[SCENE: Classic Starscream flies over a building with Blitzkrieg and Ravage, bearing down on Modern Starscream.]
CLASSIC STARSCREAM: “DECEPTICONS… ATTAAAAAACK!!”
MODERN STARSCREAM [starting to transform]: “PREPARE TO PERISH, STARSCR — YARRRRGGGGHHHHHHH!!!”
[ Modern Starscream’s words are drowned out under five minutes of endless gunfire during his transformation.]
[End scene.]
Also, this is just the tip of the iceberg. I would upload photos of Liam’s transformed Blackout for you… but I can’t understand the directions to transform him! It’s like dyslexic monkeys wrote the instructions to change this dude. And there’s one guy that’s currently taking me twenty full minutes to transform….
… which would be completely ridiculous if it were anyone but Optimus. And yes, he is awesome. But Hasbro, you’ve made these things too complicated for the parents to follow… and even too complicated for the kids! You guys really need to dial it back for the sake of my kid’s frustration levels – and my own sanity, to boot. BRING BACK THE CLASSICS!
– BC
Filed under: Uncategorized
… the ultrasound results came in, and we’re having a boy!
– BC
I have been reminded recently that I don’t update my blog enough. Partly that’s because I’ve been too busy to do so, but mostly it’s because my job weighs heavily on my mind a lot – well, nearly all the time – and I don’t write about my job because I don’t think it’s good form to criticize the client I’m working for. The resulting catch-22 has meant an inactive blog for your Good Lawn-Fighter. I shall endeavour to update weekly.
This is a good time to start doing so, too, because the family has been busy. Liam, a C and D student, stunned both his mother and I by coming home with a jaw-dropping report card full of the letters C, B and even an A! I’m very proud of the little blighter, and have told him so at length… and followed through on my long-standing promise to buy him anything he wanted under $50. He’s now the proud owner of Spider-Man walkie-talkies and a five-pack of mini monster trucks. Hailey, for her part, continues to impress at school, coming home with nearly a straight-A report card. I’m taking her to Wal-Mart tomorrow to get her $50 gift. I might be poor now, but at least the kids are getting good grades!
The Canada Day weekend saw us heading to Orillia to with the Croucher and Davis families in tow. A good round of golf with Bob, Kevin and Dennis at Hawk Ridge was followed by a swim in Bass Lake, where I spent pretty much the entire time suplexing Liam in the water [no, really – he wanted me to!]. We barbequed on the deck at my mother’s and had a bonfire afterwards. It’s funny how these kind of easy weekends replace the once-single guy’s desire to drive to Mexico and blow his money in a Tijuana gringo wanna hump-hump? bar. Well, maybe not Tijuana, but you know what I mean.
Today’s the stat holiday here, and because Hailey got to spend last night at Natasha’s house [of the Davis clan] I told Liam I’d take him for his first round of golf ever. He’s really wanted to go, and so we went to Cresthaven GC – a par 3 suitable for beginners – to give it a go. I’ve been talking to Liam as much about behaving like a gentleman on the course as I have been about how to play the game, and I’m glad to report that he’s learned his lessons well. He even had some good tee shots and a remarkable 8-foot putt that wasn’t easy to sink. Huzzah!
Lastly, we are currently cat-sitting. Some of you may know that I have experienced the world’s greatest divroce in my lifetime, and my ex-wife and I are still good friends. When no one would take her cat Solo while she vacationed with family in France – Solo being the cat I picked from the Humane Society for her myself some eleven years ago – Tania and I rose to the challenge. He’s diabetic to boot, which means I have to give him a needle every morning that he doesn’t enjoy, and he didn’t like being left here with Abby and Lucky Jack… but he’s come around and has become his sucky old self. It’ll almost be too bad when Kerin picks him up Wednesday, ’cause they’re all just starting to get along.
Right! More later.
– BC
I Fought The Lawn 