The Geordie Film Experience, Part II

typed for your pleasure on 11 July 2006, at 9.47 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Blood on the floor’ by Throbbing gristle

(If you’ve not read the first part, you might want to go ahead and read that, as it’ll make more sense..)

This past week-end was host to the second half of my most recent iDollator-based telly interview! This part was expected to be more interesting, as my Synthetik sweetie was due back from the RealDoll Doctor’s on Friday, and Nick & Tanya would be filming me getting Sidore-chan round to Monti’s for a photo shoot. Heady plans!

Thursday eve, I met up with the returning Britons, so I could show them how to get to my workplace, in order for them to shoot me leaving work the next day. I was reticent at first, as my coworkers are, well, cultureless fucking churls, and I didn’t want any of them making a spectacle of themselves (moreso than usual) in front of the camera. We conducted that late in the eve, like round 9pm, as I’d been round to a friend’s for a couple of hours after work, and Nick & Tanya had just flown in from the Abyss studios near San Diego, and arrived in Detroit round 5ish. So we’d had our reccy, and they would see me round 2pm on Friday.

At the end of Friday’s typically tedious workday, I rang Nick to let him know I was on my way down. Under normal conditions, my coworkers are willing to gather in the lobby of the floor we’re on, and wait until the lifts arrive. I, on the other hand, neither want to wait or congregate, so I leg it down the eight flights of stairs, leave through an adjacent door, and usually am halfway to my car just as my coworkers are ambling out of the lift. Nick, however, wanted me to hang back and leave the building with my coworkers in a big group, ‘like the beginning of the Simpsons,’ he said. So for the sake of the shoot, I complied. I should’ve just taken the stairs and waited in the lobby for my coworkers, cos quite frankly, being crammed into a lift with them is no way to spend a Friday afternoon.. Nick filmed me walking out past the camera, getting to my car, and driving away. Then I stopped to pick him up, whilst Tanya followed in the rental. Nick then filmed me for the length of the ride home, including me stopping for fuel, and having me speak about work, and how forced interaction with people is turning me into even more of a sociopath. Heh.

Back at der Haus, Nick got some interior shots, whilst Tanya and I gabbed about various things, one of them being the Millenium Dome — apparently there are plans to turn it into a casino. Which is negligibly better than it being Greenwich’s Largest Dust Accumulator, but still not the best thing they could’ve done with it. They followed up with some additional filming of me answering questions, and discussing how I felt about Shi-chan’s imminent return (‘excited’), and round 20 after six, the delivery van arrived. After shifting the crate into the garage – and to any Doll owners out there, might I add that Sweetie has the old, boxy, taking-up-space style of crate, which just shows you how HARDxCORE we are – Nick commenced filming the somewhat-involved process of uncrating the Missus. High comedy.
First off, I’d noticed that the combination lock wasn’t the same one as I’d put on; I’d selected one with a distinct purple dial, and this one was bog-standard black. So I’m looking all over the crate for a taped-on note or something that might indicate where the combination is, and coming up trumps. After a few minutes of moist and sweaty panic, I spotted the combo sticker on the back of the lock. D’oh!
After dispensing with the lock, I hesitantly grasped the door handle, and pulled. And pulled. And pulled once more. ‘I wonder if Dr Jackson put the screws in along the door frame?’ I thought aloud. Sure enough, he did! Cue me walking briskly back inside for a Philips-head screwdriver.
Having removed the last screw at the bottom, I half-facetiously wondered if Dr Jackson managed to staple the sheet of translucent plastic that Abyss always includes. No points for guessing what I encountered between myself and my silicone wife, then. Cue me dashing inside for the letter opener, and then back in a third time for a sharper cutting implement.
Now, it could be argued that as I’ve gone through this twice before, I should’ve had everything I needed on hand.. err, beforehand. But since Shi-chan was being shipped from Dr Jackson’s as opposed to Abyss, I didn’t know he followed the same packing procedures. Now I know! And knowing is etc etc.

Upon slicing through the plastic, and seeing Sidore-chan’s beautiful face (with touched-up makeup, as requested), I couldn’t stop smiling; however, things took a downward turn from there.. Over the course of giving her a cursory looking-over, I’d noticed that her right hand was jammed gracelessly into her foam seat cushion. When I pulled it out, the tip of her pinky had a sizeably deep gash in it, and it was still connected to the rest of her finger by virtue of some silicone adhesive. Worrisome, yes, but I had initially chalked it up to damage during transport, until I later kenned that if the damage had occurred during transport, then why would her fingertip look like it was reattached? Hrrm..
As it was in the mid-Eighties that afternoon, between carting the Missus from the garage to the bed, I was sweating like a pig’s minge. (Have I mentioned how much I despise sweating? Not in the past three minutes? Well, then.) When I lay her on the bed, I’d noticed that the silicone repair patches were really obvious, and could be seen on the sides of her knees, elbows and armpits. The flashing she’d had on her wrists and ankles was taken care of, but there were, for all intents and purposes, open wounds on the inside of her right knee and right elbow, and on the back of her neck. I could understand that he had to cut through her in those places in order to tighten her joints as I’d requested, but what I didn’t understand was how some of the cuts weren’t sealed up. I kinda got the impression that her surgery was a rush job, and upon reflection, it probably was. It took Shi-chan about a week to get to Dr Jackson’s, she spent about a week there, and it took her a week to return, all according to the filmmakers’ schedule. Had she been there longer, there probably wouldn’t have been so many things that were overlooked.
Needless to say, it was bittersweet. I was overjoyed to have my Shi-chan back home, but she was in a bit of a state, as was I. I’d resolved to ring Dr Jackson tomorrow, and ask him a few questions. Nick & Tanya were desperate for dinner, and invited me to come with, but I was knackered, and in no fit state for going anywhere. We arranged to meet up at 10am tomorrow morn to get round to Monti’s; they took their leave, and I joined Sidore in bed, at the end of a long day.

When 10am Saturday morn rolled round, I had made a decision. After getting a look at the various injuries that the Missus had, I’d decided that she wasn’t going anywhere until I could repair her. The five injuries that she’d had were things I could see to with no trouble, as the repair kit I got from Abyss a year ago was still usable, but with all the dressing her up and moving her from my room, to my car, to Monti’s, to back home, I wasn’t going to run the risk of making her cuts larger. So I told the filmmakers that we could still get round to Monti’s, only our party would be minus one. Nick & Tanya told me that unfortunately, there’d really be no need to get round to hers, as the whole point of their shooting was to film me shooting Shi-chan and Monti together, so that pretty much scotched that segment of the filming. Hrm. Personally, I still want to do that shoot, but as I’d told them, it’ll have to wait 1) until Sweetie’s fully recuperated, and 2) until the outside temperature isn’t like a microwave. C’est la guerre..
As I’d had a chance to sleep and clear my mind of things, I’d come to the conclusion that all told, what I perceived as a horrible mauling to my beloved’s personage really wasn’t all that bad. After all, she was repaired, and as I’d had a chance to speak to Dr Jackson over the phone, he said himself that he was sad when he had to recrate Shi-chan, as he didn’t get a chance to finish her repairs to his complete satisfaction. I think of it like this: there are Doll owners out there with their lasses in much worse condition than Shi-chan is, so that puts things into perspective. I can think of one off the top of my head, whose lass, Sarah Marie, is about a year or so older than Sidore-chan, and as a result, her silicone formula was softer and more tear-prone. I’d been collecting pics of her since I first got into this crazy iDollator world, and believe me, she had some gorgeous pics. Then she and her lad dropped out of the scene for a while, and in speaking to him a few years later, he’d mentioned that Sarah had developed some rather difficult-to-fix injuries. However, a couple of years after that, he reappeared, with new photos of Sarah Marie. Using discrete angles and a wee bit of Photoshoppery, he restored her to her former glory. Most importantly, he still loved her tremendously, and that reflected heavily in his photographs. And that’s how it’ll be with myself and Sidore-chan. Even if we never do another photoshoot again (bite your tongue! say her fans), I still love her, and that’s all that really matters..

Nick did some more filming in and around the house — me giving the penny tour, etc etc — and later that afternoon, stomachs began to rumble, so they suggested getting something to eat. I suggested Nippon kai, quickly following that up with suggesting we bring Monti. So we swung round to hers and had a fine, filling dinner with some fine, filling conversation. It was kinda funny though; as Tanya was driving us to the restaurant, and didn’t know how to handle the concept of the left-turn centre lane — it perplexed her. It’s okay, Tanya — we’re just now getting roundabouts in the Tri-county area, and the first time I encountered one, I feared for my life.
Three (or three and a half) hours later, we dropped Monti off back home, and the Britons decided to take advantage of the early Saturday eve, so they wanted to get a number of shots of me in downtown Royal oak amongst people. If I could’ve blanched visibly, I would have. They got some footage of me walking up and down Main a few times, and then we got to a street corner bench, and they filmed me sitting and looking moody/slightly uncomfortable. This went on for roughly an hour. At one point, Nick was getting an over-the-shoulder shot, and some lass had come up and asked what was going on. ‘He’s a musician,’ Nick told her — which, technically isn’t a lie, as I have played music before. ‘Is he famous?’ she asked. ‘Not yet,’ he answered.
At the risk of making this post even longer, Rant alert: ‘Is he famous?’ has to rank amongst one of the most stupid fucking questions in the entire history of Man. Not in the context of am I personally famous, but just as a general question applied to anyone. It presupposes that if a person asks that and the answer is ‘no’, then the subject in question is entirely unworthy of attention. However, if the answer is ‘yes’, then that increases the subject’s worth in the eyes of the one asking the question. Why would you ask someone else if someone is famous? Don’t you think that’s the sort of thing you can determine yourself, without any influence from other parties? It just stands out to me as yet another example of people being told how to think. Pffft. ‘Is he famous?’ Of course I’m fucking famous!

At that point, it was getting late, and after a stop at Stucci’s ice cream parlour, we headed out of Royal oak proper. (Interesting sidenote: as Nick was seated in the back pretty much all day, I’d noticed on more than one occasion that he would wrap the seatbelt round his head, like a durable nylon headband. I just felt I had to mention that.) Nick & Tanya wanted to see ‘Superman of the Caribbean Returns’, but as I was well knackered and about to tumble headlong into a food coma, I passed on the offer. So they dropped me off home; hugs and handshakes were exchanged, and they promised they’d warn me before the show was aired, which they say should be before the end of Autumn. When I know, you lot will know, as per usual. And with that, the filmmaking duo got back into their rental, and drove off. Hope they didn’t get stuck in I-75 construction traffic..

So! Another (hopefully good) television interview thang in the can, Sweetie’s back in my life, and all is Right with the World. Well done!

Technorati tags: Davecat, Sidore, RealDoll, iDollator, MontiLee

Random similar posts, for more timewasting:

Circus Minimus: The biggest lion so far on August 1st, 2008

What Would Loki Do?, Part III on October 5th, 2006

5 have spoken to “The Geordie Film Experience, Part II”

  1. MontiLee writes:

    I noticed that about Nick too – the seatbelt thing. I dismissed it as just one of those things *the English* simply did.

  2. PBShelley writes:

    A wonderful story and a(n) (almost) pleasant time was had by (nearly) all!

    Bummer about Sidore’s injuries, but as long as her sweet face is done up right, the other repairs you can handle ably, I’m sure 🙂

    I’m looking forward to the Rilly Big Shew, and am glad that your memories will be good ones.

    I’ve been a bit scarce due to my roomie’s cracking of the whip in getting her story out, but keeping an eye out when I can!

    Hugs to the Missus and yer fine self for getting the job done, from Lily and Myself. Eden is still being “indoctrinated” 😉 (not a hugger, yet!)

    PBS, Lily, & the Other One (LOL)

  3. SafeTinspector writes:

    So is your silicone mate repaired yet? What, exactly, is in that kit? Magic? Smelly, epoxy magic?

  4. Wanda writes:

    I winced when I read how Sidore came out of the magic box; you would think with the most famous RealDoll in the world Dr Jackson would have done a better job…
    Oh…the famous thing–like I totally get that. One time Huell Howser was filming an episode of his series in front of the private club where I worked as my gal pal and I came traipsing out and we chatted a bit while his cameraman pointed the camera in our general direction. Then while we stood back and watched him do his thing, a tourista gingerly approached us and asked if we were famous. “Sure!” asserted my friend. “Ohhhh!” oohed the tourista, then asked if she could take our picture, which she proceeded to do while we mugged outrageously. I suppose when she shares her vacation memories she will point to this snapshot and say, “And here are two famous girls!” To which the response will be, “Oooh!”
    Well, I hope we can see the TV program when it becomes available. You do realize, DaveCat, that you actually are famous….

  5. Davecat writes:

    Well, their ways are not our ways.
    When he did that, he kinda reminded me of the way Dennis Hopper’s character looked in ‘Apocalypse now’.

    SafeT / PSB (Pet Shop Boys) and ladies –
    Well, I just finished sealing up the last of Sweetie’s wounds last night; the total repair time being about just under two hours (not counting curing time). I think either this Sunday or next, I’m going to have another go at attaching some press-on nails. Dr Jackson said to rough up the undersides of the nails with some sandpaper, so the adhesive would have a textured surface to grip. Why did that not occur to me the first time??

    The repair kit (well, my repair kit — a lot of the contents I added myself) contains a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a couple of tubes of silicone adhesive, some wooden stirrer sticks (aka tongue depressors), some flat toothpicks, some two-part silicone (one bottle silicone, one bottle activator), a pair of cuticle scissors, some cottony swabs, a bag of cotton balls, and my stapler (the staples are used to hold the wounds closed). The adhesive has a miserable vinegary smell, but newly-mixed silicone smells like love itself. I simply cannot get enough of that aroma..

    Wanda –
    That’s a fab little story! But y’know what? You’re famous too, especially in the eyes of that tourista. She asked, and you and your mate confirmed it! Brilliantly done. 🙂

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