Monday, 31 October 2016

Halloween Movie Review Special - The Early Grusome Work of Peter Jackson

The Witching season is upon us once again and the all the Ghosts and Ghoulies and Werewolves and Witches are out on the prowl trying to eat your brains or valet your car or some such evil thing of pure evilness. So any reasonably sane human being would stock up on milk and cookies, lock the doors and watch a bit of telly.
There are so many horror movies you could watch out there but we thought we would try and recommend a couple that you may not have heard of that come from a very unlikely source. So we would like to recommend to you the earliest films from Oscar winning director Peter Jackson in all their blood soaked wrongness!

Bad Taste, made in 1987, is a low-budget miracle of gore. It all the more fascinating being that was written, produced and directed by Peter Jackson who has gone on to make major waves in Hollywood with his full length documentary series about nature rambles in the Shire. The story follows Derek, Barry, Ozzy and Frank a military group sent to a small New Zealand town where the population has gone missing. They discover that aliens have invaded the town and sliced the towns folk into tender chunks and packed them in boxes, ready to use as fast food on their home planet.

Bad Taste is exactly that, you will need a strong stomach to get through some of the more unpleasant scenes. However, as gratuitous as some of the movie is it is inventive and hilariously funny. The star of the show is team member Derek – who after literally bashing his brains out after a nasty fall – goes a bit bonkers and will stop at nothing to bring about the downfall of the alien baddies. “I’m a Derek …and Derek’s don’t run” is a particularly brilliant battle cry.

The boys mow their way through the town of aliens leaving blood, guts and grue in their wake. It is all obviously very cheap to look at especially almost 30 years after it was made, but when you think that Jackson made all the effects himself, on a shoestring budget, they are very inventive in all their repulsiveness. The look of the movie adds to the enjoyment and the tounge in cheek humour as well as the near vomit inducing unpleasantness of it all. It is the fact that the film is so funny that help you pull through some of the more gratuitous gory moments.
This movie isn’t particularly scary but it is a definite must see for all you gore hounds out there.
All this said – the trailer I have found is truly awful and obviously suffers from having to have all the good bits left out for censorship reasons…which means it’s quite staggering that it’s more than three seconds long. Here it is for you to look at but trust me watch the movie in all its gory glory…which is very hard to say with a mouth full of towns person!

Now we have seen many horror movies in my time. Many are fantastic and many are Saw 3 – 7. No matter how good they are though there is only one nightmare cinema we have seen that, in the screening we went to, had no less than three members of the audience rushing out the door heading, hand over mouth, to lose £3.50’s worth of mega bucket popcorn into the lavatory. That movie was the greatest splatter movie ever made.

In 1992 soon to be Hobbit botherer Peter Jackson made his third censor bating motion picture Braindead or Dead Alive as it is known in the States. Bad Taste set a bar in unpleasantness that Braindead grabbed and threw javelin like through half a dozen zombies with a dizzy combination of clever set pieces, humour and  enough blood, grue and severed limbs to soak most of New Zealand….and a bit of Tasmania.

The story follows love-lorn hero Lionel, who is living under the thumb of his tyrannical mother Vera. His life is made all the more awkward when mother is bitten by a cursed  Sumatran Rat Monkey whilst on a trip to the local zoo. The bite turns Vera into a zombie and of course she manages to infect various locals, who in turn infect others, all for Lionel to have to deal with in a climatic zombie massacre involving a lawnmower that has to be seen to be believed.

Like Bad Taste before it the movie is chock full with inventive nastiness that will indeed have you reaching for, and into, a sick bag. It’s all done very tongue in cheek and with a Pythonesque sense of humour. In a dinner scene involving “nice and creamy” custard for desert, Vera’s ear falls off and is gobbled up in such away you will be so completely grossed out that you can’t understand why you are laughing. A standout scene of comic genius has the local Vicar taking out a gang of rockabilly zombies in a kung-fu fight that puts Bruce Lee to shame. “I kick ass for the lord!!!” is his sermon for the evening.

Braindead obviously had a much bigger budget than Bad Taste but is still obviously a pretty low one. However, Jackson works wonders with FX that we are treated to, among others, a zombie baby (that meets a particularly nasty end involving a blender) ,a  giant zombie and zombie guts attached to a brain stem that stops to preen itself in the bathroom mirror.

So this Halloween check out these amazing movies, probably best to wait until after you have had your tea, and see the beginning of the trajectory that lead Peter Jackson to become one of the greatest directors of all time, and ask yourself when he is going to get back to his splatter roots. Now, where did I leave those sick bags?

The Horror of A Thousand Cliches - A Blog Paper Original Chiller!

As the moon rises, and darkness falls, clouds cast shadows where shadows do not belong. As you wander lonely through the forest, the short cut home your friends told you about. Your friends that you left at the camping ground to finish getting drunk just before the midnight skinny dip in the bitterly cold lake. The same lake where all those crazy teenage kids years before went skinny dipping only to disappear, never to be heard of again. Only a bloody severed thumb was ever found in a tent by the authorities the next morning. 

A few minutes back you tried calling your friends when you thought you had clumsily gone off the trail that takes you to your front door. You were sure that you should have turned left at the make shift pet cemetery you passed. You make a mental note to come back soon and put straight the pussy cat grave you disturbed in the darkness. The call you made connected, but signal is bad in amongst these trees, you couldn't make out a voice as such interference on the line just sounded like heavy breathing, a throaty cough or growl. 

Crack! Behind you an almost imperceptible movement flickers across your peripheral vision, or did it? Something, or someone, must have made that noise. The air seems to become thicker, you notice a mist floating low, across the mossy floor of the forest. It seems to be coming from the graveyard with the glow of a low level radiation spill that lies just beyond the horizon and just in front of the Smithers house. 

How you used to laugh at all those stories you heard in the playground about old man Smithers. How he got fired from his job only to come home to find his wife cheating on him with Jeffery Bob Jenkinson the same guy that was given Smithers' job at the old saw mill. He went to the kitchen to get a drink only to find all his beer had been drunk by his alcoholic dog Stumbles. He sat down on his tired, worn out sofa with his tired, worn out butt, turned on the t.v. and all that was on was re-runs of American Idol. The rest was history, Smithers, his wife, Jenkinson and Stumbles all went missing that night. All that was found was a bloody severed thumb on the remote control. Some say Smithers went mad that night and and murdered everyone in the house before killing himself by chopping off his head with an axe by the old milestone in the woods - which is very hard to do and takes a huge amount of conviction. Others say he is now a sales assistant in the Southampton branch of Subway, in charge of pepperoni and the cups for the Pepsi machine.

The chill in the air cuts through you like a masked maniacs machete so you pull up the collar on your coat. More noises and the sudden appearance of a dozen bats flapping their way to the safety of the cave makes you quicken your pace, your footsteps speed matching the beat of your near terrified heart.

The Cave. You had forgotten about the cave. You must be near to home now, the cave is were you used to play as a kid. Such happy times. Memories of when you and Johnny Flappendorf used to play hide and seek in there take your mind off the growing fear for just a moment. You almost laugh when you remember when you saw Johnny running from the mouth of the cave screaming, incoherently, something about the bats changing, morphing into hideous near human forms of themselves. That was he same day he mysteriously lost one of his thumbs. 

Wait! If that is the cave then ...yes, there it is, your back gate! You can see a light flickering from the backroom window. It is mums seance night, all of her friends will be there. Veronica Dribblethwate, Richard Richard O.B.E., Reverend Moobe among others.

Footsteps. You thought you had heard them before but passed it off as your imagination. There they are again, louder, quicker. You run now, run for the back gate. A rough tree root trips you, just a few yards from the gate, you feel the tendons in your ankle tear just before hit the floor.

The thud of each footstep gets closer, the sound against the cold forest floor filling your blood with fear. Fear blood that is pumped by the heart of destiny around the body of suspected doom via the veins of impetuous terror!

You drag yourself to the gate, every inch closer seems to take a lifetime, ironically, as your lifetime now seems to be nearing a very quick, untimely end.

Doom, doom, doom the footsteps shout.

Thankfully the gate is unlocked. You manage to drag yourself to your feet and hobble to the back door. Through the window you can see your mother sitting in her favourite chair, the candle light casting her silhouette on the wall.

DOOM, DOOM, OOOOF go the footsteps as the gate you let swing back behind you hits something clean in the face.

As you fumble for your keys, and search for the one that will open the door to safety you hear the gate swing wide open and bash against the garden gate. You wonder to yourself why do you need so many damn keys on your key ring. No wonder they rub through your trouser pocket and leave your thighs all raw and spotty. That wasn't easy to explain to Tracey Tuckerface that night when she was convinced you had something contagious.

Yes! You find the one you need, turn the lock and fling the door open and closed again. Seconds before you could swear you could feel the leather of gloves brush against your hair as your pursuer makes a desperate grasp for your neck. You fall back on the door, exhausted, sweaty, a bit smelly and happy to be in the clutches of safety and not some mystery mad man.

"Hello dear, I've been waiting for you, your dinner is in the oven" the soothing voice of your mother puts your psyche back on track, letting you know everything is ok. She leans towards the wall and flicks the light switch.

As the bulb hums to life, it bathes the dining room table with light, displaying the culinary treat your mum has lovingly prepared for you. The table, covered in candles almost melted away and dead bodies. You recognise Veronica, the Reverend, Richard and a few others besides. Oh look, there's Tracey! A smile springs to your face as you turn to your mother in delight.

"Awesome, thanks mum. My favourite, thumb pie!"

Friday, 28 October 2016

Blog Paper's Comedy Heroes : Dave Barry

Recently I found myself turning 41 years of age. I woke up in the morning of my birthday and was surrounded by balloons of all different colours , adorned with pictures of all my favourite comic book characters. Spider-man, Hulk, Captain America and many of their co-workers from whatever collective world saving troupe Marvel have them representing at the moment.
You can read that last paragraph if you wish, but you will find you did read correctly. I am 41 years old. I was incredibly pleased with my balloons, especially when I got to bop them about the place. I also performed a particularly unsuccessful scientific experiment to see how far a balloon can be propelled into the air by an act of human flatulence – something I believe requires further experimentation to be funded by some sort of government grant.
You see, this behaviour is typical of someone with my condition. It is a medical condition that strikes mainly males and is most evident in their mid-life years. I am Maturity Impaired.
I was made aware of this impediment by a leader in the field, in fact the man who I believe discovered this prominent social disorder. One Mr Dave Barry.

I have been an avid fan of Mr Barry for over 20 years. I discovered his column in the back of a Sunday magazine that came free with one of the newspapers we had that week. These were re-prints of his U.S. syndicated column written for The Miami Herald. That copy of the magazine was almost instantly ruined, as what I read struck me so funny that as I laughed half the bottle of coke I was drinking shot out of my nasal cavities all over the paper.
This was not to be the last time the writing of Dave Barry caused me some public embarrassment. Whilst travelling home from work a few years later, waiting on a quiet platform for the train, I was reading Dave Barry in Cyberspace. It details the many benefits that computers and, the then in its infancy – or at least awkward teenage years, internet could provide the human race. This included the fact that an anagram of Winston Churchill is Hurls Cow Chin Lint. How this pertained to the use of and maintenance of a P.C. I have no idea. I do know, however, that it made me let off a laugh so loud that it measured 9.5 on the Richter scale and caused the man next me shoot in the air about 20 feet. To this day I am not sure if they got him down from that lamppost.
Back then it was extremely difficult to be a fan of Dave’s work and be English at the same time. I bought the newspaper that featured his column every week for a few months, throwing away most of the news bits unread, but carefully cutting out that weeks hilarious column and placing it into my newly created folder which I intended to become a tome to pass down the generations as being a collection of major historical and literary significance not dissimilar to the collected works of Shakespeare and the complete Calvin and Hobbes. However, my project was halted when through some vast editorial oversight the column was dropped from the magazine! What was I to do!! I couldn’t just wonder into a bookshop and ask for any books that might have been written by Dave. We did no have access to Amazon and it’s library of books from across the world available from a penny (or with free delivery if you sign up for Prime at roughly £97.83 a year…bargain!) I didn’t even know if any books existed. So I did what any student on a budget would do to find out.
I flew to the States.
Such was my dedication to the cause. Actually, truth be told I was on holiday with my parents but I was like a man possessed buying every item that wasn’t easily available in jolly old England by Mr. Barry and other artists. To my joy I found there were literally too many books and CD’s for my travellers checks to deal with (about 10). I also had the pleasure, on going through customs on the way home, of trying to explain to a particularly nosey agent who “Weird Al” Yankovic was.
These days I can happily troll the internet for the latest writing from my Pulitzer prize winning hero, and I recommend you do the same. There  are some 30 plus books (here I am using Mr Barry’s preferred journalism method of as little research as possible) to choose from that cover Dave’s unique spin and advice on every subject imaginable from Travel to D.I.Y and Politics to Exploding Whales. All are covered with liberal doses of Dave’s laid back, care free sense of humour which make them all an easy read. I would particular recommend starting with my personal favourite Dave Barry’s Bad Habits a collection of some of his finest columns which test very highly on the “little bit of wee came out” laugh-o-meter. If, like myself, you have just reached the landmark 40 years Dave Barry turns 40 is essential reading as you will be guided in the safe expert hands of a professional humour column writer through the highs and lows of such a confusing and flabby time of life.
If I have to be critical of anything regarding the complete works of this weeks chosen spotlight artist there are two things that bother me. The first is very few of his books are published as a standardised size for clinical collection and displaying on a bookshelf in a manner that satisfies a mild case of O.C.D. – makes ones shelf look very shoddy indeed. A stronger complaint would have to be that I am now doomed to say “…is a good name for a rock band” after many things that are said to me in general conversation for the rest of my life. Dave often points out during his text random phrases that would make fantastic names for bands and it is a lot of fun, and as it seems, habit-forming. Some examples of great band names from this blog so far are as follows –
Surrounded by Balloons
Instantly Ruined
Exploding Whales
It’s a great game to play as long as you can keep it in check or you may find friends and relatives offering you friendly and relative black eyes on a regular basis.
Dave has also written some great novels. My particular favourite is Tricky Business, favoured mainly because although I own copies of all his novels, this is the only one I have got round to reading. Insane City has a very good front cover and Big Trouble I believe has a bit in it about a character and people he, or she interacts with, and stuff happens.
It was in one of Dave’s books that I first became aware of maturity imparedness. Due to my  love of jokes involving navel fluff, beer and boogers,  and other behavioural traits such as imagining the Spongebob Squarepants theme tune coming out of the end of those flute like e-cigarettes every time I see someone using one, I knew I suffered from this crippling condition. If this means I enjoy humour columns even more because of it, then I am quite happy to carry the problem as a badge of honour.
I have been lucky in my life to have met many of my heroes. Unfortunately I have yet to meet Mr. Barry but have always felt he would be a fascinating person to sit and chat with, have a beer and share theories on flatulence based balloon propulsion. Here’s hoping he may visit the U.K. one day so I can make my dream come true…..the chatting and beer thing….not the flatulence.

For more accurate info on Dave Barry please visit

Wednesday, 26 October 2016

Blog Paper's Movie News: Unclogged! - w/c 24th Oct 2016

Welcome to Movie News: Unclogged! Your guide to the weeks best headlines in Hollywood. The news is true, some of the details are not.

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them won't be in cinemas until 18th November, but it has already been announced that J.K. Rowling will be working a further five movies in the series. The fifth of these films will be split into two parts, 5a and 5b with 5b being turned into a further two movies 5b.1 and 5b.2. This pattern will carry on until all the money in the world has been hoovered up into the Potter World coffers or the end of the world arrives, which ever comes first. Possible titles for the movies are Fantastic Beasts and How to Fondle Them, Fantastic Beasts and Exploitation of Wallets and Fantastic Beasts Vs Superman.

There are worries that Hollywood is in turmoil as no new movies to star Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson have been announced this week. Johnson, who is currently filming the sequel to family classic Jumanji, has an estimated 727 projects in development all for release next year. It is expected that, with the sudden three days down time in his schedule Dwayne will be able to use the bonus day it allows him to develop new muscles previously unknown to the human species.

The Smithsonian kick started a kickstarter campaign to help raise money to carry out preservation work on Dorothy's iconic ruby slippers as worn by Judy Garland in The Wizard of Oz. They hoping to raise $300,000 help conserve the shoes that have lost some of their sparkle over the last 80 years. It is believed that most of the money required will be raised by donations from Bay Area drag artists alone. There is, however, no plan to use an excess donations to help preserve Steven Segal's chef hat from Under Siege.

Awesome actor J.K. Simmons noted, in an interview with Entertainment Weekly, that he is very excited to be working on the next Batman movie with Ben Affleck. His take on beloved D.C. character Commissioner James Gordon will first be seen in Zac Snyder's Justice League movie next year. It is believed he will have a greater role to play in Affleck's "The Batman" currently in pre-production. Simmons says that his iteration of Gordon will be "more bad ass." Possibilities of a Suicide Squad make over with "To Protect and Serve" tattooed on his forehead have yet to be verified.

Boo! A Madea Halloween beat Jack Reacher; Never Go Back into submission at the U.S. box office with a $27.6 million take this weekend. Boo! Written, directed, produced, catered by and starring Tyler Perry is part of a long running series of movies featuring the outspoken matriarch that is largely unknown in other territories like  the U.K. Studio executives intend to address this problem by creating a Madea extended universe in the Marvel style. Expect Madea Vs. Big Momma to hit the screens in 2018.

Deadpool 2 has hit the headlines this week with the unfortunate news that the project has lost it's director Tim Miller who has left the sequel to his smash hit over creative differences. The news still hot off the presses has already spurred fans of the merc with a mouth to start a petition to have the directors chair filled with the prestigious butt of Quentin Tarantino. The Blog Paper office finds this prospect very exciting but we would like to propose an alternative of Terry Hughes, veteran director of The Golden Girls as a Wade Wilson Vs Blanche spin off just sounds too good to miss. 

In other Deadpool 2 news four actresses are being considered for the role of Domino. They are looking for an actress who is not a push over and can be counted on.

Tune in next week for more of Blog Paper's Movie News: Unclogged!

Monday, 24 October 2016

The word Geek has been used a lot recently. For awhile it reached trendy status, which didn’t sit right with me. No end of beautiful people were wearing t-shirts, hats and socks proclaiming that they were a geek and that it was chic. There are all sorts of different types of geeky people or the differently hobbied to give them their p.c. collective name . They prowl every part of the globe seeking out conventions in packs. Mainly sticking together in their alpha groups – you have your Jedi’s, Hobbits, Whovians your Game of Thrones…ers. There are all sorts of exotic forms of nerdy life that can be found, it’s only a matter of time before David Attenborough does a series of documentaries discussing their mating and feeding rituals*. However, none of these amazing, lovely people, my people, have ever been trendy and probably never want to be.
Geek Chic - Wrong!
I have been a Geek all my life, since my dad sat me on the top of the chest freezer, in the darkened spare room, with a home projector whirring away next to me, showing single reels of The Three Stooges, Laurel and Hardy and as many Tom and Jerry cartoons my parents disposable income could afford. These reels were expensive. A full length feature film would be split into three or four reels and we could only ever afford one reel, I never did find out what happened at the end of Mary Poppins…tell me,did they ever get that room tidy? I watched the same shorts and bits of features over and over again, shouting out for my dad to change the reel once the end of the film made that lovely slap, slap, slap noise as it came off the spool. I was probably about five years old and from then on I was hooked. I am now 40 and have spent my life enjoying pop culture in all it’s forms, sharing my knowledge of such with my peers and wondering why women are not attracted to my rather natty collection of promotional Howard the Duck t-shirts. My point being, becoming a Geek is a life long profession to most and not a passing fad.
Geek Chic - Right!
Trendy “Geeks” would never been seen in public wearing a shirt with a cigar smoking, alien water fowl on it. A real geek would wear such garb as if flying a flag into some sort of battle of pride. A battle that would probably involve lightsabres and sonic screw drivers and maybe some little fellows with hairy feet**. What we wear are our colours, proclaiming our connection to some greater good, or greater t.v. show at least. Some how a pair of thick rimmed glasses became the emblem of Geekdom to the trendy set. Now I have seen real geek’s wearing all sorts of weird and wonderful things in my time, but very rarely a pair of horn rimmed specs. If anything was to be chosen as a true representation of geek haute couture I would probably pick a pair of fake pointy ears, or maybe that mask out of V for Vendetta.

I guarantee that any of the trendy types proclaiming to be Geek and proud had never done anything in the slightest bit geeky. Have they ever –
·        Flicked through every copy of Spider-man on the shelf to ensure purchasing the one with the least spine bend
·        Started a conversation “Buffy would never have done that because…”
·        Stood in line for 3 1/2 hours for the autograph of the guy that played some Bantha Poo in Jedi
·        Dressed in a rather obscene outfit as  Harley Quinn even though your body mass index suggests you probably shouldn’t put that much strain on lycra
·        Stared wide eyed at people dressed as Harley Quinn until retinas detached
·        Bought tiny plastic figurine of a favourite t.v character for three times your yearly wage
·        Paid twice the price for a plastic figurine of a favourite t.v. character because it has different paint on it than all the other ones
·        Alphabetised their movie collection and agonised for hours if A Good Day to Die Hard should go on the shelf next to the other Die Hards even though it doesn’t start with D
·        Gone into a cold sweat because they managed to edit together the ultimate version of Superman 3 from every release variant there has ever been
·        Done a really bad impression of Stewie Griffin saying “Cool Whip”

I guess maybe my irritation with the passing Geek trend is a bit harsh. Although these chaps and chappettes are obvious pretenders that don’t know their Transformers from their Go-Bots, they might have done some good for our numbers. For a few months there, we were acceptable. Quite often we are not, and are more embarrassing if anything. We are a minority after all and history has always had a problem with groups of smaller numbers than others. However, our numbers have started to swell, some of these “normal” people have started to slip over to the dark side…or the light side…depends what side you are on to start with I guess. Which is a lovely thing to behold.
That’s why I look forward to a convention or a comic mart. I love to be in a room full of like-minded, odd-looking weirdos, completely accepting of anyone who crosses their path. I look forward to having a good old chat with a complete stranger, dressed as a Wookie about the bit in Star Trek, Season 2, Episode 6 where Kirk’s communicator made a slightly different noise to all the other episodes.
* Never and Subway

** I once heard a story about a group of Star Wars fans getting in a fist fight with a bunch of Doctor Who fans, at a convention, over which was best. All of them dressed up as Jedi’s and Timelords beating seven shades of Jawa dung out of each other. I really hope this is true. The idea of an over-wieght Stormtrooper losing it at an under-wieght Cyberman and loosing a lightsabre where force doesn’t shine is pure gold!

Monday, 17 October 2016

Welcome one and welcome all to Blog Paper! Admission is free and no two drink minimum!

Now, I know what you are thinking. You are thinking "How on earth have I wondered into this god forsaken corner of the internet when I was clearly trying to find videos of doggies playing the Ukulele" Well I tell you how my friend, it is either Karma or Kismet. Let's go with the later because Karma would suggest you did something really rather naughty, possibly involving a frog, some cellophane and one of those little whisk things you get with gift sets of hot chocolate and marshmallows in a mug. You sir and/or madame do not look like a naughty person - you look like the dependable type, strong of character of whom their souffles never droop and always wash their undies with the right soap.

No, your being here is Kismet, it is meant to be, tis written in the skies. The stars have aligned into a formation that could only happen once in a lifetime, one that if looked at correctly would probably look like a dirty big arrow pointing at a laptop - or maybe some boobs, one or the other. You are supposed to be here at BLOG PAPER! The best little web site you never heard of.

Let me show you around.

Right here is Blog Paper Central. Over the coming weeks we are going to cover all sorts of pop culture topics. We will cover all the usual news and reviews for all that is current and trendy for all your blockbusters, t.v. seasons and musical tastes and anything and everything that relates to them..and quite at lot that doesn't. However, we will also be covering a lot of stuff that you haven't heard from for a very long time if at all. Everyone and their ukulele playing labradoodle will have a blog to tell you what they think about the latest superhero cinematic effort or how Walking Dead would be so much better if you swapped out the zombies for French, C.I.A. trained, Ninja Mimes. We want to bring your attention to the stuff that you might have flown under your radar because it didn't have much exposure or was deemed a bit rubbish on release but over time has actually blossomed into what could have been a genuine classic. We will cover everything from Abbott and Costello to Zelig. Don't know who or what they are? Exactly the point, stick around and find out!

There is a wealth of entertainment around the globe that just plain doesn't get released world wide and whole countries are missing out on. Which brings me to our sister site "Blog Paper's Corner Gas Corner". Down below is a little picture link, have a click on it and discover Canada's finest sit-com. This is a show that we found by accident, just like your good self and Blog Paper. Hopefully we will introduce you to what will become one of your new found favourite shows, so in return, we would like you to tell us about yours.

Do you have a favourite show, movie, book, band or mime that you think have been unjustly over looked or are just not getting the exposure that they deserve? Maybe, there is a movie that most consider truly woeful but you hold dear to your heart. Well tell us about it, we will look into and give them the write up they deserve. There is a link below for the Blog Paper e-mail, send us a message telling us about something you want to see on here in the weeks to come and we will do our best to sort it out.

We also have another site linked below, Blog Paper's Quick Wipes. Here you will find all sorts of goofy stuff to lighten your week. One liner's, poems and skits to make you giggle, guffaw and groan. Quick Wipes will also contain features about our Comedy Heroes for more feathers to tickle the posterior of your mirth.

In between all the geeky stuff, when the mood take us, we will cover all sorts of earth shattering current affairs and topics of a topical nature. For example soon we will look at the genetic fiddlisation that is the horse shaped cow.

Horse shaped cow milk now available from your preferred retailer

So like us, follow us, mail us. We have Twitter, Facebook and all that other clever stuff. Join in, get involved. Stick around - we got all the doggies playing ukulele you can shake a stick at - but don't shake a stick at them because they will stop playing the uke and chase the stick instead.