I'm a cold, callous, unemotional twat. I don't even react to the deaths of people related to me beyond being sad and brutally practical.
The first one that got me was Jim Henson.
The second was Oliver Postgate when I heard that he did a meet/reading once and all the middleaged people sat on the floor like children to listen to him.
The third was the fucking Warhorse puppet. Didn't even make it through the first 30 seconds and refused to watch the movie despite knowing it was largely bollocks (Granddad was one of the literal fucking children out there looking after the horses, not the officers). Then the bastard Mr D switched it on TV and promptly buggered off with the remote control as I had to try and find the off switch round the back of the TV with the poor fucking horses plodding through the pissing rain and mud with tears streaming down my cheeks and calling Mr D every name under the Sun.
I know, I know, I'm a twat. I'm a twat who thinks Watership Down is the most tender, loving, joyful depiction of death in literature/film and firmly believe it is a happy ending (whilst also being in bits over pets dying/being put to sleep).
And now I've admitted that I had *feelings* over these, if any of you mention it again, I shall just have to kill you.
The first one that got me was Jim Henson.
The second was Oliver Postgate when I heard that he did a meet/reading once and all the middleaged people sat on the floor like children to listen to him.
The third was the fucking Warhorse puppet. Didn't even make it through the first 30 seconds and refused to watch the movie despite knowing it was largely bollocks (Granddad was one of the literal fucking children out there looking after the horses, not the officers). Then the bastard Mr D switched it on TV and promptly buggered off with the remote control as I had to try and find the off switch round the back of the TV with the poor fucking horses plodding through the pissing rain and mud with tears streaming down my cheeks and calling Mr D every name under the Sun.
I know, I know, I'm a twat. I'm a twat who thinks Watership Down is the most tender, loving, joyful depiction of death in literature/film and firmly believe it is a happy ending (whilst also being in bits over pets dying/being put to sleep).
And now I've admitted that I had *feelings* over these, if any of you mention it again, I shall just have to kill you.