Tuesday, 12 February 2008


A totally unimaginative title I know, but it's the best I could come up with. In keeping with the new policy here at the Puttydrome, I felt it was time to post some pics of something actually made of putty. As everything else I'm doing is still at the 'work in progress' stage, here I present, by the gracious permission of Lord S, a couple more of the viking figs I've done for Gripping Beast.

First up is the musician from the command pack, wearing a gambeson and repositioning his horn ready for battle (no comments, please).

This one represents a young, fresh-faced warrior twisting to parry an attacker. I know the feet are too small, I enlarged them after the pic was taken.

That's it for today. I could fill space by droning on endlessly about the minutae of my everyday life since my last post, but since even I can't find anything of worth to write about, it would definately bore everyone else. So I won't bother.

Something new and definately not Norse next time.

Til then, take it easy.


Wednesday, 6 February 2008

Waffle, waffle, waffle

In all honesty, I haven't got anything worthwhile to say today. But I thought that given that I've just returned from my self-imposed exile from the world of blogging (and toy soldiers in general), I thought I would at least attempt to update this blog a little more frequently than every five months, lest my remaining 3 readers give up on it for good.

I started my new job on Tuesday and all is going swimmingly well. In fact it's an absolute doddle. I've worked for approximately 5 and a half hours and already earned more than I did for a 40-hour week in my last job. Super stuff. Not that I want to brag about it, cos I don't, but I had an incredibly black financial year in 2007 and it's great to land on my feet just for once. I'm a very happy bunny, at one with the universe, man.

Nothing doing on the sculpting front so far this week, despite my promises on my last post. I'm just chilling out doing a spot of painting for a change, and it's been wonderfully relaxing, a bit like acupuncture without all the spiky painful bits. Well, it looks bloody painful to me anyway. Oh, did I mention that I hate needles almost as much as vile, heartless arachnids? Rhetorical question really, I know that I've never mentioned it. Hence no tatoos on me, oh no, despite the exhortations of several partners that a tatoo would somehow enhance my appeal. I can't see how it would, but they may have had a point since I'm still single. If I want to look at pictures then I'll hang some on my walls, thankyou very much. Then I can run a full tatoo-simulation with them by smudging them with a green-paint soaked sponge after 25 years, and thus feel very smug
that I saved myself all that pain to achieve exactly the same end result. Viz Top Tip methinks!

How to make friends and influence people...I sometimes feel that I'm turning into my dad.

What else? I've been smoke-free for 7 months and 6 days, and I haven't even replaced my fags with another vice so I'm quite proud of myself for that. I think I'll celebrate with another weekend of binge-drinking to mark the occasion. Aftershocks all round, make mine a double.

More from me when I sober up...

TTFN, take it easy


Saturday, 2 February 2008

I'll Be Back...

Er... it appears that I'm here already. Ah well, I guess that's the kind of thing that happens when you live in a city apparently built on a fault-line in the space/time continium. If I lobbed a rock really, really hard from my back yard I might just be able to hit Torchwood, I live that close. I won't try though, just in case Captain Jack Harkness finds out it was me. I quite fancy Gwen calling around though.

Okay, it's been 4 or 5 months since I last did anything with this blog, so apologies to my legions of admirers for being such a slack git. I am profusely apologetic, and here's my pathetic attempt at justifying my absence...

Unfortunately for me, my almost legendary lethargic sculpting speed meant that important things like paying the bills and keeping a roof over my head were beginning to suffer, so in September I decided to face reality and do the grown-up thing by getting a proper job again. Luckily my former employers at Scottish and Southern Energy kept the door open for me and were only too happy to have me back in my old sales job again. The downside to selling gas and electricity to the general public is that you end up working until 7 or 8 o'clock most evenings, which leaves very little time or energy for doing anything else. And so sculpting had to take a back seat for a few months while I acted like an adult and earned some proper money.

I thought about adding some of my more amusing adventures to the blog, but since it is called 'The Puttydrome' I felt that anecdotes about predatory middle-aged women would be straying from the point somewhat, so I decided not to go there. Although the lady who read her gas meter for me as " sixty-nine sixty-nine, my favourite number" whilst maintaining eye contact and fixing me with a shark-like smile deserves an honourable mention. Plus, to be honest I was usually too tired to be arsed with blogging when I got home. I also felt that actually completing a sculpting project would make me feel a bit more comfortable about further chronicalling my efforts, so finishing the viking assignment for Gripping Beast became a prerequisite to continuing the blog. I didn't wannabee a wannabee, if you get my drift.

There you have it. And now I'm back. With a vengeance. The vikings are finished, the final pack was delivered last weekend at Crusade in Penarth. Due to some changes at work I managed to sculpt four berserkers in a week and hit my sales targets as well, and in the intervening week I've been 'headhunted' for a different job which will mean considerably less hours for considerably more money, leaving ample time for making toy soldiers. Woohoo! Don't tell my boss, I'll be giving him the good news on Monday.

Other stuff that's been happening...Daniel wanted loads of GW LoTR toys for Christmas and his birthday which is three days after Xmas (a very expensive time of the year), so I got him the Mines of Moria set and Warriors of Rohan, and he also got the Riders of Rohan box. Other family members chipped in with cash and GW vouchers, safe in the knowledge that they wouldn't be the ones spending hours assembling whatever Dan bought with them, which enabled him to buy an Uruk-Hai battalion box set. Groan. So once again I settled to the annual ritual of breathing in polystyrene cement fumes til my nostrils bled and I kept seeing things that the rational part of my brain told me really weren't there at all. It actually turned out to be a pleasant surprise as most of the figures are moulded in one piece as opposed to all the horribly fiddly bits that make up the average 40K figure, plus it gave me the opportunity to have a closer look at how the Perrys sculpt without having to buy figures I don't really need. All good stuff.

Um, this might also be a good time to point out that Dan also likes football, extreme sports, WWE wrestling and wants to be in a SWAT team when he grows up. In other words, a perfectly well-adjusted boy with lots of friends. Just in case I was giving the wrong impression. Er, 'nuff said.

This week i started painting the Saxons that I bought from Bill at Crusade, having given up on the Romano-Brits for the time being cos I just wasn't enjoying painting them. I'm hoping to finish them in a week or two so I can buy another unit and hopefully start gaming again soon (stop laughing, Bill). They're a pleasure to paint up, very nice figures, and I'm all enthused about them.

I also caught up with my old mate Woody recently, Anglo-Saxon Love-God, Hero of the British Empire and honorary Welshman, back from his second tour of dodging incoming in the Basra region. We met way back in '92 when he was my manager at GW Swindon, and within hours of meeting we embarked on a mammoth drinking-spree for the next two weeks. Hmm, I think it was actually more like three years. You know when you've got a good friend by the amount of times they tolerate you throwing up over their trainers. We really weren't good GW role-models at all. Then again, what the hell else can you do when you live in a place like Swindon? Anyways, when he's not involved in oppressing a sovereign state, Woody is carving out a successful career as a serial father, with two beautiful daughters and another sprog on the way. So a big shout to Woody and his long-suffering wife Zoe, I'm sure we'll be getting together soon for another 6X drinking competition. Oh dear, my head hurts already...

No pics this time, I'm doing some WW2 figs for myself so I'll post the results as and when I finish them.

Wales 26 England 19

Take it easy