Think you’ve done something stupid in your life? Well sit back and enjoy the tales of Trev’s misadventures across the globe
This week we’ve had a challenge from long time reader Trent. Trent has asked that I try the Hot Sauce: 357 Mad Dog, and subsequently film it.
Mad Dog has the moniker 357 because it’s rated at 357,000 Scoville, making it the second hottest sauce I’ve tried after God Slayer.
So watch the video below and enjoy the mouth-burning hi-jinks!
Related Articles:
Video: Big Angry Trev tried 15 Hot Sauces… in one bite!
Big Angry Trev vs God Slayer Hot Sauce
Big Angry Trev vs Australia’s Hottest Hamburger
A while back I told the tale of the one and only time I scored a speaking role in a movie that actually went to cinema – Strange fits of Passion.
Well next week I will be returning to my roots by doing another small speaking role, albeit on television rather than film. But when discussing the previous speaking role with friends last night, it put me in mind of an incident that happened on a different movie set – this time the 2000 TV movie – On the Beach.
This time I was a simple Extra playing a Submariner, and had the joy of the director making me shave off my goatee right there on set since my agent hadn’t deigned to inform me we had to be plain chinned. My defoliated face now freezing, I prepared for several days of pretending to talk in the background while Bryan Brown and Armand Assante did their thing up front for the movie cameras.
On the second day of the shooting this undersea aquatic adventure I was involved with an unplanned event, and it is truly the one and only time I have been swept away so much by a mob mentality that I didn’t even really realise what I was doing.
So sit ye down me hearties while I tell ye the tale of:
The Unsanctioned Food Fight!
The Set
We were in the ‘submarine mess hall’ set. Six tables set up with 6 sailors per table. Really low ceilings and submarine diagrams all over each wall, though it perhaps speaks to the budget of the film that none of these were even laminated and, I’m pretty sure, affixed with blu-tac.
Every Extra has a plate of food and a beer in front of them. The food was your standard meat & veg and ice cold, whilst the beer was both zero alcohol and warm. The glamorous life of movie acting eh!
The Incident
The scene was supposed to go like this: The decision has been made for the submarine to surface, which is going to result in the entire crew dying of radiation poisoning within a couple of weeks like the rest of the planet has always succumbed to. So as food no longer has to be rationed for months, this is to be the crews ‘final feast’. Hence why we have all this delicious food and beer in front of us.
There have been a couple of takes thus far. We Extras are fake eating our freezing cold mashed potatoes and meat with congealed gravy, and sipping from our horrid beers, all whilst fake chatting to each other in the way Extras do when the Director wants your lips moving but no sound coming out.
Then the Director made a big error in judgement.
The Director lent over to one of the Extras and whispers ‘This time, ‘accidentally’ spill some of the beer over your shoulder on to the guy behind you so it looks like you are all having fun’. The director did not inform the other Extra this would be happening to him – guess he was going for an authentically surprised look.
So the next take, the first Extra does as he is told and splashes the guy behind him with beer. But then that guy turned around and promptly splashed him back big time!
And now the mob mentality starts – I’ve never seen anything like it before or since!
With the precedent set by the two guys splashing each other, all 36 extras now stand as one. Like the command to arise was sent directly to our hindbrains and our legs operated on automatic. And thus the biggest food fight I’ve ever been a part of commences! Everyone is throwing at everyone else every bit of food they can lay their hands on! Mashed Potato Missiles and Meat Mortars fly through the air as beers are shook up and wannabe actors spray them on each other like drunken frat boys! The Director fled and so did the cameramen, no doubt to stop the horrendously expensive filming equipment getting soaked. When people had thrown everything on their plates they started scooping up already thrown food to throw once again. The air was full of beer and food and yelling and laughter!
After about two minutes it ended and the mob mentality faded. An eerie silence descended upon the room as all us paid-props looked around and realised what we had done. Food slowly unstuck itself from the ceiling with comedic little plops, the ink was running on all the diagrams on the wall because of the splashed beer -the set was trashed!
After about 20 seconds of complete silence there were a few nervous giggles. We were all so going to be fired!
The Aftermath
Well it turns out none of us got fired. If it had simply been one or two guys involved they would have been out on their arse, but you couldn’t have a movie where half way through the entire crew suddenly changes because you sacked the original actors. So we all got sent to sit outside in the sunshine for a couple of hours so that our uniforms would dry, and then got a stern talking to. The director was pretty pissy with us for the next few days as well, any tiny mistake by any Extra earned them a public berating. But hey – we were Extras – we were used to being treated like the crap you’d find on the main casts shoes so it didn’t worry us much. And a tiny portion of the food fight scene actually did make it into the movie so we were all pretty proud of that. You can see it here at the 4:55 mark.
So there ya go, the one and only time I can say that my individual will was truly subsumed by a mob mentality. A fascinating, oddly liberating and surprisingly fun experience.
Related Article:
My Immortal Words on the Big Screen
I’ve had a bit of a love affair with hot sauces over the years, and like most things which are not good for you, the more you indulge in them the bigger the hit you want the next time.
Many years ago I tried 15 different hot sauces in one bite. It was damn hot but overall it was fine. Then I tried Australia’s Hottest Hamburger, a challenge I sadly lost, ironically due to the burger making me nauseous more than the heat itself.
For Xmas 2018 my in-laws gave me two hot sauces, the first was:
Darkhorse
Aged 6 Years
Limited Edition
Super Hot Sauce.
An impressive title.
The second came in a smaller black bottle. It’s title simply read:
GOD SLAYER
FUCKING HOT SAUCE
At dinner we were having several kinds of meat so I decided to try these hot sauces out. I asked my 3 year old daughter which one I should try – the tall red and yellow bottle or the little black one.
Unfortunately for me, she picked the little black one.
Now before we continue I should introduce you to something called the Scoville Scale:
The Scoville scale is a measurement of the pungency (spiciness or “heat”) of chili peppers and other spicy foods, as recorded in Scoville Heat Units (SHU) based on the concentration of capsaicinoids, among which capsaicin is the predominant component.
Now to give you an idea of spiciness – your average tabasco hot sauce comes in at around 3,500 SHU. The Pepper Spray used by police to incapacitate people comes in at 5,000,000 SHU.
I have been unable to find a SHU listing for the Darkhorse. But God Slayer comes in at a whopping 6,400,000 SHU. That makes it (besides limited edition novelty releases) the third hottest commercially available hot sauce on the planet!
Of course, I did not know this at the time.
So I got some chicken and liberally coated it with God Slayer. Took a big old bite.
The effect was instantaneous. My lips, tongue and mouth in general were on spice-driven fire! If it had been a cartoon flames would have been shooting out of my mouth! I urged my brother-in-law to fetch some milk and spent the next several minutes using milk and bread and beer to try and put out the flames in my mouth.
After about 20 minutes I was OK and decided to try the Darkhorse Super Hot Sauce. Put some liberally on my pork and took a big bite. Like when I did the 15 hot sauces challenge and the chilli beer I had after tasted like water, this time the God Slayer had seared my tastebuds so much that I couldn’t even taste the Darkhorse. I had another helping 5 minutes later and found the same. So at this stage I had devoured 3 helpings of hot sauce in 45 minutes, one of them the 3rd hottest sauce on the planet.
The Effects
*At first I was fine
*Then my belly started to gurgle
*After that for about half an hour I became flatulent, to the amusement of myself if not others
*After that I became somewhat nauseous
*After that I felt quite nauseous so went and lay on the couch while the rest of the family continued to enjoy the Xmas festivities outside. Think I even had a little nap.
*Went back to my mother-in-laws to bed at around 10.30pm. Felt a bit nauseous still and had a tiny bit of a sweat on but nothing major.
*1am: Wake up and the backs of my hands were on fire! Looking at them I was surprised the flesh wasn’t blistering! Went and ran them under cold water.
*3am-7am: Up and down all night feeling nauseous, having hot flashes in my hands and feeling like I needed to defecate but couldn’t.
*8am: Wake up to nausea. Go and sit on toilet. Diarrhea finally hits and the song ‘ring of fire’ pops into my head as my body purges itself of molten lava from my rectum for at least half an hour.
8.30am: Start to panic. Am supposed to be taking my son and his friends to see the Bumblebee Movie for his birthday soon. Tell my wife she may have to go in my stead. She brings me water, pain killers and stomach pills for me to devour.
9.30am: Pills kick in. The ordeal subsides.
So it was a fairly horrible experience in the end. It turns out the heat in my hands was due to me drinking beer after the God Slayer. It essentially diluted it and put it into my bloodstream where it traveled around trying to find a place to vent the heat. As I was wearing pajamas the only parts of my body exposed and cool were my face and hands and thankfully it went to my hands.
So did this all happen purely due to the God Slayer or did the two helpings of Darkhorse contribute? So sigh…. I am going to have to test this so this blog post might have a sequel down the line. In the meantime, for the next few weeks at least, my mouth (and subsequently my colon) might give the hot sauce a wide berth.
Got a hot sauce experience of your own? Would love to read it in the comments section below!
Related Articles:
Kids. Can’t live with’em, can’t hook them up to a car battery and yell ‘FOR THE THOUSANTH TIME, CLEAN YOUR ROOM!’
Yep, as much as we love our kids they can frustrate us, especially when they show the same behaviours every day no matter what we say or what we try to teach them.
Having a 5 and 3 year old at home, dinner times could be very stressful in our household. You spend an hour in the kitchen preparing a meal that is both nutritious and tastes great, only for one of your kids to sit there with a look of pure revulsion on their face and go ‘Yuck! I hate this!’ before they have even tasted it! Meanwhile your other child has stripped off to just their underwear and is running laps around the table trying to catch the cat! It can drive you barmy!
We got tired of nagging our kids about some of their behaviours, and realised that everything we were doing was negative and reactive. So we decided to change tack and go proactive and my word it has made a world of difference!
How have we done this? Something very simple – The Star Chart System.
The concept is very simple. We assign each of our children 3 goals – one for the daytime, one for dinnertime and one for bedtime. These are printed out and stuck on the wall. Whenever one of our kids achieves one of these goals they get a star sticker that they put up on their chart. When they have gotten 7 stars for that particular goal then they get a prize!
Now I know that sounds somewhat like bribery and perhaps at a basic level it is. But it is more about changing your child’s mindset. Instead of it being about the negatives associated with doing the wrong thing, its focusing on the positive’s associated with doing the right thing.
As for prizes, it needn’t be anything lavish, especially if you are giving them out reasonably often. For kids it can be mainly about the excitement of getting the prize rather than having it. Each of our kids has a prize bag full of stuff and none of it cost more than $2 or $3. A quick trip down the toy and stationary isles of discount stores like The Reject Shop and you will find plenty of pencils packs, sticker sheets, fairy wings, army men, bubble wands and other assorted tat that will keep your kids occupied for an hour or two before they break it or lose interest.
The beauty of The Star Chart System is that you can adjust it to the every changing needs of your child. For instance with our 3 year old daughter we found that achieving 7 stars meant that she would lose interest as it was too long a timescale between tangible rewards. So we shortened her chart to she only needed to achieve 5. By doing so she was getting more prizes and thus became far more interested in the whole process. Admittedly she still struggles with her bedtime goal so we have reduced that to she only needs to get 1 star for a prize in the vain hope we can get a decent nights sleep. And of course, when they achieve their goal you put a line through all the existing stars and begin all over again until the desired behaviour becomes ingrained.
We also found that by having special stickers for the final square on their charts, they worked harder towards getting that last one done so that they could put up a frog or bear sticker instead of a star. Tweak the system as needed.
When it came to dinnertime, after only a month both our kids were achieving their goal on a daily basis, the chart working where months of nagging had not. But again, the beauty is you can change the chart. So instead of our son having to ‘Try all the food on my plate’ and our daughter ‘Stay in my seat and use my fork‘ we changed both to ‘I will eat all the food on my plate’. And I’m pleased to say that most nights both our kids are now achieving this! It has made perhaps the most stressful part of our evening as parents into something so much more positive and relaxed for the whole family.
So if you are sick of nagging your kids, and your kids are sick of getting nagged, give The Star Chart System a whirl – you will be glad you did!
Got any comments about the above? Would love to read it in the comments section below!
Related Articles:
Househusband Tales #3 – The Library Playgroup
A couple of days ago I posted the video of my mate Brendan and I going skydiving (the video can be found HERE).
Since then, I have pieced together all the clips that contain extra footage and, more importantly, do not have an accompanying soundtrack so you can actually hear what is being said… or screamed (many apologies for the watermark that periodically appears).
I take a certain pride when watching this video that I am one of the very few that didn’t yell or scream when leaving the plane, but as you can tell from my expression that’s probably because I was so terrified my vocal chords were frozen.
So enjoy the second video of Big Angry Trev skydiving!
Oh, and for you Transformer fans, you’ll appreciate the reference made just before Brendan and I left the plane, even if it was a bit of a role reversal.
Related Articles:
Video: Big Angry Trev goes Skydiving!
Video: Big Angry Trev Bungy Jumps!
Well, I did it, I skydived.. er… I skydove… um… I jumped out of a plane!
Along with my friend Brendan, we took the plunge in Picton NSW. T’was a beautiful day for it and we were in good spirits with much joking around as they took us through some very basic training and fitted us with harnesses which made me thankful that I already had all the kids I want.
When the plane took off, I got a bit nervous. When the door opened, I got a bit petrified! And as you will see in the video, those first few seconds out of the plane gave my face the ability to convey horror in a way it had never been capable of before.
But after those initial few seconds, the euphoria took over. It was amazing! It is kinda silly to think I was white-knuckling it when in a plane with a seatbelt, yet totally exhilarated when plummeting towards the ground from over 4 kilometres in the air at over 200kph! The freefall was definitely the highlight and an incredible experience that I cannot recommend highly enough – everyone should try it at least once in their lives!
Way too soon for my liking the chute was pulled and freefall ended, leaving me to hang like a slab of meat off the front of my instructor as for the next few minutes we floated towards the ground. It was so serene and silent up there, I could have happily stayed in the air all day. Fear was non-existent, calm bliss was in abundance.
After we landed, rather than thanking the powers that be and kissing the ground, all I could think was ‘I wanna go again!’
Enjoy the below video: Big Angry Trev goes Skydiving!
Related Article:
Video: Big Angry Trev Bungy Jumps!
One week I am taking a plunge, a huge plunge. I am going skydiving.
To be honest, the idea is scaring the hell out of me! But, with that idiotic male mindset, I fear backing out and not being able to look myself in the mirror more than taking the dive.
This upcoming battle with gravity has reminded me of the last time I did something of this ilk. My girlfriend and I were travelling around New Zealand in 2005 and we came to Queenstown, widely considered the home of extreme sports. As we drove into the town my girlfriend, rather cunningly I might add, said “Well one of us has to Bungy Jump while we are here, and I’m not doing it”. Since there were only two of us in the car, that left me with the short straw.
When it came to the jump, I’d like to say I strode out confidently but in truth I was, if you will pardon the expression, shitting broken glass! In fact I have to give some of the credit to me actually doing it to the jumper in front of me. It was a 16 year old girl with her g-string about an inch above the back of her jeans. If she wasn’t going to chicken out, how could I as a 27 year old man wearing sensible underwear?
So, with every sense in my body screaming at me that this was really stupid, I took the plunge! IT. WAS. FANTASTIC! It was so odd that I had been so scared beforehand and then after doing it all I wanted to do was to do it again! I can certainly see why people by day passes for unlimited jumps.
So, in prelude to my skydiving endeavor next week (and if something goes wrong, thanks for reading folks!) enjoy the below video of Big Angry Trev Bungy Jumping.
So here I am, six months into my new career as Househusband. And I have started having dreams.
No, not the recurring dream I’ve had for the last 15 years, where I am in a toy store finding all these rare Transformers, but whenever I get to the checkout my basket is empty. Nor the dream where all the girls I went to High School with think I am now unbearably sexy, but my car breaks down on the way to the orgy. Not even the dream with all the flying teeth, the marmoset and the repeating accordion music.
No, in these dreams I have gone back to work.
The dreams are all pretty much the same. I’ve slunk back to my old place of work in order to take up the career I left behind. I’m trying to do the best I can at my job, whilst anxiously trying to avoid the gaze of my bosses – which come to think of it is what I was always trying to do when I actually did work there (and every other place I was ever employed).
I know what is behind these dreams. It’s not a desire to go back to my old career – its guilt.
That’s right, guilt. I stay at home while my wife goes off to work and it’s getting to me.
I’m wondering if other Househusbands experience this kind of guilt. Perhaps it dates back to the cavemen. The caveman went out during the day, defending the home from sabre-toothed tigers and clubbing huge hairy mammals into submission to bring back for the cavewoman to skin and cook up. And thousands of years later my man instincts are telling me that I should be the provider, making sure there is meat on the table for my woman and offspring. Certainly the few male friends I’ve made since we moved up here have manly jobs – most of them work in the mines. They break rocks while I play dollies with my daughter. Yes I have big plans on how to make money out of our farm, but those will take years to bear fruit. Does that make me the equivalent of an unemployed drummer, living off his girlfriend while he assures her that ‘one day our band is gonna be big baby!’?
All sounds very misogynistic I know, but I don’t think that’s exactly where my brain is coming from. It’s not that I have any problem with my wife working. I don’t feel that she should be at home – it’s I feel I should be out working. When I was the one working, my wife still had income coming into the family home via maternity leave pay. I’ve gone from an annual 6 figure income to a 3 figure one – not exactly a ‘pay off the house’ wage. On the upside it’s helped me keep away from cigarettes, no way can I justify spending my wife’s hard earned money on cancer sticks for myself. On the downside, it means that financially we rely on her completely, which my subconscious tells me is not fair on my beautiful bride.
Maybe it’s a ‘not having a job’ thing. I’ve either being doing educational courses or working (or often both) since I was 16. To not be studying and to not be going to a place of employment – it’s great but again… those dreams.
Part of me is telling my subconscious to shut the hell up. That I enable my wife to be able to work. I make her coffee every morning and pack her lunch. I take care of the kids and the house while she is out and then cook her dinner every night. I make sure she has clean clothes to go to work in, though the one job I always still ask of her is folding and ironing – I’m pretty crap at both.
But then another part of me is saying that that part it is full of shit. My wife could easily make her own coffee & she could go to a cafe during her lunch break. We could get babysitting for the kids on the days they are not at preschool. We could share the cooking, washing and general household chores. That part yells that my wife could still work without me being at home, that I’m just making excuses.
So what is the answer? I don’t know. I certainly can’t go back to my old career – it was in another state and we aint moving again any time soon. Our new location is so remote there are very few jobs to be had and even if there were there are no dedicated daycare facilities for the kids up here. And this farm actually does take a lot of looking after – 120 acres does not just care for itself.
So maybe I need to feed the part of me yelling at my subconscious some rare steak, some raw eggs and a few beers so it can beef up and drag my subconscious into my brains equivalent of a back-alley to kick seven shades of shit out of it. Maybe I need to not be a deep-down misogynist and realise we are not cavepeople and it doesn’t need to be me subduing the sabre-tooth tiger. Maybe I need to take the long view and remember that when both our kids are at school in a couple of years I’ll be in a position that I can bring money into the household once again.
Or maybe I need to stop whining, stop the self-guilt and be grateful for how good I’ve got it.
Are you a Househusband and experienced these feelings? Or maybe you can shed light on this kind of existential drama? Would love to read it in the comments section below!
Related Posts:
Househusband Tales #4 – Judgement Day
Househusband Tales #1 – Pampering Poorly Perfected
Random Rants: It’s valid for you to feel stressed
There are lots of cool ages. When you turn 18 you are legally an adult – able to get pissed and drive at will (even if not at the same time). When you turn 21 it usually signals finishing your higher education and departing off into the big world. When you turn 30, it’s a celebration of surviving all the stupid shit you did in your teens and twenties.
When you turn 40 however – it just means you are f*cking old
Well loyal readers, today I turn 40. And I can confirm it is not a cool age to turn. No teenager thinks turning the big Four Oh will be fun and they are right. I don’t feel cool, I don’t feel special, I don’t feel like I am on the cusp on a great adventure. What I do feel is a tiredness in my limbs, a soreness in my back and a general irritation with the world.
(Writers note: I wrote the above a few days beforehand so I would have this piece ready. Now it’s the actual day I’ve been spoiled rotten by my family and received a slew of well wishes from people so it is actually making my day pretty damn cool. However it would ruin the theme of the piece so lets just pretend I’m still not feeling special eh?)
So what the hell happened? How did this happen to me? I mean, I remember being young and looking at people like me, thinking why and how could they give up?! And young Trev is still inside, looking out through these tired old eyes, feeling like a young man trapped in an old farts body. I used to party all night and play video games all day. I used to sleep with stranger’s, drink and smoke near anything passed my way, get into fights with buddies and then wake up the next day feeling a million bucks to do it all over again. Now I go to bed sober at a decent hour and I still wake up tired. What. Happened. To. Me?
In fact, let’s have a look at the progression of my life in some key categories.
Drinking
Teens: Any alcohol our fake ID’s could get us
Twenties: Scotch & Cokes at the pub
Thirties: Beers with mates
…and now: Cup’o’Soup before bed
Music
Teens: Whatever was on MTV
Twenties: Whatever was on Rage
Thirties: Whatever was on Triple J
…and now: ‘Hey Diddle Diddle, the cat and the fiddle’
Parties
Teens: Getting pissed at 18th’s
Twenties: Getting munted at 21st’s
Thirties: Dinner parties with friends
…and now: Driving my kids to other children’s birthdays
Work
Teens: Below minimum wage at a fruit shop
Twenties: Minimum wage Security Guard
Thirties: Decently paid Departmental Employee
…and now: I clean my wife’s house
Travel
Teens: Interstate trips to theme parks
Twenties: Backpacked around Europe
Thirties: Honeymoon to Vanuatu
…and now: To the shops and back
Video Games
Teens: Street Fighter II on the Super Nintendo
Twenties: Halo on the Xbox
Thirties: Fall of Cybertron on the PS3
…and now: Hoping for a nap while my son plays the PS4
Women
Teens: I made my girlfriends laugh
Twenties: I made the ladies swoon
Thirties: I made my wife smile
…and now: I make my daughters bed
It first really sunk in I was getting older about 3 years ago. Back in my twenties, when I had a gleam in my eye, an ever-present bulge in my trousers and a six-pack under my shirt, I used to get my hair elaborately done at the hairdressers at least every six weeks. I used to really enjoy it too; I always had two or three of the young women on staff hanging about while I made them laugh and unashamedly flirted. Used to walk out looking great, feeling great and more often than not having charmed my way into getting a nice big discount.
Three years ago I was getting my tips done blond when the hairdresser said ‘Oh it’s so great when men your age get this done – my step-father gets his done and it really helps hide the grey’.
The look of horror on my face said it all as I had been unaware that I had any grey hairs! Also, this girl was comparing me to her father figure?! Yep – if I had dusted off my old flirt-circuits she would have no doubt classified me as an old creep and locked the door as I left – no discounts for old fart Trev.
So are there any upsides to getting this old? The main three I can think of are that you are less of a dickhead, less inclined to tolerate bullshit and are more self-reliant. These days I actually think before I open my mouth to say whatever random thought passes through this oddly-wired brain of mine, and getting naked in public is truly a thing of the past. I won’t cop shit or tolerate bullshit – I quit a job because of something that happened to me and I knew that if I continued to work there my self-respect wouldn’t allow me to look in the mirror anymore – that was a very depressing time for me. As for self-reliance, it may have taken me decades longer than some males but now I only call a tradie as a last resort. I always try to build it or fix it myself and if I can’t then I watch how the tradie does it so I can do it myself from that point on.
So today for the first time I look in the mirror and a forty year old man looks back at me. It’s been a helluva ride. I’ve traveled the world and learned how to order a beer in a dozen languages. I’ve had a Uni Radio Show, appeared on Television, Sworn on the Big Screen and done Stand-Up Comedy at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. I’ve been painfully thin then fat then buff then… kinda flowing. I’ve lived in Melbourne and London and even returned to the Mallee for a while. I’ve lost my parents but had children of my own. I’ve become the sum of my experiences…. which somehow has turned me into a Blog Writing, Hobby Farming, Househusband and Father who spends his days looking after his kids and propagating plants. Doesn’t sound much but really when you think about it, having a loving wife, beautiful son & daughter, a big house in the hills (even if it’s not mine) and only working for others when I feel like it – I may have not become the megastar I thought I would but I could have done a lot worse that’s for sure.
So what pearls of wisdom have I learned that can prepare others for turning the big Four Oh? Well… none. Nada, Zip, Zippo. It’s going to affect each one of you differently. I can’t say it feels any different to being 39 and to be honest in my head I’m still 25. All I can say is that yes, the concept of turning forty sucks…
…but it’s better than the alternative 😉
Are you about to turn forty or already have? Would love to commiserate with you in the comments section below!
Retraction: I have been contacted and instructed to remove certain opinions from this blog. Due to my leaving the comments in question so vague (no names, places, dates, any specifics at all) it has lead to someone mistakenly believing the comments referred to them. Therefore to avoid continued accidental offense the instructions received have been followed; the opinions are officially and publicly retracted and have been permanently removed from this site. bigangrytrev.com apologizes for any misunderstanding regarding this matter.
You know, it’s not all gravy being Big Angry Trev. I know what perceptions that a lot of the public hold of me; that I eat imported lobsters off plates of gold, served up by nubile & busty fangirls who pay for the privilege of catering to the every whim of their idol.
But no, sometimes it’s damn hard work. Especially when your online fandom want a real life public appearance. On this site, of course I am known to you all as Big Angry Trev, purveyor of whimsy and wisdom. Then to the Transformers community I am known as Big Transformer Trev, collector extraordinaire and Ozformer of the Year. It’s an honor to be venerated by ones peers on the world wide web but sometimes you have to give a little something back. You need to show up, shake a few babies, kiss a few hands and generally let people feel the warm glow of bathing in the light of your reflected glory.
To this end, I made a public appearance at the Collectormania Toy & Hobby Fair in Penrith.
It’s a bugger of a drive, I can tell ya that! Espeically on a rainy Sunday morning. The Blue Mountains seem to consist of constantly changing speed limits enforced by a plethora of speed cameras and cop cars just waiting for you to miss a single sign. Combine that with half the time you are driving on the edge of a precipice and it does not make for a relaxing country jaunt.
When I finally reached my destination I was greeted at the door by Shannon, one of the main pillars of my Ozformer of the Year campaign and a stalwart supporter. Like many celebrities I have let many of my basic social and survival skills whither so Shannon was to be my guide to the toy fair as well as a buffer between me and the general public.
Not long after entering I was quickly accosted by one of my long time fans Adam. Adam has been a bit of a Fanboy of mine for 20 years, even back at the start when I was doing movies and television for a living. Adam had his usual reaction to seeing me – a girlish squeal of delight and the development of a mild erection. Given the regularity I illicit these reactions from my fans I was able to still smile and give him a hug, albeit from the side rather than the front.
Shannon then gave me the tour of the Fair. This was my first toyfair and I found that they are significantly different to pop culture expos. No cosplay for a start. No huge displays either. And there were very few women to be seen. I think I saw less than a dozen the whole morning and those that I did see might as well have had ‘wife’ or ‘daughter’ stamped on their foreheads.
It was very hot in there too. I had to lose my trademark black jacket after 20 minutes, lest I start to perspire and smell like a lot of my fellow fair attendees. There was a definite essence in the air that suggested many of these guys were leaving their parents basements for the first time in a long while and bathing beforehand had no occurred to them.
It seemed like most of the stalls at the Fair stocked one of two things – either Pop! figures or Matchbox cars. Neither are really my cup of tea but I was able to find at least one I liked.
And of course, courtesy of my trusty guide Shannon, I was able to locate Transformers. I’ve never been a 3rd Party collector, considering how many official toys there are to collect, but I will say that a 3P Bruticus I came across was a thing of beauty to behold and it took a force of will to walk away.
However I was rewarded with some G2 goodness! G2 Optimus AND G2 Megatron! Shannon was even able to haggle me a better deal on the Optimus. Given how much one pays online for toys like these, I was starting to see the Toy Fair’s appeal.
As Shannon showed me around I got to meet many of my fans from both the blogging world and the Transformers community. I got to meet Cranky – who was surprisingly cheerful – and Carlo and Dallas who couldn’t wipe the smiles from their dials. Also Hursty who has a Soundwave collection that surpasses even my own! Then came Brendan, the self-styled ‘Angel of Death’ who used his dark powers to lure me out to the carpark where… ehem… some shady deals were made (yes I lost LG43 Trypticon but I came home with some G1 goodies to replace him).
Soon it was time for refreshment. Meat and beer were highly sought after so I took a cadre of my more presentable fans and we ‘did lunch’. When Dallas turned up with some dark beer it earned him a place of honor next to yours truly, much to the admiration and jealousy of his peers.
And that was it. Quite the experience. Again, this kind of thing is expected of one from time to time, but I will say that the lads I got to spend time with and the rare toys I walked away with made the trip well worth while. I hope next time I have to do Big Angry Trev – Blogger, or Big Transformer Trev – Ozformer of the Year appearances I get to meet such great guys again.
Related Articles
