Manys the freezing morning dirty faced school children would run down to consume their soggy, cardboard like breakfast, huddled round the Superser, as one, then the other parent would struggle to get the open faced toaster on wheels lit.

It used a simple flint ‘clicker’ system to ignite the firey face. ‘Click-click-hold, click-click’, went the button somehow spelling out “I’m gassing my children” in morse code. The parents shouted instructions to each other through chattering teeth, “No, it’s click-hold-click! You idiot”, they’d shout.

Eventually the Superser would catch and, degree by degree, the family would warm up to a point that could almost be called ‘cozy’. At this exact moment though the Superser must be turned off as its coincides with when the family must leave for the school run, scamper from the house and pile into the car.

Unfortunately the same factory that made the Superser clicker was also the one that manufactured the ‘Choke’ device often found in mid to low prices family cars of the time. Again the parents grow frustrated with each other, as the magic combination of timings and sequences must be found. “Pull it out, now pump the accelerator three times and turn the ignition” “No it’s: pump, pull, turn, push back in”. “Ah fuck, now it’s flooded”.

Once ‘Flooded’ the entire family would have to get out into freezing conditions and push start the car until all the warmth the Superser had managed to instil was gone.

Superser hated my family.

Years later, while working part time, I saw one laying on it’s back being used as an over sized sandwich grill by the other workers on their lunch break. I watched as the molten cheese and tomato dripped down from their sambo’s onto the element, ruining it forever. I hastily grabbed my own sambo from the fridge and tossed it on the improvised grill. Cheese, butter and ham ‘juice’ poured delightfully from my sandwich as the heater sizzled and spat in it’s death throws. “Not so ‘Super’ now my old foe, not so super now.”

A few months ago I went to see Toy Story 3. For me it was the best movie of 2010, even better than Inception. It was just a perfect piece of film making: a superb story, told superbly. I’m not afraid to admit it there may have been some welling happening behind those 3D glasses. I like to say that I was moved…as opposed to touched, which sounds a bit pervey.

“So you had a great time Paul, good for you, what’s that? You have something to moan about? Oh, for fuck sake here we go…”

So here’s is my problem; going to see a great movie is one of those rare occasions where you are able to experience something wonderful as part of a group, meaning, in this instance, your fellow Woody and Buzz fans. This sometimes also happens from time to time seeing a band or maybe a stand up gig; everyone having the same feeling at once.

It’s something rare for people in todays society. Gone are the days when 1 million people would show up to hear what the Pope had to say, or thousands attend huge political rallies or sit-ins or whatever.

I found though, that night, wearing the 3D glasses gave me a certain disconnect with those around me who, whether they liked it or not, I wanted to share this story with, on a sort of, you know communal level. Instead, I was having my own private experience as the thick framed, dark glasses created an enclosed personal barrier between me and those around me.

I think it’s healthy for people to have a gestalt experience every now and then, it makes us less ego centric. And it’s sad to see that one of the remaining arena’s which gives people this opportunity is now offering a more isolated experience.

At the Funfair my favorite machine to play is the claw, I love to pay money to watch soft toys being felt up. Never grabbed! that’s not my style, just a light brushing … electric with desire, like in a romance novel set in the 18th century.

“Why, Mr. Paul, I do believe that was your pneumatic finger caressing my well stuffed posterior”

“Oh, my dear, if I were but a richer man, then I may one day sweep you from this place and make you my own, but I am of modest means and our gentle embrace is all we will ever have, farewell my love, may we someday meet at the same side of the glass”

So I’m not allowed to bring my dog in? That’s fine. I’ll tie him up outside.

But guide dogs are cool? Ok, fair enough.

But hang on, how are the blind people to know it’s fine, they can’t see the sign.

And I’m sure the guide dogs can’t read.

I guess the blind people probably just stroll in with their dog because they can’t see the sign in the first place and therefore don’t know that no dogs are allowed but that their dog is.

So, if the only people who can read that guide dogs are allowed are the people who don’t have any, and the people who have them cant read it…why does it say it?