This Is Not A Blomance

Here I go, promoting another Tinman post.

You and the Hub* and Mrs Tin and even Tinman himself have nothing to fear: this is not a blomance on my part.

I am in love with Tinman’s words, not his scrap metal; his humour, not his funnel.  I believe he is the most underrated blogger in the sphere and ought to be read by everyone, everywhere, who loves a good laugh.

However, I am not re-blogging this particular post whereof I speak, for three reasons:

1. He doesn’t use illustrations and I like my posts to have illustrations (see, I can be critical.  Just ask the Hub)
2. I’m this close to being a stalker.
3. It’s all about me!  

Tinman wrote a story about Aquatom which I loved so much, I demanded my own story.  Fearing I might visit my ancestral home (in Ireland, where he lives, not far from a smelly river) and not knowing if the Hub has any control over me (in this house, where he lives, next to a smelly bottom), Tinman obliged.

A wise decision.  

(Don’t you love how threatening italics can be?)

Click on this link to read all about my adventures with Captain Picard, the one man for whom I might leave the Hub* – despite the fact that he’s fictional – for exciting nights of reading Shakespeare, gazing sternly at the people around us and saying together, Tea.  Earl Grey.  Hot.

Here’s a sample of Tinman’s story to tempt you:

“Approaching the planet now,” said Data.

“On screen,” said the Captain.

“I see it, sir,” said Ensign Tilly Bud from behind him. “It’s a barren desert planet.”

“We haven’t turned the screen on yet,” said Picard. “You’re looking at the back of my head.”

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*I would never leave a man who buys me nine boxes of Maltesers for Christmas as my main present, and socks, digital camera and laptop as stocking fillers.  

He totally gets me.