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But is it really a secret?

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Mark's been pestering me about the upcoming anniversary of the day the McGann family were blessed by his presence in the world.  In other words, the git's been sending me text messages asking me what I'm going to get him as a birthday pressie.  Course I haven't got him anything yet, 'cos I'm not organised that way, so I thought I'd come on here and see what you, my friends, would suggest. 

So, what should I present dear darling Mark with on his birthday?

(Mind you, it's not one of those fantasy "money no object" sorts of things... I'm not as rich as you would like to believe I am, so let's keep it within realistic limits, eh?)

Sock it to me, babies.


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I've been thinking (oui, quel surprise, n'cest pas?) and I'm wondering something.  Do any of you (excluding those whom I've told -- play fair, now) know who my "typist" is?   Have you guessed?  Now, I won't say that I'll confirm or deny any guesses, but the thought did cross my mind if any of you had any inklings as to my friend's super secret identity.  Go ahead, tell me.  I'd like to know.  Not that I'm going to out my typist to the world at large, mind you, or at least to my LJ friends. Perhaps.

Beyond that, in the exercise of fun, I've done one of those LJ interest searches to see who has listed yours truly as an "interest" (oh, I'm quite flattered), and I've friended a few of you.  So, if you're wondering who this strange bloke is who has friended you all of a sudden, c'est moi.  

What's with the French today?  It's not even correct French.  It's just me "acting" again.  It happens.  I'm an actor.  Someone tell me why I do that.  Anozzehr eempondehrrable tu pohndehr, non?  Shit, even my French accent is dodgy.  Tear up my Equity card, why don't you?  I deserve it. 

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Slow day.  Feeling dozy.  Need something to do.  So, give me something to do.  Something to read, something to play.  Have any of you or your friends written anything fun about me lately?  Drawn any pretty pictures of me?  Played any daft games?  I need stimulation.  No, no that kind of stimulation, you pervy birds, you.  Something, or my brain will shrivel.  Quick!

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I do believe it is.

Happy birthday to my dear little bro, mmgsdiary!!!

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She had this thing on her journal where you type "YOURNAME needs" in Google, and I was bored, believe it or not, so I thought I'd give it a whirl.  

So, here are the ten things, according to Google that I need:

1.  Paul McGann needs to stop being so hot.  (Why, thank you.  Do I really?  It's a curse, I tell you.)

2.  Paul McGann needs to stop shouting. (I DO NOT SHOUT!!  WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT?)

3.  I hear Paul McGann needs work.  (--oi!--)

4.  Paul McGann needs some more screen time.  (True, I've been telling my agent that for years)

(these were the only ones that came up with "Paul McGann" so I decided to just go with "Paul" for the rest)

5.  Paul needs to lose himself to mourning and anger.  (Thanks, but no thanks.  Had enough of that in my life)

6.  Paul needs specs. (My secret is out!!!!)

7.  Paul needs some more education.  (Damn, I knew I should have gotten that one more A-level.)

8.  Paul needs a history lesson.  (And  that last A-level?  It was in history, don't you know.)

9.  Paul needs more twitter friends.  (eh?  If I knew what a twitter friend was I'd get some more.)

10.  Paul needs help us get clear on our rights, quickly.  (Um.  You wouldn't want that kind of advise from me.  Trust me.)

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Hello, friends.  I'm just popping up again to say hello.  I just now had a wonderfully long chat with quietcontrary whom I adore, and she asked why I hadn't posted here in quite some time, and looking back on things she's right.  It has been a while.  Time flies and life is busy; which is a good thing.  In my line of work, as I told Sidhe, the busier the better.  I also didn't post about the recent con that some of you attended... including petitmayfaircat, so that was bad of me as well.  Michelle (my godsend...) kept poking me to say something afterwards and I didn't.  But moving on...

I was trying to think of a way to get all of you involved but nothing creative sparked within me... which is nothing new, really.  So, here's what I suggest and here's want you to do.  Tell me in two sentences:  the best thing in your life right now, and the worst.  If there is nothing bad, just say so, but I would love to at least know what's making all of my friends happy these days.  

In case any of you were wondering, as well... the bleepy device on my keyfob and phone works wonders.  I haven't lost my mobile for more than ten minutes thanks to that, however, I became the brunt of many a practical joke on mmgsdiary's part when he found my spare remote bleeper thingy.  I lurves me brudder, I do.

Finally, I leave you with this news.  I don't know whether to laugh or to cry.  Or both.   News headline here -- the end of an --cough-- era.

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I bought a new mobile this morning, fantastic thing, full of all the bells and whistles.  Bluetooth earpiece, which I still need to get accustomed to, keypad, fantastic ringtones (I immediately begged Jake to set it up, and he downloaded "Changes" by David Bowie for me).  As I was waiting for the clerk to activate it, I snooped around the store and found this widget that you can attach to the back of the phone, a wee thing, really, but the best part of it, is there is also another widget that you attach to your keyfob.  You can see where this is going, I suppose.  If I ever lose my mobile (again), all I need do is press the button on the keyfob widget and the phone twitters so I can simply have a listen and find it.

Me troubles, they be over.

Unless, of course, I lose my keyfob.  Then, I'm thoroughly buggered.

--edit--  I've added a few of you as friends.  If I have and you've come here ~~  Hello.  Hello, there, lovies.  Expanding my horizons, and all that.  Cheers.  Don't ask how I found you, because I honestly haven't a clue.  I was just doing that browsing through userinfo stuff and picking random journals and having a look and found some interesting people through this and that.   Eight_love and other places.  Well, yes.  Regardless.  Drop me a comment to say hello, back.  Don't be shy, now.  I don't bite.  Much.

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Paul's in ur internetz spammin ur friendslists.  Or something like that.  Joe has this t-shirt that says something like that and of course, me being the "cool" dad that I am, I don't ask him... I ask others what it means and now I know.  

Anyroad, since we're resurrecting old threads here I thought I would start this one again.  It's the communal story.  Since many of my friends -- well, some perhaps -- but that's beside the point, have just finished and/or submitted submissions to submit to the submitory thing of the Big Finish submitting committee for short stories and submissions.... -slap-

Since some of you were creative enough to turn over some short stories to Big Finish, I'm sure there is much in the way of creative juice left over for this.  

I will start by providing the first sentence of the story, and then, in comments, you continue it.  Make sure you read all the comments before you post so you can see where the story is at.  Or the place where the story is or whatever is good grammar, I don't know, I'm just a daft actor.  The rules are quite simple, indeed, so let us proceed. 

Mark McGann's Dream

Late one night, Mark McGann lay in bed, tossing and turning.  He was asleep, but his mind was racing with images of ........

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That's me.  Paul the slave to the power of suggestion.

1. Grab the nearest book
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.

"I'm here, your Lordship, I'm here, ever present and correct, sir."  A bowlegged cavalry trooper who appeared old enough to be Lord William's father appeared from the alley beside the headquarters.  "Your Lordship's forgotten your Lordship's saber."

--Sharpe's Fury, Bernard Cornwell.

Just the mere knowing that this was the nearest book to me tells me one thing.  That I desperately need to clean off and organise my desk, because it has been quite some time since I worked on that one.  

I'll just tag those who wish to repeat this bit of enjoyable nonsense in their own journals. 
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In time for Valentines' Day coming up in about a fortnight, petitmayfaircat so nicely reminded me, otherwise I would have forgotten like a McGann tends to forget to put his trousers on zip front in the morning.  (You still corpse at that joke, don't you, Cat?)  Well, here it is again. 

The Paul McGann Love Slam.

The rules are simple.  Very simple.   I will begin the slam by saying something very nice about one of the people on my friends list, or someone I know.  That person, in turn, will say something nice about someone (and of course, direct them back here to keep the luv a'flowin' as they say... somewhere, Canada perhaps).  Then, that someone, will say something endearing about another, and so on and so on and so on and so on.

Let's try not to repeat, shall we, so no need to go back and say anything nice about me.  Unless, of course, you would like to. 

I would be quite happy if we got this to the point where all the comments rather annoyingly collapse so you can't read everything correctly without clicking like a madperson. 

So, since petitmayfaircat requested it.... I'll start by saying something nice about her.    Cat is lovely, generous with affection and loves others with a deep friendliness that can't be duplicated anywhere in anyone.  She's like chocolate tea with butter biscuits and a generous side plate of treacle tart. 

OK Cat.   Your turn. 
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