Well, he didn't really (that fooled you, eh? Oh yes, hook, line and sinker). I was just a tad gutted. See, about a week ago Tom made his 'final, final public appearance' at the Stamp Centre on London's Strand. I've never met the great man, despite him being a childhood and ongoing hero of mine. So I thought I'd finally make the effort and head on down there.

Tom's DVD-signing spot began at 11am and ended at 3pm. For some bizarre reason, I was rather blase about it all and arrived at 1pm. I mean, I didn't expect the man to be sitting there twiddling his thumbs, but neither did I anticipate the queue which snaked along the Strand, then round a corner. To make matters worse, mere minutes after I arrived with my friend Ray Zell (there for immoral support), one of the Stamp Centre guys came along the queue, warning us that it was unlikely we'd get to meet Tom. See, while the big fella normally stays later than billed, on this day of all days he really HAD to leave at 3pm, in order to get his train/plane/automobile back to France.

While the horror began to dawn, I decided to be stubborn and wait. So we stood there for another hour-and-a-half, like proper fans and everything. Then it got to 2.50pm and we'd moved roughly six feet. I can only assume that people were either abusing their time with Mr Baker and asking things like, 'What did you make of the cliffhanger to episode five of The Armageddon Factor?', or Tom was abusing his time with them, rambling on being adored and gravestones. Either way, we gave up and went down the pub. Bizarrely, despite us staying out 'til closing time, visiting five different drinking establishments AND consuming red wine, beer and Jack Daniels, I felt relatively fine the next day. That's the magic of Doctor Who for you... even when it lets you down.

In a way, I don't mind the disappointment. See, in my head, Tom Baker doesn't really exist in this dimension. To see him in the flesh might be downright strange. Perhaps the universe might implode. Still, one of the Stamp Centre guys did say that he'll probably do a 'final, final, final public appearance'. Next time, I'm camping out from 6am onwards.

Does anyone else find it bizarre that the Post Office are attempting to sell us everything apart from stamps and stuff? I was in the Camden branch today, in a huge queue (Tom Baker flashbacks ensued). On the way through this queue I saw films on DVD, CDs, toys, games, PC CD-ROMS, stationery (fair enough, admittedly) and loads more non-post-centric items. It's almost as if the Post Office has decided that there isn't enough money in post-centric behaviour and branched out in completely arbitrary directions. Still, you'd wonder how much Camden is making, flogging terrible-looking DVD movies for 49p, that even I - the guardian of rubbish action/horror flicks - couldn't bring myself to hand over a palm-full of change for...

This evening, I used a website called Scriptblaster.com to send details of my horror screenplay to around 200 Hollywood agents and managers. Who knows what will happen, hmmmm? Seems like a good service in principle: depends on the results. Of course, Scriptblaster.com can't ensure that Hollywood agents and managers will like your logline and synopsis enough to request a read through the full screenplay...