i still read blogs. i just don't write them. the price was too high.
take care
Friday, February 01, 2008
Monday, September 17, 2007
I've been really quiet, the past few days. Very, very busy.
And now, its going to be a lot quieter for a while. For the week. The girl is away this week. A whole week without me. That means I'm going to have some time to myself. At last.
I'd love to write more about it, but one thing I do hate is the way that this blog is used against me sometimes. Its perhaps the peril of putting things out in the public like this. Both the girl and RM (the mother of my two children) have said how they keep things from me, are always concerned about how things wil appear on the blog.
That means that I hate the fact that what was supposed to be an outlet, a release, a means of mouthing off harmlessly - is now a millstone. Its started to impinge on my personal life.
I hate the hold this has over me, and the way it is used against me.
Recently, I've had this blog used against me. The address banded around, it caused a huge huge row between me and the girl, because someone got in their head to pass around what is a personal diary, a mouthing off place, and give it to someone who is involved with me - and it causes rows. It causes issues.
What is happening now is quite simple. I can't have this used against me, and let it wreak havoc on my personal life. Its not worth it.
To use someone's personal thoughts against them, to hang it over them like a hammer waiting to fall, to use it as a bargaining chip....I can't sanction that. I can't believe that. Nor can I approve of it. To do so is a deceitful, dishonourable and despicable act.
What this means is that I am closing this blog. I refuse to let my thoughts be censored out of fear, out of fear that they may be used against me.
I've had enough. To those of you who use this against, who treat it like a big stick to be used against me - You haven't won. You never will win. I simply refuse to play your childish and petty games anymore.
Sometimes, the most mature thing is to who when to walk away. That is what I am doing. I refuse to let others hold that power over me. They only have the power over me that I give them - and I am no longer giving them anything to use against. I am taking it back. No longer am I tipping my hand to them. As long as I continue to play that game, I am at their mercy. Not anymore. its not a game. its real life. With real consequences.
I've had to salvage my relationship with the girl more than once because of the trouble caused by other people loose lips and vengeful words, all caused by the simple fact I have a blog. Well done, and congratulations to those responsible. Do you feel pride, at splitting up two people for no good cause except spite or revenge? You shouldn't. you should feel shame. Intense shame. Well Done, Ellen. Go Pat yourself on the back for interfering. It wouldn't be the first time either, that you've caused tremendous difficulty by saying poison words. (By the way, any comments about this in her defence will not be approved - we all have a right to privacy, and that was blatantly violated by her interference which is utterly indefensible).
I miss those of you who are my friends. I will miss you immensely. You know exactly who you are, and it wouldn't do to name you all; you have a right to privacy much as I do, except you still have yours. To those of you who are my friends, You know I am only at the end of an email or the telephone. The rest of you, who would wish me illwill and use whatever words are here to your won twisted, and bitter end.... there is a special circle of hell reserved for you, the betrayers - and it will never be hot enough. Go and Burn. You deserve nothing less for your betrayal of trust, for your mocking of other people's emotions and feelings being treated just like playthings.
A strange Game. The only winning move is not to play.
Saturday. At last, Saturday. A day of my own, for a change. At last. The past week I've been feeling very swamped, like someone is living over me. Saturday's for me. And Saturday...what did I do? I went out, went to the library, did the charity shop dash, went to town, came home, had a bath, shaved my head, and went to town.
The bus didn't turn up. It just didn't. I waited half an hour before It turned up. I left the house at 8.17, just as it should have been five minutes away, and it didn't turn up until 8:43. I ended walking to where the routes meet, it didn't pass me, and eventually it turned up. It took me an hour to do what is timetabled at twenty right minute journey, courtesy of the arts fest and the bus diversions. I eventually got there, had a sandwich and a can of Relentless (93p, Tescos), and walked down to the pub. Now, rather than going to the pub with the can in my hand, I took a walk down past the grand re-opening of the Que Club, at the Salvation Army hall. Past the fire eaters, and the girls with the big furry boots and the flourescent hair. Its at this point I realise there must be an international glowstick shortage, because the flim flam street sellers are trying to flog knock off lightsabers. Blue lightsabers. Not the usual green glowsticks, but unwanted Star Wars merchandise. See? Thats the effect the Que club closing had. A Global, international shortage of glow sticks. And funnily enough, hundreds of poverty wage workers in the middle east being laid off....
Went to the pub, and then to the Academy. The Academy was good, but I left about half one to get to the bus early. Had an Ok time, but my Dancing like John Travolta in an ironic, pisstaky style didn't quite work. As neither did the manic air drums I was playing to prodigy, which again led to fits of hysterical laughter from girls taking the piss. Fact is, I wasn't drinking. I just got sick of it by the end of it all. Sick of realising that , when sober, its just not the same. You love the music still, but you realise just quite how silly it is. This is what i get for not drinking when I'm out. £2 in, £2 on the cloakroom, £4.50 on drinks, £3.50 on a burger afterwards....all in all, the night was quite cheap overall. But I left eary. I just felt... silly, out of place. Surrounded by a lot of younger, better versions of me who could dance without looking like an idiot, who actually knew a lot of the music (I knew probably about 50% of it), who had their friends there (mine had left early), and who could dance for more than three songs in a row before overheating and having to pour a pint of water over their heads, like I did at least one point last night. I love the music, I want to rock, but I want to do so without my fingers cramping up after three songs pathetically. Its the thing about growing old. You think you're stil linvincible and you think you're still 18, but the reality is, you are, and its catching up on you. A lack of exercise, and so much more.
Anyway, moan whinge moan. Its the usual routine of growing up and growing old, and just not being able to do it anymore. Youth passing all of us by. I remember even ten years ago being able to do so much more, dance all night like it didn't matter, but now I'm getting old. We'll never get these days again. Smell the flowers, while you can, people.
Anyway, I left the club early (ok, half one) and depressed, concerned about getting home. The night bus services were interrupted because of the arts fest, so I left early to get home early, and walked all the way up to the stop for the Night Bus.
I waited. I saw the bus. I saw it drive right past me. Despite me blatantly putting my arm out for him to stop. And when he showed no sign of slowing down I got into the road and waved my arms around, and he just drove straight past me like I wasn't there. At a designated bus stop. With not a bus for another hour.
I was furious, to say the least. Now, what options do I have? All I have is to wait an hour or what? No, I walk. Walk is what I did. Walk, and barely suppress my anger. I walked for an hour home. I then found a bus stop, and waited for him. Again, I put my hand out. Again, he drove straight past me.
This time, i got his number.
Now, I don't know about you, but I know one thing. When a bus driver goes past a designated stop, and he has spare seats on the bus, that is a sackable offence. We depend on them, and what he did had no defence at all. What he did did nothing but make my life a misery, with no cause or reason. He wronged me, for no cause at all, and stranded me. Not once, but twice. All I wanted to do was go home, thats all I wanted to do. And he could have made that possible, all he had to do was just do his job. But for an act of petty esquivalence and negligence, for no good reason, he chose not to. He chose not to do his job, and quite simply, he has no idea what the real consequences of what he did has. I have. I had to live with them.
And For that, he will not be let off scott free. He committed an act of gross misconduct, and for that there are consequences. It sounds bitter and petty, but it is cause and effect. Someone who is such a position and abuses that power wilfully and does so out of spite is not worthy to hold that position. Do not screw the little guy, its as simple as that.
Anyway, I got home and went to bed.And then I awoke, and watched a couple of movies while pottering around - The Sentinel (which is OK), and Saw. Saw belongs to that specific genre called "Gorno" . It is just sheer torture porn - very effective, but is at heart just a nasty horrible little horror movie, where two people are trapped in room being played off against each other with threats, coercion, and much much more. Its well done, but quite unpleasant; but like a lot of low budget shock movies, It has very little in the way of redeeming features except jump edits and wierd film stocks.
Now, I have to write a letter of complaint. About a bus driver.
The bus didn't turn up. It just didn't. I waited half an hour before It turned up. I left the house at 8.17, just as it should have been five minutes away, and it didn't turn up until 8:43. I ended walking to where the routes meet, it didn't pass me, and eventually it turned up. It took me an hour to do what is timetabled at twenty right minute journey, courtesy of the arts fest and the bus diversions. I eventually got there, had a sandwich and a can of Relentless (93p, Tescos), and walked down to the pub. Now, rather than going to the pub with the can in my hand, I took a walk down past the grand re-opening of the Que Club, at the Salvation Army hall. Past the fire eaters, and the girls with the big furry boots and the flourescent hair. Its at this point I realise there must be an international glowstick shortage, because the flim flam street sellers are trying to flog knock off lightsabers. Blue lightsabers. Not the usual green glowsticks, but unwanted Star Wars merchandise. See? Thats the effect the Que club closing had. A Global, international shortage of glow sticks. And funnily enough, hundreds of poverty wage workers in the middle east being laid off....
Went to the pub, and then to the Academy. The Academy was good, but I left about half one to get to the bus early. Had an Ok time, but my Dancing like John Travolta in an ironic, pisstaky style didn't quite work. As neither did the manic air drums I was playing to prodigy, which again led to fits of hysterical laughter from girls taking the piss. Fact is, I wasn't drinking. I just got sick of it by the end of it all. Sick of realising that , when sober, its just not the same. You love the music still, but you realise just quite how silly it is. This is what i get for not drinking when I'm out. £2 in, £2 on the cloakroom, £4.50 on drinks, £3.50 on a burger afterwards....all in all, the night was quite cheap overall. But I left eary. I just felt... silly, out of place. Surrounded by a lot of younger, better versions of me who could dance without looking like an idiot, who actually knew a lot of the music (I knew probably about 50% of it), who had their friends there (mine had left early), and who could dance for more than three songs in a row before overheating and having to pour a pint of water over their heads, like I did at least one point last night. I love the music, I want to rock, but I want to do so without my fingers cramping up after three songs pathetically. Its the thing about growing old. You think you're stil linvincible and you think you're still 18, but the reality is, you are, and its catching up on you. A lack of exercise, and so much more.
Anyway, moan whinge moan. Its the usual routine of growing up and growing old, and just not being able to do it anymore. Youth passing all of us by. I remember even ten years ago being able to do so much more, dance all night like it didn't matter, but now I'm getting old. We'll never get these days again. Smell the flowers, while you can, people.
Anyway, I left the club early (ok, half one) and depressed, concerned about getting home. The night bus services were interrupted because of the arts fest, so I left early to get home early, and walked all the way up to the stop for the Night Bus.
I waited. I saw the bus. I saw it drive right past me. Despite me blatantly putting my arm out for him to stop. And when he showed no sign of slowing down I got into the road and waved my arms around, and he just drove straight past me like I wasn't there. At a designated bus stop. With not a bus for another hour.
I was furious, to say the least. Now, what options do I have? All I have is to wait an hour or what? No, I walk. Walk is what I did. Walk, and barely suppress my anger. I walked for an hour home. I then found a bus stop, and waited for him. Again, I put my hand out. Again, he drove straight past me.
This time, i got his number.
Now, I don't know about you, but I know one thing. When a bus driver goes past a designated stop, and he has spare seats on the bus, that is a sackable offence. We depend on them, and what he did had no defence at all. What he did did nothing but make my life a misery, with no cause or reason. He wronged me, for no cause at all, and stranded me. Not once, but twice. All I wanted to do was go home, thats all I wanted to do. And he could have made that possible, all he had to do was just do his job. But for an act of petty esquivalence and negligence, for no good reason, he chose not to. He chose not to do his job, and quite simply, he has no idea what the real consequences of what he did has. I have. I had to live with them.
And For that, he will not be let off scott free. He committed an act of gross misconduct, and for that there are consequences. It sounds bitter and petty, but it is cause and effect. Someone who is such a position and abuses that power wilfully and does so out of spite is not worthy to hold that position. Do not screw the little guy, its as simple as that.
Anyway, I got home and went to bed.And then I awoke, and watched a couple of movies while pottering around - The Sentinel (which is OK), and Saw. Saw belongs to that specific genre called "Gorno" . It is just sheer torture porn - very effective, but is at heart just a nasty horrible little horror movie, where two people are trapped in room being played off against each other with threats, coercion, and much much more. Its well done, but quite unpleasant; but like a lot of low budget shock movies, It has very little in the way of redeeming features except jump edits and wierd film stocks.
Now, I have to write a letter of complaint. About a bus driver.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Oh Well, past couple of days have been sort of… busy.
Tuesday, saw the girl, was unbelievably tired. You know that tired where you lapse in and out of coherency and start hazing (as I call it)? That you desperately need sleep but need to do things instead? Was that tired. This caused problems. Then a friend of mine rang at about one in the morning, woke me up, and I refused the call and switched the phone off, after texting them to tell them I was in bed. I have no control over who calls me at what time, so we had a row. Being tired and rowing, is never good.
Weds, saw Giles, saw a movie (Breach. Its good and worthy but quite slow – it’s a methodical, procedural movie more than anything. But Laura Linney is HOT).
Thursday, work, saw the girl again. Went to Morrisons. Slept. Needed to sleep. Was so tired. Bought some food for today.
Friday, work - so far. I'm being quite dull, you know...
Tuesday, saw the girl, was unbelievably tired. You know that tired where you lapse in and out of coherency and start hazing (as I call it)? That you desperately need sleep but need to do things instead? Was that tired. This caused problems. Then a friend of mine rang at about one in the morning, woke me up, and I refused the call and switched the phone off, after texting them to tell them I was in bed. I have no control over who calls me at what time, so we had a row. Being tired and rowing, is never good.
Weds, saw Giles, saw a movie (Breach. Its good and worthy but quite slow – it’s a methodical, procedural movie more than anything. But Laura Linney is HOT).
Thursday, work, saw the girl again. Went to Morrisons. Slept. Needed to sleep. Was so tired. Bought some food for today.
Friday, work - so far. I'm being quite dull, you know...
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Thursday. never could get the hang of Thursdays....
but you really need to visit here . A fantastic selection of soundboard bootleg recordings as mp3s from lots of bands, such as the police, U2, REM, Prince, AC/DC and much much more. Fantastic stuff.
if bored, why not play battelship with Eddie Izzard ?
(caution:may not be the real eddie izzard, though)
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
I was a teenage Metalhead....
•PUNK:•
•[ ] You can skateboard.
•[ ] You like plaid.
•[ ] You have Converse.
•[X] You hate mtv.
•[ ] You have/had/wanted blue, pink, red, purple, or green hair.
•[ ] You love mohawks
•[X] You love Music.
•[X] Hate people who pretend to be something they are not
•TOTAL: [3]
•HIGH CLASS:•
•[ ] You go/have gone to a tanning salon.
•[X] You own an iPod/mp3/mp4 player.
•[ ] You love Starbucks.
•[ ] You have been called a brat.
•[ ] You have tons of shoes
•[ ] you own more than 5 thingss from nordstrom/sax fith avenue/neiman marcus/bloomingdales.
•[X] You have a laptop/your own comp.
•[X] You like going shopping.
•TOTAL: [3]
•GOTHIC:•
•[X] Black is one of your favorite colors.
•[ ] You wear chains.
•[X] you like heavy metal.
•[ ] you've shopped at hot topic
•[ ] youve worn black lipstick
•[ ] You have/had/or wanted piercings
•[ ] You own a pair of Tripp pants
•[X] You have at least one unnaturally colored haired friend.
•TOTAL: [3]
•EMO:•
•[X] You are depressed sometimes.
•[ ] You have/had dark colored thick-rimmed glasses.
•[ ] You cry easily.
•[X] You like emo music
•[X] You've kept a journal/diary.
•[X] You have written a sad poem/story.
•[ ] You have dyed hair
•[X] You're sad when you're drunk
•TOTAL: [5]
•GHETTO:•
•[ ] You like rap.
•[ ] have said "Fo Sho, Fo Shizzle, Fo Sheezy, etc"
•[ ] You have worn/wanted a grill.
•[ ] You have had a freestyling contest.
•[ ] You have worn your shoes with the tongue flipped out.
•[X] You've said the N word to a black person and didnt get punched
•[ ] You know most of the lines from Boyz N Da Hood
•[ ] You own a huge gold chain with a giant gold pendant
•TOTAL: [1]
•HARDCORE:•
•[X] You like loud music.
•[X] You love/like the Ninja Turtles.
•[ ] You have slip-on shoes.
•[ ] People have called you a freak and meant it lovingly
•[X] u love to "hardcore" dance
•[ ] Your hair has been dyed more than one color/highlights
•[X] You wear jeans a lot.
•TOTAL: [4]
•PREP:•
•[ ] You LOVE The OC.
•[ ] You have a small sized dog.
•[ ] Your usual outfits consist of pink.
•[X] You like buying stuff.
•[ ] you shop at preppy stores
•[ ] Getting your nails done is a fun thing.
•[ ] You have big sunglasses
•[X] You can't go anywhere without your phone/ipod, mp3/mp4 player.
•TOTAL: [2]
•ATHLETIC:•
•[ ] You watch the Superbowl.
•[ ] You own track shoes or cleats other sports related shoes.
•[ ] You collect jerseys.
•[ ] You have/ had a special shelf for trophies and awards.
•[ ] Your garage/shed consists of sports equipment.
•[ ] You belong/belonged to a team.
•[ ] You have a specific number preferred for your jersey.
•TOTAL: [0]
•SCENE:•
•[ ] You like putting little bows in your hair
•[ ] You have a mini-skirt.
•[ ] You have parted your hair to the side.
•[ ] You think polka-dots are cute.
•[X] You have done a peace sign while you pose for a picture.
•[ ] You've been called scene before.
•[ ] You have dyed/colored you hair a bright neon color
•[ ] You wear/wore long, colorful socks with your skirts
•TOTAL: [1]
•REDNECK:•
•[ ] Gone four wheeling.
•[ ] Went hunting.
•[ ] Owned a four/three-wheeler or dirt bike...ect.
•[ ] Like to go fishing.
•[ ] Eat beef jerky.
•[ ] Ever said GIT-R-DONE.
•[ ] Listened to the song Redneck Woman.
•[ ] Know who Bocephus is
•TOTAL: [0]
•METALHEAD•
•[X] You wear band shirts a lot.
•[ ] If people down talk metal you down talk their favorite music.
•[X] You like bands like As I Lay Dying, Lamb Of God, and All That Remains.
•[X] You HATE emos.
•[X] You love Black Sabbath.
•[ ] You have gone to Ozzfest
•[X] You like to headbang.
•[ ] You don't like rap
•[X ] You have a taste for classic rock as well.
•TOTAL: [6]
•The 1 that you have the most X's under will be your title!!•
I never did get why everyone else hangs out in pigeon park. (Just google, 'Pigeon park Emo', just do it). (Look here For more and here
Hanging out in Pigeon Park, its what we did back then. Even as a teenager, we did. Well, we were supposed. It was easy for everyone to get to, next to the shops and the bus stops, It was green and had benches. We'd walk around and down town, down to the record shops, down to where the skateboarders go, down to where the kids hang out. Go down the record shops, file through the racks.....wonder if that record really is worth buying. No point buying records just to make up the numbers. better to have one record that is loved than 10 you'll never play or 10 just to fit in.
What we did was walk around, look bored, do shopping, hang out, and talk rubbish. And then just go home, and listen to music, or watch TV. And thats what we did. All day. Everyday. From Friday. Until monday. When it was school again.
It always bored me. Always will. Just hanging out and talking, That pointless, needless rebellion thing just because you can. because there's nothing better to do. And its better than nothing.
People you know. People you meet. People mistaking saying something for having something to say.Better to be thought a fool than open one's mouth and confirm it. Thats why sometimes, I keep my mouth shut. keep quiet. keep your ears open, and your mouth closed - and you will find out things maybe you're not supposed to know.
In a room full of strangers, some call me friend. Some of them truly are friends. Some are just people I've met. So many people try to be my myspace friend or whatever...I usually ignore them. I'm not into racking up a zillion friends on there, just because I want to appear popular. Its never like that.Friendship is an important thing - and its not just about trying to be the most popular.Its about the quality of friendship. I'd rather have a dozen friends I can confide in, than a hundred who wouldn't care if I live or die.
I'd rather be accepted for who I am...than loved who I am not. Wouldn't we all?
How 'council' are you? I'm Danger Zone.
1 Have you ever purchased something from Bejam or Iceland? Yarp.
2. Have you ever owned an electrical appliance made by Hinari? Neeurp
3. Have you ever purchased a KFC family bucket? Yarp.
4. Have you ever hung a pine fresh tree shaped air freshener on your
rear view mirror?Neeurp
5. Have you ever bought or worn shoes from Barratts? Yarp.
6. Have you ever considered Pizza Hut an Italian Restaurant?Neeurp.
7. Have you ever bought Woolworths Ladybird clothes for kids? Neeurp.
8. Have you ever eaten a Findus Lasagne? Yarp.Neeurp.
9. Have you ever worn jewellery from "Elizabeth Duke" at Argos?Neeurp.
10. Have you ever eaten a pot noodle?Neeurp.
11. Have you ever bought fresh cut flowers from petrol station as a
present?Neeurp.
12. Have you ever bought second class stamps? Yarp.Neeurp.
13. Have you ever knowingly bought own brand cola? Yarp.Neeurp.
14. Do you think Marks & Spencer's food hall is too expensive? Yarp.Neeurp.
15. Have you ever taken a Stenaline Ferry anywhere?Neeurp.
16. Have you anything in your wardrobe which is at least 50% polyester?Neeurp.
17. Have you ever fantasised about owning a Ford Escort?Neeurp.
18. Are you on first name terms with any bus drivers?Neeurp.
19. Have you ever recommended a Berni Inn as a decent steak restaurant?Neeurp.
20. Have you ever relieved a hotel room of its freebie shower gel or
shampoo? Yarp.
21. Have you ever drunk a can of lager you found on a train?Neeurp.
22. Have you ever offered to buy a cigarette from someone?Neeurp.
23. Have you ever brought a screw top bottle of wine to a dinner party?Neeurp.
24. Have you ever referred to dessert as "afters"? Yarp.
25. Have you ever worn the same pair of socks 2 days running? Yarp.
26. Have you ever removed a boiled sweet or gum and saved it for later?Neeurp.
27. Have you ever left washing out on the line for more than 24 hours?Neeurp.
28. Have you ever dreamed of owning a caravanette?Neeurp.
29. Have you ever christened your home with a name and then included it
on your postal address ie "Dunroamin"? Neeurp.
30. Have you ever bought a garden ornament from B&Q, ie stone squirrel,
ornamental wheelbarrow etc?Neeurp.
31. Have you ever owned an "eternal beau" dinner or tea service? Neeurp.
32. Have you ever owned or used a sausage dog draught excluder? Neeurp.
33. Have you ever erected a flashing snowman or fairy lights outside
your house at Christmas? Neeurp.
34. Have you ever placed a jewel encrusted tissue box on your rear
parcel shelf? Neeurp.
35. Have you ever visited a Little Chef or Happy Eater apart from to
use the loos in desperation? Neeurp.
36. Have you ever cut out and used money off coupons from magazines? Neeurp.
37. Have you ever received a Christmas Card from your local Kebab
house/pizza place/greasy spoon? Neeurp.
38. Do you know anyone from Feltham? Neeurp.
39. Have you ever bought and used "Shake n' Vac"? Neeurp.
40. Are any of your parents or family well known "down the precinct"? Neeurp.
41. Do you refuse to poo at work ? Neeurp.
42. Have you ever done it with a dutch bird/bloke ? Neeurp.
43. Do vehicles have a nasty habit of crashing into your house/car for
no apparent reason ? Neeurp.
44. Have you ever been to Magaluf ? Neeurp.
45 Were any children in your family pierced before the age of 3? Yarp.
46 Have you ever put a fag out in a half empty mug or on a dinner
plate? Neeurp.
47 Have you ever asked whether someone wants the bath water after you? Neeurp.
48 Have you ever gone on a Christmas Shopping coach trip? Neeurp.
49 Did you ever have Tip Top with tinned fruit? Neeurp.
50 Do you have any children in your family with a middle name of Marie
or Louise e.g Kelly-Marie or Emma-Louise and both are used when calling
the child ? Neeurp.
SCORES
Now tot up your "yes" scores and check below to see if you are
'council':
0 yes answers
You live in Mayfair and spend all your time at Harvey Nicks. All your
friends are called Henry or Henrietta and you've never even heard of
Top
Shop. You don't drive as your chauffeur takes you everywhere. You live
on a macrobiotic diet carefully prepared for you by Jamie Oliver.
The only airlines you recognise are those that daddy owns. The only
councilite you have ever come across is a stuffed one created by Damien
Hurst and showing at the Tate Modern.
1-5 yes answers
You're generally far removed from council land. However, your brother
once introduced you to a girl who lived on an estate and shattered your
illusions of Barratt Homes being a character from an Emily Bronte
novel.
You like expensive shops and generally only travel by London Taxi. Your
mother once served you fish fingers, however you have adapated enough
in
adult life to only purchase Tesco's finest crab cakes as a substitute.
You have the presence of mind to sneer at a bottle of Freixenet.
6-10 yes answers
You are definitely entering the danger zone here. You have owned at
sometime in your life a pet fish won from a funfair. You regularly buy
Superdrug's own brand toiletries but ensure you
carry them home in a Clinique carrier bag. You have a number of gold
cards and a run a respectable enough car, however, you would do well to
remove the "Baby on Board" sticker from the back. You enjoy good food
and wine courtesy of Delia Smith's home cookery course and have been to
University.
11-15 yes answers
You have a whiff of dog blanket about you and your shoes need to be
resoled. You enjoy garden centres and eating out at country pubs.
You'requite well known at the local KwikFit and think nothing of sticking a
Bart Simpson doll to your rear seat window. You have often enjoyed a
curry or kebab after a night down the pub and have used a doorway as a
public toilet. It is likely that you have been arrested for a minor
offence and count George Best as an idol. You are likely to have be en
educated to A Level standard.
16+ yes answers
There is no hope for you - you are well and truly an escapee from
Council Island. You will now forever be known as "pikey pikey do as ya
likey". You think that Blue Nun is a choice wine and always cook Spag
Bol at dinner parties. None of your home cutlery matches and a few of
your mugs have established chipping to the handles. Every room in your
house is painted Magnolia and you have a dado rail in your living room.
You name your children after pop or filmstars and buy the Sunday Sport
as an informative newspaper. Your car is made by Ford and has fag burns
in the driver seat. You've only been to Spain on holiday.
1 Have you ever purchased something from Bejam or Iceland? Yarp.
2. Have you ever owned an electrical appliance made by Hinari? Neeurp
3. Have you ever purchased a KFC family bucket? Yarp.
4. Have you ever hung a pine fresh tree shaped air freshener on your
rear view mirror?Neeurp
5. Have you ever bought or worn shoes from Barratts? Yarp.
6. Have you ever considered Pizza Hut an Italian Restaurant?Neeurp.
7. Have you ever bought Woolworths Ladybird clothes for kids? Neeurp.
8. Have you ever eaten a Findus Lasagne? Yarp.Neeurp.
9. Have you ever worn jewellery from "Elizabeth Duke" at Argos?Neeurp.
10. Have you ever eaten a pot noodle?Neeurp.
11. Have you ever bought fresh cut flowers from petrol station as a
present?Neeurp.
12. Have you ever bought second class stamps? Yarp.Neeurp.
13. Have you ever knowingly bought own brand cola? Yarp.Neeurp.
14. Do you think Marks & Spencer's food hall is too expensive? Yarp.Neeurp.
15. Have you ever taken a Stenaline Ferry anywhere?Neeurp.
16. Have you anything in your wardrobe which is at least 50% polyester?Neeurp.
17. Have you ever fantasised about owning a Ford Escort?Neeurp.
18. Are you on first name terms with any bus drivers?Neeurp.
19. Have you ever recommended a Berni Inn as a decent steak restaurant?Neeurp.
20. Have you ever relieved a hotel room of its freebie shower gel or
shampoo? Yarp.
21. Have you ever drunk a can of lager you found on a train?Neeurp.
22. Have you ever offered to buy a cigarette from someone?Neeurp.
23. Have you ever brought a screw top bottle of wine to a dinner party?Neeurp.
24. Have you ever referred to dessert as "afters"? Yarp.
25. Have you ever worn the same pair of socks 2 days running? Yarp.
26. Have you ever removed a boiled sweet or gum and saved it for later?Neeurp.
27. Have you ever left washing out on the line for more than 24 hours?Neeurp.
28. Have you ever dreamed of owning a caravanette?Neeurp.
29. Have you ever christened your home with a name and then included it
on your postal address ie "Dunroamin"? Neeurp.
30. Have you ever bought a garden ornament from B&Q, ie stone squirrel,
ornamental wheelbarrow etc?Neeurp.
31. Have you ever owned an "eternal beau" dinner or tea service? Neeurp.
32. Have you ever owned or used a sausage dog draught excluder? Neeurp.
33. Have you ever erected a flashing snowman or fairy lights outside
your house at Christmas? Neeurp.
34. Have you ever placed a jewel encrusted tissue box on your rear
parcel shelf? Neeurp.
35. Have you ever visited a Little Chef or Happy Eater apart from to
use the loos in desperation? Neeurp.
36. Have you ever cut out and used money off coupons from magazines? Neeurp.
37. Have you ever received a Christmas Card from your local Kebab
house/pizza place/greasy spoon? Neeurp.
38. Do you know anyone from Feltham? Neeurp.
39. Have you ever bought and used "Shake n' Vac"? Neeurp.
40. Are any of your parents or family well known "down the precinct"? Neeurp.
41. Do you refuse to poo at work ? Neeurp.
42. Have you ever done it with a dutch bird/bloke ? Neeurp.
43. Do vehicles have a nasty habit of crashing into your house/car for
no apparent reason ? Neeurp.
44. Have you ever been to Magaluf ? Neeurp.
45 Were any children in your family pierced before the age of 3? Yarp.
46 Have you ever put a fag out in a half empty mug or on a dinner
plate? Neeurp.
47 Have you ever asked whether someone wants the bath water after you? Neeurp.
48 Have you ever gone on a Christmas Shopping coach trip? Neeurp.
49 Did you ever have Tip Top with tinned fruit? Neeurp.
50 Do you have any children in your family with a middle name of Marie
or Louise e.g Kelly-Marie or Emma-Louise and both are used when calling
the child ? Neeurp.
SCORES
Now tot up your "yes" scores and check below to see if you are
'council':
0 yes answers
You live in Mayfair and spend all your time at Harvey Nicks. All your
friends are called Henry or Henrietta and you've never even heard of
Top
Shop. You don't drive as your chauffeur takes you everywhere. You live
on a macrobiotic diet carefully prepared for you by Jamie Oliver.
The only airlines you recognise are those that daddy owns. The only
councilite you have ever come across is a stuffed one created by Damien
Hurst and showing at the Tate Modern.
1-5 yes answers
You're generally far removed from council land. However, your brother
once introduced you to a girl who lived on an estate and shattered your
illusions of Barratt Homes being a character from an Emily Bronte
novel.
You like expensive shops and generally only travel by London Taxi. Your
mother once served you fish fingers, however you have adapated enough
in
adult life to only purchase Tesco's finest crab cakes as a substitute.
You have the presence of mind to sneer at a bottle of Freixenet.
6-10 yes answers
You are definitely entering the danger zone here. You have owned at
sometime in your life a pet fish won from a funfair. You regularly buy
Superdrug's own brand toiletries but ensure you
carry them home in a Clinique carrier bag. You have a number of gold
cards and a run a respectable enough car, however, you would do well to
remove the "Baby on Board" sticker from the back. You enjoy good food
and wine courtesy of Delia Smith's home cookery course and have been to
University.
11-15 yes answers
You have a whiff of dog blanket about you and your shoes need to be
resoled. You enjoy garden centres and eating out at country pubs.
You'requite well known at the local KwikFit and think nothing of sticking a
Bart Simpson doll to your rear seat window. You have often enjoyed a
curry or kebab after a night down the pub and have used a doorway as a
public toilet. It is likely that you have been arrested for a minor
offence and count George Best as an idol. You are likely to have be en
educated to A Level standard.
16+ yes answers
There is no hope for you - you are well and truly an escapee from
Council Island. You will now forever be known as "pikey pikey do as ya
likey". You think that Blue Nun is a choice wine and always cook Spag
Bol at dinner parties. None of your home cutlery matches and a few of
your mugs have established chipping to the handles. Every room in your
house is painted Magnolia and you have a dado rail in your living room.
You name your children after pop or filmstars and buy the Sunday Sport
as an informative newspaper. Your car is made by Ford and has fag burns
in the driver seat. You've only been to Spain on holiday.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Welcome to The Truth Quiz.
70 Questions.70 Answers.Only continue if your going to answer TRUTHFULLY.
Proceed:
1. Name. Age. Gender? Graham.34. Male.
2. What describes your relationship situation?
In a relationship. Quite a rare occurance for me.
3. Where were you three hours ago?
At my desk at work.
4. What was the last movie you saw?
last night, i watched Hollywood Homicide and Guy X.
5. Do you live with your parents?
No.
7. Who was your last conversation with and what was it about?
At work, about work stuff. Failing that, with the girl about plans for the week.
8. What happened last time you were drunk?
I slowly sobered up, drinking water, dancing horrendously badly, and watching friends of mine do things I wouldn't do.
9. Ever been out without underwear on?
No. it chafes.
10. Color of your shirt?
*looks down*. Cornflower Blue.
12. Ever been to the beach at night?
yes. It was dark, and sandy, but great. I wandered across Folkestone beach, next to the harbour, looked into the town.
13. Good advice if you ever go camping?
Flounce. You can't be camp if you don't Flounce. Wear a Pink Shirt, or a skintight white t-shirt and blue denim jeans. Oh, and be fabulous.
14. Are you a bad influence?
Quite Possibly.It all depends on how corrupt you are. I mean, if you are the addled, debauched, kind of person, probably not. if you are a church goer, possibly I am. I think though that ultimately, I'm fairly well behave. I drink in moderation, and know when to stop. I don't do illegal substances, even if everyone else around me is. I always try to remain level headed and in control.
15. What was the last argument you had about?
I think I was being dumped.It was less of an argument, more of a negotiation really. But it wasn't very nice, not at all.
18. Rather have your name or your siblings name?
I'd rather have my stage name.
19. Have a crush on anyone?
Actually, I do.
20. Do they like you back?
I think that they think that I'm quite nice, well - at least i hope they do.
21. Favorite colors?
Black.
22. Ever held a baby?
Yes, my own. Both of them. Little Wonders...
23. Last song you heard
Erm..."We are Komputer" by Komputer. (The version from the Komputer Ep, which is fantastic, by the way. The album is poorly seqeunced and uses inferior mixes, but if rejigged it is the best Kraftwerk pastiche i've ever heard.)
24. Wear glasses?
All the time, pal. Gettign some new ones soon, come to think of it.
25. Last thing someone bought you?
A pint, I think, on Saturday night.
27. Does your best friend have a myspace?
One of them doesn't, but it seems like everyone else does.
28. Whose page did you visit last?
www.birmingham.gov.uk
29. Speak to any of your ex's?
Some, but by no means all. Some of them parted with me on bad terms, some good terms.
30. Where is your phone?
In my pocket.
31. Next gig your going to?
Oooooh, not sure yet. Might be carter USM.
33. Do you have one or more Britney Spears CDs?
I own one single - I think someone I liked did a remix.
35. Best gig you've ever been to?
Pop Will Eat Itself, middlesbrough Arena, May 1992.
37. Emo or Scene?
Down the road, not across the street, kiddies.
38. iPod or Zune?
my mp3 player. 2gb. £20.
39. Do you watch Family Guy regularly?
Nope.
40. Seen The Simpsons Movie?
yes. its ok.
41. Do you read trashy romance novels often?
Never. Meaningless busywords, an empty waste of my time.
43. Do you sing in the car?
My own car? never. i don't own one.
44. Do you ever sing in the shower?
No. i don't do showers. But i have been known to sing in the bath.
45. What's in your CD player right now?
i think....Actually, I can't remember. I think it was the Human League's "Dare"
46. Last person to tell you they loved you?
They know who they are.
53. Do you think they meant it?
Yes.
54. Last person spoke to on the phone?
Mark.
55. Do you like to dance?
I can't dance, but I love to do it.
57. Have you ever written a song?
Yes, quite a few. The band I was in - VoLuMe - played a couple of gigs, and we played seven or eight or our songs.
60. Ever been proposed to or proposed to someone?Yes.
61. Want to go to Uni/College?
Been there, done it.
64. Last Pub you went to?
The Ship, in Soho. Never been before, not sure If I will ever make it again.but it was damn damn good.
65. Ever stayed up all night?
Hella yeah.It gets a bit tiring after a bit.
66. Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, or Star Wars?The one true trilogy. Star Wars.
67. Who is the next person you will kiss ?See question 46.
68. A recent memory:
Cradling my new born son in my arms. He is so beautiful.
69. What's your favorite Disney movie?
Lilo And Stitch.
70. Baths or Showers?
baths.
Monday. A day at work. A few baby pictures, and some apparently broken links. Go home, and cook. Watch a couple of movies, write and blog.
Hollywood Homicide. its not very good. not at all. In fact, its a crushing disappointment. So much potential, wasted for a generic police buddy comedy. A great shame, because there's potential just squandered. I had hoped for a little more from Ron Shelton, who did the otherwise pretty good Dark Blue.
Guy X. Guy X is pretty good, like The Thing meets Catch 22. Dark and bleak military satire, about a man posted to a military base in Greenland by mistake, and who stumbles into a heap of trouble when he finds the real reason for the base being up there. its no comedy though, no matter what they say on the box; Its a dark, morbid, reflective work, like Buffalo Soldiers but not quite as good.
its time to sleep.
"Drinking in A London Pub, Dancing in a Soho Club, Noise and Music all around...."
Anyway, I get to London. I meet up with my friend. its been a long time, since I've seen them. A very long time.11 or 12 years.The last time I definitely remember meeting them is in October, 1995, just after my mother died. It's interesting. I don't have her number, she doesn't have mine - its all been organised online, so lets hope it gets sorted. My friend turns up. (Apparently, I'm the spit of my online picture, which is good - It makes me easy to identify.)
"Do you like walking?" she asks. "Yeah, I do", I say. "That's good, because I don't do the tube". So we're going to be doing a lot of walking. We talk. We walk. We go down to Westminster. The Abbey ahead of us, the Houses of Parliament. Look at the new statue of Nelson Mandela, all bronzed like Nicolas Cage in Next. The statue looks odd somehow, and then I figure out why. its the hands. He has oversized hands, oversized like Godzilla. And a flowery shirt. I can hardly imagine this liberator for peace in a flowery shirt, when we should be celebrating hisstuggle against the oppressors on the basis of his skin. Instead the statue looks like a man who has somehow wandered off the beach in search of a cool pina colada, and instead found himself as a meeter and a greeter in Hot Tropics.
From the man who was once deemed a terrorist, now his envisage is just showing us something else. Not a man in chains. Not a man who spent 27 years in prison. Not a man who took on his oppressor. Not a man given the number 44664. There is nothing about Nelson Mandela there in that bronze. They forget that he was a terrorist. Now he is a freedom fighter, a liberator. Its funny how perceptions change. I don't think one day that they will be making statues of Bin Laden to put in Parliament Square, though.
We walk down to the council house, and visit the Star Wars echibition. Its Rubbish. Its not worth £16.50. nowhere near. £6.50 maybe, but not £16.50. In and out in an hour, I was. Well not worth it. Sure there's some interesting stuff there, but just nowhere near enough for that price. Its at this point, I start recycling Eddie Izzard jokes. The Death Star really wasn't a good name, after all; its a bit negative. Maybe the Happy Star would have been a better name. And all that steel too. How dull - I mean, why not paint it pink? Its not like its incongrous, being 120 miles wide and destroying planets with a superlaser. Paint it pink, give it a happy spin. Rename it perhaps. "Liberation Star" might be a good name; bringing order to the universe and fighting terrorism and Rebellion.....
Briefly debate going on the Eye. Look at the queue. Give up. Walk back across the river, up to Covent Garden. Debate food. Go to eat and then off to Soho. Go to the pub with the best jukebox in the world, where every song across a four hour period I recognise almost instantly - even if the random play option appears to be working in alphabetical order. Which means, Prince, Primal Scream, and Presley, and Pulp. Her bloke turns up, and we talk.
its good, its good to meet new people. People who you know, but at the same time, haven't seen in so long, its like rediscovering that afresh. Being the hermit that I am, It very rarely happens. next thing I know, I'm in a pub called the Ship, surrounded by people singing along to the Dropkick Murphys and Van Halen. They are playing Rancid when i walk in, and there's I'm surrounded by people I've never met before who take me in as there own. What makes it difficult is them having their own internal language, like any group of friends - a shared common collective background and interests. In this case, its for a lot to do with a site thats somewhere between grot and politics, and private messageboards that I don't know a damn about. This possibly explains a lot about why I spend a considerable portion of the night being quite quiet - I don't know half of what they are all talking about. And for those times, there's jagermeister. So it seems.
By now, its dark. Hop across the street. I'm in a basement club. Next to me, is the gold disc for "Appetite For Destruction", as presented to Malcolm Dome, on the wall. Dancing in a Soho Club, Noise and Music all around...
The DJ puts her hands in the air, shouting out loud as the music shouts proud, inviting and accepting the adulation of the sound of the crowd. The music - electropop, 80s, britpop - meshes together. From Ladytron to Elastica, from Beastie Boys to Placebo, from Bowies 'Lets Dance' to Rubenesque, Burlesque queens with long legs and gothic dress - mesh over their face, hats and tattoes. Its like Suicide Girls, ona dnacefloor. unapproachable, arrogrant, queens of the dancefloor. Sharp Cheekbones and sharp acidic comments, they brush the men away for daring to approach them. they know everyone wants them. And even if the boys and the girls don't want them, they know they want them. Such is the power of self belief, of self confidence, of self delusion. The boys try to dance with them, to take their chances and are cruelly pushed away, dismissively. Unworthy. For tonight, these girls are queens - all the worries and insecurities washed away with makeup, burlesque and control. Wash away everything else.You don't deserve us, we are too good for you. Always and forever.
The four pints are wearing off, slowly. It was my plan after all - I know exactly what I'm like when I drink. I peak early, and then I go on the water, I hydrate like Jarhead, and keep on rockin'. And Just as I'm coming down from my slight drunkenness, they're coming up. Everyone is suddenly...very...huggy. I just don't do that. I don't do any of that. What I do, is nothing. If you choose to do that its your choice. Not mine. Maybe a few pints - I'm just too straight edge, a concept I have to explain.
By the time, we leave, its 2.32AM, and I haven't eaten in twelve hours.Find a all night burger bar, eat a piece of crap sandwich. I'm stil hungry, so I buy another burger from another burger bar, and I'm just about fed. For now. Get the night bus to brixton, all the way back through the streets thronging with people arguing and shouting and snogging and kissing and desperation. Back through the 24 hour shops, where the staff battle insomnia for minimum wage.
I can't let myself sleep. Never midn that I've had about five hours sleep in 44. Not important. What is important is that I don't even know where I'm going, I don't know where I'm at, and the three people around me on the night bus home are...asleep. Dozing. Through Piccadilly Circus, past Trafalgar Square, and Parliament Square, all in the middle of the night as dawn races towards us.
Get back to the place where they live. its now almost four in the morning. The others join us, via a taxi ride to get some supplies. A Human League song pops into my head. One of the people tells me I am interesting, because I always seem to add in extra stuff he has never heard of about obscure things. very obscure things. People start to get the rizla out, hook up the Wii and start playing Wii Tennis. The lines on a compact get passed around. I am offered, I decline. I always do. People pay no attention to it.
Come morning, I'm probably the only one has slept. I don't get the comedown that the others do. I've slept well. Everyone else has only two, maybe three hours sleep. I've had seven. The one thing I hate after a night out - when i crash at anyone else's - is the fact that I can't sleep, that inevitably I awake and I feel like Sunday is a day that just rolls off into nothing.
Down into the high street. A Burger and a bap, some chips and a pint. Afterwards, a walk down the high St. , and the group slowly splits up. Some head off home, courtesy of the bus home. Some walk. Me, and what do I do? I get back, back to town myself. I get off the bus, i walk around. In Trafalgar Square, muffled beats float into the air as Chemical Brothers soundcheck. I see the signs, and the petitions of corporate propaganda from MacDonalds beam into our retinas.
Change the definition, it says; a corporation complaining about the fact that the Oxford English Dictionary defines McJob in a different way to the way the Corporation wants. ie in a way that dare criticise the corporation. According to the proaganda, a mcjob can be Life Enhancing. Pure Energy. Freedom to live my life the way I choose. All as a minimum wage burger flipper.Wow. Its fantastic, that they care so much about the possible negative connotations of a maldefined word. Its sad, in itsd own way. That this megacorporation just can't accpet that even if we don;t love them, we might still at least buy dead rotting cow burgers sometimes.
I make it to the coach on time. I travel. Eventually, I get home.Home. Home Again. I like to be there when I can.....
Anyway, I get to London. I meet up with my friend. its been a long time, since I've seen them. A very long time.11 or 12 years.The last time I definitely remember meeting them is in October, 1995, just after my mother died. It's interesting. I don't have her number, she doesn't have mine - its all been organised online, so lets hope it gets sorted. My friend turns up. (Apparently, I'm the spit of my online picture, which is good - It makes me easy to identify.)
"Do you like walking?" she asks. "Yeah, I do", I say. "That's good, because I don't do the tube". So we're going to be doing a lot of walking. We talk. We walk. We go down to Westminster. The Abbey ahead of us, the Houses of Parliament. Look at the new statue of Nelson Mandela, all bronzed like Nicolas Cage in Next. The statue looks odd somehow, and then I figure out why. its the hands. He has oversized hands, oversized like Godzilla. And a flowery shirt. I can hardly imagine this liberator for peace in a flowery shirt, when we should be celebrating hisstuggle against the oppressors on the basis of his skin. Instead the statue looks like a man who has somehow wandered off the beach in search of a cool pina colada, and instead found himself as a meeter and a greeter in Hot Tropics.
From the man who was once deemed a terrorist, now his envisage is just showing us something else. Not a man in chains. Not a man who spent 27 years in prison. Not a man who took on his oppressor. Not a man given the number 44664. There is nothing about Nelson Mandela there in that bronze. They forget that he was a terrorist. Now he is a freedom fighter, a liberator. Its funny how perceptions change. I don't think one day that they will be making statues of Bin Laden to put in Parliament Square, though.
We walk down to the council house, and visit the Star Wars echibition. Its Rubbish. Its not worth £16.50. nowhere near. £6.50 maybe, but not £16.50. In and out in an hour, I was. Well not worth it. Sure there's some interesting stuff there, but just nowhere near enough for that price. Its at this point, I start recycling Eddie Izzard jokes. The Death Star really wasn't a good name, after all; its a bit negative. Maybe the Happy Star would have been a better name. And all that steel too. How dull - I mean, why not paint it pink? Its not like its incongrous, being 120 miles wide and destroying planets with a superlaser. Paint it pink, give it a happy spin. Rename it perhaps. "Liberation Star" might be a good name; bringing order to the universe and fighting terrorism and Rebellion.....
Briefly debate going on the Eye. Look at the queue. Give up. Walk back across the river, up to Covent Garden. Debate food. Go to eat and then off to Soho. Go to the pub with the best jukebox in the world, where every song across a four hour period I recognise almost instantly - even if the random play option appears to be working in alphabetical order. Which means, Prince, Primal Scream, and Presley, and Pulp. Her bloke turns up, and we talk.
its good, its good to meet new people. People who you know, but at the same time, haven't seen in so long, its like rediscovering that afresh. Being the hermit that I am, It very rarely happens. next thing I know, I'm in a pub called the Ship, surrounded by people singing along to the Dropkick Murphys and Van Halen. They are playing Rancid when i walk in, and there's I'm surrounded by people I've never met before who take me in as there own. What makes it difficult is them having their own internal language, like any group of friends - a shared common collective background and interests. In this case, its for a lot to do with a site thats somewhere between grot and politics, and private messageboards that I don't know a damn about. This possibly explains a lot about why I spend a considerable portion of the night being quite quiet - I don't know half of what they are all talking about. And for those times, there's jagermeister. So it seems.
By now, its dark. Hop across the street. I'm in a basement club. Next to me, is the gold disc for "Appetite For Destruction", as presented to Malcolm Dome, on the wall. Dancing in a Soho Club, Noise and Music all around...
The DJ puts her hands in the air, shouting out loud as the music shouts proud, inviting and accepting the adulation of the sound of the crowd. The music - electropop, 80s, britpop - meshes together. From Ladytron to Elastica, from Beastie Boys to Placebo, from Bowies 'Lets Dance' to Rubenesque, Burlesque queens with long legs and gothic dress - mesh over their face, hats and tattoes. Its like Suicide Girls, ona dnacefloor. unapproachable, arrogrant, queens of the dancefloor. Sharp Cheekbones and sharp acidic comments, they brush the men away for daring to approach them. they know everyone wants them. And even if the boys and the girls don't want them, they know they want them. Such is the power of self belief, of self confidence, of self delusion. The boys try to dance with them, to take their chances and are cruelly pushed away, dismissively. Unworthy. For tonight, these girls are queens - all the worries and insecurities washed away with makeup, burlesque and control. Wash away everything else.You don't deserve us, we are too good for you. Always and forever.
The four pints are wearing off, slowly. It was my plan after all - I know exactly what I'm like when I drink. I peak early, and then I go on the water, I hydrate like Jarhead, and keep on rockin'. And Just as I'm coming down from my slight drunkenness, they're coming up. Everyone is suddenly...very...huggy. I just don't do that. I don't do any of that. What I do, is nothing. If you choose to do that its your choice. Not mine. Maybe a few pints - I'm just too straight edge, a concept I have to explain.
By the time, we leave, its 2.32AM, and I haven't eaten in twelve hours.Find a all night burger bar, eat a piece of crap sandwich. I'm stil hungry, so I buy another burger from another burger bar, and I'm just about fed. For now. Get the night bus to brixton, all the way back through the streets thronging with people arguing and shouting and snogging and kissing and desperation. Back through the 24 hour shops, where the staff battle insomnia for minimum wage.
I can't let myself sleep. Never midn that I've had about five hours sleep in 44. Not important. What is important is that I don't even know where I'm going, I don't know where I'm at, and the three people around me on the night bus home are...asleep. Dozing. Through Piccadilly Circus, past Trafalgar Square, and Parliament Square, all in the middle of the night as dawn races towards us.
Get back to the place where they live. its now almost four in the morning. The others join us, via a taxi ride to get some supplies. A Human League song pops into my head. One of the people tells me I am interesting, because I always seem to add in extra stuff he has never heard of about obscure things. very obscure things. People start to get the rizla out, hook up the Wii and start playing Wii Tennis. The lines on a compact get passed around. I am offered, I decline. I always do. People pay no attention to it.
Come morning, I'm probably the only one has slept. I don't get the comedown that the others do. I've slept well. Everyone else has only two, maybe three hours sleep. I've had seven. The one thing I hate after a night out - when i crash at anyone else's - is the fact that I can't sleep, that inevitably I awake and I feel like Sunday is a day that just rolls off into nothing.
Down into the high street. A Burger and a bap, some chips and a pint. Afterwards, a walk down the high St. , and the group slowly splits up. Some head off home, courtesy of the bus home. Some walk. Me, and what do I do? I get back, back to town myself. I get off the bus, i walk around. In Trafalgar Square, muffled beats float into the air as Chemical Brothers soundcheck. I see the signs, and the petitions of corporate propaganda from MacDonalds beam into our retinas.
Change the definition, it says; a corporation complaining about the fact that the Oxford English Dictionary defines McJob in a different way to the way the Corporation wants. ie in a way that dare criticise the corporation. According to the proaganda, a mcjob can be Life Enhancing. Pure Energy. Freedom to live my life the way I choose. All as a minimum wage burger flipper.Wow. Its fantastic, that they care so much about the possible negative connotations of a maldefined word. Its sad, in itsd own way. That this megacorporation just can't accpet that even if we don;t love them, we might still at least buy dead rotting cow burgers sometimes.
I make it to the coach on time. I travel. Eventually, I get home.Home. Home Again. I like to be there when I can.....
One thing I hate about coach journeys is people. Sounds horribly misanthropic of me, I know - I just like my own space, and to be left alone while i travel.
For this reason, I like to sit at the back. Even since school, sitting at the back of the bus was a simple act of token, empty rebellion. By distancing yourself from the figure of authority (the driver), by making him as powerless over you as possible. Downstairs at the back is mostly harmless, but upstairs you are away from the short arm of the law.
On the hand, if you are tired and fancy a nap, at the back is the only place you can go; because with no gangway, the seats stretch out five or so across. *taps nose*
So when I get to the coach, i head to the back for a nap on the journey down ; the plan fails miserably. Before the coach has left, there's five or six lads - all dressed in white with flashes of red, expensive blue denim jeans and tracksuit bottoms. Brandnames abound. I look left, and there's a lacoste label. Someone puts on a jacket, and the words Rockport shout out at me. The obvious leader tries to engage me in conversation.
I'm wearing a generic white t-shirt and a hooded top, which combined with my hard as bloodY nails shaved head/goatee beard combination (read: this either makes me look very hard, as my mate ashley said - or very gay looking, so I was told the next day by my friend Michelle), and a lack of other affiliation (ie non-football), means that the obvious ringleader of the pack of lads turns to speak to me. He is your stereotypical wideboy - footie top, one diamond earstud, short cropped hair, wispy george muicheal beard, slip. he later on complains that people just look at him and trouble starts (can't work out why), and he later admits he once read a book - I wasn't surprised to find out it was 'Among The thugs' by Bill Buford (no, not the guy out of Saxon). its a great book, but thats not because of the subject - its because of the lucid, vibrant writing in it. However, it belongs to that peculiarly british 'lads beat people up in the name of footie / punch, fight and score' literary sub-genre. A subgenre that is swamped by a multitude of poorly written books designed as meaningless busywords - about as worth in a literary sense as the boy soldier stuff that Andy Mcnabb or Chris Ryan or whoever is doign the ghostwriting this week is doing.
"Going the game, mate?" he says.
"Nah", I say. i have to think quickly and on my feet to give him a legitimate reason to be going to london.On a level he would clearly understand. "Off to see a bird", I say. he smirks, and walks off.
The friend of mine in London isn't my bird, but I hardly thought it would be a good idea to engage this person in semantics. Probably couldn't spell it. Wanted to give him an answer an a minimum of engagement which was polite, and wouldn't encourage him.
A song comes into my head. Black Flag. My War.
"you think you're my friend but you're not: You're one of them,one of them, one of them..."
And I stick my headphones in, and resign myself to the fact I won't be napping on the way down.
The good thing about the headphones is, that is means that you can listen in to conversations with people thinking you are just listening to your tunes. (I managed to fit in the entire of Motley Crue's greatest hits, for a start). What this means is that that loose lips sink ships. As someone quite wisely said once, most criminals are boastful, and talk themselves into prison.
This guy, who loved the attention, was no different.He's boasting about the last time he was abroad. "tooled up" was the phrase he used - a common prison vernacular, because you only go tooled if you're to do a job. And doing a job means getting paid. So he went tooled up, boasting about a run in with german policemen, about picking up chairs and a bit of a ruck, in amongst endless debates of who is the best player and so forth. Blah blah blah. He spouts on about how he's got a gurkha knife, and says "If I took a strike, i'd take your leg off. No question". then he uses the phrases "We're all outgoing lads", and how great it is to go on holiday. About How those people in Majorca and stuff,"They wouldn't be living there if it wasn't for us". About how when you go abroad, "Look behind you, when you leave, its all trampled and trashed. After we trash the place, they still break even... you know you're getting your money's worth". And then they swap stories of scars and prison records. "In four years time, "he opines, "Whites will be in the minority". He says it like trash like him are something to be proud of, mind you.
"I dunno why." He says. "I'm not doing nothing. People just look at me, and there's trouble". Maybe its the fact that he looks like a thug that does it, eh? Its either that or its the East 17 lookalike's competition is in town.
People wonder why i can't stand football. No wonder us crazy englanders get a bad name abroad, with idiots like that out there. Criminals, vandals, hooligans.
Monday, September 10, 2007
I'm at the opticians.
I'm wearing a pair of glasses - all dials,colours, and calibrations. Lenses are swapped in and out, and he asks the same questions again. Checks the repsonses. makes notes.
"Look into the mirror", he says. "What is the line of letters you can see?"
"YUAXUAH", I spell out. For a second, I wonder what that would be in scrabble. How would it score on Scrabulous? Could I make my millions inventing an automated 'Scrabulator'*, for people to load in and use to auto cheat? Or would that be cheating?(*p.S. According to google, the 'scrabulator' doesn't exist, and brings back only 9 hits. Best make that 10, now)
Y-U-A-X-U-A-H. What a funny word, I think. Wonder what it means.
The opticians adjusts the lenses, all strange colours in the mirror. Dials and rims to be adjusted."Which is clearer? The red or the green circles?" He asks.I squint again. I look in the mirror, and its the serial killer from Silence of the Lambs looking back at the me. It's those Strange glasses, it really is.
I look in the mirror again, the lights off, the red and green, the half lit up board, into the balckness. He leans forward, with the pencil thin light blazing into my eyes. The pattern of veins on the interior of my eyeball light up pink and red, overlaid over the blackness like a heads up display. He repoeats it, over and over again. "Look up", he says. "Look down", he says. "Look to the left", he says. "Look to the right", he says. "Jump! how high!" He doesn't say.
I look in the mirror, and see my grandad's hair. I remember my granddad, quite well. Even then, back then, I loved having my back scratched, and I could do that for hours. He would do so, but there were times when he wouldn't care. Big red marks from damage to the skin hard and painful, occasionally the scratch marks of blood, he would draw. He either wouldn't pay attention or just not care. More than once, the marks wouldn't fade for days, and my mother would have to tell him to stop it, that he was hurting me. And he'd look beyond comprehension.
It's said - and I can't remember where; that baldness on the male side follows the mothers lineage. Specifically, whatever our mother had as her father, would be what you would end up with. I look at the pictures of my grandfather now, and see my hair line looking back at me. The middle, bald as a coot, the sides bushy but the top all gone. And I see my own hair, the
same middle completely gone, and realise thats what lay ahead. No dignity. No alternative. thats the way it was going to be, as simple as that. My dad on the other hand, said he had had the same hairline since he was 30, and that meant i'd be alright. (At this point, for some reason, there's the big noise from Family Fortunes that goes off when things go wrong...)
I looked at the pictures from yesterday, when its been three weeks since I shaved my head, and its so true.I was amazed how much hair I had, and at the same time, how little. And I knew it was never coming back.
So when I shaved my head, I'd pretty much committed myself to this for the rest of my life. I mean, once you've done it, it can't be undone. And I see it everytime I see a picture of him, the future ahead of me, without doubt. I can't pretend otherwise. The only option available to me is a fresh shave every two weeks or so, and that's that. I shave my head, and why?
Nothing to preserve.
Its all gone.At least that lunatic in silence of the lambs had hair though...
So many things to write. I've got about four different blog posts all crammed into my brain, trying to escape simultaneously. Its been a strange, long, and eventful weekend. I'll try to catch up at some point soon, real soon.Drinking in an English Pub, Dancing in a Soho Club, Tunes and noises all around...
Instead, I document with photos....
BABY PICTURES:-
i) The first picture of my son
ii) I wish I could sleep this well
iii) Still Sleeping
iv) Small and asleep
v) Holding him
vi) Daddy and Son
LONDON
vii) Alive and in Perfect Hibernation
viii) Stormtroopers Over London
ix) Self Portrait
x) Change the definition? More Corporate doublespeak
xi) Mcjob on the billboard
xii) More mcjob
xiii) 'Autoteller' Sign
xiv)Chemical Brothers soundchecking... uumpah uumpah....
xv) Five solders.... all with the same face for some reason
xvi) Stop Rebel Scum! (i think this is a talltrooper, judging by the giraffe-esque neck)
xvii) Big Ben
xviii) Mandela Zilla What Big hands, he has.
xix) Prisoner 44664. Not too sure of the flowery shirt, though
xx) the Abbey
I particularly like the Big ben picture, you know.
Friday, September 07, 2007
It's a boy.
born 2.30, 6lbs 7oz. Three weeks early.
I'm still in a shock. I only found out just as I was walking into work. She didn't tell me about the birth. i wanted to be there, but she didn't want me. I was wide awake as he was born, waiting for a call, or a message, to drop everything...I didn't get a call.
I first saw a text at 9:08 this morning. Visiting hours start at twelve.I just walked into work, went to the canteen and blubbed. I just wanted to be there. i was so upset I wasn't there. its still raw, that hurt.I wanted to be there. So much.
Can't wait to see him. Now we've got to choose names.I'm so excited, and nervous, and anxious, and upset and so much more, all at the same time.
(And I can't believe my section boss wanted me to stay and work the bloody morning after that. the office manager said I can go though...)
born 2.30, 6lbs 7oz. Three weeks early.
I'm still in a shock. I only found out just as I was walking into work. She didn't tell me about the birth. i wanted to be there, but she didn't want me. I was wide awake as he was born, waiting for a call, or a message, to drop everything...I didn't get a call.
I first saw a text at 9:08 this morning. Visiting hours start at twelve.I just walked into work, went to the canteen and blubbed. I just wanted to be there. i was so upset I wasn't there. its still raw, that hurt.I wanted to be there. So much.
Can't wait to see him. Now we've got to choose names.I'm so excited, and nervous, and anxious, and upset and so much more, all at the same time.
(And I can't believe my section boss wanted me to stay and work the bloody morning after that. the office manager said I can go though...)
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Severance.
Severance we watched because, well - a DVD you can stick back on anytime, should anything happen. At the moment I live my life so that there's nothing I can't walk away from at 30 seconds notice. We were supposed to be originally going to a movie this weds, but there's bigger fish.
However, Severance is a tired, cliched, boring and nasty little horror movies. I hate nothing more than filsm which mistake gore and guts and splatter for horror. Its not. Horror is when your mind fills with a vague sense of unease and dread - the foreboding, the sense of inevitability. On the contrary, alternatively you could just have a guy with a chainsaw or supernatural batdemon with wings (see Jeepers Creepers) chopping up American teenager. lazy lazy, lazy. Severance sadly, is somewhere between the two.
Its in the numerous and tedious typical hAunted house / isolated people in a cabin miles from anywhere being offed one by one sub-genre. its a cliched, predictable, setup. Rather predictably, The characters are written only as much as they need to be in order to serve the story, and a little more than predictable, sketched archetypes. The characters are also killed off in order of three criteria.
Firstly, the most interesting characters have to survive, so the boring ones get killed first. (therefore, the London wideboy street thug is best equipped to survive, whereas the bookish housewife is guaranteed to die unpleasantly...)
Secondly, the characters die according to the demographic. Horror movies like Severance aren't targeted atkind of office
middle managers who go to see Dire Straits - nor are they targeted at the housewife who reads romantic novels, nor are they targeted at the camp office IT bloke who is screeamingly obviously gay. they are targeted at 18-25 wideboys and widegirls looking for a fun night out. Therefore, the demographic people must survive.
Thirdly, look at the poster. The two names above the poster inevitably survive, because they are also the biggest on the movie poster too. very predictable. (The fact that one of them spends a good portion of the film with a t-shirt on saying 'Lucky'is incredibly lazy; It could only be lazier if they have numbers on their shirts in order of being killed).
Its therefore, little surprise who loves and who dies. It is also little surprise thats its half an hour of set up before the killing begins. get lost, find the cabin, settle in and then wait for the scares to begin.
There's very little to recomend in this movie. Toby Stephens (Die Another Day) has a good death scene, but obviosuly Foreshadowed. Andy Nyman (playing the said camp IT guy) has another rather unpleasant death scene. The obviously shoehorned political suubtext (they work for an arms company, so its all an act of calculated revenge against them in a karmic sense) falls flat and is couldn't be signposted more obviously if it was emblazened in neon. the ending borders on torture horror (see Saw, hostel etc.) when still alive victims are offed one by one by a faceless, incomprehensible string of baddies.
Severance is also mis-sold on the wrong premise - that the reason why they are there is as a calculated move by the company to get rid of staff. WRONG WRONG WRONG. (or is it? its hinted at in a brief 20 second scene where they find some office files. hmmm. Nothing wrong with that as an idea - but throwing it away and never referring to it again isn't so much ambigious as frustrasting at the lack of resolution.)
And the end? Again, the end hinges on the reveal of how bad big bad arms companies are. We all know that already, but its clumsily handled courtesy of *CLANG* the company they work for sometimes sells arms to bad people *CLANG* who might have done some bad things in the past *CLANG* etc. etc. etc.
And by the way, there's a whole two minute scene where someone tries to get help only to be nixed by the fact that no one speaks English, in a foreign country. On the phone. Nothing's scarier than foreign hold music, I've learned that. But you see - if any of these characters had an ounce of common sense, they'd understand that "+44" is the Uk international dialling prefix (as they would have seen on any vast number of their own company documents), and thus, hurrah! they could have called the cavalry. Instead, the cavalry appears out of the blue, in the form of machine-gun toting hungarian hookers in bra's.
No, I'm not making this up. At the end, they have a machine gun that clicked empty just five minute earlier magically re-fill itself out of the blue - apropro's of nothing - in a deus ex machina that is positively insulting.
Some good bits, some bad bits. mostly bad. The bad is Danny Dyer.An idiot disguised as a chav being shown up to be our hero who is nothing more than an illeducated, pillpopping, wideboy thug. And I can't relate to that at all.
After that, was Lilo and Stitch. That was far far better. I really must write about Seraphim Falls, because I recommended it, and the person i reccommended it too has beaten me to a review. Damn it.
Still no news. Awaiting. might be a false alarm.
Severance we watched because, well - a DVD you can stick back on anytime, should anything happen. At the moment I live my life so that there's nothing I can't walk away from at 30 seconds notice. We were supposed to be originally going to a movie this weds, but there's bigger fish.
However, Severance is a tired, cliched, boring and nasty little horror movies. I hate nothing more than filsm which mistake gore and guts and splatter for horror. Its not. Horror is when your mind fills with a vague sense of unease and dread - the foreboding, the sense of inevitability. On the contrary, alternatively you could just have a guy with a chainsaw or supernatural batdemon with wings (see Jeepers Creepers) chopping up American teenager. lazy lazy, lazy. Severance sadly, is somewhere between the two.
Its in the numerous and tedious typical hAunted house / isolated people in a cabin miles from anywhere being offed one by one sub-genre. its a cliched, predictable, setup. Rather predictably, The characters are written only as much as they need to be in order to serve the story, and a little more than predictable, sketched archetypes. The characters are also killed off in order of three criteria.
Firstly, the most interesting characters have to survive, so the boring ones get killed first. (therefore, the London wideboy street thug is best equipped to survive, whereas the bookish housewife is guaranteed to die unpleasantly...)
Secondly, the characters die according to the demographic. Horror movies like Severance aren't targeted atkind of office
middle managers who go to see Dire Straits - nor are they targeted at the housewife who reads romantic novels, nor are they targeted at the camp office IT bloke who is screeamingly obviously gay. they are targeted at 18-25 wideboys and widegirls looking for a fun night out. Therefore, the demographic people must survive.
Thirdly, look at the poster. The two names above the poster inevitably survive, because they are also the biggest on the movie poster too. very predictable. (The fact that one of them spends a good portion of the film with a t-shirt on saying 'Lucky'is incredibly lazy; It could only be lazier if they have numbers on their shirts in order of being killed).
Its therefore, little surprise who loves and who dies. It is also little surprise thats its half an hour of set up before the killing begins. get lost, find the cabin, settle in and then wait for the scares to begin.
There's very little to recomend in this movie. Toby Stephens (Die Another Day) has a good death scene, but obviosuly Foreshadowed. Andy Nyman (playing the said camp IT guy) has another rather unpleasant death scene. The obviously shoehorned political suubtext (they work for an arms company, so its all an act of calculated revenge against them in a karmic sense) falls flat and is couldn't be signposted more obviously if it was emblazened in neon. the ending borders on torture horror (see Saw, hostel etc.) when still alive victims are offed one by one by a faceless, incomprehensible string of baddies.
Severance is also mis-sold on the wrong premise - that the reason why they are there is as a calculated move by the company to get rid of staff. WRONG WRONG WRONG. (or is it? its hinted at in a brief 20 second scene where they find some office files. hmmm. Nothing wrong with that as an idea - but throwing it away and never referring to it again isn't so much ambigious as frustrasting at the lack of resolution.)
And the end? Again, the end hinges on the reveal of how bad big bad arms companies are. We all know that already, but its clumsily handled courtesy of *CLANG* the company they work for sometimes sells arms to bad people *CLANG* who might have done some bad things in the past *CLANG* etc. etc. etc.
And by the way, there's a whole two minute scene where someone tries to get help only to be nixed by the fact that no one speaks English, in a foreign country. On the phone. Nothing's scarier than foreign hold music, I've learned that. But you see - if any of these characters had an ounce of common sense, they'd understand that "+44" is the Uk international dialling prefix (as they would have seen on any vast number of their own company documents), and thus, hurrah! they could have called the cavalry. Instead, the cavalry appears out of the blue, in the form of machine-gun toting hungarian hookers in bra's.
No, I'm not making this up. At the end, they have a machine gun that clicked empty just five minute earlier magically re-fill itself out of the blue - apropro's of nothing - in a deus ex machina that is positively insulting.
Some good bits, some bad bits. mostly bad. The bad is Danny Dyer.An idiot disguised as a chav being shown up to be our hero who is nothing more than an illeducated, pillpopping, wideboy thug. And I can't relate to that at all.
After that, was Lilo and Stitch. That was far far better. I really must write about Seraphim Falls, because I recommended it, and the person i reccommended it too has beaten me to a review. Damn it.
Still no news. Awaiting. might be a false alarm.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
I'm in a meeting at work when the phone beeps. No one ever beeps me at this time of the morning - its damn unusual, but i check my phone anyway.
"My waters are just leaking", it says. Oh my god, i think.
My mind fills with a million things, all at once. "I've got three weeks" I think - the baby isn't due until 25th or so, but no, it wants to come out now, it seems. All I've got is but a few hours.
And we still don't know if its a boy or girl.
I've been here before. In a different house, at a different time, when the text message didn't turn up until an hour and a half after our beautiful daughter was born. Now its happening again, and i feel exac tly the same. nervous. Anxious. Worried. Scared. Unable to concentrate - my mind focusing on one thing and one thing only.
Last night, I was at home just before the girl I'm seeing (here after referred to as the girl; and When because me and girl have only been together a couple of months, the baby is with Rebecca's mother, who I'm not with anymore, who I shall refer to as RM - Rebecca's mother) .
Anyway, the girl came over to pick me up. I looked down at the camera and knew, just knew, I had to pick it up. But my mental logical processes kicked in - why would I need the camera? So I left it behind. Sometimes, maybe you should trust your instinct. Maybe you should. But my logical, rational mind overruled that. I just knew I had to pick up the cameraAnd I listened to the logical, rational mind. It is still at home.
That feeling of waiting so long.. and then there's no time at all, that everything needs to be done right now...right now.... and you can prepare yourself all you like, and you have never done enough. All you can do is wait, but you're excited, nervous, anxious, and can't concentrate on anything. Does anyone else know what I mean?
I'm at work. I'm waiting for the news. One beep. Any second now.
"My waters are just leaking", it says. Oh my god, i think.
My mind fills with a million things, all at once. "I've got three weeks" I think - the baby isn't due until 25th or so, but no, it wants to come out now, it seems. All I've got is but a few hours.
And we still don't know if its a boy or girl.
I've been here before. In a different house, at a different time, when the text message didn't turn up until an hour and a half after our beautiful daughter was born. Now its happening again, and i feel exac tly the same. nervous. Anxious. Worried. Scared. Unable to concentrate - my mind focusing on one thing and one thing only.
Last night, I was at home just before the girl I'm seeing (here after referred to as the girl; and When because me and girl have only been together a couple of months, the baby is with Rebecca's mother, who I'm not with anymore, who I shall refer to as RM - Rebecca's mother) .
Anyway, the girl came over to pick me up. I looked down at the camera and knew, just knew, I had to pick it up. But my mental logical processes kicked in - why would I need the camera? So I left it behind. Sometimes, maybe you should trust your instinct. Maybe you should. But my logical, rational mind overruled that. I just knew I had to pick up the cameraAnd I listened to the logical, rational mind. It is still at home.
That feeling of waiting so long.. and then there's no time at all, that everything needs to be done right now...right now.... and you can prepare yourself all you like, and you have never done enough. All you can do is wait, but you're excited, nervous, anxious, and can't concentrate on anything. Does anyone else know what I mean?
I'm at work. I'm waiting for the news. One beep. Any second now.
While I sit tied to the phone like an expectant father.....
I spoke about something here . A new baby, due at the end of the september.
The waters have started leaking this morning. Its gonna say hello early...
I'm so nervous and excited, its untrue.
p.S. the picture is a marillion lyric...
I spoke about something here . A new baby, due at the end of the september.
The waters have started leaking this morning. Its gonna say hello early...
I'm so nervous and excited, its untrue.
p.S. the picture is a marillion lyric...
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Rooms full Of Strangers, Some call me friend....
I had written quite a long, erudite, and perceptive piece about the Wicker Man last night - mostly in response to what Mr. Pynchon said on his blog. Believe it or not, I don't take to people very easily, and find it a little strange sometimes to interact with people. I'd rather sit in my pyramid of misery counting my illgotten gains, going 'mwah!mwah!mwah!' like John Malkovich. I've even got the Cyrus the Virus look down at the moment. So when Pynchon describes me as his friend, it means a lot to me. Because even though I do seem to know an awful lot of people, not many I call friends.
The computer ate it. This computer doesn't like doing things like that. I had even opened it up in notepad to make sure I used less memory space. So what did it do? Crash another program that was running.. Bloody windows...its useless. Because even though I have only ONE program running, Only ONE program I opened, its running twenty-three processes. Which means that there's a good twenty one programs running which it starts automatically that i didn't tell it to open.
And people wonder why Windows is so unreliable eh?
Just at the time that the notepad program crashed out, I checked how much memory useage there was - and 99% of the system resources were free. Why is it then that it crashed the only thing I was working on? the ONE thing i wanted to keep, the ONE thing I had opened myself to work on? its goddamn ridiculous. Couldn't it have used maybe some of the 99% of the memory and the system capacity it wasn't using? no, it kept it idle. Goddman useless.
So instead of the post on the Wickerman, you'll be reading about how much I think Windows is a pile of poo. (In quick precis, it comes to this: recent American recent horror movies seem to smother the screen and splatter it with goo - usually blood red corn syrup. What makes something scary is the mind - and the Wickemran is all about the power of suggestion and the logical unfolding of a story with horrifying implications. . the recent remake is a valid, and interesting re-interpretation - but utterly dreadful)
No, the most interesting thing about what Pnchon wrote was that he called me friend. I don't take to people easily, and for Mr. Pynchon to call me a friend means a lot to me. Hell of a lot. H's someone I'm glad to call friend too. Because I am quite socially isolated a lot of the time, and I like my own company. Hermit, i call myself sometimes....
last night anyway. Worked over a little. Blogged. Surfed. Went into town on a whim. The metro had advertised Season 3 of Battlestar Galactica at £13.95 so I went to HMV to disacover it was £39.95. Cockpiss false advertising. instead, I went to a secondhand shop and bought some really cheap DVD's. Such as fantastic 4, Severance, Enemy mine, Fast and Furious:Tokyo Drift, the Covenant, and so forth, for £1 each. I've found a cheap supplier you see, secondhand clag. I do love my movies, you know here I am, having paid out some £500 just now just to stay afloat - Rent, Water Rates, Council tax, Electric/gas, money for Rebecca, and so forth.. I really do.
I look at my finances, and I wonder how anyone can survive. My job isn't that badly paid - well above minimum wage - and I live in subsidised council housing, yet every month I just about scrape by. Just about. With barely a few quid to spare. its ludicrous, It really is. And where I work for...I'm proud of what we do, but I'm not proud by the way the system I work within in set up. However, for everything I disagree with, like a lot of jobs - its nothing anyone can do to change it. All just cogs in a bigger machine. A huge machine. A machine driven by so many factors....
I had written quite a long, erudite, and perceptive piece about the Wicker Man last night - mostly in response to what Mr. Pynchon said on his blog. Believe it or not, I don't take to people very easily, and find it a little strange sometimes to interact with people. I'd rather sit in my pyramid of misery counting my illgotten gains, going 'mwah!mwah!mwah!' like John Malkovich. I've even got the Cyrus the Virus look down at the moment. So when Pynchon describes me as his friend, it means a lot to me. Because even though I do seem to know an awful lot of people, not many I call friends.
The computer ate it. This computer doesn't like doing things like that. I had even opened it up in notepad to make sure I used less memory space. So what did it do? Crash another program that was running.. Bloody windows...its useless. Because even though I have only ONE program running, Only ONE program I opened, its running twenty-three processes. Which means that there's a good twenty one programs running which it starts automatically that i didn't tell it to open.
And people wonder why Windows is so unreliable eh?
Just at the time that the notepad program crashed out, I checked how much memory useage there was - and 99% of the system resources were free. Why is it then that it crashed the only thing I was working on? the ONE thing i wanted to keep, the ONE thing I had opened myself to work on? its goddamn ridiculous. Couldn't it have used maybe some of the 99% of the memory and the system capacity it wasn't using? no, it kept it idle. Goddman useless.
So instead of the post on the Wickerman, you'll be reading about how much I think Windows is a pile of poo. (In quick precis, it comes to this: recent American recent horror movies seem to smother the screen and splatter it with goo - usually blood red corn syrup. What makes something scary is the mind - and the Wickemran is all about the power of suggestion and the logical unfolding of a story with horrifying implications. . the recent remake is a valid, and interesting re-interpretation - but utterly dreadful)
No, the most interesting thing about what Pnchon wrote was that he called me friend. I don't take to people easily, and for Mr. Pynchon to call me a friend means a lot to me. Hell of a lot. H's someone I'm glad to call friend too. Because I am quite socially isolated a lot of the time, and I like my own company. Hermit, i call myself sometimes....
last night anyway. Worked over a little. Blogged. Surfed. Went into town on a whim. The metro had advertised Season 3 of Battlestar Galactica at £13.95 so I went to HMV to disacover it was £39.95. Cockpiss false advertising. instead, I went to a secondhand shop and bought some really cheap DVD's. Such as fantastic 4, Severance, Enemy mine, Fast and Furious:Tokyo Drift, the Covenant, and so forth, for £1 each. I've found a cheap supplier you see, secondhand clag. I do love my movies, you know here I am, having paid out some £500 just now just to stay afloat - Rent, Water Rates, Council tax, Electric/gas, money for Rebecca, and so forth.. I really do.
I look at my finances, and I wonder how anyone can survive. My job isn't that badly paid - well above minimum wage - and I live in subsidised council housing, yet every month I just about scrape by. Just about. With barely a few quid to spare. its ludicrous, It really is. And where I work for...I'm proud of what we do, but I'm not proud by the way the system I work within in set up. However, for everything I disagree with, like a lot of jobs - its nothing anyone can do to change it. All just cogs in a bigger machine. A huge machine. A machine driven by so many factors....
[One] Have you ever been asked out?
Erm... yes. My very first girlfriend asked me out.
[Two] Where was your default picture taken?
nowhere. its an avatar, gif thing.
[Three] What's your middle name?
ain't telling you... I hate it.
[Four] Your current relationship status?
I have one. It could be doing better, mind you.
[Five] Does your crush like you back?
I have a crush?
[Six] What is your current mood?
Angry. Stressed. I just said last week It was goign to be a rubbish month, and I wasn't wrong. only 3 days old, and its turned to crap....
[Seven] What's your dad's middle name?
What is this? The sort of questionnaire designed to get around your standard security questions for telephone banking? Screw that.
[Eight] What colour shirt are you wearing?
Cornflower Blue.
[Nine] If you could go back in time and change something, would you?
yes. But then I wouldn't be the person I am today.
[Ten] Ever had a near death experience?
I once had a near life experience. Or, if we're taken Out of body experiences, yes, I had one once. Scared the hell outta me, I tell ya.
[Eleven] Something you do a lot?
breathe. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.
[Twelve] Who did you copy and paste this from?
One of my myspaz friends.(Hello Nic!)
[Thirteen] Name someone with the same birthday as you?
I have this secret,evil, twin.
[Fourteen] When was the last time you cried?
Thursday night. Row with my girl.
[Fifteen] If you could have one super power what would it be?
The ability to ask for inifite superpowers.
[Sixteen] What's the first thing you notice about the opposite/same sex?
The way they dress. big blingin' chains are a bit of a no no....
[Seventeen] What do you usually order from starbucks?
I never order anythign from starbucks. I never go to starbucks. that cup of coffee costs probably 1 or 2p to produce - why should I pay £1.30 for something fancy? Do I want a megafrappucino? of course not. If i want a cup of coffee, I want a cup of coffee - neat and unfucked with. And whats the point in ordering a drink because you are thirsty and then waiting 20 minutes for it to cool down to the point whereby you don't scald your mouth? its just a cup of flavoured, boiling water. Sod that. (the secret is, that the majority of the energy you receive from a cup of coffee is kinetic energy caused by its heat.)
[Eighteen] What's your biggest secret?
Some secrets you never never can tell. So I can't tell anyone. Tell anyone, and its somethign that can be used against you. Tell No-one, and you are safe. And that is best.
[Nineteen] Favourite colour?
Black. Why? it's every colour, all rolled into one. Brilliant!
[Twenty] Do you still watch kiddy movies or tv shows?
Of course. Lilo And Stitch, Toy Story, anything by Pixar. in fact, if Pixar were to do a war movie, that would seriously kick ass. 'A Soldiers life', anyone?
[Twenty-one] What are you eating or drinking at the moment?
had a chicken and bacon pasta meal earlier.
[Twenty-two] Do you speak any other language?
Fluent governmentese. Its a side effect of working in a civil service role. Ask em about 100's, 504's, and DMA's - and no one else will understand what I'm going on about except me and the other staff.
[Twenty-three] What's your favourite smell?
I love the smell of....bacon in the morning. Freshly cooked bacon.
[Twenty-four] If you Could Describe your life in one word, What Would It Be?
just the one? i couldn't choose just the one.
[Twenty-five] Have you ever kissed in the rain?
Yes, but It was sort of ...wet.
[Twenty-six] What are you thinking about right now?
That guy playing air guitar that gets a crowd reaction shot all to himself on the Motley Crue DVD. You never, ever, see stuff like that on live DVDs, and it really did make me smile.
[Twenty-seven] What should you be doing?
Right now, I should be speaking to someone. but they haven't turned up.
[Twenty-eight] Who was the last person that made you upset/angry?
That damn idiot on the bus who thought they could get away with paying childfare when they were obviously not a child. They were on their way to sign on, and wanted childrens rate. under 15's don't get to sign on you know. Even a bus driver knows that. So don't treat like he's as stupid as you look, sonny.
[Twenty-nine] Do you like working in the yard?
No. hate it.
[Thirty] If you could have any last name in the world, what would it be?
Well, I've always fancied a stage name. I think my stage name would be my first name, just for the sake of anonymity. that way I can still sign into hotels under my own name. Or possibly a pseudonym. Hugh Jarse, maybe?
[Thirty-one] Do you act differently around the person you like?
Well, I let my soft side show to them. Around everyone else, I'm notoriously inflexible, rigid and non-negotiable. In other words,
[Thirty-two] What is your natural hair colour?
brownish - When I have some. But I prefer the billiard ball bald look at the moment - I much prefer it. Makes me look like a total hardnut, too. *BIFF BANG POW*
[Thirty-three] Who was the last person to make you cry?
Was not to blame.
A Survey...Because I'm Bored and At Work...
Body:
1.. What is the status of you and the last person you kissed?
Well, she and I are still together, right now. It's a bit fractious, but who knows? It was over a few days ok, it seems sorted, who knows?
2. What's bothering you right now?
Incompotent staff elsewhere in my business being rude, arrogant and nasty to people with no real understanding of the consequences of what they say.
3. Will you kiss the last person you kissed again?
Maybe...
4. What is in your wallet?
The money to pay the electric and gas bills for the month.
5. Wallpaper on your computer's desktop?
At home- A picture of a casino from grand Theft Auto. Prior to that, ti had been the back cover of Kiss's "Alive III" record.
6. Background on your cell phone?
Ha! I have an old cell phone, with no background.
7. Do you ever feel like you try really hard and nothing comes from it?
All day, everyday.
8. What do you want in your life right now?
mmmm, ice cream...nice cream!
9. Listening to?
I always find that listenign to Slayer just before entering the office is a really good idea...
10. Have you ever kissed anyone named Patty?
nO, I have never met the Mr Simpson's sister in law.
11. What do you smell like?
*sniffs8 - Soviet, the perfume of communism. Equality. Solidarity. Olefactory.
12. Eating/chewing?
Swallow.
13. What's your favorite thing to have on your bed??
me.
14. Do you believe in a soul mate?
Yes, but I believe they are a long way from me right now.
15. What do you wear to bed?
Myself, and a smile.
16. Do you remember your dreams?
Sometimes. Most of them are pretty rubbish.
17. Who will you sleep with tomorrow?
Myself, alone.
18. Have you ever been gambling?
never. Whatever you gamble my friend, you will eventually lose.
19. What's something you wish you could understand better?
people. And the forces that control my life...
20. What did you do over the weekend?
Some tidying up, and stuff like that.
21. Who do you miss?
I miss Rebecca, my beautiful daughter.
22. Who is the last girl you hugged?
Nic. Bumped into her at lunchtime, and hugs and stuff.
23. Orange or apple juice?
orange.Apples come from the evil Lord Summerisle!
24. Who was the last person you went somewhere with?
Mark, to the bus stop.
25. What was the last text message you got?
"Home Bloody Home!" From Giles.
26. Have you kissed someone on your top friends?
Ah, this is myspace I presume? Of course! I have kissed my brother on the cheek of congratulations, when he married ellen.
27. Next time you will have sex??
Ha! What am I - the nymphomanic version of the one eyed beast from krull?
28. What was the last thing you drank?
Sainsbury's Blue bolt.
29. Whose house did you go to last night?
I went to my own.
30. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital?
A long time ago - and quite upsetting too.
31. Do you like someone right now?
I like everyone. I'm the peoples friend.
32. Are you bored?
Sometimes. *snooze*
33. What is the last movie you watched? with who?
I watched was...Seraphim Falls, with girl and giles.
34. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink:
Energy substitute drinks, coke and fanta orange.
35. What are you excited about?
Actually, lots of things.
36. Do you want someone you can't have?
Don't we all? they don't even know who they are though...
37. Who was last to slap your butt?
girl.
38. Where was the last place you went?
Work. I'm still there now. Or Tesco's
39. What's on your mind right now?
Moby Dick by led Zeppelin. Aaargh!
40. Have you cried recently?
yes, Thursday.
41. If an unstoppable force comes across an unmovable object, then what happens?
They have an argument...
42. Is taking a shower a daily habit?
No. i bathe!
Monday, September 03, 2007
Saturday - not very exciting. I felt like going out, but I didn't. I stayed in. i did meet Nic in town for a quick pint after work (her work, not mine), and did some shopping. Nothing too exciting. Usual cheap clag - a Dire Straits CD for 50p, that sorta thang. Some Philip K Dick books, cheap. And so forth. And then, to Big Johns.
Ah, Big Johns. The MacDonalds of Birmingham, but ..erm... good. The nearest one to town is Highgate, where I used to live. It used to be a pub - and a bloody rough pub at that. I remember seeing one person chasing someone else out of that pub with a knife, whilst the other tried to defend himself with a chair. Now it is a Big Johns, and I'm greatly impressed. Firstly, its not that pub. Secondly, I was bloody hungry. So one triple decker later (thats three quarter pounders, in a bun) I felt a little bit fuller. But not much. However, the round trip there and back did take me about an hour or so, but you know what? it was a L'Oreal Of a Burger. it was worth it. Then I got the bus home.I got home and bummed around. i rowed with the girl again. I'm away next weekend, in London, seeing a friend of mine. its still up in the air, not sure whats going on. But next weekend, She and I didn't have any plans, and so I thought I might pop
away. Next thing you know, I'm being asked to change those plans to see her. Well...its a tricky situation. As far as I am concerned, whoever asks first takes priority, and someone else did - and as I wasn't booked, I was available.
I had wanted to go out, but changed my mind. Stayed in. Made Cds. Two of Living Color - a band who made a fantastic debut with 'Vivid' - and a shithot tight as hell live band too, as evidenced on the 'Live in minneapolis' bootleg available here.
One of them was a collection of live B-Sides, and the other a compilation of studio rarities and B-Sides (totalling 70 minutes). The Killers at Glastonbury, the Who at Glastonbury (had to strip off one track from each to fit it onto a single cd). Also burned a double CD of the Motley Crue 'Carnival of Sins' Live in 2005 DVD soundtrack. Which is the entire of the double live album, with pictures - so the strip out the soundtrack means you have the album, so I have - and I've paid the
artist for their work too.
Sunday, I was woken up early by the girl. She came over upset, and things are better now. Did some tidying up. Waited for mark. Nothing else to report. Monday was frantic - Work, going to the bank, paying the bills (rent, water, council tax) and so forth....lots of BUSY BUSY BUSY stuff to do.
Life. its not what I thought it was...
Some linkees...
i) The Bill. It didn't start as you think it did - The Bill. It started as a one off sub episode of a drama series . its a not very commonly known subject known as a Back door pilots
ii) Why Sci-fi still has a future say the Guardian
iii) Joy Division. Control. And is the reason for the recent new Order split hidden between the lines here...?
iv) The Battletstar Galactica remake gets a wikipedia makeover
v) Seraph . the esoterica of religion...
vi) The Legend Of the Beach Boys Smile Album . Now re-compiled as a itunes playlist.
vii) Fascinating little bit on clear channel here - Did you know that the reason why Live Nation and stuff didn't do anything for two years was because Clear Channel registered the patents for seperating tracks out digitally? Spiteful little buggers.
viii) Rob Zombie's halloween Sounds dreadful
ix) U2's Elevation DVD get reviewed here
x)nothing to see. move along.
xi)Seraphim Falls according to empire magazine n and Seraphim Falls according to Wikipedia. And an interview with director David von Acken here variety reviews it here
xiv) Interesting developments in the DVD hi-Def format wars And more here .
xv) What is typosquatting?
xvi) Blogger and the spambots . A good reason to screen comments, this is
xvii) You Tube gets sued
xviii) You're 15, and looking for action. Say you're 18 and you've done nothing wrong. But if you invite someone else to hookup with you and they take what you've written as true....taken on trust - your lying gets them into court, and prison. If you lie and lead someone else on with deception...they shouldn't go to prison because you're the one whose done them wrong. But courts beg to differ.
xvix) google and internet censorship - with the cultural excising of the entire of nazi germany from germans themselves
xx)its a story of 100 dollar bills, a laser printer, and a lapdance is always better when someone else is buiying
xxi) An interview with Godfrey Reggio, maker of the Qatsi trilogy
xxii) the work-in-progress sequel to Baraka
xxiii) A website dedicated to Baraka, Koyannisqatsi, and similar films . A page on Koyaaniqatsi can be found here
xxiv) The disastrous segreted housing scheme of Pruitt-igoe , and a picture of its demolition twenty years into its life is here
xxv)The page on naqoyqatsi here
xxvi) A review of Motley Crue's Carnival Of Sins DVD . That site , www.dvdmg.com, looks like it could have a lot of good reviews on it.
XXVIII) a damn fine analysis of what went wrong in the remake of Halloween - and pretty much all remakes, come to think of it.
xxviii) And a scathing review of the excreable Ultraviolet to wrap things up
xxix) The Vultures flying around EMI... as venture opportunity descends...
XXX) Pantera reunite....in court
XXxI) THE Zeppelin fly again. It's been a long time since they rock n' rolled...
xxxii) A girl named megane
xxxiii) The growth of surveillance.... 1 million cameras per person...
xxxiv) facebook cripples HSBC
xxxv) HOVERCAR, anyone?
xxxvi) Blogging history ?
xxxvii) 747 flying laser raygun of doom! melt, you damn dirty russkies...
xxxviii) Silly names
xxxix) the future of Nokia
XXXX) THE ZEPPELIN MOTHERSHIP IS FLYING with a new double CD dcompilation and a (at long bloody last) remastered and EXPANDED version of 'The Song Remains The Same' live album now with six bonus tracks...—“Black Dog,” “Over The Hills And Far Away,” “Misty Mountain Hop,”“Since I’ve Been Loving You,” “The Ocean,” and “Heartbreaker". At least four of these have been on DVD before though...but the reissue DVD will include the new soundtrack and some 40 minutes of bonus material. on top of that, the new best of will include a 90 minute live DVD too (all previously available on the Led Zeppelin double disc set from 2003, which is an astounding document..) So, whole lotta led.. Tracklisting here . and here I wish they would stick out Cds of the double DVD instead though, its stunningly good material...
XXXXI) the song remains the same and How The West Was Won
xxxxii) Plans are afoot for birmingham - soon there will be a massive blowdown of council housing. The highgate blocks (such as elmstead where I used to live) will be destroyed, with a plannign application for demolition registered oN April 27th, 2007. A little bit of jiggery and pokery has found however, some pictures of the reconstruction of the city centre as it is planned....with these two photos of the architectural model. here and here . And look atthis for proposed building heights, shall we? here
xxxxiii) Mind you, look at what they are planning on rebuilding Liverpool with... here , and here and here . Liverpool- the Dubai of the North, I don't think. huh?
xxxxov)And those of you nostalgic for the past... Heres some pictures of old birmingham . Like 10 years ago.
More another day, sweet hunnybunnies. x
Saturday, September 01, 2007
What a wierd evening...
After that, I was - I must admit, quite shaken.Quite indeed shaken. Your body gears up for fight or flight, and that level of adrenaline takes it time to dissapate back to normal. I was supposed to be goign to a friend birthday drinks. I didn't make it. Sorry, friend. I texted you. I hope it got there.
We pile into the taxi to somewhere else.The woman who helped me clean the blood off joking says they kidnapped me. She flirts, badly and blatantly. My workmate asks me where the girl is - I explain the huge row the night before and the uncertainty it hangs over us. The woman, She continues to flirt; apparently, I'm too young for her at 34, and she only goes for men of 45+. Given that this woman is slim, 22, and blonde and flirting very baldly with me, I am amazed that someone like her would be interested. I go to leave, she says "See you again" and kisses me on the cheek as I leave. I can't remember the last time someone did that to me, such a complete stranger. Probably was nothing.
I come home, still shaking from earlier. Its been a bloody wierd night, it really has.
P.s. Mark, check here for the ultimate bootleg experience
After that, I was - I must admit, quite shaken.Quite indeed shaken. Your body gears up for fight or flight, and that level of adrenaline takes it time to dissapate back to normal. I was supposed to be goign to a friend birthday drinks. I didn't make it. Sorry, friend. I texted you. I hope it got there.
We pile into the taxi to somewhere else.The woman who helped me clean the blood off joking says they kidnapped me. She flirts, badly and blatantly. My workmate asks me where the girl is - I explain the huge row the night before and the uncertainty it hangs over us. The woman, She continues to flirt; apparently, I'm too young for her at 34, and she only goes for men of 45+. Given that this woman is slim, 22, and blonde and flirting very baldly with me, I am amazed that someone like her would be interested. I go to leave, she says "See you again" and kisses me on the cheek as I leave. I can't remember the last time someone did that to me, such a complete stranger. Probably was nothing.
I come home, still shaking from earlier. Its been a bloody wierd night, it really has.
P.s. Mark, check here for the ultimate bootleg experience
I look down and I've got someone else's blood on my hands. The red, sticky, liquid, smeared between the curls and loops of my fingerprints. I turn my hands over, and find a patch of blood on my palm, where I hadn't expected to find it.
All I had done is look down at a yellow t-shirt, streaked with red.A few seconds before, an explosion of violence. An angry man, squat with narrow and focused eyes, a glass bottle in his hand. Already there had been one man laying into another, just a couple of minutes before. Now that glass bottle lay in shards and fragments, pieces of glass cut into skin and blood splattered across the wooden tables and the concrete floor, like a monchromic Jackson Pollock. Like Crimson on grey.
And just to think, a few minutes earlier, we had wondered quite why the tables themselves were secured and bolted into the concrete floor. I begin to feel unclean.
The random act of violence of a Friday night. Someone had told us not to go to that pub - but I'd been many times, never seen any trouble. But it only takes one flashpoint. One wrong word. One wrong turn. A man with blood on his face, one person to trip over and not say sorry, one hand to reach up and address the situation, one slight against another, and one line is inexorably crossed - so much so that one goes after another.
The scuffle ended, but someone had just seen their father attacked. Phone calls are made, and then it explodes again. Instantly. Randomly. More people go in, and one falls to the floor. Patches of blood are on his shirt. He barely moves. Another - a man in a yellow shirt - continues to pound the near motionless, prone body. He gets up, stand over his prey, felled. I stand back, and just put my hand onto his blood soaked shirt, onto his sternum. He appears to have finished, but what I did was quite simple, as if to say, "no more". It may have been too little, too late - but it was all I could do without getting glassed myself. The man in the yellow shirt takes one step away, and I move my hand away. No more violence will be done, thank God. Not now.
In the distance, the doppler effect of a police siren grows louder. A riot van passes by, the lights bleeding turqouise blue into the darkening night sky. I remark that they will turn around and come back. Before they do, another three police cars arrive, and a multitude of police get out, stab vests worn and the people on my table - celebrating a workmate leaving for a different office - slowly disperse.
I look down, to see my hands covered in someone else's blood. A woman I've never spoken to before, a friend of a friend, opens her bag and gets out wet wipes. Wipe away the blood. Wipe it all away. But you can't wipe away what you've already seen.
Somewhere a few yards away, a woman yells out her boyfriends name. We leave. To get away from here. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. Anywhere.
Anywhere.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Oh well, since yesterday...
I stayed over a little at work, writing up the blog before the security alarms kicked in.I didn't really have too much time to do spellchecking and fixing broken tagging, so my apologies. It was either that or the police come (whoop whoop whoop) as i set the alarms off. I know I missed out vast portions of the weekend in my write up - having a picnic next to a tank whilst talking stitch burbled nonsense to himself, the walk to the pub with Giles where we discussed various unavoury and oddly amusing activitie, Xander giving me a big sloopy goodbye kiss - that sort of thing. But Xander did learn at least two words this week - the girl's name, and my name. (I am now known to him as 'Guam'
Anyway, its been a tremendously busy week. The amount of time I've spent at home has been minimal - I've worked out there's only been about 5 hours I've spent awake in my own home since this time last week. Tuesday was the Wicker man (no! the bees! THE BEES!) and a couple of pints with pynch. its Good to see that mr. Pynchon. And I'd forgotten justn quite how...strange...that film is; and simultaneously, quite how brilliant it is too.
Wednesday was work, and then off to see the girl. Followed by a film - Seraphim Falls. Now, there's a big difference between a film and a movie, and Seraphim Falls is a film. Seraphim Falls is a quirky, brutal, philosophical religious western about two men: one the hunted, the other the hunter - and the choices they make.Like Angel Heart meets The Unforgiven. It is also incredibly old fashioned, with realistic, brutal, unforgiving violence and not a single scene shot in a studio or a single pixel of CGI to be had. Very very very highly recommended (especially to you, mr. Pynchon, I think you would be impressed). Sadly the ending 15 minutes or so falls off the rails slightly, but it is still a hidden gem. Some reviewers have said that in 10 years time, people will think of it as highly as Shawshank - I can't see that, but it is a film that will be discovered by reviewers as a lost classic for years to come, I'm sure of it.(I'll try to write up a full review later).
By the way, I really do reccommend it very highly Mr. Pynchon.
Thursday was work. Thursday evening was bad - went to see the girl. It is.... in limbo. Maybe we aren't together. maybe we are. maybe we just need some space. it seems for now that we are not together at the moment. Seeds of doubt were planted in her mind by a third party, trying to split us up - looks like they suceeded, at least for now. Poison words and long memories appear to have come to the fore again. it may resolve itself, but there again, it may not....
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