I Loathe Technology MORE than normal

I am. Its true. I think that one of the main reasons behind the lack of regular updates on here is the whole pictures aspect of things. See, last week, I thought, I know. What would be cool is some sort of photo thing. Thats always good. Did it work? Did it fuck. I just gave up. I nearly did the same tonight. Is it too much to ask to show a picture a simple fucking JPEG from some twatting site? Is that too much to ask? Apparently, YES. So this whole thing can go and fuck itself with a very sharp stick.
So with the pain half exercised through words, I turn to some rather joyous news. The Unicorns, with their crazy music, have split. Sob! However, this happened in March-ish with me being all up to date about the world. And they have a new album under a new band name, Islands, out in January. All the rollercoaster ride of band fandom in about five minutes. I enjoyed that.
Also, I keep trying to make a website template. But again, as it isn't instant gratification, akin to that promised by most phone-tarts, I keep turning away from it screaming death and pestilence to it and its like. My scanner doesn't help muhc either. One picture every half hour, try and do more, it dies and I have to restart everything.
Curses.
What the hell is everyone listening to either at this very moment, or the last thing they heard. I want to know.

The Horse of Happenstance

Before going any futher, I need to mention the stange phenomena which occurs about ten feet behind me in the office (yes, I get to call it the office. No, its not the massing of thousands of haters wanting to stab me in the back). Its the fact that one man has forever left me with the ipression that the entire tech type computer nerdy team is made entirely of scousers. Its not, there is only one man who is from liverpool. But if he was any more of a man from Liverpool, he would succumbing to various well published and circulated stereotypes with which you are all familiar. He's just so loud, he seems to be the entire team ANyway, I digress. Well, I do that a lot.
The picture, if it has worked (if not, its a picture of a beetroot) is to pay homage to my failed food attempt last night. Having successfully boiled, skinned and prepped said veg of red, I followed a recipe for beet n pasta. It tasted bland. In fact, it went out the far side of bland and hit a new wall, that I like to call Bororand. Mightily tasteless. Pickled, this beast is fine, otherwise I recommend it not. Also, its inherent properties of colour are not really desirable. Much.
Ooh, the door went whump. This can only mean that my erstwhile co-habitor and long suffering girlfriend is back from her weekly sign language class. I shall greet her, possibly with tea, and go and hide the leftover rice from dinner which I want for my lunch tommorow. Yes, I know you read this S, but hey, its too late now. I regret NOTHING!
Rice is Nice.

I'm frying, look ma I'm Frying!

Yes. Oh yes. They gave me a job at Banner. I think its beent wo weeks, but the worrying thing about the job is it seems to sort of flow by which means no worrying or pressure or anything, sdo quite frankly its fine. Fine fine fine. Furthermore, hitherto and whatsoever, thats all I have to say about it. Its one of those kind of jobs which just sort of is, so i think I can cope with that for a while or so.
On other subjects, my birthday has passed, thank god, and I got japenese foodstuffs which I got taken out for, which was superb. Its sort of different to Chinese food. Significantly so. It doesn't arrive in the same way, and has different tastes. They aren't so hot on the msg, and sugar tends to be kept low in the shadows. I had a funny deep fried salmon curry, and pork dumpling things, and a sweet rice cake filled with bean curd for pudding. That was cool. Its like a little parcel made of stretchy chewy paste made from rice. I like. I like the versatility of rice, its a good thing.
What else? I bought the Dead 60's album, which is plesant but not bum droppingly brilliant. I have found great joy in Joe Strummer and his mescalaeroes, posthumous though it may be, and have been consuming much of him. I am also in the midst of Haibane Renmai, and Neon Genesis Evangelion which are combined fun from birthday spoils. The first brough to you by the man who made Serial Experiments Lain, which can only be plus. The second everyone should know, and if you don't its something that should be discovered independantly, because it makes it all the more awesome.
I need more t shirts. I think I only have four which I wear with any regularity.
Fwang.

Seeping in through the windows.

The moon is really bright tonight. Its really weird. I wandered into the kitchen in the dark. I always do this when I'm on my own, one light on in the room I'm mostly in and then everything else switched off. I did nearly kill myself on the shoes I left right at the bottom of the stairs but thats my own fault. I make no excuses. But I digress. A shadow. Of the windowsill plant from the MOON. That, I think, deserves a 1UP.
I really should write on this thing more. I never know if people check it. I bet no one can be arsed anymore, what with me never leaving anything to read. Its quite the viscous circle. Not runny, but thickening.
Well, generally, I got a job. Yes, yes I did. Its okay. It will give me money for my toil.
I need sandwiches for tommorrow. Which I have to make. Tch.

Bleurg

I would like to issue this written statement of apology for my sheer lack of new material to place in this box to put up on the interweb. The truth of the mater is, I am lazy. Although I may not look it, this infomation may shock and appaul you, I am in fact an incredibly lazy, badly motivated, sluggish layabout bastard whose only skill lies i his ability to do sod all with finesse. Today, for instance, I relaxed. I have not job, and on the list of stuff to do was to sign up with two agencies, call the council- to shift half an exercise bike, one monitor (too big) and one telly (keeps going pink, drove me up the wall once to often in the middle of doom when it all went less atmospheric) - and fillout about eight job applications. I managed two half finished apps and nothign else. NOTHING. Nada. In total I spent about thrity minutes at the keyboard. So just what the hell DID I do? I don't know. I really don't. I never at any point during the day felt like I hadn't got something to do, but I have achieved almost a sum total of nothing.
I wish I could market my skill, for I would be in the cash.
I still haven't done anything. Hopefully tomorrow will be more productive.

Bugger, quite frankly.

Sigh. Yes, after a quality stuff packed weekend visiting friends in the incredibly sunny and awesome place of Devon, I took my crappy digital camera to the computer, hooking it up hoping for some pictures capturing for prosperity images of my time spent over the bank holiday. Alas, twas not to be.
For the festering pustulate of a camera has somehow erased all the images from itself. Look at it, sitting there, smug little bastard. I'm not too aggreviated, but feel a little niged. not the best sensation in the world but I suppose I shall have to learn to cope with it.
In other, and related news, congratulations (in a slightly more permanent official kind of way) to Chris and Kate. Although I have already obviously offered my congrats, here is a picture of the bunny in celebration. It says that the bunny has attained the cabbage of true love. Now isn't that sweet?
(sounds of Dan being sick in the background)

Words from past adventures

This is for the benefit of only one person, who may be frequenting this blog. You know who you are. The fact is, that when I went to Kent with my erstwhile girlfriend of much note, her village of Sutton Valence had this natty graveyard sporting this particular gravestone. Here lies the first man to introduce round arm bowling into cricket. John Mills apparently. So there.

Its quite a good fact to have hanging around, so enjoy it. You have been told.

Is it me or...

OKay, first off, for your vague reference... the above (that should have appeared below). It plays all sorts of stuff. I know they exist, but this really threw me off the beaten track. Its basically an emulator jobbie, but a handheld. So it plays all sorts of games n stuff thatcha love, from days of yore. Connects to the computer, all sorts of stuff. Go http://www.gbax.com/new/gp32.html
if you fancy a look. BUT THE emulation doesn't stop there, oh no. FOr what else but amongst browsing the DS related things for news etc (i want one!) I found a site which offers all sorts of crazy things including: ( hang on, I just remembered, I have absolutely no idea how to make the pictures appear where I want them).
Look to the top there, that sonic picture? Thats running on a ds. A Nintendo Ds. Seems wrong. But, to be fair, who has won the console war? N. Sega soldier on, making rather cool games though.
What else? Oh yes. 1 \/\/4\+3d +0 s4 +-4+ i like typing in this crap. No I don't. Go away.Hey, it can be fun. Hmm, back to the erm, night, actually. I think I need to sleep soon.

And another thing...

Oh. Its all small. I pressed the big photo button. Why isn't it big? I can't read that tiny writing. Oh well. Make up your own captions. Send em in. On a postcard. Laced with strychnine. Begorrah.

Koopa Troopa

Right, well. By gorrah its been a while. This is due to the fact that I hate my job so much. Yes, I blame the lack of my words on the sucky crappy hatey job. Which I will quit at the end of september, job to move onto or not. Whatever, I will temp. I will temp my socks off and do rubbish part time whatever, because I cannot stand it there any longer. So fuck them. I hope I leave them short staffed and shafted.
Okay, rant down, Leeson. Calm all is. I write this, mid application forms and stuff, and I really am bad with the application forms. Anyway. This little thing up top I found on the floor. OI don't know where from, or whose it is. Only we two live here, so I can't imagine its a third person's dooberry. But I'll tell you what. It looks like one of those wee gas masks that Koopa Troopas wear. I keep hoping to find one, trolling along beside the skirting or somesuch. That would be really good. Imagine how good it would be. And sorry about the blank image uptop. I tried to get rid of it, but It frustrates me. It tests me. And I don't want to break anything. Anyway, I will continue onwards with life. I hate stuff. But hopefully it will get better.

Soon for the holiday

Ack, stinkin' pictures won't upload. ANyway, you can't be missing out on that much can you? The last one was a packet of dried peas. Anyhoo. Ahm a goin to Kent for a few days. Oh yes. My head hurts.
I can't write any more. I really can't. My arms hurt too.
Don't pity me. Apart from the face. Also, I need a new biscuit for standard dunki' time. The chocolate digestive is wearing thin for me. Answers on a postcard please.

Mmm, dried horseradish flavoured peas. You know it makes sense. Sorry for poor alignment, but I just had to give everybody the lowdown on these choice snacks for a new generation. They have much in common with the crazy green lentils in bombay mix, but these make your nostrils tingle. Main flavour sensation is definately horseradish, but slightly sweetened. You need to buy them. You need these in your life.
Word up to China World in Norwich, you purvey such delicacies.

I've Been Done by the Amazon

And In A Good Way.
It arrived most quickley and pleasantly, and here it is, my varied and happy collection of stuff from the a to the dot to the com.

The Jam, of Jaaaaaam fame, which I have had a hankering for for ages (which was the 'need to push total cost over free delivery threshold' purchase), Misty's Big Adventure of quirkey 'my mate knows someone in a band' fame, and the Unicorns, prompted by the recommends in Amazon. Once again, I get the overwhelming feeling that Amazon has done its job well, and I have many things which I didn't have to pay over the odds for at the nefarious Virgin. And once again, consumerism leaves me feeling euphoric for a small slice of time, and is sure to leave me soon with an empty feeling, depending on how good the Unicorns are.

Also, the Amazon cardboard thing fitted through the door. This is very good news. I hand't tested the size yet, and it has stood the ultimate Shut In's test. Mail Order Ahoy!

Working My Way Through

Quickley. Come hither. I'm sifting through the recent Drowned in SOund album reviews. Its good. A recap on what has appeared over the last couple of months that they saw as deserving review space. I found a review of an album I have ordered from Amazon which got recommended to me. The Unicorns. They're canadian, which seems to be a recipe for genius, but I skipped the review. I shall try and, for once, make my own mind up. Anyway, the main reason for my wibble is the Kaiser Chiefs. I realised yesterday that however much they have played the radio, and however often Sarah played the record, I only ever seemed to hear the damn singles. Which has soured me slightly, so I decided to listen to the whole thing, give it a whirl. It sounds like someone I know. Already. Damn! Some band from the nineties.Holy crap got it!!!!There is a single refrain in Na Na Na NA Naa in which the singer sounds exactly like a three second segment from turning blue by ocean colour scene on their debut album. So in fact they sound nothing like. Its just that bit. But anyway.

I'm up to track five now. I'm still not blown away.

Just Eats Up Space

I bet this fills the screen like a good 'un. Can you read the text? Ah who cares? I like the ability to wack this sort of thing up every so often. And it did look horrible at every stage of drawing until it actually ends up on here and I don't fink it look too bad.
In other news... Erm. Imade some Thai Crispy noodles wi' chicken. Except without the Thai crispy noodles. But I did make the sauce like therecipe showed me and I even got a chance to use the sesame seed oil which Tom and Faye (Tom, was it you oil? I don't want to attribute a particular condiment to you as a group purchase when clearly one or the other of your collective was responsible for the buying) let me steal from their cuboards. And, it were right good. Really good. I almost impressed myself. Almost.
Coffee? Yes please. Mudpie at the moment from the quality as always tea Junction. Up The Junction, Norwich Mall's premier purveyor of caffinated and non caffinated products. Its brown and full of goodness.
Music? Seafood please, and heavily.

Check out the, erm...Barometer on that.

Oh yeah. You said, amongst yourselves, no it can't be done. I'm to incompetent for that. But then, out of the blue, Blogger start allowing the uploading of pictures to the blog. YEs! Much scan fun ahoy!
Spreading the word of the world of atmosphere pressure measuring guages (yes, I spelt it correctly, but only in the world of Appleseed. Otherwise...sod off) can be fun, but now... I have to go to work. Uuuurg. You can tell its monday, its sunny. Groan.
But seriously, this girl is terrified. Something wrong with her face or something. She doesn't really like barometers, you know. She's more of a drowsimeter girl. Possibly.

The Countdown Is Finally Over

Another long established cozy pair of slippers leaves this mortal plain for another leg on the great journey of existence. You will already know, Richard Whitely has left the building for the last time. I won't decend into the gush, for he was a man who made bad jokes and bantered with Vordermann. He had bad ties and was just some happy guy who carried on as he did.
Word up Richard. One from the top row.

In other news, I got this off the site of the ever awesome Warren Ellis. I like it. There are others which may be better, but this sums something up for me.

It also puts something other than text in the way.

Also, good to see many friends on the weekend, it makes me plus good also extra. Barometers are the new thing. Well, not new, but they are apparently good enough to deserve their own world. In Devon.

All The Meats

Well, okay maybe not all. In fact, some of the meats were downright imposters. But the jambalaya that was prepared tonight was to very high standards, and soared away with a well deserved plae in the top five things that Sarah can cook really well, a chart which is undergoing constant restructuring. A quality meat based meal, which shall be coming back into the mix, hopefully, asap.
Dinners aside, the weekend seems to have rushed by somewhat faster than I would have liked. I haven't drawn anything, which I hope to do between now and bedtime. I did buy some plants and have made the move into buying a new computer to replace my downright grumpy sack of festering evil that I currently run my life from.
OOh, the door openeth. Sarah is back from here external pub going activities. I shall away and push her in the forehead with my pinky finger.
Fwiiiing.

Cheques Out And Maybe Inwards?

Why do my titles always end up sounding like a Times crossword clue? Its not like something I can ever attempt to get. Backwards? We hear...
See? I don't get it. Anyways, right. I aim to be more on the regular with this feature now considering my pronounced distance from many places and having got all the furniture in suitable places in Norwich. The living room actually looks tidy.
New objectives ahoy. I am drawing something. On a piece of paper. I hope that other things will join it. All I need to do now is to continue in the same vein for a while, or ratehr, long enough not to looose interest in what I'm doing. To stick with something. Anyway.
Dissapointment of the week was a chinese takeaway. The slightly bluer one of the two which inhabit the Unthank road strip. Its been cleaned up, maybe changed hands. Now I'm always inf avour of the cleaning of a place which purveys food, but the standards have plummeted. The standards, which I calculate, by use of my yard stick for Chinese food: The cantonses style sweet n sour chicken. This product should be in more monosodium glutomate than is necessary, radioactive orange, but with a chewy crunchy coating and various vegetables in the sauce. Pineapple, tomatoe pieces, onion and pepper are all accepted. Unfortunately, they are now dishing out a soggy half brother of the hated chicken balls-the bastard uncle to cantonese style. Complicated isn't it?
So anyway, I need to move to takeaway pastures new.

Smattering of Fun

A quick burst of blog I feel is in order, before I become completely obliterated from the world. Currently amid the process of moving my meagre and dusty possesions from on house to another, from Lincoln to Norwich. This has put a bit of a damper on my at best atrocious communication tendancies, especially since the phone gave up the big one. NTL seem to have taken an early revenge and disconnected us a week early. Possibly for their own amusement.
It does cause pain, as you can probably appreciate that the phone is most needed on the last days of being in a house.
*hurls abuse at the unfairness of it all*
Will be difficult, I assume getting things settled in Norwich. May well be with out net for a week. Don't know if I can cope. Could be painful.

I now feel bleuurg. With a capital starvation. I started playing Metal Gear Solid 2 about, ooh, five hours ago. I thought I owuld be there till nine oclock o the evening. Its now half twelve and I had a break fr a shower. Its all happened so fast. Needless to say, the game is indeed excellent, and I feel overindulged by its makers. Hats off to you fellows in Japan. However, I am hungry, and there is a lack of biscuits. Its all hold on the food front until monday now.
Still, I feel that today has been a particularly good. day. Quiet at work, allowing play time for hangman. Quite some competition aflame in some people. Discussed strapless bras with a collegue. My transfer is inthe bag. I may get a pay rise, thank you deeply to those responsible at work who are giving me the opportunity. And to pop a cap in the ass of the situation, due to the offchance probings with a pin, I now have my old 'superfluous' piercing on my left lobe back, and at no cost to the taxpayer! No pain, none involved, so please feel no alarm. Just pleasant suprise and the possibility of more metal ahoy. Solid Metal...

I now feel bleuurg. With a capital starvation. I started playing Metal Gear Solid 2 about, ooh, five hours ago. I thought I owuld be there till nine oclock o the evening. Its now half twelve and I had a break fr a shower. Its all happened so fast. Needless to say, the game is indeed excellent, and I feel overindulged by its makers. Hats off to you fellows in Japan. However, I am hungry, and there is a lack of biscuits. Its all hold on the food front until monday now.
Still, I feel that today has been a particularly good. day. Quiet at work, allowing play time for hangman. Quite some competition aflame in some people. Discussed strapless bras with a collegue. My transfer is inthe bag. I may get a pay rise, thank you deeply to those responsible at work who are giving me the opportunity. And to pop a cap in the ass of the situation, due to the offchance probings with a pin, I now have my old 'superfluous' piercing on my left lobe back, and at no cost to the taxpayer! No pain, none involved, so please feel no alarm. Just pleasant suprise and the possibility of more metal ahoy. Solid Metal...

Hugh.
Better put in a word, its been days. However, its soon gonna be a case of lots of gaps, for soon I move. A month and a little more, and this sack of bones shall move from The Lincoln back to The Norwich. Huzzahs!

I bet that doesn't work, but anyways, image or no, I would like to track down the new and improved MCvitties Orange chocolate digestive. It could surpass my current fave, the milk choc digestive. But only if outstanding.
Thats enough of that.
Fwang!

Huah! Thar she blows. I like the last panel, I like the fact that I actually spent the time to give it some shades of grey. Huzzaz.
Now, I can return to wondering when Gunbuster 2 will be available in my own language, or at least with subtitles, and hoping that my wallet will still be there when I turn up for work tommorrow. That would be nice.
Aside from that, I caved in and bought a Gamecube on the weekend. This may seeem a little frivolous, but fear not, I have Rebel Assault 2 and can smell all the glory of the trench mid death star antics. Its quite fun. But not as fun as the games i shall eventually come to hold. Give it time...
Also, does anyone smell Spearmint? They really are rather good, you indie lovers. Fwaaaaang.

Quicker than the present

Briefly this morning I experienced a real life cartoon moment. For just one second my life became that of Calamity James of Beano featuring fame. Yes, the old style one, the good one. You remember, little squelchy things, keys to life etc, all of which James seemed completely unaware of. I'm sorry, I just spend half an hour looking for a picture of the miserable little weasle and he is no where to be found on the entire poxy fucking web. I'm rather ticked off at that.
Anyways, I found a coverted golden ticket marked million pound prize, in gold, on the pavement on the way to work. I felt special, and left it where it was. It was a thing.
Also, I'm getting envious of people's possesion of the digital picture taking equipment. I really would have liked to document the roofly destruction of the building I can see from my window. No, really...

Nudging The Tapestry of Life

Currently, I have a mental note. It says 'stop eating so many bisuits'. It can't be helped, I tell it. Fate is conspiring against me, in an effort to singlehandedly keep the McVities corporation afloat. It brings me really big packets of said product forth from Tescos for a relatively cheap price.
Actually, I want to talk about the Tescos here in Lincon. I went there yesterday.
The walk from my house to Tescos is possibly the most depressing, soul destroying journey I have ever had to regularly undertake, and I went to school. It starts off with my leaving the house, which is never something I'm wild for, and heading down my street to the main road that runs through Lincoln. This usually involves my distain for the people with a dog and no front lawn who leave it in their fortress-like paved front yard to shit to its hearts content whereby they hose said shit out under the front gate and across the pavement. I hate these people.
Upon reaching the main road, I am greeted by practically a duel carriageway running through a residential area. Kebabs debris and shit litter the pavements. I dodge across the road, bereft of regular pedestrian crossing oppotunities, and continue down the road to Tescos.
Lined with poxy pavement fronting terraces, the pavements are littered with rubbish, mostly polystyrene packets from burgers and other filthy takeaways. Everything is dirty.
To actually get to tesco, I have to make a large detour as there is an actual duel carriageway in the way, running directly through where terraces once stood. The hideous bulk of warehouse stores edge the other side, where my goal lies. I go through the underside of the carriageway.
Broken glass, vomit, rotting wood and filth abound. I dodge throuhg a car park, and across a busy junction with no provision for people with feet whatsoever.
There is no pavement to Tescos. There are no trees.
The message is clear, if you have no car, you are worth approximately shit.
Who built these places? Does no one care for their surroundings? I am annoyed. It may fade, but more than likely it will lead to me burning down the empty Office World building, which has clearlygone out buisness. What? Oh, didn't you realise that a town the size of lincoln did not need an office supply warehouse the size of a football ground? The sheer greed of it disgusts me. I am not in a good mood.

Captured the Trifle

What's the tune? Tahiti 80 with their strange and, to me, slightly unfathomable tunes. I can't quite settle with them, and to me they will always be one of those albums with the white sleeve that you bought on a whim and barely listen to, but always know they're there. I bought one recently; the Broken Family Band. I know, even now, they will slip into that category.
So, snow. Yes, thats right, great big knobbly chunks of it. White n fluffy n, well, its actually melted now. But it may well be back, meaning I have to wear trainers to work. Because apparently, posh blokes shoes should not allow the wearer any grip, greeting any sudden movement on a normal surface, such as carpet, with a crashing down and breaking of bones. So, to whosoever decided that these shoes should be as such, you are a crithard. Pure and simple.
Back to basics, you bastards. Lets have some shoes that do the job. Not do you in.
Job.

'ahhhhh' Chorus of slightly bored angels humm in unison heralding the arrival of fresh new steaming frames of comic stuff. There it is. I'm so proud 'sniff'.
In other news, circularity is getting to me recently. IN several ways. Firstly, the repetition we have to go through to maintain certain standards of life. For instance, I must wash up, nd clean myself and eat to maintain life, pr3event creatures in the kitchen taking up permanent residence, and to keep my friends and not drive them away in a green haze. Okay, thats fine. But it perpetuates so, so sodding MUCH. Also, I find it annoying that no one can draw a perfect circle. If any mathematicians are watching, please correct me if I am raging slightly unfairly, but surely. Its not fair that what we call a circle is only an ideal of something which could exist somewhere, possibly. Am I wrong?
Bugger.
Anyway, in real news, it snowed a bit in Norwich and in Lincoln. It melted. Its bloody cold. But I still have to wash and eat etc.
Does someone want to swap?

So, why the generic medium of all staple Japenese Entertainment? Well, firstly, its really there as me testing putting thesew things into my blog, because it needs some colour and it seems a good idea at the time. Also, it quite nicely illustrates what I plan to spend some hard earned money on. All fifty episodes, if I manage to pull it off. Stop! You're Under Arrest, for the uninitiated, is a cunning mix of car chases, explosions, humour and stuff. Lots of stuff. Anyway, it looks like fun. So, as every, I'm taking a guess and going for it. I'll let you know how I get on.
In other news, Mum bought me some frankinsense from Mofo, of something or other (in the middle east) I can't actually remember, oh hang on. Omahn. It was Ohman. Sic. Nyes. So anyway, this cunning porcelain cup thing came with charcoal and lumps of aforementioned sense. So, setting match to charcoal in the traditional way, I was greeted with a shower of sparks and then around two hours of thick smoke as the amber type tree sap burned away in the dish, gagging the entire upper floor of my house. Lesson learned: Remember, this is product used mainly in large airy places. And stagbles, according to legend. Not wise. Not by a long shot.

Oh Ho !! Feel the wonderment of http://animalreviews.zelica.net/.
It truly is the site which reviews animals It can only be seen as good.

First Things Last, With Flavour

Trebuchet? Its more than just a new font, its a whole new way of life. Or not. If it was a new way of life, it would probably be the sort of life that keeps all its receipts from purchases, stores them in their wallet and then throws them all away at the end of the month wihtout giving them so much as a second glance. So very much suited to me then.
Music? Mr Scruff currently, after literally months of getting round to sucessfully downloading it. To back up the copy I own. Ahem. Anyhow, its rather funky and squelchy. A flat eric for the laid back looper.
And, and and! Literally Bonus Eventus as the 'man' coughs up a sweet four hundred for me in my every six months performance related bonus pay. Which seems a little remiss of whoever is in charge, because I could have made more money by standing at the door and telling people to go away and boil themselves in gravey. Which I should have done, come to think of it. So that's good. I quite enjoyed the way in which our manager sort of sneaked everyone away into a corner to tell them to prevent workplace 'bonus' envy. Which isn't pretty. I just wonder who would actually care if they weren't happy with what they got. Grind their teeth and complain that actualy they think they deserve more? Its just a question of numbers in the end as these things often are.
Went back to a random issue of Transmetropolitan, the ultimate comic book. IN fact, its more than that. Warren Ellis, at least for this particular comic, was so much on track, he was practically wearing sports shoes. Rage. Its good.
Also good is Metal SLug 3 for the MAME emulator I could never be without. Its beautiful, brilliant. I'm sure eveyone knows about this but give me a break; I didn't have any disposable income in the eighties. Or the ninties. I barely have any of the bugger now. Anyway, with tha automatic coin add button, I can play as long as I like, without the need for fresh and tasty skill but just blind determination. Lots of explosions. Which neatly brings me round to defending my position in a cunning juxtaposition with my previous 'retro' rage. I don't regard this as retro for the sake of it.
You see, people can have interest areas, which carry a deep and rich heritage across time and space. Time and space there, making an appearance. Not to get too overbearing, but computer games change in style along with technology, and it just so happens that my favorite type of game is the platformer, which has evolved into the third person adventure game. I love the 2D genius stuff, and this game whips tail. So teenage mutant ninja turtle it up and prepare to be destroyed, for it has the smooth scrolling and pretty sprites of Gunstar Heroes, and the richness of graphics that only arcade cabinets could brush, and that the SNES would struggle to manage.
A man can love Jazz, but this is not necessarily retro, it just so happens that a huge wash of good quality jazz was produced back in the day. I mean, lets be honest, in another music school, have you heard what some people call 'modern blues?' That is one particualr term that can only be embarrassing, conjouring images and sounds beyond the realms of taste. To me, a blues afficianado has to traverse back in time to find the best of that school without purposely being 'retro'. So goodnight, mushrooms. And thanks for watching.

Getting to know your own Pavement

Now, I did have some fascinating rumination to slap down here, like a hated fish, but its clean gone. Oooh, hang on, it returns. Yes, thats the bunny. I was thinking, as I have this horrible habit forming tendancy to do so, that as we look upon old people with their crazy old fashioned ways, such as cashing cheques (and their corresponding fear of the debit card) wearing those jumpers with diamonds on them (not in the bling sense obviously. Did you know that could well be the first time I used the word bling ever? IN written texT) and driving those mobile things that really freak me out. I think; what shall be the habits of our generation that become outmoded, frowned upon, laughed at and driven off the high street into specialist shops manned by, well, old men. One, I have decided, is the humble cd. Not just the format itself but the very act of spending money on an actual tactile thing will become passe. Because as it all stands now, although with access to the internet and al its crazy downloading things, I still have to buy cds because I want to. This will perish, eventually, along with nostalgia for bloody eighties cartoons which weren't very good (guys, lets face it, it was all a sack of shite aimed at the brains of children. It wasn't subversive, it was just, sometimes, slow and friendly, and not in your face and shite like today. The point being, it was our shite, shite we had grown up with. SO we love it. Just don't read too much into it. The same people who drool over transformers (blah blah blah) would baulk at anime, so kiss it. Fashion junkie loosebag heathens.
Also, for those of you who would dabble, I recently sidled over to www.potatoe.com for a gander at the messageboard. Guess what? The often abused, hated and downright feared 'Is Eilijah gay etc' message is back again at the top of the popular charts. It just bothers me a little, that out of all the varied and less tedious strings this illustrious board has to offer, this is the most hit upon by chance by mild surfers. I do despair, quietly and constantly.

Maturity Reaches My Towel

Yes, thats right, its finally arrived. Literally, months away from its forth birthday since I bought it as an emergency in Italy on a camping holiday, having forgotten my own towel, my trusty two tone green and other green beach towel has matured. It was the last wash which finally pushed it ovver the border of being just 'nice n firm' after being washed, to being 'crisp and rough'. Not everyone appreciates this effect, indeed some mark it as the time to change the offending item in question, but I see it as the advent of a new era in its existence. Now a quick rubdown after a shower not only cleanses the skin deep down, but itches and scratches at those hard to reach places. Its a dream finally come true.
Now all that remains is for my Portugal blue beach towel to catch up with it and I hav myself a pair o' beauties. I also want to know why do I only have beach towels? Is it a total unwillingness to seperate the two? Both are made of the same material, but only the purpose built bathroom variety xomes ina resdtricted range of boring colours. Bring the hearty range of bright ones I say. Make my eyes bleed.

Roughly left in one piece of different size

God what a horrible week. The hideous disease of the LuftSheisse has passed through me leaving only a scoured and detatched feeling lingering in its place. It has now been four days since I lost an entire evening and night of precious sleep to the disease and my stomach still feels wrong. Difficult to place a finger on the exactitude of the sensation, but it just aint right.
However, Norwich was a fair remedy to my illness blues although beer was out of the question. Also, I have issued myself with an internal ultimatum which I shall tell more about at a later date. It makes me feel better, to try and counter the feeling of massive depression which is starting to settle over me, mainly due to low blood sugar from the illness which I blame wholeheartedly. PLus the fact of course, that it always helps to be able to blame a sudden bout of depression actually ON something as opposed to accepting that it comes and goes and its just there. Bastard. I hope I feel better tommorrow. Whinge.

Something fresh-ish from the bowels. Ironic, and somewhat a little too graphic, considering the week's events.

Blanking sideways, Arnold...

It all looks a bit bare round here doesn't it? Fear not, there is a fresh cartoo bin done drawn. Just waiting for someone to scan it and tidy it etc. Thats all a bit technical for me. Plus the fact that I don't actually hvae a scanner.
On the plus side, I just discovered how good story of thor for the megadrive is. Its a rather smashing little Zelda clone, with a bit more funky action. Also, currently sampling the Dropkick Murphys properly after having the tunes knocking around for ages. Imagine what would happen if you glued the sex pistols and the pogues together. ALl right, if you did that you'd have a hideous many legged creature drippijng booze and, erm, corpse pieces. More like a cross between the musics. There. How's that?Anyway, its good, and should be listened to. I need to fill a noisy gap in my life since Mclusky split up. I don't really know how the swines could do such a thing to an innocent boy such as myself.
And now I tire. My eyes they hurt after two hours of Panzer Dragoon Orta and an hour of Story of Thor and i need to rest them for the day tomorrow. Clocking out, skinbags.

I keep forgetting what I want to be writing here, its definately becoming a problem. Like my spelling of 'definitley' there. I still refuse to use the spellchecker though, let my ignorance be wide and sweaty, and need a sit down. So what has the day brought to me? I have noticed that as you get older, I think I may have nailed down the reason for loosing the interest in music. Music, as you should know, works on a sort of cycle thing. Some say a cycle of new crazes and stuff, but I disagree. The cycle is the distance, roughy, in age that it takes for the second generation of children to fully establish itself as 'seperate'. In fact, I think this may be a ten year gap, but I'm not wheeling out any adding and counting appearus, like a mathematician, here. I think it has something to do with the fact that, as you get older, having livedf longer you have had more and more time on your hands in which to do stuff, goes without saying. Now, if music is indeed your thang, then your time will have been spent asorbing lots of music. There are always exceptions to the rule, I admit, but I think that you reach a point at which you have heard all the music available which centres around the sort of music that you like. You can't be bothered listening to imitators and so give it up as a bad job, or your buying peters out as you intake drops in proportion to the amount of quality stuff coming out. As I have said, exceptions usually mean people with a wider range of tastes and areas of music to draw from, or with changing areas of preference. That, and of course, the fact that we view our earlier records through rose tinted ear glasses, and we always thinks that it was 'better than the rubbish nowadays'. Sometimes. Persoannly, I stand by some of the tat that I bought because I either feel sorry for it or I continue to enjoy it because it means something, despite my knowing it isn't that 'good' anymore. Maybe its meaning to me changes.
Whoo. That wasn't as in depth as I'd like but my back hurts on this chair,although it might be the height of the keyboard doing it. Brief adjustment finds me just as uncomffortable so screw it.
On another note, I have actually bought and sent off my Dad's birthday card which may, or may not, actually arrive at his house tommorrow, but considering the address styling I doubt it. I think I actually combined at least three different addresses to make it. Soon know I guess.
Signing off

I'll tell you what this new keyboard is taking a bit of the wits out of me. Still, noy so bad so far. Or maybe so... Anyway I refuse to spellcheck the post to give it that genuine ie lazy feel. God, what a day. I can only bring you muzak. Yes, thats right. I got sent to a different place of work today, a common household name bank place which, for some reason, has the stereo in the back of the counter playing the same forty minutes or so of the most abysmal, soul destroying, suicide inducing load of gutless shite I have ever heard. On constant repeat. Its actually the aural equivalent of hell. I cannot believe someone saw fit to subject us to this dross. It simply goes beyond all human belief. Does someone think that it improves morale? Passes the time? Whose twisted mind engendered this project? I think that we should be told.
I had to come home and play Radiohead, which I had injected into my skull manually during the day just to keep it together. Which provided some relief. And, something else I discovered. The Morrisons Battenburg cake isn't all its cracked up to be. The marzipan crumbles off the sponge, and doesn't taste as almondy. And thats what i look for in a cake. Flavour. So bad for you Mr Morrison. I shall deny you any money from Battenburg selling and purchasing. You shall suffer fiunancially for your negligence.
In other news, the sweet n sour veg still sits here inmy room. I can't say for sure what this will smell like when I finally get round to actually desposing of itm, but its beenso long, I don't want to open it any more. So that can stay where it is for now. I'm sure it'll sort itself out eventually.
On a final note, did you know that the Sega Saturn actually had over 5o scrolling shooters released for it? Me neither until recently. Apparently the japenese are very big on the mass destruction side of videogames. I do like them and their crazy 'everything' thing. Lets make it big n bright n loud. It is likely to make you go blind but, hey, the mania does that. Fwwwing.

Bloaty on Chinese

Ooooh, I think I definately shouldn't have eaten all of the chinese takeaway really. It isn't a good thing, it gives me pain. So, good weekend then? Yes. The best part, to my mind, was the delicious beer available at the Kings Arms in Norwich just off the ringroad. Good beer good company. For reference, this was the night Tom bit my arm a lot and Chris came to the conclusion that to ask someone if they like the taste of ginger would be a good chat up line.
Itcould be.
In other news, right now all I really want is to go to bed and the world to go away for a couple of days which it wont do which I think is very poor organisation on its part. Faye does a goooood fried breakfast too. Mental note: Just go to bed. Now.

There. I shall release it into the wild and call it Brian. Or Shelia. Or something.

Broadside by Brown, apparently...

Yes, thats right musi fans; Ian Brown officially not that pleased with John Squire's singing duties on some old stone roses covers. Thought the singing didn't do them justice. Yes, that's right. Ian brown slates another human being for not quite doing his songs justice in the live singing area of things. Ian, lets just sit back a minute shall we, lad?
You are, to all intents and purposes, a very successful musician. With your near legendary status as the ex-roses frontman you had a godlike following before you even really started. You have released numerous fresh and critically 'poked about at' albums which have pleased many and done other things to similar numbers. You Dj, are a regular live player, delighting the old and young alike with your droning. Keeping out there as a quality celebrity. Even stretches in prison and threatening hand removal action unless scones were produced fills us with amusement and enjoyment. But Ian, lad, Ian.... you sing like a moose. You cannot berate Squire, who to be fair is not the holder of the best voice this side of the pond, for not singing Stone Roses songs live very well. I mean, come on. Seriously man. I've heard you live. I know what you do. Go and have a sit down, and think about what you are saying. Lighten up. Have a scone, it'll do you good.

Working on a world of Bowels.

Yes, its off putting, but I have an overpowering problem of a boxc of bowels looking at me. Or rather, a piece of artworkentitled 'I shouldn't have left the box of veg and sewwt n sour sauce lying around for more than a week'. Its bright orange and it might very well destroy the fabric of society. Or something.
Anyhow, have had a refreshing weekend of extended nature at me mothers up in the ol' home town being fed and carried around, which is rather good, with the wonderful bonus privilidge of my girlfriend also being present. This was enjoyable to say the least, although I have returned home tonight and had a meal of veg and noodles in some sauce. The sauce had been sat inthe fridge for at least a week half used. It may cause massive problems tomorrow, but it may well be dealt with well. I can but speculate until then.
Apart from that, work could be fun or hooooribble this coming week. Cause I had monday off. Rigour people are in. This could be very bad news. On edge. Trying to ignore it. Will try to do some comic ing tonight. Must ignore XBOX magnetic pull.Under and out.

So what do you know? I think cramming these in here is a good thing. It gives the whole buisness a better feel. I like it. Although it has ade the white strip very wided and fuck up a bit. But I don't really mind that. Bless you Blogger and all who sail in ye.

I wonder if this works?

Broccoli Is Popular...

I don't know why, but I felt the need to sing an ode to brocolli this afternoon. Or was it the mince? Actualy, it was. The mince received a rather jolly reggae timed skank in honour of its versatile meaty nature, and broccolli got bigged up in a scottish accent, which slowly began to drift into Newcastle. It was an average meal, to be sure. But the mince was king.
Almost as good as this here coffee which sits begfore me, which is rather good too.
PLayed for too long on Panzer Dragoon Orta, but it is rather good, so it isn't a sin. NO IT ISN'T. It ain't no sin. Unlike Pride which is, according to some books. The dictionary I think lists it as, erm, a group of Lions. Which is true. So the bible lied to me. It LIED. LIIIIIESS. It keeps doing that. Almost on every page. Its like a three year old who has just discovered that the truth can be distorted through deliberate false reporting. Okay, so I don't have a bible. But I do have, erm, the entire Transmetropolitan series in book form on my shelves. Which is much better. Infinately better, in fact.
I had it brought to my attention today, by my own mind, which interrupts all the time, that I haven't bought an actual cd for awhile recently. So i should remedy that. But not yet, for the ex-box has drained me funds. Must refraim for a while. I can always watch the rest of excel saga, or chew att he corners of the Mad capsule Markets. In fact I should do that now, although with headphones on, for the walls in these terraces be thin. And it be gettin' late. Yes it be.
Roger, over under out.

Seriously, Xbox Ahoy, this time...

Yes, we have 'box. Afer returning from Leeds on Friday, feeling a little relieved to have managed to navigate back to Lincoln without a map, I tasked my erstwhile flatmate to ferry me dooon to t' ParcelFarce office to receive package of goodness. In a flurry of activity, I spent much of Saturday playing Munch's Oddessy, and spent spent spent! On saturday too, buying a couple more games on the cheap in the shops sale and getting the Most of the Most from Will and his last day of work discount. OooooOOoooh yes.
But now I'm all over the rather good boing of Panzer Dragoon Orta, which promises the original in there somewhere if I play hard enough. No problems there then...
In other news, back on the McVitties chocolate digestives in a big way. Could spell trouble, but quite frankly I don't care. May have to go and make another cup of tea to go with the, thoug, they are a little dry without, the experience lacks somewhat. I also did another strip of comic goodness, so I think what i will do is set up another blog. This should be interesting.