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.

Xbox Ahoy. Finally.

Well, I've only gone and done it haven't I? Merely moments, nay mere bleens ago, I purchased from the illustrious Amazon Dot commm, a box of X. A whole one. But equipped with one controller, I plan to be tasting its fruity flavours sometime in the new year. I realise this may well mean the end of my life as I know it. I do enjoy video games, I cannot deny it. I however, am not going to whine on about being addicted to them, although would like to know what it is that makes them just so moreish. The total escapism perhaps? The ability to shoot things and not have to taste the consequences? This may be the solution.But hey, its what I want./ Also, I get to not care about being so far behind in the technology race, that while everyone is making damp patches on the rug and spending weeks in front of Halo2, I get to witness Halo One in all its prequel glory and not feel done. Its what I want, to be steps behind the tech wave, so then I don't have to constantly spend money, especuially not on phones which burp, whistle and bugger your dog when no one looks.
These two mince pies in front of me, I don't think they're going to get eaten really. They taste a bit too swseet for my liking. And make my teeth hurt. So in the bin with them. And WOAH does my bin smell or what? I spat some half chewed orange in therte yesterday and I think its already started to ferment. Its like alchohol in there. Like. Very much Like. I hope it doesn't get that uch worse. Ooh, I need to wash up too. Groan.
What to do while I wait for my new life to arrive? Wonder why I don't have the patience to wait for some shop to have a console so I can get it from the town of Lincoln instead of sending a delicate electronic gizmo through the post. Hmm. Hang on, that was a dumb thing to do Oh God Noooo! Now I , ,Oh sod it. Whatever. I want, i get. Shut up about it.
So looking forward to the new year. Can't be doing with work though. There's no need for that.
Fwangipan.

I don't need to see that

I mean really, you walk through the crowds of meaty people trying to wander home, fighting past mothers and prams, tooth and nail in a bid to maintain your own desired 'get the fuck home' walking speed and in the ten minute walk from work to home (which is rather good really) you turhn the corner into your road only to be faced with some guy taking a pee up a wall. On the pavement. Standing, releiving himself in the fucking walkway! This is not a alleyway, ,thish is a fucking road, where pelople live! There is a pub about, ooh, twenty seconds away whose facilities he could use, but no, he decides to pee is divine. I don't hate him for it, he did run off, clearly embrarassed, but still: have people lost their decency. Ten more yards and he would have been in a disused yard. All dark like. Good for a quick pee.
However, apparently, according to my mate who just got back frfom work, the pubs are simply rammed full of booze hounds, so maybe the queue in the pub was too much. I guess we'll ever know. Still, ,remember kids, pick your pee spots carefully, coz someone might just be around the corner.

Hey, look at that. Thats rather good isn't it? No? Well please yourself. eat my shorts etc. Well, I'll go to the foot of our stairs. A ickle strip wot a drew and wot James, my erstwhile flatmate wrote. I think I may do the second one tomorrow. It makes for something to do with the ink I bought. Also, I've nearly finished watching the rest of that there Serial Experiments Lain dvd, which is rather gooood. Although getting even more strange as it progresses. It was definately a good thing to get though. Not sure where to progress next with dvds of terror. On the buying front that is. Wait until christmas is over dan, then buy yourself an XBOX! Oh yes, just as they get the news through of the next one, I buy the first one. Why can't they wait a bit before getting the next big thing in and on? Hmm?
Aside from that, There's always the Zim of invader fame to relish and oh my GOD guess what? My mum brought down some particularly gooood mince pies and lemon curd today and oh yes isn't that jus the hit of the whole fruit? You bet it is, all of the lemon. I'm mighty pleased. And only four more days of work left before we hit the christmas. ROCK!
But I need to finish christmas shopping tommorrow. SPEND, you know you HAVE to. A forced charmic thing possibly, people will buy for you, but you must buy for them, to give and to receive, can't do one without the other.
Maybe there's a law on it. Who knows?

A tasy and unforeseen way of posting no less. Prepare yourselves for th e might of the remote blogging tool.. I quite like it. ALthough I haven't actualy attempted to weild its mighty powers just yet, sio it may yet go wrong.Again, my evenings are being consumed. Tonight I cut my hair. It is all short and spikey and less likely to make it look like I am trying to cover up the fact it is slowly falling out. I am a realist, there's no doubt about that. Probably why I neverbother asking people at work if they want a better bank account, we're only trying to screw them for money.
However, I have managed under instruction, which is what I am good at. My ersstwhile flatmate suggested that he write three frames for a cartoon strip and I draw them. And it worked, it made me do something. He's just finished touching it up on photosop, and it may well be available on the computer as we speak. The web rather.
Nevertheless, I need to shade this here picture o mine before bed, just so I can say I did something. A webpage would be ice to store them on, but I don't have a scanner, so I think I'll leave it for now.
Hmm, this was indeed short and again lacking in content, or me waffling on about it lacking in content. Who cares? Its my wordses, so I can do what I like!