I'm not too good at Poetry,

But here's a poem I wrote to demonstrate a more eloquent and emotional side of me that others may not have seen.

The following poem really wrenched at my heartstrings, and I had to go for a little cry once I'd finished.

I wander lonely like a cloud,
Swimming against a tideless crowd,
I stop and think, though not aloud,
"Look at that puppy - it has a fork in it's eye!"



*Sniff*.

Flatmates = Friends

I'm on a bit of a high at the moment, cos I've just found a couple of flatmates! I've been really stressed and pissed off about moving, cos everywhere is REALLY expensive at the moment. I'm currently paying £675 a month and it's not leaving me with too much money to play with. However, I'm moving, cos my current flat is nice, but expensive, and so badly soundproofed that I can never get a decent night's sleep.

On the off chance that my mate Russ might need a flatmate, I sent him an email asking if he did. The reply was "Yeah, I am, how did you know?"
"I didn't know, I just need somewhere to live!" was my answer!

So, hopefully, if everything turns out alright, I'll be moving in here:



The house comes on the market on Monday, and so nobody else has looked at it yet. I went out to Pizza Hut with Russ and Ian tonight, and decided we all want to go ahead. Tomorrow morning I will phone up, and if they will let me, put 'first dibs' on the house. For anyone who may not be familiar with this expression, before you ask, I don't know where the phrase comes from, but I'm sure you'll be able to find out if you look on the Internet. Jive Suckas.

Anyway, the specs of the house are:

• Four double bedroom three storey terraced townhouse in sought after residential area close to the city centre.

• Living room on first floor with julliette balcony, television, dvd player and video.

• Kitchen with light wood units and patio doors to garden, fitted gas hob and electric oven, freestanding silver fridge freezer, dishwasher, washing machine.

• Ground floor and first floor double bedroom both have freestanding wardrobes.

• Two double bedrooms on the second floor both with fitted wardrobes, one with dressing room.

• Bathroom, bath, shwr, wc. GCH, DG.

• Pebbled and grassed garden with patio furniture.

• Allocated parking.

• Furnished £900 pcm

There will actually be 4 of us. Russ - a web developer, Ian - a pimp, and a Planning Officer for the Council, Lorna - a trainee account, and Me - an Oracle Database Administrator.

Also, Lorna is female, and thus will have female friends. I can imagine the parties, the bikinis and water fights in the garden now. At least that's how it plays out in my head. At the very least, I'll get some hammock time in. Wooo!

Between four of us, a hardcore internet connection will be required methinks. I wonder how much 4mb costs....?

So... woopitty woop woop! The rent will cost £225 each, and then bills! I'm gonna have money again! I think I might pay off my debts, while I'm in the habit of watching what I spend....

And best of all, I'll make lots of new friends! My social life has been a little stagnant recently. That's not to say anything bad about my current friends, but the list has gotten a little small for my liking!

Anyway, been in a great mood now, gotta go out and do stuff. Hooray for stuff.

This is how you remind me.

This reminded me of Jimbo:


Stolen from Toothpaste For Dinner.


This reminded me of Foss:


Stolen from White Ninja Comics


And this reminded me of Lisa Riley:


Stolen from Spelling Mistakes Cost Lives.

That is all.

That Sinking Feeling.

Ok, I feel I must explain to the masses what the current situation with the sink is. It is still very full, and very blocked. I'll explain why.

On Friday night I went out on for a customary pissup with a load of workmates to celebrate/comisserate another colleague (Claire) who is leaving to move to a new job and life in London. Ironically, she never turned up for her own leaving do, as her evil (now ex) boyfriend turned up on her doorstep just as she was leaving to come out. Even more ironically is that I thought she was moving to London, partly to get away from him! What a beautiful thing love is.

Anyway, all I had eaten all day was a big greasy breakfast roll at about 10:30 am. I didn't feel hungry, but I felt a bit drunk after only a few Coronas (with lime), and it was then I remembered I hadn't eaten. Ah well, Bars have peanuts. However I forgot about this promptly with the introduction of some more beers. All was well with the world, and the beers flowed freely. As Claire had arranged the whole shindig badly, there was only five or six of us, but fun times were still being had. We moved to the Long Room, and then on to Fuel, where strangely, we were approached by a cute blond girl and told that if we went in, we'd get a free shot of vodka each! Result! Just like being on holiday! Even better was the fact that we were going there anyway, and I demanded six shots, even though there were only five of us by now. I was a bit drunk by this stage though.

We then played Spoof* to deicide who would drink the last vodka. In case you don't know, the aim of Spoof is to hold between zero and three coins in a fist, hold your hands and try to guess how many coins in total are in the hands of all the players. For instance if there were three of us, and I had 3 coins in my hand, and I thought the other two players did too, I might guess Nine. However, you can trick the other players into thinking you have less coins in your hand, by guessing three, implying that you have very few coins in your hand. I, making fine use of all my available cunning (which is quite a lot) put in my guess, and won! However, we were all drunk, and it all got mixed up, so it turned out, because I had guessed right, I was out, and the other three remained. We spent so long 'discussing' the rules, that eventually one of the barmen went "guys, you've been discussing the rules of Spoof for over half an hour now. Don't you think you should find something else to talk about?" or something like that. So I drank the last vodka anyway.

We then moved on to Cuba. We were going to go in Ride (which is next door), but they were charging £2 to get in! They never charge! I was so shocked, I said loudly, "fuck that, let's go to Cuba!". I don't really remember, but I think the doorstaff of Ride scowled at me.
In Cuba, it was pretty busy, and there was lots of fine pie around. I was pretty smashed by now. If I was Jamie, this is the time I'd stick a toilet roll tube down the front of my trousers, and then ask girls "do you mind if I just 'bone' around here for a bit...?".

I was talking to Laura, and somehow this pie's arse had ended up in my hands. I don't truly remember how it came to be there, but it definately was. I was stood pretty much back to back with the random pie, as it was pretty packed, and I suddenly said to Laura, "Hey guess what? I'm holding this girl's arse!". Laura didn't believe me (my ninja skills are subtle, but effective), so I shifted to the side slightly, and sure enough, Laura could witness my cupping skills.
The only two things I can say in my defence are that (a) I was really drunk, and (b) She MUST have known. You see not only was I cupping, but I was gently stroking too. I gave all of her buttocks attention, including the sensitive underside, close to the glorious muff.

It took until about 2pm the following day for me to remember that event, but she must have known. There's no doubt in my mind. On hindsight, I wish I had complemented her on her fine ass, but I believe I headed off towards the bar without looking back. I think next time I get really drunk and I see a great ass, I think I might just go up to it's owner, and say "Hi, you have a simply fantastic ass. Can I hold it please?"

You will notice sometimes I say 'arse' and sometimes 'ass' and sometimes even 'butt'. This is to welcome bum lovers from all around the globe. We shalt bow down before our esteemed leader, Sir Mix-A-Lot and give thanks be to booty.

Anyway, back to the subject at hand. I was steaming drunk when I left Cuba, and I had probably been dancing too. As Nate hadn't come out with Laura, she needed some way of getting home as walking alone wasn't an option. I said I'd walk her back, but only after food. We got Chinese, and ate it at mine, which was on the way to Laura and Nate's place. I wolfed down my chinese, I was damn hungry. However it was quite greasy, and whatever it was, it wasn't sitting right. Before I'd even finished I needed that fateful trip to the bathroom.

Incidentally, Laura got a taxi home. I think if I had walked her, I probably would have passed out in the gutter at some point, and I don't know if that would have been before I got her home or not...

Amazingly, although when I came downstairs the next morning, the sink was absolutely full with sick, but I hadn't spilt a drop! No sick on the floor, the tiles by the sink, or even on the sink rim! The bathroom was pristine, except for the sink full of vomit. This is when I took the photo.
More amazingly was the fact it didn't smell like sick at all in the bathroom. It smelt mostly like chinese, and a little bit like beer. I guess the chinese hadn't been in for long enough to class as sick.

I scooped the vomit out of the sink with a pint glass, and pour it into the toilet. I then replaced the vomit with water, and repeat the process. Eventually, all I'm left with is a cloudy sink full of water and 'sediment'. I try to use a plunger, but it just makes the sink overflow hole spit rice and small bits of ham at me, and does nothing for the blockage.

Today at lunchtime I was looking at drain unblockers in the supermarket. It suddenly occured to me that they wouldn't work though, for a number of reasons. One of them is that on all the bottles, it says to empty the entire contents down the plughole. How can I do that, if the entire sink is full to brim with water and sediment?
Another problem is that I'm not sure if sink unblocker will really work with undigested chinese food. I doubt it highly, and none of the types I found at the supermarket list 'vomit' as being one of the things they shift, with the possible exception of the one with all the labelling entirely in Portugese, and I don't read Portugese. Or speak it for that matter.

So, I'm left with a full sink, and not many options. I think I might have to open up the U-bend under the sink, but that requires a bucket of some sort, and I don't have one. I wonder if it'll just go away if I leave it? I doubt it very much though, as the water level hasn't dropped in 3 days now.

A Haiku For The New Generation

Last night I got drunk
Then I was sick in the sink
It is still blocked up.

Please Bear with me while I fuck things up.

I'm trying, God I am, but this bloody tagboard is driving me nuts. I thought I had it working earlier, but now the old problems and error messages are back! I keep screwing up the template in an attempt to fix it, so if everything looks wrong, or nothing is working right, then it probably means I'm working on it!

Wait a couple of minutes and then hit F5 and refresh, I'm trying to minimise the 'fuckup downtime'. I'm afraid I don't have any SLA's in place, so you'll have to bear with me.

Thanks,

Ninja Mgmt.

Very Few Things Leave Me Speechless.

This did.

PostSecret

Example:

Argh. Tagboard problems.

So far I've been pretty lucky with the designing of this site. I have very limited knowledge of html, and my CSS is pretty bad too. I've gotten by by editing existing code mostly, although I have written a small amount with the help of Dreamweaver.

However I'm trying to add a tagboard. Most of them out there are pretty shit, or designed for those with their own web server. Under the blogger help section they link to a couple. The best one recommended by Blogger (and the one without adverts) is This one.

I signed up, and configured it, to the best of my ability. I put the tagboard html code into the sidebar section of my Blogger Template, and the appropriate CSS tags (or whatever they're called!) into the body of the Template. Iframes are enabled, and set appropriately, and so everything appears fine on the page. However, when I try to add a post, nothing happens.

One thing worth mentioning is that I did get a message before I enabled iframes saying "The chatterbox must be run from a webserver. Not a local hard drive."

Am I getting this problem because this tagboard is not meant to run on an online site such as blogger, but instead on a web server? If this is the case, why the bloody hell is it one of three recommended by Blogger itself?

Or am I being stupid, and I'm missing something?

I know you lot have the skills, it's time to pay the bills, Ladies and Gentlemen.

Room 101.

Yoink! I stole this idea from someone else. His name is Dave. He is the person previous to me on the blogring Blogging Brits (see link in the bar on the right).

You can see Dave's original post here.

If you don't already know, the concept behind Room 101 is to name 5 things that you would like to get rid of forever. I forget why it's Room 101 that it goes to. I did know, once, but the answer eludes me. Damn you!

Anyway, here are my 5 things:

1. Work.
   Definitely. I don't care about whether you lot work, this is just about me, so no comments like "oh no, what would we all do if we didn't work? Boo hoo, the economy couldn't survive, and we'd all turn into savages." - Shut up.
   For those of you who have seen the film Office Space, you will understand what I mean perfectly. Although unlike Peter, I don't really hate work itself, there's just a whole load of other things I'd really rather be doing instead. I've thought of changing careers to something that doesn't involve a lot of actual 'work' such as a politician or a writer. I'll have to get back to you on that.
   But work. Absolutely. Into Room 101, leaving me somewhere sunny, lounging around.
2. Old People.
   I might have to devote a whole post to this. I know, I know, they're your Gran or Grandad or Father or old uncle Buck, whatever. I 'm probably not talking about them, or maybe I am. I'm talking about specific ones. The ones that seem to appear from nowhere, then get in your way when you're in a hurry, and then tut when you look impatient or sigh loudly at them. The ones that don't say thank you when you hold a door open for them even though at their age, they should know better. The ones that absolutely will not budge from the reserved seat on the train so that you and your three friends can sit together at their reserved table, simply because she was there first, ignoring your polite requests for her to vacate the seat that wasn't reserved for her, and you then have to spend the next 45 minutes sat at the table trying to bully her into leaving and exclaiming that, "It's okay everyone, she'll be dead soon anyway."
   So, I'm sorry, but old people really should go into Room 101. Or their own island where the younger old people look after the uber-old, and they can all moan as much as their heart's content without bothering anybody. And for God's sake, stop giving them so much healthcare. If we hadn't stretched their life out using medication and surgery, they would be long dead anyway. What's the point? They're gonna die anyway. It's like spending money on an rusty old car that you're gonna take to the tip sooner or later anyway, you're left with less cash and nothing to show from it apart from a cadaver. It's sorta like the One Ring; it keeps you alive for longer, but the quality of life is crap, and at the end you look like a living skeleton. Nasty.
   


3. Bad Driving.
   I live in Plymouth, and I ride a motorbike, so bad driving concerns me as it affects me more than people in cars, as I'm more at risk. A number of people I know have informed me that 'By God, Plymouth has some awful drivers'. My old man used to be a motorcycle courier up and down the country, and he still swears that other parts of the country have much better drivers than the South West. Other people I know who travel a lot by road have confirmed this. I think the reason is because although elsewhere people drive aggressively, to do this requires a certain level of skill or else there would be hundreds and hundreds of accidents every day on the motorways. Some of the tight lane change maneuvers I've seen, it's amazing there was no crashes. This is simply because they drove in an environment where they had to improve. Plymouth is a lot more relaxed in contrast to many cities in the UK. Life doesn't seem quite as hectic, especially compared to the big cities like Birmingham or London.
   However, this attitude means that many drivers down here simply do not have the skills. If they were 'the skills that paid the bills' these people would be in a lot of trouble. Now don't get me wrong, I ride like my back wheel's on fire and I'm trying to escape it, but I at least know how to indicate, how to look before I move, how to make a decision at a roundabout, not go, "should I go? Shouldn't I go? Should I? Shouldn't I? Nooo..........YES! YES! NOW! Just as you're getting close. I at least know that a yellow lattice box means not to enter unless the exit is clear (i.e no stopping on the yellow box). I know which lane I should be in, I know that the speed limit isn't 15 mph on a 30 (unlike many old people - again with them!). Basically 90% of the car drivers in Plymouth cannot drive. For that I'm willing to sacrifice the other 10%. Sorry. Into Room 101!
   


4. The Media.
   This is very similar to Dave's comments. I don't like Newspapers. The News on the TV isn't as bad, but they're both spreading depressing crap. Nobody is interested in the good things that happen. Personally I think I'm a lot happier not knowing what the hell is going on. All you hear is tales of death and woe and suffering. I don't need that kind of shit thank you. The expressionless faces of the newsreaders, spreading misery to the masses. It's propaganda in it's own right. No story has two sides on the news. It's all 'Our' view of things. China will just black out anything the government doesn't want you to see, so you could be watching a black screen for 5 minutes before it returns. At least you know it's happening, that's what I say. The media whether it wants to or not, delivers a jaded view on what's really happening. In America it's gotten to the stage where it's pretty much just scare tactics, with only the most prestigious of worst events gain licence for viewing. Take the world's fascination with a court case regarding whether or not one man likes little boys, and not just as friends. What is it with that? Is it really worth that much television time? For Fuck's sake, just bring me something, one thing on TV that inspires me. Something that makes me want to be a better person. Wouldn't this be a better use of the media than telling us that one of the Royal Family has died, someone you've never even met, and therefore you will hear about it continuously for years, and they'll bollox up the schedule of the following days TV. Fuck you for making me miss the A-Team, Diana.
   I've kinda gone off topic a little, and I'm making my point badly. However, it all plays out nicely in my mind, so get your telepathy kits out. Yes, tin foil and forks will also work well, but only if you superglue them to your scalp. Go on, try it.
   


5. So Many Options for my final choice
   I'd like to say chavs. But I think I have a better idea. I can kill two birds with one stone. In all honesty, to be a proper chav, you need to be stupid. It's an underlying trait. And stupid people annoy me too. It just really gets on my wick. And I'm fed up with thinking, "Why don't you understand?!?" So, without further delay, I'll put stupidity into Room 101.

This would work itself out nicely I think. I wouldn't have to work, and I could lounge around, and then zip about on nearly empty roads (there wouldn't be many left after all the bad drivers were gone). I wouldn't have to ever wait behind a group of piss-soaked undead at the post office, or anywhere else for that matter. If I chose to take a bus, I wouldn't have to watch in disgust as someone who looks like they past away five years ago takes an age to shuffle onto the bus, and then stare about the bus with those lifeless diluted eyes that never seem to actually look at anything. I could wander about in bliss, as there would be no stupidity and so no chavs, and as everyone would be intelligent, society would take a turn for the better, and I'd get a whole load more gadgets to play with during all my spare time.

Welcome the Apocalypse

I think there may be something slightly wrong with me. I'll explain. Most people have seen disaster movies like the day after tomorrow, or one of the various films where asteroids/meteors strike earth. Well, I kinda wish this would happen. I almost wish the apocalypse would come, so I could see what I would do.


I wouldn't welcome this Apocalypse though, he's annoying and has a terrible sense of humour.

Provided I wasn't killed in the initial devastation, I think it would be really exciting. Whenever I watch films like this, I always think to myself,

"How cool would this be?"

Survival of fittest suddenly takes a whole new meaning to the human race. I personally think I'd do quite well.

I like cities, but mostly with nobody in them. I used to work as a croupier, and I would walk the few miles home at 4:30am. It was my favourite time of day. Often I wouldn't see a single car or person on my way home. Everything is so quiet and peaceful. Even before I worked as a croupier, I've always been more of a nocturnal person. If I was upset about anything and couldn't sleep, I used to get up in the middle of the night, and wander round the empty streets thinking to myself.

It's an incredible feeling. In the 28 Days Later when the main character is wandering round an empty London at the beginning of the movie, I wondered what it would be like, and find that there's nobody at all in your city. It would suck that everyone you know would be dead, but it would be so sweet that there wasn't anybody else about. The city is your playground. No more work, no more anything. Just exploring, playing, scavenging.


Damn I wish that was me. And it was real.

I'm not too hot on the idea of a city full of zombies though. A few zombies I could live with, slow moving and stupid, if you please. I don't want groups of the motherfuckers running me down and eating me, thank you. I think I'd pillage a few shops get myself some nice new motorbike leathers for protection (zombies will have trouble biting you through that!), with my bike gloves with kevlar knuckle protection, a crossbow, and a sharp sword. Of course if there weren't any shops nearby for that, I have all these items anyway, but it would be cool to get new shiny stuff! Oh wait, I lied, I don't have a crossbow. I'd have to go and get one of those.

The thing is, life is so complicated nowadays. No matter where you go, there will always be 'civilisation' close by and therefore you cannot truly escape the complication. Even if you live somewhere utterly remote like Mongolia, you cannot just live off the land and enjoy life. You still have to think about earning money by faming or whatever. Gone are the times where you could be truly self sufficient.

There's so much bad in the world, and things are just getting crazier. I can see the divide between rich and poor becoming larger over time, so that eventually cities will wall them out. There are places in plenty of places round the world, including America and the US where the police just don't go anymore. Society is spiraling out of control the more crowded it gets. Governments try to get a grip by introducing more and more laws and guidelines to follow. We're all just sheep. Everything is difficult, life requires more and more maintenance. If I'm not working, there's always something else I should be doing, from sorting bills and paperwork, to ringing round to sort out new house/bike/other insurance. Just as an example, Insurance companies used to give you a cheaper policy every year, just for your loyalty. Now the cost goes up per year, and it's impossible to get a cheaper quote without the hassle.

Everything seems to be going this way. I don't watch the news, listen to the radio, or read newspapers, because it just makes me angry. People are stupid. Is it any great surprise a 2 year old toddler, left to play on the street in Devonport (a fairly rough area) with his 5 year old sister is found with puncture marks in his hand after finding and playing with a needle. It made front page news in the paper I only bought so I could look for somewhere to live.

Surely someone should be asking why the mother left her two young children to play alone on the street? Is it any wonder they grow up to be scumbags? I honestly believe that there should be some form of licensing for children. The Chinese have the right idea. If you have one child, everything is free, schooling, healthcare, the whole schebang. However, if you have more than one child, you either get no benefits for the new child, or they take them away entirely, meaning you have to pay for it all yourself. No longer would you have chav scumbags having 5 kids to claim the extra benefits.


One thing that worries me slightly is when I do a search on Google Images for Earth's Destruction, this is the second picture that comes up.

My mother was a job centre employee, and is a probation officer, and although I don't think I've seen her for well over a year now, she has told me of many cases where people really do have more children, just so they can get more benefits. What they don't realise is that although they are getting a lot of money (one woman gets about forty grand a year in benefits and a house for her 8 kids!), it doesn't actually cover the entire cost of looking after the kids. All they see is new trainers and stuff, and the child gets neglected, and grows up to be scum, like so many in our current society unfit to be called human.
Unfortunately for them, it's not really their fault. Social conditioning has made them what they are. Granted, they are probably inferior people anyway, as the majority of them are stupid. If brains were dynamite they'd have trouble blowing their own noses.

However, this is just a stereotype, obviously the odd good egg breaks the mould and gets away. I myself didn't have the best upbringing, but I turned out ok, I guess! A little scatty perhaps...

But these are just examples summed up in a nice tangent. Society is going nuts, we live in a false democracy, and we fill our lives with stuff. I like stuff. I am a consumer whore. However, I don't have a lot else, so I follow the path, like a good sheep. I dream of the day the apocalypse will come, and I can break away, and find out ho I really am. Until then, I may have to think up some plans of global domination/destruction. I have been called an evil genius on many occasions. I wonder who my arch nemesis would be?

Maybe instead I should go into politics. I've often thought I might be able to win the hearts of the people. But in this modern 'democracy' will that be enough? I really hate politicians with all their deceit and silver-tongued antics. Is it really so hard to answer a question truthfully? I mean come on, would it really kill your career to grow a spine and speak out?

I'd fucking do it, I'll tell you that much. But this could be my downfall. If I made it, would all politicians actually be expected to be truthful? That wouldn't bade well for the current lot. No doubt they'd try something to get rid of me.

Vote for Pedro, sorry, Ryan.

PS - America, I'm not a terrorist, I'm just exercising my freedom of speech. You know all about it, you're always harping on about your bloody rights. Just shut the fuck up and join the Kyoto Protocol you Nazi Pigs.

It's National Blog Day!

For me that is. Okay, so I may have just made that up. It could be a crime against the Queen, making up national holidays, but I'm so hardcore, I'm sure I can get away with it.

By this I mean that today is the chosen evening where I am actually going to sit down, and do some work on this site for a change. I'm gonna write a couple of posts, and then trickle them out to you, like vodka to a monkey dying of thirst.

You are the monkeys, in case there was any confusion.

Right then. Here's some pictures from my phone over the past month or so. I'll try to categorise them.

Home Life:


This is the last photo I took of my flatmate Mike before he moved out. This is also the only photo I have where he only has half a head.


Aku was very hungry this day. After trying to eat my hand at least five or six times (luckily he's not quite quick enough!) whilst feeding him two mice, even though I had them held by tongs, he then tried to get me again when I topped up his water. Crazy snake. I'm way too big to eat, and my kung fu would devastate him. Jive Sucka.


He certainly lives up to his name. Evil. Still, unfortunately, he will be getting a new owner soon. I'm moving flat, again, and the landlord of the new place has a massive phobia of snakes. As I knew I could find him a good home, I agreed to lose the snake.

The place I'm moving into is a 2 bed flat in a brand new building built by Barratt Homes on the site of Scott of the Antartic's Family home. It has 1 large bedroom with ensuite, and a secondary slightly smaller bedroom. A kitchen, a living/dining room and little balcony terrace big enough for a table and a couple of chairs. The landlords are gonna kit the place out with brand new Ikea furniture, and so I can get rid of all my old crappy stuff and make moving much easier. Although I am taking my 6 foot wide bed with me. Oh yes.


Ok, I know, I'm supposed to be eating more healthily, however everyone needs at break occasionally. I ate this pizza. It says on the label that it's a Super Pizza. It was right as well. I could barely fit the beast into the oven, and it's quite a big oven too. You'll be pleased to hear that it was most delicious. Mmmm... I feel hungry now....

Work Life:


This is Scott, a guy I work with. He crazy foo'.


My bike (black) made a friend in the work car park. The bike's owner is now working in Russia.


I don't know why my Boss' Boss has a red phone on the desk in his office. I tried to call Batman but he didn't pick up. He was probably out, buying groceries or something.


I don't know why my boss would have cufflinks with Laurel and Hardy on them. Thinking about it, I don't know why ANYONE would have Laurel and Hardy cufflinks. Now that I think, I'm not even sure there was a Laurel cufflink at all, which would make them Hardy cufflinks. Which Hardy, sorry, hardly seems like a good idea for cufflinks to me...

Other Stuff:


I have no idea who this is. I have no idea where this is. I have no idea when this is. I have no idea what I was doing at the time of this picture. Or how this photo got on my phone. Who is this scary individual, and where the hell was I?


Myself, along with Nate and Laura decided to make use of the good weather a couple of weeks ago and we went to the woods on the moors by a river to chill out and test my new hammock tent. I took a picture of a tree.


We had to make a river crossing to get to the ideal place. There wasn't anywhere to get across without potentially breaking something (like ourselves!) or without getting wet. It was almost like Lord of The Rings, except without hairy footed midgets and asthmatics on black horses.


The view from inside my hammock tent, and my feet. I didn't bother putting the weatherproof fly sheet over the top, as it was warm and sunny, and so it would have been a stupid idea, thank you. So just be quiet.


Laura, getting into the hammock. You get in through a slit in the bottom. You just stick your upper body into it, and then sit down. Once your legs are inside, your weight closes the slit. Hehehe. Slit. This is also more comfortable than a traditional hammock, as it has an asymmetrical axis so you can lie in a more comfortable position. I can't be arsed to explain it, so if you're intrigued or something, then go check out Hennessey Hammocks


It was really nice by the woods. We only say about five other people the whole day, and they were walking past on the path on the other side of the river. It was very peaceful, as you can see from the photo.
Throughout the day we kept hearing this loud plopping noise, as if someone was dropping big round rocks into the water. We couldn't quite work out where exactly the plopping was coming from, and it didn't happen very often, so we'd pretty much forgotten about it by the time it would happen again. It happened about 5 or 6 times over the course of the day, and we couldn't work out what it was.
I laughed and said it was probably dancing trout.

Towards the end of the day, Nate and I had begun to occupy ourselves by chucking stones at various things like the fence post on the other side of the river (we hit that more times than expected actually!) various trees, rocks sticking out the water, all sorts. We saw a can of Kronenberg beer under the water, and we set about hitting that with stones. Suddenly, right in our line of sight, a huge fish leapt out of the river, maybe 5 or 10 meters away from us. It kinda wallowed in the air before 'plopping' back into the water. It had seemed to hang in the air for ages, and the sheer size of thing was amazing. I reckon it had to have been about 2 feet long. We all went "Wooooaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" all at the same time, as all three of us were looking right at it. So it turns out I was right about 'dancing trout', although I was joking at the time!


The other day I was in town. The Frenchies had invaded, and brought their wares to sell in stalls on the streets in town. A guy on a home made mini-chopper parked next to me, and I got talking to him about it. It used to be a vespa. A fat French guy with a fuzzy moustache came up and started talking to me and the owner of the chop. I made polite conversation although I didn't really know what he was saying. Mind you, by the look of his wine stained broken artery red nose, I doubt he did either.

That's it for now munchkins. I'm knackered and the words are starting to become a bit fuzzy on screen. This makes it difficult to proofread, and as I like to get my grammar at least half right this is a must. Besides that, I'll have some more material for next time now!

I'll post again tomorrow or Wednesday, I still have loads of things to talk about, as per usual.

Later!

Ps - sorry for the lack of humour, this one's kinda informative I guess. Tell you what gimme a topic or a random question, and I'll do my best to come up with some interesting answers. I might even write a true story, like I did with the Penguins.

Why does spaghetti bolognaise make you feel a bit sick if you eat it at 9am?

Hmmmm..... I wonder?