unlucky.

Isn't it ironic? As soon as you sharpen your knife you're bound to slice your thumb open?

Ouch. Typing is not easy at the moment so I'll have to keep this brief.

Good weekend with Friends up in Llangollen who are getting married before us so we had the marriage chat on an equal footing which was nice. Watched Patriot Games, There's a reason that film is seen as a classic, had a curry and chilled, barbeque on the sunday in the pouring rain which was always fun.

Oh in friday we got the bongos out and hooked them up to the Wii which was just too much fun.

Anyway more later no doubt.

Travelblog:McDs

They've finally refitted the McDonalds in town. After twenty something years the crap faux nautical theme has been replaced by a dark green/midgreen/deep orange combo. Its achingly hip for those whose ideas of hip is a retro seventies design and sixties style chairs. In fact i was surprised not to see beanbags in the corner.

What's always struck me about places like this is they look great, but only without people in them.

As soon as actual humans, with their clashing colours and irregular curves enter into this pristine space the effect is ruined. These designs are there to be photographed and admired, not lived in.

The food is, of course, staggeringly mediocre. Like an impersonation of tasty without actually being so.

I wouldn't actually be here if i didn't need to be in town and nowhere else was open. But I seem to use that excuse a little too regularly!

Notes From...

I don't know what this obsession I had with cramming as many words into a sentence as I could. I think I was trying to over compensate in some way as if sentences aren't sentences without three separate propositions in them.

 

I needed to learn simple sentences are good.

 

Like that one.

 

Our own contempt for the familiar is a recurring theme in my life. It takes something special to drag us out of the norm and see a familiar thing in a fresh light.

 

 

 

The 'rainbows' quote is actually what someone said to me after I met a random girl in a random bar. I never saw her again but the phrase really stuck with me.

 

 

Notes from the road 9

Chapter 9

 

Dog sensed it before the rest of us, with his enhanced damp nose working overtime as we rose higher and higher into the mountains on the outskirts of the desert we had just crossed. He rose from being curled up on the seat to full attention in a second and started sweeping his tail in excitement, paws up on the dashboard.

 

"What's wrong ?" I asked as Madison tried to stop his tail from sweeping her face.
"Don't know. Something's got him interested though," She replied pulling dog down onto the seat to try and calm him.

 

As we crested the hill my breath caught in my throat, beneath us the valley stretched below us crammed with the deepest most verdant greenery I had ever seen. We had been encountering sparse vegetation for the last few miles whilst climbing this mountain but nothing compared to the lush landscape laid out before us.

 

Bran pulled over and we all piled out to gaze down at the scenery below. The trees covered every surface with just the thin trace lines of a road here and there like black trace work on a green sheet of muslin. The sun was shining down and aside from the occasional car shooting past we had the view all to ourselves.

 

"Do you think they know what they're missing?" said Madison, one nut-brown arm draped languidly across her eyes. She and I were perched up on the bonnet of the truck lying against the hot windscreen.

 

I looked around us at the totally unoccupied space. "Who?"

 

"These people," The arm waved vaguely in the direction of the road upon which the cars roared past that we had turned off. "Driving past this amazing view without even slowing down to look twice. Like it doesn't matter. Like its not important."

 

"Over familiarity breeds contempt," Bran said standing with his broad back to us, keeping an eye on the over excited Dog who was racing around the flat space clearly glad to be out of the confines of the car and having different scents to chase after.

 

She lowered her sunglasses at him.

 

"Hunh?"

 

I took a deep breath. "What I believe my monosyllabic friend means is that if you see this kind of beauty everyday you have to become immured to it. Otherwise it would be as stunning as it is to us right now and you'd never have the time to do anything except gawp."

 

"Hmmm," She raised her sunglasses " So you wouldn't want to stop and smell the roses if that was the only scent you encountered everyday. Even true beauty would loose its pallor."

 

"Crazy fools," I said, stretching against the warmth of the sun on metal "There are some things of beauty I could never grow tired of ."

 

"Anyone particular in mind?" She asked teasingly, a bright flash of a smile lighting her face.

 

"Could be," I mused pretending to consider it. " Could be."

 

She punched me playfully in the arm and slid off of the bonnet to chase around with Dog.

 

Bran looked at me searchingly while she found a stick in the dirt and threw it.

 

"What?"

 

His heavy expression never changed.

 

"I see rainbows between you two," and without waiting to justify himself he turned back to the dog-versus-woman tug of war over the stick.

 

-------------------------------------------

 

We drove into the valley after the sun had set and the chill air had surrounded us again. I was still musing over Bran's perceptiveness when we he decided to pull into a Motel for the night.

 

Travelblog : Keith Hannon RIP

Today is the years aniversary of one of my work colleagues death.

He was someone I spent every working day with for two years but i never got really close to. We had endless conversations about league versus union and he knew EVERYTHING about Hull RFC.

He literally dropped dead in front of me 365 days ago and his death was real and imedeate in a way all my previous experiences were not.

I miss his mannerisms his sayings and his proffesionalism.

So we're here on the beach eating burgers and raising a glass to a man we all wish we'd got to know better.

Rest in peace Keith, wherever you are I know the Hull faithfull are singing.

bleurgh

Was really really ill on Sunday for no readily apparent reason and am still feeling rather dodgy even now. In times of stress or pain I turn into an uber-geek so if you actually have a social life you may wish to skip the rest of the post.

I'm sure everyone and his dog has now seen THIS but it still got me pretty excited. I love the idea of doing the Joker in a totally different direction. No-one can out Nicholson Nicholson, even if you've based your whole career on it.

Slater! I'm looking at you!

Having a Joker that's part Bansky part Mark Thomas and part Ted Bundy I think is a stroke of genius and can't wait to see what Chris 'Memento' Nolan comes up with.

In other news I have resurrected my old laptop purely in order to play this game. Its a ten year old Xcom clone set in the Warhammer universe and I simply love it. There are better games there are more involving games but this one simply takes the picnic for me.

I've made a pact with myself not to buy any books, DVDS, games or any of the other ephemera that I fill my life with until after the wedding and as such I've actually been replaying/ rereading /relistening to stuff that I wouldn't have otherwise bothered with.

Its quite weird how much STUFF we simply seem to accumulate without really realising it. I need a purge I think.

remakes of movies.

I am about to swear so let me make this perfectly clear;

F**K the remake of The Long good friday. That movie is totally perfect as it is. Bob Hoskins is awesome as the mob boss losing his hold and losing his grip on the empire he founded. His measured performance as he sees his life disappear before him is one of British cinemas crowning achievements.

The film that needs a remake is 'Pump up the Volume. Starring Christian Slater as an illegal shock Jock on his own homebrew radio station it still gives me chills, in a good way.

Its talks about the freedom of speech and the right of teenagers to get screwed up and say what they actually mean not what they are expected to say by the rest of society.

In this age when anyone anywhere can publish whatever they want and broadcast whatever they feel on the interweb isn't it time for a net generation version of this movie? A rallying call for saying how you actually feel and how life is actually a lot more sucky than TV would have you belive.

Start the petition today!

Man Utd 0 Chelsea 1

And THAT is why I stopped watching football.

I've never needed a nap more in my life including the baseball game I had to sit through.

I couldn't actually of cared less who won just as long as it ended and soon!

Anyway, the beer and cooked meat compensated at least a little bit.

But not much.

The Crimea

THE CRIMEA FREE ALBUM

May I recommend the above as they do have some fairly good tunes and they are the first well established band to release their album for free over the old inter-web-net.

Bombay Saphire Coma is particularly good track, Bombay Saphire being a brand of gin my brother actually introduced me to.

See?! There's themes and layers and sub-texts to this blog, its not all randomness and swearing!

Anyway download the album, support the New!

Happy Birthday Bro!

Happy birthday to you,
I went to the Zoo,
I saw a big monkey,
and thought it was you.

'Trad. playground anonymous'


Its my Big Bros birthday today, which as usual either coincides with exams or the FA cup final. In fact I distinctly remember when his birthday was on the Saturday of the cup final and he invited all his friends to our house for the traditional jelly and ice cream (I think we were about 8-ish) and he had set the TV room up so that all the fans of the two different teams sat opposite each other in a parody of the terraces. I'm happy to report there was no violence maybe just a smidgen of banter and a modicum of singing!

Most of my parents stories about us kids growing up revolve around Jane or I getting into trouble or managing to do exactly the wrong thing for the right reasons. Their stories about Phil are different but not in a bad way.

He had and has the most strongly developed sense of right and wrong that I think I've ever encountered. Think Cyclops from the xmen or Sturm from Dragonlance. Definatly not the worst example for a young kid with tendancies towards stupidity to grow up with.

So happy birthday big bro, may there be many more.




(Normal non-sentimental service will be resumed shortly.)

...And we're back

Hooray!

sorry for the recent lack of updates. I've ben busy as a beaver who hasn't filed has tax return OR rebuilt that damn dam, with work and when that all calmed down thursday time blogger decided it would very kindly only publish the title and labels for posts and not the main body of the text.

My inane ramblings of the past few days are lost forever!

And yet, somehow, we will learn to cope.

Went to pick Em up from a works do in the pub late yesterday evening. Its not often I walk into a pub after half eleven totally sober. Its a scary place, I don't know how you teetotalers do it. The bouncer opened the door and let me in with a look of either pity or distain I couldn't work out which and I plunged into the sweaty throng. The smoke may have gone but the strench of old beer and wasted friday night dreams still hangs heavy in the air which was puntucated by glares and stares of all sorts in my direction.

As I walked around I was jostled and barged around which is normally fine after a pint or two but it felt really personal last night. I found Ems table and stood their for a while but you know when everyone else is on one sort of vibe, happy and joking and you're totally oposite I could feel I was bringing them down so I belive the journalistic phrase is 'I made my excuses and left.'

Its always surprising how much of a mood alterer alchol is especially making you much more social than you would be under normal circumstances.

Anyways busy day today with the FA cup barbeque today. Don't get me wrong I don't particularly care about football but burgers and beer I can get passionate about.

more later

blogger seems to be taking a mental vacation. Meanwhile here is some music.......

argh.

It's wee Jimmy Kranky!

Good weekend where I got the suit fitted for the wedding, I think shiny lime green with a pink shirt topped off with a zebra skin top hat and yellow pimp cane will really help me stand out.

Actually its a little less flouncy than that and I ruled out top hats as a) I look a twit in them b) I don't need any help in being tall.

So I got us all fitted up in about 15 mins and went for a pint in my old local. It was weird walking into a pub I haven't visited in about seven years and nothing had changed. The decor and smelly old men drinking were exactly the same. Only the barmaid had changed, same girl but now looking so much older. Is that how I look to people I haven't seen in years? that tired aged look around the eyes?

From there it went rapidly downhill to watching Eurovision on the couch supplied by good beer and cheap pizza.

Eurovision was kind of odd for me it was my first time watching the entire process from bottom clenchingly bad songs through the awkward stunted presenters attempts at humour and obscure and tortuous voting amalgamation process right out to the tearful acceptance speech and yet another performance of the 'winner'.

What surprises me the most though was not the crap entry from the Ukraine or Belarus but the useless UK entry.

We have a music scene which has brought up some of the greatest music of all time through the Beatles and stones right through to Lilly Allen and (Who else can I mention to sound contemporary?) Bloc Party.

Why is the best music we can produce for this contest be Scooch?

There was a rumour that Morrissey would enter this year and it set my little smiths-loving heart ablaze.

Morrissey genuinely couldn't give two stuffs what people think/thought of him and having that larcymose cynical knowing humour amongst the crap pop and soulless dirges of the other 23 finalists would have been a breath of fresh air.

And yes I am well aware that it wouldn't matter who was playing for the UK we'd still get shafted due to our involvement in Iraq or some other current spurious reason.

But for Morrissey you see it would be the latest in a long line of disappointments and heartbreaks. He'd smile, shuffle slowly off and write the most amazing song about how it felt.

End of Season.

No more rugby.

No more rushing home on a Friday to catch the highlights of the weeks games.

No more RBS podcasts listing the errors and woes of your team.

No more last minute penalties and desperate drives for the line.

No more dancing feet, up and unders or pressured scrums.

No more hero's no more villains.

No more chants, songs or hymns.

No more heart stopping moments or TV referrals.

No more questioning the lineage or vision of the ref.

(Until September, when the World Cup starts.)

Notes From...

I like the ideas in this one if the execution of those ideas falls below ideal tolerance levels.

I love the quest idea, the idea of being on the road for the express purpose of being on the road.

Weird stuff always happens when you travel even if at the time it seems really mundane. Strapping oneself into an aluminium tube to be flung across the globe is darn odd when you think about it. And the fact they try to supplant your deep-seated fear of bursting into flames at 30000 feet with a small bag of salted nuts is just surreal.

Driving cross country is the most romantic way to travel when the roads aren't clogged. I love driving on the small byways that are devoid of traffic and letting other vehicle pass by by pulling over and waiting until the road is empty again before continuing on. I'm a bit weird that way.


And the curse of the 'final sentence of shite' still rings true. Trying to round a piece off with a snippet or sound bite just makes it sound awful. Its only in recent fiction I've been able to finish fiction off in a reasonable way that doesn't cause me to physically gag when I read it back a week or a month later.

Notes from the Road 8

Chapter 8


We kept heading straight north with the sun blinding us from the right hand sky in the morning and striking us dumb with its colours when setting in the left. I had never seen anything like it until I got out to the deep desert. There with such a wide horizon stretching around us the whole sky seemed to be burning in a sea of liquid fire.

It was late on at night but we were still motoring, looking for a cheap but clean motel. Several nights of camping out under the stars had convinced us that once in a while (but not too often) it was worth paying the meagre bill for a room in return for fresh sheets and a long soak in the tub. Not to mention my guilty pleasure of a little bad TV.

Dog, as we unimaginatively named him was in the back of the truck having stayed with us in spite of Bran's laconic objection.

"Don't like dogs."

"I always saw you as more of a cat man" I said unwrapping a fresh pack of smokes from the glove box.

"Don't like cats either."

Madison, sitting in the middle as always, turned to see dog lying in the middle of the flatbed as we roared along. He had spent most of his trip with us, head hanging over the side in the oncoming wind as dog are want to do.

"He must be cold out there, why can't he ride inside with us? There's plenty of room."

She moved her hips deliciously sideways into mine to create the dog sized space on the seat. Bran, unmoved, said nothing and glared ahead as if the tarmac was the source of his irritation. Madison moved slightly back away from me but not all the way.

I lit two smokes and passed one to Madison. We drove on in silence for a while, the roaring of the road like a gentle benediction on us. I didn't want the dog to come between us unless it meant Mad squeezing up to me again.

"It's not like we can take him back," I said. Bran glared at me. "Well okay, we could take him back but we'd have to go totally in the wrong direction, back on ourselves. Then find that kid and give him the dog back. and how do you know he won't chase after us again? He chose to join us. I think we should respect Dogs wishes."

"C'mon Bran. He's a real sweetheart." Chimed in Madison. "And he's taken a real shine to you."

This wasn't just idle flattery, Dog had decided that Bran was the alpha male in this little gathering and was treating him as his master even though Bran tried to have as little to do with him as possible.

We rounded a corner and in the dying light saw the road stretching out before us with no sign of habitation in the whole valley. Our dreams of a soft bed and hot bath that night died then and there.

"We'll sleep here tonight" Said Bran pulling off the side of the road in a little area surrounded by the bush.

"Great." I said "Another night of rice and beans. Just what I needed." Our supplies, whilst large in volume were somewhat lacking in variety

As we pulled to a stop Dog leapt over the back gate and ran around to the drivers side door to greet Bran as he exited the truck. He barked excitedly and Bran, as ever, ignored him whilst getting his bedroll from the back.

"You're not afraid of dogs are you?" Asked Madison reaching for her own pack.

Bran paused and gazed upon her with such intensity at what he regarded as a challenge to his manhood. If it had been anyone else apart from this striking tall blonde that dared to ask such a question I think we would have seen a different side of Bran. A darker, violent one that remains hidden most of the time but can surface in uncomfortable moments.

He studied her face, saw there was no insult intended and backed down placing his bedroll on the ground in a little clearing.

"No. I'm not afraid. I just don't trust animals that's all."

"Yeah." I added trying pathetically to lighten the mood "A hamster tried to scam me on a share deal once, wasn't pretty."

"I'll get some firewood." I said in response to their glares and started off up the hill, hearing Bran's heavy tread following me.

"I'll look after the truck then shall I?" Madison called after us whilst holding Dog back by his rope collar to stop him charging after Bran.

The air was very cold that night and temperature dropped even further whilst we both silently searched for firewood. I didn't want to intrude on my friends heavy thinking. I remembered how quickly he had made the decision to dump Pancho by the side of the road and hoped he wouldn't reach the same conclusion about Dog. If he abandoned the Dog then Madison would probably stay with the canine, I knew that much about her. And if Madison left, would I go too?

"I know what you're thinking. " He said. "You're wondering if I'm going to abandon the dog."

I was too startled to blurt out a denial as he continued.

"I wouldn't do that to anything or anyone that didn't deserve it. Pancho warranted it, he nearly killed us. The dog has yet to do me wrong but, mark me, it puts a paw wrong and it'll be on the road, alone, before you can blink. And if that means she goes too, well, so be it."

He turned on his heel, arms full of good burnable driftwood and headed back to the camp. I followed him silent our roles reversed for once he the verbose one and I the thoughtful brooding near mute. Could I abandon my travelling companion for the sake of a woman I barely knew? When it came to it, as I was sure it eventually would, how would I react? Could I choose loyalty over lust/love? I just didn't know.

We came back to find Madison and dog sitting in the truck listening to the radio. His head was on her lap and he perked up considerably when he saw Bran striding down the trail towards him.

Dog jumped out of the truck and walked at Bran's heels as he carried the firewood to the centre of the clearing. Dog stopped in mid tread, sniffing the air around him as his hackles rose like the cocking of a gun. He started to growl, a low roaring noise that sounded as if it should come from a much bigger animal.

"What's wrong boy?" Said Madison walking over from the truck but dogs attention was firmly fixed on Bran's back. Bran dropped the firewood and looked from looked from the Dog to me as if to say 'I told you so' as dog launched himself forward, fangs bared and
claws ready to rend and tear any opposition apart. I had never seen such a strong quick change from love to hate before in the animal kingdom. He had gone from loving Bran unconditionally to trying to eviscerate him in less than ten seconds. In fact if I didn't know better I'd say he was human.

Bran turned to try to catch dog in the air as the four legged fury roared towards and then past him landing with his snout firmly buried in Bran's bedroll. He stared to violently thrash the blanket around shaking the thing free of its strap revealing a rattlesnake which had embedded itself in the warmth of Bran's wrap. Bran had been standing directly between the dog and it prey. The three of us, hearts still racing from Dogs apparent treachery and the revealing of his true target, could only watch as the Dog and snake faced off against each other.

The snake hissed and rattled its telltale tail, darting out for Dog who with a nimbleness that surprised us all, snatched up the snake in his strong quick jaws behind its neck and flung the creature all around like a puppy with a chew toy until he was sure it was dead and dropped it at the stunned Bran's feet.

Bran bent down slowly and put his hand on Dogs head as if the action caused him physical pain.

"Good. Boy." he said as dogs tail thumped upon the ground.

"So I'm thinking, Motel tonight." Said Madison from her position cowering behind the truck. It was a harsh reminder that there are all sort of beasts in the wild and when you sleep in natures boudoir you can't expect to snooze alone.

-----

We drove on with Madison sleeping gently on my shoulder and Dogs head on Bran's knee. He looked at me and I at him and I knew that Dog would be with us until the end now, wherever and whenever that may be.

Paris Hilton and the Pink Mile.

Paris Hilton is very probably one of my least favourite people.

She represents all that is venal and superficial about people in general and celebrity in particular.

She not only delights in her shallowness and stupidity she positively revels in it making her own small fortune from her derivative line of clothes and perfumes.

It would be fair to say whilst I didn't exactly gloat when she was sentenced to forty five days in jail I wasn't actually thinking 'Poor dear, I hope she'll be alright.'

If you're caught driving drunk with a suspended license and then you violate the terms of your parole you are going to jail.

You've been given the chance to behave and then you break the rules again you are going to be punished for it.

(Of cause now I've got the words 'Paris Hilton' and 'Punishment' in the same post I'm going to get all the wrong sort of Google searches coming to this site!)

So when your friend starts an internet petition to get you off claiming that she 'She provides beauty and excitement to (most of) our otherwise mundane lives' you start to wonder if we just have totally lost it as a civilisation.

She HAS to be punished for this. Not because I dislike her intently but because the lesson that most people have to learn at some time or another is that when it comes your time you have to pay the piper.

Its not like she's going to be sent to Shawshank to scrub floors and share a cell with 'Big Marge' if Jeffery Archer can get through prison time in this country then she should be able to cope. . She'll be sent to a soft jail with someone paid to look after her and I wouldn't be surprised if she was kept totally separate from the general population. Her fame makes her an easy target and no one wants any harm to actually come to her.

Just tell her its a new edition of the Simple Life and follow her around with a camera crew. She'll be giving style tips and makeover to all the girls on B wing before you know it.

She may actually emerge from this experience a little bit humbler realising that she's been blessed not to have to live the life that forced the other inmates to be there.

Probably not though. Although her next perfume could be called 'Violation'.

weekend

Had a good bank holiday weekend in which I variously;

Put up a tent;
Attended a Christening where none of the God parents or in fact the parents normally go to church;
Drank an okay bottle of white and a superb bottle of red wine (not on the same night);
Feel asleep not once, not twice but three times during three separate games of televised snooker;
Fired a fully automatic air rifle replica of an M16 at some pesky cans;
Dusted and hoovered (ain't I domesticated?)
Walked around Denbighshire's latest waste of cash, The west end Drift park (nothing to do with drifting cars I'm afraid)
Had chips and gravy for two separate lunches;
Made the worlds finest spaghetti bolognaise;
Read about 5 years continuity of Xmen comics (my secret weakness);
But most importantly...

FINISHED MY ESSAY!


So there should be no more posting about how crap essays and work are as its over. At least until I get my results in a few weeks.

How was yours?

Smoking and Imbecility

So, the smoking ban has hit Wales and already the pubs are much more pleasant places to be. Smokers cluster together outside enjoying the sunshine, us non smokers gather together in the rarified atmosphere and enjoy the free and easy use of our lungs.

As an ex-smoker I've always tried not to become one of those evangelical reformists who, having turned from the dark side, feels the need to spread the good word.

Mainly because they're all bastards.

Smoking is a real addiction and giving up is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

I'm afraid, non-smokers, that tutting and shaking your head thing? only firms the resolve of the smoker to continue smoking. It's not a habit, it's a physical and mental compulsion that must be fought and overcome. With all the good will in the world, fake coughing and wagging your finger isn't going to make anyone stop smoking.

Well, They might stop long enough to put their cigarette out in your eye but they'll light another one up afterwards.

Which is why when someone you work closely with makes a concerted effort and gives up for a month you feel proud of them because you know how hard that first month was.

However when they subsequently start again after having broken the addiction, because they 'put on a few pounds' you feel like slapping them.

Lung cancer or bigger pants? You would have though it was an easy choice.

So I recommended she try heroin as you've never seen a fat skaghead have you? Pete Dougherty looks skinny on his crack pipe diet (Although he does have a couple of skittles every other week,) maybe she should try that.

Scary what people can talk themselves into to avoid something they don't really want to do.

Sunny Day

Yet another gorgeous day here in Rhyl. A couple more like this and we'll actually be allowed to keep the tag 'Sunny' Rhyl. 'Scummy' Rhyl is more appropriate but I'll leave that for another day.

I keep getting these odd whiffs of random smells that are triggering off the old memory banks. One is the smell of the Bar I worked in when I lived in Liverpool. It's some particular type of cleaner they used to get the Stella/cocktail crap off the floors at the end of the night mixed in with old beer and cheap ciggies.

I was going to send you to the home page but it's a flash monstrosity that I think is best avoided.

Why I can smell that particular smell today is totally beyond me but it is a reminder of happy days making cocktails, flirting with the customers and staying afterhours for a few bevvies ourselves.

We stayed up one saturday to watch the late night boxing and I drank so much I woke up in Milton Keynes Train Station. Apparantly I'd got it into my head to see a girl I knew in Bath and no-one at the bar could stop me or rather could be bothered to.

Anyways lots of characters lots of fun and a fair amount of drinking, thats what a bar job should be about!

Hmmm

Right. Which bastard decided that May the first would be the most beautiful day in the history of mankind? Why is the sun shining when I'm stuck in a room away from the sun bathing in the cold glow of the VDU whilst the rest of the world is buying ice creams and wearing ill advised speedos on the beach? Why is the Gordian knot of a question I'm trying to write an essay answer to, wriggling away from me with the lithe rapidity of a young snake? Why am I blogging AGAIN when I should be answering the goddamn essay question?

Actually thats easy, I've just had a five minute break to go outside and curse those fortunate enough to have nothing to do today and bloggin helps get the fingers typing in the right direction.

Enjoy the day.

Day off - sort of.

Work have been kind enough to give me a study day for this course that is sapping the lifeblood from my veins. When I finish the damn thing I'll be like a wrinkled old prune, brought old by the sheer weight of inanity that is held with the course structure. If I pass I'll be quite happy though.

So I'm home. And over the course of the next 8 hours I have to polish the steaming turd that is my essay in its current form into a glistening golden answer, taut muscle rippling beneath its gleaming..... Sorry. Seem to have lost track there for a second.

But yeah, I'll be here all day trying desperately not to get distracted by the thousand and one fascinating things I've left lying about the house like landmines of interesting just waiting to go off and drag my attention away.