Notes from the road 12

 

Chapter 12

 

Sounds of laughter and music emanated out of the house like radio waves broadcasting into the night. The suburban street was lit only by the faintly yellow streetlights and their reflections from the still wet tarmac below them. Aside from the house of noise it was a quiet little suburb in a quiet little corner of a quiet little town in a medium-boring state. Nothing, good or bad, ever seemed to happen here and as in most places Youth (with a capital Y) had to make its own fun.

 

For Vicki, Lola and Rachel being 15 this mostly involved going around to each others houses, laughing at bad TV and discussing the pressing school issues of the day. Too cool for the geeks and no where near pretty enough to be popular, they surfed the high school wave of invisibility, safe in their anonymity.

 

It was a hot Friday night in June when the air seems to prickle with the promise of something greater just around the next corner. They were sitting in the front room with all the windows open and the TV blaring out the latest marketing campaign disguised as music video. This one involved a new-wave punk band, too young to have sex, playing on a beach surrounded by impossibly attractive women in silver-sliver bikinis.

 

"As if!" Scoffed Lola, self consciously bringing her knees up to her chest on the couch.

 

"Fake band playing a fake song on a fake beach surrounded by fake women with fake tits," Opined Vicki "The only thing that's real is my hatred and loathing for all of them."

 

"Get a load of you!" exclaimed Rachael doing an impression of Vicki's self righteous face "Its just a crappy song, don't get so tangled about it."

 

"I'm not getting tangled, I'm just bemoaning the state of 'pop' music today. It meant to be our generation right? Its meant to reflect our hopes and desires, not some fat bald sweaty chairman's thoughts on what the youth market wants."

 

Lola leaned forward on the couch to grab a handful of popcorn.

 

"So what do we want? What's representative of our doomed generation apart from teenage pregnancy, bad music and capitalism run amok?"

 

"Cynicism?"

 

"Ha Ha."

 

The beach song finished and the next video came on. It was your usual rap video crap about how nice to was to go to a club, sell drugs, shoot the guy you sold them to, smoke the drugs you've just stolen from his corpse and beat up a hooker on the way to another club. It was so bad it was beneath even the Invisibles contempt and so did not warrant comment.

 

The house was Vicki's mums here she'd lived  ever since she was born. It wasn't large but with just the two of them there since her Dad left, it was comfortable and had enough space for a sleep over. Her mum was out with Tim again and probably wouldn't get back for another couple of hours when she'd come in and make them all cinnamon toast and hot chocolate with marshmallows before going to bed.

 

"So, " said Lola with a wicked glint in her eye "You want to get high?"

 

Rachael and Vicki stared at her.

 

"What?"
 
"Get high? You know? Puffing the L? Lighting up a sweet doobie? Smoking up the 'erb? Taking hits from the bong?

 

"Yes we understood what you meant we just couldn't believe you meant it Lo."

 

Lo smiled.

 

"Why not? Because I'm too sweet and innocent?"

 

"Only comparatively sweet and not at all innocent," Chimed in Rachael "You've known Vic far too long for that."

 

"Hey!" said Vic with a grin "That'd be quite offensive if it wasn't true."

 

"I couldn't believe you meant it because you only ever talk to us and we aren't selling." said Rachael moving closer to Lola on the couch "Who did you get it from?"

 

"Just this guy I know." Lola tried to look casual as if the TV still held her attention but inside she was thrumming, desperate to tell all.

 

Rachael and Vic shared a look, their interest piqued as they continued their questioning.

 

"This guy? You don't know any 'guys' ! Who is he?"

 

"Just a guy, in French class."

 

Vic jumped up and began in her best acting voice,
"Their eyes met across a declined verb. She could feel the weight of his pronouns as he began to speak..."

 

Rachael fell about laughing whilst Lola started to turn a further shade of red.
"Its not like that. He just sold me some weed, that's all there is to it."

 

"What's his name?"

 

"Not telling."

 

"Well if you won't give up his name there must be more of a story!"

 

"There isn't. I barely know him, he just asked if I wanted some dope and I said yes. That's all there was too it."

 

Vic pulled up short in her gentle mocking
"Hang on, he asked?"

 

"What?"

 

"He asked if you wanted some weed?"

 

"Yeah. So?"

 

"Let me take a look at the bag"

 

Wordlessly Lola handed over a small plastic pouch filled to bursting with chopped herb.   Vicki opened it and took a long smell like a wine connoisseur identifying a particularly obscure vintage. The other two looked on in breathless anticipation.

 

She opened her eyes and looked straight at her.

 

"Sorry Lola its the oldest trick in the book. What you've got here is a particularly fine blend of oregano."

 

Lola snatched the bag back from her spilling some of the now worthless contents on the floor.

 

"How would you know?" she snapped. "You're no expert!"

 

"Smoke it and get ill then, but I know dope and that is not it."

 

Lola looked gutted.

 

"I should really have known, one moment I don't exist the next second he's super friendly like he's selling me something special."

 

"Yeah, men can be a bit like that." Replied Rachael "At least you didn't fuck him for it."

 

All three started laughing.

 

"Look," Said Vicki " I can show you something but you've got to promise not to tell."

 

"Okay."

 

"I'm in"

 

They walked through into Vic's mums bedroom which was decorated in a very plain Mexican style with a poncho hung on one wall as a decoration and a lakeside scene on the other. The furniture was as Spartan as the room, except for the bed which took up most of the far wall.

 

Vic walked up to the huge bed and reached under it to pull out a large dark rosewood box. She placed it on the bed itself and the friends could all see the concentric circle pattern carved deep into the lid.

 

She looked at both her friends who were silent realising the magnitude of what they were about to see. With a little flourish Vick flung back the lid and began shuffling through the items contained within. There was her Mums wedding veil and long neglected rosary but she was looking for something on the other end of the moral scale.

 

"I know about weed," Said Vicki building up to a triumphal finish "Because," She held up her prize "My mum smokes it!".

 

She was brandishing a sandwich bag with a small amount of brown leaf clustered in one corner  more damming however was the well used wooden hash pipe inside the baggie.

 

The girls looked vaguely disappointed.

 

"I was expecting a couple of ounces worth at least!" Said Lola.

 

"Yeah at least enough to steal a little bit!" Added Rachael."

 

"I think my mums hippie days of smoking are well over." said Vic," She's had the same amount in there ever since I knew about it."

 

"So," Lola said, the pain of an original thought slowing her speech and furrowing her brow "If we swapped the real stuff for the Oregano ..."

 

"She'd never notice!" finished Rachael beaming down on the dubious looking Vic.

 

"I don't know," Said Vic, slowly "Its a bit of a risk..."

 

-------

 

One careful replacement of herbs and application of a bic lighter later the girls were sitting with the box back in the lounge feeling a lot more relaxed about the whole situation.

 

 Rachael who had for the last ten minutes been stroking the still open inside of the rosewood box said

 

"What's this box within a box?"

 

Vic couldn't tear her gaze away from the test pattern on the TV
"Hunh?"

 

"This box within a box?"  Rachael said pulling out a miniature version of the rosewood box.

 

"Oh that." Said Vicki " I don't know I've never been able to get it open."

 

"I've seen one of these before," said Lola "give it here."

 

Reluctantly Rachael handed it over. It was roughly the size of a box of chocolates but felt quiet heavy for the actual size.

 

"Right, You've got to force the hinges on these things." Said Lola taking a strong grip on the box.

 

"Force it?" said Vic her eyes going wide "No no! No forcing! Gentle encouraging, yes. Forcing no!"

 

"Don't sweat it. I know what I'm doing!"

 

"I know what you're doing and I don't want you to do it! Stop"

 

"You want to know what's inside don't you?"

 

"No!"

 

Vic reached out towards Lola just in time to see her fumble and then drop the box. It spiralled down in slow motion catching the corner on the unyielding stone floor and breaking the lid off splitting the wood and spilling its contents under the sofa.

 

"What did you do? What did you do?"

 

"Vic. I'm really sorry." True regret burned dully in her friends eyes.

 

Vic glared at her and picked up the box and tried to start fitting it back together whilst Lola and Rachael started pick up the splinters scattered all over the floor.

 

"That's funny," Said  Rachael from under the bed.

 

"What?" Said Vic failing to see the funny side of anything at the moment.

 

"The only thing that was in the box was this book," She replied holding aloft an aged well thumbed paperback.

 

"Is it porn?" Asked the suddenly interested Lola looking up from behind the side table.

 

"I don't think so. Unless someone's idea of a horny title is 'Notes from the Road'."

 

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

 

My careering career

Morning!

Got a new job today and I'm all excited! Been waiting for the phonecall for a couple of days and been so nervous I couldn't actually write properly. I won't subject you to the graveyard of abandoned post. Needless to say grammar and form weren't really included in a post that simply would have read;

"Geeeeeeeeennnnnnnnaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyrrrrrrrrrr,!".

So, allowing for a physical, I'll be working for Conwy county council on their payroll. For those unfamilar with Conwy itself, its a walled town with a castle that was never meant to accomodate traffic. Hence my new commute will follow the road through the walled town and out the other side.

It looks a little like this and is astoundingly pretty.

Anyway still really happy.

England 62-5 Wales

No excuses. No talking around it. No questions. We. Got. Beasted.

England were a quality side ready and prepared for a genuine international. We looked like we'd been in the pub all morning and then emerged, blinking, into a packed Twickenham that just laughed at us.

The only thing that makes it worse is I now have to buy an English colleague lunch on friday as we put a small wager on the result.

bah.

Mad Capsule Markets

Japanese Metal with a strong punk influence?

Llion, this one's for you.

trouble afoot

I got into work today to find a load of new software on my and everyone elses PC with a note from a trusted guy in tech. Turns out management arent happy that people are growing their ebay empire in work time but rather than blocking the sites theyre noting which sites people goto and how often.

so whilst i might be able to explain a lunchtime visit to my email or news sites, blogger quests at 11 in the morning are a strict no no.

so future daytime posts might be a bit rushed!

response and responsibility

due to illness and holidays I've been in charge of the payroll for the last three days and quite frankly even though its quiet season its scary being ultimately responsible. I'm certainly not paid enough for what they're expecting and I don't think my manager is paid enough for her job!


Anyways aside from that everything's okay, the final preparations are going in for the wedding, I never realised when you see couples in deep and meaningful discussions about the colour of the bridesmaids dress EXACTLY matching that of the rose worn by the best man that its actually a displacement activity. If you're as well organised as I think you need to be, with this short amount of time to go, you'll do anything to avoid actually thinking about the wedding itself.

Reading that back it make it sound like I'm unsure about the wedding and I'm not. Its just everything is getting a little close right about now!

Anyway here's a picture of the hotel we're staying in on Honeymoon. The reviews say its a bit noisy but its right in the centre of Paris so you can't really avoid that! I think earplugs are the order of the day, and if not a couple extra bottles of the Vin de table should sort you right out!

Been a funny old week. I've started a brand new writing project that I've been aching to try out for years now but still haven't finished Switch part five even though the bare bones have been lying there waiting for weeks now. The mood will strike me soon and I'll finish it, which would be good as I've already got the beginings of the second episode playing out in my head.

bad head.

You know it's a bad headache when you have to keep checking your ears to make sure your brain isn't trickling out of them.

I blamed it on the hangover from Claires wedding on Saturday but I think its the bird flu finally come to finish me off. Darn avians!

I work with Claire and She and her husband kev have accompained us on many a rugby trip. And yes that is a pint of bitter in her hand!

With their wedding done and they both looked great, its Em and my turn next which isn't quite as scary as I thought it would be. Still a bit terrifying though.

Off to scout out some paracetamol, or aspirin, or a bat to club myself into unconciousness, which ever come first really.

A new entrant?

I didn't realise Ferengi could run in the presidential race!

Vote Quark/Rom in 2008!

The worlds third best spectator sport

I am of course referring to American Politics which is the third most compelling sport in the world.

Numbers one and two are Rugby and Sumo which of course are just different flavours of big bastards running at each other with murder in their eyes. And no padding.

The media seems to focus more on the candidates quirks than their actual policies because to be brutally honest the physical characteristics and differences between the candidates is the only thing that's interesting about them.

People complain that politicians are lying scumbags who'd pimp out their own grandmother to get that extra vote.

"Why can't they ever tell the truth?!" people moan.

Well interestingly enough the reason they can't ever speak the truth is that we won't let them.

Any person that has got to be a candidate for either of the major parties is a career politician. They have made their fortune or used Daddies, to get where they are today and they've done that by being obsequious and veiling everything they say in the cloak of denyability.

When we as the public hold people to such close account and such close scrutiny they simply can't afford to be seen to be wrong. No Pol can ever say 'Yep. Okay. I goofed up, there were no weapons in Iraq. Sorry about that. My bad.' because the public outcry would be enormous. 'What else have they got wrong?' the press would scream and it would be goodbye bye Mr Politician.

Instead they make statements that can't possibly be argued with and can't be quantified.

They could say, "We need to clamp down on some dissenting voices so we're going to start monitoring all your communications that go outside of our borders."

But instead we force them to say "I want to increase the security of our country."

How can you argue against security? "I disagree with my honourable friend, I think this country is just too secure. I want more danger for all our citizens. I will plough your tax dollars into increasing the variety and spread of the threats ranged against us."


So now with the race for the democratic candidacy under way we're back to listening to a bunch of people all trying to convince us as the voters they they are the right man/woman/crustacean for the job.

In these 'debates' every word is spun sanitized and polished up to a gleaming shine before its launched forth so the only part that holds the interest once our bulls%%t filter falls into place is their actual appearance.

And thank God, it used to be a choice between boring white guy number one and boring white guy number two. Now its a choice between racy ex-First lady with balls of iron and boring white guy disguised as interesting black guy number 2.



But we want a boring guy, don't we? We want someone who won't fly off the handle when the Russian bear wakes up and starts growling. We want someone who can go to those endless meetings on sanitation and discuss policy changes and all that dull dull dull crap SO WE DON"T HAVE TO.

sunset tranquillity

There's a road in Texas in between Amarillo and Albuquerque just before you hit the New Mexico border. Its not especially pretty, its not spectacularly stunning and its arrow straight as the roads over there tend to be.

It was getting to dusk when I was driving through it and the windmills that were the only presence at the side of the empty road were black sentinels standing out against the pink setting sun.

When I'm especially stressed or feel I've got too much coming at me, I switch off and pretend I'm driving that road again. The empty blacktop stretching off ahead and the sound of the tyres on the tarmac a mantra beneath me.

One day, before I'm forty, I'm going to drive that road again.

Happy birth-daze.

Had a great birthday spent in the bosom of my family and friends whilst simultaneously in the bosom of the pub. How could things get better you ask? Well some poor fools bought me all the kit I need to start brewing my own beer! Its bubbling away now, like a giant vat of fun waiting to be matured and drunk in the next 3 to 4 weeks. I've always wanted to be the mad scientist type, rubbing my hands manically in front of vats of coloured liquids with electricity sparking off in the background.

I may even cackle.

Anyways it was a wonderful way to celebrate being thirty, and today in work I got given cake! woot! I should birthday more often.

About a third of my way through Harry Potter, not from any great love of the series but because it is a cultural event. How many books can claim that? There's always a must see movie or a must listen album, but a must read book? The measure of it is if people who rarely read are compelled to do so. It's very different for we bibliophiles that devour any material that hoves into our field of vision. So Potter as a phenomenon should be appreciated and studied but I don't think there will be anything quite like it again, in spite of the multitude of pretenders to the throne, there won't be certainly in our lifetimes anything approaching the Potter mania that is currently manifest.

Having a weird brain day were its hard to focus on one thought for longer than ten seconds, I'll blame the hangover from yesterday.

Thirty.

So. Thirty then.

When I was seventeen, back when the dinosaurs roamed the earth, I thought that thirty was some distant strange far off land that one day some stranger in my skin might encounter. I never imaged it would actually be me staring down the barrel of middle age and daring myself to pull the trigger. You think you're going to live forever when you're that age and even if you do die you'll be all teenage drugs, opinions and snake-like hips until that day. It doesn't work like that.

HOWEVER that being said I want to be here, now at this age. A lot of people want to go back to being twenty one, I wouldn't swap my place for his for all the sweatshops in China. At twenty one I was a nervous stupid youth who wanted all the power with non of the responsibility when it all goes wrong. I've only just recently really learnt what that means, what it really means. I'm happy now, here in the situation I'm in. Okay job, nice house living with the person I adore more than anything on the earth and about to marry her. Why on earth would I swap that for early twenties acne, terrible terrible haircuts, crappy jobs where you're treated worse than scum, living with my parents and wasting my time by getting wasted?

I spent yesterday going through a mountain of old photos for the wedding and it was exactly the right thing to do. It showed me where I'd been, who I'd been with and what I had been doing for the last 10950 days of my life. And it showed me I've had a right laugh. And that where I'm going is just as important of where I've been.

I have:

Jumped off a Swiss mountain and parachuted to the valley below.
Worked abroad for six months for an American TV station,
Helped make a feature film that's available to buy on DVD.
Succeeded in gaining a degree in a hardcore science subject despite working full-time hours in a bar and having a brain leakier than your average colander.
Enjoyed a wrap party that lasted 48 hours starting in a Cardiff bar on a Friday night and ending Sunday afternoon on a beach with a bottle of mandarin vodka.
Watched Wales win their first grand slam in over twenty years.
Made someone laugh so hard they were nearly sick.
Shared icy beers in warm climes with cool people.
Made love in the surf with the ocean boiling around us.
Driven coast to coast in America in less than five days.
Been told a piece of my writing was superb by someone whose opinion on literature I respect.
Had my heart broken many times and broke someone else heart once. Only ever once.
Sang along with songs with friends at the top of my lungs in dingy clubs.
Fell in love with the most perfect woman who, against all laws of probability loves me back.
Felt the thrum and pulse of a city coming alive again.
Stood on a mountain top on my own and felt the touch of God.


So on the basis of that list when some slack jawed moron asks me "How does it feel to be thirty?" and I reply "F**king great." do you think that's justified?

My Nephew

Well its official! On the eve of my thirtieth birthday I have become an uncle! YAY!

Congrats to Amanda and Phil and a big hello to baby Jack!

That's brought a darn big grin to my face!

Have a great weekend!

Uncle Bob.

The revival of QOOC

"I'll try and use the shaft less, that's three times I've hit it tonight already!"

On Friendship.

Something that my Stag do proved to me is that real friendship isn't forced. There are many people that I have had close working relationships with that I would have considered good friends. When that working relationship ends that relationship itself dies. Oh sure if you see them in the street you'll say hello but you won't feel that attachment as strongly. It's like something has changed and you can't communicate in the way you used to. The conversation is stilted, the topics are all about stuff you used to do together to try and get that flow back. But nothing works.

 

HOWEVER, the flip side of that is when you meet up with someone you haven't seen in a while and the sparks are still flying and you sink straight back into the relationship you had as if its been five minutes rather than a few years, that is something special and something to be treasured. There are only a few people I would say are real proper close close friends but a good handful of those were with me on the Stag Do and that meant the world to me.

 

Thanks guys.

Notes from....

I hate myself for saying this but I really like this one.

Its got the elements of what I was looking for with a brief nod to Hunter S Thompson and his description of Nixon "A man so twisted he needed help to screw his pants on in the morning."

Little did I know when I wrote this the joys of the current administration which is starting to make the arch-Demon himself look like an underachiever.

Anyways I had to make Madison leave to give Jack something to focus on as I was at that moment unhappily single and I didn't see why my fictious characters should be happy when I wasn't.

I'm a bit of a bastard like that!

Notes from the Road 11

The Bridal Suite was huge and largely pink.

"I feel like I'm putting on weight just looking at it." whispered Madison in my ear as the concierge showed us around. It felt like everything was made of sugared confectionary I was trying to imagine who would think this fantasy place would be the perfect setting for starting a life together. Apart from an eight year old girl raised on tales of frogs, magic and princes that is.

It took up most of the top floor with two bedrooms (master and guest) 3 bathrooms, reception area and sitting room featuring the largest TV I have ever seen. It dwarfed the fittings in the rest of the room looming out from one wall dominating the available space. No matter where you were you could not but help but be aware of it's presence

I unearthed the remote from beneath a plethora of pink cushions and comforters and turned it on to try it out. There was a political show on and I found myself being frowned upon by Richard Nixon enhanced to a massive scale. I could see every wrinkle and sweat droplet and at this magnification the junkie madness in his eyes from years of power abuse was unmistakeable.

It was an unpleasant reminder of the uncomfortable times we lived in. The ingrained patterns of lunacy that could allow a vicious, amoral subhuman like Nixon to be elected to absolute power by the people of this nation not once but twice. We like to believe that politicians are motivated by a higher purpose, a greater power but every once in a while a pigfucker like Nixon comes along to remind us of the painful reality they're vengeful greedy idiots just like the rest of us.

I turned the TV off in revulsion and unplugged it from the wall as a safety measure. I stood up and saw Bran looking at me with a puzzled expression.

"Nixon," I said pointing at the blank still domineering TV.

He nodded sagely as if this were a totally normal response and walked on through to the bathroom.

You would have thought that after sending all that time in the harsh environment of the desert we would have been lounging on the couches that seemed to almost swallow you, with the air con turned up to full, ordering room service like it was the last days of the Hiatt Regency in Saigon, basking in all the man made luxury we could get.

But we were having none of that fake comfort, sitting on the wooden balcony overlooking the lake, watching the pale, sickly moon rise slowly with all the artificial lights in the suite turned off, smoking endless cigarettes and sipping moon-warmed rum. The night was close and deep with the scent of the pine trees permeating the air with a fragrance so fresh that it ironically reminded me of newly scrubbed floors.

Bran had already departed heading straight for the master bedroom with the fairly pessimistic instructions not to wake him 'Until the first bombs start falling. Theirs mind you, not ours.'.

Dog was curled up out side Bran's room his scraggy brown coat looking stupidly out of place against the violent pink door. I was still unsure if he was house trained but so far he hadn't left us any unpleasant brown surprises so I felt the odds were good.

Madison and I were sitting facing the lake with the bottle and an unspoken feeling between us. She brushed a stray strand of that dirty blonde hair I had come to love, out of her eyes caught me looking and smiled.

"You okay?" She said still smiling at me.

"Yeah," I replied moving closer towards her until her heavenly profile was outlined against the moon. She drew herself closer to me and angled her head towards mine as I leant in and our lips met and merged. The delicate rhythm of our silent conversation spoke of yearning and passion that had lain hidden for far too long. When we reached the end of the sentence she broke off but without moving her head away said " Well that was a long time coming,"

I placed my hand behind her head, gently tangling my fingers in that enticing hair and drew her into me again.


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


It was late morning when I awoke, I knew she was gone before my eyes were even open. I was still curled around the empty space her slim body had occupied in the bed. The guest bedroom was mercifully white and clean but still had hints of the hideous pink that suffocated the rest of the suite.

I swung myself out of bed, stretched and caught sight of myself in the mirror fixed on the wall and grinned at a freeze-frame flashback of last night, playing in the cinema of my mind.

I found my trousers hanging from the light shade and pulled them on walking into the main lounge shielding my eyes against the morning sun and spotting Bran on the balcony.

He had his shirt off and one of those foil sun screens that must have come with the room, wedged under his chin trying to top up his already considerable tan. he looked like a gigantic turkey half wrapped in foil ready for the oven.

I found my shades and cigarettes on the table and walked out into the blinding light up to the rail looking out to mountains.

"She's gone hasn't she?" I said without looking to Bran by way of morning greeting, lighting the first of that days smokes.

"Yep."

"When I say gone I mean real gone, not like she just popped out for milk or something. She's left for good hasn't she?"

"Yep."

"Was I really that bad?" I asked only half joking.

"I found this," Said Bran and handed me a piece of stationary with my name inked on it in a delicate hand I recognised as hers.


----

Jack,

I'm sorry things turned out like this. I didn't mean to leave straight after what happened but I had already decided to go before last night. There are just some things I have to do and work through on my own. You and Bran have been great road buddies but its time for me to move on again.

When my time for travel is over I'll find you again, we have much unfinished business. Stay happy and stay in the phone book. I will find you.

Give my love to Bran and Dog,

Madison.

----

The sun continued to shine and the bird continued to sing but something inside just turned to ash as my heart broke.

"We'd better go." Said Bran interjecting on my little world of misery.

"Yeah, ..."

"They've probably run a credit check on that card I gave them by now and found my name isn't Stefan Maraschino."

I stared at Bran open mouthed as a polite yet firm knocking on the door began.

morning!

 

Bad mood today. No reason just a bad mood where you eat too much at lunch to try and cheer yourself up and spend the first part of the afternoon looking for another job.

 

Just a general feeling of despondency and malaise.

The doings of the Stag

Oh Yes.

Cardiff was indeed had by all.

Still drunk I think which might explain the previous two sentances.

(Photos on the flickr account on the left there.)

We were meant to get direct trains from Rhyl to Cardiff, which would have been lovely, however little did we know the journey would involve an hour and a half coach journey driven by Albert Steptoe.

Had a great time when we actually got to Cardiff though, went around a few of my favourite pubs; 'Prince of Wales, The Goat Major, The Yard'. Got great chips, twice. Drank some superb beer and some not-so-superb beer, Failed to go to a strip club danced like a loon, tried on a dalmation costume, talked codswallop with my friends and complete strangers, Got up after about four hours sleep and checked out Torchwood....urm I mean the Assembly buildings in the pouring rain, found a french cafe and got le plein petit déjeuner anglais, then a train ride home with no terrifying coach journeys with a man who has a blind spot for roundabouts.

Just to allay any fears I do still have my eyebrows and I wasn't handcuffed to a lampost, or sealed in bubblewrap, or arrested by the police. Cardiff has a great happy vibe about it which seems to be there even when the Rugby isn't on. Of Course I wouldn't go near the place when Cardiff city are playing at home but thats another football/rugby difference. Rugby fans have fun with rivalaries, some footballs fans use it as an excuse to beat the hell out of each other.

First time I came to Cardiff for rugby Scarlets beat Bath by a single point in a really tense semi final and an hour later we were in a bar disecting the game with Bath fans. If the same thing had happened in football I would be really nervy about having a chat with the opposition but rugby just sems to have more of a relaxed atmosphere.

I'm of course talking of union here, League is a great game but it definitely has more of a footie feel about it. Espically when you get local rivalries!

Hull

Anyways rambling a bit, got the day off so I'm going to chill out play some silly computer games. YAY!

Greetings

Been a bit crap this week due to finishing off my assignment yesterday! Woot! Feel so much better with that out of the way, it was really getting a bit over-stressy for a while. You wouldn't like me when I'm stressy. Not that I turn green or anything I just get a bit, you know, stupid.

So now that's over I've got Cardiff on Saturday to look forward to. My stag do is sure to be an entertaining affair I'm sure I won't get a midget dressed as a smurf handcuffed to me but I'm sure the Motley Crew I've assembled will do the best to celebrate the passing of my bachelor days by attempting to ridicule me.

Actually, they mostly do that any night we go out so I might not even notice the difference.

In other news R. Kelly and Usher are responsible for the most unintentionally hilarious video ever. Turn the volume off right after the point where Usher says "I have a fragrance launch in New York." or you might actually hear some of the cheesy slush.

VIDEO

"I have a fragrance launch..." glad these guys are keeping it real.

(side note: Have you noticed how everyone's now a 'recording artist' rather than 'Singer'? What? Yes I am 95 Humruph.!)

Seemingly these guys have both been dating the same girl and its up to them as modern millionaire around town , with their own clothing labels and Fragrances, to trap her in an elaborate scheme involving both of them, a restaurant, a personal basketball court a library, cigars, sharp clothes and an Aston martin.




It's so overly consumerist it reaches levels of self parody.

Haven't these people read the Great Gatsby? You can own everything and still have nothing.

travelblog: Whoops

There are a few things I regret in this life. There are fewer still that I regret that I dont remeber. Last night is one of those.

Its been a damp squib of a summer so far, so when its burning hot outside you should not under any circumstance drink a near endless suply of beer just to cool down.

This may well result in feeling unwell and abandoning the party being thrown jointly in your honour. WITHOUT TELLING ANYONE WHERE OR WHY YOU'RE GOING.

If you were there Im sorry i pulled a houdini on you and ill be a bit more circumspect about sunshine and beer in future.

Daze off

So I had two more study leave days which If I don't take them now I don't get. Work has calmed down so there was scope for the team to do without me for Thursday and Friday. So with about three hours actual coursework to do I managed to get it all done yesterday AND have time to go shopping. My question is who are all these people in town in the middle of the week? okay about half are holiday makers, you can tell them by their 'Oh my God is this it?' expression. It must be awful to have looked foward to their two weeks vacation and end up in Rhyl. We live here, we're used to its unique scent of desperation and faded, defiled dreams.

Anyways the entire centre was crowded which I can normally deal with but on my days off I like to be left the hell alone. Even stopping for a bit to eat got me even more agrophobic as I had to queue in the line of the shellsuited dead. Note to North Wales townies " You and the russian Maffia are the only peple that are still wearing shell suits. What does that tell you?"

The stag do is coming along nicely although a couple of people sadly can't make it due to other commitments. but so far there'll be seventeen of us painting Cardiff an attractive shade of vermillion.


Rambling a bit due to some exceptionally fine coffee.

Now the courseworks done I should be working on either our marriage vows or this radio thing. But instead I'm going to mess about on the computer for a couple of hours and then look at them this afternoon.

She's making a break for it! Stop her!

A question for all the ass-apes.

Why do you have to be cocks all the time? Is there some inner mechanism that run on a cycle beyond human understanding that compels you at irregular intervals to try and destroy any warmth or human feeling towards you? Are you forced against your will into saying the deepest and most hurtful things you can by an Id gone mad?
Or do you enjoy wrecking the lives and happiness of all you come across, tarnishing the souls of any unfortunates that cross your path?

I only ask because one of your butt faced brethren phoned me twice this afternoon. The first time he was as nice as pie and let me assure you, pie can indeed be nice. The second time I couldn't hear him properly as he had rammed the receiver right into his own anus and was farting out the question using his own gas and unique internal geography.

I don't know if it made him feel better taking all his aggression out on me but it did make me call him an Ass-ape in front of my colleagues and they all knew who I was talking about.

So congratulations cocks. Everyone knows who you are. That's how much the rest of the world likes you.

Stinky Cheesy Gnocchi

I made this for a few friends a while ago and one of them has been asking for the recipe. I though I'd just share this all with you lovely people.


Stinky Cheesy Gnocchi: What you will need.

Milk
plain flour
Butter or marge
Block stinky cheese (Gorgonzola or something similar).
Fresh Gnocchi.
Bit of mozzarella for the topping.


Chop the stinky cheese into small cubes and put to one side.
Boil a full kettle.
Melt about a table spoon of butter/marge over a low heat in a non stick saucepan.
Add about a tablespoon of flour, increase the heat and stir it around with a wooden spoon.
A lot.
The flour/butter mixture will turn into a paste which you need to keep on stirring around the base of the pan.
What you're doing is cooking the flour so when it turns a lovely golden colour its ready.
Turn down the heat to about a half full.
Add a splash of milk to the pan, just a splash. This is VERY IMPORTANT.
Stir it until its absorbed by the paste.
Add a splash more milk and continue. If you add a big dollop all at once its lumpy sauce for you my friend! Keep going and the paste will turn into a nice thick sauce and you can add as much milk as you want to then.
Then add the cubed cheese and keep stirring.
Boil up the gnocchi using the packet instructions, drain and mix with the cheese sauce.
Place the whole lot in an oven proof dish top with mozzarella and bake for about 15 mins until the cheese topping is nice and golden.

Dead simple I know but really rather tasty.

Tooty Flutey

Well yesterday was a bit of a waste.

Not really but I didn't get as much coursework achieved as I wanted, I'll just have to make up for it today I suppose.

I did my flute out and give it a darn good blowing. Ahem. I don't suppose it officially counts as practice if you play along with Hip-hop tracks trying to pick out the main rhythm line using a flute really does it? I can only really play when I'm alone in the house as I get really embarrassed at how rusty I am. I can barely remember scales but my fingers stilll know where they're meant to go so that's something I suppose. Still the flutes never going to be cool is it? You can play a guitar or drums or sax and make it sexy (Unless you're Curtis Stigers) but with a flute your hands are stuck out to the side and your cheeks are puffed out like you're blowing up a balloon. Not attractive. Probably why Aphrodite cursed the darn thing after all her Goddess friends laughed at how she looked when she played it.

However if you can FLUTEBOX you'd probably be pretty cool.

Needless to say I can't.

Yet...

Microfiction....

This is the piece I was thinking about when I said I was thinking along similar lines as I was last year. Its more the feel its gives me than the actual writing, the ideas of a future which is fantastic and mundane at exactly the same time. Kind of like the present really,

I'm putting a few ideas together for a net radio play and this I think is a good introduction to the idea of it being set in the future. I've got to actually round off the story first. I know how its going to end but I need to actually put pen to paper *ahem* I mean fingertip to keyboard to actually get it done. Then I can get the script polished and start thinking about actually recording it. Radio's not a medium I've done anything in before so its interesting trying to make it exciting with no visual cues whatsoever.

Microfiction: Snow

It hadn't snowed in the city for years. The syrupy cloud of super dense smog hanging over the city like a pollution umbrella, saw to it that any snowflake that was unlucky enough to fall near would wilt and evaporate back up into the cloud.
This meant that the snow gained enough toxins so when the cloud was free of the city proper the suburbs would get a covering of thick drifts of black snow.

Shit snow we called it.

When I was growing up mothers calling children back for their mittens weren't doing so to keep their offspring warm. More to stop their hands from blistering and burning from the freezing toxic wasteland that came every winter. I believe that it was one of the few places where a snowball fight was banned under the Geneva convention on Biological weapons.

Things are different now, so they tell me. The air scrubbers embedded in every tall building are doing their job. The cloud is thinning out and sunlight can be seen on the streets of Manhattan for the first time in a hundred years. This renders the street lamps continual 12 hour routine of night and day useless.

The real sunlight has us blinking and we're reaching for our sunglasses out of need, not vanity just as our great great great great forefathers must have done before us.

The fresh snow can't help matters either. Lying like a blanket of non-fat-soya-yoghurt defiantly not scalding those that are brave enough to touch it with bare skin.

It'll melt soon in the almost unbearable brightness but for a while we can remember that snow didn't always kill.

meandering worthless thoughts.

Odd kind of day today, I find myself thinking along the same sort of lines I remember thinking about a a year or so ago but for a different type of fiction.

That's progress for you I suppose going from the same starting point to totally different conclusions.

I've got so much stuff on at the moment its not funny, I've even had to turn down free beer on Friday so I've got a clear head for the workload on Saturday.

That's right I just turned down free beer. There must be something wrong with me apart from getting responsible.

I've filled the sixteen places on my stag do now and if I'm, being honest I'm far more nervous about a drunken night out in Cardiff than I am actually getting married. I'm just not sure I'd enjoy being handcuffed naked to a streetlight at three in the morning.

Hopefully it'll just be a good laugh with some close friends rather than some of the nightmare stag dos people have been telling me about. I'm not sure how much the stags in question have told their wives, but clearly not very much if they actually went ahead with the ceremony.

Bit rambly today but hopefully that'll clear up as I've got about a hundred replies to wedding invites to sort through tonight.

This wedding has suddenly got very VERY real.

Laters.

Wedding redux

Ed and Kats wedding (Photos to the left) was simply lovely.


Ed arrived in a DeLorean done out like the time machine from 'Back to the future' to rapturous applause, mainly from me! Kat looked simply stunning as she walked down the aisle on her way to becoming Mrs Evers-Swindel. The service was brief but filled with lovely moments especially with the vicar giving a sermon on 'the force' and about 'The Power of Love' they signed the register to Leia's theme and walked out as husband and wife to the Triumphant procession from 'A New Hope'. It was all I could do to stop myself from growling, wookie style.

They left the church in a gorgeous old Jag, leaving my sister to catch a lift in the delorean to the wedding lunch, fulfilling a childhood dream of hers. The do was in a marquee in Kats parents field which has possibly the best view of the Flintshire countryside I think I've ever seen! Pimms was served and much chat and catching up with people I rarely get to see. Ross, Andrew, Ally are all really really good friends whom I simply don't see enough of due to geography. Damn Geography!

The lunch was really nice especially considering it was served from a tent in a field. I did consider asking them for the soup recipe but I thought that might be in bad taste.

The speeches were really good, Kats dads speech was really touching and Will managed to tickle a few funny bones by taking the mick out of me as well as the groom!

After lunch we decided to take a walk and wandered around the back roads until we ran out of champagne and then headed back to the night do, where Ed's band played really well surprising everyone when Kat not only sang three beautiful songs with them but then did a drum duet with Ed! And then it was cheesy disco dancing until the wee hours.

My favourite wedding I have ever attended. So far!

Weddings!

Two of my best friends got married yesterday and I'm over the moon for them. A little hung over but still over the moon.

All the photos are available from my flickr account listed on the left there.

Happy wedding Kat n Ed! I know you guys are going to be fantastic together.

(FYI, They're the two in the middle... :))

Straight to DVD title of the week.

hola,

Morning!

Things are kind of settling back to normal now. Just to give you some idea frantic emails were flying around departments at 2 o'clock this morning, luckily I'd been out all evening at my badminton night out so I had all the email trail in my mailbox this morning.

London was fun although the tube was totally rammed and really sweaty and hot. Being embedded in someones armpit travelling from South-west to North London is in no-ones 'TOP TEN THINGS TO DO' list.

Had one of those weekends where your forced into groups that you have to be civil and polite to people that you normally wouldn't choose to hangout with. bit of a culture clash but it was okay.

Except at the pub we went to 5 guys were having a darts contest that I could not understand at all, they'd have three darts each (or less) throw them randomly around the board and get a score from one to five. One being good five being poor. But the scoring seemed totally random! but they all obviously knew the rules as groans or sharp laughs would arise after ever throw. It made NO SENSE!

If it had been Will doing it I would have thought it was some kind of though experiement!

Anyway my writings gone to crap in the last few weeks I've been so stressed and busy I think I've written one word. And that word was;

"The ".

I think it needs a bit more work.

I did however pass the second module of my course! So, Woo and indeed Hoo! Just got to find some time to do part three and resit part one and I'll be on my way!!

Notes from...

I like this one.

 

There was a documentary on Annie Prolux on her novel 'That old Ace in the Hole';

 

http://www.amazon.co.uk/That-Old-Hole-Annie-Proulx/dp/0007151527/ref=pd_bbs_sr_7/026-4164376-4951655?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1182416964&sr=8-7

 

; where she visited all these weird little places in the Texas panhandle. Amongst them there were green and verdant towns that I would never expect to see in Texas.

 

I actually recommend 'That old ace in the hole' over her more well known books 'The Shipping news' or the gay cowboys eating pudding romp 'Brokeback Mountain'.

 

She really embeds herself in the stories she writes, living in a place for up to three years learning all about it before putting pen to paper. Her work really evokes places and people that you and I will never have the privilege of seeing but through her writing, feel we know.

 

 

Notes from the road 10

 

 

Chapter 10

 

 

 

Notes from the road pt 10

 

We were stopped on the outskirts of a pretty town with the disconcerting name of  Desolation. To us four sun-blasted veterans of the desert this tiny village was anything but desolate, being just on the side of a huge lake and surrounded by forest on the bank. The trees on the shore line provided the perfect shade for a small lunch and gave the perfect view of calm waters reflecting an azure sky broken only by Dogs insistence of diving into the water shattering its mirror-like consistency.

 

Towering above this tranquil scene was the mountain we had recently descended, standing proud above all the others in his range. With the solid granite on one side and the lake on the other I should have felt trapped, caught being a rock and a wet place but instead I felt secure, safe almost.

 

We were walking into the reception of a expansive hotel called The Pine Lodge, although the imported polished cars, its immaculate lawns and the five stars discreetly placed on its signboard put paid to its humble sounding name. 

 

The guests were mainly rich businessmen on retreat from the north in search of some game fishing and their spouses who either shared or tolerated their husbands passion for Poisson. A few of these archetype couples were having coffee in the morning room off of the foyer when we walked in. You could feel their stares boring into and through you for daring to interrupt their carefully ordered little universe.

 

To be fair to them we did made a pretty incongruous collection walking through their staid world of bronzed oak and velvet drapes, of room service and bellboys that always smile no matter how little you tip them, being a chirpy mongrel dog, the striking yet dressed-down Madison, the massive check shirted Bran and me. 

 

The clerk surveyed us with a calculating stare starting from toe to head and I'm sure his gaze didn't even get above ankle height before he knew there would be no gratuity for him tonight.

 

He was wearing a grey pinstripe suit with a tie that alone cost more than Bran's truck and was snotty in that way that only Englishmen working abroad can manage. A snivelling superior air that even though they're waiting on you makes you feel they're doing it under sufferance.

 

The road dust from several days travel settled around us on the immaculate beige and crimson carpet as he leant across the two foot of walnut and said,
"Can I help you sir?" not bothering to hide his desire to be as little use as possible.

 

"We'd like a room please." I replied trying not to let his airs downsize me.

 

His gaze hardly flickered.

 

"For all of you together sir?"

 

Madison stifled a laugh under a cough and I cursed myself silently.

 

"No just a twin and a single will be fine thank you."

 

"I'm afraid sir the only rooms we have available might be a little out of sirs price range. The Sleep-E-Z motel is just across town, might I suggest you seek accommodation there?"

 

He looked down on Dog who had remained very calm on the end of his leash but had now obviously caught a scent and was trying, unsuccessfully to drag Madison towards a potted fern in the corner of the elegantly appointed room.

 

"We've already been there," I said trying to inject a moment of calm back into the situation" they've got no vacancies and they told us you might have a room here."

 

"We do have rooms sir but I think they might be unsuitable for your needs."

 

"Unsuitable?"

 

"Totally."

 

"For you or for us?" Chimed in Madison colouring rapidly, I was only an arched eyebrow behind her in the race to loose our patience.

 

"The only rooms we have left mam are one single and the bridal suite which on its own is more expensive than hiring every room in the Sleep-e-z motel for a week. So you see why I might think this particular venture might be out of your financial reach. Now might I suggest you take your little menagerie out of my hotel before you disturb the actual paying guests anymore than you unruly presence here already has."  

 

He arched his eyebrow.

 

"Now look," I was about to say. "Yes we may look like drifters, yes we may not be up to the steam pressed standards of your usual clients and yes our dog may be just about to take a leak against your no doubt hugely rare and expensive fern but there no need to treat us as if we're smeared in our own faeces. Surely there are standards and rituals of human behaviour that even you talking from your clearly elevated position over us can use to not make us feel like blood sucking ticks on the ass of civilisation."

 

Well, that's what I was about to say, but I was interrupted by Bran gently but firmly moving me out of the way with a ham like hand to loom over both the counter and the clerk.

 

We can become so used to see something special or unusual that it takes a special set of circumstances for us to see it clearly, as it actually is, again.

 

Bran pulling himself up to his full height and wading forward to the counter, made me see him how others must view him everyday. The pure physical hulking brutality of the man, hidden in our day to day dealings was as clear to me then as one of those optical illusions where you see two faces looking at each other and then it becomes an hourglass.

 

That change had just overtaken Bran and the clerk could feel it too. All his forced manners good graces and expensive suit couldn't protect him now. Even the solid wooden bastion of the counter top felt as flimsy as paper mache and offered about as much protection.

 

Bran glowered down on the thin head of this bug, this insect that dared to insult and defy him. I braced myself for the violence and a swift exit, trying to remember if we had left any finger prints on our way in to tie us to this forthcoming crime.

 

"Do you," Bran hand reached inside his jacket followed by the clerks gaze who gave an involuntary yelp," Take American Express?"

 

At that moment I don't know who was more surprised, Madison, myself or the clerk whose programming obviously took several seconds to come back on at the sight of Bran's platinum card. As normality returned Bran seemed to shrink almost allowing the clerk to fluff himself up again.

 

"Of course sir. That will do very nicely."

 

"I think you'll find my credit is excellent"

 

"I'm sure it is sir. Thank you."

 

-----------

 

Together we walked over to the elevator too surprised to speak. Madison looked at me as if to say, "Did you know about this?" I shook my head indicating Bran's apparent affluence had been a secret from me too. .

 

He stood in front of us, his broad back giving nothing away and said.

 

"There are sometimes, when proving a point is the right thing to do, however expensive it may then turn out to be. Also," he added " I was sleeping in a bed tonight whatever the cost."

 

The lift trundled upwards towards the bridal suite.

One little kiddie on cake cried all the water out of his body.

Just got time to make a small observation.

 

Bernard Manning's died today.

 

 

 

 

 

Hooray!

 

http://observer.guardian.co.uk/comment/story/0,,525498,00.html

.

Dear internets,

 

Sorry for not writing sooner.

 

I've been away on a work course for the weekend and found someone had pressed the "Let's meltdown robs payroll and pee pee on the ashes" button.

 

Normal service will be resumed when I can actually find more to post than....

 

Bastard.

Bastard.

Bastard.

Bastard.

Bastard.

Bastard.

Bastard.

Bastard.

Bastard.

Bastard.

Bastard.

Bastard.

Bastard.

 

Love 'n' biscuits.

 

Rob

Travelblog : bah people

Ever had one of those days where you wish EVERYONE would go away?

Going to London for a conference till the weekend. Updates no doubt soon.

Going to the Zoo Zoo Zoo, How about you?

Had a great stag do yesterday, spent all morning in Chester zoo looking at the animals looking at us. We followed a bunch of scousers around the Chimpanzee enclosure who kept offering the Chimps out for a fight.

As Ed will tell you Chimps are seven times stronger than even your biggest Scouser and they tend to pull each others fingers off for minor transgressions of established Chimp behaviour. I think your average human would last less than thirty seconds against an enraged chimp but these guys were so annoying I was willing to let them put it to the test.

After establishing that the spider monkeys and rhinos were actually in collusion and about to take over the world, we beat a hasty retreat back to the safety of Ed's garden and set up the barbeque.

Few images remain clear in my mind after we cracked open the third case of Peetermans Artoisbut a few things I am certain of;

1: Lightsabres are about a thousand time more fun if a guy who teaches stage fighting shows you a few basics and then tries to hit you. Also it helps if you have five of the heavy weight master replicas on hand, including Darth Mauls double bladed one.

2: Sticking your Ipod to a set of speakers and hitting random is bound to piss at least one person at a party off. Better to create a tracklist that will offend as few people as possible.

3: Two burgers= good. Three burgers = Better. Four burgers = Too much.

4: Some people are actually surprised when strippers aren't invited to a Stag do.

5: Good people have good people as friends. Even if you've never met them before you have at least one thing in common. And usually several.

Sundays are best used recovering from saturday. Hoorah for hair of the dog!

Boo to work tomorrow.

.

And now I've just seen her crying.

Bollocks.

Now I feel guilty.






Damn shes good at this emotional blackmail thing, If I'd have been there I'd have let her out. Shes like some kind of devious mastermind!

Woo Hoo she's back in jail!

Sense has finally prevailed!

Unless they wanted riots by the rest of the population that weren't white rich daughters of billionaires she had to go back.

Great.




Anyone else think its a little weird that some girl I'll never meet having to go to jail for forty days makes me happy? Its not just me then? Good.

Saturday mornings,

Saturday morning is as close to a sacred ritual as I get, I'm aways up by 7 having no disposition to lie in. I've tried to do it a number of times but unless I'm actually comatosed I'm always up. I start thinking of things to do or read or write or muck about with and I just can't lie still.

I think if you spend most of your week waiting for the weekend spending a goodly portion of it in bed seems counter productive.

Or maybe I'm just weird.

Did a months worth of course work in four days. I feel like my brain is leaking out of my ears but I've completed the reading material for my course next weekend. It's a residential coure so I'll be away for a couple of nights and all the people that have been on the course before talk about is the atmosphere in the bar after the sessions are over.

Sounds like everyone relieved their uni/college days which is fun but besides the point of being there.

Speaking of which if you ever get the chance check out Fandango.

Yes it has Kevin Costner in it... Wait! Where are you going? Come back! Its from 1984 before he got crap!

Anyway but its a really entertaining story of four and a half guys who finish college and go on a road trip that deserves to be a lot more famous than it is.

Anyway off to a stag do at a Zoo, where else could we get genuine stags for the barbeque?

Laters

Conversations with a fool.

Hello Mr Taylor?

 

Speaking.

 

We'd like to upgrade your mobile phone.

 

No Thanks.

 

Well sir, what length of contract are you on?

 

Urm...

 

Its twelve months isn't it?

 

If you say so.

 

Well it's twelve months and so you're entitled to a free phone.

 

No thanks.

 

Sorry?

 

No thanks, I've finally got a phone that does everything I ask of it without breaking, collapsing or making calls to Singapore whilst in my pocket.

 

*click*

 

Hello?

 

 

 

When you can get cold caller to hang up on you without shouting, swearing or calling their lineage into question then you'll be a man, my son.

 

Curse of the Paris.

Unbelievable.

 

She's been released from jail three days into a thirty day stint and is now under house arrest.

 

House arrest? Which house? Which mansion should she spend the next 30 days in? The one with four swimming pools or five? It'll be two weeks until we see the lavish parties she'll be holding at the house in the press. Just because she can't go out doesn't mean the party can't come to her. I'll bet Tiffanies are fitting diamonds to her ankle collar now.

 

The double standards of the Justice system is awful. Its always been like this but its only in cases like these that we see how deep the rot goes.

 

Think about Katrina, and how long people had to wait for help. If the Hiltons had lived in those suburbs they would have used every effort to evacuate them.

 

All men are created equally but if you're heir to a multibillion fortune you don't have to face the consequence of your actions.

 

I tried to be funny but I'm just too ashamed for the free world.

 

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/6732915.stm

bah

Work+study+weddings+finance+exams make for very poor reading. Normal service will resume shortly.

A reading from the book of Bastardicus

And Lo he did appear unto his flock and his countenance was like thunder. And he said unto them;

 

"Which one of you bastards has assigned all the bloody crappy jobs to me?!"

 

And they could not meet his gaze for it's sheer ferocity would have torn them asunder.

 

He sighed "You guys are unbelievable,".

 

The crowd was greatly relieved that he was a forgiving Deity and unlikely to cast them into the lake of fire where there was a great wailing and a gnashing of teeth.

Le weekend

The trip I was talking about was a surprise birthday party for my Mum in a restaurant in Covent Garden just before she was whisked away to see Mama Mia in the West end all organised with ruthless efficiency by my sister.

 

Well Mum had such a great surprise walking in and seeing all her close family around the table it was wonderful to watch. It's nice to make someone you care about feel special.

 

So we split up after lunch with one half going to get Abba-i-fied the other half of our little troupe went to the pub and drank copious amounts of Peetermans Artois. It's like Stella without the aggro or the annoying hangover. From their it was time to head back to Jane's house for Dominos pizza and more lager. Next morning over to Wez's parents house for a truly wonderful Sunday lunch followed by an uncustomary smooth train ride home.

 

All in all a great weekend

Travelblog: To be read in the style of Hunter S. Thompson. R.I.P.

The train was jammed full of people. "Let me through dammit! I'm a doctor ferchristssakes!" I raged at the hordes of staggering morons choking the passageways. The half full bottle of 100 proof rum i was waving around let them know I was serious.

"Fisher! Overhere!" my companion had shucked two Portugese out of their gainfully aquired seats and we settled in opposite an old couple. They were holding hands in a tight but definite manner drawing strength from each other to deal with the horrifying madness that confronted them across their previously peaceful table.

Carefull words were called for. A set of calm assuring principles were needed to aswade their fears and to stop them involving the police. It was going to be a long enough journey without dealing with those sonsofbitches.

"My companion," I began "is the crown prince of a country I should not name. He is traveling incognito due to several specifically detailed death threats against his person."

Their terrified glances told me the conversation was slipping away from me.

"Listen!" I shouted, slamming the table with my fist "This is serious! This man requires constant medical attention! I am here as his personal physician to attend to his delusions and chronic bedwetting. You're perfectly safe with me."

"Yes," added my companion taking a big snort from the bag of whiteish powder hed dumped on the table,"we're not like the others."

"Damn it!" I exclaimed to him watching their hastily retreating backs" They've gone to get the police you know!"
"Why?" he replied pointing at the bag "I did offer them a straw."

I put the newspaper over my head and made snoring noises hoping the fuzz would think I was traveling alone.

The train roared on into the night.