news [archive 19]


09.11.05: we have a few rules in our house. these are rules that are not to be broken, even if you don't speak english and do not understand their full implication. the rules are as follows:

you don't take a bath in the morning between 07:45 and 08:30 when other people are trying to use the toilet, brush their teeth, shower and get to work on time.

you don't use metal implements in teflon pans. if metal (like a fork, duh) comes in contact with the teflon coating it will damage it. bits of teflon are toxic when cooked.

you don't watch films at full volume between the hours of 23:00 and 09:00, especially if they include a main character who squeals like a dying fucking pig.

you don't leave the oven hob on. you just don't. this is common sense. it shouldn't have to be a rule but apparently it does.

if it is 100% necessary to bring meat into the house then it must be kept in the freezer and not cooked in any of the communal pans. if it is cooked in the grill or oven then you have to do clever things beyond my knowledge (like using foil or something) to not contaminate the oven.

when you lose at shithead (i can't believe there is a wiki entry for that) you must wear the tea cosy on your head.

if you are arrested you do not give the police our address (this rule only applies to people who do not actually live in our house).

if another person wishes to stay in the house for an extended period of time then everyone named on the housing contract must have first given their consent. this applies to girl/boy friends and travellers alike. you can try to sneak them in but their bicycles blocking the hall will tend to give it away.

yesterday a client called me a techie geek genius. i was wearing a suit at the time and conducting myself quite well. i'm not really sure what to think about it.

last night i dreamt about starbucks.



08.11.05: zero culture is my most hated shop in brighton. it is hollow, inane and diseased. it is the most polished poisoned turd. it is a nothing, a sad attempt at cultural marketing that has failed fantastically and ironically. it's no wonder that their site ranks top for c**ty shop in brighton (i censored that so i don't rank for it, not so i don't offend you). i find it's superficiality highly obnoxious and offensive. i also find it funny that the shop is always empty.

what's more is they also have a 'culture' magazine, the language in which is laughably bad. it's a bit like your mum saying "down wit da street mofo". the content is even worse. wont they please shut the fuck up.

will someone hurry up and graffiti the front of their shop. think about it, they can't exactly complain can they? just make it as nasty as possible.


and running with the theme of distasteful shops in brighton, starbucks body art is quite scary. it got me thinking though, if you show anyone the little nipple-less woman without the green border do people actually recognise it? maybe that's why they've painted it over some girls butt.

i feel like i've missed fig season without having a really good fig. that makes me sad.



07.11.05: i was dragged back to rugby this weekend. it wasn't so bad. i managed to fill five black bin bags to buldging point. and that doesn't include the three piles of magazines, the bag of cardboard or the bag of old magazine cover cds.

the question in my head was this, why is it so hard to throw your old stuff away? it's stuff you don't even know you have - if it all got destroyed in a fire you wouldn't miss it. if you never saw it again i doubt it'd really bother you. but going through the process of throwing it all away is always so hard.

i figured it's two things..

you're panning through your childhood. through all those old letters, broken toys and sentimental junk. and all of them bring memories flooding back. all of the things you'd forgotten in the process of growing up. all of those reasons you loved being a kid. it's traumatic remembering that you never did want to grow old, and here's the proof that you finally did.

these are the things that used to mean so much to you, but now you have to throw them away. you have to class everything you used to love as rubbish. it's admittance that it's all junk and it's worthless. because if it wasn't then why is it currently on the way to the dump to never be seen again?

it's not about materialism. it's not that you can't bear to throw stuff away. it's that you're throwing away the only ties you have to your childhood. you've written it all off. when these are gone they wont exist to remind you of the magical times you've had, and so what would have been the point of having lived them at all? (coupland)

i say do it. embrace your mortality. stop living in the past. it may be all the things that made you who you are today, but it isn't who you are. like any knob who's read fight club will tell you.

things thrown away:

spud gun (painted blue)
clockwork monkey from scream pub in selly oak
mike and sully from sian's old house
sleater kinney tracklist from ben
zoids from a camper holiday
model car (painted with the same blue)
remote control car/buggy
a lion mask
"slime don't panic time" watch
snoopy hairdryer


also i'd like to remind you (as you battle your citizens in the streets) that 'la haine' is now ten years old. at any point you could have gone done to your local video store and rented it out.



04.11.05: i'm too tired to give a shit or even bother to be polite about it. here's a list of internet crap:

so if you want to buy me a christmas present top of my list is danger global warming tape. the more reels i get the better. i'm rude to you and then ask you for a present. awesome cheek or what?

new pwei demo tracks. not really a patch on senser's reformation efforts but their previews sucked as well.

best thing i've seen for ages - meet the world. flags translated to convey the country's statistics. i'll have a "fucking genius" thank you kindly.

the kill everyone project is beautiful in everyway. you click the button once and you kill a single person. you click it many and you're commiting genocide. play god/president/dictator/whatever you want. kill all hippies. it's such a shame that their explanation (and pretty much all text on the site) is a load of ass shit. maybe you should compare it with the world-o-meters while you're still clicking on my links. it's chilling.

despotism - an erpi classroom film.

anyway, i'm off to rugby for the weekend to throw away my childhood. have a good one, or something.



03.11.05: literally, i nearly started crying when i walked past the new north laines starbucks and saw how many people were in there. they looked so happy.



03.11.05: if i used titles the title of this would be "ntl - a customer service critique".

but first thing's first, i think it's important for me to point out that i don't like the culture of hating useless customer service monkeys. it's not their fault that the company they work for are trying to fuck you over. there's never need to be rude to them and it just spreads the hate. be nice on the phone, you assholes.

anyway, my problem went like this.. when we moved into our house half of the people wanted to get broadband and the other half didn't. i wish i'd put my foot down and said (politely but firmly) that not only was the contract not going in my name, but i also wasn't going to pay a single penny for it. that would have been the sensible thing to do, and not have been as unreasonable as i was made to think it was at the time.

eight months later (when the only people who used the internet moved out) i found out that the person who set up our account put us on a twelve month contract, knowing full well that he was going to move out before it was up. this is were ntl customer services come in. they're quite friendly whilst informing me i'm stuck with them until october and there's nothing i can do about it - a contract is a contract. i could have claimed i was moving into a house that already had ntl (if i knew one) or i was moving into a telewest area, but these are the things that didn't occur to me. all i could do was downgrade to the cheapest package (why weren't we on it before? i don't know) and swallow the £17 a month cost. i asked very nicely if there were people in less low places that i could speak to, but no. and i explained how if i could leave ntl now under good circumstances then i'd be more likely to return when i wanted broadband again, whereas if they force me to sit through four months of £17 it's not fucking likely. also, when i finally leave, angry and swearing down the phone, it'll save them the time and money of a customer relations monkey phoning me up to get me on better terms. because that will happen. but no.

so the time comes to part ways with ntl, our contract is finally up. except that i notice they're still charging me for the whole month. i phone them up and they explain that i'll be refunded the money when we're disconnected. that's kind of stupid but nevermind, i can live with it. but then i'm told actually we need to provide 30 days notice to be disconnected. well that's no worry, i told you three fucking months ago that i wanted to be disconnected as soon as fucking possible. i didn't use the swear words. i'm put through to someone else and after a while of explaining everything (that i've just written above) the guy says we've now been completely disconnected. i check a few days later and we havn't, but that's okay because it's what their computer says that counts.

fast forward to yesterday when i recieve our phone bill. it's £27 - an increase of £26. not only was our phone not disconnected but they're now charging us line rental because our 1 year free line rental (because we had broadband) has ended. it was raining so i skipped breakfast which was replaced by coffee, so i'm kind of edgy when i phone up. this is the fifth or sixth time i've spoken to them now and i don't really know where to begin to explain my problem. the guy explains to me again how i have to give them 30 days notice, i tell him that's bullshit and i told them three fucking months ago. i do use the swear words. he's still very reasonable with me and i respect him for that, but he goes on to tell me that the 30 days notice has to be after the contract is up. i'm fucking stunned into silence. i finally manage to stammer out how that is just ridiculous and completely unacceptable. it's a thirteen month contract then? but he says it's not. i signed a twelve month contract (except it wasn't even me) and i'm being bound for thirteen? how the fuck does that make sense? he has no answer and i'm put on hold. over a minute later he comes back on the line and tells me that they've refunded my line rental (again), so i thank him and almost apologise for being slightly rude.

it's over. i can't believe it. we are finally free of ntl. we have no internet, phone or tv but who needs those in this day and age anyway? it's all swell until the phone rings just after dinner. it's ntl. it's the customer relations monkey that i told them would phone me. he asks why i'm leaving and i tell him the whole story. he trys to sweeten me by offering us a much cheaper rental with free local weekend calls. i tell him i'm really not interested, i've had it with their deals. besides, we're moving out soon anyway. but this guy is unstoppable, he offers me the line rental for free (well fuck me if i thought it actually cost them anything once it was already installed). i "ermmm" down then phone at him until he throws in free local weekend and evening calls as well, and we can quit whenever we want - just pick up the phone and call customer services. that doesn't quite make sense, and i ask him why i can't just tell him when we're moving out now and that's the end of it. i had to ask him twice before he agrees. i tell him we're moving christmas day and i hear him sigh. who has the power now mother fucker? well actually it's christmas eve i tell him, but whatever. and as easy as that it's done.

now why the fuck couldn't they just have done that to begin with? the question now is which broadband provider do i go with next time? better the devil you know? i don't fucking think so.



02.11.05: it's always nice to be welcomed back by the rain. that and the clangs and crashes of the recycling lorry as it trundles down our street, sometime too early before i really want to be woken up.

budapest isn't the cleanest looking city, with its dull greys and browns and serious homelessness problem, but walking down our littered brighton streets and i'm wondering how people think they can get away with just dropping their rubbish on the floor. our streets are nothing to be proud of. they're ugly and tainted, and everything you do just makes them worse. i guess a brand new starbucks would make the streets seem a bit cleaner, wouldn't it?

where is your self respect anyway? where is you god damn fucking face?

meanwhile the argus labels me a "rogue cyclist". what a menace us cyclists are - all those accidents that almost happened. all those near misses. all of them just "waiting to happen". rather, all the people who didn't actually get hit this morning because a bunch of us decided to cycle to work instead. you name a single person who has been seriously injured by a careless cyclist and i may even begin to give a shit. i'm sorry if i scared you when you stepped onto the cycle path without looking. and i'm sorry if i confused you when you were drove up a one way street to find me coming down the wrong way. i'm sorry if i got in your way and you didn't quite know what to do. cyclists are among the most conscientious people on the road (and er, pavement). if there's an accident it's always the cyclist that is going to come out worse. and the unfriendliest cyclist is always better than the nicest driver. cars fucking kill you, you idiots. if not when they collide with your pathetic fragile body, then when they spew death into the atmosphere and slowly kill us all.

the funniest quote in their front page article (would you believe) was that some of these cyclists were travelling so fast that officers on foot could not keep up with them. suck a fucking duh.

my photos and ramblings on budapest will be along in good time.



26.10.05: me and grilly are off to budapest for six days starting tomorrow (it's safe for me to tell you this now grilly's informed his rather unimpressed parents). we'll be staying at:

Agape Guesthouse
7th district Erzsébet krt. 2

and our flight details are as follows:

Thursday 27 October
London Gatwick To Budapest (terminal 2B)
Check in opens Thu 27 Oct 11:00
flight 5485; dep. Thu 27 Oct 13:00
arr. Thu 27 Oct 16:20

Tuesday 01 November
Budapest (terminal 2B) To London Gatwick
Check in opens Tue 01 Nov 14:10
flight 5486; dep. Tue 01 Nov 16:10
arr. Tue 01 Nov 17:55

if you miss me you could always read my kilimanjaro journal, innit.

and if you're missing julie, here's a few photographs:





sleater kinney cancelled. i hate women.



25.10.05: julie's gone and my room is finally tidy again, i just wish it didn't feel so empty without all her stuff. it was definately quite weird waking up (for the second time) on saturday morning to such a destitute room. at least i got to vacuum it.

i thought the best thing to do with the rest of saturday would be a trip to town, just like in the good old days. i picked up the new 65daysofstatic cd and it's fucking amazing. believe. we also ate at bombay aloo (dude, everywhere else was shut), which is impressive since we'd had a 'spice nutriment' curry the night before and the left overs for breakfast (i prefer eshnas to be honest). the rest of the day i wasted reading comics, until after a shared litre of vodka and a watching of commando later we set off into the night to cause trouble. the trouble lasted until gone 5am when we finally returned exhausted and victorious (at least until tommy tells us that the bastard had moved house after his messy divorce). maybe you should ask me for the story in person.

on sunday i finished my kilimanjaro journal. so jump for mother fucking joy. and we also cooked the evilest and most environmentally unfriendly roast dinner. word to your fat mom.

yesterday my whole day (14 hours of it at least) was taken out on a business trip up to chester. i got to finish reading some hg wells and chomsky at least.

so if emil can only say "dumb sluts" once more in his life he better save it for these girls (as for that picture - "we thought these t-shirts in particular were funny"). who put the little baby swastika on the wall? they even have a blog. and to be honest, i don't fancy yours much.



21.10.05: you may have heard already, but a couple in sweden have named their baby "google kai". i'd link to their site but there's no fucking way i'm supporting this degrading and frankly lame attempt at search engine marketing. you think the baby's name is funny? you think the parents are stupid? or cruel? all it is (and i hate to admit it) is a clever viral marketing campaign. let me tell you how it works. first you do something idiotic, like name your baby after the worlds biggest media company (by stock value - no shit) and create yourself a little website about it. you then sit back and watch as every online news site, forum and blog links to your site to laugh (at or with you) and gawp in general internet amazement. a few weeks later and your site will now be rocking in the search engines and continuing to recieve a ridiculous amount of traffic. poor baby google though, he's barely been alive ten minutes and his site has already been taken over by adsense (adverts from google that make ta site's owner money when people click them). i'd like to say this will never work as their traffic is so untargetted, but people probably are clicking them and google kai is going to have a very capitalist christmas (to avoid the obvious comments, i actually have adsense on my own site, but the difference is it's not the point of my site). if that wasn't bad enough, baby google's page is also full of badly optimised links to his fathers "professional seo company". bullshit. the reason behind the links is to pass the 'link equity' gained from their pathetic publicity stunt to the dad's business - search engine optimising. would you solicit seo from someone who stoops so low for the sake of a few rankings? i guess perhaps you would.

this week emile (julie's brother incase you didn't know and needed to) has been staying with us. it's been a lot of fun and crazy antics. this is good considering i'm going to be living with him. hopefully i'll be sent copies of his photos and i can put them up sometime.

simona has also been staying with us, which is weird because none of us know her at all. we've made efforts to encourgage her to hang out with us but she always politely declines. how can we make her realise that it's not for her benefit? i personally don't like living with a random stranger, and especially when it's her boyfriend. they barely even speak english (very loud). i'm not complaining here, i'm just making notes.



20.10.05: experiments in sleep deprivation, day eight - laurence becomes too ill to get out of bed. these things happen. and to be honest, i think only two days off sick in two whole years is pretty good going.

so someone finally hit the new starbucks in the north laines. if there was ever a more worthy target i was never told. before i carry on though, i need a quick disclaimer to say that this wasn't me. i know some of you wont believe me and i won't blame you either - what with all the crying wolf and my previous rant. but it just wasn't me. i can take the credit for this photoshop though:



the north and south laines are a celebration of different and interesting shops, far removed from any of your other high streets and shopping centres. yes it's only 'shopping' (and mostly wanky shops and cafes at that) but it's the geographical heart of our city. the council care about it enough to send cease and desist letters to those shops not "in keeping" with their view of the laines (those shops with facades that are a bit too colourful, inventive or some other fucking bullshit) but they're more than happy to let a starbucks open right bang in the middle of it. a prime slice of real estate, and it's going to fuck all of your favourite and independently run cafes. just like the stencil says - our streets are dying and the council are loving it. i don't think i've ever had less faith in our city and council. so come on people, isn't it about time you started your own starbucks hate campaign?

my campaign will find me stencilling "RA$H" in bright pink all over the exterior of their new outlet (and hell, why not the old one as well?). it's not exactly reaching for the lessons the masked pass on, but i still can't get out of my head "seize the metropolis its you it’s built on".

an interesting aside (for me at least), on the internet the ten most searched on starbucks related phrases include the following (in order of popularity):

starbucks franchise
calorie in starbucks drink
cost of starbucks start up
franchise oppotunity
buy starbucks coffee franchise

does that not scare the holy fuck out of you?

oppose this now before some cunt buys out your kitchen and installs a starbucks in your very own home. you've been warned.



18.10.05: i was a bit late to work this morning. you see, someone had gone and pasted "danger global warming" tape over select adverts for cars and oil. obviously i had to keep stopping and taking photographs:



i know some of those photos look like they were taken at night, but i assure you they weren't. it just goes to show you how early i have to get to work these days.

just to prove how fucking cool sad i am, yesterday i transfered 6p into my savings account so that it says "available balance £1337.35+". it made me laugh anyway. it also ties in nicely with diesel sweeties which is having its 1337th episode today. it's a good day to be l33t.

we've been waiting donkey's years for darren aronofsky's new film. it's still nowhere near being released, but at least the website for the fountain now exists. fuck sick, and quite reminiscent of my evolutionary art project.



17.10.05: the problem with ram jamming your weekend with excitement is it leaves you just as exhausted as you were when you finished work on friday. i'd already had a few large glasses of tim's cocktail, so a few sickly-coloured strawberry beers later and i was properly ready for bed. but no. not to be out done by the evening though we tried to get into the late showing of some awful horror film, only to find out that it had finished the previous week. i would have only fallen asleep or wet myself during the film anyway (because i needed the toilet, not because i was scared).

you may have noticed last week that i'd been zombified by tiredness, and you can imagine how much i was looking forward to my saturday morning lie in. you can also imagine how mortified i was when my alarm went off at seven (half an hour early than normal) and i had to get up and out to catch our coach to london. hardcore - i am the embodiment of sleeplessness, insomnia incarnate.

you have to arrive in london early if you want to see three exhibitions. the first of these was 'edvard munch by himself' at the royal academy of arts. by the end of it i was disturbed (maybe shocked) at how someone can paint so many self-portraits. the cam-whorish hobby of taking tacky photos of yourself is one thing, but a painting is a serious undertaking. it's roo much dedication to your own aesthetic immortality (if i ever wrote a wank sentence..) and it just creeps me out. i can get pretty self-obsessed (hey, have you visisted my website?) but self-portraits are incredible. to be honest, i'm not sure i'm a major fan of his painting style - all those colours and wide strokes. i much prefer his lithographic and woodblock prints. but impressive none the less.

next i need to make a shout out to la maison du chocolat, who sell a 7" chocolate tart for £17. i've never smelt a more amazing shop, it made me giddy and too eager to buy a small block of chocolate cake for £3.50. the best chocolate cake though. it was so good i'm still wearing the ribbon the box was tied with around my wrist. i'm not sure why.

the second exhibition was what women want: stories from the women's library - an interesting and harcore collection of feminist memorabilia (not to make it sound cheap or anything). posters, badges, slogans and magazines. i especially liked the 'spare rib' adverts. i think the most interesting part of the exhibition was the feedback wall, if you exclude all the stupid comments that is (such answers to "what makes women beautiful?" like "boobs" and "blowjobs").

several nightmare long tube journeys later (gasping for air) we finally made it to banky's new exhibition - crude oils. clearly the dirtiest gallery i've ever been in, they let you in five at a time for a period of only three minutes and you share the space with around 150 rats. they run along the walls, collect in the corners and occasionally attack an unsuspecting victim. it's interesting to say the least, banksy will never quite play the game will he? despite the obvious hype and focus on the rats, the actual paintings are brilliant and shouldn't be accidently missed because you're spending your three minutes trying to not step on rats. or in their shit. some photos:



because no one told me (and it's probably for the best) we missed rachel whiteread's contribution to the tate modern's unilever series. she was the artist who filled that house full of concrete. all those boxes arn't exactly going anywhere soon, i guess.

we spent most of sunday in our kitchen. i cooked my favourite breakfast of the week and we played cards until 6pm. there was also comic and newspaper reading. getting an early night would have been the best, but instead we went to see royksopp at the event. it could have been much worse. the only thing i can remember through my tiredness is deciding i prefered their first album better. it was pleasent enough.

and that all brings us up to now, where i'm being barraged with hotlinking thanks to google ranking my photo of the pink amnesty international tank for [emo]. the number of people complaining in comments and forums that someone doesn't know what emo means ("whoever said that photo was emo is a 'tard") is starting to really piss me off. you. fucking. internet. noobs. go eat a slice of understanding from the shut-the-fuck-up pie. the chaos i could cause by changing the image to "white power - kill all the gays and emos".. but, a quick check of my moral calculus tells me that the global negative vibes created by this would far outweight any need for retribution on the ignorant myspace masses.



14.10.05: this morning everything is a copy of a copy of a copy. don't ask me any difficult questions or expect me to be able to perform any complicated tasks. you'll get a blank stare and little forgiveness. go and enjoy the trees before i milk this for more than it's worth.

feeling like this, i really need a coffee. the problem is that i can't get the right coffee. i've mentioned our work coffee before, it's more like injecting yourself with four hours of base jumping. that's crap, but the only other simile i can think of is it's like being raped by a panda, which is weird because pandas aren't exactly famous for trying to have sex.

and talking about getting fucked by animals..

i really like this unicef advert. it's probably too subtle, but i like that. it makes me feel clever.

anyway, despite my previous comments (that i was never going to eat in the george again) we ate at the george last night. we had that "enough for two" tapas and they mightily redeemed themselves. it was truly awesome with all kinds of nibbles and nick naks. what it was that really won me over though - the inclusion of smoked applewood cheddar. nice.

and finally, i can't remember how i found this, but rugby's secret has got out - "the intelligence level of the majority of the people in rugby isn't too high"



13.10.05: this morning everything is a copy of a copy of a copy. don't ask me any difficult questions or expect me to be able to perform any complicated tasks. you'll get a blank stare and little forgiveness. go and enjoy the trees before it's too late. go play in the rain.

i really do hate my fucking neighbours though. sure they're actually nice when you talk to them, whatever. but late at night when they're shouting, screaming, dancing on the walls and blaring music out of their open windows, they're a bunch of absolute fucks. i can't blame all my problems on them but it's a good a place as any to start.

last night, despite the rain and my general lack of enthusiasm to do anything but be catatonic and obnoxious, we went to the cinema to see 'a history of violence'. by any means i wouldn't say it was amazing, but i didn't feel like i'd completely wasted those two hours of my life either. for me it was somewhere between 'eyes wide shut' and 'lost highway' (but dude, only because of a guy with scary eyes). that's what i took from it at least, the effect of violence and secrets on the fragility of your relationships. there were a lot of inane and pointless scenes, and many didn't even follow through to some kind of conclusion. but then you could see that as creating thinking space - if you conclude everything then what are you leaving for your audience? of course you can still debate the film's take on it, so my comment is worthless. also there might not have been anything much worth thinking about, i might have imagined it during the abdominal sufferings. it's just a shame about the sex scene. i forgive it of course, i figure maybe cronenberg just can't get over 'crash'. who would? tommy and julie thought far less of the film than i did though. which is a shame because it does kinda ruin your enjoyment of a film when everyone you saw it with thinks it was a proper shitty film. if there was something to forgive there, then i'd forgive it too.

it's just a shame there isn't a single thing we can all have a positive reaction too. and since was me that had that thought i'm blaming myself. that's how it works, because it probably wasn't true until mr negativity over here said it.

when you feel like an exhausted empty shell the good is oft interred with the bones (the only shakespear i ever properly studied). it's passive aggressive. all you know is the negative of what's happened - reclusive freak, undead mass murderer, homeless schizophrenic, dead at 14. all you know is that everyone is pissing you off, and you're pissing them off even more. you'd recognise this as a hurtful downward spiral if only you could focus properly, or do anything about it. it might not be that bad of course, but what would you know? you can't even manage to get your own breakfast together.

it's not a good day for laurence/spanish relations.

i feel like maybe i should go sit in a room on my own for a couple of days, preferably a padded one.



12.10.05: this morning everything is a copy of a copy of a copy. don't ask me any difficult questions or expect me to be able to perform any complicated tasks. you'll get a blank stare and little forgiveness. go and enjoy the trees while you still can.



thursday are so autumn, which is easily the most emo season. so i guess you'll find me amongst the fallen leaves.

remember, only after disaster can we be resurrected.



11.10.05: i want to start a new movement - that's the wrong word but it sounds good. i want you to flatten out the internet, to topple the gigantor sites that have taken it over like starbucks has your high street. where the power of the street lies in the corrupt individual, the power of the web lies in your search engines. the power is there to be manipulated in a unique way - and it needs to be redistributed. all you have to do is change the way you interact with the web. i want you to stop linking to the imdb, link to the film's website instead! i want you to stop linking to amazon, link to the band or author's website instead! it's so obvious and it's so simple, but you see the monsters that you've created?!

a few photos from the millenium seed bank in wakehurst place:



i had a play around with that last one and it ended up looking quite grim. i'd be using that one but i quite liked the warmth in the original photo. or some other wanky bullshit.

check it out, we have our very own suicide girl.



10.10.05: the weekend felt like one of those big mixed affairs. you know the type. you're sitting around on saturday evening with your eyes wide shut, playing a stupid but highly entertaining card game (there's a search term for you) when all of a sudden you realise it's actually sunday night and the fun is over already. remember when monday used to part of the weekend? and tuesday too?

straight after work (and a few frangelico's) we headed into hove for a political themed art opening/preview at (aubergine lover) chris kettle's flat. i wasn't sure what to expect but bip had one of his photos from gaza on display so it could be interesting, and nothing to do with the free bar. we got passed the bouncer (no one told me there was a password!?) and downstairs there was about ten pieces on display from about ten local artists. the standard was pretty high, i don't think there was a filler piece between them. the jazz band was also awesome. i wish i could organise art exhbitions in my house.

the plan for saturday was to go to london and check out the various exhbitions that have recently opened - something feminist and something else. but instead we went to wakehurst place, near haywards heath and part of the kew gardens collective. a bit of forest in the autumn is awesome, there were yellow leaves a plenty. also some fat giant redwood and bridges. i love bridges. there's also a vagina sculpture, honest. but for now you can be content with my photos of the dragonfly who was conveniently drying its wings when we passed:



given time i'll sort the rest of my photos out and put them up with my kew garden photos (there's another search term for you).

strange time happened on saturday night as well as sunday, but we can blame julie's watch battery for that. we must have spent hours lazing about, and when we finally left to go to the cowley club it turns out there's a very loud punk band playing. we ended up in the (strange) bugle. i ended the night by watching 'a very long engagement'. don't get me wrong, it's clearly nowhere near as good as amelie, but it's a very interesting film. unfortunately it is quite hard to follow, especially when you're struggling to keep up with the subtitles and falling half asleep. next time i watch it i'll be completely focused, and not in bed.

after last week, sunday had to be about getting back to cooking our own meals again. scrambled eggs for breakfast and bangers & mash for dinner. it was supreme. and between the food there was chocolate.

anyway. monster munch craving distraction.



07.10.05: so we managed to catch 'howl's moving castle' on its final night. it was all that. at the time i had plenty of interesting things to say about it, but unfortunately it's all floated away. you have to love the world that hayao miyazaki has created - built up from japanese traditions, mythology and many years of studio ghibli. it's twenty years after 'castle in the sky' and his world still feels the same. this new film did scare me though, the war scenes are quite horrific, so much so that i just didn't buy it when the film ended how it did. about now i should realise i don't have anything worth saying about it. if i had time to think over a decent review or something i probably good. but again i find myself wanting to say words like awesome, amazing, fantastic, beautiful, nice and well good. these words after and before other words such as gooey monsters, dream sequences, robots, flying stuff and twisted magic realities. oh, it's just imaginitive fairy tales innit. what more can you say?

but it's finished at the duke's now, so you're going to have to watch this french short instead.

the bbc's picture power series (part of the 50th anniversary of the annual photographic competition) has been fascinating. they've picked five photographers to write about their award winning work. it's pretty special.



06.10.05: the last three tshirts i've bought/acquired have all been red. it still doesn't make up for that belly tshirt that i didn't buy when i was 14 though. i don't know why i'm telling you this either.

i guess i have nothing much to say.

i do need to get out though. get out and do something. my evenings are all turning into the same. i blame the fact that it's dark when i finally get home. and now that we've run out of popcorn i don't know what to do.

i kinda wanna see this film - hinikio. make it happen please.



05.10.05: incidentally, giant squid are my favourite animal. so i'm totally excited right now. 10p to the first person to find a copy of the video.

since there are so many of my kilimanjaro photos on my site i thought i'd pick out a few of my favourites. so, here are the photographs of the amani kids and mountain that i'm most happy with:









tim also has some amazing photos here, by the way.

and don't run in the hallway.



04.10.05: here's me going on a bit of an ego trip. it's all about me.

check out these dumb idiots talking about my 'emo tank':

"people need to stop this misconception of emo"
"yeah civil rights are SO emo "
"WHOA! How'd they get a tank?!?"

well i laughed. my site was "emo" before your scene even fucking existed emo kid. and wouldn't it be google's misconception of emo? i don't know, to be honest it isn't even worth thinking about, nevermind writing down.

it is weird how your photos get passed around the internet though. check out these comments. that and the amnesty international tank photo are getting hotlinked left, right and centre. it's so frustrating that my hosting doesn't support htaccess so i can stop it from happening.

and also, someone else is trying to kill me, here's the proof - "i commented on how little impact laurence ashmore's murder seemed to have made". i don't know who jonathan kellerman is, but he sure doesn't like me. "ashmore was a jerk - an obnoxious little schmuck", and apparently i'm also a "weird bird".


i want to see the rock the future exhibition so bad.



03.10.05: it's been a real nice weekend. don't you just love this time of year? the cold is beautiful and comforting. i mean, in enough weeks it's going to be harsh, but right now it's perfect. just like in the music video.

so i kept it quiet before, because it was my secret and i was keeping it all to myself, but julie is back in town. we went for dinner in the new but not-so-good-looking 'food for friends'. most of the meal was accompanied by an ambulance sitting patiently outside, while a woman passed out all around the restuarant. i've never seen someone alive looking so dead. it didn't ruin out meal though (that was the job of the unfinishable ubermensch trifle - like eating a whole jar of jam), all it did was leave a vague morbid aftertaste in my mouth for the whole weekend.

it's tom's birthday today (and also johanna's - happy birthday) so i was up in london again. we spent a couple of hours at ben and corey's new pad before heading all the way across town to tom's. they'd filled the house with 99 red balloons and we drunk fast. it seemed like we spent more time travelling than partying. the journey home was just painful.

we spent the rest of sunday lazing back at corey's and ben's. fried breakfast and roast dinner. you see, the evenings are coming in quicker but they're getting cosier too. i can't wait until i live in a nice house.


have you noticed how the new police motorbikes look like the ones from judge dread? or perhaps it's just me.



30.09.05: on the way to work this morning (while it was smelling of amaretti, or perhaps almond croissant) i decided that it had been too long since i'd written about anything technical or website related. there's a reason for this which is that no one is really interested, but i don't care.

i'm hoping that you've noticed all of my images load up in a popup window (this worked just great until recently [apart from a certain mac browser but whatever], thank you very much google toolbar). this is done in javascript so that i can control the size of the new window and can close the previous picture window. there's a problem though, and this is that the search engines don't (generaly speaking) look at javascript, so my images and their pages weren't being indexed at all. it never bothered me until i started doing rather well in google images (too well as far as xanga/myspace users are concerned, you fucks) based soley on my tiny 68x68 thumbnails.

so the other week i went through my site and began to place 'noscript' tags after every thumbnail. each tag contains a standard html link to the image or page, along with some tasty optimised anchor text. google can now happily index nearly all of my images, and because i have individual pages for some of them i've now over double the amount of pages indexed too.

my next thought was what am i going to do with these pages? if someone visits one from a search engine then all they see is the image and a brief description - it simply wont do. so i placed a link back to my homepage and also a link back to the section where the image can be found. what more usuability could you ask for? the next thing i did was place adsense on every one of them, and of course you only ever see this if you've found the photo from one of the search engines (done in the same way as on my homepage).

so far this has worked really well. infact, for the last three consecutive days i've incrementally recieved the most unique visitors i've ever had. i think 630 people looking at your site in a single day is reasonably impressive, for a personal site at least. but then perhaps not for a professional seo.

and while on the subject of seo, check me out getting quoted on seroundtable.com.

anyway, enough of this i'm off to have fun with my woman.



29.09.05: after nearly four months i've finally recieved my first adsense payment. is that exciting or what? a fat £124.20 deposited itself right into my account this morning and i've been smiling ever since. it's a humble beginning to my great capitalist internet adventures.

a debate on where this money actually comes from is something we can have later.


if you're lucky you wont have noticed that it's spider season again. they're flocking in from the cold and some of them are just too huge. about a week ago the biggest bastard appeared in the corner of our bathroom. i figured i'd let the harmless chap be and the following day he'd gone, but only to reappear on the stairs. i know what you're doing, i thought, you're bloody heading for my room.

i'm not sure how spiders can get so damn large, but i wasn't going to argue with it. throwing it out using the tried and tested 'glass and card' technique didn't look exactly viable. maybe if i left my door shut then it'd go into joel's/vicky's room instead?

again, the next morning it had vanished. then a few days later (yesterday) the fucker remerged while i was cleaning my room - right under my bean bag, the size of a small pig (or something). it took a team effort to catch him but we finally nailed him. in hindsight i wish we'd used a bowl or something less distorting, but here are some photos:



why are we scared of spiders? are you fucking kidding me? after zooming in on the photos i was instantly terrified of it. i couldn't even bare to pick up the glass to throw him out of the window. tommy did a fine job and the poor helpless spider went crashing down into the pavement below. so it goes.

actually it probably survived just fine and is now crawling around our lounge, waiting.



28.09.05: vicky is trying to kill me. i'm not atempting to be dramatic here, but before hassling truckers for a lift back to athens she planted a number of lethal devices around our house. actually, it might have been marseille. i can't say for sure.

this is the lovely greek vicky who lived with us a while back. and each one of her traps has been clevely designed to look like an innocent but catastrophic accident. i am to set fire to myself, i am to cut myself, i am to fall down the stairs. and it's nothing but the result of my own stupidity. i'll burn to death, i'll die in a pool of my own blood, i'll break my neck.

perhaps she was angry at me for hiding her cigarettes. perhaps it was my dislike for john frusciante. perhaps it was because i went away without saying a proper goodbye.

so last night i did the irregular clear out of our fridge. i figured it was time and (what i thought was) tommy's orange juice had been there for far too long. it had begun to leak and the contents were dripping down to the bottom of the fridge where the vegetables reside. oh, doesn't this just seem perfectly innocent? when i should have twigged was when tommy told me it wasn't his, but we simply joked that it must have been vicky's, she never finished anything. so i'm laughing as i move to sink and begin to unscrew the bottle top. and all it takes is the slightest nudge - the top explodes barely missing my face and hits the ceiling. this happens so quickly that had you blinked you'd have missed it. we're both stunned and my left ear is actually ringing from the explosion. i nearly died.

there is a dent in our ceiling to prove it.

later the policeman tells us that that bacteria in the orange juice would have been multiplying. that the gas they produce would have slowly filled the bottle until it was ready to be detonated. they ask me if i know anyone who might want me dead. they ask me if i have any enemies, if i know anyone who knows how to make homemade explosives from simple household objects. he tells me not to leave town.

meanwhile vicky is long gone, lying in the sun and listening to john frusciante.



27.09.05: 'v for vendetta' has been put back until next year (oh how could they?), but you could always pop down to brighton this week to get your quick fix. especially if you want to see what £3.7million worth of armed police looks like. i'd take a photograph to show you myself but i don't want to get shot by the snipers (yes, eight times). those machine guns they've got, they're not toys. the police are walking around the city with them like you could actually use them in a public space.

and as if throwing guns around isn't enough, the police have been given the power to stop and search you for no reason (i presume that's what "if the person is acting suspiciously or not" means). bip has already been stopped and searched for taking photos on the sea front and i don't really fancy it myself.

apparently we also have royal navy ships to "patrol the shoreline", excuse me?

and while all this is going on, i noticed that there isn't any cctv around the new north lanes starbucks building (yet). so how about someone goes down there and scrawls "but we don't want another starbucks" all over it? it wouldn't hurt would it? i'd do it myself but i have my own plans..

this is one month before some crazy fucker blows the place up and obviosuly i'm the main suspect.



26.09.05: my short term lifestyle has been going downhill - in london for three consecutive days, drinking too much whiskey for two of them, and it can't be good having cheese and pickle sandwiches for breakfast every morning either. i've been busy, what have you been doing?

my first stop in london (it's saturday) is the riflemaker gallery for the william burroughs exhibition. "dead aim" is compromised of (what are basically crude) paintings which have been shot through several times by burroughs and his smith and wesson .38 special. i can't quite put my finger on it but there's something hilarious about them, my favourite being the "french policeman" and "sanctimonious cop". worth seeing if you're passing and very cool, but i wouldn't go too far out of your way.

i then had a shot of wheatgrass. tastes bloody funny and the colour is horrific but it's the absolute shit. sent me quite funny, kind of like absinthe but without the alcohol. i highly recommend it. infact, i might have to start cultivating it myself.

then after some messing around with my parents (i'd like to blame them but i'm not sure i really can) we finally met up with ray and alison and all their friends. we only travelled halfway in the wrong direction across london first. they're leaving for australia soon and thought it'd be nice to have a thames boat party. it's a strange thing, but for me it was less of a party and more of a ride (the music/people combination just wasn't worth dancing for). the view though. from the river you get to really appreciate the architecture along the thames, and as dusk settles the city looks fantastic. especially the sparkling grey hulk of canary wharf against the light-polluted sky. another highlight was the thames barrier, what even the fuck is that anyway? i think maybe the americans would laugh in horror at our flood defenses. it looks spectacular when you sail through it though it has to be said. in the end i was enjoying lying on a bench, the bridges sliding by above/below me. perhaps it was all the whiskey, who knows.

i was up early the next morning (after sleeping on the comfiest leather couch) and killed a few hours undirectionaly wandering about london. i'd managed to get myself to peckham for midday and finally got to check out the south london gallery (after failing so fantastically the day before). really, i just wanted to see mark dion's giant hanging mole (animal). it was worth it.

last week i recieved a mysterious letter at work. addressed to me with no sender information, it contained a number of newspaper clippings. we love this shit. so on the train back from london i began to read them. the first was a rather give away article about fuck for forests and was quite well humoured. the second was about the massacre in uzbekistan and it totally ruined my day. unfortunately i couldn't find an online version of this incredible article, but there's a few less detailed and somewhat confused ones over at the guardian and bbc. i can't believe the media hasn't covered this better.

incidentally, it was the last day of summer yesterday. you can tell because it smelt like the first. if i wasn't so tired you would have found me in the park pretending it was spring.



23.09.05: finally, i'd like to unveil (drum roll please) my kilimanjaro photos. go easy, this kind of bandwidth hurts.



22.09.05: it's true, i just havn't been doing anything. i've been staying late (like eight) at the office every night - a mixture of work and play never fear - and have been reading harry potter and watching scrubs with tommy. it's a dull lifestyle but i've been enjoying its simplicity.

so, i guess now would be a good time to draw upon my archive of amusing/disturbing search referals. in chronological order:

dirtiest girl who lives where a pig lives in dirty water
people who work naked
photos of deaf people in the walkabout pub in brighton
stupid google!!!!!!!just tell me how to get digimon movies
lovely picture bugs buny
okay look google i'm horny as shit give me some good links
wwf wrestling duvet covers
her suicide is painless
bono is a twat tshirt
painful cramps watery green poo
pepsi extracted from pig
do people ware clothes in a hot desert
philippines prostitutes for 10p
woman fucked by horse then dying bloodloss
halifax why don't you go fuck a pig?
inspector gadget penny walking around naked
previously banned videos of 14 year old girls being fist fucked
chilling out in baby pool full of pudding.
i banged my head and my eyes feel funny
sexy vomiting pics
10 naked girl in hot tub and there being wacht be some guys
reasons for developing a crush on someone
paedophile information exchange
meaning behind chris martin's tattoo fair trade
orgasming over and over
nick moaned when alison was sucking on him
straight lads wank
how to remove irn bru stains
flaming monkeys
nicola from derby topless
boobs crushing cans
emo is stealing our women
bestiality fuuuuck
creamy muck muck
download papa smurf song can i like your butt for free

incase you're wondering what the hell those mean, they're the phrases that people have searched for in google and found my site as a result. the mind boggles doesn't it?

seriously though, yes some of them are really fucked up, but some of them are just hilarious - my favourite being "bono is a twat tshirt". it's so typical of my site.



21.09.05: since the last few weeks tommy has been working at his new job as a carer. now every evening he comes home with hilarious and beautiful stories about the people he cares for. the crazed elderly. the senile or comatosed. the demented and dying.

i've started looking forward to these conversations, the daily run down of life surrounded by people on the verge. we laugh uncontrollably as he recounts the story about the woman who viscously lashes out as you try to change her soiled clothes, or the man in the wheelchair who says he has to violently defend himself from hordes of kids in woolworths, or the ex-alcholic who doesn't even realise he's a resident, or the man who died - his one glass eye still staring out from behind his pale blue face.

it sounds twisted, morbid and cruel of us. but it isn't at all. would tommy be doing this job if he didn't really care about the people? you must love your job if after every nights work you're washing other peoples shit out of your clothes. or it might be piss. or vomit. or blood, if you were really unlucky.

no one is laughing at these people. it's almost like you're laughing at yourself. i didn't mean to write that like it sounded like i was trying to be deep or some shit like that, so nevermind.



20.09.05: i had dinner with steph again last night. actually it was only supposed to be a drink but i was just too hungry to last out. i enjoyed the veggie antipasto but there was a splinter of plastic in my humous. i'm the kind of guy who can overlook this as mistake and forget about it. but anyway, me and steph have this weird discourse. there are vertical conservations that run perpendicular to our actual conversations. like every tangent is actually a jump to another conversation in this awkwardly designed meta-conversation. i'd suggest that it's perhaps the amount of coffee that he drinks, but he quit that last week. so perhaps it's to do with the medium we're dabbling with - each month you read small portions of several bigger stories that are all running in parallel, but at right angles to your own story (like if you're one of those people who watch every soap every night). or perhaps it's just me imagining it. either way it's definately different to how i talk with other people.

on returning home the first thing i found was tommy's lost front door key, right where you'd expect it to be. which is also the last place you'd want to find it, or it be found rather - in the front door, where it had been wedged for the last twelve hours.

no worries though, the only things that had been stolen were jess's piano, grilly's bed, tom's buffalo and the rubbish bag out of my room. what we've done now is tie the key to tommy's wrist using a stretchy piece of string and a wristband that's too tight. if he manages to do it again the wristband is going around his neck. capisce?

the most disturbing video i've seen since chris cunningham's last mechanized offering. beautiful innit?



19.09.05: i used to hate london (hate isn't the right word but it's the first one that comes to mind), but on friday i didn't feel even a hint of it. i was comfortable and at peace. residing there all of a sudden didn't seem so bad. i'll now notch it in my bedpost as a distant future possibility. and it got me wondering why i had the sudden change of heart. was it kilimanjaro? was it that i'm moving to copenhagen? was it that i was meeting johanna? i'm pretty sure it was none of those. i think i just simply got over it. and whether it took me one year or three, it's about fucking time.

hanging out with jo was brief but fun, and fantastically casual. really i was way too tired (ever since i got back off that damn mountain) to even converse properly, and jo was sick, but it was all good. i even got to sleep in a proper bed, so that when at 8am i was woken by a phone call from julie i had no idea where i was. i guessed that i was in africa, it honestly seemed the most plausible option. this was after spending a bizarre few seconds trying to work out how to actually answer my phone, and was followed by me trying to explain how confused i was and what is going on anyway? strangest i've felt in ages.

on the train from london to rugby i finally started to understand my camera and all the wonderful things that it can do. i just wish i'd been able to explore all the menus and options before i'd taken it up kilimanjaro. but then, i barely knew what i was doing when i was up there anyway, nevermind when taking photographs. so here's some photos of simon, the little boy next door:



and a big thank you to laura for sorting out my dealings with the inland revenue which resulted this morning in one fat check hitting my doormat. i was so excited that i forgot my other check entirely, and now have to go back to the post office again tomorrow. also congratulations on the baby, and all that.



16.09.05: oh shit, the summer has ended. and everything has changed.

isn't today host to the best weather of the year though?



15.09.05: last night me and tom went to the local world development movement meeting. actually it was more like a talk or debate. on the agenda was the failure of the un millenium development goals, what's next for the make poverty history campaign and the failure of lulu's party in brazil (a pretty depressing tale from hilary wainwright, editor of red pepper magazine). i was worried it was going to be a bit hardcore but it wasn't at all, it was straight forward and very interesting. definately well worth the time and effort (i missed my pudding). it was also nice to know they thought bob geldof was a twat as well (not exactly their words, but still). they have another meeting next monday but i can't remember the details, i'm helpful like that.

apart from this i havn't been doing anything. holiday decompressure is high on the agenda, along with compiling and editing the various media i've acquired from it. i only just washed all of my gear, and my equipment is still spread out across my bedroom floor. this will take some time. i'm also supposed to be hanging out with johanna tomorrow but i havn't heard anything from her. she's probably on the plane from tokyo by now as well. what's a boy supposed to do?

i guess there's always pollock. and if you have the time and interest look up the study into the fractal complexity of his work as he got older, and how it slowly approached that of the real world. fascinating no?



14.09.05: oh well, fuck the dr.

"lets get along instead of just getting by. everything is open to interpretation."

coke know everything about this, of course.



13.09.05: i'm worried that i have frost bite in my big toe. also there's the biggest and deepest bruise i've ever seen on my right knee. plus today is my first proper day back at work so i'm just being a whinge bag. but if my toe doesn't feel better tomorrow, or it starts going black, i'm taking it straight to the doctor. so far no signs of malaria or yellow fever though.

for any who hasn't seen this month's source (centre fold no less) they say the following lovely things about my site:

"Nothing to do with emo music - "I know I've complicated the matter by liking the odd emo band but please just deal with it" - this site is noteworthy for its author's frank admission that "I probably have nothing of real interest for you". He's wrong, or course: as well as his curious likes (emotive eyebrows and parallel lines of different widths) and dislikes (pre-heating ovens), he offers money for the assassination of Richard Littlejohn, writes a ranting letter to Costa Coffee (whilst admitting he's a dickhead for doing so), does funny things with fridge magnets and turns peoples' TVs off around town with a remote control gadget. Plently of day-to-day Brighton stuff too, plus excellent photos and graphics."

they even included a tiny snapshot of my site inside an oven - hopefully brian wood wont notice they stole my graphic that i'd stolen from him and he wont sue. i'm thinking that maybe i should explain my dislike of pre-heating ovens. it's pretty simple, between the time you switch your oven on and the time you put your food in, most of the energy has been wasted. and think about it, the sooner you put your food in the oven the sooner it's going to be cooked. you're wasting time as well as resources. it's just the most ridiculous thing people do, and everybody does it. imagine all the time and energy we'd save if all of you learnt how to cook, rather than blindly following instructions. it mostly harks back to my student days when someone would forget they'd started cooking, in favour of beer or neighbours or some shit, and return to a baking hot kitchen two hours later. numbskulls.

as for the eyebrows, i'd rather keep that quite to myself.



12.09.05: waking up for the hundredth time today and i'm finally in my own bed. it doesn't make me any less confused but it's comforting none the less. people keep telling me that it's gone so quick. they have no idea - it's been months that i've been away. in africa we've aged years. we've been nearly six kilometers up and we're met over seventy orphaned children, all of them incredible.

you'll have to wait for my journal and photos, but you can rest assured that it was the most extreme twelve days you could spend away from home. at least, as long as no one dies or falls in love. i've never been more equally exhausted and enthralled by the world. i mean, lets be honest, what could you do that is more worthwhile than this?



and before i'd done them (climb kilimanjaro and hand over a check for £10,000 to the amani kids) there's nothing anyone could have said to me that would've given me any idea what they were going to feel like. the best and the worst all at the same time.

anyway, i have photos to work on.



31.08.05: today is my websites fourth birthday. so i'd like you all to wish, sing or serenade it a very happy birthday. whichever way you feel fit, i don't mind.

myself, i'm off up a mountain in tanzania for twelve days (here for info about my charity climb) so there wont be any updating. it's a bit of a shame since i appear to be featured in the source this month. pretty exciting stuff.

erm, yeah. so i guess i'll see everyone when i get back. bye.



30.08.05: yeah you can smell freshly cut grass in the morning, and you can pretend it all you like, but this isn't going to make your tuesday any better than the last. this isn't what my weekend felt like though. what it felt like was more akin to a series of short anecdotes, which is convenient really, because that's the only way i can really convey it.

we've gone to the black lion after work (for the second night running) and tommy has come down to hang out. i quickly pop to the toilet and he sits down with a group of people who i work with. i had a reasonably good trip to the toilet, but when i get back to the table there's a few embarrassed looks and my boss says to me "your friend sure knows how to make conversation". now it's not his fault, and the damage was minor, but the first thing tommy says when he sits down is "so, laurence is leaving spannerworks then".

the problem with buying a nice new digital camera is dealing with your old analogue camera, and more specifically - the film inside it. you want to use your new camera, but you've got twenty two photo's left in the old one. photo's that you're going to have to pay for. it's frustrating, even though it'll be exciting when you get the two year old film back. those fourteen photos that have been completely forgotten. some ugly or beautiful memories, at least for now it's a mystery. i guess this is why you bother.

later in the day we're standing on the london road, one of the less nice areas of brighton, and a car has parked up beside us, there's two kids in the back and one in the front. i'd guess at them being between seven and thirteen at a push. i'm standing there watching them repeatedly throw rubbish out of their car window. a haagen daz lid, a dairylea lunchable box, a chocolate wrapper, a juice drink carton. and for each piece of litter i walk up to the car, pick it up and purposefully place it in the bin next to the car. every time. if i'd only had the guts to put the litter back through the window of the car. if only, then i could have recieved a right good beating from their parents, standing just five meters down the road.

we went to see jaws on the beach. the security was acting all tight, but i managed to blag my way in with someone else's ticket and no id. i explained to the man my sob story, he said it was fine and then proceeded to tell me i needed id. "but you just said i didn't need any", and the guy working with him agreed, "you did, just let him in". after me, the man then tried to deny entrance to the people behind me for the same reason. since i'd got my wristband already i figured i'd butt in with "yeah, but you let me in without id". it didn't really make sense, and the whole event wasn't really worth it either. there were too many people and the beer was stupidly expensive. we had a baby's push chair across the screen for most of the film. for the rest of the film we'd just left.

there's a new sweet shop in town. a proper sweet shop, and i'm walking around it in amazement. they have everything. i'm filling my basket with all kinds of awesome things: butterscotch lifesavers, reed's rootbeer sweets, cadburys peanut butter chocolate bars, almond m&ms. it's the best thing ever until i realise i'm holding over six pounds worth of candy. could you really pay £1.12 for a pack of m&ms? i console myself with a single pack of butterscotch lifesaves, they have always been my favourite after all.

we spend sunday on the beach. it's james's birthday and we have the biggest barbecue ever - there was over thirty vege sausages. as the night descends we're fantastically unequipped with torches. i'm going to die up this mountain y'know.

in a similar fashion, i spend the best hour of monday lying in preston park reading while two kids/dinosaurs battled around us. "raaaargh, i'm tyranasoaaar". "i'm the same as you". "there's the ball, touch it and transform". it was the cutest and best.



26.08.05: last night was jamie's leaving party, if "party" is the right word. it was a night of pubs and restuarant. i finally managed to get my butt into the casa don carlos tapas bar (opposite the font). i've wanted to eat there for ages. it's not amazing, but their tatas bravas and manchego are especially tasty. you will also have noticed i was drinking guiness and red wine - for the iron innit? and you wouldn't believe how fun the music in the black lion was, for real. anyway, i left before it all got a bit nasty. good thinking because half of the people at work today are completely wasted, and they're the ones that made it in.

so, a photo of london that i've had knocking about for a while:



sometime soon i'll put up my photos from kew gardens (actually they're already on here somewhere if you're really bothered, but whatever). they're a bit mixed and i managed to really mess some of them up.

i spent my lunch optimising my images. the funky way in which i pop my images up means that they don't get spidered. this never really bothered me but i thought i'd fix it anyway. it's a lot of extra content bursting with love for googlebot. it's pretty uninteresting but worth making a note of so i know when actually did it, right?

can you tell i'm feeling uninspired?

which reminds me, mc donalds are dropping their vegetarian options and cutting most of their "healthy" (and ideal for vegetarians) salads. i guess when they put them on their menu they weren't thinking that most vegetarians are so because they care about what they eat. needless to say, we wont be missing them.



25.08.05: outside you can feel autumn breaking. i wager if you listen carefully enough you can hear the first leaf fall - squealing all the way down to it's wet and crispy death. i love autumn (i'm so contradictory), especially when you can still feel the hazy debris of summer. you can bet your ass this is the best time of the year. maybe you don't have the excitment that the start of summer holds, but you do have crisp mornings and breezy evenings. vive autumn in august!

possibly relating to autumn, i had sleater kinney in my head all the way to work this morning. it was a sign i tell you. it turns out they're playing brighton november 8th. if any of you non-brighton people want me to pick you up a ticket then let me know asap. and they're not playing london, so brighton is your only and best option.

but isn't mélange such an awesome word?

on a more important note, federal judge oks global warming lawsuit. because of their high contribution to global warming the overseas private investment corporation and the export import bank of the united states are being sued by a group of organisations including friends of the earth and greenpeace. the trick is that the two agencies are funding projects in other countries, and the national environmental policy act currently doesn't cover overseas operations. the group taking the agencies to court are arguing that it should, as climate change effects everyone. it doesn't mean they've won the case, but at least they've been allowed to try.



24.08.05: incase you havn't had the chance to see it yet, i thought i'd put up my photos of the graffiti around the new england quarter building site (up behind the train station):




it was organised by the brighton hip hop festival people and it's awesome in every way.

were not wasting paper [or grammar]
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