news [archive 20]

10.01.06: last night i cooked an awesome chilli, and afterwards drank a lot of nice wine. it was a good bottle. then me, julie and emil sat around in the living room and created ourselves a boardgame to play. i don't think we gave it a name yet but it was hilarious.

you make you way to 'anarchy' along a snaking yellow brick road, travelling through america, nazi germany, russia, iraq, cambodia and finally burma. on the way you have to avoid the prison of each country (guantanamo bay, auschwitz, siberia, abu ghraib, s-21 and the triumph sweatshop). there are also other obstacles, such as the berlin wall and world trade center terror attacks:

to make the game even more exciting (like it wasn't enough already) there are a stack of event cards, which must be added to before each game. when your counter (which might be a swastika, a starbuck's cup, a dollar or the pope's hat) lands on a purple square you recieve an event card and suffer the consequences. these cards include:

your country owes a billion dollars to the world bank. go back three squares or privatize and go back three squares

a suicide bomber kills some people, but you've heard all this before. whatever. continue as normal like nothing happened

the united nations says they don't want you to move next turn. if you are the $ or in america then ignore them

if you are in the usa or germany you are obviously priviliged. roll the die and go forwards double that number. if you are in any other country roll a die and go back that number

america found oil in cambodia. you are fucked if you are in the country, run to burma

you ate in mcdonals. either kill yourself, start again or go back three squares - whichever you think is suitable punishment

israel starts nuclear war. everyone dies.

torture an iraqi to go forward four squares or read noam chomsky to go forward two

it's 1937 and ww2 starts. if you are in germany invade russia! if you are elsewhere go to the berlin wall

you see a muslim! run back three squares

you are fired from your work at the american radiostation for playing a dixie chicks song. move 4 squares back

you seek asylum in iraq. continue on straight away cos they have no beaurocracy

you buy a pair of nike shoes. you run fast and move five squares forward. you realise they are made in a sweatshop. wait one turn

after three games we had nearly 100 of these. further incarnations of the game will include trivia questions and tortures in prison (you already get electrocuted every turn you spend in abu ghraib, but we need to work on the logistics of it).

this game is going to make for a lot of happy people next christmas..

needless to say i was feeling a bit rough this morning. luckily i got my breakfast in bed, on a mcdonalds tray and everything.

then after some faffing about trying to get into christiania, which had been blocked off by police officers due to a bomb scare, i cycled over to the overpræsidium to try again ti get a residence permit. they checked my forms, passport and bank statements and after a short interview said they'd be sending me a letter shortly. it was quite nerve racking, but i guess it should be right? and i especially enjoyed the bike ride. i might look like a pansy on julie's girls bike but sitting upright and taking it easy is so fun. once you've learnt how to navigate the cycle paths the stress just melts away. especially exciting was cycling through the steam escaping from a grill on the pavement by the metro stop. just like in the movies..

and now there's a moose outside our front door.

09.01.06: i'm finding it hard to get up in the morning. there i am in this huge bed, all snug and warm, with no urgency to do anything (apart from get up before the water is switched off today at 11am til 3pm), it's just too comfy. i have to ease myself up, pry myself into the waking world with a book (or breakfast in bed would be nice, hint hint). from alarm to shower it's currently taking me over an hour. i think i can improve this if i start reading my book sooner

since i finished 'cats cradle' i've been reading audrey niffenegger (no jokes about her last name please). 'the time travellers wife' is the kind of book that i wish i'd written. how audrey introduces and explores the rules of her time travel whilst also introducing the characters is so satisfying to read. her forshadowing is perfect. i also like that the first time and date mentioned in the book is exactly six minutes after i was born (taking into account time differences, of course). so whilst i was bleeding all over some midwife, henry was busy skidding across a forest-green-carpeted hallway in ohio, also naked. isn't that beautiful? and another thing, it's the most colourful novel i've ever read. if you know me at all you'll know how much i love colours. it feels like up until now i've been reading in black and white.

and then to breakfast. my new favourite cereal is ymerdrys, which is primarily rye bread crumbs so i guess it's not really a cereal at all. you springle it on your yoghurt, my current favourite of that being appelsin (real name "orange" if you'll believe it).

the danish love rye bread. they also love flødeboller, which you'll probably recognise as marshmallow cakes. here they call them negerboller, which translates as "nigger buns". you can't make this shit up.

08.01.06: no one told me that shops shut early on saturday in denmark, so the shopping trip was mostly unsuccessful, in terms of me getting my keys cut anyway. me and emil picked up a couple of bags of shopping to make an awesome pizza and scavenged a (sort of) nice cabinet for my computer and books. i think julie was impressed, with the cabinet at least - she'd already had pizza.

i also discovered the wonders of cherry wine, a sickly steal at 14kr. it smells of marzipan and glacier cherries. i'm sure that enough of it will make you as ill too. when i was really young, one of the times we went shopping to milton keynes, i ate too much marzipan and was sick in my sleep. i didn't even notice until the morning, except that it was cold and wet everytime i rolled over onto my right side.

anyway, we went for a walk today around the stradsgraven lake that seperates christianshavn, where christinia is, and amager where we live. it only takes two minutes and you are completely out of the city. i took a few photos of the houses along the side of lake (which i think are part of christiania even though they're on the wrong side). the first photo is off the little area that we live in. our apartment is in the building behind that one, down the little street to its right.

our route back took us through christiania, which was exciting because i'd never even seen it before. it reminded me a lot of glastonbury, except the buildings have been built properly. there's a few fun looking cafes and shops, but unfortunately there's also a "no photographs" policy, the huge "no photo" sign painted on the side of the building looks so photogenic as well.

07.01.06: i'm starting to feel i'm beginning to feel settled in. if that sentence sounds complicated to you then it's for a reason. i'm comfortable while doing the shopping and we've got our wardrobe built and residing in the corner. it looks like a real bedroom. i've even almost got around to sorting out some paid work.

last night a few of emil's friends came over, which was nice but intimidating. being surrounded by drunk danish people who i don't know still makes me uncomfortable. is that in contraposition to my previous paragraph? i feel such a pain making people talk in english. it is rude though, right? it was crazy for a while and i hid in my room (i was working anyway) until some of them had left. then we watched an awful film called 'evil ed'. it really was bad though. and i spent most of it in fear of tobias falling on me.

now i have to go out and get my keys cut.

06.01.06: i just did my first bin run. well, taking the recycling out. the building where we live is built around a large oblong courtyard. this is actually pretty cool, but there are strict rules like "no ball games", "no shouting down to your kids in the courtyard", etc. near our apartment is a small playground area with a sandpit, looking lost almost amongst the last few remaining clumps of snow. the bins are at the opposite end and about halfway down is a little 'hut' to dump your larger garbage. big stuff other people might want, such as chairs, computers or christmas trees. someone had thrown out a small child's bike, which yous would have ridden around the courtyard too. this is what i quit my job for. this is why i changed my life so dramatically. so that in the middle of the day i can act like a child. i ride around on a tiny bicycle, my knees up at my chin, grinning like a crazy fool. my heart is exploding with joy as i complete my final lap, narrowly missing an icy patch of snow.

this is in apt contrast to yesterday's cycling antics. julie had provided me with the task of meeting her outside building 12 at her university at 10am. copenhagen probably has the best cycle network of any city. i can't remember seeing a road without a cycle path and i can remember seeing a cycle path without a bunch of cyclists. the cycle lanes even have their own traffic lights. there are rules and etiquettes to this system that i don't even know, and as the argus kindly pointed out i am a "rouge cyclist", so my first experience of it is terrifying. it doesn't help that the cycle lanes are on the wrong side of the road, i'm lost in the middle of city that can't even name it streets, and my leg is beginning to cramp up from riding an unfamiliar bike. i don't really know where i am and i'm cycling past a frozen lake. the chill is getting under my shirt and a pocket of freezing air surrounds my body. this is no fun this early before breakfast. then when i finally reach the university, not having a clue how late i am, i can't even find where i'm supposed to meet julie, as building 12 is cunningly hidden behind building 13. it turns out i'm not late at all but i refuse to cycle any further without a hot chocolate and a sit down.

the plan for the morning was to make me 'legitimate'. we cycled down into the city, locked our bikes and strode into the relevant office to register me living here. the woman is nice. the woman next to her is not, and i'm wondering why she has to interupt with "he needs a residents permit" (it might have been "residence" but i couldn't tell through her danish accent). "mind your own fucking business" is what i didn't say back. instead julie spoke a bunch of norwegian and we were redirected to where i can get the necessary permit. they placed this office on the other side of town on purpose, i swear. cycling along the roads i just want to cry and go home, let them try and deport me, i'll just get married, i don't care, whatever. once there, and we're inside in the warmth, i'm being asked another bunch of questions i don't really understand. i tell the man that i'm looking for employment, what i don't say is that i'll basically be doing whatever they say i can or have to do. i need a passport, photos and bank statements that i don't have. i need to fill in a big form. after all this i'm so tired i can't even figure out whether the morning has been a success or not.

we grabbed lunch at this tortoise place that is amazing in every way. my heart goes out to all the tortoises. then we got burnt almonds and went shopping. i've wanted to go shopping since i arrived. i've walked around the city but on my own without someone telling me what everything is, which is far less fun. we look in some stores but towels and double duvets are expensive. there's a shopping centre just outside of town, a short ride on the metro, where we bought towels, duvet and a much needed wardrobe (a steal at under 300kr).

after my first ride on the metro would be a good time to write about the metro. the metro is cool. the train is fronted by a huge plexiglass window, so as the train burrow through the illuminated tunnels you can see everything. it's like being at an amusement park. south of copenhagen the train emerges from it's underground tunnel and continues along a track raised above the ground. it curves around some half-constructed industrial building site and then travels in a perfect straight line to the horizon. it feels more futuristic than i should let it. the actual view is a flat patchy nothing of snow, grass and concrete that's intermittently interrupted by the most ridiculous architecture. scandinavia is awesome.

in other news, science finally catches up with marketing and tells us what we've all known for decades, a brand tastes better

05.01.06: i havn't been writing so much. i suspect this might be because i've been writing more and better emails. so if you've recieved an email from me recently, what you've actually recieved is a small and personalised fragment of my website. please look after it, i might want it back one day.

04.01.06: it's actually almost sunny outside. the snow has melted and i should really leave the house to embrace it. i have no key though, and it's only going to be colder than it looks. the other thing i've learnt is that i really need to take a course in danish. what i wont be searching for is "learn danish in denmark".

two days ago i finished reading dan brown's "masterpiece", yeah whatever. i don't mean to be a fuck and holier than whatever whatever, i did enjoy it and everything, it just didn't move me like a decent book would. like cat's cradle', which i started reading this morning. here is an appropriate section of it:

i found my apartment wrecked by a nihilistic debauch. krebbs was gone; but, before leaving, he had run up three-hundred-dollars' worth of long-distance calls, set my couch on fire in five places, killed my cat and my avocado tree, and torn the door off my medicine cabinet. he wrote this poem, in what proved to be excrement, on the yellow linoleum floor:

[i can't be bothered to type the poem up]

there was another message, written in lipstick in a feminine hand on the wallpaper over my bed. there was a sign hung around my dead cat's neck. it said, miaow.

just replace "krebbs" for "simona". i read this while sitting on our sofa next to an italian. the smell of my coffee that i'm supposed to be giving up is enough to give me heart palpatations. i must hunt down this kurt vonnegut. i must make him confess everything that he knows.

my anger still runs deep. sometimes you might find me lying awake at night hating her, imagining what i'll do the next time i see her. popping her head between my knee and the pavement. like a grape or some other soft squishy fruit. the sound it makes is exquisite.

this flickr image search tool is actually surprisingly useful.

03.01.06: some photos from over christmas, martin doing his best alec empire impression:

and corey not.

i actually did some stuff today, starting with assembling my computer. me and emil went down to the local recycling depot and nabbed a monitor, it worked just peachey. and his old computer is now running pretty peachey too, after ages of hard drive fiddling. all it needs now is hooking up to the internet and we are literally in business.

in the evening, just now, some relatives popped over for tea and cake (sounds kinda british huh?). i know this is obvious (and also unrelated because it's not what we had) but danish pastries are amazing here. even the ones from netto. anyway, i was a bit nervous about this, the seven of us sitting around a table talking danish. it was like watching a foreign film with no subtitles. but with very good actors. it was fun though. not just because of the cake. and i got to talk about nomads in tanzania and kenya.

can you hear that? it's my bed calling.

02.01.06: who would have thought that netto is actually not that bad? there is one just across the main road from our house and it's ok. i may be thinking this because it's full of almost endless exciting new products, nearly all of which i can buy because i don't yet know better. well good.

today julie gave me a simple errand to run. i had to go to the post office that's just down the road and pay part of her tuition fees. i can't believe i managed to mess it up so fantastically. on the way in there is a ticket dispenser with two buttons. i read both of them and either could be what i need. i decide to copy what the guy infront of my did and i get my number. the place is crowded and i'm waiting ages. long enough to spot the pattern of the numbers being called out and to notice that i've taken the wrong ticket before my number is called. i end up jumping the queue and woman doesn't look too impressed i had the wrong one. no worries, i explain to her i want to pay a certain amount of this bill and she scans it. it turns out she can't accept my card, and she's done the bill already, so i quickly run down to the bank to get cash. only the machine tells me my request has been declined. the only thing i can see to do is go back to the flat, back to bed, never set foot in the post office again and tell julie i was mugged or something. instead i try my card again and request less money (but just enough to cover what i was supposed to be paying). back in the post office i take the correct ticket and wait another ten or more minutes, only to be called up to the wrong woman. i try and explain but it's almost not worth it, anyway the right woman intervenes. i go back to her desk and she asks me for the full amount. i try and tell her that some has already been paid and i only want to pay half, and she gets even more annoyed and tells me that i have to say because it doesn't mention it on the bill and shows me the amount like i can't read (which is almost fair). she goes through a complicated process of sticking things back together with weird tape and stamping stuff while i bite my tongue and don't mention that i told her how much i wanted to pay when i first spoke to her. she just hadn't listened (she was too busy rolling her eyes at me cos i'm english and stupid). in the end it was all fixed and i shuffled away having made a few peoples (if in doubt leave it out) days more miserable. mainly mine.

actually, that story would have been easier to tell if i'd just listed everything that went wrong. nevermind.

i went for a walk around town but was too scared to talk to anyone or go in any shops (accept the comicbook shop, pictures and panels are a universal language). this cash machine cheered me up immensely:

english is the language of the anti-capitalist art-terrorist? and no it wasn't me, although i have a pretty good idea who it was.

i might go retreat into a book.

01.01.06: you every tried writing html using a norwegian keyboard? it just took me five seconds to find the question mark, i still haven't found the angle braket. do norwegians not use html? oh wait, they're where the pipe should be. y'know, that key by the left shift that you never use. i'm presuming you don't use it because i can't remember what the other symbol on it is. either way, writing html is a right pain in the ass.

what i should be doing is wishing you happy new year, but whatever. i've spent all of today reading and sleeping. it's been awesome.

anyway, my plane landed at 9:30pm two days ago. i took me an agonising half an hour to collect my luggage (they were clearly punishing me for having so much) and i finally found julie. i realised what it is about airports that i find so odd. it's my ears. the pressure change of landing does horrible scientific things to them and i'm left halfway deaf. when i'm waiting in line at passport control (worrying what i'm supposed to say if they ask me what i'm doing here) it is deafly/deathly (i don't know which it's supposed to be) quiet. the people around me talk in muffled words. there is no background humm. it's just eerie and it makes me feel uncomfortable. my ears still haven't fixed by the time we arrive at our house.

i should describe our apartment, and the area we live in, but i think it can wait. be satisfied that i say it's nice and i've promised photos of it at some point (when i work out how - getting my harddrive working was hard enough for one day).

we had a 'welcome' dinner (which was strange because i still couldn't hear) and drank some wine. i guess at some point we went to bed.

the next morning the ground was still covered in snow. the pavements, cycle paths and roads are all cleared, leaving foot high dividers between them. it doesn't quite make sense how there is so much snow, but nevermind. julie had woken up early and gone to work. the initial plan was for me and emil to buy food for our new years dinner and then go and meet julie. what actually happened was we all woke up late. emil went off to find food and i had to find my way to the bookstore. i mean, it's not hard, i had a map and everything. it's just that none of the roads seemed to match up with the map and deep down i knew i was going the wrong way. plus i was running late. i could have sort it out but instead i bumped into emil and he pointed me back the way i came from. it was quite embaressing being spotted going in completely the wrong direction.

i found the store just fine though. once inside i had champagne for breakfast (which i knew was a bad idea) with julie's work people. we then went in search of a hard to find dinner. most places were shut but we settled for this place that did a reasonable buffet. crucial tip for vegetarian travellers in denmark number one - don't eat the onion rings. they're actually squid, of all the horrible things they could be. squid rings. yuch. after food we drank some gløgg in another cosy little place and walked home.

emil had bought a selection of vegetables and some bbq nuggets. we made a salad, some onion pasta with pesto and that was our new years dinner. unconventional but tasty enough. we drank more wine, some absinthe and so i decided against taking the bottle of champagne to the party. we grabbed a few beers instead and caught the bus.

the party was a bit weird. for me at least. everyone was dressed up and there was a male/female divide, the girls sitting in the kitchen area around the table and the guys sitting in the lounge area on the sofa. in the sea of danish words i felt awkward and out of place. it didn't bother me though, it's just something i'm going to have to get used to. i spent a while talking to one girl who said it'd take me well over six months to learn danish from scratch and that it's extremely hard. that boosted my confidence, sure. it was kind of funny though, she had the strongest irish accent when she spoke english, but it completely disappeared when she turned back to danish.

i think what i mean is, it didn't at all feel like it was my new years. and sort of it wasn't, denmark being an hour ahead of england, but that's a mute point. having just moved my life to a country i know nothing about is new years enough, without it actually being new years as well.

we left early (well, it must have been 2am or something) and rode a strange bus into the centre of town, from where we walked back to our house past the tivoli theme park (a random detail i don't really need to record considering how much i haven't. anyway.

30.12.05 well this is a bit exciting isn't it? but unfortunately it's gone 7pm and i havn't even begun to finish packing. i really shouldn't be worrying about the length of time i've been ignoring my website.

it's not like i've been doing much. it's christmas after all. i've been eating too much and getting drunk every night. martin, ben and corey have been over every evening in various combinations. we've also seen sian and rachel. i've lost count of the bottles of wine and repeatedly lost at 'buzz'. the funnest music quiz on the ps2. last night we even braved the town and had a few drinks (or more) in the merchant. no matter how hard anyone tried the conversation always descended to filth.

i'd spent the day in london hanging out with aimee. i know it's a long way for us to go but i wanted to visit tate modern before i left. i didn't want to miss rachel whiteread's addition to the unilever series. it's better than last one (which you might have missed even if you were there) but it didn't really move me. i liked though, at least until i noticed that the boxes are glued together. that ruined the excitement that they might topple at any moment. it was just too safe, and quite clinical. tate have also made massive changes to their regular galleries. the rothko room has moved and they've greatly increased the size of surrealist gallery. it's totally awesome. so it was actually a really good time to go.

i wonder what aimee will do with her mountain?

anyway, it's been really great being at home, but i really should go and finish my packing.

24.12.05 so, just for the sake of documentation..

after work on thursday we went for a few drinks across the road at the suga qube (or whatever the fuck it's called). me, dan and nils left at a reasonable time and went for a grubbs. i had my first double and last ever grubbs burger, the classic original with extra cheese. it was monsterous and i'm not sure how you could ever even think of eating a triple. you crazy crazy bastards you.

back at the house tommy was packing and i began the final big push to get the house into a reasonable state. i'd stolen a paint brush from work and painted the wall in the back room. the stupid bitch forgot to write "idst", so she's fucked now. hopefully poor giuliano will suffer some horrible accident. around ten o'clock tom popped around with his iron and we tried in vain to remove the wax from her carpet. the other task was to empty the kitchen cupboards and fridge. i felt bad binning all that jam and skipped food. i got to bed gone 1am, only to be up six hours later to finish the job, where a final inspection of simona's room uncovered a number of pieces of chewing gum stuck to the wall around where her bed had been. i mentally desecrate her body as i paint the wall again.

the funniest thing though, as i'm doing my final walk along the north laines, lumbered with my backpack and fighting through the christmas crowd, she walks right past me. you went back to italy did you? you shitty little coward. i only realised it was her too late, and with my heavy backpack and bustling crowd there was no way i could go after as she made a runner. the price of having her boyfriend kick the shit out of me would still make breaking her face worth it.

oh, and a merry xmas. whatever.

23.12.05 well, that's it then. goodbye brighton. it's been a varied but awesome three years and it's emotional to see it go. we've had some good times haven't we? even some of the best. infact i think it's good i've left, else i might never have. besides, i've been told so many times that i'm coming back i almost believe it completely.

i've said too many goodbyes. i nearly got used to it. there's all the things you wanted to say to people, something a bit meaningful, something from the heart, but when it comes down to it just nothing comes out. the words are simple and they don't mean much, but there's an emotional trigger that'll only let out a forced smile and a "yeah man". so please accept my apologies for the rubbish goodbyes. i promise the hellos wil be much better.

it's strange though, looking around and you wonder who of all these people you'll never see again. and what can you say to that? i just hope that i'm not throwing away these friendships. but i'm thinking that i've learnt this lesson before. and i'm thinking that this time they're too valuable.

not to be mushy or anything.

y'know, i've definately changed a lot in the last three years. the classic death, obsession and love combo, which in hindsight almost nearly makes sense. and i've learnt/gained a hell of a lot from spannerworks (especially a rather good seo cv, when i manage to update it). it's going to be a hard place to replace. hopefully i wont have to.

i think that in the end what i really want to say is something profound, but it's not really going to happen.

and i still feel like i'll be back there next week.

22.12.05 brighton celebrates the winter solstice by burning clocks. they parade through the streets and down onto the beach where the burning begins. we watched from a safe but boring distance as the parade went by, are those really clocks? it may have been good at some point but we couldn't be bothered to stick around, and i needed the toilet, so were finishing our first drink in the sidewinder before the fireworks had even begun.

we left soon after and wandered through the south lanes to the font (and not ferkin) to see rachel for a key. it was good to see her and robin again one last time before i leave. it'd be nice to see everyone really, but it's not going to happen. i'll just take the farewells as they come.

it's not a photo of the donatello's pizza empire, it's the south lanes.

i'm getting a bit sick of the (what is quite frankly terrible) news coverage of seo. here's the guardian talking about the google dance, of all things. it's factually incorrect and the research is over two years old. you can see my harsh comments on bobbie johnson's blog or here (if my comments are accepted). how does this trash make it into the guardian?

another interesting article i read - teen pleads guilty after blog confession. i managed to find his blog and you can read it here. it's actually a really interesting read, but with some particular shitty comments. perhaps being 'blaked' is the new 'dooced'?

21.12.05 it's a shame my name is spelt wrong, but that doesn't make it any less poigniant:

thank you sam ;]

21.12.05 there's nothing worse than being woken up by the postman, rushing downstairs in your towel to find he's delivering a huge package, only to have your excitement crushed by him telling you it's actually for your absent neighbour. this is your neighbour who you know is in but just can't be bothered to get out of bed. there should be rules about this kind of thing. the only thing i recieved in the post this morning was a note saying my letter can't be delivered to me because there's a £1.21 fee to pay.

yesterday i busy. you could tell this from my silence. also, it's hard to shout and scream when your life is in boxes:

but of course it's the opposite that's actually true.

i had dinner over at jon and cally's on monday, which was nice. it was the first time i've watched tv in a long time and it was nice to see copenhagen twice. all those dying turkeys were not cool though. also cally cheats at guess who. then last night i had dinner with steph, which was also nice. he's clearly losing one of his best customers, after all.

all this talk of goodbye dinners is sure making me hungry.

and i'm feeling quite augmented.

happy winter solstice, by the way. and about time too. i can almost feel the summer approaching already.

19.12.05 all i have now is a dirty matress and a sleeping bag. there's a few books in the corner of my room and a chair to put my clothes on, although the real reason it's there is to make the room feel less empty. it doesn't work.

what this means is we had a successful weekend and everything i own is back in rugby. safely. and i borrowed the vacuum cleaner from dave's comics and the house is finally gutted. it's amazing how useful a dave's comics is. i don't think i'm ever quite going to be able to replace it.

we ate at all of my favourite places one last time - breakfast at the inside out, drinks at the end of the laines and dinner at terre a terre, with what i think is probably their best menu yet. they also have the most charismastic waiters. three puddings.

i spent all saturday trying to work out where the vague feeling of excitement was coming from, there was something i was looking forward to but couldn't quite figure it. i finally realised it was my new glasses. it's a big deal but no big deal, both at the same time. confusing huh? if i was egomanic, vain or a camwhore i'd have photos up by now, but i don't. maybe sometime later.

then i read 'animal man - deus ex machina' and it fucked with my head, hence the last post.


18.12.05 i havn't really slept since wednesday. not really. when insomnia strikes it bites you like a rabid dog. i'm lying awake at half four in the morning, just before my phone rings, and i'm thinking up all kinds of possible explanations for it. when it's three in the morning and your still reading grant morrison you'll believe anything your brain tells you, no matter how ridiculous it sounds.

like when it convinces you that your room is an extension of yourself and by taking it apart you're actually tinkering with what it means to be you. in the same way that you'd take photos of your life to keep your memories clear and vivid, or in the same way that you might backup your files onto a cd for safety, you put a part of who you are into your surroundings. your room, your diary, a painting, everything you have ever owned. these are your physical manisfestations, and when you take them apart or lose them you need to redeem and retain that part of you. when it's your whole lifestyle, when it's your room, your job and your friends, it is a terrible amount to fit back into your head. no wonder my mind is constantly 'cutting and pasting', going backwards and forwards, and i can't sleep no matter how tired i am or how much i've had to drink.

another theory went like this. when your physical manisfestations disappear, when your self loses it binds with the physical world it causes your non-physical self to also lose its bind with the real world. as i take my room apart piece by piece, postcard by postcard, i'm losing my rooting and my perception of reality becomes a little softer. this is maybe why it's 5am, i havn't slept yet and there's someone standing outside of my first floor window. it's why at 2am i have no idea where i am or why everything is so fucking orange. it's why all through the night i'm seeing everything in ascii.

it's where the love part of my love/hate relationship with grant morrison ends and the hate part begins.

and why did you phone me at 4:30am anyway?

and will you still love me now that i wear glasses?

16.12.05 all my books are being put back where they came from, they're all safely packed in 'diamond comics' boxes that i stole from dave's comics. i figured it made some kind of sense.

so do you think three years is a good length of time to stay somewhere? i was three years at birmingham and three years in brighton. i figure both times i'm leaving before i feel i really want to. i used to love birmingham and i hated to leave, but i'm so grateful that i did. i'm not hating leaving brighton, but i'm far from feeling like my time here is up.

i'm making a mess of what i wanted to say, which i'm not sure about anyway.

in three years you've just got your roots planted. you've just got your life set up. it's either the perfect time to leave or the worst. i'm comfortable with it though and i'm happy for it to become a trend.

i do love having all my stuff and my room and my job and blah blah fucking blah, but let's not get too settled right? it is the weekend.

15.12.05 when i woke up this morning it was inside a room i didn't even recognise. it scared me for a second, and then it just made me sad. i'd been dreaming of dolphins made of ice. they were so beautiful. and probably the most endangered species i could conjure up.

i wasn't sleeping, so at 1am i started pulling the drawing pins from the walls. by 2am my walls were completely bare (the only clean ones in the house). now i don't even have myself for company.

last night we saw that stupid narnia film. i wouldn't say it was terrible. i enjoyed the white witch but the implied peadophilia kind of creeped me out. you can't go about endorsing that kind of thing. it's just not cool mr.tumnus. shudder. and the umpa lumpa just made me laugh.

anyway, i have too much to do.

14.12.05 today is my websites $1000 birthday. say cheese.

so i've not really been doing much. i stay late at work and then tidy, clean and pack when i finally get home. sometimes i cook or shit. last night i began to take everything off my walls. you know you're moving out when then photos and pictures come down. half of my room is bare, it doesn't even look like my room anymore. i suppose this is a good thing. everything needs to be packed and ready to go by sunday. then i have a week to deal with what's left of the rest of the house, which is a bigger job than anyone seems to think. i'll also be sleeping on a dirty matress with my trusty sleeping bag. i'll keep a few books back and maybe my hard drive. we will be okay.

and btw, the sudoku from yesterday still hasn't been solved by anyone. anyone human at least.

13.12.05 so here are my photos from the edo protest on saturday:

and here's the sudoku that defeated me:

please, no answers on a postcard.

and while i'm giving you stuff to look at, i'd urge you to check out alive in joburg.

12.12.05 you would have noticed that i had a very angry week of last. and although it's not entirely within my own control, i will be making efforts to make sure the same doesn't happen again. but anger is a great motivator, and i do have much to do, so maybe what i need is anger management. but then, management? pfft.

on friday me and tim took a trip up to leeds. it was one of those awake at 5:30am days but i really enjoyed. i spent the eight hours of train journey with the perfect mix of sleep and reading. i finished two books ('the sun also rises', and 'doctrines and visions') and started two books ('imperial ambitions' and nil: a land beyond belief, which is the best thing i've started to read in ages). i'm going to miss these little outings.

when i finally got home someone had placed out recycling box on our doorstep, but like i promised it's not going to get me angry. instead i calmly redistributed our garbage around the neighbourhood in a pattern to spell out "fuck you". shabitat was the fullstop.

on saturday morning we rushed into town to buy secret santa presents and watch the smash edo protest. we didn't rush that much, i thought it'd be proper to first say a final farewell to dave's diner. the protest was good though, we followed it for about an hour during which the police were much nicer than before. of course i don't know the details but it seemed much better organised and there was no antagonism from police or protestors. i'll have photos up at some point. some point where i'm not stupidly busy.

the rest of the weekend played victim to the spannerworks christmas party. we drove up to lewes at about four, maybe five o'clock, and checked in at the rather nice hotel. we started drinking at a local pub soon after. three gin and tonics please, followed by a tequila with nils. back at the hotel we had a round of champagne (of course) and i took a weird lemon cocktail. i should be able to say what that was, but i can't. dinner was at seven, or was it eight? it was all brilliant and with much wine (and water pistols). after food the secret santa presents were distributed, our sales team gave a £5 note and a five lottery ticket, typical huh? then there was djing and dancing. we got player, aphex twin and hitler2000. it's true. and at some point i finally got to sleep.

the sound of alex choking in the bathroom woke me up twenty minutes before the end of breakfast, which i made. at some point i got the train (no way was anyone driving me home after that night), which seemed the romantic thing to do. i felt like tintin. or something ridiculous. i bought some food and watched a film, the first film i've cried at for as long as i can remember. i did some diy on the house and packed some more boxes. i have many. i had an early night and managed to avoid stories of burning oil depots.

welcome to your future.

08.12.05 and to the person who stuck the letter to my door this morning, you can burn in hell you petty. little. shit.

where is your god damn face?

soon i will be free of you and your inane self-righteousness. why don't you pop around for a cup of tea and some jam to celebrate the occasion? why don't you bring the council with you? your presence will never darken my doorstep ever again.

get a fucking life. etc.

on a more positive note, you can take your letters of complaint and slit your fucking wrists with them.

07.12.05 there are a few things that you don't do if you live in my house. this is for future reference, because unfortunately i can't go back in time and tattoo them on your mother fucking face.

if i ever see her again i'm going to break her brittle fucking neck.

i wouldn't mind so much if i wasn't the only person trying to sort this all out. i moaned last week about the amount of rubbish i threw out, and i'm doing it again now. nine bin bags sat outside our house last night. again, it's all junk that other people have left for me to deal with. my fingers are raw from trying to pull nails from the wall and i'm stained from a hundred cleaning products (saved from a skip and now poured down the toilet). half of the furniture we pulled from the streets has been tossed back where it was found. is that such a fucking crime?

italics have been used to convey my seething anger. i am zen buddah cow of a raging bull stomping tiny italian girls into their grave.

06.12.05 two days ago i cracked and left a note on simona's door. it read:

hey, can you please not hoard kitchen stuff in your room. as you've probably noticed we don't have much. for the same reason can you please wash stuff as soon as you've used it and also not use metal cutlery in the pans cos it fucks them up. can you not leave food in the sink either cos it blocks it up and no one can do washing, cheers

it was concise and polite. i didn't bother signing it, she probably couldn't read it anyway.

i get home late last night to find two bin bags outside of our house (oh just go and report us, i fucking dare you) and her electric heater sitting by our front door. just inside i find the following note:

sorry i had some problem and i go back in italy. sorry if i dident tell you but i dident know. good luck and thank you for everythink!!! simona

she'd rather jump ship than do her chores. the story behind this mysterious and quite strange girl we'll never know. but what is important is we're now going to be £150 down on our rent. this is presuming our other awol housemate actually pays their share (which our simona had covering, and we'd presumed she would be until christmas).

so, the question is - what's the fair thing to do? and what's realistic?

this coordinated mass graffiti hit, is amazing.

also essential reading is this guide to tarmac/asphalt graffiti. inspired.

05.12.05 here is my new door to be:

how cool is that?

i've begun my packing and it's far more complicated than anyone (especially my parents) seem to understand. i've filled all of my boxes and at least 5/6 of my books still remain on their shelves, along with all of my records and videos. in the future this will be much easier. not because we'll have fantastic technology but because we wont have so much shit. once we've burnt the world it'll be a beautiful place.

which reminds me, we were walking through town on saturday happily chewing on our roast chestnuts when a smiling police woman waved us onto the otherside of the road. it was like we were stupid or something. the traffic had all been stopped so we walked down the middle of the road past the growing queue of buses. i almost missed the fact the bus next to us was a smouldering wreck from the shoulders upwards. all of the upstairs windows were smashed open and smoke was pouring out (added to my memory afterwards for dramatic effect). my first thought was how this would have been much more exciting in london, where you get actual terrorist attacks. it smelt gorgeous though, while "christmas shoppers fled for their lives".

chew your charcoal teeth.

03.12.05 when i woke up this morning it was inside chapter 12 of 'fear and loathing in las vegas'. my room was six inches deep with clothes, books and holiday packing detritus, mixed with plastic bags.

the chapter's third paragraph suitably described the rest of the house. an early morning post-breakfast fury produced another three full bin bags of waste and a wet kitchen smelling slightly of toilet cleaner.

ironically, or suitable enough, this morning we'd recieved a warning from the council about leaving rubbish in front of our house not on bin day. some jumped up neighbourhood watch crone had reported us. perhaps if they'd attend to the ugly graffiti at end of the street or the problem with parking i'd give a shit. or if we'd actually commited the alleged and heinous crime.

the funniest thing was that they'd sent us the same letter four times. some fucking environmental act that is.

we promptly redistributed the traffic cones along the street. to hell with the english dream.

02.12.05 it's not that i havn't been writing, i have. just not here. but what i havn't been doing is much. if that sentence at all makes sense, which i suspect it probably doesn't. you see, this is why i didn't update.

this morning i had to get up a six. this was to plough across the country for a stupid client meeting. it was fifteen strong. it wasn't so bad. but now i'm exhausted. possibly because we went out last night to celebrate news of a new incoming baby. so congratulations to nils and abi and all that. no wonder he's been going on about needing to quit smoking.

i played some real bad backgammon last night. beer will do that to you.

anyone fancy shooting some hoops this weekend?

it's decemeber, btw.

30.11.05 me and tommy are sitting around after three vicious games of backgammon and a stupidly strong cup of ovaltine (you idiot tom). our spaniard housemates arrive home and come down to start cooking. a minor miracle is about to happen, see if you can spot it. the dude known as 'the boyfriend' pops his head through the service hatch and tells us they're making pasta, and asks if we want some? it's fish though, so i politely explain that we're vegetarian and that's why we told them not to put meat in our fridge. i also explain that fish are animals. not a minute later his head pops back into the living room and offers us beers. what is going on? what terrible thing have they done that they're trying to make up for? i don't trust his beer but tommy takes one. it's funny because it tastes quite malty. on further inspection we notice that all of the alcohol has been removed and it's 100% non-alcoholic. er, guys?

they kept me up all night talking loudly. they also left the kitchen window wide fucking open. i noticed this at three in the morning. my rage is an ice cold dirty knife left by the cooker that stabs you through your heart while you sleep.

i've developed a few theories about the spanish. my first was that they're a little deaf. i quickly realised this was dumb and exchanged it for the more plausible theory that they have thick walls in spain. unfortunately that doesn't explain why they talk so loud to each other while in the same room, especially at 3am. my most recent theory is easiest to explain by use of a yin-ying, infact i call it the yin-yang siesta theory.

it's quite simple, because they have a siesta in the middle of the day they also have an anti-siesta in the middle of the night. they wake up in the middle of night and have to shout a lot and play loud music. to be honest, this is the only realistic explanation for the phenomena i'm witnessing. and when i say 'phenomena' i actually mean something more like 'torture' or 'pain'.

isn't there some kind of ironic karmic balance when your murder involves the person you disturbed and the knife you neglected to clean?

29.11.05 on the way back from norway i read my first bookcrossing book. it wasn't me who found it though, it was passed onto me (from emil, via julie), but it was still pretty exciting. it originated in luxembourg and had travelled between denmark and norway for a while. unfortunately it was dan brown's digital fortress. i'd never normally give dan brown the time of day, but since this it was bookcrossing i succumbed to his fast-paced addictive charm. the rumours are true though, how can 29 million literary fans be wrong? his lowest-common-denominator writing style is so dull it almost hurts. what you are mistaking for excitement is actually a stream of shallow and cliched adjectives. what you think might be characterisation is actually a pool of bad stereotypes. his women are startlingly beautiful and fiercly intelligent (and the men just can't understand this apparent duality). it's sickening. the story's premise is interesting but it's ultimately a justification for the patriot act and complete american control of the world's information exchange, for the greater good of course. you have to pay in freedom for your security these days, and privacy is clearly for sissies. the plot twists are obvious and there's more chapters than actual pages (not strictly true). is your attention span that short? i guess i better stop writing.

and then last night we saw smoosh. this was an amazing feat as my plane didn't leave oslo until half five. i'm one hardcore jetset mother fucker. they played cargo in london, a nice venue if i've ever seen one. it had proper air conditioning and the cloakroom only charged me £1 for my enormous backpack. it's kind of strange how smoosh can play an 18s only venue, but we hadn't been in there ten minutes when two teenie blonde girls walked right past me - omfg it's smoosh! i've been excited about this band since june and i can't believe they actually made it onto british soil. it was just too cool. smoosh rock. they played all my favourite songs (thanks to a second unplanned encore) and the rather confusing crowd loved them. i especially liked asya's festive sweater.

i had coffee for breakfast this morning. perhaps a mistake. but while the music is pumping and the room is spinning and it's still not 10:30am i'm having an awesome time.

24.11.05 so we saw harry potter, and yes it was awesome. the films are finally catching up with the books and getting into the meat of the story. it starts on a huge scale with the quidditch world cup and quickly descends into a genuinely terrifying chaos. harry is as annoying as ever, as are hermione's expressionist eyebrows, but i reckon ron is shaping up to me a decent actor. he's by far the best of the lot of them. and he's funny too. i even feel a renewed enthusiasm for jk rowling, i've been living in her world all day. and i want to place a bet on harry potter dying in the final book. if i only i knew how to go about it.

anyway, i'm off to norway tomorrow morning and sorry for not telling you. i'll be back on tuesday.

23.11.05 i'm slowly getting more and more pissed at the amount of shit i have to sort out. it's almost becoming too much. a lot of it's to be expected and i'm just being slack. booking flights, updating my cv, talking to the embassy and sorting out the estate agent are all good examples (and just a few off the top of my head). other things are more irritating, such as dealing with all the shit people have left in our house (and the things they didn't, like my toolkit) and chasing up the money i'm still owed.

i also had to call ntl again and they're being mother fuckers again. i'm never getting into a contract with anyone about anything ever again ever. how many customer services monkeys does it take to take the piss?

anyway, my budapest rambles are now all live. my budapest journal and my photos from budapest (if you don't want the words) are both hidden behind their respective links. here are some of my favourites:

21.11.05 come next year this is where i'm going to be living:

funnily enough it's exactly 1000km (999.918km) from my current house, or 621 miles if you're still on imperial. i love google map tools.

i may have missed the figs, but there's no way i'm missing sharon fruit season. i have two juicy specimens sitting right here on my desk and they are fucked.

here is a photo grilly took of me busting shit:

i hate camera phones.

also, there is a guy who busks below my office window. i wouldn't care except he's playing a bongo. or big drum, whatever you want to call it. he does this all day and it drives me fucking mad. i wish he'd just shut up. infact, i'll pay someone to make him go away (terminally or otherwise).

20.11.05 when was the last time i ever posted on a sunday? think about that, it's been a very long time.

friday was a fun one. it was daryl's last day at spannerworks and little work got done after lunchtime. we went to indian summer ("the only brighton indian restaurant?", clearly not even close). the service was slow but the food was good, although definately no more enjoyable than what you'd get in planet india for half the price (and with a smile). come six o'clock we were all in santa fe taking as much advantage of the 2 for 1 cocktails as possible. their toasted russian was so good (with it looking like a creme caramel who could resist?), i think i had three or four of them alone. around nine everything was getting unorganised and the group was breaking up into various different pubs and eateries. we got some crap chips and made our way to the union, what used to be the zap, and met up with everyone else. the music started off good and it was great to dance after so long. but why do we only have so much fun on sad events?

it was also the first time i'd taken my camera on a proper night out. it was defiantely fun, although i was getting all too weary about pissing people off. the thing i've noticed about photography is that it entertains me when i'm bored, it wakes me up when i'm tired, and it heals me when i'm sick. i think aslong as i've got my camera with me i will always be happy.

the pictures are mostly an exercise at manually focusing in the dark while drunk. there was a few that i absolutely loved but promised wouldn't be appearing on my site. but please don't moan at me if you don't like the photo of you, it's actually a very nice one and you're most likely just being coy.

18.11.05 my notice is currently sitting on my line manager's desk. i think we can count that as officially handed in. is this exciting or what?

perhaps i'm about to be escorted out of the building?

18.11.05 this morning there's frost on the inside of my window. you can see tiny shards of rainbow as the sun cuts through the ice crystals. on the street you can smell the mouldy oranges of car deicer and the level is ablaze with golden leaves dancing in the sharp morning light.

winter has come upon us.

this doesn't mean you can buy a fan heater and leave it on all night though, especially if you don't contribute to the electricity bill.

last night i spent an emotional hour looking through my old and tiny digital photos, some of which have now been restored on my old site. it's when you look at a photo and for a few seconds you don't even recognise the person staring back at you. it's when you realise that it's been almost three years now since you last saw them. it's just weird how quickly someone can become not even a stranger. how could you not recognise one of your best friends?

the comical side of nazi propaganda - patriot art. the comic is particularly bad. sadly enough i found that link on the right march site, who now have their own "truth disguised as music" in the form of the right brothers. you can't make this shit up. i don't know whether to laugh or cry.

17.11.05 by the time i get home grilly will have gone. for some reason this doesn't feel like such a big deal. he's been gone before, and i'm going soon myself. him leaving now doesn't seem to make that much difference. i'm already resided to the fact i'm moving far away. i've already dealt with it. i'm also totally psyched and the wait is just pissing me off.

it will be weird though. i just hope it isn't too weird.

we had his leaving party on tuesday. it was a low-key affair, so much so that at one point there was only me, grilly and tommy. rachel and astra filled the early evening with olives and baklava, but they both had to leave before anyone else arrived. the party picked up again at half ten with the arrival of too many people for me to mention. it was great and made the whole thing far less embaressing. grilly dj'ed well and i went to bed early.

then last night we had all the good intentions to go to departure lounge but we didn't quite make it. we had to drop off some cds for jess and ended up sitting in their living room all night eating hobnobs and playing stupid but hilarious games with robin, kate and anna. those girls are a riot, leaving for the pub would have just been criminal.

also, remember me ranting about ntl? well the fuckers sent me another bill for our broadband this morning, despite promising me it had been cut off. also a ridiculous amount just went out of my account to them, exactly what the fuck was that for? the customer service guy was nice though and told me he'd cancel the new payment and send checks off for the previous two (landline and broadband) within seven working days. sheesh.

16.11.05 it's time to throw my website a big party, it has finally come of age! yesterday we reached the dizzy heights of 1000 first time visitors (plus 81 returning visitors), a days worth of traffic that generated enough funds to cover my days rent. rewind to when we were starting out, back then we were nothing more than a string of bits in an ocean of binarys. my site was a few lone html tags crawling on its hands and knees along the information superhighway (that's what we called it back in the day), but now look how far its come. emoware, this is your life..

you were conceived nearly a decade ago under the name of emos sombre playground (without the apostrophe), although the wayback machine only detected your existance on march 30th, 1997. your html was basic and your content was dark, a brooding collection of photos and bad poetry. then for the millenium you were updated with personal lies, bad navigation and a fresh coat of paint. you were blinding white, but it wasn't to last.

in 2001 you became untitled. laurence discovered a new favourite colour (#707590) and the worst navigation yet, everything was simplified and noisy. this change was the result of a young woman by the name of "hannah jameson", the power and brains behind what was to finally become emoware. she was also behind the secret beginnings of the blog (on june 7th, 2001), which didn't officially start until august 31st of the same year. hannah told you it was "as meaningless as jesus". after leaving for pastures new she unfortunately can't be with us tonight.

the world was rapidly changing though and you had to adapt to this new world climate, you incorporated and the mighty emo corp was born. all of your branches were amalgamated under the same roof - one site, one vision. your campaign slogan was "one day you will fall, so come join me, on your own you are nothing". the good times would only last so long and the bubble soon burst. but what would it be that rose out of the ashes?

on the June 6th, 2003, you were reinvented as "emo.ware" - a fully realised personal website coded in asp, utilising css and boasting a proper navigational structure. you were streamlined and focus was shifted onto your blog. blogs were becoming one of the fastest growing internet crazes and you'd been there from the very beginning. the best was yet to come though, and on january 11th this year you finally got your own domain. shiny, new and ready for war you rolled out onto the internet plains only to be greeted by a very different and much colder landscape. what was once a lush and thriving ecosystem was now inhabited entirely by cookie cutter journals and soulless affiliate schemes. you retaliated with venom, style and panache.

using the dark powers of your master's profession you were transformed and monetised. a capitalist duality emerged within, but not once were you ever comprised. you've kept your integrity while the search marketing machine inside of you rages on. it gains strength every day, threatening to envelop you, but it will never happen. not while hannah still stalks in the shadows.

15.11.05 this morning has been awful. i'd like to blame it on simona for waking me up at 4am with her radio again, but i doubt i can blame anyone but myself. not really.

if only i was able to tell that i was in a horrificly bad mood before actually talking to anyone. i could have just stayed in bed or shot myself in the head, rather than the foot.

not to wallow in self pity or anything. it's disgusting isn't it?

so here's three videos to cheer you up, or otherwise. the mates of state video for goods (all in your head) is beautiful. like i didn't love the band already. then there's the more aggresive coldcut video (i forget the song title, infact i watched it with the sound off). everyone digs a bit of riot police and cctv imagery, lovely. then there's fallen art, although you'll have to find the full version yourself because i didn't note down where i found it, sorry. it really is worth finding though. it has nested animation and that's incentive enough. i never realised dead people could dance so well. the thriller video doesn't count.

oh yeah, we kind of have a 'grilly leaving party' tonight at our house. it's probably too late to tell you but changes are you've either been invited already or wont come. so, yeah.

maybe a baked potato with cheese and beans will settle my insidious insides.

14.11.05 i can clearly remember me thinking to myself "this is a good weekend" several times over the last two days. i guess it's because it was.

on friday we took it straight down the pub. i like the victory, it's nice and not too busy. it's also dark green. it seemed really late by the time we left but actually i think it was relatively early, partying straight from work always turns out like this. the second hang out of the evening was mad brighton's open mic poetry night. it's all about location. i don't even know what that place is called but apparently it's underneath the brighton fringe and on the road behind kensington gardens. they've just pulled everything out and off the walls. it's concrete and rough plaster, the perfect setting for a trendy break dancing video. i do love bunkers. we left at half time to find me some much needed sustenance. this is how you get so drunk on three pints. the dumb waiter seems as good as place as any to get a posh haloumi burger. it's a nice hang out and stays open until ten. they don't take cards though, so you're allowed to get that unneccessary slice of chocolate cake because you're going to have to run up to the station to pay the bill. no matter.

the first thing i want to do on saturday is get breakfast. we return to the dumb waiter only to find the same woman working, it's kind of embarrassing but the breakfast is worth it. we eat bubble and squeak under a kiwi tree. fried bread, b&s and hash brown is too much fried carbohydrate for anyone, but i'll survive. i washed it down with halva.

a good shopping trip ensued, just like the good old days but without the tiredness. i bought japanese crap and crap comics. we also managed to spend a painful amount of time in hmv while grilly tried to work out which cd to buy with the money that hmv owed him. the trick here is to just not buy anything you don't want from hmv, but lets not get into that. i forgot to buy the cd i was intending to get and rainchecked buying my new controversial shoes (until earlier today - new shoooooooze).

in the evening we got in curry (yes, feeding myself has been expensive) and then headed over to daryl and natalie's leaving party, drinking espresso stout on the way. hurray they're going etc. the arthouse gallery is another very nice bar, the difference being the art is actually good. bad toilets though and the soap dispenser dispenses it all over your shirt instead of your hands. like smearing mayonnaise over my shirt the night before wasn't enough. before too long it was five minutes to eleven and we had to dash to the off license. indiana jones would have been proud, we made if just before the barrier slid down to block us from the lovely whiskey.

a chance meeting earlier in the night with a guy we didn't even know informed us of a party at boy robin's new pad. i hadn't even seen him since he moved into his last one (tell a minor lie). it was shaping up to be a top night, with accordian playing and rantings about the end of the world. you're all gonna burn mother fuckers - whether your gay, a deputy or a dog.

tracing a route home we spread truth with style and sellotape. if you woke up on sunday with your number plates masked by "danger global warming" you own an asshole of a car and should reconsider your role in the end of the world. if you were stopped by the police for having an obscured number plate then likewise. you may be pissed off now, but just you wait until you can't even mow your lawn.

sunday morning was when we really needed the previous days breakfast. by 2pm we'd managed to get to the shop and buy enough bread and cheese for toasties. the best thing ever and the most startling sequence of backgammon moves. tommy rolled three consecutive doubles to get his checkers back in play, and on each of my previous gos i'd blocked that point off.

bone managed to absorb the rest of my day (punctuated by furious mario world) as i finally finished the 1377 page epic. wow.

11.11.05 it's really funny how what happened to me on the way to work this morning is exactly the same as what happened to grilly at exactly the same time last week. the cycle path that runs alongside the level is as wide as a road, so unlike the other cycle paths you can go pretty fast down it. there's people around so you don't take the piss, but you get the picture. anyway, this morning there were only two guys anywhere even near the path so it was all clear cycling. unfortunately from a distance i hadn't factored into account they might be a pair of assholes. i realised this all too late as one of them pushed the other right into my path. it wasn't like i was far away and going too fast, i was right fucking on him as he staggers two meters into my path. what the fuck is wrong with people? i hope it hurt. although it was probably me who came out worse, skidding across the road to a tarmac breakfast (that luckily never quite came up). i just wish i'd hit him harder. and was in a car.

yeah, it was really funny how that happened. you fucking idiots. and they call me a rogue cyclist.

oh i'm just angry, ignore me.

last night was great though. it started with a medium house warming party at jon and cally's new funky pad. it's lush and i'm jelous. at least until i left most conversation centered around work and the everyones current disdain. two beers, one glass of wine and a game of kerplunk later it was time to leave and meet rifa. we had invites to a exhibition of work by the guy who does the cover photography for the source (this is a terrible sentence but i don't care). his photos are actually quite good without the writing all over them. it was an interesting night though, mostly a lot of hob-knobbing (yes with a k) but this is brighton after all. the free drinks and sushi were awesome (although yo sushi isn't all that i'm afraid) and i managed to bag a total of 27 free condoms. i couldn't quite believe how many i had in my pockets when i got home. it's not like anybody else was taking them. they nearly made up for the fact that i didn't get my dirty hands on one of the weird pink things, whatever they were (i dunno).

and i've fucked my neck up. if i get run over on the way home it's because i can't look to the right to check for cars.

10.11.05 i thought there was a minor victory yesterday (victory in the sense of a least worst case scenario). but today the front of the papers are telling a completely different story - "mps betray public" (i hate the sun). but whose public is that exactly? is that our public or tony blair's public? and doesn't "it is a matter of how to educate people about the threat without compromising sources" sound like a rather nice way of saying "manufacturing constent"? (bbc news) now i'm going to have nightmares about a giant grinning prick shouting "there's terrifying things coming your way, you and you're family are all going to be terrorized to death" over and over again while slowly approaching me with a huge glistening axe (or perhaps something a bit more symbolic).

and then over in france they reintroduce curfew laws which havn't been used since the algerian war of independence (yes i looked that up).

it reminds me of a rather abstract dream i had the other night. in the dream it suddenly became apparent to me that every murderer (mass murderer, terrorist, extremist, whatever) had been motivated by the exact same knowledge. they were all normal citizens until one day they somehow learnt the horrible truth. they tried to warn people but no one wanted to listen. and as they became more and more frustrated, and their options dwindled, they realised that the truth was more important than a few peoples lives. if it meant they had to start shooting people to get attention then so be it. "look what i'm willing to do. look at the sacrifice i'm willing to make. look at how far i'll take this to make you think how important this must be. i'll shoot my own children if it'll make you listen". but then everytime their message is spun on its head. they're shot down or burnt at the stake. they're turned into the enemy when all they wanted to do was open your eyes.
yes, maybe i've been reading too much chomsky (his new book is very good though). it was a pretty fucked up dream.

anyway, enough of the grim. i'm going to show you something and i don't want you take it lightly. this is the most amazing thing i've seen on the internet for a really long time and you're going to have to invest some time in it. jason (would you believe his full name isn't on his site?) has created some amazing interactive comics, but meanwhile absolutely takes the biscuit. it takes a while to get used to (actually, it takes a while to even understand how you can begin to get used to it) but it's worth the effort. i wasted a good half hour exploring all of the intertwined paths and it's beyond awesome. and not only because it has lot of nested time travel in it. honest.

were not wasting paper [or grammar]
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