tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-96680622011-06-08T07:19:52.665+01:00Never been any good at keeping diaries; always seemed too much like homework to be honest. I do try and keep a friend informed of my occasional misdemeanours though, so this is as good a way as any to chronicle my life and times I guess...{8536}8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.comBlogger591100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1127812728464482802005-09-27T10:18:00.000+01:002005-09-27T10:18:48.516+01:00

I've not been up to much exciting lately.  I could've told you all about my day at the Oval on Sunday watching cricket.  My boss was going to take me and a couple of others, but he rang on Sunday at 12.10 to say that he'd got the time wrong and it started at 12, not 2pm so by the time we got there we'd have missed half of the match.   However, he may be taking us to an "Aussie Rules" football

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1125927414378231772005-09-05T14:36:00.000+01:002005-09-05T14:36:54.440+01:00

Have you seen Closer?  If not I've not got time to tell you what it's about, but it has Natalie Portman in it :o)¬¬ (that's me drawling at the thought of her).  Anyway, in the film there is a park where Portman's and Jude Law's characters go just after they first meet at the start of the film.  This park, I noticed, was in the City of London just(ish) north of the river from where I work.  It's

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1124801904669627192005-08-23T13:58:00.000+01:002005-08-23T13:58:24.690+01:00

Yesterday we got a Red Letter from the TV licencing people.  They wanted to tell us that THEY KNOW we are unlicensed and that they have informed the TV Licence Inspectors of our location and that the TV Licence Inspectors are authorised to use Sophisticated Detecting Equipment and that they may call around at any time during the day or night.  They didn't tell us that when they do call around we

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1124547818190131842005-08-20T14:58:00.000+01:002005-08-20T15:23:38.196+01:00

Getting off the train the other morning I was walking behind a young girl and her young mother. The girl, maybe ten or eleven years old, was wearing a pink Playboy hoodie and a bag sporting the Playboy bunny logo.Yesterday, as I was buying my new notebook in WH Smiths there was a whole shelf dedicated to pink Playboy stationary, pencil cases and folders. Pink enough to ensure that young boys

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1124369814008829422005-08-18T13:56:00.000+01:002005-08-19T21:24:59.046+01:00

I had my first "Fitness Test" at my gym last night and thought I'd share the results. Maybe not as interesting as getting A-level results today but better than nothing...Blood Pressure: 132/76Weight: 61.2 KgHeight: 5' 9"Body Fat: 4.6%Body Mass Index: 20.47Cardio (5 minutes walk at 6.5 KM/Hr, various inclines): 48.1 - "Very Good"Flexibility: 14 cmMean anything to you? It means nothing to me

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1124198285346307182005-08-16T14:18:00.000+01:002005-08-16T14:18:05.350+01:00

Where do diaries go when they die?  My notebook has expired.  It's life of pages fully filled with this and that.  I call it a "notebook" although obviously it is more than that, so many things in fact that I have to go with the lowest common denominator.  It has been my diary, journal, sketch-pad, doodle-book, poem book, puzzle-book and general thought catcher for both my left and right brains.

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1123660652174746852005-08-10T08:57:00.000+01:002005-08-10T08:57:32.286+01:00

It's 08.35 and I'm in the office sat at my computer.  "Why's that?"  you may well ask (actually, knowing you, it's more likely to be "what's so strange about that?").  Is it that I'm so dedicated to my work that I'll be in the office from 8.30am til probably gone 7pm tonight (got some training after work today too)?  That the project's going so badly that I have to come in an hour earlier?  Well

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1123285509811878532005-08-06T00:32:00.000+01:002005-08-06T00:45:09.816+01:00

Thought I'd download Firefox to see what all the fuss was about. Too tired really to play with it now so will have to see tomorrow. Did see that it put nasty horizontal scroll bars on my sidebar div boxes though. Fixed that eye-sore so it almost (but not quite) looks "normal" in said browser. I had been trying to move my bookshelf and jukebox into their own blogs using #includes (as explained

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1121551347858571452005-08-05T22:25:00.000+01:002005-08-05T23:00:23.396+01:00

[I just found this un-published post I'd forgotten about....]Some people organise their CD collection alphabetically, some by genre, others chronologically - either by date published or date purchased. Many people have a roughly FILO (first in, lsat out) structure where by the most recently bought or listned to CD resides at the top of the pile with the less in-vogue albums slowly filtering to

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1123175826777525452005-08-04T18:17:00.000+01:002005-08-04T18:20:01.740+01:00

High visibility Police jackets were everywhere this morning. Always in pairs or more; I counted at least 6 at East Croydon station alone and then when I got into London Bridge I was almost blinded by the masses of florescent bobbies everywhere. The usual morning pep-talk from our train driver was slightly different too. "Un-attended luggage WILL be removed and MAY be destroyed" instead of "May

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1123074289437721582005-08-03T14:04:00.000+01:002005-08-03T14:06:26.150+01:00

Thought I'd try and find the time to write a proper email, though it is a little out of date. Been soo busy lately, or rather, going out for lunch (to the pub or a nice little church-yard by the office) instead of sitting at my desk...My White Band finally came (well, a few weeks ago now actually!). Over three weeks since I texted "BAND" to 87099 on 28th June, I came home from work to find a

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1122485818406731932005-07-27T18:36:00.000+01:002005-08-04T18:20:28.843+01:00

I seem to be getting people at this blog after searching for "The Colour of a Dog Running Away", a book recently I read by Richard Gwyn. No doubt they are rather confused as to why Yahoo has sent them to me so I thought I'd write a quick book review (WITHOUT giving away the ending!) for these people. Glad to see the book is attracting interest though, it's published by a small publisher and not

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1121779254274979722005-07-19T14:20:00.000+01:002005-07-19T14:20:54.276+01:00

My road trip: -   It started with dust. I got up early to give me time to wash my poor neglected car, to clean the dusty dirt from it's surface and to check that it's insides were up to a journey. As I would hope, having recently spent a couple of days at the garage after failing its MOT, oil; water and screen wash were all OK. There's not much else you can do under the bonnet of modern cars, so

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1121609480769535372005-07-17T14:08:00.001+01:002005-07-17T15:11:20.773+01:00

Anna has returned! Well, it was a while ago now but I've just gotten around to writing this entry into the blog. I was close to striking through her link, giving up hope of future posts, but she returned with a brif entry. Part explanation of her absence from the web-world, part declaration of her still slightly troubled state-of-mind. Struggling againsts wakefullness and no-doubt some deeper

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1121470662995129752005-07-16T00:37:00.000+01:002005-07-16T00:38:38.750+01:00

Thought I'd tell you about the 2 minutes silence yesterday, in memory of those killed last Thursday.Unlike most silences, the Mayor of London (never sure if that's referring to the person or the office) said everyone should stand outside their offices for the 2 minutes, rather than just sit at their desk as is the custom. This made the whole event much more visible, no doubt a sign of defiance

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1121000540949692042005-07-10T13:36:00.001+01:002005-07-10T14:04:27.996+01:00

Just posted my last post below when I noticed I'd had a visitor. I looked into my stats to find that this person had arrived at my blog through a Yahoo search. The search term used shocked and disgusted me. There is no possible, morally acceptable reason for typing these 3 words into a search engine. None. IP user 207.41.124.26 you are sick and need help.Children of Big Cabin, Oklahoma, USA, I

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1120998275937868302005-07-10T13:25:00.000+01:002005-07-10T13:24:35.943+01:00

The #8 bus drove past my house last night. This was odd to say the least, my road being what you might describe as "residential" with cars parked either side along it making much of it a bi-directional one-way street. So it was, to say the least, an odd sight to see the great big bus amongst the streams of other vehicles passing my window. Even though it was only a single-decker (the

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1120860855405678582005-07-08T23:03:00.000+01:002005-07-08T23:14:15.410+01:00

The first hint that something not-quite-right was afoot in London came as I passed London Bridge Underground station on my way into work. It was about ten past nine. I heard a snippet of a conversation between a woman and a man. The woman seemed to be asking directions. "Where's Kings Cross station?" she asked the man. His reply seemed strangely random yet specific to my naive ears: "Do you

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1120859811018365492005-07-07T23:00:00.000+01:002005-07-08T22:56:51.030+01:00

Everyone seems to be reading the Evening Standard tonight. It seems to be wholey devoted to the "terror attacks" today; as you might expect. The attacks that have murdered at least 35 people who expected to see their wives, husbands, children, families again tonight. People whose wive, husbands, children and family will never see alive again.My sister, naive as to my route to work, had thought

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1120655572596533592005-07-06T14:12:00.000+01:002005-07-06T14:12:52.613+01:00

Last one that is, even though we're closer to the next one.   I went out for a few drinks with A and his girlfriend K.  Despite the fact I should have been getting over my cold that had caused me to not taste any of the Mexican meal I'd been out for the night before with work, I thought few whiskey's would do me some good.  Also, I wanted to hear K's tales of Glastonbury so I decided I would

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1120220222003028142005-07-01T13:17:00.000+01:002005-07-01T13:17:02.026+01:00

Where was I?  Oh yes...   So that's just one example of the bourgeois audience that was there.  It was a very middle class audience, though I'm not sure what I expected from Coldplay.  I left Supergrass just before they finished as I needed the little boys room.  The little boys room was also servicing several little girls who didn't want to queue for their own room.  After I fought my way back

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1120049970874179162005-06-29T13:59:00.000+01:002005-06-30T09:26:49.730+01:00

So Monday was Coldplay Day. Took a much needed day off work so that I could meet my sister at 4.30pm at Victoria. She was late, despite wanting to get there earlier, so I bought both our train tickets to Crystal Palace and went and sat in a little grassy square (well, more of a triangle really) on Buckingham Palace Road. Didn't really mind, it was a nice day and there were some cute girls reading

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1119619046135944162005-06-24T13:58:00.000+01:002005-06-24T14:17:29.376+01:00

3 Days to Coldplay!It's Glastonbury weekend this weekend, the last before it goes on it's periodic break. But I'm not going this year (obveously, as I'm here and not sat in a field in Pilton). No one to go with, despite the fact that I do know people who are going. Oh well, hopefully it will rain on them like it did on us last year. Probably won't though, it's been so hot this week.Tickets for

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1119550991282266872005-06-23T19:23:00.000+01:002005-06-23T19:23:11.320+01:00

It's strange how I miss people that I don't know and have never even spoken to.  When I first started working here, in the winter, there was a girl I would often pass.  She walked in the opposite direction to me as I made my way down the street my office building is on.  I always noticed her because she wore a brown parka with a hood that had "fur" around it.  Mostly she wore the hood up, making

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1119179317086005462005-06-19T11:05:00.000+01:002005-06-19T12:08:38.240+01:00

A few weeks ago, whilst perusing the back-issues of POSTCARDS and reading about the insomnia that she suffer{s/ed} from, then reading Fight Club, I was reminded of a "stage" I went through in my childhood. I'm not sure how long this stage lasted for, it was a fair few years though I think.As a small child, I was always afraid of my bedroom in the darkness. In the darkness, evil things could see

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1119137586179314382005-06-19T00:17:00.000+01:002005-06-19T00:35:24.560+01:00

I'm on an underground train. It's late and the train is deserted, though hot and sticky as ever. The train screeches into a station.The doors slide open and a girl gets onboard at the far end of the carriage I'm in. She's tall with long black hair that the breeze from the ventilation vents blows behind her; she's also almost completely naked apart from a pair of red, strappy high-healed shoes

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1119049342363009102005-06-17T23:16:00.000+01:002005-06-18T00:02:22.370+01:00

Usually, when I shower at the gym I wear my swimming shorts . This is done under the pretext that I'm either going for a swim or just had one, so showering with them on will wash all of the chlorine out. If I'm honest, though, it's really because I don't feel comfortable being completely naked with anyone. Unless, of course, it's a girl and she's completely naked too. And even then...You see, at

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1118336209768154672005-06-09T17:55:00.000+01:002005-06-09T17:56:49.770+01:00

It was over a year ago now that I finished uni. I remember what it was like to have nothing lined up for you to go onto after summer for the first time since starting school so many years ago. It was a strange feeling, but a nice one. One I may not get again for 50-odd years.

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1118252290149226192005-06-08T18:38:00.000+01:002005-06-08T19:19:44.966+01:00

"What are we going to do tonight then, Brown?""The same thing we do evey night Pinky, TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD."I'm currently formulating a theory that Dan Brown is actually the infamous DARREN BROWN in disguise. A disguise even more fiendish and cunning than Superman's specs and reversed side-parting. Darren Brown, the mind control "artist" who, while we sit at home and watch him twist his

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1117467038100212482005-05-30T16:24:00.000+01:002005-06-02T13:17:36.260+01:00

My car has an admirer. The other day, while getting inside to to drive to see Star Wars III, I noticed "I LOVE YOU"drawn into the rain-dust.Perhaps it's the blue, soft-top Toyota MR2 Roadster that likes to park up close? Although on second thoughts, I think she's got a thing going on with the silver Ford Focus with alloy wheels that's often seen hanging around of a weekend.I smudged out the

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1117409242316776462005-05-30T00:24:00.000+01:002005-05-30T18:57:46.346+01:00

I woke up with a bright orange bucket next to me and a pint of water ready for me to spill it. Later, successive strangers walked into the lounge that was my bedroom of the night, eyes drawn to the bucket and the shadow of the spilled water on the carpet and formed their first impressions of me.I'd thought these days were behind me like my carefree student ones...I could say it was all cousin C's

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1117212361236997042005-05-27T17:25:00.000+01:002005-06-19T12:10:11.873+01:00

Yay! Finally hit the century mark! Congratulations Mr/Mrs/Miss ??? from Brussels, although as you didn't leave a reply you don't get the balloons and streamers.Instead, the balloons go to.................. Anna of Pennsylvania ..... you were actually visitor #107.

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1117022683794227932005-05-25T13:04:00.000+01:002005-06-19T12:10:32.563+01:00

Where did all my visitors go? I was getting all excited waiting for my about 100th hit, I was going to have balloons and streamers and everything, but in the past 12 days I've only had 3 hits :o( And 2 of those were by me accidentally! Usually Blogger sends loads of people through at the weekend, but there's been nothing for the past 2 weeks. No that the visitors that click through probably stay

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1116762288233108562005-05-22T12:44:00.000+01:002005-05-22T12:44:48.330+01:00

I've never been richer than I am at the moment; but I have been poorer! (i.e. the black number is still less than the biggest red number) Though I don't include my Student Loan, so really I'm stil red :-(

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1116687674688427142005-05-21T15:34:00.000+01:002005-05-21T16:03:01.596+01:00

Went outside Euston Station for the first time today. Usually it's just a node between New Street and East Croydon, I didn't even know what area it's in. It's in Camden.My reason for stepping beyond the boundary of Euston Station was the fact that I'd missed my 9.34am train. The reason I'd missed my train was a composite of two distinct reasons. Firstly, I'd forgotten that I was on the Victoria

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1116508478166959572005-05-19T14:14:00.000+01:002005-05-21T15:34:00.153+01:00

Nothing much to say so I'll just talk about nothing much...I tried to make small-talk with one of the Sandwich Shop Girls today, as it was quite. Asked how long the awning had been up outside, cos I've never noticed it before and it's black with big white writing on so I'd think I would have. I don't think she understood me, or at least she didn't understand the word "awning", so after my 2nd

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1116352709877089102005-05-17T18:58:00.000+01:002005-05-21T15:31:00.150+01:00

Here's my weekend briefly: Saturday, didn't do much. Some shopping in Croydon. Sunday, went to the gym in London, had to try out my new padlock I'd bought on Sat. Usual lathargic workout, then went swimming. Decided to swim ANTI-clockwise, as opposed to the way that the signs in each lane say to go. If someone asked me why I was swimming the wrong way I'd have said it could be one of 3 reasons: 1

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1116004067755919432005-05-13T18:07:00.000+01:002005-05-13T18:07:47.813+01:00

What's the name of that child-star actress from the 60's - I think she was in Breakfast at Tiffany's or something.  Dark hair, brown eyes.  There's a famous pic of her with long gloves on and a cigarette in a long filter.  I can't get "Natalie Wood"s name out of my head, but I know it's not her.  I just ask cos I saw a lady on the train with that picture printed on her handbag and I came up with

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1115905628230368862005-05-12T14:47:00.000+01:002005-05-12T14:47:08.260+01:00

Not really had any fun adventures lately, but thought I should write anyway just to highlight how little fun you can have whilst travelling so much.   I was in Birmingham at the weekend, took the train Friday after work.  However, on Monday I had to go to Nottingham and P wanted me to take a laptop on the off chance I could put some data on it we'd been waiting for.  So I had to lug this laptop

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1115551745393903552005-05-08T11:51:00.000+01:002005-05-08T16:50:53.963+01:00

Here's a photo that's been morphed into a copy of the photo (drawn by the hugely talented me).[Original photo by Emma Delves-Broughton for Loaded magazine][Morphed using (the originally titled) Morpheus. (free 5-morphs trial)]

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1115506775794983012005-05-07T23:54:00.000+01:002005-05-07T23:59:35.803+01:00

The Daily CommuteWatching people through their translucent reflections in the train windows.

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1115478197592581822005-05-07T16:03:00.000+01:002005-05-07T16:28:52.803+01:00

I got a text from K this morning... actually, better start at the beginning. Well, maybe not THE beginning as that's a long way back to go an would take far too long. I'll start instead at some relevant point in between. Lets call it, for argument's sake, a week ago last Wednesday.In a vain attempt to plan my Birmingham weekend in advance I sent texts to all my brummy friends; K, U, L, V and S

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1115312234395510382005-05-05T17:57:00.000+01:002005-05-05T17:57:14.420+01:00

So today is the 5th of May, Election Day.  I didn't vote.  Or rather, I didn't vote today.  I posted my Birmingham vote on Saturday and I've not got a vote down here (as, I think I've mentioned, I don't live here!)  At first I thought it might be a day of High Alert against terrorism, but then I thought if you wanted to change a government by blowing people up, you'd make your move before

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1114950232109078622005-05-01T13:20:00.000+01:002005-05-01T13:23:52.110+01:00

Aside from the fact that the entries get out of sync with the window after a few scrolls, would the kind stranger passing through this page please let me know if the Jukebox looks weird on your resolution / browser?Thanks!

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1114893277371315602005-04-30T22:19:00.000+01:002005-05-02T15:59:39.476+01:00

a: because I hate computers! They're OK when they work, in fact they're great when the work - it's just that I seem to have the knack of persuading them not to work.Thought I could speed up my aging old frenemy by re-formatting my system hard drive and installing an actual legitimate copy of XP I've had for ages. Easy enough one might think. But no, obviously not as I'm writing this. Problem 1:

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1114816217497388442005-04-29T23:42:00.000+01:002005-04-30T00:10:17.496+01:00

There was a man stumbling from the train station yesterday evening. He fell against a wall, held onto it for support. Thought about asking if he needed any help, but I've seen lots of people who can't walk properly around here so thought it might be some disability and he might take offence or something. Looked over my shoulder as I walked by to check he was OK."Can you help me" he calls out;

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1114104647736658312005-04-21T19:27:00.000+01:002005-04-21T18:30:47.740+01:00

Hello,Here's your longer letter and it is indeed later...Have I told you about my current living arrangements? They're somewhat "underground" (not literally). I'm living with my dad in his rented 1 bedroom flat, sleeping on a bed settee in the lounge. My clothes are kept in the 2nd wardrobe in his bedroom (along with my mom's weekend clothes), my coats and shoes in the closet in the hall, my

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1113484536389301282005-04-14T14:15:00.000+01:002005-04-16T00:51:02.836+01:00

As I was saying, I hatched a cunning and devious plan. It was this: In Croydon swap Fight Club for a more expensive book at Waterstones then go to HMV and buy Fight Club for £3, possibly returning Kaiser Chiefs if it turned out to not be that great (£14 is a lot of money to spend on a CD you don't really like). When I got back I carfully opened Kaiser Chiefs without taking the security seal off

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1113317617851635862005-04-12T15:53:00.000+01:002005-04-16T00:46:05.646+01:00

Thought I'd tell you about my "adventures" at the weekend. Saturday I set myself the task of buying a book from Waterstones and a CD from HMV on Oxford Street. Not too difficult I hear you cry... but I have to find my way from London Victoria to Oxford Street without the aid of the Underground. It's not really that difficult, and quite a nice walk on a nice day. Down Buckingham Palace Rd, cut

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1112976839849397842005-04-08T17:13:00.000+01:002005-04-12T15:56:43.736+01:00

Thank-you for your kind words Anna of Postcards. I still don't knowwho Sophia and Yaldaboath are though.[update: As always, the Matrix has the answer (to the question of Sophia and Yaldaboath).]

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1112540576743324062005-04-03T15:38:00.000+01:002005-04-03T16:02:56.746+01:00

Thursday night is Jazz night at the pub down the road. Jazz always reminds me of Sesamie Street or Monster's Inc. or that car advert (although I'm not sure for which car), but that's neither here nor there. My dad always tries to go as often as he can, making himself a Thursday night regular. I try and go with him whenever I can, mainly because I don't like the thought of him sat at the end of

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1112289825266844812005-03-31T18:23:00.000+01:002005-04-01T21:49:44.763+01:00

You remember the other week I told you about Uko's party for Lisa, and how I was taking drags from a cigarette of this girl I liked? Well the weird thing about that night was that it should have been the most unlikely night of the whole year that I'd smoke, as it was the anniversary of my granddad dying of throat cancer from a lifetime of smoking. After seeing what smoking had reduced him to:

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1111708900903727662005-03-25T00:07:00.000+01:002005-03-25T01:01:40.906+01:00

So my train-ride home for Easter wasn't too interesting, until just as we pulled into the station and all stood up in the isle waiting to be allowed off and I found myself stood behind a beautiful woman. Blonde hair tied up with a blue band, gorgeous blue eyes behind stylish specs, pale skin, long legs and thin waist. I was dying to talk to her, find out who she was, if I'd have a chance in a

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1111705490863459712005-02-21T23:50:00.000+01:002005-03-25T00:05:32.446+01:00

...My train journey back yesterday was probably more intersting though. I managed to jump on the 16:30 train to Euston just before it left, so there weren't too many spare seats. I looked for a table as I always do, the first one I found with a spare seat was with 2 black guys and a little girl of about 2 or 3. Little kids always make me feel self-concious for some reason, I think its the way

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1108648537219705032005-02-14T14:50:00.001+01:002005-02-18T14:47:39.566+01:00

... I had a bit of a Frank Spencer moment in my hotel room after I'd unpacked. A bottle of Coke that I bought at the service station wascooling in my fridge. Having worked for a brewery I know all aboutfizzyness (not the technical term, obveously) and how the bubbles areless keen on escaping when the liquid is cool. So I wasnt too worriedabout the fact that the bottle had been rolling around on

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1108231289878140662005-02-10T14:57:00.001+01:002005-02-18T14:44:17.386+01:00

... I belive that what it would have told me, had I heard it, was "Thenext train to approach on this platform is not the one you want. Also, you're on the wrong platform for the one you do want, dumb-a##."[10:50] I get onto thetube. The next stop [10:53] is not the stop I was expecting had Ibeen on the correct line. Looking at my handy tube map I see that Ican change at the next stop, get on the

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1108231903423739902005-02-09T14:32:00.001+01:002005-02-18T14:41:58.246+01:00

Hello,Thought I'd split my weekend tales into installments so that 1) I'll have time and 2) you won't get so bored reading one long mail (although you may get bored for shorter periods of time more often, so maybe it's not as good for you).Anyway, I'll start on Saturday morning. We were all supposed to meet up somewhere near the office with our drivers at 11am sharp, nolate-comers please. However

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1103332836002062922004-12-18T02:20:00.000+01:002005-02-18T14:37:45.096+01:00

I wonder if Damian Rice acutally has an Eskimo friend, and if he did if his friend would rather be his Inuit friend. Where does an Irish man meet an eskimo anyway? No, it's not a joke but maybe I'll think of a punchline soon. Not sure why I'm starting a blog right now, I'm hardly ever at a position to write to it, what with having no computer down in my new home in London (well, Croydon is

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9668062.post-1119134298245186992004-12-18T00:00:00.000+01:002005-06-18T23:56:24.003+01:00

Please leave your message after the tone...Bingley-bingley-beeep.

8480http://www.blogger.com/profile/05100968898873547280noreply@blogger.com2