Northurn Munki Joins The London Circus

3k and Falling...

2005-05-10T18:35:00.000+01:00

My personal debt is still falling, hopefully I might even get a bonus from work soon this year - meaning I can write even more of it off.

I've started planning my wishlist of things I'd like to buy (when I win the lottery):
1) A flat in St Katherine's dock or maybe just over Tower Bridge, down some of the nice little streets.
Myself and C spent last Saturday taking a walk/mini-pub crawl around the centre of London and ended up here - very nice.

2) A nice fat speed-boat or yacht.
Preferably something really fast, powered by solar and wind power with a secondary power source if needs. Stealth technology, auto-pilot, etc.

3) A home in the Channel Islands.
Somewhere I can bugger off to at the weekends in the afore mentioned water craft. Obviously this has added advantages being as the islands are tax havens, the people speak English and the currency is Sterling.

4) A mansion house in Hull.
Hull properties can be bought from as modest a price as £7k [if you like corporation windows and ASBO neighbours], it's on the coast (handy for travelling in boats) and it's in my native Yorkshire.

Jersey

2005-05-10T18:34:00.000+01:00

It was C's birthday so I decided to book her a suprise trip to Jersey. It was 'liberation' weekend - unfortunately I'd not done enough mental calculations to realise that it was the 60th aniversary of VE day and the fact that the islands was once occupied by Hitlers goons may be somewhat of a cause for celebration amongst the islanders (even though there seemed to be more Irish accents than any others kicking around).

The Queen decided to turn up for the even too - we managed to catch a glimse of her driving past waving regally.

There was much fun to be had - food and drink stalls, a parade of WWII vehicles, the red arrows doing ariel displays, ex-service men displaying their medals, 21 gun salutes, overly apparent M15 operatives walking around, drunken sailors, etc.

Not really what I'd expected but it was fun all the same even though I'm not overly a Royalist. Still we might be better off with a Monarchy than the Banana Republic Democracy we currently have, at least a Monarch should be able to plan for the future of the country rather than the short sighted 5 year plans of politicians. On the other hand getting rid of a Monarch is somewhat more bloody and difficult (not that I wouldn't like to string the politicians up). You get the same problems though - their more concerned with their own comforts and lifestyle.

Anyhow the weather was gorgeous but the cooling breeze disguise the evil solar radiation - I'm now somewhat overcooked!!!

All Clear On the Southern Front

2005-05-10T18:31:00.000+01:00

My little friend has now departed - well I'm infected for life but the symptoms have gone. That's the problem with viruses - they stay with you forever, roll on advances in medical science.

The Stock Exchange

2005-04-27T17:58:00.000+01:00

I visited the good old London Stock Exchange in the evening to attend a talk on small cap shares, the corridors were paved with gold – well marble. The toilet doors were massive mahogany panels. Very plush, next time I’m taking a bag with me so I can half inch one of their emblazoned coffee cups.

Actually I’ve decided to attempt to get my Certificate in Investment Management and get myself a City job – bit of an extreme career change, hell the only time I ever see 6 a.m. is when it’s past bed time but, well… we all have our dreams.

Knob Doctor (pt. 2)

2005-04-27T17:55:00.000+01:00

Since my last entry I’ve had to endure a little pain – if I thought the initial blast of freezing nitrogen was painful I obviously wasn’t expecting the pain of urinating and occasionally just irritating for no reason. The treated area swelled, became painful and turned white.

After a couple of days things got better and after a bunch of lilies, a home cooked meal of duck with spring onions, ginger, noodles in sweet chillie sauce and a heap of hugs, C was feeling reassured. She’d worried I’d think ‘That’s what you get for dating random internet girls’ – not at all.

So feeling amorous, horny (for the first time in days) and bagged up [yes a little late I know] we hit the hay…

After the money shot the pain was intense, maybe the strong alkaline sperm had irritated my cold induced wound?

Anyhow, things soon calmed down, my tiny cauliflower looking guest is on the way out, C went to get checked out too – apparently she has an infection and has been on the antibiotics, let’s hope all turns out well.

I went back to the clinic yesterday, same embarrassed looks on the guys faces only this time I was a little cheerier, knowing that I had merely come back for a second dose of treatment for my Human Papilloma Virus. Apparently 50-75% of the sexually active female population in the Western world is infected – oh and there’s no cure…

Still doing a search round the web I figure I got away lightly with my tiny bump – there are some seriously scary pictures out there with growths that look like huge broccoli sprouts growing all around one guy’s helmet!!!

How to Get a Hospital Appointment

2005-04-21T14:30:00.000+01:00

Something had been irritating and worrying me – it was time to get it checked out. I phoned the hospital on Monday morning.

“Hello the Lydia clinic.”
“Hi I’d like to make an appointment please.”
“I’m sorry all the appointments are taken, try phoning back next Monday.”

Hmmm, that’s one way to keep the waiting lists down I guess.

Tuesday I decided to take another approach – I turned up to the walk in clinic and managed to get a ticket to see the doctor in the afternoon.

So there I am, sat in a waiting room full of the most furtive, sheepish looking men on the planet, heads hung in shame. I glance around to the coffee table next to me and pick up the well thumbed copy of GQ. Strangely no one else has bother to pick it up and flicking through the pages I suddenly discover why. This month’s installment of high gloss, lads mag has the following articles:
What women like in bed
Bikini shots
Strangely the site of well oiled, nubile young women wearing nothing more than a couple of bits of string fails to arouse me. It’s something to do with the context and the current worries on my mind.

I place it back and watch the badly tuned TV, placed at an awkward angle given my current seat. Eventually I’m called through…

I sit through the usual list of questions – I say usual, not that they’re the kind of questions asked in polite conversation (do you use intravenous drugs, have you slept with prostitutes, do you have sex with men…[no, no, no – incase your wondering]) but I’ve been in these situations on more than one prior occasion. Maybe I should have learnt my lesson you might think, well bloody hell – I hope this is the last time.

Then we get down to the crux, or maybe I should say the point of the matter in hand. I explain the symptoms, the strange little white growth and my suspicions, given that C told me she’d had this previously.

We go to the examination room, this is one of those incredibly uncomfortable situations – I show the offending part of my anatomy, having to squeeze the end slightly to allow him to look just inside the pipe-work.

“Yes, I think that’s what you’ve got. We can give it some treatment now but you’ll have to come back every week for 4 to 6 weeks so we can treat it properly, given it’s location.”

Yikes!

So there I am, looking and feeling uncomfortable, holding my pride and joy in my hands whilst a guy I’ve never met before fires a jet of freezing liquid nitrogen right into my most delicate areas – not once – but three separate times, each until I can no longer stand the burning sensation.

I’ve taken pain before, had what amounts to long, thin, cotton wool buds shoved down those parts by over zealous nurses before but this is something different. OK maybe I exaggerate a bit, it wasn’t that bad. Now I’ve just got to wait for it to scab up, go black & drop off!!!

Snickers and Cream Cakes

2005-04-21T14:29:00.000+01:00

Friday night saw us in our new local - Ganton's celebrating my manager’s birthday. Much alcohol was consumed. On the way home myself and C had a bit of an argument, well – not really an argument, she just took something I’d told her the wrong way. My fault I guess – being drunk wasn’t really the best time to bring up my concerns but we kissed and made up for it. More on this later…

Saturday night saw us at the End listening to Laurent Garnier, there was a group of about 20 of us – friends and friends of friends. A good night was had by all and I managed to meet a couple of other random Northerners too.

By 6 a.m. we were danced out so me and C got our coats and headed to the tube. Walking past St Paul’s, all white and marbley in the early morning sun, the streets quiet on a sunny Sunday morning. We reached the tube station and waited for the first tube, resting our weary bones against the platform wall.

Suddenly the station started to fill up, crowds of wide eyed, overly energetic and garishly dressed people. Wearing bright, flammable, plastic clothing, tracksuits and trainers, carrying water bottles. What the hell was this – some new chav rave sub-culture? No… it was the London Marathon, I’d totally forgotten.

We escaped home and hit the hay for 12 hours.

Curry Me Home...

2005-04-14T17:57:00.000+01:00

Last night myself and C went on a mini bender (mid week drinks) and hit brick lane for a curry.

I was sadly disappointed by the culinary delights on offer, not a patch on the curries of Bradford. Oh well, guess that’s life in London’s Curry Mecca.

Today I’ve had some strange feeling of depression for no apparent reason; maybe it’s an after effect from last night’s food? Something just doesn’t feel right in my little world and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because G has left our flat and we still don’t know whose going to move into the now empty room?

Maybe a walk will clear my mind – the past few days I’ve been walking home from the West End in an attempt to get fit (by breathing in all those fumes!) – I guess by road it’s around 3.5 to 4 miles home. The weather looks a bit nasty though – maybe I’ll just go inhale someone’s armpit odours instead on the tube and go to the gym after I get home?

I don’t mind the walking though – I get to orientate myself with the City and see some of its inhabitants.

Monday I wandered back via Trafalgar Square and across Waterloo Bridge and via the Cut. I don’t know if it’s because the weather has been particularly sunny of late but I seem to have seen the Hare Krishnas around quite a bit of late.

Tuesday I wandered east past St Paul’s and the City. At one point saw a guy off his head wandering into the middle of the yellow hashed traffic box (do not enter unless you can exit) on the road at a massive crossroads, shouting abuse at the traffic, obviously not 100% corpus mentis.

Politics

2005-04-13T16:15:00.000+01:00

Please change the channel now...

OK its election time, I’m fed up of it already. Not that I'm non-political but all the donkeys in this years derby have been doped (as well as the populous thanks to Fluoride and the reclassification of cannabis) and the jockeys club is seriously looking into race fixing allegations.

For years I was a Tory, which if you know my name as well as the timing and place of my childhood is ironic, it's just that I really don’t want to vote for any of the major parties. I haven't backed a major party candidate for the last couple of elections and what's more I'm not register to at my new address.

What I'm proposing is a new method of government, forget the "here’s your 3+ candidate choices, attempt to pick the lesser of the evils live with the fact that your one X every 4 or so years has probably been thrown aside/miscounted by some election riggers" sytem of present.

Here’s how it would work:

You have multiple ballot papers to place an X on:
1) The candidate you want for your area.
2+ Your option preferences with regards various topics of the day, such as:

Immigration
Would you like to repatriate those not born in Britain? _
Would you prefer preset annual limits based on skills shortages, etc? _
Are you in favor of current legislation and procedures? _
I'd like to decrease the regulations on immigration; my mail order bride is in the post, my lover's nanny needs a visa and I need a cleaner who’ll work for peanuts cos the dog's just shat on the carpet. _
Sod it, just like mum – I'm off to Iceland. Where's my visa? _

EU
I want to be a citizen of the super state, it can't be any worse than being ruled by you muppets. _
We need more European centralisation and legislation. _
Things are OK at present. _
I want to have free trade agreements with Europe but no more. _
We need a bigger moat. _

The Euro
I want to switch to the Euro. _
I want to keep Sterling. _
I want to use magic beans and bartering instead. _

ID Cards
I don't think this is a good idea. _
I'm in favor of national ID cards. _
Let's just microchip everyone and have done with it. _

The Health Service
We need to increase investment in the NHS. _
I like the current NHS system as it stands. _
We should attempt to reduce waste and increase efficiency in the current system. _
Patients should have more choice as to where to be treated and have half the money refunded if they wish to go private. _
Stop making me pay taxes to be treated like a burden and looked down the nose at, I'd rather pay when I’m ill, to hell with the poor, evolution is King. _

Drugs
Should cannabis be reclassified as a class A drug? _
Should cannabis be reclassified as a class B drug? _
Should cannabis remain as a class C drug? _
Cannabis should remain illegal, dealers prosecuted but individuals should be allowed to grow no more than 2 plants per household without incurring legal penalties. _
Decriminalize cannabis totally. _
Legalize cannabis for sale and tax it. _
Legalize all drugs. _

Genetic Modification
Should GM crops and foodstuffs be made illegal? _
We require more data, they should be considered harmful and more small scale research should be undertaken. _
We should allow the sale of GM crops and foodstuffs if clearly labeled. _
I don't see a problem with GM food. _
I'd rather have GM and fewer pesticides and look forward to designing my baby / wife / clone / goldfish. _

Maybe I should make a web-poll for this?

How to back a winning 'Os

2005-04-11T12:42:00.000+01:00

Os - recently coined colloquialism for horse in the Yorkshire dialect. See The Rules of 'Os'

Well Saturday started off with a great sunny spell, a hangover and a royal wedding. Unlike the media of this country would have you believe the vast majority of the populous of this island don't give much of a toss about which ugly inbred is marry which other ugly divorced inbred or even give a jot about what the soon to be in-laws of the aforementioned allegedly thought of the arrangement.

We all had bigger things on our mind - the Grand National. The nations favourite way to see animals being put down and humans trampled, oh the spectacle of it all - plus it's the day even the most tight-pursed amongst us get to stick a wager on t' 'orses.

Unfortunately the beasts I picked were nags: Just in Debt came in 9th and Forest Gunner was just out of the money coming in 5th. C had more luck - she'd picked the winner Hedgehunter. Well done C! ;-)

Saturday night saw us at her friends for a dinner party, after a hearty feast of homemade curries, popadoms, onion bahjis, samosas, and dessert we made the long crawl home from Ealing our bellies full. We'd left things a little late so the last tube only got us as far as Earl's Court so we hit the night bus home, taking in the night time scenery of Kensington before getting off at Trafalgar Square. We then proceeded to walk home down the South bank in an attempt to burn off some of the excess calories.

Sunday was a glorious day, my flat having been invaded by another couple of Aussies temporarily (G's mates, they're all off traveling) and I noticed our dishwasher seemed to have become home to a colony of ants (guessing they came up the drain) so I switched it on and gave them a good rinse before we went for a stroll and a few cheeky beers on the pub roof garden.

Well its Monday now - I might not of backed a winning 'Os but the shares I bought in a fit of panic speculation on Thursday (Virotec) are doing the business - up 5% at the end of Friday and they're up another 5% already today. Wish I'd bought more! The only trouble is unlike horse racing you need to pick a point to jump off before everything goes pear shaped. Still from 24p to 27.5p isn't bad in 2 days trading. I think I'm becoming an addict!

Vote Me!

2005-04-07T16:05:00.000+01:00

Well it's my Aussie flat-mate’s penultimate leaving do tonight, she's off traveling round Europe for a bit with her friend before we finally bid her farewell and send her back off to Sydney.

That reminds me, we have a slight wager to fulfill - I'm supposed to wear her Aussie flag shorts and run round the block whist she does the same in some Union Jack ones - well, I'll be kind and get her a bikini. One of the really tacky ones off the market stalls down Oxford Street. I never asked her size, guess I'll have to see how big they make those thongs and make an educated guess.

In other news I've opened a self trading maxi-ISA (Individual Savings Account) with comdirect so I can start trading without giving that fat b**tard in No.11 Downing Street a cut of my hard earned (good for up to £7000 worth of tax exemption). I'm contemplating hitting the ETF (Exchange Traded Funds) market and gambling on the FTSE - I just need to do a few calculations first and time it right - it'll probably go a little wobbly around the 5th of May due to Election Day.

I'm seriously considering gambling/investing in putting myself up for election too - £500 and I could potentially be on the gravy train for life. Hell if I don't get in I only need about 3% of the vote and I get my stake back... no one fancies the retards that stand for the major parties anyhow.

Other investment news is thus: the OEICs I'm investing in have lost me £2 over a month, arse. Still given the percentages of commission charged I'm at a roughly breakeven position. Come next month I'll see if I could gamble it more effectively myself.

Waaaarrrrrgggghhhhh!

2005-04-05T14:20:00.000+01:00

Sorry about the lack of updates, still in flat redecoration hell.
Bleeding half-arsed landlords and cowboy decorators doing the rest of the flat.

We are now missing 150 CDs - taken without consent.

I have also made our dumbass letting agent aware of his responsibilities under the Housing Act of 1985 and the House of Multiple Occupation sections, due to change.

Other than that I've:

Watched Dr Who on the influence of magic mushrooms. It didn't help, it was still crap - no wonder Mr Eccleson decided to quit, and Billy Piper - oh go back to shagging unfunny, ugly, bespectacled ginger TV presenters with a thing for prepubesant girls.

Ten years younger the TV cosmetic surgery program is called but all it too for me was a clean shave and haircut. I went to the rather run down barbers shop on Bermondsey Street - I needed plastic (card) surgery on exiting - £12 for a haircut!!! That's 3 times what I usually pay.

I almost needed a heart surgeon as well, I'd have fallen off the chair if the guy didn't (literal) have a cut-throat razor to my neck. Scary shit, not the blade but the fact that it was a proper 'old-skool' style, not the new ones that look like them but actually have disposable blades in them. All I could think was how many AIDS monkeys have you slit open with that, I really don't give a f**k how many times you dip it in Barbicide first!!!

I've also been getting far too drunk recently - nothing new there, and failing miserably to get to the gym.

I booked to go and see Laurent Garnier playing on the 16th at The.End

Not sure if I mentioned it before but I bumped into a guy I used to share an office with at my last workplace - in the gym at London Bridge! He still worked there when I left, it's a bleeding tiny planet!!!

Update

2005-03-23T12:19:00.000Z

A little update:

Well the kitchen is now sparkly clean with a new floor, ceiling, paint and new looking thanks to the lads. My room is too and looking nice and neat until I manage to rebuild my horizontal wardrobe (piles of pre-warn clothing, scattered across the floor and intermingled with piles of fresh (un-ironed) clothes.
My collection of vintage 80s synth gear is neatly arranged in the corner (not wired up yet then) and as an added redecoration bonus the decorators painted two of my coats! (Oh well things happen.)

The boiler is still not fixed, so anyone wanting a thermal spa type experience is welcome to the free hot water outside our flat.

After an expensive night on Friday down The Lab (first round of 7 drinks topped £60, I was buying!!!) I staggered back up to Oxford Circus via 2 McDonalds to meet my flatmate M and a lass from his work in the pub. They'd spent the evening on the booze and the nose bag (read: candy, charlie, snow...) Unfortunately the bar had stopped serving so we headed back to the flat via the all night off-license. I wasn't feeling drunk at all, even though my credit card was on fire from all the cocktails so we got some bottles of wine and polished these off too, then I hit the beers in the fridge - finally retiring around 6am.

The rest of my weekend was a fairly dry affair - no sex (C had gone to Edinburgh) and no drink (I'd had too much).

Hopefully I can make up for it this weekend with it being the extra long Easter weekend - C's off to Germany so I guess that means I'm left to my own devices! Still we caught up Monday (impromtu pissup round Soho - met some mad guys one of them is in a band called Paleday) and I'm seeing her tomorrow and Friday till she jets off...

Bob the Builder & St Patrick

2005-03-18T10:36:00.000Z

The decorators turned up yesterday to start rearranging our kitchens colour scheme and fixing the big hole in the ceiling.

This I didn't mind, what I did object to was one of the guys who owns the flat coming in the day before (without our consent) and writing us a snotty note saying he didn't find the state of the flat or the fact we hadn't started rearranging the kitchen for there arrival acceptable.

This really pissed us off - did he expect us to not use our kitchen for an extra day while we waited for the guys? The fact it's taken them a full year to getting the repairs done I find unacceptable. The fact the builders had been promised £500 deposit but he only left them £200 was unacceptable. The fact they seem to think they can waltz in and out of our home at will is unacceptable and illegal. The fact the boiler hasn't been working since last Saturday is unacceptable. Pricks.

It seems the dodgy landlords are preparing to sell the place or at least re-mortgage it, hence the sudden urgency with which decorations are being made. Still valuers are probably complete suckers for those kinds of things - although I'll be pointing a couple of "features" out to any surveyors who come knocking and if they carry on like this I'll be getting the fire brigade in.

Under forthcoming changes to legistation any rented property with three or more rooms, shared by occupants who are not related to one another will be reclassified as a 'house of multiple occupancy'. This changes things with regards fire regulations the landlord of the property must adhere to, plus one of our bedrooms is in a basement with no obvious secondary exit should a fire breakout.

Anyhow, to cheer myself up I went out on the piss for St. Patrick's day. I wish I'd followed The Life of Reily's advice and gone for it a day early - the streets and pubs of London were packed. Still we got chatting to some random Kiwis and had an alright nite.

I turned up home late and reheated the remains of the previous nights dinner I'd made for myself and C - Homemade lasagne. I find it always tastes best reheated - when it all sticks together like some meaty italian version of a vanilla slice, yummy.

I'd also made a smoked duck breast (bought it Borough market) and herb leaf salad. I say made but I'd just bought a bag of leaves from Tescos, chopped a couple of cherry tomatos up and tossed them in with the duck then added a tiny amount of olive oil, little bit of vinegar - Sarrson's fish n chip variety not the "Balsamic" variety and the juice of half a lemon. It was actually very nice and I'm not usually a lover of the leaves.

Below Average and Happy

2005-03-15T16:40:00.000Z

BBC:The average Briton owed £4,000 in unsecured debt at the end of 2004, 10% more than in 2003, a report suggests.
Market analyst Datamonitor said the 2004 figure is 45% higher than at the start of 2000.

http://www.creditaction.org.uk/debtstats.htm
Research by Datamonitor reveals that consumer borrowing via credit cards, motor and retail finance deals, overdrafts and unsecured personal loans has risen to £4,004 per average UK adult at the end of 2004 (£1,302 on credit cards, £1,892 on unsecured personal loans and £812 on overdrafts and motor and retail finance deals). This figure translates into a 10% increase on the previous year's levels and a 45% increase since 2000.

Apparently those figures are the national average (i.e. take the total amount of debt / the total adult population) so I’m now officially below average (or maybe above average depending on your view).

Plus a savings plan I took out with a large financial organization which bares the same name as the Northern town that both it and I am from finally paid out. (Although the town has yet to append its name to include "…Bank of Scotland".)
I’d been sticking £25 a month into it for a year now and had pretty much forgotten about it coming to an end. The interest was pretty crap though (6% AER but calculated monthly so I got an extra £7 for my efforts)

To celebrate I’m now gambling £10 a month of my hard earned on each of the following:
Japanese small companies (which despite the recession have been doing better than the markets and apparently Japan looks like they’re coming out of recession)
Blue chip companies (the Global Mega-Corps)
Global company recoveries (i.e. they’re doing crap but the price might go back up if the company doesn’t go belly up)
Global basic commodities – i.e. mineral ores, metals, wood and basic stuff people make things from. Currently doing quite well (especially steel) due to Chinas rapid expansion.

I’m staying clear of the US and China as much as possible – things could go tits up in either, in my humble opinion.

I’ve also recently taken to reading The Economist and The Investors Chronicle - well it beats the drivel that passes for the national press and I’m getting increasing interested in pensions and the like (arrrghh – getting old) I’m thinking of a SIPP (Self Invested Personal Pension) – to be honest why should I pay some greasy, overpaid city numb nut to loose my retirement fund gambling on the whims of the stock market when I could do an equally bad job, have fun along the way and do it for free!

Gamble, gamble, gamble… spin those flashing reels...

Furry Bits - (Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow)

2005-03-15T16:37:00.000Z

I have decide to attempt to some facial growth, not that I think that it looks good but I’m a rather baby faced and less than hairsuit 29 year old – I probably have more digits than hairs on my chest. So in the spirit of experimentation I am attempting to grow a goatee, I will probably look like a t**t (and a not very well trimmed one at that).

Also I’m in need of a scare-cut, it’s been several months and it’s getting a bit long, floppy and messy looking but I fancy something different. I have had a skin-head before but this is now out of the question as I want to enjoy and do something with my mop whilst I’ve still got it. For many years (oh those glorious 80s) I had a flat-top – not through choice it’s just I have a corn flick and since my hair is somewhat vertically challenged at the front it somewhat limits my choice of haircuts. Since then other than the skins look I’ve just had it a sort of messy spikey thing on my head.

So what do I go for, what’s the trend/fashion? I want to look back at photos of me and go “I can’t believe people had hair like that in the naughties!”
Haircuts I’d like but probably are out of the question:

An afro – not going to happen but I’d love to look like the busker who sings Frank Sinatra songs in Waterloo station.

Dreads – I’d like them but I don’t think it’d do my career much good and I’d have to grow my hair for ages until I could get extensions put in.

So I need your help – what should I go for?
A dodgy perm-ed mullet a la 80s footballers?
A Mohican – 80s punk style or “my name’s Mr Beckham follow my lead”?
A short crew cut, maybe with cut in patterns round the back – chav style?

What’s wrong with me?

2005-03-15T11:31:00.000Z

I seem to be suffering from very fluctuating weight. I only know this as the bathroom in my flat comes complete with scales. I can gain or lose half a stone within twenty four hours – but only the same half a stone.

This seems like insanity – I don’t eat, drink or [sorry for the mental image] excrete that much in a day? What’s going on?

My body must be fuct – one of my eye lids has decided to swell up too, great.

I think it’s time to put an end to the evil weed and alcohol, learn to meditate, exercise more, eat more healthily and grow old gracefully.

Still we’re getting the painters in – our kitchen is finally being redecorated by our more than useless landlords, the flat is getting painted and generally tarted up. Maybe with a new look I can get a fresh start in my general lifestyle too as well as my immediate environment. Hopefully the boiler is getting fixed too – it decided on Saturday that we really didn’t need heating and hot water and it would be much more fun to start an outdoor sauna in the street.

Unfortunately my Ozzie flat mate G is moving out, she’s off traveling for a couple of months then buggering off back to Sydney. I’ll be sad to see her go – even though she does have a strange habit of trying to tweak my nipples at every opportunity she’s down to earth and a good laugh. It’ll be strange having someone else move into the flat – still I might go and get her somewhat larger room.

Strangely my horoscope (I’m a Scorpio): taken from the Daily Mail website – [I don’t really read the paper anymore] said the following:

This week
If you've been feeling under par, or if your work has started to pall, you'll be pleased to hear that from Tuesday onwards fresh energies are on their way to charge you with a new surge of enthusiasm and well-being. Where property, home and domestic matters are concerned, improvements get the thumb-up at the weekend.

Freaky – not that I believe that 1/12 th of the population can have the same things happening to them simultaneously, though I sometimes read my horoscope for the laugh. Strangely though - I was feeling somewhat down on Monday (for no apparent reason), the work bit is bang on, the home improvements is bang on – let’s hope I find these “Fresh Energies”.

Stupidity Tax

2005-03-10T14:07:00.000Z

I've been paying my stupidity tax[Coloquial term meaning: Lottery.] for some years now and have yet to see any return on my investment. OK, I'm sure there's a lot of good causes benefiting from my gambling - such as the Al-Zakarwi Jihad Brigade of East Croydon[Fictional] or some other dubious, random organisations and the Government seems to use the Lottery Funding as an excuse to get out of funding things it should be doing.

Time for a change I think, take my gambing to the next level...

I've been contemplating taking a quid or two down the old turf accountants every Saturday instead. Seems like more fun, better odds - even though I know nothing about 'Os racing.

But that all seems like too much of a gamble too and I rarely surface on a Saturday and can't be bothered hanging around smoke filled bookies with the Tramp-agne [cider] quaffing locals, checking the form.

So I now have a cunning alternative - stock and share investment! Watch this space...

Keeping Fit - Soho Style

2005-03-10T10:17:00.000Z

Well I joined the gym (Fitness Last or some such they are called) and have been attempting to get back into some kind of exercise routine.

The problem I've found though is this is not the kind of gym I'm used to. Where I'm from...
men are men and sheep are scared!
No that's Wales I believe. Joke - Wales is lovely place and well worth a visit.

Sorry bad jokes - no I meant to say the gyms I'm used to are either located in an old [dark satanic style] mill or some dimly lit, windowless industrial unit. They tend to have a large number of free weights, a few weights machines and couple of odd rowing / cycling / cross-trainer / running machines.

They predominantly tend to be filled with over muscular guys who seem to spend alot of time in awe of their own image - oiling themselves and flexing their muscles in front of the mirrors in a kind of solo-sexual manner, wandering around part dressed in a kind of closet homo-erotic manner.

Soho is well... different.

There are still those types there but there seems to be much more in the way of fully camp guys as well. This is strange as I would never imagine the two groups sitting well together. Also there seems to be far less in the way of free-weights but both these types seem to congrigate around them, which is not a problem.

What really pisses me off though is that there's only 3 weights benches and you inevitably get some t**t doing a set of weights exercises then bloody sitting on it for 10 minutes, looking at either himself or the other occupants, twiddling his thumbs before doing another set and then repeating ad-infinitum... arrrrgggh!!!

My attitude to gyms is somewhat more "fast and furious" but not in a solo-sexual, self-image adoring Vin Diesel, muscle mary kind of way. I want to get in, get done and get out as fast as possible. I'm not their to socialise, because I like the strip lighting, wanting to read the celebrity mags or sit around looking buff. I like to circuit train - do a set of arm exercises, do a set of leg ones, repeat again, etc. then go and do some cardio stuff - with no break in between.

I guess I'm ranting, maybe I should find another one, less occupied or go at completely unsociable hours but this is London - it's packed everywhere!!!

Cab Panic Over

2005-03-08T16:08:00.000Z

No worries, her phone was just off - phew.

She got a black cab anyway no the illegal London variety - "Fancy a ride? I have no tax, MOT or insurance on this vehicle, I got my driving license [optional] in Egypt* and I have several convictions for rape and murder. Hop in...

* - I'm not insinuating that the drivers of these illegal cabs are Egyptian although apparently Egypt is the easiest place in the world to get a driving license - you merely have to be able to sign your name and move the vehicle in a straight line for 100 meters then stop.

Actually I have a both a Private Hire License and a Hackney License as well, both still valid (well in parts of Yorkshire at least) guess I'm an over qualified passenger.

I had some fun doing that job, getting offered drugs, party invites (including from a bunch of TA girls in fancy dress - and from what I'm informed Army girls ain't shy), free curries. Watching the nightlife - from wedding guests and people dining at fancy restaurants to drunks, stoners, pill-monkeys, hookers, brawling locals knifing one another. The police, who seemed to spend a lot of time going into takeaways. The guy working at the all night garage falling asleep. The local chav kids trying to kick the cab (great entertainment - wait for the little gits to get within kicking distance then squeal away). Staying awake and sober till 6 a.m. (after finishing my 9-5.30 job beforehand, then starting a shift) - trying to walk home afterwards and noticing you’re seeing trails coming off the street lamps.

Laughing at the odd domestic kicking off in the back:

Girl - drunk and sobbing as she enters: "I'm so sorry..."
Guy doesn't appear too drunk: "I've never been so embarrassed in all my life, what were you thinking? She's supposed to be your friend."
5 minutes of quite sobbing and apologies continue and then she changes tack:
"You never support me."
"What do you mean by that? Did you want me to start insulting her as well?!?"

SLAP! (She’s just slapped hit him a corker across the face)

"That's it, your dumped." he flatly replies.

Communications Failure

2005-03-08T11:53:00.000Z

Arrrghhh I'm so worried.

C's mobile phone isn't recieving getting my messages or calls. I'm starting to worry, especially since her last message was sent to me a 2.30 last night saying she was getting a taxi home. She'd been over to see her friend whose just had an operation for the big C.

I hope I'm worrying unduly, that it's simply switched off or run out of charge or she's lost it. It's the not knowing that worries me. My mind running round a thousand horrible possibilities...

This is like a bad re-run of the weekend.

Friday saw myself, C and my old flatmate A down the Arches. It all got a bit hazy, too much alcohol for my tiny mind and myself and C left around 3ish, A seemed to want to party on.

Anyhow A tried to phone me to get directions around 4am. This wasn't going to happen...
C couldn't tell him where abouts we were and I was well and truely out of it. Apparently after a while I woke and spoke to him, god knows what we said.

The next day I had a terrible hangover and was worried about A. Even more so since he wasn't answering his phone (finally got through to him on Sunday!) but A's a big lad - he can look after himself, C, my little babe... I hope your safe.

The Weekend That Wasn't

2005-03-07T17:10:00.000Z

Urrrgh I still feel rough.

Friday night was a blur. It started innocently enough with a few after works drinks from 5pm. A guy from the US who works for my company was over so we snuck out early. This lasted till around 8ish when I went to meet C and her works buddies at the Camel Bar near Victoria.

At this point I was already intoxicated and feeling the lack of food...

Then A phoned to say he'd made it to London and was in some bar, somewhere (it's all sketchy) with some of his buds. So off we went.

I seem to remember having a heated discussion with some guy about politics and unions (bad choice of subjects), anyhow after this we left and went to The Arches near London Bridge. There was some kind of Breakbeat event on, I can't really remember much but I bumped into the American guy again here.

Apparently I was dancing on a stage, running around with my wooly hat on and generally getting upto insanity.

Around 3.30am myself and C left but my friend decided he wanted to stay so we left him there. He apparently later phoned to get directions, I was unconcious, C didn't have a clue where I lived at this point either. Apparently after much swearing I half woke up and answered the phone. At this point I didn't know my address either (or probably what species I was).

Saturday didn't happen, me and C woke around 12. This created "The Bacon Sandwich Fiasco" - I kept promising to make some bacon butties but alternating between being tired and horny we didn't make it out of bed for various reasons until 7pm.

So we got up, showered, dressed and ordered a curry before watching some crap TV. C noticed the nipple incident, my mind was elsewhere. My friend A wasn't answering his phone so we didn't know if he was OK, dead, mugged, getting his leg over or simply in a huff.

Sunday - after a night off the beers myself and C headed out for a bit of culture and something to eat.

We started at the Bermondsey Kitchen, this is a rather yuppified eatery come bar. Nothing really appealed so we necked our beers before moving on...

Next the Rose, a rather 'localesque' pub, near St Guy's hospital nestling in the shadow of 2 council tower blocks. They didn't serve food so we had a couple more beers beside the 'open' (gas imitation) fire before moving on once more.

We head towards the Borough market, it's shut as it's Sunday but we wander past the fish resturant (called Fish!. Neither of us fancy some rich fishy based cusine on top of lager so we wander into the Market Porter pub (one of my faves). The sign says they do food but unfortunately they're shutting early due to renovations we are informed, we get a quickie in [drink!] before they close.

So we wandered off down Borough High Street, I finally got a Sunday Roast in Belushi's far from the best I've had but we were starving. After that we wandered back up the High Street and went to The George Inn - an old coaching inn, the courtyard now surrounded on three sides with bland office space. Surprisingly given its age this place had absoulutley no atmosphere - I think it's more of a tourist hotspot.

Then like a drunken four legged spider on a pub crawl we hit the Old Kings Head before finishing off with a final kick to our livers in the Horseshoe.

Weekend Warriors...

2005-03-04T12:15:00.000Z

The weekend is here!

After a few cheeky beers round Waterloo last night I woke this morning bleary eyed with C next to me, she told me it was snowing outside but I promptly fell back into my dream world after she'd left.

By the time I was dressed and out of bed and heading to work (already late) the snow had finally managed to deposit a thin covering over SE1 - it had been trying on and off for some weeks!

So I bounce happily through the snow, gloves and hat on, through the Friday antiques market in Bermondsey Square.

Tonight my old flat mate A from my Uni days in Dundee is coming down (from Cambridge) to visit for the weekend. This could get messy, in our previous adventures we have:

1) Ended up passed out on the pavement/wall outside the most expensive bar in Cambridge.
2) Spent far too many evenings drinking Glenmorangie till we can neither speak or stand.
3) Had a house party in our squat of a dwelling...

Actually that last point I shouldn't say we. It was A and my other flat mate, the first I knew of it was coming home on Saturday afternoon and not being able to get in through the front door.
Something was impeding its opening...
A few good shoves and I managed to wedge open enough of a crack to squeeze in and see what the problem was...
A f**kin huge PA (public address - read BIG SPEAKERS) system behind the door.

I wander in, A and a rather hefty looking biker/crusty geezer (black leather, metal piercings everywhere) are setting stuff up. A's room is now stripped pretty much bare, bed frame against the wall, mattress up against the window (we're planning on dampening some of the noise), decks and amp in the corner, cardboard and duck tape on the floor covering the trailing wires. UV lights in the kitchen.

I help them setup for a few minutes then leave. Like any sane individual with the prospect of a rave, possible ensuing brouhaha with the local constabulary, not being able to sleep due to excessive noise, etc. my first reaction is to get out of there.

I go round the girlfriends and with her flat mates we go score get some goodies for the ensuing mayhem (well I ain't dealing with it sober).

The evening arrives and we get to the club, some DJ is playing hard techno (I can't remember who was on that night but it tended to be the likes of Dave Clarke/ Luke Slater/ David Holmes. The music isn't really my bag, it needs to be more acid for my liking (like the chemistry in my head at this point). I retire home, via the curry shop. I fancy eating something and getting a little lie down before the madness kicks off.

I turn up at the flat, surprisingly I get in through the front door this time. I go to the kitchen to eat my chicken bhuna and walk into a new age traveler.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" He asks.
"I live here, who the bloody hell are you and what are you doing in my kitchen." I ask.
"Oh I'm Leaf." He tells me.
Hippy parents I think, then I notice a bottle of Tequila in his hands, bar optic on.
"What's that?" I ask.
"Oh I'm planning to sell shots for £1 a go, but since you live here you can have your first one for free."
I wonder whether or not this amount of generosity and impertinence should land him on the pavement outside with a bloody nose and the bottle over his head but given that my kitchen is bathed in UV light, someone has attached Tampax by their strings above one of the doors and the walls seem to be moving - I decide I'm really not in the mood, so decline.
"I'm off for a lie down." I sulk off to eat my curry and try to rest.

A few hours pass and people start to arrive.
"Who are all these people? Did you invite everyone?" I ask A.
"Errr, he he - yeah I think so."

The club has a capacity of 600 people, our three bed flat is now rammed to the rafters with people still turning up and trying to get in!

A tells me:
"Make sure no one touches my bike, I'm off to G's." [This is a somewhat run down 250cc motorbike, sat in our hallway, in several pieces.]

Great, he's off to the girlfriends. It also transpires that the instigator of our evenings soire didn't even make it to the club - he was so trashed he passed out on a sofa beforehand.

My boss at the time turns up (he's a c**t), sits in my room and starts chopping up lines of snow on the sleeve of my favourite record, without asking. Then doesn't hand it round except to his little cling on bitches.

A's room is a sweat pit, techno is blaring out of the speakers and given the number of pilled up monkeys jumping around the walls are literally dripping with sweat/condensation. This proves too much for the amplifier and it promptly blows as the moisture gets into it.

"No worries, I've got a spare." Says one of the free-party sound system guys.
F**k, I'm never going to get to sleep I think...

The same fate hits the second amp but it blows the fuses in the house.
Silence, darkness.
Someone scrabbles around and starts sorting the fuse box.

A loud knocking comes from the front door. P answers it -
"It's the Police, they're looking for a resident." he tells me.
"I ain't here I tell him."
200 dilated eyes peer at the Police from the darkness, no one says anything, there is an eiery silence.
"Can you keep the noise down" the PC asks, perplexed at the bizarreness confronting him.
"No problems" P tells the Police, they leave.

Suddenly some Schemo [Scottish Council Housing Scheme version of a chav] wanders up to me:
"Wanna bey anni eyyz?" he asks, showing me some rather dubious grey/white flecked pills he's carrying in a match box.

"No mate." This is getting too much I think, getting offered drugs in my own bedroom by some chav git I don't know, sod it - I leave, giving S the key to my room, she's wasted and want's to sleep there.

So as I was saying, tonight... party down Bermondsey anyone?

Toilet Attendants...

2005-03-03T13:18:00.000Z

What the hell is it with London,

why on Earth would I require a man of (usually) Nigerian origin to stand in the toilets, watch me take a piss, turn on the tap for me and hand me a paper towel?

I must confess I try and talk to these guys - well they've got a pretty crappy job and to be honest if I'm expected to pay £1 for the privalege I at least want some conversation!

Window Shopping by Photography...

2005-03-02T17:48:00.000Z

I've started to notice this a lot recently,
perpetrated all around Soho and probably further a field...

People taking photographs of window displays and/or into shops.

I just don't feckin get it?

Twice today, two separate incidents I noticed it happening.

Who are these people, they don't look like tourists (although sometimes the tourists do take shots of the big department store windows).

Are they some kind of plagiaristic window dressers?
Are they some kind of imagination-less glossy mag-hag 'style gurus'?
Are they paparazzi taking photos of the famous shopping? Probably not, the lenses aren't big enough.
Are they mentally unstable?

I just don't know... but I shall endeavor to find out.

Unfortunately the Government of this land made stalking illegal some time ago, which means going for a semi-random trip under a complete strangers unwitting guidance is now a sport no longer legally practiced in this country.

Still, I'm armed with a digital camera and shall hunt my quarry mercilessly, itchy trigger finger at the ready. It is still perfectly legal to photograph people in public in the UK without their consent.

That should put the wind up their sails, let’s see if I can't illicit some kind of verbal response from them...

I hate commuting

2005-02-24T14:01:00.000Z

Imagine this scenario - you live roughly three miles from your work and travel to work via train. How long does this take?

Sounds like a maths question.

Other factors for your calculation - it's Wedensday, it's raining, there has been a little snow, your using the underground, your journey starts at 8.10am.

Bonus marks for calculating how much you paid Ken "I have the city by it's nuts" Livingston for the privilege.

Answer - an hour and a half.

I used to travel from Brighouse to Ossett (approximately 14 miles) in half an hour, even if I took the M62 past Leeds in the morning. I mean, between Huddersfield (J24) and Leeds (J27) going East it looks like the Northern cousin of the M25 (Britain's first orbital car park). That used to piss me off then as without the traffic I could do it in about 15 minutes, even in a beat up Fiesta van.

Sod it,
sod Ken,
I'm buying some hiking boots.
(or maybe a bike.)

Random Pub Violence, Sex and Exposure to Electronic Noises

2005-02-23T12:47:00.000Z

Sorry for the lack of updates, I've been busy...

Friday night I was out in Soho, round some of the bars then went to Ben Crouches (other side of Oxford Street) to meet my flatmate M for a bit before heading to the Cresent in Mornington Cresent to meet up with C.

The Cresent was fun - on arrival I gave the doorman a casual greeting "Alright Mate" I intoned.
"Are you alright?" he quizzed me, standing square in the doorway of the pub.
"Errr, yeah. I'm fine, just here to meet my girlfriend." I replied.
He shuffled aside.
"Muppet" I thought.

10 minutes later and a bar brawl errupts in the place, random guys jumping on and pulling each other off one another. Glasses being thrown, chairs being swung around.

Class, I think, this is entertainment money can't buy. Fond recollections of the Northern shite-holes I used to frequent come flooding back. C and some of her work chums are looking a bit concerned/frightened by proceedings but we're tucked in the corner so well out of the action.

I notice Mr "Are You Alright Mate?" is cowering in the opposite corner, obviously only paid enough to hassle customers entering the premisis not do anything about violent drunken behaviour inside.

Things calm down... then spark up again, then calm for a bit.
Suddenly one guy decided to liven up the proceedings by running round the back and lamping some guy on the chin from behind.

The guy goes down, out for the count.

Suddenly the staff start to take things a little more seriously, the girl from behind the bar starts running round, telling people to finish there drinks and leave.
I ask her if she's called for an ambulance and the police.
"Errr, yes. You should drink up and leave before the police come otherwise you'll have to answer some questions."
I know she's lying, they're far too concerned about keeping their license and are trying to usher us out the door.
"I don't mind answering some questions" I tell her, increasing her already heightend sense of panic.

We leave a little later anyhow and after a random detour to a gay bar (one of C's mates is 'in that camp') for one last drink me and C head back to mine for 'a little lie down' ;-) Thankfully M is drunk and passes out so we don't keep him up all night with our shenanigans!

Saturday, after walking C to the station and saying our goodbyes I wander home, everyone else is out - M left to see his cousin and G is a dirty little stopout. I watch some crap TV, make some electronic noises, watch some porn and make more noises again - all whilst smelling paint fumes as the hallway of our flats is being repainted.

G returns about 9, we get some drinks in and watch TV while she tells me about her love life (she has 2 suitours - one is 20+ years older than her, a complete womaniser and has a girlfriend, the other is a couple of years younger and seems like a nice guy. Guess which one her affections lie with... women, I can't figure them out!!!)

Sunday I stay in bed till 7pm. Nothing exciting happens.

Monday and Tuesday I'm in Brighton with a works conference. We see the sea, it snows, we get drunk and learn technical things.

Tuesday night I get home and after making myself bacon, pasta & pesto with a hint of lime, garlic, spring onions and tomato (these are the edible objects I have lying around) I realise that television in the UK is shite.

I make some more electronic noises, actually this is starting to sound good. CLICK HERE to download a snippet - Urban pHox, Bass of Bermondsey I'm definately going on a tech-house vibe...

The Future is Tech House

2005-02-18T16:58:00.001Z

Musical ranting mode on...

Having for years (like since '89) been into techno I really dispair at what passes for techno these days - mindless pounding distorted noise, arrrrggggh!!!

I like some trance stuff but psy-trance is too stale and samey,
commercial trance is just too cheesy with all those uplifting chords,
drum and bass has gone all noise too, so what's a man to do?
House is sometimes OK but thoughts of Pascha types just makes me cringe.

Styles I like...

Progressive House/Techno

and my new favourite...

Tech-House
defn: a style of music with element of both techno and house which falls into neither category. BPM approx. 126ish

Check out:-
Drug is the Love by Ravi McArthur for what I'm trying to get at. (He's a South London geezer so I might be able to see him on the decks if I find where he plays)

For other clips try:
HARD TO FIND RECORDS, NEW TECH HOUSE LISTINGS.

Robot waitress fetish

2005-02-18T11:12:00.000Z

I'm looking for something, I just don't know what...

The problem with London is just it's a man made concrete space. Even the odd bits of green are complete artificial. I guess I'm seeking some kind of spirituality or spiritual place. Not easy in this city, especially difficult as I'm a self confessed Humanist. This means though that I don't meet with other Humanists as all they tend to go on about is being castigated as a minority and reasons why there is no God - I already know this but would rather try and do something to help those less fortunate in the world.

I searched the web and found some stuff on Naturalism (not Naturism) - it involves trying to reach enlightenment and understanding of the world through evidence, science and critical thinking (apparently) - where as the later seems to involve playing tennis with a lack of proper genital support (funny how they never seem to play squash).

Still if you want to run around naked, don't let me stop you.

Anyhow, seeing as my little witch friend Karen from Bradford has got me a bit more interest in Paganist things, going drumming on Beltane in the woods, etc. this sort of appeals to me a bit more.

Due to this I was planning to go and visit Stonehenge for the Winter Solstice (summer is full of crusties and winter is when the sun sets behind the alter and makes more sense for a Pagan farming people who would make offerings to the sun to aid its return to bless the land on the darkest day). My plan was simple, get in the van, turn up, rush the security just before sunset, get to the alter and ask the great fusion reactor in the sky to return with its magnificent radiation at the soonest point and offer up the last of my organic homemade melomel (honey, organic homegrown raspberries and gooseberries, brewed into a potent mixture - 20% ABV) in a pseudo-neo-pagan style.

Anyhow I didn't make it, next time I will although there's a much more impressive, less well known standing stone circle not far from the 'Henge and probably less crowded so I shall attempt that next time...

But that doesn't help me now, I'm looking for a spiritual site, in London, which doesn't involve major organised religion (or even minor ones) so once again I'm searching the web for things near me when I come across...

Cynthia's Cyber Bar - I've seen the site before, it's supposedly a bar with robot barman/maid/droid. Not far from my gaff so I thought I might give it a go, enlightenment (or at least alcohol) can be had in many places, I guessed the moment of clarity could arise in a techno vein...

Anyhow checking the site it's now apparently called Wicked and is a fetish venue?!? Still it might be entertaining to go sometime - enlightenment probability = 0%, naked people probability = 50+%, especially on the 'topless night'.

To do list...

2005-02-17T11:27:00.000Z

I write to many to do lists and never get around to finishing (or starting) them, here is my current plan of action...

1) Go to the gym after work. I have my kit with me so no excuses.
2) Cancel my van insurance, sort out the SORN and send the log book to my brother. The van is currently parked in my dad's field so I'm not going to be driving it around London much.
3) Sort out my TV license. I'm currently paying for it at my previous address.
4) Write an album. I have the equipment, I just need the inspiration. OK I could do with a new computer but no excuses...
5) Start my own company.

1st World Debt Relief

2005-02-16T12:22:00.000Z

Cancel the debt!

Dear financial organisations, my debts are insignificant to those of international countries, please forget about them and let me spend my earnings...

I have, in my time, amounted over £20,000 of debt. Currently though my figures are looking alot better as within 6 months I will be a debt free individual once again!

I intend to have a seriously expensive party to celebrate my balances reaching zero. No, scratch that... I intend to have a 'within budget' party to celebrate that point. Six years ago I set myself the challenge of being a millionare by the time I was thirty, somewhere down the line between then and now things f**ked up as being in the black is now the achievable goal* - as long as I don't do anything majorly stupid like book a holiday to the Caymen Islands between now and then.

* = Actually I'm probably there now anyhow but some of my cash is tied up in long-term investments and on save for a rainy day.

Where the hell did I go wrong?

I think that was my 'mid-life' crisis, well probably more like my 'mid-twenties' crisis but I was trying to get the mid-life sports car phase out of the way early.

I'd split from my serious girlfriend of four years. Things hadn't been going well for a long time due to several factors - she was agrophobic, so nights out were always fun. She suffered from major female insecurity - i.e. thinking she was ugly even though she was a stunner. She never seemed to be in 'the mood' and in the four years we were together she'd told me she loved me all of three times. Add to that the fact that at one point she'd called me by another guys name during the heat of the moment and well... some things just have to end.

So to cheer myself up and attempt to get the whole 'fast car' thing out of my system. I went to the bank, got a HUGE loan and headed off to the nearest retailler of 200bhp Japanese sports cars - bollox, won't be doing that again for a while. Still I loved that car, we travelled the length of the country together, she never let me down and was always up for it when you fancied some poke - although she did have a bit of a turbo lag.

A few words of caution people -
1) They say "Your insurance premiums will fall dramatically when your 25+". Bollox, half the insurer I talked to wouldn't insure me on that motor until I was over 30, mind you it was insurance group 17 (out of 20). My annual premiums were approx £1500->£2000 and that was insignificant compared to how much fuel I had to put in it, given the governments 800% fuel duty.

2) Don't ever buy something on credit. You can't afford it and unless it's something which will appreciate over time (i.e. a house) don't even think about it.

3) Never "go out" with an agrophobic.

4) British roads are not designed for 200bhp, turbo charged, front engined, rear wheel drive cars WITH NO TRACTION CONTROL. I had some seriously heart stopping moments as she got a mind of her own and thought that "Doing a dougnut now would really be fun!"

Other things I have spent money I don't have on include...

Alot of beer and food - that was my student loan, now thankfully repaid.
Holidays - to Spain and Finland snowboarding and to Dublin and Amsterdam with the ex.
Music Equipment - a sampler and a synthesizer.
CDs, Clothes and other lifestyle tat - credit cards, nooooo.
Fuel - that was the car (again!)

Addictions, Obsessions and Yearnings

2005-02-15T13:34:00.000Z

Addictions

1) Cigarettes
The most addictive substance I've ever tried (and my god I've tried some), this is currently the addiction I'm trying to give up.

2) Alcohol
I drink far too much, too often to be healthy. I left Scotland as I was becoming an alcoholic and returned to Yorkshire this worked but I ended up smoking cannabis daily for 5 years and by the end was drinking at least a bottle of wine a night as well.

3) Plastic Surgery
I believe that this is more addictive than anything else I've tried. I've done it once and I absolutely loved it! I intend to have more, when I figure out what parts of me I don't like/would like augmenting.

4) Sex
The dirtier and kinkier the better, I just can't get enough!

Yearnings

1) LSD
I haven't had a good acid trip in ages and am absolutely gagging. FREAKY - my mobile just rang and it was my flatmate M, he's working in Camden today and asked if I wanted him to pick me up some mushies... wooohooo. Not as good as a microdot, or English natural ones but hey, I ain't going to knock it!

2) Skunk
I never really got into ganja at uni, late developer I guess but I became a major weed freak when I was back in Yorkshire which to my mind has cheaper and better quality green than Amsterdam. Especially if you make your own! I really yearn for a good session of Couch Lock playing Tony Hawkes on my PS2. I gave up in a health stint about 9 months ago and have only had the odd one since then.

3) A Good Shake
OK so I was out dancing around on Friday but I miss a regular bounce, there's plenty of clubs in London so I should get out more, I just need some more mad mates on my level. I used to also do Salsa and Capoeira as well.

4) Acid (music)
Anyone else out there into acid house, acid techno or similar? I just can't get enough of Rolands squeeky little TB303 bleep machine, I own far too many acid records, I don't know any clubs that play this kind of music or anyone else round these parts into it. I guess I should buy one, I have a clone and an MC202. Get in touch acid fans!!!

Some days you just don't want to get out of bed...

2005-02-15T09:56:00.000Z

In fact in my life (which usually involves not sleeping till late) that's pretty much everyday!

This morning was a bit different though as C was next to me, giving me something warm, soft and large breasted to cling on to / play with! [Even though I usually don't go for anything larger than a C-cup I'm getting used to large mammaries of late.]

We met up last night at Embankment, C is looking as radiant as ever we go to some tiny, smokey old pub that just sells wine and gin. We couldn't find anywhere to sit so stood against the wall and accidentally spilt a bit of red wine on the shelf space we had for our glasses, which got us some glares of some (rather unattractive) Kiwi bitches who were sat next to us. Well actually 2 of the 3 were OK (not looking, in attitude) but one of them just gave us evils for it.

Anyhow, ignore the feckers...

So one bottle of house red in we move on to the next bar, on the other side of Embankment, near the Hungerford bridge and get a couple of beers in and swap cards, gifts to be opened later.

Then we head towards mine, walking over the bridge hand in hand (god I'm turning into a right saddo!) and after a fair few public displays of affection on the tube - full on snogs, grinding into her against walls, arse grabbing on the escalators [she started it!], etc. we finally make it to London Bridge, almost home...

We stop at the pub halfway down the street for a quick half and exchange gifts - I got some Vodka chocolates and some massage oil from C and she seems very intriged and excited by the underwear/blindfold/silk ties/feather tickler combination I got her. Thank god, I'm sure she's as kinky as me deep down inside, this is going to be fun finding out!!! She likes the undies, I explain I wasn't sure whether or not she'd have liked the basque/suspender set and she says "Well that's up to you." Oh my, just wait till next time girl...

So we make our way back to mine, grabbing a bottle of white and some Baileys ice cream from the corner shop.

My flatmate M is in, cooking (well warming oven chips, bacon and tinned spagetti) but seems to have taken over the entire kitchen and seems determined not to let us have any time together...

Not to worry, I'm cooking anyhow so first things first I open the second bottle of wine (White Zinfandel Blush) and I start preparing the food - chopping the chicken, ginger, garlic, chillies, spring onions, green pepper, limes, baby carrots and baby sweetcorn. Coconut milk is opened and ready and the rice is on! [The key to making a good stirfry is preparation.]
Anyhow, by the time I've got the food cooked and we've eaten M has disappeared into his room (although he keeps popping out!) so we retire to my room for the evening...

She's down to brass tacks before the doors even closed, I quickly shut the door and throw on the nearest CD to hand - Blue Six (check it people!) which is a great: slow house, not too fast or slow and the deep thumping bass throbbing from my studio monitors - should cover up a multitude of sinful bedroom noises!

I so miss having my own house (which I had for 5 years) - I could get up, get down and get dirty anywhere, anytime. I still have visions of H, wearing nothing but her black boots, bent over hanging onto the mantle piece...

Anyhow, we get down to business...
[This part I'm leaving to your imagination - think bump, grind, tie, tease, suck, squeeze and other juicyness!]

After less than an hour or so we're both satisfied - I'm slowly getting to realise the signs for C (still can't actually figure the exact point of though!) - she's a flushed chest kind of a girl in the heat of the moment! ;-)

I can tell how long this took as the CD is still (barely) playing, which is great as the first time I thought she'd never get to the point (took over 2 hours!!!), luckily, (especially for my friction burn knees) she did though [I have finished relationships with girls because of that fact, usually it's caused (so I have found) by them being on anti-depressants (blockers) - no matter how many times they tell you they still enjoy it I just don't think it's the same level of 'mutual pleasure'.

Anyhow, we stop for a while, cuddle, snog, open the third bottle of wine and take a short break...

I now appears that my other flatmate (G) has returned, actually I'd heard this earlier but was otherwise engaged! She (even though Australian) seems to have a little more about her when it comes to privacy, etc. and has dragged my other flat mate into the living room downstairs to give us some space - thank god!

Anyhow we drink some more wine, C starts parading around in her new pink & black undies, I switch on my techno toys to show C (she asked) and try to explain which thing is doing what, let her twiddle with my knobs, pull my sliders and watch the resultant flashing before we hit the sack (for the second time).

Blue Six gets a second airing, we attempt some new positions (mainly due to lack of energy and currently positioned intertwining limbs - it's good though) and aftwards we drift off to sleep...

The morning comes and we jump in the shower (together!) although being particularly girly she doesn't want to get her hair wet so after a bit of soapy fun we set off, hand in hand to the station and work...

Valentines day...

2005-02-14T10:04:00.000Z

So it's Valentines...

I have the ingredients for a meal in the fridge plus a bottle of White Zinfandel Rose and some strawberries.
A card, some pink and black lacy bra and g-string combo (not too tarty) for C and a cheeky little blindfold / silk ties / feather tickler combination - cheesy I know, but it could well be fun.

Unfortunately my flat mates will be in, oh how I miss having my own place - should have booked a hotel room for the evening or something. GET A ROOM as the saying goes!

So what's been happening in my mad life...

Friday - after work drinks were in order in a bar off Carnaby Street. It was one of my work buddies birthdays so we headed there for a bit. After several rounds we came up with the plan of visiting the Arches club, near London Bridge and off myself, birthday boy and student placement boy trotted...

Planet Angel @ The Arches - on arrival we met up with another guy from my work. I was slightly preturbed that the average age of the occupants of the club was about 19 and the sound system was blaring out somewhat cheesy rave music. I felt like I was in a school disco, surrounded by barely adult people whose parents most certainly didn't know that they were here, shaking around with disco biscuits in their tummies.

God I must be getting old - I've never experienced that feeling before!

Well, if you can't beat em, join em and show them what an old boy can do...

One Bob Mill and a few drinks later suddenly I didn't feel the age gap anymore, we wandered around, danced a bit, got covered in flourescent orange face paint, bounced around some more and talked complete rubbish to utter strangers. Fantastic.

We even discovered that the club had thoughtfully provided Lego for the entertainment of the guests, so I attempted to build a little house but gave up. Everyone else seemed to be building drag cars or space ships?!?Click for Lego Porn.

Around 6am (it didn't feel it, somewhere I'd lost track of time) we headed back to mine for a cuppa before the guys set off back home on the first tube.

Saturday was a pretty much none event, I surfaced around 2pm the after effects of the evening before clearly affecting my psyche and headed into town to get C's gift undies. Oxford Street was a mass of tourists and shoppers jostling for position so I headed to where I thought Agent Provocateur was but in my daze couldn't find it. Arse... walked past the market, picked up some strawberries and headed for La Senza on Oxford Street. The place was packed to the roof with shoppers and underwear, I contemplated buying her a basque but having not seen her complete array of undies decided this could wait for another time. I decided on the pink and black combo - no too cheesy or tarty. I really wanted to get the basque and suspenders set but no... later!

I headed home, fighting my way onto the packed tubes was a nightmare...

Messed with my new synth for a bit, creating some new funky sounds and pushed my psy-trance/techno track forward a bit before watching Wicker Park (very strange) and Colateral with my flatmates.

Sunday - About the most exciting thing I did on Sunday was go to Tescos.

Things that go bleep in the night...

2005-02-11T10:32:00.000Z

Well I was feeling pretty lousy yesterday at work so I took the afternoon off - after spending most of the morning pretending to work and messing with my Laurent Garnier remix competition entry for The Cloud Making Machine. Thanks to the boys & girls on Blackout Audio for spotting that one.

So what to do on a rainy afternoon in London...

Well I went and bought a shiny little silver synth (with lots of flashing red lights) - I spent a shade over 200 notes on a Novation K-station and spent the afternoon and evening twiddling with my knobs then, feeling decadent, I decided to order a pizza (sorry for going on about food Marc!) from Pizza Cucina - they even do a wild boar with stewed pear pizza, bottles of champagne, chianti, beers, sorbet, etc. and deliver!!! - they are a bit pricey though!

Well back to work, had a strange text of my ex's friend this morning which read:
"Hey P, It's J. U bk down in London? How r u?"

Phishing - is the name of a scam relating to fraudsters using similar named URLs to those of banks or other institues. This is Phishing of a different kind I believe...

Man Flu

2005-02-10T09:28:00.000Z

Uggggh, I'm feeling all achey, I spent all of yesterday in bed till 5.15pm then got up and went to see C.

She's had a sore throat as well so we were a right pair.
After a day in bed dehydrating and not eating I'd lost 1/2 a stone (not good) but at least my nose had stopped running.

So I went over to C's and she perked me up no end, rubbing all my achey bits. She wasn't ready by the time I arrived (was still in the shower) but I don't mind a girl hot, wet and flushed looking au-naturel. Anyhow she never got round to making the chicken fajitas but we ended up with a few ham and cheese toasties in bed later on.

Came into work today with her from Norbury, still not feeling 100% but I'm getting there, I have no idea why my back muscles are aching from the flu - guess I could look it up on the internet...

Well it looks like she's coming round to mine for Valentines, I'll be cooking Thai green chicken curry, we'll have a bit of wine, a snog and the rest! I now know her measurements too so I can go and buy her some fancy underwear, hope she likes it!

PANCAKE DAY!

2005-02-08T14:07:00.000Z

It's pancake day... time to get my chef's hat on and get mixing...

Pancake ingredients...
Eggs,
Milk,
Plain flour.

Break eggs into bowl, whisk a little, add some milk then sieve flour in and keep beating/stiring until it forms a thickish batter. Add more milk/flour as required to get the correct consistency - not too thick, not too runny.

Some people then 'rest' the mixture in the fridge for a bit before cooking

Incidentally that's also the way to make Yorkshire Puddings - all that's different with the Yorkies is that you pour the mixture into deep, preheated bun tins which have been greased with a little lard first then throw em in a hot oven until golden brown.

I'm going to give it a try tonight.

I also have honey and lemon for the pancakes, yummy. Not for the Yorkies - they go better with beef and gravy.

What else...

Oh I didn't get to see C last night, she was looking after one of her friends who has been diagnosed with the big C! Oh she's so caring, it's wonderful - not like the last girlfriend who was staying in Brisbane with one of her mother in laws friends who went into hospital for a knee operation and she never bothered visiting her, even though she was staying in her house! Now that's thoughtfulness. Still she was a completely dizzy bitch, I can't believe I fell for her, must have been physical... can't think of any other reason.

Anyhow I'm a happy man now, full heart and tonight a full belly!!!

Off to the gym tomorrow then to see C for the evening, apparently she's cooking dinner for me so this should be exciting!

Tek-no Notice

2005-02-07T18:39:00.000Z

OK,

I texted C today and it looks like we're not doing the Venice thing just yet - she thought it was funny though but said to hold off to her birthday.

I had to bring it up again though, you see - even though I was drunk when I said it, being a a Yorkshireman means I have this sort of in built truthfulness switch - if I say it I mean it (although sometimes it's just my opinion at the time). Sometimes that backfires, especially when trying to make a joke, especially if your girlfriend at the time happens to have low self esteem [that'll be 99%, STOP READING FASHION MAGS, THEY'RE NOT REAL!] and has just asked you if her arse looks big...

Anyhow, we'll be waiting a little while till the weekend away so I'd better stick my cunning hat on and make other preparations for next Monday (Valentines!). I think she was impressed by the overblown romantic gesture though - that and the fact that I'm not shy when it comes to being a cunning linguist [bad old joke but I ain't going to explain it if your too young/stupid to work that one out]. Hell, you have to make sure a girl enjoys herself too - mind you I may have some making up to do with my poor flatmate in the next room, I don't think he got much sleep on Friday night/Saturday morning/afternoon. Damn those paper thin walls.

Right, what can I do for her on V-day?
I'm thinking cooking a meal for her, something simple and delicious.
A bit of wine, candle light, massage...

I should buy her something too - I know the underwear thing is a bit trad but well, better ideas anyone? Cuddly toy? Christ I have no idea when it comes to what women want...

After another lunchtime in Turnkey I now know what I want (a prezzie for me, to me, by me) - a Novation K-Station, funky little synth. OK I already have far too many techno toys but, it's soooooooo cute...

2005-02-07T12:12:00.000Z

Well what a weekend...

Friday night - went for a few beers with the guys from work then headed up to Mornington Cresent to meet C and her work chums (for the first time) before heading back into town. Had a couple of cocktails in the Lab then headed home where me and C managed to keep my flatmates awake for a couple of hours due to our shinanigans...

Well it's official now as I asked her, we are boyfriend and girlfriend - woohooo!!!

Actually I remember (when drunk) promising to take her to Venice for Valentines or around then - better get that booked!

Saturday afternoon, after finally getting up I walked C to London Bridge station and we said our fond farewells... for now!

That evening myself and one of my flatmates headed up to Vibe bar on Mile End road to meet some of my work buds, unfortunately I didn't get chance to have a curry. The bar/club was pretty cool although the main room was actually red hot - we ended up dancing like nutters with some mad friends (a mental Japanese girl who always bounces around like a kid on tartrazine) from my work till 1am. The music was quite housey although it went a bit disco towards then end and they were playing reggae in the chill room at the end of the night.

Anyhow me and M headed home, via the kebab shop and off-license (which is open till 4am) before crashing out.

Sunday was spent chilling infront of the TV...

The Golden Ratio

2005-02-04T15:11:00.000Z

OK nothing much has happened since last time so here's a random posting about bits of maths I like...

The Golden Ratio (Greek symbol Phi)

Phi is a number much like Pi, except it's roughly 1.618..., not 3.17...

It is defined as the ratio of a line divided in 2 parts when the ratio of the size of the smaller section to the larger section is the same as the ratio of the larger portion to the whole length of the line.

The ratio between the long and short sides of a pentogram.

It is also the solution to x squared = x + 1

It is the ratio of the height of a man and the height of his navel and various other subdivisions on the human form - the lengths of the joints of your fingers, etc. I think that's got something to do with the ratio at which human cells divide.

Take any 2 neighbouring Fibonacci sequence numbers and the ratio between them is roughly the golden ratio, the bigger the values of the numbers the closer they become to the golden ratio!

As yet I have not managed to find a practical use for it (other than making images which are pleasing to the human eye.

Sine

OK you probably remember sine from trigonometry at school.

Sine is the ratio of the height of the opposite to the hypotenuse for a right angle triangle.

But sine has many other useful properties...

If you take a series of numbers say 0 to 2 * Pi (for radians) or 0 to 360 (for degrees) and plot the results as x = sine(number) and y = cosine(number) you will have drawn a circle.

Circles (or spheres which are just 3-dimensional forms of circles) are fundemental to the universe - the shape of planets, the shape of a planets orbit, the shape of an electrons orbit around the nucleus.

Sine waves are also quite pleasing on the ear.

Any audio signal can be theoretially broken down into a number of sinosoidal waveforms.

Sine is a handy mathematical function - especially when programming, I like it.

The Weekend Is Coming...

2005-02-03T17:59:00.000Z

I spent this lunchtime salivating over techno-porn in Turnkey All I need now is the stupid bravadery that comes after 2 pints when armed with a credit card in a synthesizer shop and I'll be bleeping to kingdom come...

Well it looks like the weekend is almost upon us again!

So what are my plans?

Tonight I'm going to go and join the gym, and try to loose this excess London weight. The first half stone fell off but there's still at least another stone to loose before I get back to 'pre-London' levels, this is going to be a hard slog but once you get into it the endorphins kick in and it makes you feel good.

Friday night I'm meeting C again, we were texting all of yesterday so thankfully I don't have to wait until Monday to get to see her again, can I get to the next base? We'll see...

Saturday it looks like I might be in Vibe with some work buddies. It's down Brick Lane (which is almost as famous as Bradford for its curries) - oh I haven't had a curry in ages, I'm missing the delights of Akbars, Mumtaz and Abdul's.

Mmmmmm - better make it a double stint in the gym then!

Where Is It All Going?

2005-02-02T12:04:00.000Z

Last night I met up with my flatmate G for some drinks after work and we spent a good few hours downing Stellas and talking about the ins and outs of the human auditory system (she's an audologist and I work in audio), brain function/layout and relationships between me texting C.

Unfortunately it doesn't look like I'm going to get to see C again as soon as I like.
:-(
Cue paranoia - is she running two seperate lives? Does she have someone else on the go?

No, actually I don't think so, especially given the texts - it seems that shes worried that I'm in this relationship for one thing only which is so far from the truth. I hope I've put her mind at rest.
I know I've been like that before, a dog with 2 dicks as the saying goes - but not anymore.

These days I wouldn't even bother going for a second date with a girl if I didn't think she had the potential for a long-term relationship and at 29 years old time is running out, so I have a long list of potential partner criteria - something thus...

1) Do I find her physically attractive.
Shallow I know but you need to be attracted to someone if things are ever going to work.
2) Is she intelligent and engaging in conversation.
Looks only last so long, will I still be able to talk to her about things when I'm 70.
3) Is she sane.
OK, this is a relative term but as long as she's at least half on the same planet, not prone to violent outbursts or psychotic episodes we're getting there.
4) Would I consider marrying her.
This is a killer question and sort of encompasses all the rest.
5) Would I consider procreating with her.
Thats procreating, not just fornicating. It also involves questions such as the hypothetical - if we did have a little one(s), and something terrible happend to me - is she mentally strong enough to carry on without me.
6) Is she currently single, not hung up about an ex and ready for a relationship.

C is 6/6 - woohoo!!! There are also other criteria, not as important and bonus points but well - I'll leave those for another time...

Anyhow as I was saying somewhere around 10ish G gets a bit tipsy (4 or 5 Stellas later) and promptly throws up in the corner of the pub! This puts an end to the nights drinking so we retire home for the evening. Her minus some stomach lining, me with an extra glow in my heart (and a bigger mobile phone bill no doubt!).

One Week In...

2005-02-01T12:22:00.000Z

Well things are looking good, over a week into this relationship and feelings are still going strong... definately a keeper!

We spent last night chatting away then snogging and getting rather frisky in a pub, I'm sure the locals appricated the view, oh I feel like I'm 17 again, I even got that lower abdominal pain that, well, only men can experience if excited for prolonged periods of time, with no means of stress relief and whilst wearing constricting clothing!

6 Degrees of Seperation

2005-01-31T16:45:00.000Z

Friday I managed to find some new shoes and clothes - I spent £200 in a fit of fashion!

Saturday - the second date...
We'd decided on going to visit the Natural History Museum so I met C on the tube platform at Victoria and she's looking as hot as ever.
Thankfully I'm not overdressed for the occasion but feeling good in my new togs.

So we head to South Kensington and have a gander round the museum and a little chit chat whilst looking at displays ranging from dinosaur fossils to the human reproductive system.

After a few hours of cultural ponderings we decide to head for the pub...
A couple of drinks in and we're chatting about everything and anything ranging from porn videos to pilonidal sinuses and brain anyurisms! Not really first date material but hey - at least we're comfy talking about these things.

After a bit we move to the next watering hole where we get through a bottle of rose.

We're getting hungry now so we head towards Covent Garden for some food, hopping on the tube I notice a strangely familiar face a few seats down...

It's my ex - R. I smile and without thinking tell C then say, lets go say hello.
[This probably wasn't the wisest of ideas but it all turned out good]

Anyhow I say hello, do the introductions and R says...
"You haven't met [I forget the poor chaps name], he's my husband."

Bizarre!

So we exchange a few pleasantries (we haven't seen for at least 3 years - it was a rather brief relationship anyhow) and the girls get talking whilst I get to know her husband.

A few stops later and we part company, they're down to see some friends apparently.

Then we head for an Italian before yet more drinks, kissing, etc. I really think I'm falling for this girl, somebody stop me from spoiling it by going and saying something stupid like...

Finally it's the end of the night and I walk C to the nightbus and give her a big snog goodbye for the evening.

Walking home I get the beer munchies and stop at the 24hour Tescos for a quick sarnie then, for no apparent reason I decide that I want to sit on a wall and eat it...
Mistake.
My first attempt to mount the wall comes to nothing (it's shoulder height and stone) so I attemt again, backwards...
Overcompensating I get to the top, breifly rest my cheeks on the cold wall top before going arse over tit backwards and giving myself a nasty bump on my head.
I climb back down (luckily it wasn't as high on the other side), dust myself off then make my way home.

Before sleeping I manage to text and phone C (still on the night bus), drink some more beer with my flatmate M and his friends who are round (it was M's birthday) and decline the invitation to watch some hardcore on the DVD.

Anyhow I'm meeting C again tonight - woohoo, gotta dash...

Shopping

2005-01-28T14:16:00.000Z

Well it's pay day so seeing as I have a second date tomorrow I figured I'd go any buy myself some new clothes.

OK so finding things I like is a problem, especially in shoe shops. It seems the average British man has a foot size somewhat less than an 11. I finally find a pair of shoes I like the style of and either:
a) They don't have them in a eleven
or
b) The size elevens are a little tight and they certainly don't stock them in a size twelve!

I had that this lunch time in a shop, the female assistant seemed utterly shocked when I told her they were a bit tight and did they have them in a size 12. Like I'd just told her I'd committed an act of indecency on her mother/dog/gold fish/whatever.

I can't be alone in this problem, I mean sure they're big but not overly by modern standards I wouldn't have said?

I suppose I should count myself lucky - you know what they say about men with big feet...

...big hands!
Not that I go around measuring the size of various anatomical parts with those of the same sex, I wouldn't know, I really don't care - as long as I can find shoes that fit!

Anyhow - best try find some more after work, hope the shops are open late.

yes, yEs, YEs,YES!!!!!!

2005-01-25T12:29:00.000Z

Woooohoooo!

I think I've found the girl of my dreams, now I've just got to keep her!

I met her after work for a few beers, we had a great chat, drinks and finished up the evening with a great snog.

I must apologise for the lack of further details or ranting but my brain is experiencing some kind of chemical change, my pupils are dialated and now taiper to a point at the lower end, like a letter V and the top of my pupils have a little taiper in towards the centre so the top edge looks like a letter M.

M
V

Sorry I'm crap at ASCII art, but possibly your catching my drift. I'm floating on air, I feel like dancing, running down the streets doing cartwheels...

Oh happy day!

What Is Modern Art?

2005-01-24T16:07:00.000Z

Friday night I went out for a few toddies with the guys from work.
Well, actually we WENT for one, which then became 5+ in the Pitcher and Piano.

Beer Intake Multiplier

Anyhow I was starting to feel a little bunged up, sort of like a reverse cold by the end of the evening (usually it starts runny but this one started bunged).

Saturday saw me in the midst of a bout of man-flu*, that pretty much curtailed my weekend party plans.

* - Man-Flu = A cold whose symptoms include muscle pain and hence lots of moaning and groaning from it's male victims in the attempt to gain sympathy from his fellow humans. Women seem to dismiss its existance as they have never experienced it - much in the same way that men feel that period cramps are like eating too many baked beans.

I woke up late on Saturday, trying to give my body a head start on the healing process then managed to convince one of my flatmates to come to Tate Modern with me in the afternoon. I'd never been before, but as it's not far from my house and free, so I figured it would be a good way to waste a few hours.

So we walk around, looking at some pretenses towards painting/sculpture/video - christ, no wonder it's free - no one would pay to look at half this stuff.

The lobby has some kind of 'soundscape' thing going on - which is basically a lot of different speakers playing different short loops of human voices. It makes a kind of disturbing sound overall but to me appears utterly pointless. I've produced better results falling over on my sampler. Where is the interesting use of poly-rythmn, tonal difference, syncopation, spacial positioning???

Anyhow we wander around - with the exception of some Dali and other more notable older works it seems full of crap. I mean who on earth thinks that 15 * 10 foot canvases painted dark red with slightly lighter rough geometric shapes (like [ or ||) displayed in a darkened room is art? Or canvases painted almost black with slight textures on them? You'd have to be stupid or trying to kiss up to the modern/post-modern art worlds arse.

Bring back the old skool - Da Vinci et al - christ those boys knew art. The could paint/sculpt and image which spoke to the viewer expressing emotions of the human condition.

RANT OFF

Anyhow, we wander off to Tescos to do some shopping. I decide to cook dinner for my flat mates so we get the ingredients for a big green thai curry / stirfry then chill watching shite TV in the evening.

I spend Sunday sleeping then making sausage sandwiches and writing some psy-trance alternately.

Today -
I've got another date tonight (woohoo), a girl from Hull. This should be good - at least she's got half a chance of understanding my ridiculous accent. Fingers crossed.

Internet Dating (part 2)

2005-01-21T15:57:00.000Z

So London internet date 2 under my belt...

What was she like - we'll not like her description, that's for sure. Describing ones self as 'slim' is a relative term I guess... but to what? I mean I'm hardly Mr 6-pack myself but I think the scales would have tipped in her favour. Don't get me wrong I'm not a totally physically driven git searching for some perfect barbie bimbo (I had one before - my ex).

I have from time to time dated women outside of the 10-12-14 size range but I guess what got me was the fact that either (a) she believed this or (b) she felt that being dishonest would in someway aid her cause - this didn't bode well from the start.

Anyhow, we had a couple of drinks, a bit of a chat and then her flatmate phoned her, apparently ill so she made her excuses and did one. Mind you, at least it was short and sweet.

Anyhow, I headed home - stopped at my 'new' local for a couple of 'Wife Beaters' (Stella Artois) whilst chatting to the bar staff and watching the miserable life which was a rainy Thursday night on Tower Bridge road.

[A BELL RINGS]
Closing time, sod it I think... chinese, hell I've hardly eaten this evening. All I'd had was a chicken and veg pasty from the stall in the station eariler (I seem to frequent those places too much). I ask the woman serving what she recommends, she makes a few mental notes as she suggests various dishes then pointing to the vegetable dishes section says,
"Special Mixed Vegetables"

I look at the menu, half not believing what I see...

Special Mixed Vegatables £3.60
(With Chicken, Pork, Beef and Prawn)

I can't believe this, I know in the culture of British Chinese cuisine "Special" usually indicates mixed meats with the dish but I have never seen this before. I ask her whether it has meat (believing the text under the description to be a misprint). She informs me that I does,
I order,
I walk home,
I eat it -
It's FANTASTIC, the perfect end to a bizarre evening.

The Mysterious Lady with the Pink Suitcase...

2005-01-18T13:45:00.000Z

Well I went and met the girl from the internet, I'd met her on an internet dating site so off I went on Sunday to Croydon...

I was (fashionably) late, oh the joys of public transport. Thoughtfully though I phoned ahead to let her know.

So Croydon, sort of looks like a city in itself - quite a big place, lots of ugly 60s architecture including Nestles corperate HQ.

Well I met G (names removed for the protection of the innocent) and we ended up going to a bar and having a chat for a couple of hours about monkeys and other randomness. It was quite cool, I don't think much will come of it, there was little or no magical spark - shes a very nice girl though, oh well - at least I got to see Croydon and met someone new.

So after a couple of hours I set off home on the train to London Bridge.
Sitting on the train opposite me, although further down the carrige, I noticed a blonde with a pink suitcase. The train was packed with people with cases - maybe the line continues to the airport in the other direction? One woman had obviously caught the sun badly.

Anyhow - I noticed this particular woman, she noticed me and as I got up to leave the train she gave me a nice little smile, so I responded.
Then once I'd left the train and the station I was feeling kind of hungry so I went to the Cornish Pasty Kiosk by the exit near the London Dungeon. I ordered a Chicken and Veg Pasty, paid, turned around and there she was again - smiling at me once more!

I beamed one back but just walked past and kicked myself [not literally] - god, why the hell didn't I speak to her? Why didn't I offer to carry her case when I'd seen her before? Arse - mental note to self...

In future learn to capitalise on these situations.

Tha's been a-courtin' Mary Jane...

2005-01-13T15:02:00.000Z

The title of this blog entry is a reference to the lyrics of the song On Ilkley Moor baht 'at - which is a traditional Yorkshire song (about a guy courting a girl on the moors without his hat - check the link)

OK, sad, mad, trad, fad - internet dating, I'm back on it - I've been chatting to some lass [that's Yorkshire speak for girl] and I'm phoning her tonight and hopefully going to arrange a meetup over the weekend. I've got butterflies in my stomach but it's hopefully going to be fun, whatever happens.

TRY IT - YOU MIGHT LIKE IT.

The problem is it's been well over a year since I've been on a first date, I can't remember the protocol! I'm sure it'll all come flooding back, just like riding a (or the village) bicycle - once you learn you never forget. [NO READERS - I don't do that, not on a first date and especially not if alcohol is involved!]

BTW - Homebrew update: It's coming along nicely, the major yeasty action has subsided slighty and hopefully (if it settles and clears quickly) it should be ready for my flatmates birthday party in a couple of weeks.

Melomel 101... (or maybe SE1)

2005-01-11T15:57:00.000Z

OK readers, ever worried about the fact that alcohol manufacturers don't list their ingredients! (No? You should do!) Take my advice and make your own!

Last night myself and my Aussie flat mate started up my latest and greatest creation - Melon, Kiwi and Mango Melomel.
Melomel - a type of mead made with the addition of fruits other than grapes or apples.
Mead - alcoholic beaverage made from honey.

Thanks to the previous occupant of my flat who left a juicing machine, otherwise it would have involved a lot of arsing around with a blender and a sieve.

OK now the ingredients; I used the juice of...
1 large melon (the yellow, hard skinned variety)
2 large mangoes
4 kiwi fruits
2 lemons

Then I added...
1 jar of honey (450g, orange blossom)
Enough water to fill the container to one gallon (Imperial not U.S.)
1 packet of high alcohol wine yeast (will go to 21% ABV if enough sugar and nutrients present)

I woke up this morning to find those gorgeous little microbial yeasty beasties had started to work their magic - turning the sugars to alcohol and farting out carbon dioxide through the airlock, thankfully it wasn't too vigorous and hadn't frothed over - I'd placed it in the sink just incase though.

I shall keep you informed as to it's progress and effects when completed. The hydrometer read a potential alcohol of 15%!!!

Other News and Miscellanea

I have decided to take my random acts of kindness to the next level and am going to see about joining the Samaritans tomorrow. My god mum isn't too happy and keeps telling me to join some other voluntary service instead dealing with homeless people but I'd find it more cheery helping suicidal people than a bunch of homeless, alcoholic skag-heads [heroin addicts] (come on there's a benefit system in this country - no one should be homeless and hungry).

Monkeys Shouldn't Eat Leaves

2005-01-10T15:07:00.000Z

Well I'm 1/2 a stone down, 1/3rd of the way there but I'm hating all this salad malarky.

I went out with my new flatmates yesterday and we got severly drunk. I'm feeling the effects today and these leaves don't soak up alcohol in the same way a big juicy fry-up would.

I managed to bring all my studio gear down this weekend and space in my room has become a little limited. I think I'll need to rearrange it all tonight and make some noise!

I also brought my homebrew equipment so I'll be starting some Melon, Kiwi and Mango melomel (a fruit based mead) - fun, fun, fun!

All I need now is to find a female monkey to occupy my spare time...

Getting back into the swing...

2005-01-05T11:52:00.000Z

Sorry I've not posted for a while - I've been busy resting, eating too much drinking too much and falling over (ouch).

I visited my friends up home and saw the family, all are doing OK but my mum isn't very well at the mo.

I managed to spend New Years Eve in Wrexham, North Wales. At least that's where I think I was visiting some friends (I don't actually remember 12 o'clock). I managed to twist my ankle earlier in the night and can't really remember much after that. In the morning I woke and found some lipstick on my collar so it seems my shirt was luckier than me! Still it was probably just one of my girly friends I was out with.

I've managed to get into my new flat now and am starting to aclimatise to my new surroundings - doesn't feel like home yet but the beer compass is recalibrated and I'm starting to find my way around the area.

Well it's official - I'm a fat lardy ba**ard now. I've managed to gain 1.5 stones (20lbs for US readers, 9 kilos for metric types!) over the past two and a half months. No wonder I'm having problems with getting enough inertia to get off my ass and get fit again. It took me a over a year to get that off before, still I'm in the new flat so it's a new start, plus I'm back to cooking for myself so healthy food, getting back into regular exercise and cutting back on the lunchtime socials [TOO MANY RESTURANTS IN SOHO!] will get me back on form. Christ - the idea of salads is not very appealling though, especially with the variety on offer just a stones throw (14lbs, 6.36kilos) from my office is too tempting - indian, thai, chinese, japanese, korean, american, italian, jamaican...

Still - get sensible, slim down the waistline and fatten up the wallet!

White Christmas

2004-12-27T01:07:00.000Z

For anyone escaping London over Christmas - the perfect time is early on Christmas morning. The M1 was quiet, OK I tried to stop for a cuppa (tea) but the services were shut so I kept on rolling.

Once past Nottinghamshire I notices some bits of frost and what looked like snow on the distant hills.

By the time I got into Yorkshire there was snow around on the peaks and by the time I got to West Yorkshire it was all around and even started snowing for me a couple of miles from home.

Reality is Subjective

2004-12-25T00:36:00.000Z

Reality is subjective, we all live in our own bubbles, trying to see past the images on the inside, a weak reflection of reality.

The problem with other people but also the intriging and engaging thing, is that their actions are dictated by their own perceptions of existance.

Living in London I have to deal with this on a scale of 20,000,000 to 1. The problem comes when you realise that your in proximity to so many others, most of them you don't know, pretty much anything could happen. I'm sure it does, more than I can imagine all the time, around me.

BUT: conversley, as I can only be in one place at a time I'm only involved in 1 to 20,000,000 of it. I don't need to know everyone or be involved in their business - at least half of them I'd probably rather not be, the only person whose bubble that matters is mine.

Don't pop it ;-)

But I mean - seriously, I am in control. I can choose the places I frequent, the people I hang with and generally what happens in my existance. Alright - I'm no god but 99% of whats going to happen is predictable, within social norms, given your location and choice of companions but there is always the unquantified - the sometimes nasty, sometimes beautiful moments we experience.

Lab (Old Compton Street)

2004-12-23T14:10:00.000Z

OK - we left work for 'a few drinks', I was fully intending going to my new flat to meet G (who I still haven't crossed paths with).

So I dander to the bank, get out £40 and we head towards the Hogs Head. The first round (plus 3 bar snacks) manages to wipe out my cash. Anyhow, we're in rounds so it's not a problem.
£35+ =
2 beers,
1 white wine,
1 double vodka and cranberry juice,
1 double Jack Daniels and Coke,
1 steak sandwich,
1 chips and cheese,
1 chips and chilli

After we've had a few drinks I get chatting to the girls at the next table, I'd previously overheard one of them saying:
Quote: "Take his balls in your hand and stick his cock right down your throat."

At which point she realized she might have been talking a little loud, looked round and saw me looking shocked at her!

Anyhow I'm 2 lagers, 2 white wines and 1 black Sambuca in - confidence in full swing so I get chatting to them - seems there off to Australia too, I'm getting sick of all this everyone I'm talking to is Australian or going there and I cancelled my hols and really don't need constantly reminding!

Just as I start talking to them my colleagues decide it's time to go to 'the Lab' in Old Compton Street for one.

For those unaware of Soho streets, Old Compton Street is renowned as being (I shall try not to offend) - full of gay bars. Lab isn't too bad, it's quite a mixed crowd and the do cocktails, cocktails and more cocktails. All extremely nice, extremely pricey and they take credit cards!!!

So after a lot of drinks, shaking our cakes, trying our luck with the ladies and getting 'made up' by some girl with a makeup bag (I haven't quite figured that one out but at least I didn't end up with eye shadow on, just a star on my cheek) we decide its home time... or maybe, more likely, the bar stopped serving.

Anyhow - I have the keys to my new flat so head for home - my beer compass* needs slightly re-adjusting so I wander South, head over the Thames, marvel at the London Eye and head in the general direction of my new place. I get lost, hail a cab, ask him to take me to the wrong number but then correct myself and I'm there in no time.

* Beer Compass - in built homing device similar to pigeons which allows any person, no matter how inebriated to always find their way home.

I'm mullered by now, I turn up and the door is worryingly unlocked, I wander in and start trying to make some tea. I have no idea where anything is so but strangely there's nothing resembling a device for boiling water - there’s a couple of tea pots though. Anyhow I abandon my plans - a cup of tea would just push things too far on top of:
2 beers,
2 glasses of white wine,
1 Black Sambuca,
3 Raspberry Collins,
3+ (things get hazey around here) Caipirinhas,
1 bottle of Lucozade (I'd forgotten about that but the 24hours Tescos receipt I found in my pocket this morning told a different story.)

I go use the loo - my seal had been broken long before, I notice there's some scales so I weigh myself - get depressed, I've put on a stone in 2 months - but now is not the time to contemplate so I head for my room, someone left a duvet there so I crawl onto the new bed pull the duvet over me and sleep.

I awake in the morning and discover the previous occupant of the room has left me several other things:
1 plant pot with soil but no plant
1 large bowl
1 torn corner of a condom wrapper
1 small tin of Vaseline (my mind starts making connections it shouldn't)
1 4-Hero CD single

Anyhow I talk to M, who wakes a little later than me and head for work.

SE1, lets have some fun

2004-12-22T14:07:00.000Z

Well I now officially reside in SE1, 'South of the river' as the saying goes - which makes no sense - I have previously lived both North and South of:
(the ones that come to mind...)
1) The river Tay
2) The river Calder
3) The river Ouze

Still that's London - centre of the world don't chya kno.

I am still puzzled by several things in London though, especially (staying on the aquatic theme) chippies [or fish and chip shops to the uninitiated]

A) Why the hell does no one understand what a 'fish butty' or 'chip butty' refers to?
OK - the terminology varies from place to place 'butty', 'teacake' 'bap', 'balm cake', 'roll', but this is the only place in the British Isles where such a concept seems alien.
Granted - most of the staff are as fresh to these Isles as the fish they serve but even Londoners don't understand thus I feel I must give you a definition:

Butty, Balm Cake, Teacake, Roll, Bap A large soft white bread roll, in profile approximately 1.5inches [3.75cm] in height and 6inches diameter [15cm] usually being of a circular plan. Although specialist 'fish' style ones exist, being of a more rounded off rectangular profile - longer but narrower, approximately of similar mass and area.

Link to regional names of breads available in chip shops across this land.

Teacakes in Yorkshire I may add also come in the 'currant' variety although these are purchased in bakers and wouldn't be advisable for adding fish to (they are sweeter and have raisins in them) - they are for cutting in half, toasting then applying butter, jam or other sweet condiments to as your taste dictates.

B) Why do they leave the skin on one side of the fish fillet. Now I'm being picky I know, as this is quite a Yorkshire trait - to remove the fish skin entirely but I just find it freaky having this silvery grey skin visible through the semi-translucent batter.

On the subject of fish and chip shops they do vary across these islands somewhat - in Scotland you can buy things varying from 'A mock chop' (never brave enough to try one), 'A deep fried pizza', 'Battered Haggis', 'Red, white or black pudding' - battered obviously and 'Deep fried, battered Mars bars' [or any other chocolate bar].

In Yorkshire (and things vary from North to West to South) - a 'scallop' - a kind of giant circular-ish slice of potato, battered and deep fried - costs approx 25p.

Also you can get 'bits' up North - these are the tiny fragments of batter which have fallen off the fried fish, some skanky places will charge you for them but most will give you some free on your chips or even offer you some if they've got loads.

In London you can get 'savaloy' sausages, haven't had one yet but they have a thick red skin. (I've seen them elsewhere but no where near as popular)

Once in Nottingham I went to a 'fish and chip' shop which had more of a kebab shop slant (I've seen quite a few of these in London too) and asked for a fish butty. After several quizzical 'head on one side' looks and a bit of explaining I managed to convey what I sought to the shop keeper and we came to a compromise/solution. He didn't have any of the afore mentioned bread cakes but he had some 'pitta' breads so he stuck it in that. Then he asked if I'd like salad on it - novel I thought but agreed, then he asked if I wanted the ubiquitous 'chilie sauce' - I declined but the fish kebab had been born!

Actually, on the spicy theme - I curry shops in Bradford I have seen (and eaten) 'Masala Fish' - a fish fillet, marinated in spices for some time then deep fried. Sounds disgusting but actually very tasty. I'm unsure if this is a traditional dish or not.

Tube Nutters

2004-12-22T00:11:00.000Z

OK - people moan about them but in general they seem to provide some free entertainment, we have our governments wonderful 'care in the community' policy to thank for that.

Personally I don't mind them - except for that complete t**t who stands every evening at Oxford Circus trying to convert people to Christianity.

I don't mind the 'random conversation' or 'singing' variety or the happy ones but today though I saw a particularly sad example - homeless, mentally unstable, drink/drug addicted subtype with homemade cardboard reinforced shoes. It was depressing to think that someone could end up in that position.

On a brighter note I have decided to try and do something positive everyday, a random act of kindness. I don't mean something which involves giving my bank details to the hoardes of students wearing flourescent bibs who hang around near the tube but something personal and helpful.

For example:
1) On Saturday I helped some Eastern European woman carry her oversized 4 wheeled wheelie bag* up some stairs at a tube station. Judging by the weight it contained her recently murdered husband.

2) On Monday I gave my copy of the Evening Standard to some guy sitting opposite me - I don't know why I buy it, even though I do so infrequently. I tend to just flick through the images and headlines thus it had outlived its usefulness far too early into the journey.

OK so I'm not mother Theresa and the newspaper wasn't a good example but I'll try and cheer up my fellow commuters. Maybe I'll even start talking to them more... ;-)

* = This guy hates the tourist wheely case/bags - we all do, this one was bigger though!

4 days to Christmas, start shopping...

2004-12-21T14:53:00.000Z

OK, pathological aversion to shopping has been overcome. Maybe it was the bright fluorescent lighting, flickering at 50Hz but for a moment or 5 there I was stood in the Plaza shopping centre, brain hypnotized, not knowing what was going on, where to start, what to get...

I snapped out of it, cash machine... right, money sorted.
"OK gifts, get the gifts" I repeated the mantra in my mind, the crowds of tourists and Christmas shoppers melted away in front of me...
Like a Zen monk I became one with the world, the shoppers, the filthy litter blowing around the pavements like some kind of crazy MacDonald’s corporate logo-ed facsimiles of leaves, the horn beeping taxis and bendy buses, the graffiti, we were one...
I saw the path, quickly and stealthily I moved through the mass of people - my mind running a thousand calculations a second on the velocities and trajectories of the aimless throng, computing my optimal path through the madness.
Hit the shops...
Shop one - oooh that looks like a nice coat, clearly the excitement had got to me, giddy with the blood rush of a shopping spree I'd just bought myself a new coat and hat before I knew what was happening.
Calm down I though, I'd prepared a list of potential gifts for my relatives previously but now I couldn't remember and time was running out, I had to be back at work soon!
OK, brother number 1 - what had I written? T-shirt and whisky or similar I recalled. Tacky tourist t-shirt? No. I ducked into the next shop, browsed, nothing, next... ah - found one. Then I looked around and saw another coat... oh, I like that one too... No, buying two winters coats for myself on the same day is just ludicrous I though, get with the mission.

OK, sort of getting there... what next, my mum. The poor dear has been having a hard time recently so I'd better get her something nice. Smellies and chocs my list had said. Right, into the perfume shop - fought my way through the over powering scents and dizzying array of choices and got something I hoped she would like.

Next - brother number 2, OK - I was really running out of time now, I pass a stall selling crap "X went to London and all I got..." style merchandise. I stop and purchase a tasteless Union Jack hat, I'll get him something else as well - don't worry but it'll keep his head toasty when he's working outdoors or playing rugby.

I pass another tourist shop, something glints at me... dragging me in (god I'm going all out with taste and decency this year!) I spot a tube map tea cosy and it reminds me of my gran (she collects Jubilee mugs, tea towels, other Royalist tat too) - no, she'll have plenty of tea-cosies I guess, plus the design has overlaid the map so its no more than gibberish. I spot a tube map towel, OK that's not going to do it but if it's as well as the usual choccies/flowers then she might enjoy it.

Time please gentlemen! Back to work, still - the process is begun, after work I'll have to finish this!

Make like a Sparrow, head for Harrow?!?

2004-12-20T18:09:00.000Z

OK, the day is now almost over, one more cig, little more work then back to rest my weary bones - and no doubt fall asleep on the tube and wake up in Uxbridge (for the 3rd time!)

I have been feeling decided dodgy today, I guess that prolonged stint playing pool and drinking Stella last night wasn't a terribly good idea.

I wonder if anyone will invent beer-patches to get you off alcohol? If you made them furry on the outside you could market them as 'hair of the dog'. Bad pun, sorry.

I really should start adding some photos to this blog, especially now I have a digital camera. I'd bought it as a Christmas/Birthday present for THAT EVIL B*TCH WHO SHALL REMAIN NAMELESS IN AUSTRALIA, still I guess it's now a little Christmas present to myself instead.

I really need to start my Christmas shopping, I practically work on Oxford Street and just seem to have some kind of psychological aversion to actually going into the shops and spending money. The problem is I'm completely the opposite when it comes to pubs, maybe I need to see a hypno-therapist to reverse these traits or better yet level them out...

All Monkeys Go To Heaven

2004-12-20T13:39:00.000Z

Monkey Heaven - random link for the day.

OK so it looks like I'm going South of the river to live, breathe (and hopefully not die) on 'the other side', I've spoken to the letting agent - contracts, etc. to be exchanged on Wedensday. Better start stocking up on tins of beans! (yuk!)

Had some cute young girl falling into my arms this morning as the tube lurched to a stop. I knew it was going to be a good day - that's the kind of lucky omen we all need from time to time.

Neighbourhood

2004-12-19T15:56:00.000Z

It's now Sunday, had a mad Saturday...

Went to look at a new pad down SE1, contacted the landlord and think I'm gonna grab it although I'm going to be very poor after paying the deposit and first months rent. It'll be lard sandwiches throughout January, still better make sure that turkey goes a long way and freeze the leftovers.

After that I hit Oxford Street - still haven't got around to buying any Christmas presents for the family, no ideas at all but got some new aftershave and other smellies - gotta smell nice for the laydees now I'm a single monkey again.

Went to Neighbourhood nightclub (near Portabello road) last night after rushing home for the 3 Ss (s**t, shower, shave) - got talking to some girl but she was a bit on the young side at 22, didn't get anywhere though - oh well keep trying...

The club was OK, music was verging on the cheesy house at times but hey - better to be out than in.

Magic Mushrooms?

2004-12-17T16:35:00.000Z

OK so the Government has decided to get hard on the sale of magic mushrooms (I mean obviously the crack and heroin dealers are putting so much cash into their back pockets it would be criminal to target them instead) but it seems like their plans are backfiring...

The Guardian

BBC

What on Earth is going on? One can only suspect Mr Blair is hoping the following formula holds true
'Law and Order' + 'Increasing Public Paranoia Over Terrorism' = 'Election Success'

These aint Monkey Nuts

2004-12-15T21:37:00.000Z
Went to Camden Lock on Saturday and purchased some philosophers stones (truffles) - strange nutty after taste, didn't get much in the way of visuals though.

Elephants and Castles

2004-12-13T19:10:00.000Z
OK so this evening (shortly infact) I'm off to Southwark (pronounced Suth-ark I think, damn mi northun accent) which is near Elephant and Castle, to look at a flat.

I went round to see the flat on Friday and its pricey (aren't they all this side of Lincoln), a bit of a dive but has the added bonus of 3 female flat mates - who don't seem very house proud but I wouldn't say that to their face [see this Southern malarky is rubbing off on me already] still it's nice and handy for work, partying down central, etc. as it's in Zone 1 (on the choob that is)

Unfortunately last time I went round it was only the geezer leaving who showed me the room and I never met the others so tonight should be... interesting.

Ming or Bling?
Elephant or Trouser Castle?
I will tell you laters, if there's actually anyone reading this!

The future starts yesterday (oh 'ek, I'm already late!)

Screw the kangaroos

2004-12-13T12:03:00.000Z
Ok so it's now well and truely finished, my ex can no longer screw my head with talk of being on the beach all day, getting drunk, shagging Ozzy surf bums while im in London.

Now I've got to cancel my flight and find another woman. I still want a holiday though and sitting on the tube I saw an ad for Peru. Lost city of the Incas here I come, llama background on my desktop [] was also a twist of coincidence maybe? Maybe fate is telling me, who knows.

Lets get trekking...

The Problem With Long Distance Relationships

2004-12-08T16:00:00.000Z
Well, my girlfriend left me and went to Australia for a year of partying, shagging, etc. yet she expects me to remain behind and wait for her (I wasn't invited along).

My problem: I love her.

Still, all things must come to an end I guess, oh well - more excitment is just around the corner.

The Monkeys Aren't Working... We're Formul8ing a New Plan!

2004-11-29T21:44:00.000Z
So the monkey sits back, relaxes with a glass of home made Melomel and contemplates the pace of the capital...
Why spend an hour each way getting to work?
Why pay over £500 a month to rent a box room, without enough space to fit your 80s synths, yourself and your clothes in? You wont own it at the end of the day.
Why work for an organ grinder?

Plans are afoot dear readers, plans are afoot...

Where to live...

2004-11-29T11:39:00.000Z
Hello dear readers,

can I ask for your help... I'm seeking a new base to live in, somewhere with good links to Central London but not too pricey, but somewhere Im not going to be mugged and have my home broken into, where should I be looking?

I met some guy on Friday who was looking for a fellow house mate, not sure we really got on [these Southern types don't speak their minds] and he seemed to have his heart set on a flat in Canary Wharf - which is nice but maybe a bit pricey and looks like a huge shiny Al-Quieda target. Still anywhere will do, anyone looking for a nice, well mannered, house trained and blunt speaking Yorkshireman flatmate?

Greetings

2004-11-29T11:20:00.000Z
Well hello there,

I'm a Northun Code Monkey and here's a blog of my adventures in the Oxford Circus!

I've seen plenty of clowns so far, but where are the seals and the lions?

Spent Saturday night at the SE1 club in London Bridge - mental banging hard house music. I was somewhat unable to dance after spending an hour and a half earlier in the day doing Capoeira - a strange Brazillian pseudo-martial art/dance thingy. I'm sure my legs aren't designed to go that high!