Pies And A Cathedral

2005-03-14T12:32:00.003Z

a new year,a new blog!
http://tomask.blogspot.com/

2005-03-14T12:32:00.002Z

a new year,a new blog!
http://tomask.blogspot.com/

2005-03-14T12:32:00.001Z

a new year,a new blog!
http://tomask.blogspot.com/

2005-03-14T12:32:00.000Z

a new year,a new blog!
http://tomask.blogspot.com/

2004-12-24T19:00:00.000Z

Hello old friend,
Jesus man, hollow promises and scatty intentions - blow the virtual dust off this thing and strap in for some versatile verbosity: I'll let you in on the most recent events and, as ever, it's all hush hush, off the record and on the QT.

Well, now that I care to think on it there is precious little to recount. My habits are still as annoying as ever (can't you tell).
Last week I had no less than three (count them: three!) Christmas dos. Oddly enough, my feeling of Christmas cheer was inversely proportional, so that by the end of the third I was really quite miserable and wretched. A few good night's sleep and I was sound. One of these dos was at, erm, well...let's just say it was...well that laser quest was involved. Yep - laser quest. A free bar, a buffet lunch of cold-cuts, and an afternoon's bowling and laser quest. Needless to say some people i.e. me, acted like total twats. My brother once related this story to me about how, when he went paint-balling, every single bald, overweight middle-manager immediately assumed the role of 'general'. Well good people, I was that bald, overweight middle-manager, because after a couple of beers I thought I was quite the commando. At times I caught myself uttering ridiculous phrases like "Cover me" and "I'm on it."
Oh, and I was crap at bowling - just to let you know.

Annnyway, the other two were more low key and all three were v nice and much appreciated.
Above and beyond this, caught up with various folk so far this holiday: Phil last night (an all-you-can-eat pizza buffet in Whitehall - we did sterling work and I had my first Black-Russian drink). Kev the night before. Cat tomorrow. Paco too but later on. Is cool.
Gotta go - off to see a band with Chris. More laterzzzzz.

Ok, few days later and I’m updating.
That band experience was a bit rubbish. A horrible pub in a horrible area, the barman perhaps the most sour individual that it has ever been my misfortune to encounter. The music was ok but I was essentially under whelmed. Saw Cat and we had lunch, then Paco for a few drinks at this gym in Wimbledon which, for some reason, I used to be a member of. Then home where my sister had come to visit so we went for some drinks in Surbiton with some of Chris’ friends from work. I slept on the sofa and had a midnight collision with the Christmas tree when I had to get up to use the loo. I think the tree came off slightly worse than me. Then this morning I watched the Karate Kid whilst eating grapes until the rest of my family got here and we did usual Christmas stuff. Sound.

2004-12-03T23:17:00.000Z

Wherefore blog thou?
Wow, has been ages since I updated this thing. I’ve been…err…busy? (tucks magazines under mattress).
Nah man, gross. Had a bunch of work and all that, totally mental. So, I’m on my own on a Friday night. Had a fish finger sandwich for dinner, watched Peep Show (seriously good, nobody seems to notice it) and had too many beers – my life is pretty cool. Flash forward, I’m 37 years old and still doing the same – one nil.
Annnyway, I want to publicly “out” my central heating system: name and shame. Me and it (it and I) have had our differences, I’ll tell you that. See, I’m a computer programmer by trade (by night I put on a costume and fight crime, but that’s a different story), so you’d think that programming a central heating timer would not be beyond me. Unless my thermostat dial actually represents negative numbers or cosines or something I can’t quite figure out why, when I’ve clearly set it to 20 degrees, my house is so flipping f***ing cold man. The thing is meant to turn on at 6:30-7:30 and again at 5:00-7:00, but most mornings I can see my breath man (I can see other parts of my body too but...er…I just don’t want to talk about that – is always very traumatic). The stupid thing is meant to have been on for an hour by the time I get home from work, but EVERY single day I get back, go up the stairs and just listen at my front door: silence. Open the door and click whirr
“Oh yes, hi Tom, boiling away, don’t you worry, busy busy busy! Mmm, warm!” I eye it distrustfully for a bit, go to the next room, I invariably hear a mumbled remark. I’m sure the thing is eating my peanut butter. When I’m out at work it is happily tucking into my peanut butter – I had a whole jar the other day, now it’s all gone. It is simply unthinkable that I ate it all – a preposterous suggestion. No, the central heating had it when I was out. And it keeps putting my CDs in all the wrong cases.
You know, it wouldn’t surprise me, if I was married (to a woman), if I was to come home and find it in a compromising position with my wife.

Sigh. So, as you can tell, a slight recess from reporting this roll of rubbish hasn’t made me any less…irregular. You’d hope, after a vacation, I’d try and make it a bit more, I dunno, interesting? Ah well, not to try, that’s the thing. Yeah so, after a year, I finally got my Provisional Driver’s Licence. Not to start driving lessons you understand – I need photo ID in order to take an exam in a couple of weeks (hence the study which I had planned for tonight but which, somehow, turned instead into a bunch of beers and me trying to play bass along to Duelling Banjos). If I get the exam (need a good deal more study I can tell you) then next year I’m all set to take a design coursework which, if I got that, would be really cool. The way forward with what I laughingly call a career. But the first step is getting out of bed tomorrow and actually getting dressed. If I’m really good I might have a shave too – Mr. responsibility.

Been tracing defects at work. Always feel like a bit of a detective when I do that. I come in dressed like Columbo. The cool thing is that I already have a lot of the clothes. The cigars don’t go down too well, but I’m a maverick right? That’s what they call me – maverick. Well, it rhymes with the last bit of maverick anyway.
Back at Pizza Hut (when I was 16) people called me Ace. No kidding, they called me Ace. I didn’t have any friends there and I kind of figured
“Wow, everyone must think I’m really dark and mysterious. They must recognise and applaud my washing-up skills.”
Nah - turns out they were taking the piss out of my ridiculous hair style at the time (Ace Ventura being the reference).
Washing-up skills? Who am I kidding.
Nobody. I’m off.
Will update again soon!

2004-11-22T15:17:00.000Z

An update is never too far away!!!
I'm on a course this week. Thing is, often end up with quite a lot of time to spare in the old lab sessions (they always give you more time than needed) so I shall update regularly!!!!
Hurrahhh!
Annnyway, I wanna talk about my weekend. I spent Friday doing some much needed study for my upcomming certification exam - my plan is mid December to take it, which should be plenty of time. I'm also working a new project goal that I've set myself that I hope to get done by Christmas but, as we all know, it will end up on my "shelf of good intentions" along with countless other electronic/software/personal projects of the past. Regardless, I shall not be so cynical and continue. On Saturday I went into town, bit of a pasty bit of a pasty, all very hush hush, paper and some milk and groceries and stuff. Then chris came over, got a pizza and a few beers, watched the film The King Of Comedy. THEN we fell asleep. Next day we went to this cool pub for a bit and we played table football, met my family at my local for a spot to eat (although spot was off the menu so we had burgers) and then cups of tea etc round mine. Then that log escaped so me and Chris watched a bit of the old "Mental Rulers Of The World" or whatever it is called, and a bit of the old "Dawn Of The Dead", then he escaped too, so I did a bit more study, went for a jog, watched 4 Weddings, went to bed, HORRENDOUS nightmares (film was more scarry than I gave it credit for) and then into work to start this here course.
That's it. Oh and, thanks to the internet, have now finished most of my Christmas shopping - normally I leave until Xmas eve :-)

2004-11-17T11:40:00.000Z

That Hampshire police sting operation was on the television last night - made me laugh.
All that is new from me....well there just isn't anything new really. I hope to take my java exam next month in order to get certified - have finished the sylabus and am now just revising and waiting for my booking token to arrive. This means I can start working towards developer certification next year (assuming I pass) which will be cool (though time consuming). There's also a couple of other projects in the pipeline that I might spend a bit of time this Christmas working on, though just as likely I'll spend that time reafirming my love of alcohol and just trundling along as I generally do.
Fitness drive hasn't collapsed completely, junk food when I get home being the sticking point, but keep on anyway huh.
Uuumm-hhhhummm girl-fran, he a dawg u gotta kick him t'der kerb
Bye.

2004-11-12T19:36:00.000Z

Ok, I am now officially back on a fietness er, drive? Whatever the term is, I'm gonna get fit...again.
I was doing okay last week but my lurgey, from which I have only just today really recovered, kind of ruled out any physical exercise. I kind of already messed up tonight, so from tomorrow onwards I'll press on.
Doing a computer thing tonight. EJBs and MDBs :-)
Been doing some research:
http://www.kheper.net/ecognosis/Trolls.html
http://home.swipnet.se/~w-66617/trolls.html

2004-11-10T19:45:00.000Z

Quick study break - what better to spend it on than this.
Looking forward to About A Boy tonight - quite enjoyed the book.
Still feeling a bit under the weather - sucks having to spend the whole day at work and then the whole evening inside too.
Anyway,
The cakes went down well - that is to say I dropped them. I've never seen grown men so excited before.
I got them from the shop last night; while there, I figured I might swell get myself a nice pizza for my dinner and, what the hell, a Cobra beer to go with it. Cut to: the checkout, whereby a sniffling me is purchasing beer, pizza and enough cakes to feed an entire screening of Bridget Jones. Did not look good. I kept turning round to people and going
"It's not all for me - honest!"
which, I think, made it look much better.
Embarrassing.
The bloke at the checkout gave me some dodgy vibes man - MEN!
Among all these cakes were some mince pies, which we tucked into with relish (not literally) making it my first mince pie of the year!
Embarrassing lunch violation today too - was tucking into my sandwich at 10:40 or something and one of my team had to come and speak to me - she really WAS horrified. She stopped and said
"wh...why are you eating that now."
I thought for a very long time,
"Just greedy." I admitted.
My story checked out so we moved on.
Yesh - is so hard to resist a packed lunch that's right there. My new shoes are very nice, comfortable.
Reading this book The Corporation which goes into the history of the corporation and how things stand now and how they might/should change in the future. Quite interesting.
When I went to buy it this bloke was in the shop trying to sell the (openly) gay cashier a folder of Marilyn Monroe pictures; was quite tragic really, but then who am I to judge, with my cynical left wing propaganda stored next to my laptop.
Gotta get on, bye!

2004-11-09T14:48:00.000Z

I'm blogging in the rain!
Man, I'm all sick: got a sore throat and all the rest of it; doesn't stop me being double 'ard you understand. Still - can't jog or walk or lift weights or anything man, so all there is to do now is eat and watch telly and grow old. That's no good! That won't get the washing up done.
You know what does get the washing up done? Washing up! Amazing - washing up gets the washing up done. With this in mind, I really should do more.
But I did some last night. Did loads actually.
I know I persist this whole "I am a slob" type attitude and, let's face it, the evidence doesn't exactly blow that stereotype right out of the water, but I'm not that bad; the other day one of my friends caught me doing some washing up.
"I'm impressed" I was told. What - you thought I just brought more plates every time they all got dirty? Come on man, give me a break (ironically, after saying that, I broke a plate). I do washing up from time to time man. In my time I've done laundry with the best of them. Alec Guinness once told me that I was very handy with a mop (what he actually said was "get off my property", but I knew what he meant).
Incidentally, last night, on top of doing washing up, I damn near sorted everything out that needed to be done - didn't quite manage everything but it was close. Laundry, mopping, vacuuming! The night before I did stuff too, all while suffering from LURGEY. I'm clearly trying to convince myself with all of this, not anyone else; this blog is my narcissistic mirror: my dirty laundry aired on the internet. They say a problem shared is a problem halved but I've never believed that - it's doubled - the original problem and the new problem of boring somebody else with it. But I feel a bit better about myself now - I can almost believe that I am quite clean and tidy, and that's good for my self-esteem. So much so that I might celebrate my new found love of myself by going to the pub for dinner, but I haven't decided yet.
I need to buy some cakes for my team (is my turn). Better not forget that - have tattooed it all over my body.
Been tracing another defect - this one for several days. Turns out to be two problems masquerading as one. Is it interesting? No, but it pads this stuff out and makes me sound...padded?
Yeah sure, 'padded', why not.
Well pad off Thomask, you're fooling nobody with all of this gibberish.
Bye!

2004-11-07T01:09:00.000Z

Alright, how are you?
Saw The Grudge - were moments when it was just ridiculously scary. Being as testosterone riddled as I am I find it hard to admit but I was scarred out of my pants man. Saw that film Punch Drunk Love too - beyond lame, just don't bother. Went to the Clahm fireworks with Cath and Rob and Chris and we had a laugh, got home by slight detour of pizza shop. Was scarry because all of the mobiles in the cell stopped working on acount of so many people.
Enjoyed the Saturday Times and Friday's Standard. Relax and exhale, it's time for bed.
All the best!

2004-11-02T14:32:00.000Z

FAQ
Since I started this blog I have been asked a lot of questions - mainly by men in white coats.
So I have decided to answer some of the most frequent ones!

>>You seem to spend a lot of your time on this blog - what the hell is wrong with you?
This question is just ignorance; recent studies (by me) have shown that people who keep blogs invariably lead full and interesting lives. INVARIABLY I tell you. Not only that, they are more often than not fantastic, wonderful individuals who you would just love to meet and share a laugh and a tear with and maybe then a cup of tea or a drink or something!

>>Was it you who made all of those phone calls?
Yes. Yes it was; I'm sorry.

>>Did anyone see Holby last night?
For the last time NO! I don't watch Holby City so please stop asking me this question.

>>You are obviously fairly comfortable with IT - are you as good with women?
If anything I'm better with women than I am with IT. When I am with a woman it is rare indeed that any disks fail - although that did happened once. Since
I stopped drinking coffee power surges have been a thing of the past.

2004-11-02T10:58:00.000Z

LUNCH VIOLAION REPORT-----------------
Officer: Henderson, Peter Symmonds
Persons Concerned: McKiernan, Thomas
Date/Time: 2nd November 2004, 10:46 AM
Food materials: Sandwich and a rather delicious apple
Purchased/Packed lunch: Packed
Incident Description:
Mr McKiernan proceeded to eat his packed lunch, in full view of several (horrified) witnesses, at 10:46 AM
Action Taken:
Since this is not the first of such offences, Mr McKiernan will agree to serve the community, by refraining from voicing his random, boring thoughts in public and instead storing them in a blog.

2004-11-01T14:57:00.000Z

There she blogs!
Hi there,
Happy Halloween and all that sort of thing. I had a small gathering round mine which was very nice. At work there was a Saint And Sinners party - I suggested going as a Southampton fan and thereby achieving both; this earnt me a ripple of laughter from my team except for one bloke, who inhaled and said "steady on". Was good advice and I took it immediately - am now so steady I have barely fallen of my chair once.
Last night I went to see Alfie.
Before I get started, I'll just say that it isn't very good, but then you'd probably already guessed that.
Thing is, I accidentally went into the wrong screen and ended up in the Director's commentary version - some half-bred lard arse sat next to me who felt the need to explain, to nobody and to everyone, exactly what was going on, and then to offer his enlightened opinion on the proceedings:
Alfie gets caught having an affair, his offering
"you're fucked mate"
Alfie discovers a lump on his manhood, what does this guy feel the need to shout?
"That's cancer!"
Needless to say we were all very much relieved that someone with such an impressive medical background was in attendance.
There was more: matter of fact the whole audience was weird - people laughing at the most bizarre times: Alfie comes home and takes of his shoes, ripple of laughter. Is that funny? I do that all the time! Had no idea I was such comedian.
But the whole cinema experience gets me wondering - do movie premiers have pic n' mix? Wouldn't that be cool - all of the celebrity interviews being held near the gummy bears - get to see what they all eat.
I bet Kiersten tucks in like she's digging for truffles: am I still talking about pic n' mix? Let's hope so.
Anyway (man), we walk in late and can't find our seats in the dark, so we're stuck in the aisles for ages looking like idiots - meanwhile this super-slick guy is going on and on about how utterly fantastic he is, thus we provided a dorky counterpoint to the narrative see.
BYE!

2004-10-29T14:32:00.000Z

Some Great, Great Truths

Some great, great truths, that you probably didn't know, which I explained to my wife on my death bed (and subsequently her bed, she having inherited it from me).

If, from jelly, all things were made,
My wife my sweet my nurse my maid,
Then how would we read or drive or write?
A stupid idea, you ignorant wife.
Now listen up girl, and listen you good,
I want this fact to be understood,
The reason we don't breath in the flame,
Is because to do so would cause us great pain.
And should you ask why you seldom see,
A man attempting to drink from the sea,
The reason, you miserable daughter of sin,
Is the terrible fear of being pushed in.
Now why not people dance in the streets?
With kicks and whistles and cheers and with leaps?
Well I'll tell you now, if you'll just let me say,
We'd block the path and get in the way.

2004-10-29T13:49:00.000Z

Is me looking silly in public - won't see that often!

2004-10-29T13:32:00.000Z

wow man,
that defect I was chasing has only just been fixed. Mate, was a total corker man, a real mind flip and then some.
Now it is fixed and, get this, everyone has gone home! That's one thing about development, it can sometimes be all hands on deck, followed by periods with nothing to do.
(bear in mind that I started this blog back in development too). Last night I had to work late, with others, and yesterday was a bit of a frey, but now all seems well.
Was quite cool though, got it in for the deadline of this afternoon.
Phew. Relax.
Was the same the week before I joined performance - racing for the Friday deadline, as panicked as it is possible to be, and then, at 4 o'clock, I made it, went home (seem to remember that I went to the pub), and spent the next week doing NOTHING.
Nudda.
Not a thing.

So what do I do now?
Well, if I do more testing then I can't possibly fix any problems I find, but to go home is bad form: I think I'll go for a walk, come back, mess around on the net (but make it look like I'm working) and get off home at about 4.
Then I will...CLEAN...my flat; with a capital C man - it is a real tip right now and I have people coming round on Saturday. I'll go for a jog and do some weights, make a few calls, wait for Edd to come over, grab a pint and watch Friday evening TV with him, go to bed (but not with him obviously). Next morning I'll wake up, probably, and from then on I'll just wing it.

Back from my walk.
I'm just going to write here for the next few minutes if that's ok. You don't mind do you?
I've been listening to Seal. I love that music - strikes me as a really good balance between musicianship and mass appeal I mean, the songs are really well crafted, quite complex some of them, but you don't even notice because they're so well put together, and all you hear is a nice pop tune.
There are some chord changes that are just so unmistakably his though - I like it when you can just hear a musician's signature in a piece. Jaco Pastorius is like that - you ALWAYS know when you are listening to him, just jumps out right at you, regardless if he is just a supporting player or whatever.
Matter of fact, I haven't checked out the Jaco website in ages, I'll just go there now:
He he - listen to this quote from Wayne Shorter
"Jaco's passion for music enables him to move into a more profound manifestation of his 'true' self, the essence of his True entity which is absolute and eternal...!"
yeah yeah. "manifestation of his true self": at least when there's a sax in his gob he can't talk bollocks.
Oh dear, listen to Marcus Miller talking:
'Jaco was like, "So you're the kid! They told me there was this young black kid who could play like me!" and I was like, "This dude is pretty wild."'
Great story Marcus, it only lacked a reference to "this cat".

God man, if these guys could get away from all this hipster crap they might realise that jazz is dying and doing so pretty damn quickly. They could do a lot to stop that from happening if they just stopped behaving like such old geezers. There's no reason for it: Herbie Hancock was successful as you like incorporating modern black music into his sound - dude basically pioneered electro with Rockit (bad ass track) and with his Headhunters stuff you can hear it even earlier! Having said that, Herbie Hancock is one of the worst offenders for talking gibberish - listen to this from his website:
"a part of the responsibility of being a human being, is to be able to work with people and interact with people"
RUBBISH. The sole responsibility of a human being is to make as much noise, and as much annoyance, as is humanly possible.
And if, in the course of your life, you see any other human beings you should attack them - immediately.
Idiot.
Ok, stop the junk, I'm off, no longer bothering you.
Bye bye.

2004-10-27T15:36:00.000Z

Ohhh - I'm on the trail of a defect. This one looks like a beauty mate. And I got a hot cup of tea AND I've been eating mints (sugar free).And all the while I'm hunting this defect. I'm the original Beverly Hills blog man.I hear that electro music in my head as I type man, I'm the coolest programmer y'all ever met. Sure I buck the system but I get results, you dig? Man I'm you're worst friggin nightmare, a programmer with a badge (says "I Love Putney"). Yeah baby I'm bad.
Do, do, dum de do do da do, doooooo, do da de doo da do de daaa dum dum de dum da daaaa.
Who's this? My new partner? But he's a nerd - oh no wait, at the end he does something cool at the end and we all can't believe he did it. Do, do, dum de do do da do, doooooo, do da de doo da do de daaa dum dum de dum da daaaa.
Stick the chewing gum wrapper in the door. Don't have any gum? Ok then just throw some of those mints at the door.
Bucking the system to get results. In this case, instead of chasing the defect, I write about it, and then its home time.
Ohh look - so it is. Bye

2004-10-27T14:07:00.000Z

Long running test: since I've moved back to development I've been doing more test and less development. You might call that ironic but, if you did, I'd call you a bunch of other stuff, all of it unpleasant.
Anyway, you've got me until this test finishes, so what shall we talk about?I dunno, I think Neighbours is on right now - not sure what to think about all that is going on there - turns my head a bit. Morally confused you know?
I'd really like a beer tonight you know; I'd like nothing more than a beer and someone to drink it with. Chat and a laugh man. Jesus this weather's getting me down: wet and cold, I can hardly get out of bed nowadays, but in the sumer I was up and about every morning no trouble. Maybe I'm just upset that I've finished my lunch and I'm still hungry.
Opps - just realised why that test was taking so long: guess what - it was my fault! Ha ha.
Why I'm still paid is a mystery.

2004-10-27T10:06:00.000Z

Man, there should be a law against being as unfit as I am right now. After just one day of my new regieme my stomache hurts, my back hurts and I don't want to talk about the state I was in after I went running. I'm not going to give up just yet though - try to keep it going for a bit longer.The invitations are now out for my weekend gathering! Little else to say so I'm off.

2004-10-25T23:00:00.000Z

Pretentious alert:
Man, I don't know if you know the feeling - when you get back home after a long time, and you feel a bit down, and you check your telephone messages and there are three: two are trying to sell you insurance, but the last one, somehow, makes it alllll better.
So you listen to some music and take it-a-de easy no?
In this case, the music is something that I've recently discovered that, I feel, could really make me for the next few months.
At different times, various musics have just been all that I listen to: this was my so and so period, and etc punctuated this stanza of my existence, and so I guess you get the general idea.
(incidentally a great name for a progressive rock group - The General Idea. That's my stuff all over: "everything in general and nothing in particular": a self-coined phrase that I like to kick about in the hope of sounding intelligent or interesting or both: truth is I generally fail, but I guess that's ok too.)

Train travel should be made illegal (or at least it should be regulated): it promotes introspective thought, and this is rarely good: this particular instance, a firm plan to go to the gym, shed those superfluous pounds (I, it would seem, am not one of those renaissance paintings that can get away with looking a bit chubby, just by virtue of pulling a vaguely moody expression). In winter, I rarely come across such lofty ambitions: what prompted it was a walk through my old jogging track - the fields owned by the old asylums for the mentally deranged that used to orbit Epsom: they were purchased by Oxford University and then by the borough council for farm and general use: Now they are a rural secret known to dog walkers and sex offenders alike, and the fields stretch for miles. This walk brought some touching music: a harmonic series that I could hear alongside my favourite tree - the metal fence, which encapsulates the huge field (that stretches to Ashtead) was blowing in the wind and, somehow, was resonating in this amazing way. I've only ever heard one sound like it, which was outside electronics labs in Southampton, where the Silicon drilling machine used to hum in this...well I used to go long out of my way just to listen to it. I sat by my tree for a while listening, and experimenting with dampening the wooden posts with my hand, which affected the harmonics in a really cool way. I fancy that a progressive rock band (The General Idea perhaps?) might go on to record this at some stage.
NOTE TO SELF:
Stay away from this gumpf: stick to talking about what you had for dinner and what you plan to have for lunch.
Recognising my own mediocrity, I'll call it a day, a weekend, and a generally good time!
Bye!

2004-10-25T10:57:00.000Z

A quick round up of the weekend for the sake of...well I'm not really sure why, but here it is anyway.I got home on Thursday and ate when I got back. My journey was fast and easy. I spent a bit of time trying to figure out the Pat Metheny lines to Bright Size Life on my brother's guitar before he got back from the cinema.Next day him and I trooped off to Brighton - had a very nice time there actually. The city is really pretty at this time of year, extremely windy. I got a rubber duck and some postcards. We got back and had some dinner and then we took a train to Camden to meet Catherine and had a drink in a few bars down there. Got a cab all the way back to Sutton where we had a house party and I was asleep through most of it. Got home and I slept on the sofa. Next day we had lunch with mum and Cath and then Chris and I rented the film Butterfly Soldiers. Edd got the train to Chessington and we met him there, watched the rest of the film, had some dinner, got a bus to Kingston. There we met Kev and Cat also and got another bus to Hampton where we met just about everyone. Had a few drinks in various bars, I found £80 in a toilet, but decided not to keep it. Got the train back and me and Edd had a glass of wine before bed. Next day we got a train into Waterloo and went through the city for a bit. It was completely deserted with even most of the terminus train stations shut down for engineering works. We had some rip-off food at Covent Garden and then we hung around Soho for a bit. Took Edd back to get his train and I went to have dinner with Kev and his family and some of their friends. We rented out the film Shattered Glass (which I really enjoyed - is about a liar who eventually gets caught). Stayed over and next morning we watched the film Along Came Polly. About to head to meet my brother in his lunch break before trying to figure out what to do with the rest of the day. Mum is cooking tonight after her interview, and then I'll have to get the train back to Winchester.So I guess that's everything.Bye!

2004-10-21T15:21:00.000Z

Just had my fire warden saftey training session.
Couldn't help but get excited when we got to watch a VIDEO during work.
"No silliness McKiernan." I was warned - I always get over excited.
After my training, I returned to my office to find a colleague drinking coffee.
"That's not safe!" I screamed, and I belted him round the face to rebuke him for it. I hit him so hard he spilt his coffee all over his monitor, which promptly caught fire.
"Now look what you've done" I screamed, giving him a kick. "Run for your lives!" I cried, my body riddled with panic as I frantically collected all of my tea bags and drawing pins into my pockets.
So far as I can tell a fire warden is just a glorified sign post, pointing to the assembly point.
I could do that. Might even say I was born to do it.
Oi, tomorrow off, gonna go clubbing in Camden, CP's leaving do on Saturday and whatever on Sunday - so don't mess.

2004-10-15T13:18:00.000Z

urrgggh
feel rough as flip man - my own fault: had a Rap Attack last night.
Have also purchased and listened to some new Groove Armada CDs and, a sign of my growing mental illness, am considering the latest Shatner album.
MUST...OWN....EVERYTHING
True sign of the times - can't be bothered to drink anything this weekend: is just too loud. Papers (got latest Private Eye to devour) and laziness for Saturday during the day.
Wasting time on MSN too.
Some puzzles would be nice - but they have to be decent ones i.e. ones that I can do. Might do them in the bath actually. Incidentally, did anyone want to know that?
Well you do now.
The week has been slow; full of dim, thickheaded attempts to understand quite simple code, and also various other greivances.
Last night I tried to ring up LBC.
"What do you want to say?"
"Don't know yet - put me on hold so that I can hear what's under discussion."
"Ok."
Minute later
"How was that?"
"Fine - don't have anything to say."
"Ok. Bye!"
Idiots.
They better watch it or they're gonna make an enemy out of meeeeee!

2004-10-11T16:21:00.000Z

Ummm,Just had an email read out by Henry Kelly on the radio.I was a bit critical of him. He got a bit angry. He read it out really fast and kept adding comments like"now listen to this bit lads"and"listen Thomas and listen good"and he even ended with"so put that in your pipe and smoke it"Oh well, now most of London heard me getting a good dressing down.Sigh.

2004-10-08T14:59:00.000Z

Greetings from ablog and beyond!
(has been a while since I've punned my way into an entry - let's see if I can spin a pun on my way out too)
This week has been particularly bad; I screwed up on three consecutive ocasions. Let's hope next week is a bit better.
Tonight Chris and I are gonna drink beer, eat pizza and go see that Peter Sellers movie.
Dia-blog-icaly indulgent, wouldn't you say?

2004-10-07T22:41:00.000Z

On The Busses
Every day, when I get on my bus, the bus driver takes my ticket and he examines it with such an air of suspicion and general dislike that I begin to wonder what, exactly, I have done to offend him. One would scarcely believe that I have ridden this bus every single day for the last thirteen months by the way he scours my ticket, looking for signs of fraud. What really bothers me is that the same bus driver then goes on to exchange cheery and flirtatious remarks with anyone and everyone who gets on after me, and often even apologises to them for my presence. The bus journey itself is always silent and miserable. That is, until I get off, when I invariably hear a burst of laughter and conversation spring up as the doors close behind me.
Strange.I once went on in disguise just to see what the journey is like when I’m not there.
"I'll get on in disguise." I thought, and so I got on in disguise; in this case, disguised as an aged, peasant Russian Jewess. The bus driver waved me past with a casual hand movement. I sat down in my normal seat and, before very long, was engaged in conversation with a young lady who I had previously sat next to, in stony silence, for the last thirteen months. She told me I was very lucky because the seat I was sitting in was normally reserved by “The Flid”. She went on to tell me all about this fellow - a real jerk by the sounds of things. A bunch of them went on to do impressions of him and it was all most amusing. Indeed, we were all getting on so well that I decided to reveal myself. I stood up and whipped off my wig.
"It is me everyone!" I cried.
Immediately the carriage fell silent.
With the passengers glaring at me in pure, abject hatred, I spent the rest of the journey stood in the isle, holding my wig and adagio tights, trying to look dignified.
I hate our bus service.

2004-10-07T22:40:00.000Z

I am working on the formula for the perfect Question Time answer - that which is GUARANTEED to get applause.
So far I have:

0.9*("government lied about Iraq") + (2^1/2)*("no vote on Europe yet - where is democracy?") - "UKIP position fundamentally unsound"^2

I think I'm missing something involving "dangerous precedent" and "local income tax".
Always nice to mention Siamese twins too.
Might need to brew up some coffee and work into the night.
Bye!

2004-10-06T13:10:00.000Z

FYI:Some people, idiots, permanently mark their emails as urgent. Generally this is to highlight some 'interesting' article that I/everyone might like to read; kind of the net equivalent of"Dad? Dad? Dad? Dad? Dad?""What?""Do you like my Action Man?"
Worse, some of them have "FYI" in the subject header. Shudder in disgust.
Consequently the "urgent" section of my inbox is always full of junk every morning and more often than not I miss the one thing that actually IS urgent.
And incase you were wondering, all posts on this blog are urgent; extremely urgent.

2004-10-06T10:01:00.000Z

A classic case of life imitates art imitates life - in this case the Simpsons.
Hampshire police have adopted a new and imaginative technique for luring in wanted criminals; the various wanted persons were all sent invitations to appear on a channel 5 game show, where they would get the chance to win various prizes and to meet Christina and Neil Hamilton, of brown envelope notoriety, who were presenting the show.
Once everyone was seated in the studio, the Hamiltons announced that everyone in the audience had won a prize. The curtains were pulled back to reveal what they had won - a troop of coppers who promptly arrested everyone (including the Hamiltons?) in the room. This was all filmed by channel 5 who will be airing it shortly.

2004-10-05T20:10:00.000Z

Here's the latest thing, all the cool kids are doing it - a scrap book.
Anything I see that takes my fancy I cut it out and stick it in my book.
A bunch of Haikus in Metro the other day - cut out and stuck in.
An overheard snippet of conversation that intrigues me - jotted down.
A strand of hair from some bird on the bus - pulled it out and sellotaped it in.
Joking about that last one - she was bald - but you get the idea.
But why would I do this?
Dunno.
Bit weird ain't it?
Dunno.
Tom, how was Edd's sister's wedding?
Edd's sister's Wedding was really nice - a nice time was had by all. I made a true pig out of myself - ridiculous amounts of Thai food. Edd's family were really really welcoming. Lordy lord was I pissed - a heroic amount of alcohol man. I proceeded to lecture various unfortunate people on a wide range of topics, all of which I had barely a basic grasp; convinced that I was imparting immense insights of blinding brilliance on whatever subject I had happened to pick from the ether, I assumed a pedantic authority, surely the rightful role of a pissed uncle, as I hopped from one discourse to the next, to the accompaniment of many glazed eyes; this before me telling Edd's dad "I really respect ya...bring up a family...travel the world, cutting edge of reseercch, amazing...well played...you gonna drink that?".
But that's what Weddings are all about huh.
Ceremony was very nice.
Norwich is really pretty. Norwich->Romford->Home.
Some dude on the train on Friday, happily boasting to his mobile phone about all of the fights he got into with Milwall in Europe this week.
In the evening Chris demonstrated his new amp and then accompanied me to the Junction; we had a few beverages, laughs, mambo-tangos and then I got the train back home; wrote a story on the way back about a lady and her parrot - bit weak but passable. Maybe.

2004-10-03T07:19:00.000Z

Am at Edd's: thought I would sing a little song to the dog. The dog looked at me, scampered away, scurried back and started barking, and now he growls whenever I enter the room; guess I'm no Cerrie Blair!

2004-10-01T15:23:00.000Z

Stop your ginning and drop your linen.
The following may be of interest:
here you go
and this one too!
http://www.kingnutter.com/lbc/tash.gif

2004-10-01T07:44:00.000Z

I'm wearing the hysteresis shirt - once crumpled, no matter how many times you flippin' iron it, it always returns to a crumpled heap.
Which is a shame because, by extension, it means that no matter how many times one irons the universe, it will always retain some crumple.
Like me!!!!!
This weekend I am going going to Norwich to see if the rumors are really true. Will eat Doritos on the journey and have a McDonalds/Burger King at least once during my stay.

2004-09-30T08:36:00.000Z

Ok so the reviews of Wimbledon are in:
I am 70% sure I saw myself in two scenes, but blink and you'll miss it. However, I can give you a pretty good idea where they are in order to give you the best chance (should you care):
When the bloke wins his second match he gives a press conference (his second). A journalist asks him, just before he sits down, some dumb question, and he replies something along the lines of
"actually it's fourteen, but who's counting?"
He sits down, right at the end of the scene it cuts to the wall opposite to where he is sitting: I'm stood on the far left grinning (I think).
Second scene is when him and his mate have finished a game and they're going through the tunnel and the main guy goes
"Everyone is going to hate me for beating the British number one"
and suddenly lots of people swamp him asking for autographs - I think I'm at the end of the tunnel, near daylight, on the left.
The bit when I was holding the muffin in the press room was cut :-(
However, it did remind me of this thing I had forgotten: one of the crowd scenes I had to walk up and down along the court (can't see me though), and one of the players is called Tom, so the whole crowd is shouting "come on Tom, you can do it Tom, you're the man Tom" and I remember just thinking
"yeah, no probs, hey thanks, that means a lot, no thank you, you're too kind really " all day and just not getting tired of it. It was literally a day spent inflating my ego.
Other crowd scenes I was in, but where you can't really see me, was Kiersten shouting "the chalk blew up it was right there" and when they slow clap someone or other for being a jerk.
The film itself is cheesy as hell but Kiersten is fit as flip and Paul is funny enough, so they are quite well matched I guess.
Their courtship was a little bit 0-60 in ten seconds though, so the net effect was that, despite the film's faults, it was nothing more than good, harmless fun.
Afterwards to the pub with CP and Jen for the burger and beer that I had my heart set on, and then home for Nip/Tuck followed by bed.
Was ace.
One thing I wasn't aware of though - when you're driving from Brighton to Wimbledon, it would seem that the correct route is to go past Buckingham Palace, round Trafalgar Square, round Big Ben and the Palace Of Westminster and past as many Routemaster busses as is humanly possible. All those wasted trips on the M25 eh? Anyway, I used to live on the London To Brighton road and it looked very different to the route they showed on film...almost like they are lying to us. I hope not - I've been living my life in the expectation that being clumsy, quaint and generally a bit of a dork will somehow win me either an American supermodel or an American tennis star.

2004-09-29T10:12:00.000Z

Another long running test...soooo....another blog entry!
And how.
Sorry about my complaining last weekend - I promise I wasn't that miserable in real life.
So I am going to see Wimbledon this evening; mainly to look for myself. If I'm in any scenes then you can be sure to hear about it here first. I have a dim memory of being the male lead but, er, that might have just been in my dream last night...was a very different type of film.
With any luck my financial situation will be somewhat more buoyant next month - am already looking through the Argos catalogue with a gleam in my eye. But this month I have picked up some quite good habits - bringing my own lunch into work and trying to pick up incidentals at the supermarket rather than at the petrol station - so I'll do my best to carry that on. However, I WOULD like some more Groove Armada CDs, and the Starwars DVD box set intrigues me. Ohh, does it all have to be so expensive.
Hey - I'm eating some of those new Trebor sugar free mints and hot dog they're pretty darn cool. I shall carry a pack with me at all times; incase of emergencies.
I'm going now BYE!
PS: Paul Daniels has stormed off "The Farm" (the C5 reality TV soap) after arguing with Vanilla Ice about the war in Iraq. Tee hee.

2004-09-26T11:45:00.000Z

Man, this cold has now become a cough; fan-flipping-tastic. I had some chicken soup with some burnt toast (the crusty bits from the ends) and some coca-cola and, would you believe it, I still feel unwell; I've lost count of the cups of tea - somewhere in the hundreds. My biology has been replaced by a pipe.
Reading the papers and watching Phoenix Nights on DVD and ocasionally flicking to Holyoaks. I'll leave y'all to it.

2004-09-24T18:24:00.000Z

Hi,
I'm lying on my bed right now; the slow jazz that's playing in the other room is seeping in through the door. I've been revolving thoughts (always a bad idea); the crisp cool air today has really reminded me of various things - it's weird how something like weather can suddenly do that. I have a cold, a headache and a sore throat right now so I'm hauled up for the weekend; probably means I won't be able to manage that three mile jog I was planning.
[look round to see if anyone believed that]
I have books, music and the papers but they're not going to last - I'm bored already. If I impose another mug of tea on my bladder it will mutiny, and I've worn away the carpet from shuffling between the kitchen and the living room.
I went out for an Indian with the team today: I thought it might last into the night but it didn't. To be honest I'm glad - is less fun when drinking water, and I needed to get into the warm.

Man, I'm thinking of starting up a self-help group: Cheddars Not So Anonymous. Man, if Jesus had been offered Cheddars in the desert instead of crappy bread then the whole damn thing would have come crashing down. The only reason he wasn't offered any was because the D scoffed the lot before didn't he.
Bread? You tried to tempt him with bread? That's rubbish. Did you at least offer him some dips to go with it? Some cold cuts or some guacamole or something?
Ok then, his next tactic, was to try to convince him to jump of a cliff. Brilliant. Fantastic. Who wouldn’t want to jump of a cliff. Does anyone else suspect that the D was not all that bright? You probably wouldn't want to leave him on the phones in the office would you. He’s still not allowed to operate the oven unsupervised and he has to get other people to tie his laces.
Ok we'll give it one more try - this time we'll get him. We’ll offer him something he can’t refuse.
See this kingdom here? It could all be yours.
Yes, you could be in charge of the Gaza Strip.
Damn bible; all those verses; not a single bloody chorus. What were they thinking?
But if they replaced communion wafers with cheddars I'd be there in a second man. I'd be the most devout Christian you ever saw.

Ohh how I'd like to be able to inhale through my nose again.
To be honest I'm rather enjoying exercising the 'feeling sorry for yourself' prerogative of the patient - that's why I'm writing this: try and get some sympathy from you selfish, healthy bastards. More to the point, now I have an excuse to anoint my body with vapour rub (or vaporub if you’re a Vicks only type).
Still man, it just feels wrong not to have a drink on Friday night.
Is that really pathetic?
I don't think that it is; this is just a by-product of us being an industrialised nation - we can't trust the water or the beef so we turn to the beer and the cheddars. What could be more natural than spending Friday with your face in a puddle of your own creation? It is what Darwin intended.
And I am officially jealous.
Time for another cup of tea man. Take it easy.

2004-09-20T15:24:00.000Z

I think I'm a little bit weird; I just watched Super-Size Me this weekend and now I really fancy a McDonalds.
I must be strong; that route only leads into madness.
I need to go shopping tonight: the aim here is to buy things, cheap things, for dinners and lunches for at least 2 weeks. I also have to clean up a bit. I want to listen to a bit of music - I have some CDs that have hardly had a decent listening at all - and I have the papers to read and, most importantly, I need to play with my new telephone: it is vital that I select a ring tone that adequately defines me as a person. So far, all of the ring tones that I've tried would define me as a twat.
There may well be something in that.
Exchanging present for past, I had a very enjoyable night on Friday at the Vic, culminating in a midnight feast of pizza; I lazed around Saturday morning before going on this stag night thing, which was basically in and around Soho (saw some fantastic scenes involving policemen and drunk people) and then the Comedy Store. Sunday I read a few magazines, drank tea, went to see the film, had a pint and got back home for a healthy dose of TV.
So pretty darn smooth operation all round really - I'd pat myself on the back if I could (slept on my arm last night and now it really hurts).
For dinner tonight I fancy curry with apple and/or sultanas.

2004-09-17T14:46:00.000Z

Yet more invasions into the House of Commons - does anyone else suspect that reverse psychology is the new approach for the West's war on terror?
I used to be a removal man in parliament and, once, went into both John Prescott's and Mow Mowlam's offices - Mow's was a real mess with all these bits of old computer over the floor. True story.
I just want to point out that yes, I do realise that WWF is now called WWE, a name change that happened to protect Prince Phillip, who kept getting threatened by big wrestlers who felt they had been cheated of the title by various 'heels'.
"Dude, I'm gonna CRUSH you."
"Christ, you're sounding like a bloody African native."
In actual fact, one of my friends has had the Edinburgh treatment: he got his gold Duke Of Edinburgh award and, presumably as punishment, got to meet Prince Phillip. Prince Phillip asked him
"Where did you go for the camping section of the award?"
"I went to Ireland."
"Christ! They didn't chuck any bombs at you did they?"
True story, but that goes without saying - everything in this blog is true: that's what makes it so dull :-)

2004-09-17T11:21:00.000Z

All is well.
Well...all is ok. Now that I have performed all of my engagements for the day I can sink into my computer, immerse myself in trying to fix this configuration problem I have and just wait for the weekend to come up and give me a big, welcoming hug.
The plan for tomorrow:
buy Saturday papers, sit on sofa reading them while drinking copious quantities of tea, all with LBC in the background, then a big lunch and finally head off to Waterloo for this stag night; lord knows what that will be like - we're going to the comedy store so that should be cool. Awwwwwesome.
I'm looking forward to the stripper.
Who am I kidding - I am the stripper.
Last night Edd graced my horizons: few beers, spot of dinner, then back to mine where we listened to electro (Herbie Hancock), Square Pusher and The Jacksons.
We watched the Genesis video with the Spitting Image dolls - hilarious, and then enjoyed the best bits of Question Time, which is rather like WWF only with dandruff.
Baaaaadddd.

2004-09-16T08:19:00.000Z

This morning, towel round my waist, shirt half on, lift up my arms and go to spray some deodorant...and proceed to cover half of my body with shaving foam.
Opps.

2004-09-16T07:41:00.000Z

Forget fox hunting; I reckon all these toffs should meet in the mornings at my house and try and find my keys...or my shoes....or my girdle.
Just joking about that last one: I let it all swing natural you get me?
But man, now they're hunting politicians?!?! Is brilliant. It is my belief that all of these people, these angry masses - fathers for justice and countryside alliance - they all just do it to keep me entertained at work.
And I LOVE it.
I was on a course in London during Bush's state visit: oh but I did enjoy those protests. Mischievous giggling as bad behavior proliferated. Lean out of my window and shout
"Hit 'im! Hit him!"
No takeaway last night but I did have a can of beer - meaning I have three left for the rest of the week. They won't last long :-?
I now have a new mobile phone! Standby for the distribution of my number on a mailing list near you!
Bye.
Oh, meeting at uni went well....well...it went ok.

2004-09-14T15:16:00.000Z

Ello dust eyes,
Hmmm, I am in an playful mood this afternoon.
But the question remains as to what to eat for dinner; the world is my oyster, I guess, but I had oysters last night. I shared a bath with them, which was very romantic. Last night I lay on my sofa and listened to Square Pusher - wasn't sure if I was listening to music or a Spectrum ZX loading.
---insert nostalgic discussion on classic computer games here---
Is really weird right, some of these really agressive and stupidly hyperactive 'beats' have exactly the same effect on me as being tickled - lying there giggling hysterically at this seamingly random stream of noise. But believe it or not I did like the music - or at least I enjoyed it - but I don't see (or hear) myself giving it much play time in the future. Only when I want to piss of the neighbours.
Tomorrow afternoon I'm off to Southampton to liase with an old lecturer on some issues I raised with him a while ago - hope it goes ok; I still got this meeting this Friday to prepare for.
I'm thinking I've just about had enough of the world's judgement; I'm going to bite the bullet and get a takeaway tonight; I'm going to gorge on grease and eat it all...by...my...self, and then sit in a field and rock back and forth.
But I have boring food in the fridge that will need using up. Sigh.
Oh we'll just have to wait and see.
I'm officially a ghost.

2004-09-12T09:31:00.000Z

Head...hurts.
Wearing someone else's shorts; they are far too tight.
Read the Saturday papers and got a Square Pusher album. Helped Cat move house yesterday - just the heavy boxes and that. Kev's sister's wedding was cool - couple of blasts from the past. Some dude came up to me and asked me if I was "local" just the other day - couldn't help but laugh. I got an Electro album (for the man who has everything) and also two Conan Doyle books, one of which is about Egyptian "dervishes" who hijack a paddle steamer - already the book is raising all of these questions concerning Europe's relation with the middle east that are really interesting and just as valid today.
I fancy Sunday papers, listen to music, tea and Holyoaks and, maybe, a mars ice.
Lovejoy!
Paco is in town so might see him too. He's going to visit Henry Day who is either married or engaged and now lives in Enfield, of all places.
Tom

2004-09-10T10:19:00.000Z

Hmmm,
quick review of the last few days anyone? Show of hands?
Marvellous.
Well, firstly I'd...if you'd just settle down...GENTLEMEN......thank you....well, firstly I'd just like to say a massive congrats, Winchester style, to the illustrious CP, who will shortly (next month) be off, off and away, free and frivolous, to start his new life/job in Switzerland; well done boss. To celebrate, he and Jen came over night last for drinks. LOVEJOY! After years of reading of Swiss bank accounts in Tom Clancy books, he finally gets to have one himself.
Aparting from that, Edd is coming round this eve to watch, but of course, a certain zombie film that I'm slightly fond of; man, to be an extra in that film would have been sweet - a silce of fried gold if you will.
--fast forward--
this entry spans two days! Technology eh.
Today I was told, about ten seconds ago, to prepare for a meeting where I would present some of my recent work. My last such presentation went ok, but only because I spent lots of time preparing and rehearsing. I was basically worried that I would undo that impression by a highly efficient process of umming and erring for thirty minutes. Worse, this would have been a high level view, meaning that I couldn't get down into technical details and so it would be a lot harder to spend any amount of time talking intelligently about the issues I'm currently looking at. Worse still, it would have been with the owner of the project, and it would have been her first meeting with me, so first impressions and all that sort of thing.
However, about five seconds ago I was told that the meeting was cancelled. I did a pretty good job of acting disappointed (Oscar nominated) and now I get a week to prepare, which is much more like it :-)
Of course, I will inevitably just be umming and erring in a weeks time, but at least I stand a chance of getting it right.
On Saturday I'm going to Kev's sister's wedding.
And now to bed (not really).
Bub-bye.

2004-09-06T10:50:00.000Z

Quickly writing up the weekend as my large zip extracts itself (takes 20 mins).
Ok, Friday I went for a massive walk - did all the major parks in London and a bit of Soho; came back via Kensington and enjoyed a nice slice of pizza at home as we watched that 'Hamburg Cell' program.
On Saturday Chris and I went to see Motorcycle Diaries: is a very good film - beautiful scenery; very interesting. Give it a go I beseech thee.
After that, Chris and I enjoyed a home-cooked meal of Korma that was delicious. Just the ticket mate. Being wined and dined, we then went to the birthday party of this guy called Tom Allen; he's a funny little man. Quite stooped, very sensible, a physicist. The sort of bloke who is liable, at only the merest hint of encouragement, to talk you through huge volumes of holiday photos. We had a really good time actually and ended up dancing like a couple of twats - I don't use that word often but, in this case, I really have no option but to deploy it. I don't want to go into details but...if I just say that air guitar was involved...well perhaps we can leave it at that.
This homeless walked in off the street with the intention of hassling people of female persuasion; I was just about to intervene when I realized that it was me, and I was looking in a mirror. Nah serious, this guy was a fool and eventually went away.
On the way home we had to walk through the industrial estate. I've done this many a time before, but this is the first time that I've had company, and it makes it a damn sight less lonely. I usually sing myself little songs as I walk past deserted factories and warehouses. What made it even better, however, was when I produced the two packs of Mini-Cheddars that I had stashed away for this precise occasion - how my brother's face lit up. We had raided their buffet earlier, which was quite the strangest assortment that I have ever come across; cola bottles, Mini Cheddars, NatWest keyrings (?), beer mats, cheese on sticks and, God knows why, a massive box of Hall's Soothers.
Pretty standard then.
On Sunday I went to Kingston and we had some really nice sandwiches and hung out with Kev for a while, who is beginning in earnest work tomorrow (is not in earnest but in Gunnersbry). Then the usual trip to Woking to get the train; most people on that train were standing - was absolutely packed. Is completely unacceptable and the ticket inspector was getting filthy looks from people - how dare you check our tickets when this is the service that you provide.
Grrrrrr.
Bye.

2004-09-03T10:23:00.000Z

James O'Brien is doing a ghost/supernatural story phone in today: the man's genius is unparalleled. Is all about that stupid radio signal that's affectionately known as SHGb02+14a; am enjoying the stories anyway - whooooooooohhhh.
Meeting yesterday went ok and the gig went very well. Am just 'bout to go off and join Chris for a spot of lunch; then I'm off to buy a new book. This evening I will sit on my bed listening to music and reading - can't really afford much else: last night was a bit more expensive than I'd planned on.
Man, these stories make my eyes water. Love it.
Bye.

2004-09-01T21:16:00.000Z

Geetings.
Working at night: the rule is, if you have to even think about work, you owe yourself a beer. Unfortunately, this doesn't go for during the day (is frowned on) but it sure does help if it invades my precious evenings. I have a meeting tomorrow that I have to prepare for; I reckon another hour tonight and get in early tomorrow and I'm ok.I hope this thing goes well. Guess we'll wait and see.
So I'm taking a small break to write this :-)
Sigh. One day I'm going to set up a website that makes me millions and I won't have to bother with this sort of stuff. I was thinking of a "Henry VIII Dating Agency" for men with a string of failed marriages. Either that or a website where you can download peanut butter.
My plan for the weekend? Well, my weekend starts tomorrow, as I have Friday off! I'm going to see Chris play with his new guitarist in Putney. I counted up all of my silver (am really that bored - having work to do is almost a great boom) and now have almost £40 which I intend to pay in at lunch time - busiest time - so as to cause maximum embarrassment and annoyance. I get upset if someone takes more than a millisecond at the cashpoint man, I'm so cranky in situations like that, but I've never seen someone weighing in a tenner in 5ps right at lunch time. I bet I'd go ballistic if I saw that. I wouldn't actually say anything - oh god no: too much risk of getting smacked in the face. No, instead I'd run home to a darkened room and write what I would like to think would be a cutting and vicious blog entry, before eating my dinner directly from a mug. Anyway, the point is that that's Friday planned - annoy everyone at the bank. I ain't got nowt for the evening but, me being me, I suspect I'll be drunk and/or apologetic by the end of it: I count the weeks in embarrassing yet gratifying aberrations on the face of my soul.
DING!
Associates, I urge you - perhaps urge is too strong a word - I order you to listen to the 99p Challenge on radio 4 on Wednesdays: is comedy radio at its best.
DONG!
I gotta get on with stuff now. Sat and Sun are, as ever, DOWN time. Means telly, books, music and fooooooood.
Apologies!
tpem

2004-08-31T15:34:00.000Z

Hoy!
But that's beside the point, because today I'm going to talk about petrified hands - or LACK OF THEM.
You see, there has been a distinct lack of petrified hands in my life to date and, yesterday, in my ignorance, I'd rather hoped to redress the balance.
Tcha! (a word I don't use lightly) No such luck!
Perhaps I am moving too fast for some of you: gawd knows some of you are a little bit dim eh, cocky, so, please, allow me to explain:
There is, in Salisbury a hand: a petrified hand to be precise. This hand was found, in a pub, by builders in the 1800s, and is thought to be very old. The hand was still clutching a HAND of cards when it was found; it is now on display in the pub. It was with a view to seeing this hand, you see, that I was keen for a family trip to Salisbury on Monday. A chance, if you will, to try out some of my "hand" puns. You see, a work colleague, last week, was boasting and being a frightful wig, at his having seen the hand, and us having not seen it, and I was filled with much jealousy and hatred you see
Did we look for the hand?
Christ! Did we look for the hand he asks? Far and wide me old son, far and wide.
Did you find the hand?
Christ! Did you hear what he asked me?
Listen! All I ask for in life is the odd tearful welcoming committee, an occasional victory parade and, every now and then, a petrified hand in a pub. But do I get regard? You must be joking. You'll end up in the nut house if you carry on like this any longer young fella me lad; just you watch where you're headed mate. No hand no nothing. A complete disaster. A bleedin catastrophe from beginning to end. No hand whatsoever: it's all very well you sat there all la-de-da; like one o'clock half struck; like Lord Cribble-de-dee of Cripple gate yes, but what about me eh? Eh? Have you seen it? Where's me petrified hand?
So yeah, we couldn't find that hand, which was a shame because, er, I really wanted to see the hand.
Well...there it is!
But Sandy Toksvig is very rude you know. (seamless link)
Very rude that Sandy Toksvig. I included her name on a circular telling her than my mate, who she has never met, has changed her email address. Well, I figured old Sandy had a right to know if my mate has changed her email address. Who am I to try and hide the fact from her?
Did she thank me for such courteousness? No. She was back on the wireless today, didn't even mention a word of thanks.
So...there it is!
But there's plans afoot for my bathroom you know.
[pause for effect]
I'm either going to hang up, on the wall, a picture of all the different kinds of knots you can get, or all the different kinds of butterflies you can get, or a bunch of Victorian advertisements.
So...there it is.

2004-08-29T13:59:00.000Z

Allo.
Yesterday was cool. We went into town and Chris and I went to ‘Carsons Steam Fairground’. Hoping that their laissez faire attitude to apostrophes did not equally apply to nuts and bolts, we both had a go on the Dive Bomber. Was amazing man; all of the rides were powered by steam; really scary (I was giggling like a little girl throughout most of the ride) for that fact alone, but this ride itself was quite intense, and we had some truly spectacular views of the Thames and of St Paul’s as we twisted and twirled in the air; fantastic.
Then we went to the Tate Modern; we wanted to go the Hopper exhibition but it cost £9 and they reckoned that, it being so popular, we wouldn’t get in until 20:00! (that’s eight o’clock for those without a military background). We just couldn’t be arsed, and said as much. The dynamo room has lost that ‘weather experiment’ thing that I loved and they’ve replaced it with a bunch of marble busts and a video of some guy screaming; I found it all really unimaginative - you get much better stuff right outside on the South Bank. For instance, we saw this one thing that really impressed us: one of those statue guys who stand still for ages, but this guy had dressed himself up as a commuter and was holding the pose of being in mid stride while dashing for a train. What was particularly clever about it was he had put wire in his clothes so it looked like his tie was flapping behind him and his clothes were being pulled by the wind, and his hair was gelled back like it was being blown. The overall effect was literally like a moment frozen in time - not unlike those Capital FM adverts a while ago (London is static without). Stuff like that, I feel, is what gets people’s interest aroused: videos of guys screaming I can, in general, take or leave.
So we went about the place a bit and did what is the ultimate in naffness - took the piss and generaly remained cynical. I appreciate how hundreds of types just like us must pass through every day and make all the same jokes, and nobody, on hearing it, would ever be impressed, but I ask you, is it any worse than sitting there, watching some stupid little man scream, with a pretend look of comprehension? This stuff is condescending and pretentious and it is an insult to the imagination: to tolerate it is a compromise. So we left.
We tried to get into St Paul’s but it was closed for business. At this I laughed: Winchester cathedral has a late license and regular lock-ins. Superior, I felt, in all of the most important respects.
Then we met up with Cath and Rob and Pritt at Camden Lock. It was really nice. Surly staff and quite busy, but really nice. They have all these steps everywhere which, I reckon, is their method of controlling how drunk you get - have over a certain amount and you will be physically unable to get to the bar until you’ve sobered up a bit. Then we went to the Dublin Castle and had a couple more. This horrible man in filthy clothes was drinking there. I went to the bar and saw this skin-head drop some money: this tramp bends down and picks up a pound. Skin-head goes
“Oi mate, you just take my pound?”
This tramp shrugs.
“Give me my pound back.”
At this point the barmaid comes over with the tramp’s drinks and he gives her some money, turns to the skin-head and goes
“It’s gone now anyway.”
Skin-head goes,
“Yeah well, we’ll see.”
and walks off. Degenerates man. Over a flippin pound? This isn’t the tuck shop at school.
So after that we got back to Surbiton and, while waiting for the bus, had a Village Pizza (just too delicious) and then made some friends at the cab rank. I had no idea like I could talk like I knew something about boxing, but we seemed to be able to muddle through a conversation about how Harrison “’ain’t produced the magic innit.” without showing our complete ignorance.
Nice.
Watched that program where they reveal magician’s secrets. Bloody love that show. I just love that show so much. I was in perennial delight. Fell asleep infront of it actually. Woke up this morning to James O’B’s last Sunday show and, to my delight, it featured Mrs. O’B too. She seems nice. Quite funny. I drifted in and out of consciousness while listening, eventual listening to that guy from channel 4 news and then finally roused my arse up out of bed. Wrote a quick short story, the idea for which occurred to me yesterday, and then started on this here blog entry. Roast dinner for, er, dinner tonight, and we’re going to rent a video. I was hoping to see either Motorcycle Diaries or Super-Size Me, but can’t find a cinema where they are on.
C’est la vie.
Now I’d better go because I am at risk, in the words of Rob, of trying to document every insignifcant thought that I have ever had: a depressingly small entry if that is indeed the case.

2004-08-28T14:36:00.000Z

Ohhh my head.
It hurts; I can't move because the poison mercury will spill and slosh all over the God damn place for chrissake. Mercury egg is what I'm tawking about...Jesus wouldya tone it down a bit huh? I got a God damn headache here. It's in my head Shwartz.
Well maybe it is not that bad. There there. In fact I'm now pretty much over my God damn hangover, which is no bad thing I can flippin' well tell you. The main problem is I am bloody knackered because we didn't get in till 4. God knows how we managed that, sounds a bit screwy to me you phoney bastard. When the bar closed we went to a restaurant to continue the God damn evening. I had some brushetta you creep, and I know we had wine too so you can shove that up your flippin’ arse. Ended up ->Wimbledon->Surbiton->Chessington.
Today I went to Merton with mum to get some BREAKFAST (with a capital B, and I ate it ate fast so screw you).
Chris showed me how to use his synthesiser and software stuff: I love it man. For a while now I've been thinking what a cool hobby it would be. I might just take it up, when I get the money (along with photography, film making and money laundering).
If you're wondering why I went to the trouble of putting bad language and dodgy accents throughout this thing then I dunno what to tell you. The only reason I have for you is that I thought it might be interesting and cool; guess that kind of backfired. Can't say I'm bothered.
Am I bothered?
No but...no but...no but am I bothered?
Just about to set of to Tate modern and then go to Camden. After that who knows! I need a good day in bed with a book man: Sunday is calling! But I got to mow the lawns so already I know I'm going to have to get dressed at some point :-(
So far Southampton is 1-1! See how it goes.

2004-08-27T15:56:00.001Z

W'sup.
This is either going to work or I'm going home (I was talking to my computer there, not to you).
As you can tell, I got that Friday feeling - not to be confused with a heart attack. There are so few people at work at this hour on a Friday bank holiday weekend that everyone can hear my typing: is very obvious that I'm not programming. One of the reasons that it is so obvious is that normally, when I'm programming, I'm constantly insulting myself with stuff like
"Oh you idiot!"
or
"No no no not that no no."
and then I hit myself in the face and stuff. Tough love. I am, without a doubt, the world's worst computer programmer; I am the equivalent to programming as circus clowns are to window cleaning: in short, I fall on my arse in a variety of contrived and hilarious ways. There's nothing in that bucket, just glitter - a metaphor for the contents of my head. Is prob why they keep me about the place. In actual fact most of my clothes are way too big for me. Anyway, enough of this, or I will get depressed before I've even started drinking! At least give the others a fighting chance to get depressed with you young stallion (did I just refer to myself as a stallion? I don't think anybody noticed).
Believe it or not, that code did work, so now I'm going home.
Bye.

2004-08-27T15:56:00.000Z

2004-08-26T20:52:00.000Z

Is it me, or does the London borough of "Sunhill" suffer from an improbable epidemic of organised crime?
Every time I turn on that show it is some ex-Eastender trying desperately to look menacing. Stick to kids chucking trolleys in the canal lads, or vice versa (gives me an idea for a story that).
So, from depressing London to depressing Bradford in that ever-so-controversial documentary 'Edge Of The City': put me right off my drugs and prostitution that did. I'd rather watch a good episode of Morse any day. It isn't nice though is it.
I've just finished the final (I'm hoping) draft of my first short story in ages. I also took the red pen to one that I wrote a few months ago and hope I've made it a bit better; basically I put a big thick red line right through it - a vast improvement.
Apart from that....
Stuff and then some, and not just the new kind.
This weekend I'm going to Londinium. Clapham (I seem to be drawn to Clapham) with Cat and some of her work mates. On Saturday I'm going to see Cath and Rob and one of their uni mates in Camden. During the day me and Chris are going to have a look at the Hopper exhibition. On Sunday I just want to lie in bed and read: I'm going for the record of not getting dressed (never quite lasted a whole day). Monday I'm going to Salisbury with my mum - I've been wanting to go to Salisbury for ages now.
Have a good one.

2004-08-23T19:55:00.000Z

Check out my ascii creation

********* ******** * * * *
* * * * * * ** *
* * * * *** *
* ******** * *

----?

2004-08-23T19:54:00.000Z

Look sharp!Failing that, look like you WANT to be scruffy.(bound to start working for me soon)Alright, so what do I have to say for myself this evening?
Nothing.He he.

2004-08-22T21:39:00.000Z

I've been listening to Genesis; probably best to get these confessions out of the way.
Now, being absolved, I'm going to talk about the events of the weekend, such as they are.
Edd came over on Friday. One beer turned into just way too many: so much so that, by the end of the evening, I (me) knocked over all of my potpourri all over the god damn floor and spent ages trying to pick it all back up. I shall shortly be writing a song about the experience: some sort of hard-core garage vibe I'm thinking. Urban licks.
So my carpet smells of apples and I smell of...me, which is much much worse, so I was understandably depressed by the next morning. Edd, who knows me well, accompanied me to the pasty shack in the morning and my spirits rose as my blood cholesterol soared, and then he left. I got shopping and, on coming home, I then experimented with Genesis.
Don't chose Genesis kids - choose life. A slippery slope of mediocrity, it only leads to other, more brainless bands and rapidly receding hairlines.
But I did other stuff during the day. I read some and spoke some, did loads man, so get outta my face. I went to see The Village with CP and Edd and kind of enjoyed it but thought that the twist - turns out they were all former members of the village people, come to escape infamy - was a bit lame. Gaps in the plot wider than my teeth. Throughout the whole thing I was shouting out
"Only gay in the village"
which got a laugh the first time but it seemed to dwindle after that. I wished I'd had my laser pen for an encore man, I would have walked out of that place with a wife.
That night I watched some crap and had bad dreams because.
But I was eating Craft Singles before hand and I had stashed my precious marbles in the mattress, so maybe that be why.
Next day I just bummed in circles (a most unfortunate but, nonetheless, accurate phrase) before my family came down. I say came, because I really mean drove. We went to a science museum outside of Winchester which was fun, in the same way that science museums are known to be fun. I'd like to take up entomology man: I could start in my bathroom.
After this did happen (and I'm fairly sure that it did happen - I find that it helps to write it down just before it does) something else happened - of that I'm certain.
We went to a bookshop and I got...whey!...a new Wodehouse book. Not new in the sense that it had just been written (unlikely - wigi board authors are anything but prolific), or new in the sense that it had never been owned before, because the marmite stains showed otherwise, but it was new in the sense that it was new, you see, so I told it like it was yup.
Oh yarr, yarrr (someone needs to bring back spitemimage by the way).
And then I had steak for dinner and that just silenced all my critics with one play. Was a genius manoeuvre - very embarrassing for the Prime Minister. Who would dare oppose my plans now, he wondered, as he picked at his scab [an excerpt from my new romantic novel].
And...I joined a cult.
I'm serious - I joined up http://www.join-me.co.uk
and my new name is now joinee Thomask (I did think of Herbet 92X but it had already been taken).
The stipulation is that you have to do a random act of kindness every Friday. I like that, but I won't.
Understand bird brain?
get out of my face (again).
Oh yeah – Southampton won at football and USA lost at basketball (to Lithuania no less)! Outstanding achievement in the field of excellence!

2004-08-20T13:08:00.000Z

Dinner of fish, pasta and a beer. I sat on my bed as I ate it; chewing and such and such. It became pressing for me to move my leg, at one point, on account of a spot cramp you see. It was just a spot of cramp mate - nothing more. Otherwise it was an uneventful nutrification.
Edd came over. We got a puzzle book and tried out a couple - one of them took us both almost an hour before we got it; echoes of depression.
Watched the film Miller's Crossing.
Oi - my approach for the weekend:
bottle of wine tonight.
books + java study tomorrow (am taking an exam in the new year) + cinema trip.
parents on Sunday.
In general I wanna mope about outside for as long as possible; I hope it doesn't rain.
This guy keeps walking past my desk - back and forth back and forth.
Annoying me now.
Tom.

2004-08-19T15:39:00.000Z

Ohhhh, Didlly diddly.
Have a loooonnnggg running test going on and can't get stuff done until it is finished so, well, here I am!
Just read back last night's entry and am struck by how callous I sounded: well I didn't mean it! I feel a bit guilty.
I have this urge to just go completely nuts today/this evening; either that or I'd like to find a library that's open late and go and read really old books or just look like I'm doing that but really I'm looking at everyone else.
Studying them.
I like going to libraries - especially libraries that are open late. We have a library here at work - is a nice old spot actually.
I used to love doing that back at university. If a subject was going badly then I'd make this big song and dance out of "gonna be a late one for me at the library tonight everyone", poor old me sort of thing, and I'd brew up a flask of coffee and get down there; almost immediately I'd get fed up and go home, but it did make me feel loads better about it. Once I opened my bag and found my flask had spilled everywhere - all my notes were covered in coffee and they stank: was grim. I opined to the referee but He wAs hAVing NOne oF iT.
But Winchester is one dead city (ridiculous that they call it a city) at night. There is nothing open late. This is because, at night, the statue of Alfred comes to life, and he slays any minion that dare venture into his Kingdom.
Slays them I say.
Man, was a bit low a minute ago right cos I had this meeting that didn't go quite how I would have liked, but then this guy just came over to me about something else I found out and he was really nice and grateful for it - I really respect this guy so it cheered me up a bit.
And what is also cheering me up is I'm going to be seeing Edd tonight for a bit of telly and a walk.
Sometimes I just like to exhale. I'd like life to move on in just one continuous exhalation; I'd like that wouldn't I.
From here to now,
from this to thou,
a breath a promise
a kiss and a vow.
You know what I mean? (mate)
And I'd do other stuff too! Amazing stuff that'd quench the world in one swift, er, fling. I'd do it now and to hell with the rest of 'em: all in good time and everything in its place. Everything in its rightful place.
And I'm right there you know.
And just don't you forget that sunshine.

2004-08-18T21:27:00.000Z

It’s a hard blog life

Allo!
Nah, I said allo – but that’s close enough
Excuses me please madam.
So I guess I’d better write something w.r.t. the last few days.
Pity.
Nah – they’ve been ok. Work is going ok; some quite cool stuff we’re finding; performance problems – mostly in my code.
The thing is, I don’t remember any of this code right, so I’m analysing this stuff and I’m thinking to myself “this is really bad code”, and then I come across a comment along the lines of

//we have to send this message to this destination because, of course, we
//don’t yet know if the destination is mediated and, to do otherwise, would just be //CRAZY!!!!

and, upon reading such a comment, I am fairly sure that it’s my code that I’ve been criticising. Is just CRAZY!!!
Nah, not quite that bad, you understand and, I should remember, I’m rejoining my old development team in a few days, so perhaps I shouldn’t dwell on this too much; for my own sanity’s sake.
But maybe my comments could be a bit less….obvious.
I mean, perhaps the code could do without the

//I’m bored

messages littered about the place.
Anyway; what else?
I got this letter, the other day, through the post: in actual fact, that’s how I generally receive all of my letters.
You get them that way too?
Well that’s just….grand.
Anyway…..
‘Twas from my Gran; contained some weird newspaper article that, quite possibly, was the least relevant article that she could have chosen from whatever paper she reads; something about some football commentator. Nice one! As if it wasn’t bad enough that Barclaycard and NTL send me junk through the mail but now my Gran has decided to get in on the action. Is she going to start trying to sell me life insurance? Or, better yet, a Stannar Stair Lift (which I could actually go for – enough of this analogue approach to stairs).

Yes…well…what else?
Oh yeah - my mum’s coming down on Sunday, so I gotta tidy up for that.
She came down to stay the other week, which was great…EXCEPT….she cleaned everything; I was living in someone else’s house for a few days.
She left and, low, I endeavoured to persist my presence about the place again and, in next to no time (can you read the pride in my words?) the place was a tip again.
Fine;
Great;
Surely this is the second law of thermodynamics at work – we’re talking entropy here man, alive and well in the wild! It’s my DUTY to make this place a mess.
Well…maybe…but the laws of physics never bargained on a mother’s scorn and, to my horror, she’s decided to come down again this weekend; if her schemes aren’t still in place AND functioning well, then I’m going to have some explaining to do.
Best get my lawyer’s wig on: always liked wigs myself – perhaps that’s been my problem all along.

Cor – if she’d gone that way she’d have gone straight to that castle.

2004-08-16T16:37:00.000Z

Hello!
Quite a positive day at work today - got some great feedback from one or two people. Quite a good Sunday too actually - I wrote a document, worked on two compositions (has only taken me 6 months to get one minute of music), went for a walk and read the papers. Allow myself a treat I did – big dinner!
Tonight I might work on a new story: had an idea at lunch. Is about a chicken sandwich that falls in love with its consumer. Nah, is not about that, but my real idea is almost as bad.
Oh yeah, The Singing Detective was fantastic - I really enjoyed it. Quite unrelenting but was well done. I kind of remember it from when it was TV a few years ago.
I'm off home; my dinner won't eat itself you know (or, at least, I hope that it won't).
Bub-ah-yew bye!

2004-08-15T11:04:00.000Z

Good night.
(music from Flower Duet)
Good morning.

However you look at it, the guy in those adverts is homeless. A well dressed, well travelled tramp.
Much like him, asleep in Piccadilly, I was woken up this morning by several external factors.

1) The church bells. People who go to mass are, by now, fairly familiar with the routine, so why they feel the need to advertise with god damn bells is a bit beyond me. Does it really attract that many more people who wouldn't be going anyway? Passers by:
"Erm...what the hell, why not?"
I mean, do they do it in the hope that some hung over semi naked bloke (much like myself) is going to hear them and think "ohhh - that's a good idea!"?
I think not.
My mum would think them charming, and so do I, to a certain extent, but this particular bell ringer was a might too enthusiastic for my liking: he was ringing for at least ten minutes; maybe it was the alter boy let loose on them. Actually, it reminds me of the time that my brother was an alter boy at the Holy Ghost church in Balham. He did what we had all been dying to do for AGES - operated the gong at that bit when they're blessing the communion. That gong had been just asking for it for a good few years, and now, with a McKiernan behind the wheel, it was sure as hell (an apt choice of words) going to get it. The first stroke was a bit tentative: a warm up swing if you will. The second, however, addressed the balance.
BANG
Was loud. See half the congregation jump, all the kids grin, but then comes the third, and this is just something else.
WHACK
The single loudest thing I had ever heard. Scared Jesus right off.
He was a terrible alter boy my brother; once he dropped the cross and Jesus' head came off and rolled along the floor. I think that was the point when he stopped, but I can't remember if it was by his choice or by a special dispensation from the pope. The Vatican have files on unruly kids you know (and on the most attractive ones too). Why did he do it in the first place? I think we all know the answer to that - because of that lie, that brazen bare-faced lie that parents feed their children in order to bribe them into doing boring stuff:
"It'll look good on your CV."
If anyone ever showed a CV where they bragged about being an alter boy I think they'd pretty firmly eliminate themselves from the running. Is it likely to be the deal breaker in any sort of negotiations?
But parents don't say that anymore. They've developed; adapted; evolved. Nowadays they say "It'll help you with your Big Brother audition."

2) Carpenters/builders at the school. They've been working on that school for a year now - constant building work. Thing is, there's no new buildings or evidence of their efforts. I think it is a bit like the wars in 1984 - doesn't matter who they're at war with, or why, but just the fact that they're at war is enough - good for the economy or some stupid reason like that. Maybe a constant building schedule gets them a larger budget or something. Or, maybe, the headmaster is a raving homosexual and he likes to surround himself with burly men.
"Making another cup of tea for the builders Giles?"
"Yes dear; go back to bed."
Anyway - they've stopped now, which is nice because NOW I'm wide awake (and writing this in actual fact).

3) I forgot to unset my alarm. At this point, with a weariness beyond my years, I rather gave up on the whole idea of sleeping and decided, instead, to try my hand at having a bath.

Friday Chris came round. Was a really nice evening. We went to the, er, pub! Yes, that's it. We had some dinner and a couple of pints, and then we went to see the Bourne Supremacy. Is a good film and all, but it really pisses me off when they use camera men who have Parkinson’s. Why the need for all this jerking around? You can't see the stunts properly. There they are, these actors, doing the most amazing stuff imaginable, and this dork camera man thinks it is clever to spend most of his time filming the floor. Fire that idiot now. It doesn't make it look or feel more real, it's just confusing. Who wants it to look real anyway - so have we all entered this darkened room and sat, in silence, looking at a wall for a dose of reality? Does he think that, if a building exploded across the road, passers-by would all start shaking their heads all over the place? No! Bloody have a bloody good gawp man - that's what I'd do. Stop and stare man, that's what you're paid for.
I saw, yesterday I think, a program "the making of" or whatever, and they showed loads of the stunts just from a single camera: raw footage, I suppose. Looked amazing. Show THAT you dunces! Looks much better. All this comes from Jon Woo's school of film: yes, let's take inspiration from a man who, despite having some of the biggest budgets in Hollywood, has barely one remotely watch-able film to his name.

So I work with all of this software all day at work, and occasionally, just occasionally, I get the bug; I start thinking how, actually, this stuff is dead cool, and what would be wicked is if I was to set it all up at home. I start to daydream about clustered servers, all in my bedroom, with JMS messages flying around and deploying EJBs and session beans and web services and linking to some bad-ass database and all administered remotely, and all of it somehow implementing some business idea that is constantly making me money with little or no effort from myself. End-to-end business logic: this is the kind of garbage vision that is preached at work.
And so I download some software and pigeon-hole some time at the weekend to have a little play.
Install something and, almost immediately, am confronted with the realisation that I have no idea what to actually do. No creative ideas whatsoever. What possible J2EE application, other than something stupid like an online CD catalogue, could I actually use and fine useful? There must be one - isn't there? I can do better than this....can't I?
No.
So I give it up as stupid and confine these activities to the legitimate work reasons that I'm supposed to.
It's the same with writing and with everything else. I nearly brought a book on WAP (or, I think, was really WML?) programming yesterday (it did look very cool) before I realised that
a) I have absolutely no need for a WAP-enabled web page to my name and
b) Most people have absolutely no idea how to use the WAP on their phone anyway.
I did end up programming this thing called a WorkEngine - I have these "commontools" things that I write in the hope that they'll help me at some point; it's kind of a portfolio of reusable code.
One day I'll publish them all in a book and some idiot walking past will go
"oh - reusable tools library - I'll buy that." and then be confronted with exactly the same problem as I was.

On Saturday, after my software session, I went, with Catherine, to the common. I am so good at the swings it is just ridiculous. I blew those other kids right out of the water. Then we had a drink and I got the train back, Lemon Jelly on my MP3 player the while (the superb-ness of their first album has been well documented).
Today I have some docs to read and some stuff to write for that liaison guy, I'll have some lunch in town and I have the film The Singing Detective to watch for this evening.
And I'll probably spend a bit of time trying to figure out how I turned one and a half uneventful days into one and a half uneventful pages.

2004-08-12T16:16:00.000Z

Hi,
How is it all going then?
Last night I discovered, to my infinite delight, that some Marks & Sparcs vouchers that I happen to posses, could be exchanged for food. I had to read the sentence on the back about three of four times before I was sure (the language is always so convoluted) but then, once I had convinced myself, the smallest of smirks crept across my face.
Marks & Sparks is hideously over priced - is complete over-indulgence to shop there - a larger smirk - but I have no choice: these vouchers must be redeemed. I shall have to console myself to a week of gourmet food! Some of it can cause quite horrendous indigestion you know.
Well it makes a change from eating pasta every night, and in actual fact I did try to spend my precious vouchers on cheap, sensible food.
I spent some of the night watching TV and quite a lot playing guitar.
I spent by far the majority of the evening reading (aloud) the part of Henry VIII from A Man For All Seasons: it is fantastic fun - all of those mood swings. The people downstairs are now convinced, more so than ever, that I, Thomas McKiernan, have no queen. Should they even dare to suggest such a thing I should berate them with furious arguments from Leviticus. I think I might behead them anyway...just in case there is any doubt.

Those clowns at Southampton didn't get back to me w.r.t. joining their society. What a bunch of clowns!

But I have just made contact with the liaison guy here at work and, pretty soon, I should be in a position to contact, through him, some of the course organisers at Southampton University: I have some suggestions that I'd like them to hear. Coincidentally, I'll be able to put the fact that I put forward these suggestions on my ranking evaluation. The liaison person was very receptive - a nice man - but then I suppose that is his job. Could be quite an interesting little side-avenue for me anyway; guess we will have to wait and see.

So keeping busy, but still bored on a monumental scale. I've been listening to Dizzy Rascal, which I purchased in the mistaken belief that it contained that song "I'm so diz-ee"
Not quite.
To be honest I'm not sure what to think. I think I quite like it.
I'm going home now.
I'll try to write something vaguely interesting next time. Promise!
Tom

2004-08-10T07:52:00.000Z

I'm waiting for a file to download, so I figured I would update my blog.
Today has been ok. My team is under quite a lot of pressure at the moment, so I'm working late (but not too late) most nights this week. It isn't really much of a problem because I want to save money and I've got nothing much to do back home, and it gives me a chance to familiarise myself with the various assortment of coffees available from our vending machine (haven't yet made a selection that actually tastes like coffee, but I live in hope).
So, anyway, I'll talk a bit about the weekend if that's ok with you.
Well, on Friday, Edd came over to Winchester; we had a laugh over a couple of jars and then we watched Big Brother (the annual progression of nonchalance to ironic viewing to avid watching has finished for another year), and then we listened to music into the small hours.
The next day we quickly went back to Southampton (Edd had forgotten something or other) before making our way to Surrey. We helped demolish my gran's fence (she didn't ask us to or anything - just thought it would be fun) and then put in the new one. In actual fact it was just a single fence panel, and we didn't help so much as watch, but we earned a cup of tea and a self satisfied exhalation that accompanies any manual task. We had some dinner at the usual place before we came back and went to Embankment for a bit (Northern line was dire so we just stuck around Waterloo). Had a beer at this private members bar called, for some reason, 'The Royal British Commonwealth Society'. It seemed nice and it seemed empty, so in we went.
"Two bottles of Pride please"
"Are you members?"
"Oh...no sorry."
Guy then goes and gets our beers - no problems. Presumably, if we had been members, we would have been asked to leave immediately. I'm guessing most of their cliental have been responsible for various atrocities in various small, African states at some point or other, so that a couple of scruffy-looking idiots like ourselves were a welcome change. Anyway, we figured we'd better go, so we went to (and I'm still thrilled to bits about this) The Sherlock Holmes Pub, which is just off The Strand (perfectly natural place to for it, what with Holmes living....nowhere nearby).
We drank some Sherlock Holmes bitter, which was marginally less clouded-over than Edd's eyes, as he settled in for yet another night of lectures upon various adventures, opinions and trivia concerning the world's most famous detective.
Then a train journey, perhaps akin to 'Murder On The Chessington Express' and then home for cake, sandwiches and lashings of tea.
Next day we went to Epsom Downs, one of my favourite spots, before going to Epsom town centre to share some lunch with every wasp in the world.
I wander what wasps must think of the human race.
I mean all they ever see of us is wildly flailing limbs and people doing that thing with their nose, where they purse their nostrils and exhale.
Then we went to see I Robot.
Wasn't bad actually.
Then Edd went off to Norwich and I had some dinner at home, and then basically got the train back to Winchester.
A very nice, relaxing couple of days.

I'm just a rascal!
Bloggy rascal.

2004-08-06T16:03:00.000Z

He he,
This weekend London zoo are running a scheme whereby anyone with red hair gets in for half price.
It is all in aid of some endangered monkey. The tenuous (some might say 'missing') link between the monkey and this publicity stunt is that the monkey is quite well known for having red fur.
It just struck me as funny.
Reminded me of this brilliant Sherlock Holmes story.
This corpulent pawn broken, who has a head of fiery red hair, calls in on Watson and Holmes to discuss the curious matter of the 'Red Headed League'.
It would seem that, several weeks ago, his 'able young assistant' drew his attention to a certain article in the paper which, we are told, reported an extremely well paid part-time position in the city. The only qualification required was that it was absolutely essential that the applicant had a full head of bright red hair.
The man's business is failing, so he goes along to the appointed building, with a view to obtaining an extra income.
The building is full of red headed men from all walks of life, all milling around and performing various jobs. The pawn broker is interviewed by a rather stern red headed man, who tells him that he is perfect for the job - his hair is the finest he has ever seen. The interviewer then goes on to explain that the league was set up years ago by an extremely rich (and not to mention eccentric) red headed man who, on his death bed, declared that all of his worldly wealth should be used so as to "advance the cause of the red headed man in London".
On accepting the position, the man's task is to enter the building every morning at exactly nine o'clock, and to not leave before one o'clock.
During this time, he is required to sit at a desk and diligently copy out the Encyclopaedia Britannica; to start at ‘A’ and to work his way through to ‘Z’.
At one o'clock, every day, he is paid handsomely for his troubles, and is then free to return to his business which, in his absence, has been run by his assistant.
When, after several weeks, the Red Headed League vanishes without trace, he consults Sherlock Holmes for answers.
The answer is that the entire thing has been concocted by his assistant; it is all an ingenious method by which he can secure the freedom to pursue his felonious plans - the pawn brokers is adjacent to a bank, and he has been busy digging a tunnel these last few weeks while his master performed his ridiculous task.
I love that, I think it's brilliant.
See you!
Tom.

2004-08-04T10:36:00.000Z

Hi,
'Ow U Doin?
Last night mum and I went to the pub for a massive dinner. Then we watched telly while I had to work on trying to get this rubbish build to function (I later found out that all the builds since two weeks ago have been completely shafted). Then mum wanted to see The Elephant Man. That's a sad film - normally end up talking about comparative bus service punctuality in various different counties, just to avoid concentrating on those final scenes. Some quality acting throughout; was remarkable good fortune that they found someone so ugly to play the lead part, though I can't help but think he's going to be type-cast somewhat.
But Jeese man, after watching that, for once, you will feel pretty damn good about yourself in the mirror. I admired myself for a good five minutes while brushing my teeth.
"I am beautiful! See the absence of horrific protrusions!" I exclaimed, although, what with the tooth brush in my mouth it was more along the lines of
"Ah am beuifel! She da abshenche of howwic pwofushions!" (which, on inspection, is not unlike how The Elephant Man would say it - though it'd have to be a lot more ironic coming from him).
Was a nice evening. She's in my flat right now though; milling around. I'm more than a little concerned I can tell you.
She'll buy me dinner tonight (again! he he) and then I'll see her off, and then it is DVD o'clock - she brought along with her some DVDs from my brother.
Cool - enjoy yourselves!
Tom

2004-08-03T11:52:00.000Z

Hi there,
Looking forward to this evening - my mum is coming to stay. This may well mean lots of free food, and other such delights, to be showered upon my good old self.
I'm not really sure what the plan is, but I'm sure we'll figure out some interesting stuff to do: if there is one thing Winchester has in abundance, it is historic/scenic spots that are perfect for entertaining parents - it has no busses, cash machines or shops that sell anything other than size 7 shoes, but it does have an old church and a statue of King Alfred (size 9 shoes).
But I always get nice things when mum comes to visit.
Back at uni, my mum had a notion that, on a daily basis we, as a house, would drink a quantity of tea comparable to India's anual production quotient. Multiple trips to the car, with each of her visits, to get these boxes and boxes of tea.
"I brought you some tea!" she would needlessly announce, as I stuggled under the burden of her laiden Sainsbury's bags. "I know you all like it."
Tea and coffee tea and coffee: obscene amounts! Had I drunk even half of it I would never be able to sleep again.
But if she stopped then I'd complain.
I've been spending a bit of time shoving all the stuff I don't want her to see into my bedroom: I've camoflaged it all under a canopy of unused tea bags.
So what else? Nothing, or at least very little. I have new taps in the bathroom - is perhaps the sexiest thing I have ever seen. I had soup for lunch - that was slightly less sexy, but I sexed it up by way of croutons. Now it is dead sexy: as am I, what with soup spilt all down my shirt and all round my mouth.
Mmmmmmm.
Maybe I'll go to see King Arthur with mum. I just don't know.
I'll think I'll sit back and write a nice long blog tomorrow eve, but for now I've gotta press!

2004-08-01T11:19:00.000Z

Hi boss,
Hoooooow you doin' anyway?
Man, kind of tired.
I was woken this morning by various parts of my anatomy: all competing, in their own inimitable ways, for my immediate and urgent attention.
My biological processes aside, as they frequently are, the weekend, thus far, has been really nice. Friday was a bit of a rubbish day at work; I don't really want to go into details, but I got slightly stressed by one or two things that were just completely unnecessary. I had a really nice Thursday evening though, and was really looking forward to the weekend. The train carriage was hot & stuffy, the seats were scarce, the train forty minutes late (!!) and, most annoying of all, this cretin, this absolute lump of denim, decided to scroll, one by one, through all of his mobile phone's ring tones - perhaps in search of his missing chromosomes. It was enough to make me cry with rage, but at least, I suppose, it meant that I didn't fall asleep.
I had a nice quiet evening watching Elephant with Chris and mum. Is an interesting film, but it takes a few liberties with the strictly known truth (as far as I’m aware) and we couldn't really figure out why it felt the need to do that. It had quite a 'just out of film school' vibe to it (i.e. shoddy film making) that I always quite like - provided it isn't taken too far.
There is only one pillow on my bed back here. It is always weird sleeping in a bed with a different pillow configuration though: I woke up with a completely dead arm! I lifted it with my other hand and tried to lay it flat, but it swung off the bed and hit the floor with a thud. The remainder of the night proceeded without incident.
On Saturday, Chris and I went to Kingston to shop for CDs. I got an absolutely fantastic Herbie Hancock album that has one of the tracks from Jaco's debut (one of my all time favourites that) and also some Joni Mitchell and some Massive Attack. I'm sure the cash machine made a sarcastic comment when I withdrew the money, to the effect that there's very little nutrition in CDs and that I might be better off spending the money on groceries, but I rose above it. There is plenty of nutrition in nutri-grain bars (hence the name you see) and if I pop enough centrum tablets I'll be a paradigm of dietary perfection. Licking the ribbon on printer cartridges is an excellent source of mercury: now if you'll excuse me I must go and invade Russia.
(you see because Napoleon had mercury poisoning...I think)
Family reunion on Saturday afternoon with lots of people I haven't seen in ages. Some lively discussions and lots of food - was very nice.
Today we'll go for a pub lunch and then I'll probably go for a walk with Cat and Chris in the Oxshott woods.

2004-07-29T17:59:00.000Z

So, what else?
Well, I have to say, I’m really enjoying Eats, Shoots & Leaves. Really enjoying it: I don’t think I have enjoyed a book so much since reading Moominland In Midwinter when a fiver fell out from between two of the pages. Just who, in my family, was in the practice of using legal tender as a book mark, was never really discovered; if it had been, I certainly would have borrowed more of their books. However, reading it is a bit like witnessing a car crash; only in this case the mangled up car is your own hideous ignorance. Honestly, each turn of the page is like peeling away yet another misconception - my fuzzy knowledge clarified. It is quite embarrassing: I’m sure I could send her this blog as material to illustrate every single one of the mistakes she identifies. It could probably be the inspiration for her next three books: “Don’t Chew With Your Mouth Full”; “Do More Work You Lazy Bum” and finally “You Always Talk About Cleaning, But Your Flat Is Still A Tip – Why?”.
Mistake’s like (the) ones i Used-to, make, are a: “thing of the past!”.
(and yeah, I know, trying to put things right now is a bit like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted, and most likely the above passage is both hideously overdoing it and, tragically, still completely wrong, but the point is I’ve decided to at least try and change my ways a bit; get a bit less sloppy; internalise her guidelines and try to apply them and, hopefully, in time, they will become second nature).
Y..y..yeah, and I’m going to learn Yoga too.
As Chris often points out, you always know that it’s summer when I have some stupid new scheme that is doomed to failure (due to heroic neglect) from day one. At university I used to call it my “shelf of good intentions”. That shelf had all of the various books, artefacts (like my harmonica) and “project log books”, which I never tired of telling people about, that all never quite made it to my “pending” pile, which was equally huge.
Eventually, it became the “desk” of good intentions, before finally the “everything I own” of good intentions. I really hope…I really hope that my new washing machine doesn’t join the ranks.
But just who do I think I am kidding? People don’t change: they just get better at hiding how much they’ve stayed the same. I don’t need a washing machine! That’s the last thing I need. What I need is a larger laundry bin.
And there, I think, goes my last shred of hope ;-)

2004-07-29T16:31:00.000Z

Serious now,
that darn bird thing (I'm now fairly convinced that it is a raven) woke me up about fifteen times last night.
So I'm gonna smear tuna all about the place and attract all the local cats to the area.
Hmmm - thinking about it, cats can be quite loud too.
Ok, smear tuna all about the place, THEN smear Winalot all over the place, and thereby attract all the local dogs.
Hmmm, thinking about it....this could go on for quite some while. End up with Siberian tigers prowling round, me up on the fire escape terrified to go down - prisoner in my own home.
Animal noises - how irritating.
There are some kennels in Chessington quite near our place. I occasionally walk past and shout
"WALKIES!"
He he - you should hear the noise. When we first moved in there we heard all this barking in the distance and we tried to figure out why it was so loud. We were entertaining a "catastrophic escalation" theory, whereby one solitary dog had barked, sparking off all the other dogs in the South London area. Kind of like in a New York traffic jam, when one person honks his horn and suddenly everyone goes nuts: I love that - it strikes me as particularly funny.
Chessington’s weird too though because, of course, the World Of Adventures produces lots of noise. Generally, you can't hear it at all but, when the wind blows in the right direction, you suddenly hear hundreds of voices screaming in mortal terror. You look up from your book, more than slightly confused, and then just as quickly the wind changes direction and all is silent.
"Did anyone just hear that?" (a worried quality to your voice)
Not only that but, and this is true, sometimes at night, just in the distance, you can hear sea lions barking. How cool/irritating is that?

I just joined up (or enquired at least) of an acting society in Southampton. They play at Motisfont Abbey, the Tudor Merchant's House (which confused me - there is a Tudor House and the Medieval Merchant's House, so it could be either of those two, but my guess is that it is Tudor House), so that might be quite interesting.

Tonight I'm going to do some washing up, some washing down, and then I'm going to have a bath.
Proddle - is a very good word. Just saw it as the name of some code.

2004-07-28T22:46:00.000Z

Ohhh, I should really proof read this stuff a bit more vigorously; last post I spelt “Aussie” with an ‘O’ :-(
Thing is, I generally do it at work (the blog that is, not accusing Australia of being “Ostralia”). Now, that really isn’t a problem, because there is generally some task of the day that involves waiting around for preposterous amounts of time for some petulant little system to finish some pointless and mundane task, but it still doesn’t look great if your manager comes over to talk to you about a defect and finds you’ve got a window open with
“feeling LAZY, can NOT be bothered to do any work, lunch etc bored etc” (and all that other crap that I write) so, consequently, I rush it. I write it all on a window that can’t be seen on the screen and then offer it to the spell check to get rid of the biggies (like the word ‘biggies’ which, before it was just corrected by the spell checker just now, had been spelt “Tom_McKiernan_wears_women’s_underwear” – Freudian typo?) and publish. So I apologise for my mistakes is what I’m saying.
ANYWAY
The reason I bring it up NOW, after God’s knows how many previous errors, is two fold (oh good – let’s get comfy).
One: I’ve just started reading (and loving) “Eats, Shoots And Leaves”, and am consequently being made painfully aware of just how illiterate I truly am.
Two: I’ve just started writing this document for work, and am consequently being made painfully aware of just how illiterate I truly am.
But this document is getting me quite excited. It’s off my own back (surely I’d have a desk for writing?), so no pressure – matter of fact nobody knows I am doing it until I tell them. Hopefully it will help with old CV yadda yadda yadda. The main reason I’m doing it is to keep from going nuts.
TOO LATE (yadda yadda yadda)
However, the problem is that I keep descending into my blog writing style (if you can call it ‘writing’ or, indeed, a ‘style’).
It’s a serious problem.
I start a sentence in a technical style, and then I end it sounding like one of So Solid Crew or something (although I’m rather flattering myself there me thinks).

The track, when integrated, will only be incorporated into the build when all preceding tracks have also entered the ‘integrate’ state – it’s proper mental bruv. ANYWAY
Once all tracks have entered the integrate state, it is absolutely vital….

So Solid - I’ll end up getting stabbed in Aya Napa.
More likely I’ll get heart burn somewhere round Basingstoke.

I think you get the idea. If you don’t then….I don’t know, smile and lick your lips.
You’ll either look sexy or dippy – either way people will be nice to you.
I’m sure I had a point to this post but, like so many that have gone before it, it vanished in a puff of self-indulgent rubbish.
So until the next post – goodbye!

2004-07-28T13:52:00.000Z

E-blog-pus call your mother.
Last night me and Chris rather stumbled upon the fabled nest of Winchester's alterna-youth contingent. There was this band that Chris knows playing there - had come from Hertfordshire! Was more of a social club for these half metal, half wella kids, all groping each other in their leather corsets and trying, as hard as possible, to get as drunk they could before (this is true) their mums came to pick them up. Also met the most obnoxious ozzie that it has ever been my misfortune to encounter. We were also, over the course of the evening, witness to a dwarf, who did this continual jig - was like something out of Spinal Tap. Anyway, some of the music was really good and, all in all, I had a really nice night. The pizza we had was 100% love at first bite and, just between us, we had a couple of jars too. Don't judge - you weren't there WOGAN.
Watched Alan Partridge when we got back, and then we fell asleep to the sound (glad Chris was here to verify I'm not going mad) of this weird animal (think it's a bird) that is trapped down at the bottom of my garden, where it occasionally skwarks. SOUNDS like a bird but it is coming from the ground so I dunno, maybe it is a pterodactyl, or that eagle thing from Harry Potter (J.K.'s imagination really knows no bounds - looks like an eagle, slightly bigger, or, game with broomsticks, no real point, in this latest book EVERYONE is a warewolf). 'Ain't my problem, and I don't want to go investigating because, as luck would have it, the sound is coming from right by the downstairs neighbour's windows - they MIGHT think I was taking an interest in their, er, nocturnal activities. Hey man, for all I know this "trapped bird" is an integral part of their nightly fun and games.
Quoth the raven...."blogger more"

2004-07-27T11:58:00.000Z

Blog 101

urrgghh
just....urrgghhh
Know what I mean bruv?
Well is good to be back. I now have one completely defective shoulder due to a burst of over-zealousness in a game of swing-ball. I love that game. Problem is now, were I to play tennis, I'd be more likely to hit the ball sideways then forwards, towards my opponent. But I'm not going to play tennis, ever, and even if I did, and my opponent was stood perpendicular to the direction of my swing, there'd still more than likely be someone that I don't particularly like stood to my side. Wherever there's people there's opponents, so far as I am concerned.
Anyway, saw Shrek 2, which is very funny. I went like this:
haw haw haw
and then I went like this:
he he he
was amazing.
So now that I'm all old and wise (and all that cal), I did come in of a morning with much regality (not a word) oh my brothers and, as such, I did walk through those same aisles and cubicles of my very office, offering a slight royal wave to those plebs assembled.
"I am mature and wise - behold me" I seemed to say.
Chris might be coming round tonight to see this band. I hope he does - would be cool. Last night was pure indulgence - now I must/should make amends.
Cat and Edd cooked me a birthday cake which was very sweet - both the cake and the act. Cheers!
I now have a dressing gown that bends - is sooo clean. I've been cleaning loads of stuff these last few days, on account of my new washing machine and all. No more spraying deodorant on my clothes and hoping for the best. Never again will I whack a sock until all of the germs are either killed or scarred into submission. You're a complete bell-boy if you think that you'll ever see me wearing my school rugby jersey into work again (I was tackled by the janitor as soon as I got in the door, to much jeering from my team). Who do you think you are anyway.
I’m reading quite a good book at the moment. Also been looking into whether I would like to do an MBA or not – answer=no, I wouldn’t.
I think I will post again before the end of today - is going to be one of those days I think. Have a pleasant day.

Rock your blog baby.
S..s..stop that.

2004-07-25T09:56:00.000Z

I ‘aint afraid no blogs.
My 100th blog entry! And to think, people said it would amount to nothing more than trivial, repetitive gibberish. That's not what they say now though. Nowadays they say "Ha! It has amounted to nothing more than trivial, repetitive gibberish."
Well, prepare to be trivialised my friend.
It also happens to be my birthday today! A remarkable coincidence (almost as though 'twere planned c'est ne pas?). So let me take you through my week since my last entry, in the hope that this affords you some small degree of pleasure.
On Wednesday I went for evening's delight at Fulham Promenade. The King's Head in actual fact, where my brother and I played a "Paradigm" gig in our younger day. I completely spaced out on stage - kept playing the same section over and over (while thinking about dinner or something like that) and my brother had to come over and kick me to get me to finish the song. One always wonders what would have been had I received no such external stimulus - would I still be there, be-webbed with cobs on my figure, my fingers to stubs away-worn?
Yes.
Thursday I went tooooo Kingston (da-daaa) for lunch with mum. Then I went, avec Rich, Kev and Ant, to Islington to see Chris play at The Carling Academy. Some genius had the bright idea to close Angel for the Thursday rush hour, so it was a bleeding odyssey getting there, but get there we did, and we caught the last sections of their set which sounded great - especially the finale. We stayed there and had a good night. Tube back to South Wimbledon, with much fun and games on the way, and then a night bus, by way of a Tesco express sandwich (to a vacant stomach), to a vacant bed in a vacant room of Kev's house.
Friday I spent listening to this Wagner opera that I got - is 14 CDs and only cost me (mum) £5. I know not what to think of it to be honest. I got it because I figured that both opera and Wagner were pretty huge gaps in my education. I've never really enjoyed opera, and I'm not exactly Wagner's number one fan (other day I caught him with this fountain pen that was just like mine that went missing – we had words), but from what I've heard so far it isn't too bad, so maybe I was a little hasty in both. Not sure yet.
In the evening we went out to The Strand with Jen. Found some nice bars and had a really good laugh. Burger King on the way back (didn't I start this holiday with the intention of healthy eating?). We saw Thunderbird 3! It was parked in Trafalgar square - was pretty darn cool man.
Exactly a year ago, to the day, we had a very similar night out in Putney - I like it when things are symmetrical like that. We rode in the cattle truck train back home - sat on the floor in the guards carriage, was a joke.
On Saturday Chris and I went to check out this Buddhist temple in Wimbledon, but we couldn’t find it so we went to Canizaro (sic) park instead. Sat on the common for a bit. THEN we got supplies as the family came round and we went for a big old slap up meal - very nice. Good food, enjoyed by all!
Sunday (is today) and John and mum are giving me a lift to Winchester.
Gunpowder treason and blog.

2004-07-21T08:00:00.000Z

Scratch paper, a cork pops, static wash and clenched eyes.
I saw this blog the other day.

Last night I saw Spider Man 2 with Rob and CP. I liked it for all of the science bits – AI and all that. I love a bit of AI. I studied some at university actually but I think I missed the lecture on evil Robotic Arms. It’s annoying because there was actually a question on them in the exam.
“Given that Searle has attached evil robotic arms to himself, and has hence stolen Alan Turing’s pen, explain why you took this rubbish course in the first place and how you could possibly pass.”
That course was a joke (a recurring joke for me and Edd) but there were loads of jokes in the film too – Bruce Campell was really funny.
But for Crissakes, WHEN are people going to learn that you check your positronic phase calculations BEFORE you start your sustained fusion reactions. BEFORE! BEFORE! My mumma always said:
“Tom, don’t talk to strangers, don’t talk to me and, when initiating sustained fusion reactions, ALWAYS check the positronic….” Etc.
My mumma used to say a lot of things.
She’s much better now.
Ok, tomorrow I’m meeting Paco for a drink in Victoria. Kevin and Rich are meeting me at home for a meal. Afterwards I really fancy a night out, so hopefully we can get some people together. If Rich is coming then that shouldn’t be too hard :-) I’d rather Wimbledon than Kingston because Kingston is really expensive and hardly anyone will come (some of those guys back home rarely stray from Wimbledon).
Thursday me and mum are having lunch and then I go to Chris’ gig in Islington.
Friday I’m going for a walkabout, but in the evening I hope to do something - Chris was talking about going to The Strand in the evening so it would be cool to do that.
Saturday my family are all coming down for a meal – looking forward to that.
Sunday is my actual birthday itself (I’m still 21 - how young am I?) and then either I’ll get a lift back to Winchester or a meal with Sam (my cousin, who I haven’t seen in ages). Dunno what to do in the evening.
I got Monday off too, so I figure I will go down to the Southampton docks for a bit, because I really like it round there.
But I like anywhere that has a bit of rusty metal and or anything vaguely interesting to look at. I happen to think Eastleigh is an interesting place.
They’re playing that Dirty Dancing CD on Big Bro. This is like looking into the crystal ball. Bit depressing.
I better get dressed before those delivery guys get here.
Or on second thoughts….

Blog me – I'm a doctor

2004-07-20T07:30:00.000Z

Shall I compare thee to a Sum-blog's day?
A couple more days like today, my friend, would be okay by me. What it is to spend a day with no deadlines, no responsibilities, no jobs (except for those you choose). Fantastic.
Let me take you through it all. It won't interest you, but I like stuff like this anyway. I just like the sound of my own keyboard to be honest. I'm sure you knew that already.
I spent the first half of the day cleaning. First the living room. I had already sorted that out a little bit so it didn't take very long. Then I went on to clean the bathroom and then the kitchen. Then lunch in front of Friends, but it wasn’t a very funny episode. Boy Friends can be so variable. Some laundry (as it was a very good drying day) and then I made a call about that tap - was all set to fix for tomorrow but then they rang me up at 4, the dude has gone off sick. Annoying. This gives me Wednesday or next Monday as alternatives, either of which works quite well, but they said they would be happy to do evenings to kind of compensate me, which is also nice.
Chris gave me a lunch time call - we shot the crap until Neighbours finished, which was nice. Chris – fancy same tomorrow (if I’m about)?
Then I did some exercises and then I went swimming. The problem with going at that time is that everyone is either 15 years old, or else is some decrepit geriatric - either way they're better than me. Is quite annoying actually - those grannies could just swim up and down all day, and that is exactly what they do. They can't walk down the high street without stopping, at random, at the most inopportune place, and they could fumble for Great Britain at Marks and Spencer’s, but they're in their element in the water.
When I go swimming I spend most of my time fiddling with my goggles and, at the risk of sounding like a Mr Bean sketch, my shorts were far too lose (they were in real danger of falling down with each push-off) so I kind of developed a rather unusual stoke, whereby one hand was continually clamped to my arse. I think it is the hope of observing a situation much like this that motivates all the grannies to stay for so long. But the sad fact is that swimming is really a bit dull. I heard of a scheme whereby they would install underwater speakers in pools to at least give you something to listen to, because sound is supposed to travel better in water and all, but I've never heard any sound under water other than the human voice, which of course doesn't work, so I have no point of comparison. That was the idea anyway.
Anyway, after my little meandering the other day w.r.t. Seal (I'm sorry I write such rubbish, I always read it back several days later and just wince) I decided to go and rub Her Majesty’s nose on an HMV employee’s palm in exchange for one of his CDs. I have the first one already so I got the one with 'Kiss From A Rose' on it. Now I love that song, really love it, but there are some even better songs on that album. More low key, which is where he is strongest I feel - these simple but really powerful chord progressions, and he does his lines over the top and gives the session musicians loads of space to fill their stuff. Imagine my surprise to see none other than Lawrence Cottle and Joni Mitchel as guest musicians on it. Oh you...oh ok...well I was very surprised to see none other than Lawrence Cottle and Joni Mitchel as guest musicians on it.
He was also saying this stuff, and I really agreed with it, that it is better if you don’t know the lyrics because when you don’t know what they are then you kind of make up what you want to hear, and the song is much better for it – so he basically ADMITS he sings gibberish and I was right all along.
Then me and Rob went to Loche Fyne, which is a really really nice fish restaurant in Winchester. It’s actually a chain – Edd’s been to one in Norwich. One of the best dinners I have had in a very long time. I mean, I like my pasta and vegetables and all, and I do enjoy stir-fry, not to mention the other garbage I eat, but this was a bit good - very nice indeed. I had this salmon steak with a really nice whiskey and mushroom sauce, and oysters and a bunch of other stuff, all very nice. Some wine and then we had a pint in "The Eclipse Inn" after, when we came back to watch "School Of Rock" which was, well it was ok. You can...just extrapolate from the adverts and you have the rough outline.
So I looked for that Carrie Fisher book (I'm just curious - she's the highest paid script "doctor" in Hollywood) but they didn't have it. They did have "Catch 22 Revisited" or something like that, and I just quickly flicked through it. So far as I could tell, it was just a bunch of disjoint notes that comprised the original Catch 22 and also a bunch of retrospectives from him. He had some of the original in the form of a play and just reading a few pages really made me laugh. I think they charge you for that though, so I got out of there sharpish. I did other stuff too but none of it was nearly as interesting as the stuff I've already set out. I mean, I've given you the edited highlights. If I gave the real deal then that'd just be boring.
So I have tomorrow completely free. I mean, I'll ring to double check the plumber, but my guess is that he won't come. To be honest I don’t think he likes me very much. That’s ok though - I wasn’t all that crazy about him when I spoke to him. He didn’t seem like he was quite ladies and gentlemen. And he sounded a little light on his feet too – I don’t know about you but I just don’t trust a plumber who is a little light on his feet.
So I think I might go to Salisbury. I want to compare Cathedrals and just generally cause a nuisance. Do you know, quite ironic, it was almost 100 blog entries ago (I think this is 97 now) that I first started this thing, this damned….thing…and I did it because I took the day off to wait for a flat inspection and was bored hanging around. These things come in circles I think.
Yeah I think so, because circles don’t have a point either.
Er, I don’t think I have anything more to say on this though. I don’t really think I ever did in the first place to be honest, but I maybe sounded like I did. I think I’ve got it all out of my system for the time being anyway. You’d just….you’d just had better HOPE that I don’t have fun in Salisbury tomorrow, because if I do then it is coming directly out of YOUR time. Oh yeah, Rob, CP and I are also going to get takeaway and then go and see Spider Man 2 and then whatever happens next will follow.
Oh I nearly forgot – sat night was a really nice BBQ (Rob’s homemade burgers=v nice) and then Sunday was just a traffic jam and then dinner at home.
Have a good one you – hope it’s all going well.
Laters.
Not to be blogged separately.

2004-07-17T13:02:00.000Z

All the blogs are swimming in the water"
Oy oy,
Get a load of me man - I feel demolished and rebuilt. A shower (don't have a shower in Winchester) and listen to Seal and I feel ok. It's true what he says you know,'bout how life don't always work that way 'n all. He's a real poet man. Genuine philosopher. I love what Sting has to say concerning "everything little thing she does" too, you know it? What was it again? "Ehhh-ohhhh, ehhh-ohhh". Yeah nice one Sting, you think of that yourself? Is that what you think about during your 5 hour tantric sessions?
Leave him alone.
Ok well last night was fun, went to Wimbledon. Junk food in the morning which I kind of got pissed off about, I mean like day one into my healthy regime that I bragged about and already I crumbled, but the Friday I was really good, so I guess it evens out and I start from scratch tomorrow. Diet logic - someone needs to harness this fuzzy logic man, the underlying mathematics could unlock the secrets of the universe (or at least unbuckle the belt of its ever-expanding waistline). Yeah but I got a BBQ tonight and it's REALLY rude not to make a complete pig out of yourself at these things so, what I'll do, I'll go there right, and...and I'll make a complete pig out of myself, see, and...and I hadn't really got any further than that to be honest. But that's just fine. See I'll probably walk to the shop to buy some beer before, and EASILY that'll make up for it. If I shoplift it then I get to run too (the thought crosses my mind 'cos I just got a washing machine and my balance is, well, not balanced at all if you get my meaning). Nah but as I wrote before
"If I took a piece of angel"? shut up Seal, you sing gibberish.
But I'm still listening to it.
Lemon Jelly now - ahhh that is great. They played at Somerset House last night. My brother has such organised MP3s (I'm on his computer). Mine are arranged like "stuff", "new_stuff" and "latest_stuff_good". These are further subdivided into "Cambrian", "Cretaceous" and "Sting" and I've horizontally integrated these into eras and periods.
Yeah I think we got the joke by now.
"Horizontal integration".
They always talk about that at work.
"We're gonna enable horizontal integration of these business units so that..."
What, you're gonna lie down?
That's my business plan - TAKE IT EASY people, the new company motto. "Cadence Systems - Empowering people, to take it easy".
Cadence Systems - that's a good name for a company. I wonder if there's a company whose job it is to think of names for other companies and, if so, who thinks of their name? Wow - I've just opened a recursive can of worms there man.
When I was a kid, about thirteen or so, I used to make these games on the computer. They were all COMPLETELY rubbish, to put it mildly, but how the software cycle used to work was I'd think of what I might like to call the game, and then I'd chose the midi music that I'd like to put on the game, and then figure out what the splash screen might look like, and THEN, finally, when I'd exhausted everything else that I could possibly do, I'd actually think of what the game might actually BE. Consequently most games were...contrived...and slightly crap. Some of my choice ones were:
"New Island Command" (my first and, undoubtedly, my worst. You had to build up your army's "strategy" points by clicking the "strategy points" button. This would, quite generously, add points to your army but, and here is the caveat, OCASSIONALLY it would actually take points away! How the game actually finished was unclear, even to me, but at some unspecified point it would exclaim "game over" and a cheery message would invite the player to try again; few of my friends took up this offer).
"Foundation" (not bad this one - you had three houses and you had three utilities - gas, water and electricity, and you had to connect each house to each of the utilities without the pipes crossing. I don't think it's possible and it certainly isn't fun but the midi track of Debussy that it used to play was cool).
"Bamble Weeny" (these balls would run horizontally across the screen, and you controlled a net, that looked a bit like the paddle in pong, and you had to catch the balls in the net)
"Klasky Jack" (Richard still talks about this one - he thinks that all I'm working on at the moment is "Klasky Jack v1.8". These critters, called "Klaskies", would move randomly around the screen. Your job, as player, was to click on them. When you did this, they would explode, or at least disappear, to the accompaniment of a rather satisfying "pah" sound, that I produced by going "pah" into a microphone).
The company's name was "Indigo Western", which I got simply by looking at my shirt label ("Indigo Blue") and removing the "blue" and adding the name "Western". I still got the shirt and it still fits. Being a bit of a dick, I went out and got some business cards printed out, which I then stuck in my filo-fax. All of this is tragically true, and it feels good to get it all out. I was a very sad child (unlike my adult life, which can only be described as cool cool cool).
Still, work isn't much different from all that stuff anyway. I worked on this product that went through three names during my time there. There are release code names like "sapphire" or "silver-mine". There were product names that WE used, and then product names that the customer usesd.
Consequently, when people talked about products/releases/versions, nobody was quite sure exactly what was being talked about. I found that the important thing to do was to nod sagely.
The other day my brother-in-law was talking to me, and it took me some while to figure out that he was talking about a project that I had actually worked on myself (which was why he was mentioning it to me - duh, keep up McKiernan).
Ohh – Pat Metheny has just come on.
Best be off, I've written far too much already (are your eyes watering yet?) and it is doubtful that anyone has read to the end.
But if you have then I thank you, you really are a brick (which I am told is a compliment - perhaps on building sites or something, along with “you’ve got big tits”).
See you later you inanimate, cuboid, clay-backed, London-stock object!
Bye!
You really are a blog.
PS: All those names concerning projects/releases/versions I "worked on" (i.e. for an unspecified company and at an unspecified point in the past) were completely made up.

2004-07-15T16:56:00.000Z

I'm Spar-blog-cus,
What to talk about eh?
I have the entire English language at my disposal.
well... some of it anyway - all the swear words and a few infuriating winks is the sum total of my communication output ;-)
SEE!
Well one of my colleagues has just criticised the coefficient of my crisp consumption rate.
"I burn off all the calories by power-walking" I opined.
"WALKERS always say that, take some responsibility McKiernan."
"WHATSIT to you anyway?" I asked angrily.
"I think you have a problem. The other day we DISCOvered a secret stash of crisps under your desk. Tell me the truth, how many packets d'you have a day?"
"You're just having a go 'cos I got to go to that conference last week. You've had a CHIP on your shoulder ever since!"
At that point my manager got a bit stressed at all the raised voices.
"Oi! PACKET-in would ya - some of us are trying to work round here"
FIN.
There it is man, I hit rock (salt) bottom. That atrocity above is the single most awful thing I have ever been associated with (and I've been associated with people like Catherine Coleman). I promise I will never write anything like that again.
He had a point though (even though none of it actually happened) - I do eat too many crisps. Is just too easy in this job, it is a snacking culture. Sorry...meant to say sacking culture.
So anyway, the point is I decided that my eating habits are not great, to say the least. Most days I don't bother with breakfast, but then I end up having a snack before lunch.
Stupid right.
And as it is the summer, and as I have a week off, I've decided to take the matter in hand a bit. I'll have my bike so right away I've got a great avenue of exercise. Still walking too. I'm NOT going to start jogging again though - I did loads last summer and I have this horrible suspicion that I run like a girl. I don't really know, 'cos I run alone and don't always remember to bring my full length mirror, but its just once or twice I caught my arms going a bit limp, and this one time I trod in some muck right, so I lifted up my right heel and twisted my hips and neck to look at it and, well, if you can't picture it then try it - lift right heel of the ground but keep toes on floor, twist hips+neck round to look at heel and limp one of your wrists.
=hello sailor
=not good.

Also, this one time some bloke shouted out "Oi - you run like a girl" which...I dunno...might have something to do with it.
Ohhh, don't even get me started on throwing. Man, the theme of kids again, but if my kids EVER see me throw then I am done for. Me and Rich used to run around throwing things we shouldn't (at things we shouldn't), as kids will, but I'd always be more likely to hit my own foot than whatever out intended target was (generally Richard's little sister or one of her prize possessions, or his brother if we were feeling suicidal).
Anyway, cycling is for me. I'll take my bike on the train and then go and explore some interesting places round London.
Cool.

I'd better go. I just spent two hours trying to get my development environment working. THAT's why I hate computers.

"What's an optimist?"
"Blogone who does not know all the facts"

2004-07-14T08:53:00.000Z

Spi-blog-man, spi-blog-man.
I don't want to sound weird (as if I would) but this lock analysis I'm doing right now has got me quite excited. Think I...think I better get mahself a glass a water.
Why thank yew mister uh...PennyFeather. Accompany yew to the dance this Saurday? Why yes that would be fayne.
This might be the solution to the performance probs I've been seeing.
On the other hand it might just be the same as the 15 million other times I was certain I'd cracked it (and confidently announced as much to anyone who would listen).
I dig Spiderman I think, dig it and I think I might go watch watch this eve (ening). Gonna go in my pyjamas. Maybe I grew out of them, can't remember how big I was when I was 10.
The other night Edd came over and we watched the film "American Splendour". Is all about this Jewish guy who is slightly miserable, things not going too well for him, when he suddenly decides to write this comic about his life. It was ok. It won all kinds of awards at Cannes and Edinburgh, and was Academy Award nominated too. There was an awesome jazz soundtrack throughout the whole thing. Was very stylish actually.
What else? How is everyone else?
I've taken to holding this water pistol thing I got - I carry it at all times, which is a bit worrying. Last night I did laundry, washing up AND vacuuming whilst still managing to watch loads of TV and occasionally doing that "You talkin to me?" thing in the mirror.
squirt squirt
You do what you can to pass the time.
Listening to Handel too. I used to snub it a bit because I preferred other composers from the same period, but I heard some on the radio and thought it was Bach, so I figured I was a bit of an idiot thinking that way. Next week (holiday) I'm going to get loads of CDs - Superdrug in Kingston sells these ridiculously cheap classical CDs. I once got a complete Mozart piano concerto set (6 CDs) for just £5. Kev got some even better deals. Course when you play them you discover it is the musak version, but you still get the general idea right. Why do Superdrug sell CDs? My best guess is "bath time chill out" (lends a more tragic note to toaster-suicide) or "play to pregnant wife to make baby clever". Last thing I need is my baby outwitting me man, I'd personally be very happy with a stupid baby. To this end, I will play some Big Brother conversations to my unborn child.
I'm joking there by the way, or, at the very least, getting WAY ahead of myself.
Annnnnnnnnyway
I'm also going to get loads of books too - because it is my BIRTHDAY! Yup, I am nearing 22 years of age (you can almost read me MATURING as a person).
Alas, I'm now getting to that stage where I have to do mental arithmetic to figure out how old I am. The other day I actually forgot my date of birth. I was two years out. It doesn't really matter because most people can tell your age just by observing your squint and timing how long it takes you to figure it out - they call it "foreline dating". Man, the only explanation that I can come up with for my mental agility, or lack of it, is that rubbish folk music MY dad used to play when I was a kid.
And I used to like it.
He'd play The Proclaimers (A Letter From America). The tape would finish.
"AGAIN!" I'd demand.
He'd play it again.
It'd finish.
Inhale and slowly look to me.
Was I placated?
I'd consider my options.
"AGAIN!" I'd demand.
And so on.
Ok enough of this madness and lies. Can't you see I have exciting lock analysis to do!

You got two blogs for a ten?

2004-07-12T10:25:00.000Z

Aublogos meo,
I am one knackered individual man.
Ok, tally the facts with the theory:
Friday I was late to the gig. When already late, there is little more frustrating than an existentialist northern line train - keeps stopping to ponder the nature of...I dunno...being a train. Still it was a nice evening and what I heard of their set was great. Chris' new car home - just BURSTING to use the loo all the way back. Oh yeah - its details like that that I'm meant to keep to myself isn't it. Anyway, next morning we (Chris, Cath and I) went to Egg's for some food and to watch some DVDs, and then I got the train to Kent for an extremely wet barbeque - we ended up at the pub. Was very nice though. I think I kept everyone awake with HILARIOUS jokes. Ever seen Full Metal Jacket? Yeah...was a bit like that - now I got this killer bruise on my leg.
Next day I ambled round Tottenham Court Rd for literally NO reason other than to justify the cost of my travel ticket, and for some reason I was considering going to Woolwich before I then came back to Chessington. They always come back - they get hungry.
So we then went to pick up Rich and then went to see Fahrenheit 911.
Quick capsule review: junk. Is really a bit rubbish.
Why?
Here's why (or at least my opinion why). Is just so confused and meandering. No direction at all. He is critical of everything in general but nothing in particular. He nit picks at completely irrelevant facts, trying to make them sound sinister and/or drawing spurious conclusions from them, and then he casually breezes through some really interesting bits and doesn't develop on them. It just failed to hit the targets in my opinion (rather like the war itself). The fact is, regardless of political allegiances or points of view, you'd pretty much have to admit that mistakes have been made in this war on terror, and that lives have been lost as a result. It should not be particularly difficult, therefore, to put together a pretty damning film, but this was really a bit childish and perhaps he'd do quite well not to show himself in his own films - his physical appearance hardly lends it credibility.
Can you tell I was hung over when I watched it? I bet if I saw it now I'd think it was quite good. And yes, I am aware of the inherent hypocrisy of my criticising someone else's physical appearance.
Anyway, then me and Rich had a pub dinner before I trained to Woking and then to Winchester. Was great to see him. Jen came round because she has to teach in Eastleigh tomorrow (which is today) and we watched a bit of "Angel Eyes" (which is poor).
Tonight I am going to play guitar all night - my nails are at just the right length. and I should probably do some laundry too.
I fancy some good news. If anyone has some then feel free to leave a comment. Otherwise I'm just going to make some up.

"I'm making a citblogzen's arrest".
"Go on then."
"Er, hadn't thought far yet. Never mind."

2004-07-09T14:42:00.000Z

Does this thing work? It keeps losing my posts. I thought it might be my browser cache but obviously not.
sigh. I keep republishing but it only seems to print a post when I put up the enxt post.
This is MEANT to be an escape from hammering around trying to get IT to work.

2004-07-09T13:44:00.000Z

Altogether, sounding bored
"Pennsylvania six-five-blog-sand".

The emancipated spiritual music of the white middle class concert band - there is no better sound.
But there could be, cos I go to see the old bruv playing tonight. Also - continue from where I left off from laundry last night (I think I had got to the stage where I'd decided to do some).
Just been tracing the most ridiculous defect ever. Noticed an odd call path in my analysis and, when I tracked it down, a message meant for box2 was going from box1 to box2 to box1 before finally going to box2 again. This is the closest thing to "hilarious" as you are going to get in this job, and I relish the opportunity to tell this yarn to the team on Monday's meeting.
"But seriously folks, I'll be here all week" etc.
So what else I hear you ask? (If you didn't then you should have).
Well....let's see shall we?
I gotta sort myself out a bit tonight, and the gig of course, and then on Saturday I'm going to go to that Hopper exhibition FINALLY. Then a BBQ in Kent, which I've been looking forward to. The next day I hope to go to the cinema to see something or other (either 911 or Shrek), and then I'm going to get home and take it easy for as long as mum's computer will allow. Then most likely a pub dinner of some artery blocking elk (I'm a massive Bowie fan), and then Winchester.
As fast as that.
ONE TWO THREE.
Cool.
Let's see who's weekend...it is...as we go through.....the blog hole.

2004-07-07T14:00:00.000Z

You said blog, our survey said...

I did actually write a blog for the last weekend, as you can see, but am informed that it did not publish. Durrr. I published and republished, so it must be blogger's fault (his eyes darting left to right).
Raise a defect.
Ayyyyy, whadya tawkin' 'bout?
Last few days have been quite odd. Longer and longer walks (in this gorgeous weather) and generally just thinking stupid thoughts and excelling at being me.
Ambling my way through life, as 'twere.
Man - sure is windy today huh. We just had this announcement, I kid you not,
"Bing-bong: A tree has fallen over"
Everyone darts over to the window.
"A tree? Fallen over? This I gotta see!"
Expected what? Trees flying through the air with reckless abandon? A Wicked Witch of the East doing...stuff? Or just leaves, gently swaying in the breeze. Yes. That last one. Er, that's not quite what we were after.
"Bing-bong: Get back to work".
Disappointment reigns once more, but now anger and resentment. Bitter. We are BITTER because we WANTED to see the tree. Stamp foot. And now can feel hate brewing and I consider mutiny - refuse to work and just lie on my side, like the tree out there. Would it work? Rock the class system to its VERY FOUNDATION?
Futility. Acceptance of cowardice. Settle for a mocha and a good cry and I just get back to it.
Mutiny of the bow-tree, it could so nearly have been. (Anyone else suspect that I started with the pun and derive the rest of it from there?)

Anyway, this tree has somehow managed to block one of the two roads outta here, so I might well be spending the night under my desk man. Aren't you supposed to get a half day when a tree falls over? A mark of respect?

I don't know what the fuss is about the storms - it'll all blow over!
HE HE HE
I know that's terrible but, and watch this now, I DON'T CARE.
You see that. Do not care. Not THIS guy no sir.

I got nothing I'm afraid. Get home and do more work, possibly, and maybe rent a video too. If I speak to anyone other than myself then it'd be a miracle.

Just heard this woman on the radio, her son died in Iraq. She features in this new Michael Moore film. She lost it a bit at one point man, was very sad. Am now quite keen to see this film - have heard lots of criticism but some quite lofty praise too.

WARNING: This blog is slightly annoying.

2004-07-05T13:31:00.000Z

Milk for lunch, it's blog for you.

The most exciting wonderful idea I've ever had - gonna buy a really loud clock.
Don't you just love the sound of a really loud clock. A big one with a heavy mechanism, so the ticking is deep and powerful, and then every once in a while the ringing of a little bell, heard from another room. Man, I can almost hear it now. Makes the place seem calm, thoughtful, peaceful, civilised. Relaxed. Clocks are the essence of civilisation. I might get a book or something on clocks. I'm not 100% sure, but I suspect (I suspect) that, if you take a look at the number of teenage pregnancies, most of these can be attributed to clocks in some way. Crime, unemployment - always a clock (or LACK of one) involved. Is absolutely disGUSting. There's a clock out there for me somewhere.
Some....where.
I think this is the sort of erratic talk that get's you sectioned, so I'm going to write about other stuff, like my weekend, but I'll be thinking of clocks as I do it.

So Friday Friday Friday. Clapham (pronounced "C-larm") North (pronounced "Nerth", or any way you like really, provided it isn't important for anyone to actually understand where you're talking about) with my sister, brother, brother in-law, his sister and some of her friends. We had some beers and then went for Thai food (I had already eaten a fine meal on the train, so for me this was more of a "spectator supper", although I probably ate more of my sister's dinner than she did). I'm now pretty well informed on heat equations and their application to financial "options" markets, (a subject that, as has been aptly stated, made me consider cutting my ears off), which I fully expect to come in handy at some point very soon ;-) Nah, was not that bad - guess I was just a bit too dim to quite grasp all of it, perhaps not unrelated to the number of beers imbibed - maybe there's a heat equation to model that :-)
Was a nice evening though - Clapham is so bustling! Is great!
Then me and Chris had a chat and then we went to bed. Oh yeah, we went home before that though.
Next day I met Cat in the afternoon, I had some dinner and then I met up with Cat and Kev at Waterloo to go to Leicester Square for Phil's birthday. Was very nice. Great to see some old faces, and some new ones too, and of course the usual crew. A pleasant evening indeed.
Sunday was spent going "urrghhh" a great deal, and doing that thing where you kind of open your mouth, run your tongue alone teeth, and swallow, - is grim.
Me and Chris watched the sport and I helped mum do some school work and then we went for a meal and I came back home.
Fell asleep on the sofa watching Big Brother. When I woke up there was this weird howling from outside - was indescribable. Might have been a fox, but it sounded really human. I kind of walked in circles for a bit, confused, before dragging my arse off to bed.

Why da cops always be pullin' me over?
Blog's wid dat?

2004-07-01T09:46:00.000Z

If you keep doing that you'll go blog
(as the priest said to the Bishop)

Duuuuude,
is it me or are the introduction bits just getting worse and worse?
Sent an email to LBC. They were debating whether shows were sometimes commissioned purely on the basis of their names, and invited people to email their suggestions.
Ages ago, me and some friends came up with a similar theory.
I can only remember two:
King Of The Ring: Drama following the trails and tribulations of a young, gay boxer who is struggling to deal with his homosexuality.
Light Switch: Identical twins, one an electrician, the other anorexic, swap lives (with hilarious consequences).
Ahh, the good old sixth from common room. I was so immature back then.

Last night I did some more bad music. Watched Big Brother - is quite funny. Er, fell asleep (and woke up confused), few telling-bone calls, went to ESSO in shorts, un-ironed check shirt and slip-on shoes (my visits there have kind of developed into a competition to see how pikey I can look), all the usual stuff. Nothing interesting really - can't even think why I'm writing this actually.
Been perfecting my "Bruckner Boleuvard" accent (=Bronx for those who do not know Newww Yerk as well as I do) .
You ready?
Fugedaboutit, whadaya nuts?
Not bad huh. Ready for my Welsh accent?
Fugedaboutit, whadaya nuts?
Really special that - I must be very talented. I guarantee, go down "the projects" with the correct pimp roll (I'll give lessons on that later) going
"fugedaboutit fugedaboutit"
and generally people will leave you alone.
Shy away is the correct term I believe.
Is even better if you do it in shorts, un-ironed check shirt and slip-on shoes! (Incidentally, my slip-on shoes are just ordinary trainers with the laces taken out, an idea I got from Catherine, who sometimes has to treat patients who are too "comely" to quite maintain a physical relationship with their feet - lucky bastards).
But reading this back I sound lazy and terrible so for lunch I'm gonna go for one of my famous "power walks" (I hear tuba music in my head as I huff) and generally try and be fit and healthy. And right now I'm wearing an ironed shirt, clean everything AND laces, and am well groomed, so don't think too badly of me. Pleaaasseeee.
FINSIHED.

Give me the simple life,
(ba boom ba ba boom ba)
let me blog me, (ba boom)
that's destiny. (ba boom)

2004-06-30T11:05:00.000Z

Mind the blog

Ok,
fine...
HERE WE GO
How slow and tiring. splutter splutter BANG. That's bettter.
So what do we do?
Watch Class Swap and then Big Brother and lie motionless, perfectly still, on a clean bed. Last night I washed up and then, after seeing the latest Gillette comercial (is it me or did they just up the testosterone some 300%) figured I better do some "stretches" and try to make up some kung-foo "moves", so that I too could be the best I can be etc. Guess I over did it so to balance it out I did laundry, went for two walks and then decided to just be lazy and watch telly. Working on two pieces of music right now (both of them mostly bad, lacking in any direction and sounding exactly the same as the others), which I hope to record with my brother during my upcoming holiday, and beyond that played bass too. Oh yeah, and my tabla (sic) - I bet that's really annoying people now. Good.
Read (transferred to rereading random bits of Bonfire Of The Vanities AGAIN - fits my current mood quite well), new batteries for my radio and was rewarded for my efforts with yet another radio 4 play involving camp little ineffectual men. In disgust I turned over to watch Big Brother, a show consisting of camp little ineffectual men. Man, as there's currently a debate as to whether the legal limit for abortions is too late or not, I'd like to offer my opinion that it should actually be extended to however old Marco is.
Anyway, exercise and whatnot, but I just blew it all on a HUGE bacon sarnie, and I'd do it again I tell you! EVIL LAUGH: ha ha ha.
Managed to shave without slicing my face up (Gillette really are the best) AND I did my own laces, all by myself, so I'm feeling very much like Shaft today. I mugged this old granny on the way in and gave her pension, sycophantically, to some bloke in a Mercedes.
Stalled at work again, waiting for a fix to go in the build - I hate it when this happens because you just have nothing to do but send stupid emails and write stupid blogs, like this one!
So that's my excuse.
What's yours?

Tube drivers on the Victoria and Central line just have to press the button to open the doors - they don't even have to drive the damn things. They're all down in Portsmouth getting pissed aren't they? Might join them later in a minute.

James O'Brian,
He is my King
If I could be anyone,
I'd be just like him.

Gosblog Park. Monblog Of The Glen. Last Of The Bloghekans.
Which is the odd one out?
None - they're all rubbish.
(just joking - haven't even seen two of them, were just the most convenient for me to use).

2004-06-29T08:03:00.000Z

My good lord,
I guess the only topic is that program about that antiques kid.
You see it?
Unbelievable. I was open mouthed throughout the entire thing. Wasn't sure if it was a joke or not, but I'm sure I remember seeing him in the 80s/early 90s. Am I missing something?
Was just unspeakable - I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
For those who didn't see it, it was on C4 right after Big Brother.
In the late 80s this six year old kid called James emerged, and he was hailed as this antiques 'genius'. A protégé. He was dressed in appropriate genius attire -bow-tie and umbrella, and exhibited on every show going - Wogan, Oprah, the works.
Thing is, the kid knew nothing about antiques at all and his accent was clearly false. His response to any question was
"Mid 18th century, worth something in the hundreds." and all was clearly scripted.
As he got older, he grew more and more confident, until finally the recession struck, the country decided it could live without precious perms, and his businesses went under.
(Incidentally, I had just washed my hair, and it had puffed out. The resemblance was not too far fetched so I had to run to the mirror and put wax in).
He then decided to sue the government for "mismanaging the country".
He announced his intention to "give back to the people", which he planned to do by taking millions of pounds in tax payer's money.
After he lost his appeal (amazingly), facing bankruptcy, his father was arrested for torching his fancy dress shop.
James then appears on Wogan to appeal for money for a barrister. Now aged 10, Wogan asked him why he didn't go to school.
His reply:
"I won't! I won't! Because they're not ladies and gentlemen, and the teachers aren't ladies and gentlemen either, and you wouldn't know anyway, because you weren't there, Wogan."
You may remember that scene - Frank Skinner was on it and so was Geff Goldblum (who just wore this shocked/concerned expression throughout the entire exchange). The audience descending into peals of laughter.
Anyway, this was all quite well known. However, the documentary then picked up on James as he is today. Nowadays he prefers to be called Lauren, after his recent operation. The family all support her and they all live together at "Tudor Cottage" which is smack in the middle of a Cardiff council estate. The father works as a private detective and has a PhD in metaphysics. Lauren, meanwhile, works as a councillor, by dint of her PhD in "dramatergy".
In actual fact, every member of the family has a PhD in something or other. On closer examination of this however, these qualifications were all awarded to them by "Cardiff College Of Humanistic Studies". The registered address of this college? Tudor Cottage - their house.
They certified themselves, and they all work as either Private Detectives, councillors, or both. When confronted with their fraud, they replied that their qualifications "in the field of life" more that warranted their degrees, and the documentary maker was "dysfunctional".
For a brief stint, James was a cult leader, considered by some (God knows who) to be the second coming. When asked what had happened to this, he (she) replied
"Oh, it just...fizzled out."
I have never seen people more deluded - literally living in their own made-up world. The thing that got me was that Lauren actually seemed very sweet, just so damaged, absolutely desperate to get back on camera. Everything she did was like an audition. She has applied to be on every reality TV show going. She obviously had issues with her mother - when doing this acting scene, she played an angry parent, and she just lost it. Started attacking the documentary makers and everyone. Some of the kids seemed nice enough to. They were all participants in the bullshit but the thing is, because nobody talks to the family (not even their own relatives) they have no outside influence, so they just accept the parents and their rubbish and don't challenge it. They all live in the family home and have precious few friends. It's the parents that I started to really dislike - my wonder is how these people find each other. What are the chances of two such deranged individuals meeting and successfully breeding? It must be entropy that brings them together. Doesn't this disprove Darwin or what?

So anyway, apart from that, I went for a walk to the Cathedral book stall. The books are always out, day or night, under a porch. You chose a book you like and make a donation in the honesty box. Is a good scheme because you're bound to give more than what you would pay in, say, Oxfam or something. I got a puzzle book and a picture book (which I will give to Jenny for her new class). Now I feel both stupid AND patronised at the same time. Cool.
Jen called actually - had a chat. As usual I talked and talked but didn't really say a great deal (audible sigh denoting general malaise).
Mum rang. Pasta for dinner. Guitar, but my heart wasn't in it (my heart was safe and sound inside my rib cage, to my great relief).
Have fun and for GOODNESS SAKE don't get your children interested in antiques.
Or give them bow ties.

2004-06-28T15:29:00.000Z

What I did on my weekend - A Gerry Blogheimer tale

Hello!

On Friday I was lucky enough to go out to the pub (and then a club) in the company of the triumvirate of Jen, CP and Leanne. Jen was kind enough to offer me a lift but her car had other plans, so instead I slept on their sofa (where I didn't snore and where I wasn't unsightly).
Next morning Jen gave me a lift home (via petrol station), and one thing we didn't have was a pub lunch in Winchester. My flat, being already 100% clean, required absolutely no tidying up (which is as well, cause I was well and truly in lazy mode).
When around they arrived at about half past the seven, I was very busy not singing along to Level 42. We then didn't go on to stuff our faces with ridiculous amounts of pizza while I didn't cheerfully enumerate various breaches of hygiene that I had observed in my teens during my brief tenure as a kitchen assistant.
We played the Play-Station, but in the end we gave it up to instead play with a cup-and-ball. I love that - lord knows how much money on a games console but its the £1.50 cup and ball that gets people's pulses racing :-)
How do I know they were racing?
Because I used my lie detector of course!

I call it a lie detector but all it seems to do is emit, when placed in your palm, this high-pitched and entirely annoying wobble sound, completely unrelated to your pulse (or any other part of your anatomy).
Is the most rubbish possession in the world, made slightly more palatable by the fact that it isn't mine but was infact left by a friend on New Year's Eve.
This one time, for some reason, I was trying to clean, so I picked up this pile of clothes and was just about to hide them under my bed when they suddenly started to emit this unearthly, indescribable sound, rather like a high-pitched and entirely annoying wobble. Fully convinced, at this point, that my clothes were haunted ("the spirits must be enraged at this disturbance", I quickly deduced), I was just about to bolt for my deodorant when I was categorically informed that my clothes were lying. This being closer to the natural order of things (we all know clothes lie - lie about waist lines, chest sizes and they steal money when you're asleep), I relaxed a bit, gave the heap a really good kick (as punishment), discovered the source of my broken toe as my long lost lie detector and then, in blissful enlightenment, restored that enchanted device to its rightful place (another pile of clothes, this one inside the wardrobe).
So yes - a very nice evening on Saturday.
On Sunday I went for a walk, remembered Edd was asleep in my living room, made him some tea, we went to play Frisbee (slightly better that last time), went in search of iced tea, enjoyed some lunch, both cleaned up (think Chuckle Brothers but less emaciated and gaunt), we went to see The Lady Killers (not bad, but not great either - think Chuckle Brothers but less likely to be refused work in schools) before a game of Tekken that I just don't want to talk about. Got home, guitar, that bizarre Stephen King thing in the hospital, phone call to my mum, then bath begot book begot bed begot bye.
Bye!

Quiet nights and quiet stars,
quiet chords from my blog-tar….

2004-06-25T14:44:00.000Z

Blog before you leap

The problem with writing is that it is only single threaded.
Only one person can talk at any point in time and there is no sense of timing.
Behold my new creation - multi threaded writing, which I have liberally called the "Boscombe Method".
With this the reader is LITERALLY transported into the heart of the action. Just you look at this!


Hi there         how's it going?

            hello                       oh not too bad thanks

Unbelievable. Let's now we make the conversation a bit slower


Hi there                    how's it going?

               hello                               oh         not too bad thanks

Incredible! It really was slower. The possibilities are literally limitless. Just check out this argument in progress - it's amazing:


would                  shutup                           How dare...

    SHUT YOUR FACE                No you shut your face.         SHUTUP

Did you read that? It was amazing! Is Trisha in 2D form! Of course, I'll need to invent extra long bits of paper for it to work.

People accused my last blog entry of being weird. Guess this proved them wrong.
To be honest the word bored doesn't cut it. They have yet to invent a word for how I'm feeling right now. My email campaign really
kicked of yesterday - I bothered just about everyone I know with some really quite pathetic cries for attention - like this one. I'm bigger and uglier but, at heart, I'm still in that special school.
I am getting attention though - plenty of it, but unfortunately it's all from a bunch of smelly developers who don't believe there could ever be anything the matter with their code, which more often than not is true.
Expect more of the same, it's the best in the long-run.
BYE

It’s only a blog – stroke it, it won’t bite.

2004-06-24T09:43:00.000Z

Germany Steinbeck, literary editor for "Blog Culture Supplement", reviews "Horrid Henry's Underpants" by T.E.P. Rockefeller

This most recent offering by Rockefeller has been greeted with much enthusiasm, mainly on account of his best selling 2001 offering "Horrid Henry's Day Out". Indeed, Rockefeller’s "Horrid Henry" series has consistently outsold all but the most popular titles in the 6-8 year old market and is, undoubtedly, one of the key contenders for this year's Sheffy (Sheffield Award For Children's Fiction).
However, upon reading this latest work, I was left with severe feelings of dissatisfaction.
The characters? Weak and uninspired. The idealistic focus can only be described as wandering, muddled, confused. Where is the exploration of the underlying themes? Why did Horrid Henry lose his underpants - was this an indication of a suppressed sexuality?
With virtually no subtle interplay between the two key protagonists (namely Horrid Henry and his underpants) and no sympathy for the human condition, this book falls desperately short of the mark. In all, this berk should not get another award.
If your kids like this book then they are thick.

Germany Steinbeck’s brave battle against the bottle continues.
Look left,
Look Blog.

2004-06-23T07:28:00.000Z

cum-blog-o nimbus and a sunshine smile

Ok, so what's new in my little world?
I've started power walking. This is just the same as normal walking, only you cram nutri-grain bars into your gob continuously and if you see someone else you've got to push them over. Hey man, I don't like it any more than they do but them's the rules.
Went down my local (Cathedral that is) to see what was going down - caught the last bit of evensong - shouted "come on Tim", as that seems to be in fashion, found a new walk that takes me outside the city and straight to massive fields, been watching football and tennis (and calling the players lazy as I lie back and watch), began some email campaigns to my brother, Edd, Nic Ferrari and a complete stranger with an even stranger blog (http://www.onecandle.co.uk/daryl/wimbleblog/), been finding out the details of Frank Dobson's marriage (met wife on bonfire night), cleaning, spying on new neighbors (a masculine and a feminine), apologizing to new neighbors (a masculine and a feminine), been not wanting no scrubs, eating ritz, running out of cupboard space to hide my mess in and also perfecting my impression of me.
And I do work too.
Impressive?
No.

Twas the blog before Christmas
and all through the house

2004-06-21T15:49:00.000Z

1,2,3,4,5,
Once I ate a blog alive,

Urrghhh
Feeling knackered.
This evening I'm going to listen to music and watch Wimbledon. Lie on my sofa with the window open, the pitter-patter of rain outside, content in my laziness and inordinately interested in anything that I can reach with my foot.
MY ALARM CLOCK
I like my alarm clock because the numbers on the LCD look cool. Not only this (though good lord that's enough), but it also makes this "urrgghh urrggghh " sound in the morning, not unlike an HGV reversing slowly and menacingly towards you. If you tune the radio into static then it sounds a bit like the sea, especially if you twiddle the volume up and down a little bit.
MY MICROWAVE
Since I got my microwave my life has never been the same. I have literally never looked back. I use my microwave every day. So far it has saved me loads of time and has added hours on to my life. However, this time has largely been spent micro waving greasy and unhealthy food, which has taken hours off my life. Therefore, the net effect of owning a microwave has been negligible.
COFFE MAKER
I have never used my coffee maker and probably never will, but I bet you anything that it would be marvellous if I did. I love my coffee maker quite a lot. Sometimes I love it too much, and I grow very disillusioned with so called "society".
HAMMER
Sometimes I just like to look at it, but I have a lovely hammer. Sometimes I walk up and down my flat brandishing it. Occasionally I catch the eye of my neighbour, that idiot, through the kitchen window, and then I wave it about all over the place to say hello. My hammer is a "working man's" hammer, and I think about it every day.
LASER PEN
There are few sights in life more attractive than a semi-naked man, donning baseball cap, pointing at various things with his laser pen. I think the Village People were going to do something like that in the late 90s but it all ended in disaster. Those eye-patches are actually genuine I think. Well I'm not sure but sometimes I feel it...in my heart.

Those are a few of my favourite things - my alarm clock, my microwave, my coffee maker, my hammer and my laser pen.

1001 1101 1110 1110 1111 1000 0001 1010 = ascii for blog (no it isn't)

2004-06-21T07:54:00.000Z

Wild child, you might get what you're after...blogging down the house.

while(true)
{
try
{
adore(tom);
}
catch(AnnoyingException e)
{
System.out.blogline("go away Tom");
}
}

The program is finished - now all I have to do is mend the puncture and my android is complete.
I'm making jokes in Java - was just a matter of time huh. Reckon I could charge this to the company?
Anyway, I'm going to talk about the weekend now.
Friday was nice. Kev came round. We watched Talking Heads on DVD. Really like them. Really really like them. Kev has a very eclectic taste - is very good.
Saturday was great too. Kev came round. We went about Winchester like we owned the place (which we don't) and then played Frisbee. We're both really bad at Frisbee. Then my brother came, brought me a cabinet and a bass guitar, some beer, we pubbed for dinner and then went to Southampton. We met our friends and we went to Apartment 21. I had a really nice time - highlight of my week. Catherine drew me a really sweet picture (which she did with her left hand during a phone conversation over the week where we both complained for at least thirty five minutes) which is now on my fridge. Then we all went to a disco type place and we danced and I enjoyed myself loads. Loads and loads - thanks for a very nice evening, some much appreciated memories for a week ahead which, in the fullness of time, may prove to be v stressful (but that's a thirty five minute phone call). We had to go early to get our train, which was unfortunate. When we got home we watched more TV and kind of dropped off. Cold floor, sleeping bag, pillow (but that's a thirty five minute phone call).
Sunday was great too. Kev came round. He and Chris left quite early, but was great to see them and thanks for coming down. Me and Edd (Edd and I) went to Bournemouth, where we did the following.
PADDLE
Man,that water was just begging to be paddled, and I was the man for the job. As soon as I saw the sea I kind of giggled, kicked of my shoes, rolled up my trousers and just burned it. I paddled FURIOUSLY, like my life depended on it. I fancy that as a direct result of my actions today they'll be a tsunami in Japan by the end of the night. Then we went to....
Various cafes, several scenic spots, the pier, the town centre (some various pungent, hempish aromas emanating from some of those hostels) before we went to a hot dog guy and then we went to see the Harry Potter movie.
Is rubbish, don't bother.
I sent some HILARIOUS postcards to some relatives and then we went, via Christchurch (I messed up), back to a certain pub in Southampton for dinner. I talked and talked for about...oh...thirty five minutes? before we left. We then went to a bench and I talked for AGES about this one subject as Edd's eyes glazed, frosted and then congealed before we went to the airport, watched some planes (from the viewing tower) doing NOTHING and then I got my train back here.
Thanks again though - Sunday is slightly less daunting when you have pleasant memories.
Have a nice week :-)
Sleep tight and muchos lovestos,
Tom.

Same as it ever was...

You'll like this guy, he's ok - he's a blogfella.

2004-06-17T23:27:00.000Z

Blog for your thoughts?

Allo!
(me again).
BORED. Football was ok. Had a pasty with it and fell asleep. Had the volume just loud enough so that, when it got exciting (for whatever reason), the increased pitch of the commentators was just about enough to wake me up - unfortunately I missed the second goal because my eyes were still unfocused and bleary.

Just watching Derren Brown. Must be the seventh time I've seen him now. He's pretty good man, all those mind tricks and stuff.
But I reckon I could do that.
For example, think of a number.
Any number. Take your time. Take as long as you like. For example, you might want to take as long as seven minutes.
Got one?
Good.

Ok here we go.....

Getting it now.....

Was it...the square root of 2?
I knew it. Spooky man.
QUESTION
But how did I know?
ANSWER
Piss off

The weekend is set and ready to go. On Friday Kevin, who has recently graduated (so congratulations, and ditto to Jen and Leanne) and I will spend a quiet evening watching DVDs and talking. Then, on Saturday, I'll put him in front of the computer while I go about my business, my papers, my correspondence i.e. the ever present pile of bills, until my brother arrives. As a group we will then on to Southampton to affect a rendezvous with the aforementioned Leanne and none other than the illustrious CP, possibly Richard into the bargain, Cat and Edd too. Where is yet to be figured out (by me - oh dear, apologies in advance), then home. Chris will, no doubt, have to leave early on Sunday for his rehearsal, which means Kevin will go too, leaving me on my Js to find something to do. I was thinking of going to Poole for the day for a really decent exploration, but I might go to Bournemouth instead, it having certain pleasant memories, or maybe even Portsmouth. I might actually go to Buckler's Hard in the New Forest - we drove through it the other day, but I think it might be named after the Rev Buckler who was an early palaeontologist - I'd like to find out one way or the other. Apparently he used to dig for fossils in full academic dress. I might be completely wrong but it'd be nice if I wasn't. Other than that the only idea I have is to go see Harry Potter (in full academic dress).
But, either way, I'll get some bang for my buck (I just came across that phrase in a specification I'm reading and was rather taken with it) by taking a pen and some paper and jotting some stuff down.

Now is time for bed - that stolen hour of reflective tranquillity, before again to the fray.
Goodnight.

amon-blogum-nitrate
our misunderstood friend

2004-06-17T15:07:00.000Z

"These are a few of my fav-blog-ate things"

('ain't no taste more bitter than that of a lost pun. "Carriage wit" I believe it is called, so I just had to get that one in there)
Off home early for football! Football, beer and indigestion (FBI) and then I'm going to go smash up Winchester with some hooligan chums. I'll wake up tommorrow and find Alfred's statue in my garden.

Bye!

2004-06-17T10:06:00.000Z

chants in deep voice (A blog supreme, a blog supreme, a blog supreme)
sax blaring etc...

Yes, I did indeed see the program on Coltrane last night - was good. A bit too much of the documentary maker for my liking (every other shot was him, sat there, this earnest look on his ugly mug as he listened to these guys babble on incoherently about how "'Trane? Man, he was real...but he was UN-real"), but they got across quite a lot about his music. Three guesses what albums I'm going to be listening to tonight (as I lay waste to various baddies on PS2, both real and un-real also). But more important is the football! Gonna leave work early, get a bit of dinner on the boil (you do boil pizza right?) and enjoy. Man, bound to be some violence tonight. It's my contention that all these "hooligans" are actually, in reality, nothing more than a bunch of middle-aged women in disguise, determined to get England removed from the tournament so that Eastenders can return to its regular viewing times. The real fans are currently bound and gagged in some airport cupboard, their clothes taken and their dignity in tatters. The clue was in the way they hurled those chairs at that window - the slightly limp wrists, those wiggling hips - haven't seen such terrible throwing (or such charming hips) since the last time I saw Hampton Hill cricket club play.
He he - sorry CP ;-)

Evenings spent listening to music and reading (mainly). Found a new grassy spot quite near me where I've been chilling out most evenings.
Some crew coming down this weekend, which should be v nice, so hopefully we can arrange a night out on Saturday (or something along those lines).
But if it all falls through,
well then c'est la vie,
but no matter what happens,
just take it easy.

Er....blog.

2004-06-15T16:23:00.000Z

Always blog the label

Last night a success! A triumph! Got home, tidied up (in the most half-arsed way imaginable), got to the next level on 13, had some dinner, watched the news, went for a good long walk (explored the North-West quadrant of Winchester - as yet, to me, relatively unknown and crammed full of delightfully scenic spots) and then I spoke to my brother on the phone for a bit and then I got to the next level on Tomb Raider, played tons of guitar and then finally finished my book (and moved on to a new one) while drinking some "malteaser" hot chocolate (which is absurdly similar to ordinary hot chocolate). I then listened, in the blazing humidity, to the blazing row going on downstairs.
They did...not pause...for breath.
Tonight they will probably make up, which kind of implies a similar amount of noise, but so long as she's not singing "My Heart Will Go On" then I'm happy.
But it's the humidity that affects me man, I have the weirdest dreams and wake up more tired than before. So, consequently, I was in something of a bad mood this morning.
But nothing that a round of toast + peanut butter couldn't fix.

Adios!
(Speedy Blogzales)

2004-06-13T21:52:00.000Z

To Mrs Mycroft Blog, Astray Road, Dulwich

My dearest wife,
I trust that this letter finds you well, and that you have not been inappropriate since my departure. Indeed, it may not have escaped your attention that, in view of my absence, I have taken the small liberty of bolting the front door and of erecting a small chain-mail fence around our charming villa, so as to clip your wings; it wouldn’t do for the hen to fly her nest now would it, my dearest goose.
Anyway my darling, I shall herby relate to you some of the more interesting events that have befallen me since our last correspondence.
Upon reviewing my weekend, my dear, it must be said that there is some inner-turmoil within my heart as to how to classify my experiences; was it an inductive process that lead, by degrees, from one delight to another, or would it be rather more apt to describe it as one continuous hangover? Of course, I am sure you are aware that, under normal circumstances, I have very little trouble at all in the subtle art of classification, taxidermy being, as well you know, a passionate little hobby of mine. For example, I should have no trouble at all in branding yourself as a “liar”, or in declaring Mr Reginald Coleman, our portly (and somewhat amorous) neighbour as a “despicable ingrate”, most deserving of a smack street stile. But in this case, however, I find myself experiencing some small difficulty and, so, I shall instead endeavour to let the facts speak for themselves. Facts, you sweet, stupid lipid, such that your fickle, feeble, philandering intellect might grapple and interpret as best you see fit.

Anyway, Friday night was bad-boy man - a work BBQ in Poole (just ignore that introduction bit by the way – it comes from rather a long train journey spent reading the ‘correspondence’ style of “The Lost World”, but with my own addition of an allusion to infidelity and bad language for, in theory at least, a humorous gloss but, in reality, a pretentious sheen with a grain of immaturity added for good measure. Let’s move on!).
Poole is, without doubt, gorgeous. The food and company was great. The highlight was a big game of sardines.
BLOG QUICK FACT: never play sardines with computer programmers.
They’ll take it seriously and make you look STUPID. My old team lead was wicked and we were literally looking for him for a solid hour. While he was shivering in the bushes, we were casually chomping sausages and rechecking under the BBQ.
“Nah, not here….just check in the fridge again.”
(In actual fact we were looking for him very diligently and, without doubt, he put us all to great shame). He was taunting us by operating the car fob (making his lights flash) as we looked for him, and then this other guy (who was also among the search party) started doing it slyly in his own car, so it looked like the cars were all haunted and evil and that, and so the girls started screaming, or at least I did - was quite unnerving.
I went into a pitch black shed and went
“found you ya bastards”
(which I had recently said to an empty bathroom, empty garage and my own reflection in a puddle) and was absolutely terrified out of my brain with the shed replied
“Shhh – find a hiding place”
I very nearly screamed again.
Anyway the food was good and much fun was had by all. They were up ‘till 6! (perhaps enjoying that rare treat of sending the kids to a friend’s house for a slumber party) but I called it a day much earlier than that.
“Day!” I shouted, and marched off to bed.
Anyway, next morning, after some furtive glimpses at the beautiful opulence of Poole (Sandbanks = most expensive place to live, per square foot, in the WORLD apparently, but I find that a little bit far fetched myself), I transitioned from Dorset to Hampshire to Surrey to London (celebrating each county crossing with a packet of Mini Cheddars) where Cat, Edd and myself went to a Dickensian pub in Blackfriars and then back to Tooting for food before going to some bars etc in Clapham. I actually made it home that night, no sleeping on the train or anything like that, and enjoyed my own bed and my dearest book.
Next morning yielded a rendezvous with Kev and then onwards to Battersea Park for a picnic - first time I’ve ever alighted at Queen’s Town Road station which, for me, is always something I get a rather pathetic kick out of. Yey!
Cat and Edd joined us there. Delightful. I love that park man - went there loads as a kid. They just spent loads of money on it. Went paddling in the fountains, climbed all over the peace pagoda (which I just love man – Eastern philosophy yarr yarr yarr) and visited some of the old haunts. Kev had this wicked picnic bag – plates, knives, forks, serves as a wine cooler etc. We had a nice bottle of dry white, and me and Kev got some wicked food. On my insistence there was taramasalata and guacamole, Kev chose some great pate and we kind of came to a consensus on the cheese (Stilton and also goat’s cheese). Some fantastic cured meats and then breads to die for (olive breads, four cheese bread and breads with garlic/onion/pepper baked in). Yum but, you know, kerr-ching. Then pretzels+dip and some melon with a spot of Pimms before a longish walk and a little bit of Frisbee. A bit of time spent in Chelsea for a game of knock-down-ginger (but we decided it was either not clever or not funny or both) before we went our separate ways and me and Kev got a train back to Waterloo (got some vanilla milk and then, yep, some more beer) before we got home and Tecken-ed it up. I more than made up for my previous humiliation at the hands of Edd by basically not allowing Kev (who has played the game twice in his life) up off the floor for the entire game. It’s kind of like playing a five-year-old at football and playing to win, but god damn I did win – mullered the bastard.
“What? It’s a lesson he’s gotta learn sooner or later. Oh he was not THAT upset.”

Then mother and John drove us to West Byfleet to meet Grandma and we had some more food and, sigh, some more beer at the Jovial Sailor before I got my train back here. On the way, the football being in full swing, the streets were deserted, and I therefore took the opportunity to sing some Frank Sinatra away from prying ears. I crooned and I swooned and, may I say, was so affected by my performance that I fell quite in love with myself, and we have eloped to his bachelor pad.

With all the love in the world, and with the advice to just keep those busy hands to yourself, I must now leave you now my dearest Mycroft.
Good bye my dearest encumbrance,
(take it easy dudes)

Prof S. Hargreeves Blog

Blogged in the UK for a crisp, distinctive flavour.