Yep, it's that time of year again. The end of October approaching Novermber and [drum roll] NaNoWriMo. After last years debacle - well, I suppose I was recording an album ... but that's no excuse - where I failed, I swore I would grow up, become sensible, buy a dressing gown, carpet slippers, a pipe, and retire.
I had a relation who smoked a pipe. Nice chap. My Aunt's husband. The thing was I hardly ever saw him as he was generally surrounded by a cloud of acrid, billowing smoke. So, I don't l
Finally, yesterday, we finished shooting a video for 'Spring of Teal'.
I love Apple computers and their software. Final Cut rocks! All I have to do is log and capture the DVs, Sync them and snippety-snip. Easy-peasy! I'll see you next millenia, then.
"I done gone and made a video!" the fool said proudly.
"Good, good," said the cat, flexing her claws and going back to sleep.
And it nearly was good. The thing is that making a video on your own is bleedin' hard. No nifty camera moves, no slow zoom in whilst tracking out. All of the cutesy things you can have fun with with mates are impossible. And then there was the hat's damn label.
I was wearing a hat, and without anyone to point out that its label was showing, the label had a staring role
It's past 2.00am and I'm pondering if I want to get up at 5.00am to watch the last ever episodes of Lost. After all, Lost is a phenomenonenomeything, isn't it? Well yes (he says, answering his own question) it is. I was addicted to the first season - why do they call it a season and not a series? Addicted, and couldn't wait for the second to start. Then, when it did, and as is usual in the UK (curses to all responsible) it was taken off free-to-air and bought by that scuzzoid Rupert Murdoch and
I'm finally starting to write again, which is, quite frankly, an utter Gawdsend, as I'd pondered the thought that perhaps that was it and I'd shot my authorial bolt ... as it were.
Now I know I haven't - or perhaps that should be 'think' rather than 'know' - I'm marginally happier. Not that I haven't been happy ... just a tad depressed.
I went to the doctor last week and told her - I had a choice of a her or a him, and I think if you're going to spill your emotions to a doctor it's probably be
Sunday 11th April. The Awesome Dude Weekend Show No 25
I was as nervous as a very nervous thing, Mick was Mick, and The Dude put us both at our ease. It was the first interview we've done and though I'm only too aware I should have been more ... umm, something, and probably less something else. Anyway, all in all we're ecstatic!
If you want to know what on earth I'm waffling on about then go to Awesome Dude Radio and listen to the 25th weekend show. Go on, you know you want to!
If you've heard the expression 'dipping your pen in the company ink' then you're a better chap (or chapess) than me. Though now I know what it means. Thanks, Jason!
I'm hallucinating and proud - which is, according to the doctor and over the phone, because I have flu (I opened the window and influenza). He said that the best thing for flu is to take two paracetamol every four hours and go to bed. 'Anti Virals?' murmur I, 'Not very efficacious' he says, 'though if you want ...?' I do want. I re
Having moved to a place without a phone line it took an age and a half to get that sorted, and a deal longer to get ADSL up and running. Now, I'm back online and it feels ... mmmmmmmm yummy scrumptious!
We're a five minute walk from the beach. Sadly it isn't sand, but it does have water which is quite an important pre-requisite for a beach. The cats like it, too. A boon, 'cause having sad cats ain't where it's at, at all. AND the garden is small which make mowing the lawn a doddle. I like doddl
A long time ago I read a book called 'Empty World' by John Christopher. It begins with a global pandemic that first kills off all the adults, and later, most of the children. It's the story of how a very small group of survivors gets on. When I first read it I was the age of the book's hero: a teenager. Now that we are about to suffer a real pandemic I find myself in positively the wrong age group. Bollocks!
Much like the public information films about nuclear war that suggested we should l
Joy! We had our budget yesterday. Apparently, those 'in charge' have borrowed - and intend to go on borrowing - an awful lot of dosh. Apparently, the debt equates to over ?17,000 for every man woman and child in the UK. Apparently ....
Sadly, I voted for the inept cretins - though (in my defence) at the time the prime minister wasn't a man with despotic megalomania, and the Chancellor didn't have Caterpillars for eybrows and an Adams' family hairdo.
I intend to declare independen
My brain is being battered by warfare. Muse - bless his cotton socks - wants to do stuff, but me, I can't seem to get it together. I mean, here I am on the computer, typing. But when it comes to putting words in order that do anything close to telling a tale. Pah. So it's off to bloody (and yes it is bloody with the amount of poor beasties I've slaughtered and skinned) Azeroth.
I have three alliance characters that I'm levelling (don't ask me what it means, 'cause I don't really know). One, a H
Having spent a couple of months desolate and bereft of the urge to write anything, other than shopping lists, it appears that my flighty friend, confident, and all-round blithering idiot, Muse, has returned.
W00T I say, and W00T some more.
If you have an addictive personality it's unwise - nay foolish - to start doing anything that is ... erm ... addictive. Obviously. Drugs: been there, done that. Alcohol - though I consider it a drug as much as anything else - the same. Okay, sure, I have the occasional brandy in a cup of coffee, and I've picked the wrong day to give up sniffing glue, but that's my lot. Honestly.
Until, that is, a week ago, and I found WoW.
World of Warcraft is ... well, it's bloody brilliant!
In the UK we have a yearly test for cars called an MOT. In years past, although it was illegal, frowned upon, and you risked getting a big slap, it was not that big a deal if your cars MOT had expired. Now, what with computers and the 1984 Big Brother mentality, you risk severe doo-doo if you don't have one.
Today, my baby Renault Clio failed hers. *sob, wail, gnash, howl*
So I get home and look at the failure sheet (you have 10 days to put the problems right and have a re-test).
'It's not so
Recently I've been somewhat miffed.
The reason being: we lost a hard drive with a months work on it. It was a brand new hard drive and was immediately replaced, but that doesn't replace the music.
Still, on the bright side we've decided it was 'the mysterious finger of God' that fucked us up, and the work we do now will, obviously, be much, much better. We've decided this because otherwise I'd have to kill myself for being a total arse, and frankly, I feint at the sight of blood - especially m
I wrote a 'poem' ... it seemed the thing to do.
There are those I admire who live who far away
Across Oceans and lands vast and stark
Whose wit and friendship oft make my day
And pull me from moods deep and dark
So on Saint Valentine's day I'd like them to know
Their friendship and love matters muchly
To this English prole who would like to bestow
A Lordship at least ... or a Duchy!
My hubristic outburst along the lines of 'shan't write a thing until I've finished a novel na-na-na-na-naaaaaa!' has caused me a lot of grief. So much, in fact, that I'm amazed I haven't exploded - or should that be imploded ... or possiby both?
Anyway, I've given up on it. If I do, then I do. If I don't, then c'est la vie, or somesuch. Life's way too short not to write because I've been a tit. There I've admitted it: I'm a tit.
Let me commend to you www.fawm.org. Lots of fun, and rem
Lord, did I need a hit.
I was cold turkeying - a neat zombiesque dance I've worked out - all the way to the phone socket. With trembling hands I ripped apart the packaging of my new *free* wireless router. Fumbling in haste, I managed to plug in the filters and slip the cable home with a snick!
With antici ...
... pation I powered up and logged on.
Drooling as sweet, glorious bits and bytes flooded my system.
Sweet, sweet WWW.
Yep, with a new ISP I'm back ... oh yes *shudder* I am.
Whatever you happen to call it, may I wish you all a very happy post winter solstice bash. Don't get too drunk, stoned, or whatever ... and if you do, then drink plenty of water before you crash out.
Yes I am, but not quite 100%, which means several thing. No kissing, other than on the neck. So necking, as such, is right on. Actually, I rather like it. M's neck is just scrummy, though his hair - which is rather long - tickled my nose. I aim for right behind the ear, which means if I'm sneaky I get a little nibble on his lobe in as well. Mmm .... Sorry, it's probably way too much information.
We were going to to carry on recording tomorrow, but as M's getting over the same thing - he's two d
I don't get ill a lot, so I'm a really bad patient. I know it. I know it like I know the sun rises in the afternoon and sets when it feels like it. Also I'm told 'you're a bad patient' a lot when I'm ill, so it must be true. And who was it that first decided chicken soup was the panacea of all ills? Whoever it was needs to be ... severely reprimanded. Probably Florence Nightingales uncle - who was on his uppers and had a chicken farm.
Fu-Fu-Fu-Flu is not what I was expecting the last time I smo