The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

"Happy New Year.. well, in 40 minutes!"
23:20 Dec 31 2008
Times Read: 967

News Years Eve found me sitting before the PC shortly before twelve, warmer than I’d been all day. And, as I imagined, my Father was in bed, whilst my Mother (thank Frell!) was sitting up, in the living-room, watching them see the New Year around the world on tv, ready to see it in with me. Though, I’m still a tad confused as to how they shoved an extra second on this next year, to accommodate the curvature of the Earth, or something like that. Just, sounds painful.. somehow.

"If you could do what I can do.. you wouldn't do it."
00:21 Dec 31 2008
Times Read: 969

I phoned Karl, “Are you busy?”

“Am watching a film…”

“I’ll just be a sec..”

“…”

Just had to say ‘thank you’, ‘Golden Compass’ is excellent!”

“You’ve only just seen it??”

**Shakes head – an action lost over the phone**

“Yeah well, Part One. The computer didn’t like disc two…”

“…”

“Well, it kinda like stopped and…”



* *



Later:



Examining the disc he takes from the draw, the problem immediately becomes apparent. It transpires that the backing to the last of the discs in the pack had become attached to the disc and he had been trying to record over, or through it. Uh-uh. Silly.



* *

"Gawd.. I wanna slap Beyonce!!"
16:40 Dec 30 2008
Times Read: 987

I’ve just had the sheer misfortune, to hear Beyonce’s new song, ‘If I were a boy.’

Well, put the gun in my hands, I’d shoot her, or at the very least, given the opportunity, slap her silly face!

The song, her song, perpetuates almost every myth about men and I consider it a reprehensible piece of, what you put your feet in, even though it’s now illegal.



* *



BEYONCE - “IF I WERE A BOY” LYRICS

If I were a boy

Even just for a day

I’d roll outta bed in the morning

And throw on what I wanted then go

Drink beer with the guys

And chase after girls

I’d kick it with who I wated

And I’d never get confronted for it.

Cause they’d stick up for me.

[Chorus]



If I were a boy

I think I could understand

How it feels to love a girl

I swear I’d be a better man.

I’d listen to her

Cause I know how it hurts

When you lose the one you wanted

Cause he’s taken you for granted

And everything you had got destroyed



If I were a boy

I could turn off my phone

Tell everyone it’s broken

So they’d think that I was sleepin’ alone

I’d put myself first

And make the rules as I go

Cause I know that she’d be faithful

Waitin’ for me to come home (to come home)

(Chorus)

It’s a little too late for you to come back

Say its just a mistake

Think I’d forgive you like that

If you thought I would wait for you

You thought wrong



(Chorus)





But you’re just a boy

You don’t understand

Yeah you don’t understand

How it feels to love a girl someday

You wish you were a better man

You don’t listen to her

You don’t care how it hurts

Until you lose the one you wanted

Cause you’ve taken her for granted

And everything you have got destroyed

But you’re just a boy





* *



People, well some people [Editors note: “the ignorant”] seem to think that men don’t feel, ‘like women do.’ No, we don’t. We feel like people feel.

I was betrayed, cheated on, hurt. It hurts still, don’t mind saying.

But, drivel like that song!

Fukkit, it’s condescending, patronizing and generally playing on a male stereotype.

I mean, should I think ‘all women are like the ex’? Of course not.

Are all men ‘like that’?? Equally not.

But, these stereotypes exist: and, they do damage.

And, song’s like that one, they perpetuate a stereotype, the very thing that should be fought. Rant over…

Trawling...
13:18 Dec 30 2008
Times Read: 993

Trawling, as you do, I saw this..

"Excuse me.. I have minds and lives to warp!"

..

And boy, was I in fits of laughter. It fits me!!



**Grins**

... can't come out to play today
17:48 Dec 29 2008
Times Read: 997

I phoned Karl, at about 11:00 on Sunday to say ‘I can’t come out to play today.’

Janet had phoned the previous day, to say that she’d be calling on the way back from Wales, if I wanted her to call round. Well, having said ‘yes’, I had to be ready, in time, for a change. As it transpired, Karl had been going to phone at about 1:00, to say he’d the with ‘the kid’s.’

When Janet and John called down, I filled the flask, as they cleared a space in the car for me in the back. Needless to say, I ended up sitting with her named, rather large toy dogs. Though they were good with me. **Grins**

Instead of going to the beach, we went a walk down the ‘local’ woods, the Eastham Country Park, walking through the car parks and onto the path at the side of the river, through where it’s been opened up since I was a child.

Mid-point, we stopped and had a cocoa-break and I persuaded Janet to take my picture for me, to show that I’d been there.

We carried on, to spot the kids with a fire in the woods, before carrying on down by the side of the road way a-way, before cutting off and heading back to the woods and the car parks and finally, the pub ‘The tap’ where a thousand years ago, or more, I’d hung out with bikers and assorted heads.

The beer was as good as I recalled and I’d sat and sipped in the pool-room, as I had, watching, just watching, people who weren’t so different from the people I recalled.

Then it’d been time to find the car and return home, for tea and cake.

The cake had been good, but saying goodbye was bad.

Having rested, I went to the back-room and the pc, to do as I do, but at 1:00 I had remembered that I had to put the milk-bottle out. So I left my emails and went to the kitchen, to get the milk-bottle. When I went out the front door, I saw my next-door-but-one neighbour, putting his grey bin out.

“Hello,” I’d called out and he’d responded by answering the fellow passing by.

The fellow passing by had been in as inebriated mood as my neighbour and shouted ‘good morning’, but when I’d called his name again, he’d turned around, looking confused.

So, I’d hopped over the hedge and went over to him, bad move. He’s as persuasive as my Mother used to find his Mother and soon I’d been invited in and was drinking Chilean red wine. (Personally I think he finds me a curiosity, as a trainee psychiatric nurse): and, I stumbled in around two hours later.

... plans!
01:38 Dec 28 2008
Times Read: 1,006

... tomorrow, I'm gonna see a penfriend and her fella and goto the beach. I hope.

Bottle thrown into pub
01:02 Dec 28 2008
Times Read: 1,011

Bottle thrown into pub – last night.



A 19-year old man has been arrested on suspicion of murder after a mother-of-three was hit by a bottle thrown into a Manchester pub.

Emma O'Kane, 27, died after her neck was slashed by a shard of glass.

She was celebrating her partner's birthday at the Queen Anne Hotel where she used to work.

Police said a bottle was thrown by a man who had been refused entry and was arguing with doormen.

It apparently hit a pillar inside the bar and shattered.

Her distraught partner, 38-year old Michael Shepherd, described her as the love of his life, saying: "She really was an angel and now my soul mate's been taken away I wonder what we're all going to do without her."

Three children, Reece, six, Jack, two, and Ellie May, one, have lost their mother.



**



“Hospitals and prisons see the results of this sort of aclcohol-fuelled violence, yet the damn stuff is legal and cannabis is not. Aw wot, let’s get bloody real!! Cannabis so I read, was in part made illegal at the behest of those in big business, whilst ‘they’ kept using opiates. I could go on, but another needless life lost to someone who’ll ‘blame the booze’, it’s wrong: it has to stop.”

.. a lucky puppy.
00:18 Dec 27 2008
Times Read: 1,013

Sitting here cross-legged and bare-foot before the laptop, I mull over the Season, knowing full well, there’s a red wine, waiting for me, in the kitchen, just calling my name. ‘twas the family Christmas I wanted. I'm a lucky puppy. I got what I wanted. An, how rarely can we say that!?!

My Wish for You in 2009 ~ Sent to me, I'm passing it on.. nice sentiment:)
23:19 Dec 26 2008
Times Read: 1,015




May peace break into your house and may thieves come to steal your debts. May the pockets of your jeans become a magnet of $100 bills. May love stick to your face like Vaseline and may laughter assault your lips! May your clothes smell of success like smoking tires and may happiness slap you across the face and may your tears be that of joy. May the problems you had forget your home address!

In simple words ............



Happy New Year for 2009

‘The Next Doctor’
00:47 Dec 26 2008
Times Read: 1,023

Up at nine, or so; I dressed at 12:00, or so; with lots of presents and coffee and sherry and a chocolate in-between, till 1:00 a good Australian red wine and a beautiful turkey roast. And yes, the wine slayed me, as I’d expected it to: so I was grateful that when I woke up and found my clock, it only said 5:15, or so; and I hadn’t missed Doctor Who. Ah, this years Doctor Who Christmas Special: it was, special that is.

Titled ‘The Next Doctor’, it had David Morrisey, in a role that many have written of, that of the next Doctor Who. Grant you, it was all part of a script, by ‘the big camp Welshman’, whose name always escapes me [Editor’s note: Russell T. Davis, you fool!] There were lots of references in the story to the Doctor’s past, in a story written for both current viewers and aged fans of the show, like myself.

And, much as I’d like to write more I won’t, as some people still haven’t seen the show so far: ‘ah, the misfortune of those poor benighted souls.’



Yet, saying that: for a change, after the programme was shown on BBC1, I had turned to BBC3 to watching ‘Doctor Who: Confidential’, the making of the show.

It was interesting to hear Russell T. Davis talking about the end of his tenure on the show, which he gave back to us, the fans.



What was it he said?? “..he is a legend.”



Later I watched ‘Cool Running’, [Editor’s note: “travel in peace”] as I sat to write, the story of the first Jamaican bobsled team, a good, funny, inspiring story.

I just loved it. Kinda like ‘Rocky’ with rasta: and, laughs.

And though there were laughs, as I say, I’m not too embarrassed to admit than when they crossed the line with the bobsled over their shoulders, I wept for them.



“I can see clearly now…”

Mother's dilemma!
00:21 Dec 25 2008
Times Read: 1,027

Straightening the folk’s duvet, I heard the phone ring. So I let it ring. It was Christmas Eve, with my day planned out, so I hardly needed any distractions.

‘11:30 pick-up the other half of ‘lil Mothers prescription; come home, put entry on VR, then goto Jobclub.’ And, the phone rang.

The folks had left it to me, as he it to me, as he painted the inside of the draw at the base of the cooker; and ‘lil Mother tidied after him, as she alwat’s has.

“Is that Neil?” said a voice I recognized.

“It’s Simon from Sencia, [Editors note: ‘Jobclub’] You’ve a session this afternoon…”

“Yes.”

“Well, we’ll be closed.”

“Oh. Erm. Happy Christmas.”

So, I put the receiver down and went to make another coffee, to replace the cold one I was about to finish.

Midpoint to the kitchen I learnt more from ‘lil Mother of her dilemma, which she’d inadvertently caused when she made a donation to a local charity shop, of a roasting dish, big enough for the turkey they’d bought. Oh.

So there was my Father was, coat on, ready to go out and remedy ‘lil Mothers dilemma, when I thought to ask, “Any chance of picking up the prescription.”

Sorted. Yet, although I was pleased at the turn of events, it left me with time on my hands and, a mission to fulfil,

I had been going goto Wallasey, to drop off Jill’s present after Jobclub. And now, there was no ‘Jobclub.’

I finished the coffee, as the folks went out, then retired to my room, to finish getting ready to go out. Image and pockets, that was the order of the day.

Needing pockets, for presents and sweets; and gloves, etc; I chose the brown leather, over which I wore the pseudo-leather thigh length black jacket and the green polo-neck I’ve hardly removed in the last two days.

So ready at last, with a plan in mind, I left the house. And it amuses me still, as I write, that when I purchased my Saveaway, I had paused momentarily, to ask the date, to scratch out ‘n seal down.

And yes, Christmas Eve being the last day on Earth, that people could shop, they were packed, as packed could be.

Although, that said, there was plenty to see, including meeting Rosie and her partner, the fellow I’m supposed to look like.

Uh-huh.

Now there was a similarity, even I could pick out.

Then I went looking for a whiskey and crossing the road, I heard my name called.

So I looked round, to see the fella I thought had cheated me, whose missus had cheated on him; who seems happy right now.

Then I went travelling, again.

I went to Wallasey Village, found Jill’s address, posted her present and begun the return journey, walking to find a bus-stop.

Again, there was a lot to see, including, back in town, the ex, of the fella I’d thought had cheated me. Finally, back home, I ate well and watched ‘Resident Evil’ again, as I wrapped my Fathers present, ready for tomorrow.

Sometimes, it’s not the journey; it’s the destination.
00:04 Dec 25 2008
Times Read: 1,028

Months ago I was in Beyond in Birkenhead, standing in the sorner by the window and the counter, talking to Nick. Mid-point through a sentence, a bouncey, short bleached-blonde arrived at my left. And, I knew I had known her, Simple as. But, the connection just couldn’t be made, annoying as that was. Anyway’s, yesterday I was in the shop, bemoaning that I’d be having a dry Christmas and who had bounced in before me, but the same bouncey, bleached-blonde. And, she’d rooted in her tin, to ensure that I had something, when I’d had nothing, as she said to me, “You need more, I can help.” ‘How kind of her,’ I’d thought.

Then on the way home, I met the street-sweeper who’d quite a bit of green and let me have some. So having been given bleach-blonde’s number I phoned to say I’d be round. And boy was that journey strange. It was like going back in time, when I’d go to the pub, the admiral, down on the riverfront, except that I’d turn a right and not a left, to a rode, of houses that were big and beautiful and set in a leafy surround.

Getting to her flat had been a good one, set at the rear of the property, then up a an iron stairwell, at the top of which I’d had a wonderful view of the area and river.

As she had shown me round, I was stoked with the flat, which was such a fine remnant of a different time. When I saw one small room and it’s with tall Gothic-style window, she’d said, “They’re throughout.”

When I’d said, “I’d love to wake up to that view” she had responded with “Well, you’ll have to come round one evening for drinks, so you can.”

Rosie had told me at one point that I looked like her partner and after I’d seen a photo of the fellow, I figured I saw why: he’s as gaunt as I am.

Vodka and Coke had flowed, (well, two glasses) as we compared notes on smoking style and people we knew. We had hung with many of the same people and hung out in many of the same places and there it was, the connection: Mandy. Well, Mandy and Storm, her daughter; and her friend Sam; and their babysitter Jan, whose well loved.

... a walk, with me
23:46 Dec 22 2008
Times Read: 1,034

I got to Mandy’s about an hour later than when I’d said I would. I’d had a little adventure on the bus journey and got more than a tad diverted by a ‘proper-diver’, with helmet and everything, from The Shetlands, renewing old haunts, for Christmas.

Anyway, I was pole-axed by how her daughters had grown. And, at one point recall saying, “How about coming a walk, with me?”

The weather had been quite mild, but Mandy’s a busy Lady and suggested I deliver my two Christmas cards on my own. Bad move. Me let loose, without a leash, anything is possible, as the bus journey illustrated, well the can of beer had, after the fella decided “… he’s alright he is” to his mate, then added, “give him a beer.”

So I’d gone walkies. I called on Andy, Vicky’s younger brother, as well as da-da, Simons. He was in, playing games and another was there, also an acquaintance of Simon and after awhile, I learnt that Karma had obliged me, by biting his ass.

Well, that was it, I was officially distracted, so got to Vicky’s later than expected, “Can’t stay long” I’d said, as I proffered their card.

Then, the phone rang, Mandy: “Yes, he’s here. Though, in all fairness, he did say he’s not stopping.” I had been quite awhile, it seems.

So, I left and walked fast, then soon found myself drinking a fine Chilean Red and eating Pizza.

When I got to bed, Mandy had pointed out the automatic masseuse type-couch thing, that I could try, if I wanted. So to the sound of riverflow in my ears, I had. And boy, had my lower back liked it. It had liked it so much, that I’d woken feeling very relaxed, about twenty minutes later.

So, I went to bed, pretty well my first time staying overnight anywhere other than home, in well over ten years. And, one of those times had been at Mandy’s old place.

Next morning, was a lift, in her beautiful car, to jobclub, where I’d actually found a job, or two, to apply for.

But later, oh later.. I’d seen Graham, with a business deal to suit and then, Pia, my pen-friend from Sweden rang. And, I’d finished a re-write of a story in my head, that I’d lost in hard-copy. Aye, just definitely one of your better two day’s.

... we watched ‘Forbidden Kingdom’, again.
15:54 Dec 21 2008
Times Read: 1,045

Friday Mandy phoned. Mandy of the hugs and purple. “You coming round before Christmas??” “Er, yes.” “When??” “Er.. Er..” “You can stay over, we have a spare room. So when??” “Sunday.” “Okay, see you then.”

Saturday Michael called round and we watched ‘Forbidden Kingdom’, again.

I rate that movie highly. It was obviously mad by a fan, who appreciated the genre in the ‘70’s, because of the many references to stuff I know.

All that and the fight fans of martial arts fans have waited years to see, between Jet Li and Jackie Chan, which didn’t disappoint.

This Thursday I ...
23:40 Dec 19 2008
Times Read: 1,053

This Thursday I faced the journey to the project with more than a degree of trepidation, particularly in light of the other week. The thing was, I’d also arranged to meet Anne at 4:45p.m. or so I’d thought. Yet, when I got to Liverpool Central, no Anne: and, unlike me, her record is good for timing for meet-ups. So I had waited half an hour. It wasn’t until much later, as I was half way through cooking the meal that Anne had arrived. It seems, I should have waited to a response from her email.

As it was, on my own arrival, Roger had greeted me at the door. He had been cordial, but a tad frosty. Well, mood aside, I went to be busy and help see to the Christmas Meal, so that is what I had done. I’d got busy. And, at the end of the night, I got paid, as several people said ‘Thank you, for doing what you do.’

That had been my reason for going, nerves, or not. What I hadn’t expected, was that that we’d be taken out, for our ‘staff meal.’ I hadn’t known, obviously, as I’m assuming it had been finalized the previous week. But, in an attempt at being amenable, I went with Roger, John and Mina, Nadia and Anne, still hobbling on a crutch, to the Chinese restaurant that we’d been to previously.

The food had been excellent, the staff attentive and the taste’s were incredible.

(Each of us had our order on a revolving table, in the centre of our table, that we took our servings from, as it turned.) At the end of the night, as we said our goodbyes for two weeks, I made a point of shaking Roger’s hand.

‘Immortal’
23:15 Dec 17 2008
Times Read: 1,065

In the mood for watching something that was as good as I considered ‘Residential Evil: Degeneration’, I dug out a movie I haven’t watched for awhile.

‘Immortal’, starring Linda Hardy, Charlotte Rampling and Thomas Kretchmann is one of the most innovative CGI movies I ever seen.

Directed by it’s creator and writer Enki Bilal, with it’s origins in Metal Hurlant magazine, the story is wonderfully envisaged in the movie, with I got to see when it was reprinted in parts, in Heavy Metal magazine, way back in the seventies.I can only imagine, that it took nearly thiry yrears, to get the technology together to make this film, made in 2004, that lovingly recreates the strip.

I recall even now, how I used to search out issues of the magazine, just to read a little bit more of that wonderfully drawn strip, as I had followed the story of Nikopol the subversive; Horus, given Life for seven day’s; and Jill, something else, indeed.



The imagery of the pyramid floating above the futuristic metropolis is the one that holds dear, at the forefront of my mind, well, that and the naked cat lady, who watched Horus arise from his golden sarcophagus, at the beginning of the film.



To find out more of the writer and director ~



http://www.paulgravett.com/articles/052_bilal/052_bilal.htm

The Christmas Meal
22:59 Dec 17 2008
Times Read: 1,066

I’d been wondering about whether or not I’d be doing voluntary work this week.

Well, after a phone-call, from a friend, it seems that the volunteer coordinator expects me, this Thursday. That news had pleased me, as it’s the Christmas Meal.

... the jury is out.
16:26 Dec 16 2008
Times Read: 1,072

After days of deliberation, the jury is out: and the killer of eleven year old Reece Jones, Sean Mercer has been found guilty. Furthermore, the six people accused of covering up his actions have also been found guilty.



Shot in the car park of the Fairtee Public House in Croxteth Liverppol, Reece Jones had been walking home from football training, when he had been caught up in the feud between two gangs, with a cover-up by those six, which Merseyside Police had successfully police investigated, over a long period of time.



Throughout the whole trial his parents, Melanie and Stephen and their other son Owen, have shown a quiet dignity, that I respect highly. I seriously hope this young lad’s killer will not be treated as kindly as the killers of the toddler James Bulger.



So, I’d eagerly awaited hearing the verdicts, relieved to hear that he was given twenty two (22) years and some of those accused at his side were given seven years each.

.. decisive, indecisiveness
00:18 Dec 15 2008
Times Read: 1,076

I'm more relaxed than I had been.. it's been a weird ride to today.

.. one needs to feel 'safe'
14:22 Dec 14 2008
Times Read: 1,090

I'm still irked about voluntary work.. I want to return, for the Christmas Meal, but I'm not overly fond of aggression and need to feel 'safe'... but it's sunny and I hear the train calling me to travel..

..hubris
14:31 Dec 13 2008
Times Read: 1,105

..panic began, when I thought I'd lost my camera, then having seen the side pouch to my bag was open, I presumed it stolen...I tried everyplace in the house. nowhere. then I went out, to empty the bin: and there it was, behind the Ladybird on the fence. (That large plastic ladybird can hold the camera, so I can speak to it and say what I want..) And, the last time I used it, was to do a message for someone that they didn't get.. and I guess that explains why. Thing is, it's been outside for day's.

..journey's and all they can be: at least, this one.
01:28 Dec 13 2008
Times Read: 1,114

I got back home about 7:00 on Friday evening, after going to town, to get salt and wrapping paper. My Dad opened the door to me and the first words out of my mouth were: “That’s my adventure for the week.”

I’d been on the train home, when it had stopped, just outside of the Port Sunlight platform and on the way to Spital.

“The track has been discharged, due to an incident at Bromborough,” came over the tannoy. It seemed the police had been called.

And then the wait began.

Needless to say, there was one awkward so-and-so, there always is: he’d been effin and blinding and lit up a smoke.

And though tensions were high as time went by, most people were in reasonable humour.

Then we heard the coroner had been called.

And, yet more time passed.

Then the twerp with the loud voice managed to open the doors, nearest to me and left the train, with about five other passengers.

Well, the a girl with tied back short dark hair, ugg boots and too tight jeans, stood in the open door to enjoy a cigarette; and, as the need for nicotine had got to me by then, I went to join her.

It transpires that the loud fellow had been her ex and as she apologised, I’d said, ‘No need’, thinking momentarily of my own psycho-ex.

As I went back to my seat, I’d said ‘Oh-boy,’ I needed, that.

The young lady in the window seat, half-turned to me and called me an ‘idiot’ by comparing me to the other young man who had been smoking.

That had irked me, but I’d shut up and left her to it.

“The crime scene investigators have been called,” we heard next.

And yet more time passed, until a young lady came up to the driver in front of us, to ask the driver if she could have the door open to have a smoke.

He said ‘yes’ and invited her and the others, who wanted to smoke into the cab, where he’d opened the side windows.

At the point, Miss no-smoker stood up and stumbled over me, in her hurry to escape the smokers and nearly tipped up goodstyle.

I shouldn’t have smiled. She’d had a point of view, just not mine.

And, I settled back into my seat, as yet more time passed.

Then, over the tannoy came the news that we’d be leaving the train, via the doors at the back.

This was accomplished efficiently, without panic: and, soon I’d been stepping down the ladders, to join the other passengers walking down to the track to Port Sunlight station, behind the girl, in the too tight jeans, who I offered a cigarette to.

Well, as we stood, cold and shivering, I became glad that I talk so much, as I mentioned a lack of busfare and a lack of desire in calling my Father, for a lift, to a fellow passenger.

“Where’d you live?” she asked.

“Bromborough,” I’d told her.

“My son’s coming to pick me up,” says she, “do you want a lift?”

“Yes please!” I’d replied eagerly.

And that’s what had happened: I’d got a lift to Bromborough Station Car Park, where she was to pick up her car.

A five minute walk home and I arrived home, knocked on the door and with very cold hands, knocked and the front window, to get some attention.

My Dad had opened the door to me and with a smile, the first words out of my mouth had been: “That’s my adventure for the week.”



* *

.. a moral, in the tale??
01:06 Dec 13 2008
Times Read: 1,115

My Dad had said, “Don’t do the windows, your hands will freeze…”

The blue-sky had turned somewhat grey, in places, the sun covered by cloud.

Though the weather had no longer been as fine as it had been, I’d made the decision to clean them: and, the windows did need doing.

“Aw c’mon, it’s not that bad. And, my hands aren’t cramping, so why not?”

I’d thought back to why I like to do the windows and said to him, “Aw c’mon, you don’t know what it’s like to lose the use of a hand.”

Then, just before I’d reached the end of the sentence, I remembered, of course he knew what it’s like.

He’d been a joiner; and, had an operation to give him a grip back, in his right hand.

And, as I did the windows I thought back on all that and thought to myself:

“Ah, there’s a moral in there somewhere…”

Courtesy of a conversation with a nice young Lady.
14:23 Dec 11 2008
Times Read: 1,124

I have windows to do on a chilly day: then go out to poison the homeless.



"And.. if thy right eye offends you.. TAKE IT OUT!"



- The Dynamaite Man From Glory Jail.



Yep, I even tried to write my own western and have been brought up around antiques and weaponry for most of my life.

Good Morning xx
00:54 Dec 11 2008
Times Read: 1,131

By the end of this Wednesday, I sat watching ‘Transporter 2’, which I know I like, since I saw part of it the other day. And, I need the diversion, as my sinuses are playing up and the day had started strangely. There’s a good word for it: ‘strangely.’

If someone sends an SMS mobile message to a landline, the phone rings and you get an automated operator telling you to press such and such a number to hear it. And, the phone in the back, which I’d answered, wearing just my duvet, has no touch-tone facility. So, at 5:30 a.m. I couldn’t find out what my message was.

Needless to say, just a few hours later, I had got the call again.

This time I padded through to the kitchen and pressed ‘1’ when told to.

‘Good Morning xx’ had been the message.

And briefly, once or twice, on the way back to bed, I had wondered if the ex is playing games, again. It might’ve explained ‘Gary from Carlett Park’ who had phoned the other day and asked about me: ‘coz strangely enough, I don’t know a Gary, from Carlett Park.’

Anyway’s, I did find a job to try for. That’s good, particularly after that damn worktrial. Might be just a cut n paste clerk, but hey, it’s summat to try for and, tomorrow’s voluntary work, which is good. It’s the week before the Christmas meal and knowing Lilly, she’ll have me prepping for next week, as well as help her cook this week. That is, if Roger hasn’t got presents for the lads to unload an all.

Aye, the ‘lad’s,’ they’ve been cleaning up in front of the church nowaday’s and crappy sinus or not, I’ll be going along as normal, just to see if they do so this week.

“Once upon a time, not so long ago, there was a little girl named Emily…”
13:35 Dec 09 2008
Times Read: 1,137

Oliver Postgate has died, at the age of 83, this week. He entertained generations of children, with his characters.



He created Ivor the Engine, which was broadcast in 1959, followed by Pogles Wood and The Clangers.



He also created Bagpuss.



“Once upon a time, not so long ago, there was a little girl named Emily…”



And, who can’t forget Professor Yaffle, the old wise woodpecker/bookend.



Oliver Postgate made his last film in 1987, saying tv bosses were no longer interested in his style of film-making anymore. That said, Bagpuss and the like were children’s favourites for many years.

win32.Rapido
13:18 Dec 09 2008
Times Read: 1,139

Monday night the computer, my Heinz 57 tower, froze, locked up and threw me out of VR a couple of times; which was most frustrating, when you’re mid-conversation.

It transpires I’d acquired a win32.Rapido, a particularly pernicious, malicious bit of adaware. It’s gone now, but boy was it frustrating having the darn thing stay over awhile.

.. you skeletonal s*d!
00:05 Dec 09 2008
Times Read: 1,148

Gawd, when you finally acquire what you want, don’t dwell on it. Enjoy it, but don’t stare in the mirror afterwards. Scary. I did just that awhile back. Now I’ll lie awake all night. “That’s what you get, for stretching those muscles & looking like skin over bone, you skeletonal sod!”) Erm, am I interrupting you two. No. ‘No.’ Well, there’s a journal, to write. No, not tonight. I’ve… had a very nice evening.

Resident Evil: Degeneration
09:05 Dec 08 2008
Times Read: 1,164

Although I'm not a gamer, I am a fan of all three films, particularly 2 and 3.

So, it was with great interest that I acquired the film, 'Resident Evil: Degeneration'. Made in pure CGI, it's a prequel to the first film and struck me as visually stunning, with a plotline that explains much of the background to the series of films (and game). All in all, it's acquisition was fortunate.

I hadn't realised tht CGI had moved on quite this far: so far, that I found myself suspending my disbelief, for awhile, in what is real and not: and, empathising with CGI charaters, in a world of pure CGI. It was all the more remarkable, to see a characters development, who later appears in the third film. Aye, call me impressed. Simply put, it is a film that I'd recommend to watch, when it comes out. It's good.

... late at night and
08:54 Dec 08 2008
Times Read: 1,165

It's late at night, or early in the morning: and my head is going triple time. Personally I think it's down to the fact that I haven't smoked any weed of late. Or, it could be that I just plain have too much to think of.

Either way, there's no way I can relax.

I keep recalling a quote i used once, to describe myself: "I'm no Alpha male, but I'm the best Beta you'll ever meet." And, the problem, if it is such, is that if and when I see an Alph, who sts themselves up as better than others, I try to do something about it.

Right now, I'm calling it the Don Quixote Syndrome: and, I have it, in spades.

There's no question about it, I am forever tilting at windmills, seeing the dragons the others do not see.

And boy, sometimes, it causes menothing but strife.

I mean, take recent events for example: someone insults a coven member on VR, then my Mother, when i try to help, then any friends who try to help me. And, what happens, he finds support from people I know and have grown to like. Call me really naive, but that just doesn't make sense to me.

What is it about people, when they attempt to defend the indefensible??

Like I said, call me naive, 'coz it it jut doesn't make sense to me, none whatsoever.

Rating and me.
00:23 Dec 07 2008
Times Read: 1,188

When I rate some I “rate,” I do so because I’ve identified with a facet of what I’ve seen or read..

..some are a pleasure to rate.

I need to wash my hands, my pages are all Stikki
13:06 Dec 06 2008
Times Read: 1,212

The fellow has to be a Pisces, or a Scorpio, as he’s obsessed. And, as someone who’s an obsessive, I can recognise it in others. He’s truly obsessed, absolutely...



I logged on yesterday, after feeling low for day’s, to find that he’s still trawling my journal, leaving obscenities.



First it was a teen, from my coven, then My Mother, now anyone who attempts to see my point of view: to him, they’re all c**t’s. The first was one thing, the second quite childish: and now to log on and see his drivel left in my comments box was, a tad irksome!!!



Needless to say, when I find one of these bits of verbal detritus, I just press the button that deletes the comments entry.



But, ‘Geez,’ my Mother would say his mouth needs soap and washing out and you know, she’d be right… And, I know it’d be easier, for me, just to ignore the fellow. I just think it’s wrong that he thinks it’s alright to use that word to women.



In my world, you don’t defend the indefensible. And, he his manner is indefensible.

“Well I gotta go again, I need to wash my hands, my pages are all Stikki…”

.. a f**ck up!
00:31 Dec 06 2008
Times Read: 1,229

‘Wouldn’t it be nice, if when someone asks for something, they’re already aware of what they want??’ Was my thought, on my journey home from Moreton and the work-trial.

I mean, except for the foul weather, the day had started well enough. And I had said to the fellow, “..don’t expect me to know it all within two weeks.”

‘All,’ I n this case, had been the hodge-podge of a computer system the fellows business partner had come up with, to solve their problems. And, no sooner had I learnt how to do one thing, than another problem presented itself. All in all, it was very frustrating. Then, toward the end of the day, it seemed that ‘personable’ as I am, it seems, I’m not up to the task at hand: “And, I have the girl’s pay to see to and they’re paid by commission.” And As I told him, ‘alright, no prob,’ I also added that whoever came after me would have the same problem, having to relearn have to use someone else’s homebuilt system, retrospectively.

(As to the work trial.. a fuck up! It was an unpaid work trial, to show I could do it, as it was someone else's system & with no instruction, I had to learn it.

He wasn't willing to give me the chance, which in hindsight was unfair; as I was grasping it... but, after a few hours... his decision was not to carry on, with a work trial.)

At least the weather on the homeward journey was okay.

Yet, talking of the weather, it changed rapidly, again, as I went out to the project.

John and Mina were back from China, which was cool.

And, we have a new volunteer, Nadia from Venice, part Afghan, who speaks German.

She seems alright: but, I wonder how long she’ll last??

Then once home, I had eaten, though I hadn’t felt like cooking again: then had answered Karl’s message, ‘Will you check your email?’

He had finished his essay and needed my assistance: and, it felt good to be needed.

..change!
23:41 Dec 03 2008
Times Read: 1,238

I start a work trial next week. So I went to Sencia, (jobclub) and someone said that the dole mightn’t let me arrange my own work-trial. That didn’t do me any good to hear that. Thankfully, when I got to the dole, they were more than helpful. I go in tomorrow, to learn what's what and where, before voluntary work. I'm terrified.. it means such change.

She is the shape of thing’s to come.
23:36 Dec 03 2008
Times Read: 1,240

Dark Angel: Document Number: 54332



Barcode Number: 332960073452



Series: X5 - 452



Name: Max Quevarra



POB: Gillette, Wyoming



Search:

2020



Mission Status:

Classified



Current Status:

Unknown



Current Presumed Location:

Seattle



In the year 2020, in the wake of the pulse, an electronic shockwave set off by nuclear terrorists. The U.S. is nothing but a broke, ex-super power. This is Max’s world…

It is an unforgiving place, even for a genetically engineered soldier like herself.

On the run from her military creators and still searching for the others like her, Max joins forces with the ideal cyber-journalist ‘Eyes Only’ in his crusade against repression and corruption.

“Anyone know about Reprographics?”
21:55 Dec 02 2008
Times Read: 1,250

On Monday I heard someone in the room say, “Anyone know about Reprographics?”

Needless to say, I said ‘Yes.’

Shortly after that, I’d phoned up about the job and ended up having a brief interview on the phone. Then, when I went home, I got a phone-call, which led to an interview in Moreton, between hail, rain and occasional sun.

And boy was it cold today: though the weather wasn’t as bad as some had.

On the radio, first thing in the morning, I heard that it was snowing in Ramsbottom.

And, maybe it wasn’t funny for them, but Ramsbottom?

It always makes me laugh.



**



The BBC was back apologising today after Doctor Who actor John Barrowman exposed himself on a live Radio 1 show which was recorded on webcam.

Ten days after the corporation’s management insisted it had learnt its lesson on lewd content from the Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand scandal, Switch show presenter Nick Grimshaw invited his guest to reveal himself.

The actor, who has his own Doctor Who spin-off show - Torchwood, later told listeners: “I didn’t take the whole thing out, but I got my fruit and nuts out.”



http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/tv_and_radio/article5268821.ece

C.S.I. and toiletry.
23:55 Dec 01 2008
Times Read: 1,266

As I got ready to go out to job-club; I went to the bathroom to do my teeth and I recalled an episode of C.S.I. In the story, DNA had been retrieved from the bottle of mouthwash, as ‘most people’ swill straight from the bottle. Well, that being the case I poured an amount that I’d use, into the bathroom beaker. I had then swilled my mouth, from its contents. Blame Grissom.