Group Sechs

Wetter than my soul

Today is extremely moist. It's horrendous, and to make matters worse the mean nurse stabbed me full of Hep B, Rabies and Japanese Euchieplghlaksdjhsaettious and then force fed me cholera. It tasted like fuzz. I returned home triumphantly full of disease, after I was monitored for 30 minutes in case my heart stopped and my brain swelled of course. I didn't, obviously I'm immortal.

I then set out on the 55 minute journey to brighton. Which took 5 hours, cos of the hippy roads being flooded by the gypsy rain, and then pikey fools, crashing their frickin' lorries into more fools. Eventually I arrived in brighton damn damn late, and me and dan dan icelandic dan rushed to the gig, where we just arrived in time for Hundred Reasons. Exceptionally good! I have the proof in the photographic form:

The day I become organised

Except not in the morning as I failed to do much except browse through some travel brochures, making Shing's house my own. Excellent. Moving swiftly on, I strolled into Sta Travel to meet young Sam (of Sta Travel fame), and we got round to booking everything I wanted to do including:

Flights:

February 7th: London Heathrow to Vancouver
February 12th: Vancouver to Los Angeles
Los Angeles to Nadi, Fiji
February 26th: Nadi, Fiji to Auckland, NZ
March 23rd: Christchurch, NZ to Melbourne, OZ
April 30th: Cairns, OZ to Brisbane, OZ
Brisbane to Singapore
Overland: Malaysia, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Hong Kong, China, South Korea, Japan
August 7th: Tokyo Narita, Japan to London Heathrow

Also I got an OZ Experience coach device up from Melbourne to Cairns, which should be awesome. As well as that, I got a total trip device from Bangkok (Thailand) through Cambodia to Vietnam. Some very interesting places including the temples/tombs where Tomb Raider was filmed, as well as getting to stay with a local family. Whoop.

I then met Shing for some Ritazza in the bottom and went home quite chuffed, until rex destroyed my soul for buying a trip, but I'm down with it for now, tis the only one I going on, and save the hassle of cambodia.

Londondinian

After taking Erika to a slightly disappointing roast dinner as our usual place was out of Roast Beef?! we marched on to Canary Wharf, which as mentioned before I totally love. We walked around outside in the crazy wind for a while then went underground and to Starbucks to chill and chat. Spent a while there comparing countries and explaining all manner of English things, specifically the BBC, but I think we just succeeded in confusing Erika.

Rex then needed to scoot off, so we bid farewell and I took Erika, somehow, to the Tower of London and Tower Bridge without getting lost. Bonus points! Apparently I haven't seen the Tower of London properly before, whoa it's awesome and Tower Bridge is very very English, just how I like it. We wandered along the river, past the HMS belfast, and through to the London Dungeon, Southwark cathedral and then across London Bridge towards Bank. *continues to list places* Then we saw the Bank of England, walked along cheapside, to St Pauls, and wandered back along the river to Charing Cross where we grabbed some yummy Subway.

Afterwards it was sleepy time.

Sleep

Alcohol face party yes yes.

To follow up our day of English show-and-tell we found a very English Pub near Leicester square, or just behind it at least. Beer was had, mainly by me, and possibly young rex, and Erika become rather tipsy after a smirnoff ice and a shot of vodka. We stormed into the Yates, but decided the best bet for everyone was food, so unfortunately we went to Maccy D's, we destroyed my soul somewhat. Horrible stuff, and I ended up eating two burgers via some odd swapping with Erika. Onwards we strove, and unable to get into Yates again, we moved to the Spoons next door, where we drank some more.

Next stop was the Lloyds bar that we've gone to a few times but I can't remember it's exact name, but I quite like it. Randomly Erika started talking to various english people, and somehow found some peeps who knew Beth and James and were from orpington. It's a small world. One guy there reckoned he knew me from somewhere, but he was obviously crazed as I've never seen him and he doesn't go to Orpington as her and his mates "cause trouble" when they drink. After obviously thinking he was really cool and rock hard *rolls eyes* we bid them farewell and returned to our table for more drinkie poos, where Jon joined us in the poisoning of our souls.

Something occurred and we transferred the evening to Mean Fiddler, which had a pretty dope band on followed by the general music of alternative stuff. Erika was affectionate to all of the British race, especially Jon, I got lost trying to find the toilets, and at some point I remember us jumping with some random dude along to some music. Can't remember the music at all.

Afterwards I attempted to get meat and chips, which failed as they gave me strange kebab and chips, and it made us miss our bus *shakes fist*. We then all crash landed at Shing's for the night, and Erika fell asleep with her backpack still on!

Extremely fun evening, check out the photos fools.

Saturday's London Mangle Mash

Met miss Erika slightly later than I was meant to due to forgetting the tube gets proper slashed up at weekends due to repair works. Our first plan of action was to find a memory card selling merchant for her camera, so naturally we tubed to Oxford Street. After wandering around slightly aimlessly, and grabbing some Maccy D's to compare it with America (and who surprisingly banned photos inside), we found that Boots was a shock supplier of such memory units. Afterwards we wandered around some, through Hyde Park, Green Park, to the Palace of Buckingham, St James' Park, and onward through horse guards and onto Westminster. My lack of knowledge about everything was quite blatant, even to the stage I talked to a police with an mp5 sub-machine style gun to ask what Horse Guards was *headdesk*. We chilled outside Buckingham palace for a while, and realised how small it actually is.

Westminster was once again amazing, and the weather was pretty for once. I always love Big Ben (St James' Tower/House of Parliament), possibly my favourite landmark, mainly because of the sheer lunacy of it being right next to the road, the river, the eye, the abbey and Tesco. And it's just beautiful. We strode across the river, via the help of Westminster bridge, and past the London Eye which was shut, and past crazy street performers back across the river along the golden jubilee bridge. Trafalgar square then popped up, and we marvelled at the lions (that aren't real) and watched crazy Russian people setting up some form of event, before walking past people giving out free hugs. Yay! Next Leicester square, which is less cool when it's not night time with loads of people and a fun fair in the middle. We then marched onwards to Covent Garden to meet the disastrous duo Rex and Shing, where we watched a guy climb a ladder with no support and juggle knives rather precariously.

Holy high cpu load batman

Today I have mostly been collecting young Erika from Heathrow, her plane was slightly late, luckily the power of the internet once more provided all the information necessary for one to live. We met up, and took the tube to her hostel in bayswater, which is a nice neighbourhood, on the north side of Hyde Park. Interestingly not only had the hostel failed to reserve her a room properly but it was full of hammered Europeans. Good times. Luckily they had a slightly more expensive room available, and a new Hostel can be found tomorrow. Unfortunately, due to our poor excuse for a late running underground, I had to leave around midnight to get back to Shing's in time for sexy time, spanky time, me not having to walk back across London due to my London bus-related ignorance.

Well hello

It would appear I'm not really sure what I've done this week, apart from let a nurse stab me twice on Tuesday, with vicious intent. And with Hepatitis B and Rabies. Man she was a cold hearted bitch, I fear these might turn into a recurrent theme. No matter, I also walked into Sta Travel and was like "Hey guy, stop hacking up my trip, here watch my smooth flows" and within no time at all I had a draft itinerary. Though I did crash their system with my aura. I need to sort out the details now, and Visas, which could be an issue. As I'm lazy as fudgetingle.

Has anyone written a secret blog/journal/diary of events that occurred to me before this blog really exploded into existence? because I sometimes cry, just a little emo tear, that I didn't start it sooner. Especially as my brain was slightly frazzled in the first year due to my excessive behaviour towards fascist dictatorships. If anyone has any memories at all, before, say, January 2005, please submit them to me on whatever medium you find to be the most erogenous. Except no more submissions of pork.

Tomorrow I'm meeting Erika, in the foolish assumption that I will be of some help in London. *laughs manically* this should be interesting.

French Crimp

mmmm frenchie french french,
sitting on a bench bench,
wonderous eyes in the sky highs,
what you gonna do, what you gonna do,
Eiffel tower, frenchie power!
garlic breath, stinking up Elizabeth,
monarchs in the night time,
very very frightening,
across the channel, pass the manual,
tele broke, tele broke, french suit made bespoke,
frenchie french french,
sitting on a bench bench.

A Public Service Announcement: Just A Reminder

A surprising number of people appear to have forgotten, or not realised what I am doing this year. I'm taking a gap year travelling kids.

Travelling.

I'm not job hunting. I don't have a job. I am bum. End of Story.

I'm going around the world on the 7th February, put it in your diaries. There will be a new travel blog. I'm not starting a job. I'm not moving into a house till August. Which is when I come back.

Thank you.

Cult Shows You Must Have Watched Before You See Tomorrow:

The Mighty Boosh

Spaced

Flight Of The Conchords

Green Wing

IT Crowd

Sunday's Funday

So with cunning and guile, we decided to screw looking for a housing location and just have a fun day in London. We started off having great food in a pub near Victoria, where Rex and I had some lovely Roast Beef and various roast dinner accessories. We then walked along Buckingham Palace road, where we were walking along doing the "manamana" song, when Vic Reeves was walking the opposite direction. His eyes were all like "come on then, I challenge you to say something" so we didn't, as he could've been packing heat. Into a box made from some thermal material that prevents, or at least delays the escape of such heat so it can be sold to the growing market in heat, possibly cold places, Lapland and the such like. (Reality Note: This was actually Vic Reeves, and not some crazy pseudo-psychedelic trip). We marvelled at Buckingham Palace, and the mp5 the police dude was carrying behind the gates, who I reckoned I could rush and slash before he could do anything with that thing. Moving on through St James' Park, where we admired a water fall type sculpture for the Canadians who died in the war for us, and then onward through Hyde park to see the pretty cool Winter Wonderland. Where I was too full from lunch to eat any German Sausage, which made me a little sad.

After frolicking there, we made our way to speakers corner and Marble Arch. Seriously, speaker people are insane, and scary. Especially old guy standing on a crate, on his own, silent. Eerie. We marched down Oxford Street, playing in various shops, until our desire for Nero flooded our brains and with my sharp wit, found a place on Regent Street, where I'd been before. We got some comfy seats and sat there for a decent period of time basking in our lifestyle. Onward towards Leicester square in attempt to find half price theatre tickets. But it was Sunday you fools! and therefore all shows were shut, we shed an emo tear for a bit, but moved on the covent garden.

Where there was a guitarist who was very good, so we sat and enjoyed him for a while, until his set was over and we were stuck with what to do. Shing whipped out her wap, and found a random place called Smollenskys that promised live jazz that night. Once we found it on the strand, it seemed far to swanky for us ragamuffins (read Tom the ragamuffin) but we ventured in anyway, and they were jolly nice. We got a nice sofa seat quite close to the piano, and although no one was on yet, we got a drink and relaxed. At about 7.30 it got a bit busier and the singer(large black woman), piano player and bass dude came out, and began. Turned out they were extremely excellent, her voice was effortlessly amazing, and they all looked like they were having a good time. We were hungry at this point so ordered food, which wasn't that much surprisingly. I had some yummy penne pasta with bacon and chicken. I think.
Once they finished, we got crazy cocktails, mine (Cooler Shaker) being infused with pomegranate and kiwi fruit, much to my initial confusion, then delight. After paying for Rex as we were semi celebrating his birthday, we walked back along the Thames and past various sexy sexy London landmarks, that were totally deserted as it was a Sunday. We then met Pete, Asim, and Jon in The Camel, and had a drink there before they closed. Varying conversations on large penis urinising occurred much to Shing's mental anguish. On returning to Shing's, some strange serious of events, reminiscent of a Mighty Boosh episode, which we happened to be watching, resulting in Jon, Asim and Me to drink vast quantities of export strength gin. Reminding me of varying times where I took 15 year olds on in drinking contests with gin. Not only this, but at some point Shing wanted to down a drink with me, even though hers was water I agreed, unfortunately in her wilyness she had knocked over my gin and tonic and replaced it with straight gin. After some throat burning I came through relatively unscathed and not actually realising what she'd done until she explained. She then concocted various horrendous mixes of Ameretto and hazelnut liquor to make me drink, which I did mainly due to Asim's flattering me as he thought I was some form of "Van Wilder character". Then he realised I did computer science (what he did), and was surprised. More mighty boosh was watched then, retirement, where I perfected the voice of Eeyore, my sleeping buddy, and then insomnia was my friend once more.

Stereotypical London:
The detail in this post is brought to you by Shing's incredible memory. Did you know this is my 900th post? Cos I do. Take that Jesus.

Live Fast, Die Ugly

After my exploit with the sleep fairy, I woke up at some silly time and met young Ruffle for our journey to London. Meeting Rex at the station, we invaded Shing's abode and set off on a house-location hunting extravaganza. First stop was West Ham, which we wandered through towards Stratford. Then up to Leyton and Leytonstone, which wasn't that nice. After returning to Stratford Centre, we realised it was most excellent with a spoons, goose and yates. Not that we're basing our decision just on public houses or anything.... Needless to say we went to the Goose for a beverage and cheap cheap lunch (Lasagne for 2.99!). After this we wandered to the station and grabbed the DLR to Canary Wharf, which is frickin' awesome! I'm sure I took some photos but it appears my phone is lying to me. They have a nice waterfall garden area which is most pretty, working there could be dope. Underneath are some awesome coffee places, restaurants and the such like. So, obviously, we went to caffe Nero, and fucked shit up. And by fucking shit up, I mean getting some coffee, apart from obviously ruffle, as he explodes on contact with caffeine.

After this we trundled back to Shing's, and she made dinner while Rex and I downloaded the internet that was related to houses in areas we like. Most areas we can't afford :(. Various people came over, most who I'd met before, and I like. Shing made AWESOME salmon, and potatoes and veg, very nice, followed by an incredible cheese cake. She's far too excellent at all these sort of things, though I was disappointed the salmon wasn't cooked in the dishwasher. We had a few beers and chilled with people, and watched some crazy half lesbian orgy between shing, izzy and Viv. Most excellent, then my hair got attention, luckily was deflected by viv's hair. Good times.

We then slept, I transferred my insomnia to Shing. But still had it. So we both lost out. Rex on the other hand mocked us both by sleeping. So we got naked and then shanked him in his sleep, but to no avail. One part of that may be a lie!

That's what she said

To make this awake time productive I have my laptop here on my bed, hoping my incessant typing isn't too loud for mum, and trying to catch up totally with my Ameriland blog. I found a 3 disc floor fillers album on this pc, and am currently listening to Black Box - Ride On Time (Massive Mix).... possibly.

Dammit, now I really wanna go clubbing. Kavos anyone? Man that was an incredible holiday. It was legend-... wait for it... and I hope you're not lactose intolerant because the second half of that word is DAIRY! Barney rules. I'm starting to get annoyed with my hair tonight, and I'm starting to doubt this so called "plan" for staying up, as now I'm quite tired, at 6am. I just noticed the awesome scar on my ankle where rex stone cold stunned me on the rocks of feutaventura. Damn his ice cold heart.

If you hadn't guessed

I'm gonna do an all nighter, so I'm actually tired at say 9/10pm tomorrow night and can get a decent night's sleep where I wake up at 8.30am joyful and happy. Ready to look for potential house locations with the crew. And eat dishwasher salmon. Don't ask.

I fear I've neglected to tell you of some interesting occurrences in my life, mainly because none have happened, though Susie, my sat nav, did manage to drain my car of all it's life force. Which is why, yesterday, when I tried to start her, her my car not her my sat nav, she spluttered and failed to awaken in all her 1.6 litre glory. After a jump start, I had to leave her running for 30 min on the drive, and as this is Orpington I had to sit in there, luckily it gave me time to read more of the Subterraneans, which is quite a mind cluster fuck. I then drove for 30 minutes and returned triumphant, with a car that would again turn on.

Recently I've been playing far too much Rainbow 6 with Adam across the marvelous xbox live shazam, and we have killed many a terrorising foe. Luckily, Ad went back to work today, so I concentrated on more pressing tasks, such as trying to add photos to my ameriland blog. Jesus titty fucking stratocaster it takes a long time to do. I have to first sort out the best photos for the particular day, then resize, then find which blog posts to associate with them, wait for them to upload, mess around with the shoddy layout, which probably looks different on each computer and then fix all the spelling mistakes my firefox picks up. *grumbles*

Had a jolly nice conversation with Rex today about my traveling plans, and it's put my mind somewhat at rest about my time constraints and where I want to go. Now I just need Andy fucking C of Sta Travel victoria to get off his ass and communicate with me. But you probably don't care as this post has no pretty pictures or moving images. Pah, you fickle minded baboons, who shall be your Saviour when the day of reckoning comes? aye? aye? that's right. Craig David. Then you'll be sorry, he'll be all over your boing with reckless abandonment.

Well staying sane over the next 18 hours doesn't look likely. Good show.

If like me, you're up at 4:21am

And happen to look at a Gmail account you forgot you had, that has been filled to brim with emails from monster.co.uk, porninyoureye.com, and various other suspicious websites, and you may have a similar version of OCD that means you hate having even one unread email in your inbox, then you'll want some form of l337 way to mark them all as unread. Unfortunately, as they fall off the edge of the page of gmail you can't just select unread emails.

My first stop was to the Gmail api to write some form of batch hacking program. This, I decided, was over-kill, and decided instead to use filters. Therefore, kids, here is my step by step guide to marking all your Gmail email's as read:

1. Next to the Search The Web button at the top there is a link called Create a filter. Click it in the face.
2. In the From text box type "@" without the quotes (or you can use "*").
3. Click the Next Step button, then once the next screen shows, all your emails will be displayed below, or at least the first 20. It should say something like 1-20 of hundreds.
   
4. Tick the check box marked Mark as read.
5. Tick the check box marked Also apply to # conversations below.
6. Click the Create Filter button.
7. Now all of your emails have been marked as read.
   
8. IMPORTANT: Now simple click delete next to the filter you have just created, it will most probably be at the bottom of your filters list, otherwise all your new emails will automatically be marked as read and your face will melt.

It's pretty simple, but what the poop. Take it or leave it or sell it to the highest bidder.

As if you didn't have enough to worry about

what with your bionic leg playing up, the tangos up your foxtrot and your lack of culture. We now find us on another precipice of uncertainty, but this time, with something intangible and out of our mortal control. So sing Hallelujah brothers, for it appears that perhaps time itself could very well be slowing down. And so with which one day, our very fabric of existence shall be frozen with furious nothing, and benignment. But worry not! For the scientists have spoken! Hark, here their call, for perhaps two dimensions of time could explain our apparent loss of time, or perhaps this is a mangled product of media deintellification.

No worry, for the church of Far2Narf is here for all of you! Less you run cowering from these demons, or trailers for horror movies about teenage girls that have vaginas with teeth. What better way to slowly spend the infinite time of no time, than watching the best 19 movies of 2007 that this website suspects you haven't seen, though very well may have, but really should have seen.

My room has an awkward split personality of a past memory I didn't quite exist in. Sarah Michelle Gellar and Alyson Hannigan still look down from my walls, but sporadically placed print-outs and mini-posters of various bands are littered around. Yet these bands have rarely been my favourites, Dave Baksh and Deryck Whilbley of Sum 41 stand awkwardly next to Jimmy Page as coaxes his guitar into a glorious melody. Tupac Shakur and G-Unit remind us to "live by the gun, die by the gun" and "beg for mercy" respectively, while a beaming Alyson Hannigan sits next to the Nirvana family tree underneath. Above and opposite are more bands like Metallica, Iron Maiden, Pantera, Marilyn Manson, and Gun's & Roses who although once quenched my thirst for heavy metal and amazing guitar work, have never meant as much to me as Brand New or Death Cab For Cutie. On another wall there is a 2006 Arena calender, permanently frozen on Fearne "November" Cotton, while underneath the infamous number plate of Doc Brown's Delorean sites proudly amongst a sloo of gig tickets. To its left a large poster of a monk is seen engulfed in flames, the revolutionary image associated with Rage Against The Machine, while in contrast "nu metal" band linkin' park sit quietly, and vertically underneath. My Arsenal mirror is fallen and slumped, partially obscuring Nirvana, while above we're inspirationally told that "No birds soars too high if he soars on his own wings". finally, above my window are a few strangely arranged newspaper cuttings about ferrari's from 1995. Needless to say this tiny room, that doesn't feel like home, is packed full of junk, books I have no time to read, sad guitars I have no room to play, and nik naks kept in case they once meant something to someone.

I hate this room.
It's not me.
I can't sleep

It's too small to rearrange and apart from my books, clothes and guitar, it holds nothing I care about.

It's 3.30 again.

Test

Guess What!

Javascript is awesome!

*oh hai*

I miss this book

My original coffee book. My doodle book. My blue rhino book. It has excellent width and a surprisingly resolute stance on anti-social behaviour. I'm currently awake at 3.45 am trying to tidy my room to make me sleepy. In the process I've found many cool things like my procrastinator, powerball, alarm clock radio, this book, my sandals and the bubonic plague.

Curse every comatosed minute that robs me time without you...

2007

I think the worse thing you can realise at the end of the year, is if when talking to people, or if you are about to summerise it in general, you talk about what other people have done or achieved ("my sister graduated and my father won the naked flute wrestling kent edition") rather than be able to say firmly how you made 2007 your year. This year, I've:

• Got a distinction in an Applied Artificial Intelligence masters.
  
• Been on far too many holidays.
• Proved I can travel alone, across a foreign country.
• Rediscovered my love for books.
• Annihilated large parts of my life with a resurgence in my game addiction.
• Accepting my inner geek and met Jade Raymond with young Dan of icelandic fame.
  

The real question, however, is how I'm gonna make 2008 my year, and feel like I deserve to have existed in it. I really need to improve myself in some intellectual manner. Learn new skills. Etc. Obviously my large travel trip will help, perhaps ignite some foreign linguistic spark, though I never really enjoyed French or German. I have to stop being complacent in my past achievements to justify the laziness of the present, but also feel less harassed by constant badgering about what I'm going to do.

Looking at my 2007 resolutions I can categorically confirm I failed just about all of them, though I do think I'm enjoying life, when I'm not worrying I'm wasting it. But I'm still fatigued, my heart hates, I did ALL my work at the last minute (tho it worked?), I gave up on Project365, I procrastinated lots, I'm useless at the guitar, my room is a bomb site, and I ate far too much junk.

This year's resolutions? I'm not sure I'll make any specific ones, as it will just lead to a post similar to this next year where I bemoan my lack of motivation, laziness and general stupid hair. Though it might spur me on to do more stuff, so I'll just freestyle some out and see what happens:

• Read more (classic) books.
• Reduce my gaming.
• Seek productivity in my every day life.
• Keep healthy.
• Increase my knowledge, whether it be computer based, language based or whatever.
• Move out and get a damn job.
  

Girls

News Years Tom-Foolery

Apparently the eclectically wisened tortoise of time, drove the rampant motorised vehicle of destiny through the rusting gates of 2007, to reach the effervescent highway of debauchery, and exited at the newly constructed through road of 2008. To celebrate such an occasion we ate vast quantities of dead birds and consumed larger quantities of a liquid partially consisting of a substance that is poisonous to humans. Good show.

After a quick gaming session of Rainbow 6 with young Adam, via the wonders of xbox live, I met the fools round raffle's house to then go on to the Harvester in petts wood, where we luckily got 2 four tables right next to each other. So we had a guys and a girls table, and mocked their foolishness on many occasion. Food was good, beer was better, and was good fun.

We returned to Rachel's abode where drinking was had via the use of the game articulate, which was good fun, if my team was some what dense:

Tom: "It's the fear of small enclosed spaces"
Rex and Shing: "agoraphobia!",
Tom & Everyone else: *head desk*

Though we still came second, which was impressive as Rachel as near super-human powers for the game, even when she had Trev on her team. More drinking then ensued, and midnight came around very quickly, we watched big ben do it's stuff, checked out the fireworks outside, laughed at ruffle in his excellent mexican costume and then people began to get tired. A few more drinks and tidying up and we got to bed by about 2.30, which was impressive, though my eyes were hurting quite a bit. Good night, very enjoyable.

The Far2Narf Awards

Hey, I'm sad, wotcha gonna do about it? The Nominations:

Top sites with original content:
Weebls-Stuff
Xkcd
Rocketboom
Youtube

Top Media Sites:
MediaMaster
Pandora
Live Plasma
Youtube

Top tube-collecting sites:
Boing Boing
Fazed.net
Digg
Rocketboom

Top Humour Site:
ICanHasCheezBurger
Idiot Toys
Xkcd
Weebls-Stuff

Top Online Applications
Gmail
Meebo
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Best Blog:
Ameriland
Far2Narf
Developer's Year
Mike's Blog
Rachel's Blog
Rex's Travel Blog

Danu Birthday

I really wish I had some photos from this extravaganza but I always forget to bring out anything with a complementary metal–oxide–semiconductor or charge-coupled device. Needless to say it was an excellent night, which began at 12 where we hit up some pool action at an empty Victoria I.Q. (fake rileys). Where we (twits, rex and I) met up with shing, hess and dan. After a few pints we transmufontenated to Beckenham to watch I Am Legend and meet everyone else, where we nearly drowned in people. Luckily Colin was on the ball and had booked us tickets.

Overall, the film was a bit disappointing, I think it was probably good, but the ending was a bit of an anti-climax, and I felt like far more should have happened. Seeing places in New York I recognised, totally deserted was awesome though, especially washington square where I met Erika once or twice, very odd. We then hit up the Slug and Lettuce, where a few fools had strawberry beer (frulis) and I mocked them when they didn't like it. I also ended up drinking most of Shing's crazy coffee flavoured cocktail, in a few poncy glass. After wards, Tracey saved us all by bringing a map with curry restaurants on, as our one of choice looked a bit suspicious and possibly close. Much food later, and meeting ruffle in there, we traversed to our favourite pub, The Goose. Where many drinks were had, Dan was forced drink terrible concoctions that should never be mixed again, and we all jovially passed the time.

After it was time at the bar, we all staggered out, and dan found an excellent chinese calender in a bin, which I learned later her resorted to licking on the train home. I didn't see this however, as Ad, Russ and I thought it would be fantastic to go to O'neils rather than go home, even though everytime we say we won't. The main issue before entering was that Ad and I didn't realise quite how drunk sir Ruffle of drink-a-lot was. But after 2 shots each at the O'neils bar, and russ being mostly horizontal for the rest of the time, we realised that his liver might go pop. Excellent fun though, we sung at the tops of our voices to some cheese tunes, like living on a prayer, and then a bar woman was passing us and I saw her look at ruffle. Her look was such that I said to guys "dude's we gotta leave" and sure enough we were being escorted/thrown out of the pub, though we were extremely good natured and understanding about it. Especially with russ trying to get the bouncer to say he'd "thrown him out so he looked cool", the guy just looked bemused. Taxi home was 25 coins of the pound, and everyone was slightly worried ruffle would "spill his load" or something, over the car, but to his credit he kept it in.

Good night, excellently humourous ending,

Racoon Pony
Your fur is so soft
Racoon Pony
And hooters made of cloth
Racoon Pony
You teeth are oh so clean
Racoon Pony
And taste like minted spleen
Racoon Pony
You send shivers down my spine
Racoon Pony
You live in 2 dimensional time
Racoon Pony
You sex is undecided
Racoon Pony
Which leaves your fans divided
Racoon Pony
You smell of discontent
Racoon Pony
And you owe me last month's rent
Racoon Pony
You were sent from outer space
Racoon Pony
you're an expert in reconstructive plastic surgery, specifically to the face.

to the tune of "Racoon Pony"

Scared

To Bromley

Twits, I and Trev James went to Bromley today with one eye on the sales and the other eye in a pint of beer. So naturally as we got off the bus we wandered into the slug and lettuce for a pint and lunch. My choriza and chicken penne pasta was extremely good, but Ad's Thai Green Curry smelled what I expect a imaginary utopia to smell like. Trev then shouted varying names at a guy he claimed to know but then was completely blanked and we cracked up. I mean James. After bouncing between varying shops, where I stopped myself buying games, and everyone else sucked at buying clothes we gave up with the awfulness of shops such as Next, and strode into spoons. For a beer. Then we took the bus back which had a high quantity of people who metaphorically resembled penises. Upon arrival in the town which has nothing in, we fell back into the Harvey, consumed a pint and then gat up the Noodle House for some food. Yum. We then forced ourselves home so we stopped drinking and eating.

At home I completed the Simpsons Game which concludes with an awesome dance dance revolution battle with God, where you fight against the Praystation, Exodus Box and the Hii. God is portrayed as a proper lazy gamer, tis very funny, and all to the tune of the Scorpians - Rocking Like A Hurricane. I then went on to play far too much Assassin's Creed into the wee hours of the night, as I got addicted to achievements. Stupid world. Stupid microsoft. Stupid lack of sleep.

Box In my Day

After a frightful amount of gaming in the past week it was decided we should find an alternative activity to pass the days, so it was suggested we hit up the Queens Head dans la Green St Green. Unfortunately, we got confused, and I wandered into Gamestation where I got two copies of mass effect and colin raped the pre-owned section with his wallet. We then accidentally wandered in to the Harvey, at about 3pm. We then drank.

When it was food time we attempted to find some place to eat in Orpington, the town which only consists of restaurants and charity shops, yet somehow all of them were shut. So we went back to the pub. And ate. And drank. Then it was the end of time and we went home. Me, and the twits fail at many things. Hopefully tomorrow our skills of planning will come into play, and we'll beat the world at it's own game.

I was happily merry though, so that was good enough.

Happy Christmas you crazy bastards

Hope everyone had fun and was not involved in any form of genocide, thievery or politically motivated chocolate scandals. I was thinking about creating a profound christmas message similar to how the Queen lays it down each year, but I decided it wouldn't matter what I said anyway, plus it would increase my tally of "advice I don't follow myself". However, I'll jam these words into your over-stuffed throbbing cortexes, even though many people may declare me sir Wrong of Wrong-a-lot with a degree in Wronging from the University of Incorrectus.

These days, the Christmas holidays, and even Christmas day itself is not a solely religious holiday anymore, just as it began many moons ago as the crazy winter solstice or some other festival, many people just celebrate the idea of celebrating. Celebrate in the commercialism, and the stories of santa, and reindeer, and turkey, and television, and queen speeches, and good will and peace. And the point is. Thats. Not. Wrong. Neither is celebrating a purely christian Christmas. Or celebrating a version of Christmas if you're of another faith or have no faith or even follow the Flying Spaghetti Monster. The "holiday season" as some politically correct folk like to call it, though as we're English we'll call it Christmas, has far exceeded religious encompassment, which although many people cry foul about I don't think it's bad. This isn't some rant about religion being evil or anything, it's just Christmas has become a time for generic enjoyment and everyone needs a bit of that.

Well that sounded all far too profound and rambling. Hush now.

Just watched Love Actually again, and it was like that time I learnt Portuguese and had to give up my left face for the chance to tell my soul mate, who had aids, and had been hit by a car that was keeping her insides in, that I love her, except it turned out she was cheating on me with the paramedic, and then our kid got the plague and fell for a street urchin who turned out to be the prime minister's pet dog's mother's keeper's nephew in law.

I seriously love, Love Actually.

Hey you crazy half squirrel half internet created monstrosities

Why I love the internets:

Crimbo Gathering

Another excellent gathering at the house of Rex de Whistable. I made a miraculous recovery from the edge of certain death, battled my man flu down, banished the dolphin death, and as pete said "at least its not aids". I picked up herbs from mr and mrs Smith and proceed to collect Cory and followed Susie the wrong stupid damn way to the m25. Luckily she behaved from there on and was moderately plain sailing to the land of air born sea salt. After I pretended to be of some use while actually just wandering between rooms, we proceeded to wait for various amounts of people to turn up, until the entire posse, as you see us above, arrived triumphantly. Slightly depleted from last year due to a poor show from James and Beth, and Ruffle being slave driven by Game.

As the light was drawing in we ambled down to a pub at the bottom of the hill, which was rather dandy, and we jovially quaffed a few pints and mocked my apparent gay antics at various parties previous. The irony was palpable as Ad mounted me once more (see above). After a bit Rex, Ad and Cory went back to prepare dinner, which was jolly nice of them, and we continued with the alcohol, though we were quite laid back and only had about 3 pints each. On returning we were met with excellent cuisine in the form of Chicken Tagine, I think. Was very nice and we all munched hungrily before Secret Santa time.

With expert skillery I managed not only to please my victim, but also make it appear like it wasn't me who gave it, and hence stayed sensually anonymous. I received an awesome extreme travel survival book with various step by step guides to jump from roof to roof, controlling a run away camel and jumping from moving trains etc as well as alcohol in the form of Guiness. People know me too well.

The rest of the night was spent with very moderate drinking, eating an awesome choccy cheesecake made by Shing and excessive playing of Guitar Hero 3 which proved to be most fun. Though quite harrowing on the soul at points, and not a very good drinking game, especially as our Carlsberg tasted like tainted poo-water. No matter, at about 2/3 we all went to sleep, and I drifted off smugly in my 10 tog double duvet. Then awoke to the snoring of Colin, Shing and Adam, surprise surprise. Wasn't too bad though, and I soon punched them to death.

In the morning, after some COD4, we got a frickin' nice and big breakfast in a restaurant under a bridge. Black pudding is excellent. We then trundled back, drove home and I'm sure I did something fascinating for the rest of the evening. Oh yeah, I went through Guitar Hero 3 on medium, using a normal 360 controller.... which mashed up my hands. More importantly it mashed up my vision, causing everything to appear like it was liquid and moving. Quite scary.

So ill....

Fever, body temperature dropping, death likely.

Enough.

Don't waste a taste my basket case

Well thank you Jade Raymond. You have caused me to waste an entire day by playing Assassin's Creed until the wee hours, i.e. 4am. This then broke my face and my alarm waking up skillery, so I got out of bed at 2pm. I have then spent the day doing nothing of any point, which is quite unfortunate.

Even when I went to Sta Travel yesterday nothing much was sorted as their system was broke, but Andy C is going email me a draft itinerary, which is jolly nice. I should probably organise my jabs as well, but no doubt I shall dilly dally for a while and not doing that. Why do I always resort to Magic FM when trying to find decent music on the radio?

Hey look Mike, Mac OS X had 5 times as many vulnerabilities as XP + Vista combined.

Following the traditional of throwing links at you until you die, check out Travelodges giving away free rooms to couples called Mary & Joseph. Also: an excellence comedical rap video, which quite a soul swinging, jazz fingering sound. Talking of fingering I shall leave you, with this amazing video of a guy finger dancing, as such, to a daft punk track:



And an alternative more titillating version.

What!

I woke up at 7am. This may come as a shock, but I am in fact being productive, listening to Christmas t00nes and wrapping presents. Woo. Except this isn't productive. How do you wrap a wine bottle?!

Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare is seriously good, though I'm warned it's short. After yesterday's coffee session I had some serious trouble staying alive and not looking like a heroine addict going through cold turkey with late stage Parkinson's. So much so, that I think I scared the girl in Smith's when I tried to hand my credit card over and my hand was shaking all over the place. Good times, I solved it with a tuna baguette and a bread pudding. Yum.

Smart arse reasons why I chose the best console: Part 5341

Yes children, from my lovely perch of superiority I once more have discovered even more proof that the xbox 360 is better than the PS3 for all games so far. Look, if you will, at the two videos below, comparing half-life 2 and Portal on both consoles. Marvel at how the 360 has shorted load times, better frame rates, and the graphics are at least the same, if not better than the PS3:





All hail me, my smugness and everything else that doesn't involve homo-erotic behavior when drunk.

via joystiq

Reactions to my antics on Saturday:

Tommeh: I blame you for me drinking a crate and a half of beer at a party filled with predominately gay men...
Pete: Don't blame me for you being violated by a burly homo named Manuel, you bring these things upon yourself

Shing: he did like u
Tommeh: it reminds me of the time when the gods showered me with terrible rage and vengence

Tommeh: your photos hurt my soul
Shing: now would tht be poor quality of pics or compromising positions?
Tommeh: surprisingly my concern about the quality of afformentioned pix is somewhat minor, compared to all other concerns I have
Tommeh: mainly the fact that such photos exist and of course compromising positions
Tommeh: death to all

Tommeh: never let me get drunk in a party where the majority of people are gay dudes
Sapphic: o.O
Sapphic: you should probably avoid getting drunk in France

Sapphic: aww, but you're so amusing when inebriated
Tommeh: amusing/half crazed/horrendous in hindsight/homo-erotic

Adam: i fucking hate you
Adam: go to a party with no manliness such as me there
Adam: and you get some cracker fool riding you like its the grand national

I should warn you all now

I'm doing christmas cards this year, take that you crazy people of card giving uncertainty. I think if I lay out a blanket of card fire, I have less chance of not giving a card to someone who gives me one.

Guess where I am? That's right, volunteering down the salvation army... if by Salvation Army you mean costa coffee, and if by volunteering you mean drinking vast quantities of caffeine while trying to justify my trip to the high street not just to buy Call of Duty 4 cheap. And Graw for 7.99. Mythras loves me.

So, my to do list is now so long I can't remember what was at the top when I'm reading the bottom, I have managed to book a Sta Travel appointment for tomorrow though. Damn, I should probably go to the dentist. *adds that* There's now 29 items!!! Though one of them is "watch Audrey Hepburn films." Although I love this journal for writing in, it's not designed optimally for stickmen doodling due to it's narrowness, and height above the table. And I forgot my loyal Rhino doodle book (circa 4th year Exeter). God I miss Exeter. I have a list in here of things I miss that I may emofect you all with at a later date when I've thought of more things to add to it so it seems I don't actually wander around in a catatonic mental state where I rarely remember to miss stuff unless I stop to think. I'd like to think it was "living in the present" but it's probably just severe cognitive mental damage.

Talking of times when coffee made me slightly woozy and jittery. That would be now then...

Oh, hello

Sorry I just popped out for a bit - to America - but I'm back now kids. I haven't been outside since Wednesday! This is quite an achievement, helped in part by Altair, large timezone confusion and a large list of tv shows to watch. I must venture outside now, for there is alcohol and presents to be found in many a hovel and grotto. More later my loyal yet slightly pedantic readers, I am free from the shackles of a swearless politically correct blog, mwahaha, fuck you white boy! Oh wait....

It might appear that I've built a fort out of my bed, a towel and some clothes but that would be taking liabilities with your imagination... mmm fort. Man, I love forts, does anyone remember the epic tent/fort we made in my room in the first year? That was most excellent.

New dude above me told me off for being dangerous (this surprisingly isn't related to the fort), but I'm not gonna tell you what I did, so that an air of mystery remains about this blog.

Note To Tom:

Write a program for copying between blogs using this cunning api guide. In this manner you shall win the world, and be able to import Ameriland to here, crowning you king of the Blogasphere, and dethroning Cory Doctrow from his balloon fortress in the sky.

A Lesson To Be Learned

Okay kids, I know I'm not meant to be blogging on here really, but I have a techie rant. Who here uses Internet Exploiter Explorer? If you put your hands up, firstly why? I can't see you, and secondly, you good sir or madam, are a fool. Let's take this case example:

The hostel I am currently in uses Internet Explorer, a mixture of the latest one and an earlier version (I can't remember the numbers). Anyway, on the latest version, it managed to ENTIRELY destroy the computer from the inside out, and the guy had to do some crazy remote restarting of the computer, and that didn't even work. Then I moved to this machine, where it has an older non-tabbed IE, well just handling one webpage was apparently too much for it, so it promptly crashed after about 6 minutes. Now, although Firefox may take up your's, your mum's and your entire neighbourhood's RAM sometimes, at least it doesn't crash as much. At least for me. Then again I seem to be able to make everything crash. Case example:

On the Virgin Atlantic plane over to the states, they have an awesome computer thing in the back of each seat where u can choose films, tv shows to watch, radio stations to listen to and games to play, as well as see where in the world the plan is on a map. Well obviously, as I was using it, in a humourous yet predictable event I crashed it in the most amazing manner, the error message on the black linux screen than came up was:

Kernal panic: Attempt to kill init.

The woman was quite good natured about my destructive nature towards computers, yet my suggestion of "recompiling the kernal" didn't help matters... So the point to this post can be divided into two main thrusting elements:

1) Internet Explorer is the poorest coded, clunky heap of junk for browsing the internet
2) I rulz teh 'puterz!