I can safely say this trip is the best thing I've decided to do ever. I think in just the 1.5 weeks I've been away, so far I've grown more confident in myself and had a great time just meeting people. though as always with me, I always falter if I want anything more than el friendshipio. Curse my stupid hair and leaving everything important too late, no matter how many chances I might get. Anyway, I have no time for such emo tom-foolery
I'm not Australien!
Why do I always get embarrassed and ashamed when people ask what degrees I did and what grades I got? I fear people then see past my cool, suave exterior and think I'm a geek. It's as if I was recompiling my kernal or something... Also, some people of the British persuasion think I'm well spoken! Obviously I don't speak like a chav and I sometimes use crazy words, but my enunciation is shizer!.
While I am on a little rant, I'd like to point out that people really should consider other mp3 players rather than just default choosing ipods! I can understand shuffles and nanos because they are most excellent, but everyone turns their nose up at my zen, even though every feature (apart from its street cred) is better than an ipod! Death to all.
My forearms rock your world.
Strange phondoola
Dammit, all white people look the same, I'm having trouble remembering who I know and who I don't. I cam across the idea of using far2narf as a "behind the scenes" look at my trip. Luckily, I remembered that this humble blog has little to no purpose, and discard the idea. You may remember a cool guy who looked like Will Smith, well he was actually quite a ladies man + perv. Talking about getting the ladies to play pool and bend over etc. Damn that prince is fresh. Apparently, the women drink the light Fiji Gold beer, as otherwise they get "too fat". I promptly decided not to bring up that I drank the light beer... same alcohol though.
"Fuck you man" gesticulated Archie, "Fuck the whole freakin' system".
Lucy gazed on, an air of bemused wonderment descended, as the strange scene unfolded before them. Neither of them really understanding the political ramifications of such an action, they both began to sidle carefully along the charred remnants of the space submarine. After what seemed like an eternity of incandescent shuffling, they reached the edge of the raptor enclosure and found a vacant tumble dryer. In unspoken unison, they threw both sleeveless sextants in the shute and ran to the nearest jeti.
A loud glare echoed throughout the chamber as the cool breeze ruffled through Lucy's already disheveled hair.
"I'm scared" recycled Archie, emitting an intense table like appearance, arousing Lucy at the most inconvenient moment. The unicycle felt unsteady,
"I can't keep this up much longer" she whimpered.
"Then stop, I'm not sure why you're on that contraption anyway, you're complicating matters" disenfranchised Archie, ignoring his own simultaneous rodent fetish.
"Enough" whispered the lead Raptor, as the world tore at the seams, ripping the beauty of the night with it....
Halp! A spy from the planet cyclops has invaded our city!
No worries though, via an intrepid series of counter-intelligence he was apprehended. In related news, I finally got a hair cut. Unfortunately, when I asked for a "surfer" hair cut, I fear he thought I said a "special" hair cut. Ah well, I got blantantly brand blinded in Boots today as I bought some crazy gel type hair controlling device that had the word surf on it. I also bought half of the shop, which was impressive, as well as some cool new Vans shoes. Not quite the trekking shoes I was probably meant to be *Shrugs*
Once more, England has reverse knee dropped me as normal, just when I'm about to leave to other shores, it pulls out an amazingly beautiful day, and I'm like darn cakes. On top of that I was driving back from blue water as the sun set around me in a cloudless sky with Lostprophets on. Tug the heartstrings why don't you?
So I still haven't began packing, and I have also to watch the footie match tonight, and possibly Torchwood if I can somehow record it/download it in time. Oh how time mocks me with it's linearity or a similar word that means something I meant to mean but didn't. I started learning mandarin a bit last night, was quite interesting, using Pimsleur which is all audio based and now on my magic mp3 player. Oh shit. That reminds me, need to sort out all manner of electrical goods, including upgrading firmware/OS on my nokia. *breaths deeply*
Nah it's all good. Dinner time (T minus 22 hours 45min).
And so the excitement insomnia begins
Which is to be expected really, unfortunately, I really need my beauty sleep as I have a list of at least 30 things I need to acquire from bluewater tomorrow, but not before I finally get my long flowing locks cut. At the moment I'm closely following the Democratic primaries in the US as it seems quite exciting, for politics. For some reason I want Obama to beat Clinton, but this is founded on no solid facts or any deep reasoning. The race is quite lively, but I think Clinton will get through super Tuesday still in the lead, though hopefully it will be tight.
In even more enthralling escapades in my life, I'm bluetoothing some humourous videos from the party at the weekend on to my lappy, which I can than upload to facebook, or youtube, or something equally poor quality. I was going to post this on wandering tectonics but it's not related to my travel enough. And I have more freedom here to say things like "baby sex Olympics" and other equally quasi-shocking randomocities.
The wind is rather windy tonight as well, and all manner of doors are banging, and mice are howling, which makes it very hard to sleep at all. Stupid excitement. Or maybe it's more worry at things I have to do before I go. Pah. Down with you all.
Wandering Tectonics
As I stare wistfully through the internet, my face illuminated by the constant glow of two liquid crystal displays, I twitch slightly as I repress the realisation that my preparation for my soon to commence epic journey, is minimalistic at best. In keeping with tradition, I've failed to keep track of bookings, purchased items, pieces of paper, and tasks yet to be accomplished. With classic off-putting, I've left everything to the last day, including having my golden locks lopped off savagely by a stranger.
No fear, as always, blogging maintains it's position at the top of my priorities, and so with no further ado I unveil my new travel blog:
Wandering Tectonics
(http://wanderingtectonics.blogspot.com)
Similar to last time, the number of entries on this blog will be minimal, with most of my emotastic thoughts and strangely erogenous experiences being crowbared into this new home for the next 6 months. Don't forget to keep checking here as well though, you never know when my shenanigans will erupt into an X-rated descriptive nightmare.
Estimated Time of Commencement: 7th February - 17:00.
(http://wanderingtectonics.blogspot.com)
Similar to last time, the number of entries on this blog will be minimal, with most of my emotastic thoughts and strangely erogenous experiences being crowbared into this new home for the next 6 months. Don't forget to keep checking here as well though, you never know when my shenanigans will erupt into an X-rated descriptive nightmare.
Estimated Time of Commencement: 7th February - 17:00.
Stars and Apostle for Hustle
very good gig, after warming up with some Virtual Fighter action with the one who originates from Iceland, we slammed into the gig. Apostle for Hustle were cool, lead dude was funny and a bit crazy, not sure I'd get their album though. Stars were very good, the main singer guy appeared hammered/stoned, but it appeared just that he was feeling the music so much he was tripping a bit. Awesome. Flowers were even thrown from the decorations that littered the stage, good fun.
Rather than playing football
We decided to save our souls via a spoons farmhouse breakfast. Unlike normal people, I failed to sleep just about the whole night, so I was a walking, semi-talking Zombie. After returning to Shing's after an emotion fuelled parting with Dan and Tracey.
After Tom nearly dying from sleep deprivation we headed off out to Sloane Square for a coffee or a cake, which failed repeatedly and even amounted to us storming out of a bar/restaurant/cafe for ignoring us. We finally ended up in Pizza Express for a yummy amount of pizza and chocolate glory in our mouths. After which, Rex and I retired to our special train home.
Very good weekend, just massive tiredness all over the shop. This also made me chuckle:
Spot the humourousness or lose.
Rubiks Cube Party
or the 12356th episode in our "homo-erotic party" saga. Twas very very good funs. Rex, Ad and I vanquished the greater london transport network to arrive successfully in the London at an early time, where we finished getting various presents for Shing. Mainly the voucher for her crazy crazy bead shop, which is in an awesome little segment of London called 7 dials. 
Obviously Ad hated the area, where as me and Rex found it cool and quaint. We pottered around in Covent Garden as well before wandering back to Victoria via the power of our legs, and destruction of souls. A handy starbucks on the way helped, before entering the abode of Shing.
Soon mine and rexxor's hair was being turned blue by some concoction of chemicals, and Dan and Tracey arrived in a flurry. We pootled down to the play pool for a bit before heading to the shakespeare for a particularly awful set of meals, including my fish and chips that had literally been drowned in fat/grease. Yum.
After that we said bye bye
to Tracey, and headed back to prepare ourselves for the party of brightly coloured fashion accessories. It was similar to morphing into power rangers, but without the hot pink one. In a surprise act of intelligence, Dan, Rex and I had only brought spirits, instead of the usual hangover instigating beer. Though we did get 2 bottles of vodka and 1 of Whiskey, though by the end of the night only managed the first litre bottle of vodka. Though to be fair we drank vast quantities of punch, cunningly distributed in one of Shing's presents, a cocktail fountain. I not sure how to describe the whole evening, people ended up in various states of undress,
mainly Rex and Dan, who foolishly traded underwear covering devices for thin air it would appear. Luckily I used swift of hand, mild deception, and middle man tactics to become entirely yellow, which made me look like a 90s Raver. Good times. Near the end, Rex, Dan, sometimes Ad and I, started singing the Grand Old Duke of York, utilising a well known Rugby drinking game, good fun, though astoundingly loud.
As the night drew to the close, new Dan played far too much 80s, and our souls were devoured, especially as 8 or so people smooshed into Shing's room, and new Dan kept talking.
And talking.
And talking. Luckily interspersed with my razor sharp dry and sticky wit... *ahem*...
Derren Brown "The System" spoilers
It's no secret that I have a man crush on Derren Brown, for he is my demi-god. As normal, Derren Brown is one step ahead of all us mere mortals. He just did a special where he predicts horse races perfectly using "The System"
He gets this random woman to place bets, first anonymously via emailed/texted tips, and she films her self, and obviously she wins every single time, 5 times in a row. The last time she actually went to the race course and he reveals himself to her. He's all like "Hey gal, next time I want you to bet LOADS, come back next week with monies" and she's all like "k".
You have to understand she's a single parent with no money,and has to work 2 jobs just to make ends meet. So obviously she takes out a 3 grand loan and borrows a grand from her dad *headdesk*, to bet on the last race. Though it's all a bit more sneaky than you first think, turns out, for the first 5 races, Derren got nearly 8000 people, and split them up evenly, so eventually one person is bound to have one all 5 in a row, then the next one he's just going to guess.
He places the bet for her, comes back, and explains it all to her, and it goes down a bit like this but not really at all:
she's like OH SHIT FOOL
and they watch the race
and the horse they bet on loses
and she's like TIT FUCK
and then derren is like SHIT MAN, we fucked that up.... oh wait I forgot how awesome I am, check your ticket
and it's all like KABLAM!!! you won 13 grand
as obviously it turns out he managed to predict the race. Or some other more rational trick.
In other news I'm reading his Tricks of the Mind book at the moment, it's extremely excellent. Go buy it.
*swears violently*
One of my long term "rivals" or "enemies" appears to like the Eels, Death Cab For Cutie and The Postal Service. Fucker. He/She is not allowed to like such awesome bands. *curb stomp*
In other news my phone was annoying me, cos I couldn't turn off the camera sounds for voyeuristic tendencies. So I hacked into the phones firmware and manually deleted them *Grins* Here are two extremely funny clips that you should really check out, especially if you have Geek blood:
Chicago
Chicago through the eyes of a Tom with the tranquil emotastic tunes of The Weepies:
ameriland
Farewells and Care bears
I lied about the care bears. Sorry. I got told to do it.
Today was most excellent, during the day I think I did all manner of blogging and such intriguing mining prospects. In the evening I waddled to Guildford to meet a whole gang of fools. Meeting Alex at the station we wandered around aimlessly until after a slight prodding via Alex's telecommunications device we found our planned meeting point of a Lloyds bar and got some drinks in. Soon to arrive was James, Giles, and Henry, followed soon by all the girls in a most excitable manner (Claire, Katie, KT, Louise and Paiyel). We were jovial and drank merrily for a few hours, before KT, Katie and Paiyel had to go to bed as they are flying out at 6am to Rio de Janerio! Most excellent, goodbyes were said and we all trooped home.
Hopefully Claire will send me the cool photos she took and I can flirt with your vision.
Contradictory to popular belief, Jack Kerouac is not emo
I just got hypnotised by the tube. The gentle rocking as my eyes locked focus on another reality, misty in the glass. I sometimes think I should throw off the shackles of computing and become a full blown writer in some form, as I'm sure you're bored of being told. As someone once wrote, "for what is life but a constant struggle to minimalise regrets." Perhaps things are only regrets if something bad happens first. Also, what doubles the confusion is that a choice we take to reduce our total regrets, for instance
"I have to bungee jump or I will regret it later"
never takes into account what you might have done if you chose not to be so adventurous. I suspect I'm starting to realise why people say "have no regrets", which although a contradictory impossibility for the human condition, is a nice, dreamy ideal. Perhaps mankind's biggest strength is our combined weaknesses. As you may have guessed, I just finished the Subterraneans by Jack Kerouac, finally. And although as a book in its entirety, it is far too viscous to wade through elegantly, it has it's moments. I perhaps like the last two lines best:
"And I go home having lost her love.
And write this book."
I also randomly wrote another quote down which would suggest I should share it with you:
"still making no impression on my eager impressionable ready-to-create construct destroy and die brain"
well I liked it anyway. There's a button next to me labelled "smoke curtain release", and it's daring me to push it in quiet whispers....
eels links up inside ya,
finding an entrance where they can
boring though your mind, through your tummy, through your anus..
Which reminded me of this interesting photoset on Flickr, of objects stuck in the asphalt of Brooklyn. Speaking of things being where they shouldn't be, check out this news article about a family that managed to build an illegal castle, hidden from view by a haystack..... For once the headline matched the article, however, more interesting headlines can be generated via the London Evening Standard Headline Generator, constructed from photos of the real headline boards outside newsagents. Once example: "Killer Breast will haunt Brown". Talking of killing, and epic battles, the mightiest fight ever to be recorded by the humble human was that between a Puppy and a surprisingly adept autonomous robot. If only Gordon Freeman, or perhaps his hilarious retarded brother could have come to the rescue:
The above video, is shockingly hilarious, and I nearly cacked my pants watching it. Anyway, moving swiftly on, if u like seeing slow motion skateboarders blown up, check this vid out as well. I suspect that's a bit of a link overload for now. More later you crazy crazy cats.
Blogging is my life
Or so it would appear, as you should check out these posts I just made from the past... not that I was in the past, because time travel and all that jazz isn't available to a blogger on my budget. Donate kids donate.
- Exotic Reunions
- Saturday's Child Is a Master In Applied AI
- Argh Hangover Not Good
- Exeter City of Viewty
Rexy: your blog should be - tomexploresthepacificrim
Tommeh: or TomsRimmingExperience?
Rexy: tomrimmingthepacific?
I shall now leave you with a some Weepies lyrics, as I just obtained their latest album "Say I Am You" which is amazing:
No amount of coffee, no amount of crying
No amount of whiskey, no amount of wine
No, no, no, no, no, nothing else will do
I've gotta have you, I've gotta have you - The Weepies - Gotta Have You
When drinking, don't drive. Don't even putt.
Haw Haw Haw. Wasn't that a funny. That I stole. Blatantly. From the Internet. Aren't I great. Take that generic deity of unspecified religion.
As you may have guessed from either that witty pun or the below SloMo video of us golfing - we went golfing. Pre-ball-to-club-sport, we got a harty breakfast in the Harvey, where they burnt my toast to a cinder, so I didn't eat it out of silent protest. Plus I wanted bread but Rex in all his ultimate evil didn't ask for it. We then met young Ruffle puff up at the Driving rage, where we "got our eye in" or in our terms, hit golf balls randomly all over the shop, at our own eyes, and at various pipes. Needless to say we had to get on with the 9 hole course we were doing, as from our previous experiences we needed all the time we could steal from the sun, before its nightly slumber. We spiced the day up by playing for money, 50p a hole don't you know. We're big spenders.
Personally, after an initial 2 holes of total disaster, my skill luck improved drastically, and I even got a Birdie on one hole. Ruff had far more skill than any of us, Danu had the crazy lunatic eyes, Rex had the persistence of a wallaby, and I had vast amounts of insane swirly luck. As from the pointlessly enclosed score card, we can see I won excellently, with 56, only 23 above par..... I also won the most money, £10, so that was £5.50 profit, excellent show. Although dan came third, the way our crazy money scoring system worked, he got the least money, and so lost £3.50 overall. Needless to say, after completion, and my celebratory jig, we went to the Harvey once more to have a nice huge roast dinner, before bidding farewell to each other in an emotional parting of ways.
There now exists, on these wandering, aimless tubes, a photo of me with Altaïr thanks to Sir Dan of Icelandic fame. Unfortunately, on this page is also my lack lustre attempt at taking a photo of the aforementioned Scandinavian one and Jade Raymond. My skills of focusing are similar to my skills of reversing time, and pro-actively achieving. Luckily, somehow Dan manages still to look cooler than I do in my photo, and her smile is far superior to the now hindsight ridden lackluste effort in my photo. Curse you Dan for inspiring her incredible smile. *shakes fist in jealous fury*