Recently having found myself at the business end of a burglary - I have begun to ask myself what is all this stuff really all about? This Thursday - on returning home from a long day in the office I found myself considerably lighter in the electronics department. Currently I am down a number of PlayStation titles, a PS3, a Nikon D80 camera, a top line laptop, a tag heuer watch, and a gold ring my mum gave my dad for his 21st.
Pisser - but life goes on - I am trying to write something funny about all of this - but last night I watched the sun set and thought how nice it would be to take a photo of it with my lovely ..... PISSER!!!!
I suspect the Belgians - the smell of waffle was in the air and the surfaces were sticky as if touched by a syrup ed hand!
Monday, March 02, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Another day another dollar
Souless money today replaced a day of grey possibilities. The snow and cold of last week have now cleared leaving only a corporate chill that takes everything with it.
The mindless monotony of the last two days leaves me with no option but to scream and head for the door - 29 minutes to freedom - 29 minutes to the road - 29 minutes....... ETERNITY!
The mindless monotony of the last two days leaves me with no option but to scream and head for the door - 29 minutes to freedom - 29 minutes to the road - 29 minutes....... ETERNITY!
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Another late submission
So good followers, thanks to my trusty new plugin I know you to be thin on the ground, I find myself once agian in front of a machine adding to this most strange collection of lines. This time we find ourselves in the year 2009. This horrible cycle continues this revolution marking the beginning of my thirties! Yes the mean, vicious wheel is still spinning. Although things are certainly changing. But is that change wanted?
This last, newly completed revolution brought with it many changes. Amoungst them a strange thinning of the bonce fluff. Yes I am developing a thining circle of hair at the back - another sign that I should perhaps put more effort into religious works. After all monks do have rather fetching headgear for people in my predicament. Yes that is right the buub is going to almost certainly be a fat, hairy, bald man - perhaps the sadest of sad old men.
Thankfully, while the above prediciment would suggest that you found your trusty author in a rather black mood. On the contrary good followers, I am upbeat! As the last spokes passed the central point last year I was re-aquanted with a great, long neglected love. This love, whose name dare not be spoken around youthful beauty for fear of reproach from those lovely lips, has re-invigorated this aeging frame. All tjomgs piscatorial scream loudly from my head! It slipped out I swear.....
Works continues ad-nauseum. The idiocy of man now firmly rooted in machine. Our great vanity of control prooved foley by our inability to master a simple system of controls. There you go Da, finally a workable example of what I do - in lay men's terms.
So now I, a respectable and contributing member of this sinking ship, am taking some time out from the doom and gloom of daily grind to mark the interweb with these ramblings and to let you all know that I have been re-invigorated by the challenge of another. Your poe tree and gentle facebook reproach have rekindled my passion to chronical. To you I can only offer my eternal thanks for the gentle kicking and reminder that my art should not suffer.
Let this diatribe continue and thrive with a regularity not seen in previous cycles. This is my challenge to myself!
It is obtainable!
Anything is possible!
I mean anything must be possible, if this great Kingdom can be, and is being run by a cruel, unelected, dictatorial tyrant. Previously publicly likened to Stalin and more directly responsible for the current woes than any other inhabitant of this island. He sits a stride a government out of touch with its peoples and prescribes remedies to solve problems that he did not, apparently, create whilst presiding over the departments now currently held responsible.
I want to drink on the tubes!
IATB
This last, newly completed revolution brought with it many changes. Amoungst them a strange thinning of the bonce fluff. Yes I am developing a thining circle of hair at the back - another sign that I should perhaps put more effort into religious works. After all monks do have rather fetching headgear for people in my predicament. Yes that is right the buub is going to almost certainly be a fat, hairy, bald man - perhaps the sadest of sad old men.
Thankfully, while the above prediciment would suggest that you found your trusty author in a rather black mood. On the contrary good followers, I am upbeat! As the last spokes passed the central point last year I was re-aquanted with a great, long neglected love. This love, whose name dare not be spoken around youthful beauty for fear of reproach from those lovely lips, has re-invigorated this aeging frame. All tjomgs piscatorial scream loudly from my head! It slipped out I swear.....
Works continues ad-nauseum. The idiocy of man now firmly rooted in machine. Our great vanity of control prooved foley by our inability to master a simple system of controls. There you go Da, finally a workable example of what I do - in lay men's terms.
So now I, a respectable and contributing member of this sinking ship, am taking some time out from the doom and gloom of daily grind to mark the interweb with these ramblings and to let you all know that I have been re-invigorated by the challenge of another. Your poe tree and gentle facebook reproach have rekindled my passion to chronical. To you I can only offer my eternal thanks for the gentle kicking and reminder that my art should not suffer.
Let this diatribe continue and thrive with a regularity not seen in previous cycles. This is my challenge to myself!
It is obtainable!
Anything is possible!
I mean anything must be possible, if this great Kingdom can be, and is being run by a cruel, unelected, dictatorial tyrant. Previously publicly likened to Stalin and more directly responsible for the current woes than any other inhabitant of this island. He sits a stride a government out of touch with its peoples and prescribes remedies to solve problems that he did not, apparently, create whilst presiding over the departments now currently held responsible.
I want to drink on the tubes!
IATB
Friday, September 05, 2008
Been awhile
So I haven't posted anything for ages. The laundry list of excuses all come down to working to hard.
It is this very ethic that has caused me to miss out on each and every RATM performance this year. I cannot believe that I allowed this to happen. I sat, this past bank holiday Friday, at home alone. The girlfriend had gone off to Paris for a family doo. There I sat, alone - while one of my good work mates dirtied himself in the Reading pit - as Rage took to the stage and blasted a small, poorly pronounced English town into a fit of angry hysteria. I can admit to you good readers that I found myself fighting back tears of loss.
The rest of my bank holiday was filled with boats and Nottinghill festivals - good fun although little recompense for the loss of what I am sure would have been a life afferming - nah altering experience! The drunken river folk and night runs through the grand union canal prooving brilliant entertainment - yet nothing in comparison to the lost experience of seeing that angry midget collaborat with three musical bohemaths to strike out in song against Bush and his war mongering.
To add insult to injury I have been constantly haranged by said friend the past tow weeks with short sharp painful reminders by MSN and half whispered passings in the corridors. "Lights out, Guerilla Radio..." and "Fuck you I won't do what you tell me!"
Today as we speak he has launched out in attack of Lars and his drumming - after the followed RATM headlining the next night of the afore mentioned Reading festival.
Enough of this wallowing back to the world of work - at least the Aussie's finally saw their ass last weekend!!!!
It is this very ethic that has caused me to miss out on each and every RATM performance this year. I cannot believe that I allowed this to happen. I sat, this past bank holiday Friday, at home alone. The girlfriend had gone off to Paris for a family doo. There I sat, alone - while one of my good work mates dirtied himself in the Reading pit - as Rage took to the stage and blasted a small, poorly pronounced English town into a fit of angry hysteria. I can admit to you good readers that I found myself fighting back tears of loss.
The rest of my bank holiday was filled with boats and Nottinghill festivals - good fun although little recompense for the loss of what I am sure would have been a life afferming - nah altering experience! The drunken river folk and night runs through the grand union canal prooving brilliant entertainment - yet nothing in comparison to the lost experience of seeing that angry midget collaborat with three musical bohemaths to strike out in song against Bush and his war mongering.
To add insult to injury I have been constantly haranged by said friend the past tow weeks with short sharp painful reminders by MSN and half whispered passings in the corridors. "Lights out, Guerilla Radio..." and "Fuck you I won't do what you tell me!"
Today as we speak he has launched out in attack of Lars and his drumming - after the followed RATM headlining the next night of the afore mentioned Reading festival.
Enough of this wallowing back to the world of work - at least the Aussie's finally saw their ass last weekend!!!!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Another update
So I just looked at the blog and realised I have not published anything on it since August....
It is scary how quickly time, and my hair, is passing me by. Just got out of the barber's chair this afternoon. During the process I caught the pale glare off the two thinning spots at the back of my head. Seems like the worst is set to happen - I am going to end up an over-weight, hairy-backed, bald old man. C'est la vie, I guess. Ever onward as they say. I am toying with the idea of attributing my impending baldness as being a by product of my crazy life. Burned off by years of abuse and excess.... Don't think it will work with the ladies! Enough talk of my solar panels!
This last weekend I found myself at the O2 arena in East London. Why? For Dave Grohl and the Foo Fighters. What a great concert! Had a blast got right to the front and jumped around from 9 till 11pm. I got to see Bryan May play an acoustic guitar, experienced my first triangle solo and saw a really weird freak jump around in one of the two opening acts.
Time to get back to work.
Mahola!
It is scary how quickly time, and my hair, is passing me by. Just got out of the barber's chair this afternoon. During the process I caught the pale glare off the two thinning spots at the back of my head. Seems like the worst is set to happen - I am going to end up an over-weight, hairy-backed, bald old man. C'est la vie, I guess. Ever onward as they say. I am toying with the idea of attributing my impending baldness as being a by product of my crazy life. Burned off by years of abuse and excess.... Don't think it will work with the ladies! Enough talk of my solar panels!
This last weekend I found myself at the O2 arena in East London. Why? For Dave Grohl and the Foo Fighters. What a great concert! Had a blast got right to the front and jumped around from 9 till 11pm. I got to see Bryan May play an acoustic guitar, experienced my first triangle solo and saw a really weird freak jump around in one of the two opening acts.
Time to get back to work.
Mahola!
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Another weekend - another festival
I just wanted to put this up on the web for any of you good readers who still check this site in the hopes of finding news. Someone is going to the V festival tomorrow! That would be me by the way. Just a short teaser
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Fear and Loathing in air travel
"Be careful what you wish for." How many times have I heard that? Well dear reader let me tell you that I have certainly not heard it enough. This entry finds me at a desk in a Hilton Hotel in Glasgow, drowning - professionally at least.
I have been working toward this for the last two years. I am out here on the company dollar - with total credit. However, I have no one to share it with. I need my lawyer! Get him over here so we can get deep into the essence of this business travel beast.
The recent terror attacks on the airports of the United Kingdom have made the transportation of narcotics, hard or soft, an act for an even more exclusive group of lunatics, ner-do-wells and in-debt to their eyeballs mules. No fair friend the risks of moving illicit substances, on your person or within your luggage, by air are now just too high. Those bastard fringe groups will one day payt the price for what they have done to we harmless, idiosincratic perveyours of total personal freedom. Their attacks on our air links have only hardened the resolve of the powers that be. The terrorist's cause lost on us the general public as we all swear - sometimes silently but normally screaming from our angry, waiting eyes - as we wait in ever increasing lines that move ever slower until eventually they will just stop.
You read this and think what weird rant is he going on this time? Well let me get there - in my own way! Stop interupting me! Damnit, now I have lost the whole thread of this post.... Give me some time to review it and find my flow again...
Yes, there it is again - lines in airports that don't move. The terrorists have cottened onto this already. And have already changed their plan of attack. Look at the incident at Glasgow Airport three weeks or so ago. Some fundamentalists got together up here in Scotland and decided it was time for the Scottish sects to throw their terror hats into the mix. Can you imagine!
"How are ya doin' the' Jimmy Seek?"
"Naught, to complain aboot and yew Jimmy?"
"Na, naught here either, what say yew and I go awf and do us a litl' terror act in Glasgow?"
"Ay, auf we go then Jimmy!"
"Ay, for our Muslem brother's in Iraq!"
"Ay!"
So off they go bomb paced into the back of a grand cherocke Jeep. But this attack was different. They hit the airport. Why? Well the lines, thats why dear friend. Why take the chance with getting that bomb through security to attempt to blow up a plane load of passengers and take out whatever the fireball is lucky enough to hit? Why, indead when you can hit the airport, full to the brim with waiting passengers who are going nowhere - not for the next 24hrs at least. No sir the averages are against hitting the plane. What 100 - 400 passengers - 10 crew and whoever was unlucky enough to be standing under their umbrella, feet deep in water on this wet island. When you can hit thousands of angry, waiting queues of people. And all without having to clear security!
Show no fear dear friend - keep an eye out while queuing at the check in and remmeber to relax on the other side - shoes back on - duty free ahead of you and luggage stores everywhere - in case you forgot not only to pack properly but rather to take anything with you at all for fear of it being destroyed either by the terrorists or the baggage handlers.
Mahalo
I have been working toward this for the last two years. I am out here on the company dollar - with total credit. However, I have no one to share it with. I need my lawyer! Get him over here so we can get deep into the essence of this business travel beast.
The recent terror attacks on the airports of the United Kingdom have made the transportation of narcotics, hard or soft, an act for an even more exclusive group of lunatics, ner-do-wells and in-debt to their eyeballs mules. No fair friend the risks of moving illicit substances, on your person or within your luggage, by air are now just too high. Those bastard fringe groups will one day payt the price for what they have done to we harmless, idiosincratic perveyours of total personal freedom. Their attacks on our air links have only hardened the resolve of the powers that be. The terrorist's cause lost on us the general public as we all swear - sometimes silently but normally screaming from our angry, waiting eyes - as we wait in ever increasing lines that move ever slower until eventually they will just stop.
You read this and think what weird rant is he going on this time? Well let me get there - in my own way! Stop interupting me! Damnit, now I have lost the whole thread of this post.... Give me some time to review it and find my flow again...
Yes, there it is again - lines in airports that don't move. The terrorists have cottened onto this already. And have already changed their plan of attack. Look at the incident at Glasgow Airport three weeks or so ago. Some fundamentalists got together up here in Scotland and decided it was time for the Scottish sects to throw their terror hats into the mix. Can you imagine!
"How are ya doin' the' Jimmy Seek?"
"Naught, to complain aboot and yew Jimmy?"
"Na, naught here either, what say yew and I go awf and do us a litl' terror act in Glasgow?"
"Ay, auf we go then Jimmy!"
"Ay, for our Muslem brother's in Iraq!"
"Ay!"
So off they go bomb paced into the back of a grand cherocke Jeep. But this attack was different. They hit the airport. Why? Well the lines, thats why dear friend. Why take the chance with getting that bomb through security to attempt to blow up a plane load of passengers and take out whatever the fireball is lucky enough to hit? Why, indead when you can hit the airport, full to the brim with waiting passengers who are going nowhere - not for the next 24hrs at least. No sir the averages are against hitting the plane. What 100 - 400 passengers - 10 crew and whoever was unlucky enough to be standing under their umbrella, feet deep in water on this wet island. When you can hit thousands of angry, waiting queues of people. And all without having to clear security!
Show no fear dear friend - keep an eye out while queuing at the check in and remmeber to relax on the other side - shoes back on - duty free ahead of you and luggage stores everywhere - in case you forgot not only to pack properly but rather to take anything with you at all for fear of it being destroyed either by the terrorists or the baggage handlers.
Mahalo
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
The other side and beyond
The last 5 days have been eventful! Glastonbury kicked off for me at about lunch on Wednesday. I jumped into the car - grabbed one aussie and some last minute supplies in Maidenhead and careened down the M4 motorway, heading west toward Glastonbury! We arrived about three hours later. The solstace being good enough to afford us the most amount of sunshine possible for the erection of our camp: two tents; one tarp.
That night there was relative silence in the valley. The squatter camp of party goers only breaking the natural silence to begin a large vocal wave of noise and then sitting back to listen to flow through and arround the site, killing the calm and awakening the monsters within. A good thing too as normal human beings would be hard pressed to make it out of that place with their sanity intact.
The first thing that strikes you is the size of the whole thing. There were upward of 150 thousand people attending this year! The area of land it covers is massive too. Although not big enough to allow people to casually take up space for camp sites. Tents are errected and by the beginnning of Friday morning the ground is a wash with guide ropes and half malleted tent pegs, all intertwined forming a great mass of semi-rain resistant coverings. It was already evident at this stage - the movements of the 80% or so of people who had got in and set up over the last two days had left an enormous toll on the ground. It has rained each night since I had arrived. The rain softening the grass, ground and cow pats into a soft clay - waiting for the commings and goings of the throngs to take away the last of the sensibilities of the surface. By Friday night there were huge areas of the main tracks that were simply impassible - yet people carried on.
Saturday morning drew me from yet another dry, airbed assisted sleep. To another grey wet and cold morning. The world outside heaving with the expectation of an enormous day full of live music - dance and socially acceptable drug usage. At a festical, it is worth saying, anything short of scag becomes socially acceptable. The welly clad hippie sect that had gathered in Somerset this past weekend were no different. We were surrounded by the hopelessly drunk - confused and lost. All around us there was evidence of the blind leading the blind. And all of us in danger of being swallowed alive by the mud. The weight of the throng, and their movements, only serving to further increase the danger...
We entered on Saturday night. We advanced to a forward position and took up our posts - front and center - before the Kooks. Their youthful, cheary guitars serving as a more than pleasant interlude before the Americans... The Killers attacked the Glastonbury crowd with well oiled riffs and shiny suits. I have heard tell of poor sound quality from others - for me, up front, I had none of this. They performed their set list - returned for an encore and the lights came up signalling the end of the second days preceedings.
Sunday we awoke and broke camp - packed the car and headed back to the pyramid stage. It was here that the Kaiser Chiefs would soon pick up their electric axes and carve out an opening for the Who. The mud had taken its toll on the festival goers. Heavy set drunks had found solice in canvas seating. The roar of the crowd being brought together seemlessly for the anthemic singalongs as the groups chanted and beseached the crowd to lend their voice and join in.
With night now on us - work beconing to some the next day we headed off early - missing the Who to be responsible and get home safe. The down pour that greated us during their set asssuring me that although I knew I had missed out on talking about my generation - I had in the end made the right choice. Unable to see through the windscreen - I soldiered on down the M4 back into London. Found my bed and huncered in for a night of built up luxury.
So after all this I am left to say what finally of Glastonbury? I can only say that as festivals go I have never experienced anything as pleasant despite the mud and wet. The comaradarie of the experience and the magnitude of the event have been etched deep into my memory. I have seen the mud fields of Glastonbury in June and I have returned smiling and happy to have taken part.
That night there was relative silence in the valley. The squatter camp of party goers only breaking the natural silence to begin a large vocal wave of noise and then sitting back to listen to flow through and arround the site, killing the calm and awakening the monsters within. A good thing too as normal human beings would be hard pressed to make it out of that place with their sanity intact.
The first thing that strikes you is the size of the whole thing. There were upward of 150 thousand people attending this year! The area of land it covers is massive too. Although not big enough to allow people to casually take up space for camp sites. Tents are errected and by the beginnning of Friday morning the ground is a wash with guide ropes and half malleted tent pegs, all intertwined forming a great mass of semi-rain resistant coverings. It was already evident at this stage - the movements of the 80% or so of people who had got in and set up over the last two days had left an enormous toll on the ground. It has rained each night since I had arrived. The rain softening the grass, ground and cow pats into a soft clay - waiting for the commings and goings of the throngs to take away the last of the sensibilities of the surface. By Friday night there were huge areas of the main tracks that were simply impassible - yet people carried on.
Saturday morning drew me from yet another dry, airbed assisted sleep. To another grey wet and cold morning. The world outside heaving with the expectation of an enormous day full of live music - dance and socially acceptable drug usage. At a festical, it is worth saying, anything short of scag becomes socially acceptable. The welly clad hippie sect that had gathered in Somerset this past weekend were no different. We were surrounded by the hopelessly drunk - confused and lost. All around us there was evidence of the blind leading the blind. And all of us in danger of being swallowed alive by the mud. The weight of the throng, and their movements, only serving to further increase the danger...
We entered on Saturday night. We advanced to a forward position and took up our posts - front and center - before the Kooks. Their youthful, cheary guitars serving as a more than pleasant interlude before the Americans... The Killers attacked the Glastonbury crowd with well oiled riffs and shiny suits. I have heard tell of poor sound quality from others - for me, up front, I had none of this. They performed their set list - returned for an encore and the lights came up signalling the end of the second days preceedings.
Sunday we awoke and broke camp - packed the car and headed back to the pyramid stage. It was here that the Kaiser Chiefs would soon pick up their electric axes and carve out an opening for the Who. The mud had taken its toll on the festival goers. Heavy set drunks had found solice in canvas seating. The roar of the crowd being brought together seemlessly for the anthemic singalongs as the groups chanted and beseached the crowd to lend their voice and join in.
With night now on us - work beconing to some the next day we headed off early - missing the Who to be responsible and get home safe. The down pour that greated us during their set asssuring me that although I knew I had missed out on talking about my generation - I had in the end made the right choice. Unable to see through the windscreen - I soldiered on down the M4 back into London. Found my bed and huncered in for a night of built up luxury.
So after all this I am left to say what finally of Glastonbury? I can only say that as festivals go I have never experienced anything as pleasant despite the mud and wet. The comaradarie of the experience and the magnitude of the event have been etched deep into my memory. I have seen the mud fields of Glastonbury in June and I have returned smiling and happy to have taken part.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Glastonbury
So I am here, sitting at work. Waiting for the criminal offspring of a past fellon. His arrival at the Maidenhead railway station marking the beginning of my Glastonbury experience. I am about to take part in the longest running music festival of my time. I have dreamt of Glastonbury now for many years. Although it seems that I may be suffering through one of the lighter lineups to grace the stages of Glastonbury.
So it is off to the mud with me - tent up in 5 hours - god willing. The summer equinox, being today, will help mark this date in my memory.
I will update you all from the otherside of the mud.
So it is off to the mud with me - tent up in 5 hours - god willing. The summer equinox, being today, will help mark this date in my memory.
I will update you all from the otherside of the mud.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Update
Once again I begin with an apology for my lethargic updating trend. Sorry. Well since my last post a fair amount has happened. I have been travelling, promoted and much much more.
So I have been in talks for my first European car. These talks resulted in my purchasing of a small Renault clio 1 1994 M reg. This I drove Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday morning before leaving for San Francisco. On my return I had to replace the fan belt and then on driving it back home - smash some guy drove in a white Renault van drove in to the back of me at a zebra crossing. Brilliant!!
So it seems at the moment that after taking my first steps into the commute on your own steam steps that I have been knocked right back down to the train club... What can you do - at least it was not my accident.
San Francisco was an eye-opener, I have now seen Dallas, NYC and San Fran. All three cities complete different from one another. San Francisco is an awesome place. It still retains a lot of its hippie crest and at the same time has moved successfully into the modern world. Berkley finally showed me what I had always hoped a university environment would be. There was a vibe of serious contemplation and discussion on all topics. I was taken to a place called the cheese board one evening for pizza and jazz. The jazz courtesy of a trio of high school kids. Sitting in the collective I got a taste of the beat poet vibe and a look at the university freak show - where the unwashed and washed, suited and casual, young and old gather together to enjoy the designer pizza and music and just sit around burning time with informed debate on whatever topic has caught their or their professor's fancy at the moment. Yes I did use the word informed in reference to American people... This is what made San Fran great.
On my return I was greated by the car fiasco, which although unpleasant is not the end of the world. I should come out ahead of the game at least. I got in touch with the other guys insurance and claimed the right to courtesy car and on Friday headed down to Wales for a weekend of camping, fishing and moutain biking. I hope to have footage of the later for you all soon. As for the fishing - well - I was bested by the damned fish. The next paragraph is for Nick and anyone else who feins intrest in the intracasies of fly fishing.
The buggers were taking on suspended midges and dry flies, rabs and with little red suspended midges on the dropper. The issues was they would not take on tyippet higher than 1.5 kg and these were some monster fish, the water was so clear you could see them missioning around in the water. So initially fishing with my orvis 8 weight seemed like the plan. Quickly I chaged down to the 2-3 weight as I was being snapped off everytime I lifted the rod to strike. Even with the 2-3 I was being snapped off the moment there was any tention on the line. I managed to fight a couple of the buggers for an extended period of time but as the fishing was barbless and I could find no way of getting any tension on I remained fishless.
Enough of that. I am back at work now 4 days until the weekend. Then a three day week before I am off to Glastonbury. On my return it seems that I might head off to gay Paris to see the boss and then off to the Dam for a weekend.
This year is rounding the last corner into the home straight toward Christmas and New Years. Hope you are all keeping your heads and that it is all going well. Looking forward to seeing you all when I see you.
Keep it real
So I have been in talks for my first European car. These talks resulted in my purchasing of a small Renault clio 1 1994 M reg. This I drove Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday morning before leaving for San Francisco. On my return I had to replace the fan belt and then on driving it back home - smash some guy drove in a white Renault van drove in to the back of me at a zebra crossing. Brilliant!!
So it seems at the moment that after taking my first steps into the commute on your own steam steps that I have been knocked right back down to the train club... What can you do - at least it was not my accident.
San Francisco was an eye-opener, I have now seen Dallas, NYC and San Fran. All three cities complete different from one another. San Francisco is an awesome place. It still retains a lot of its hippie crest and at the same time has moved successfully into the modern world. Berkley finally showed me what I had always hoped a university environment would be. There was a vibe of serious contemplation and discussion on all topics. I was taken to a place called the cheese board one evening for pizza and jazz. The jazz courtesy of a trio of high school kids. Sitting in the collective I got a taste of the beat poet vibe and a look at the university freak show - where the unwashed and washed, suited and casual, young and old gather together to enjoy the designer pizza and music and just sit around burning time with informed debate on whatever topic has caught their or their professor's fancy at the moment. Yes I did use the word informed in reference to American people... This is what made San Fran great.
On my return I was greated by the car fiasco, which although unpleasant is not the end of the world. I should come out ahead of the game at least. I got in touch with the other guys insurance and claimed the right to courtesy car and on Friday headed down to Wales for a weekend of camping, fishing and moutain biking. I hope to have footage of the later for you all soon. As for the fishing - well - I was bested by the damned fish. The next paragraph is for Nick and anyone else who feins intrest in the intracasies of fly fishing.
The buggers were taking on suspended midges and dry flies, rabs and with little red suspended midges on the dropper. The issues was they would not take on tyippet higher than 1.5 kg and these were some monster fish, the water was so clear you could see them missioning around in the water. So initially fishing with my orvis 8 weight seemed like the plan. Quickly I chaged down to the 2-3 weight as I was being snapped off everytime I lifted the rod to strike. Even with the 2-3 I was being snapped off the moment there was any tention on the line. I managed to fight a couple of the buggers for an extended period of time but as the fishing was barbless and I could find no way of getting any tension on I remained fishless.
Enough of that. I am back at work now 4 days until the weekend. Then a three day week before I am off to Glastonbury. On my return it seems that I might head off to gay Paris to see the boss and then off to the Dam for a weekend.
This year is rounding the last corner into the home straight toward Christmas and New Years. Hope you are all keeping your heads and that it is all going well. Looking forward to seeing you all when I see you.
Keep it real
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Peppe "The Wall" Reiner
Two things are of memorable note from last night's penalty shoot out.
1. Peppe "the Wall" Reiner stopped 3 out of 4 penalties taken by the Chelsea players
2. Frank Lampard - the only English, Chelsea penalty taker - was the only Chelsea player to find the net the entire game.
Imagine that an English footballer not being responsible for loosing a penalty shoot out.
1. Peppe "the Wall" Reiner stopped 3 out of 4 penalties taken by the Chelsea players
2. Frank Lampard - the only English, Chelsea penalty taker - was the only Chelsea player to find the net the entire game.
Imagine that an English footballer not being responsible for loosing a penalty shoot out.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
When work seems like it sucking the life right out from your very soul
I am sitting here today - while all my usual south african MSN mates are sitting at home enjoying their public holiday. Me, I am trying desperatley to see out the hours to the end of the day.
At the moment the worst part of my working day takes place after lunch. I get into the office and put my head down - soon to find that it is time to head off to the town center to pick up a bite and a coffee on the high street and enjoy my lunch hour. My return to work finds my resolve broken and my mind preoccupied with thoughts of trains, televised sport and relaxation. This said I am somehow managing to keep my workload under control and as such am not even feeling the pressure to get work done.
Anyway tonight Chelsea will attempt to finnish off the Liverpudlean dream of lifting the Champions League Cup for a 6th time. So holding thumbs.
At the moment the worst part of my working day takes place after lunch. I get into the office and put my head down - soon to find that it is time to head off to the town center to pick up a bite and a coffee on the high street and enjoy my lunch hour. My return to work finds my resolve broken and my mind preoccupied with thoughts of trains, televised sport and relaxation. This said I am somehow managing to keep my workload under control and as such am not even feeling the pressure to get work done.
Anyway tonight Chelsea will attempt to finnish off the Liverpudlean dream of lifting the Champions League Cup for a 6th time. So holding thumbs.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Cricket
I must jump on the band wagon here I am afraid. Despite my regular refusal to admit to my base South African-ness it is at times of great defeat and victory in the sporting arenas that I must admit that I am far more moved by South African sport than any other.
This said I fear that I too must lend my voice to the cacophony of bitterness that must naturally follow such a dismal performance by Graham and his boys. I have heard the argument from some corners that we were always underdogs and that the Aussies were always going to trump us. Fair enough. However, there is beating and then there is humiliating.
When the two teams faced each other before the super 8's we lost to them but it was a proper game. Good run chase and good cricket. Then there was yesterday!
If the Proteas did not throw that game... Well I can only hope that they did and that they did so for enormous amounts of cash that have been ear-marked to ensure the entire team's offspring's education and futures! Otherwise South African cricket has gone the way of the Zimbabwean democratic process! The parallels between the obviously fault riddled omnipotence of Mogabi and the South African Cricket Selectors board could be drawn by any 12 year old who has ever held a bat in anger for their school or, dare I say it stood in a backyard with his mates, in the sun, playing the make-shift backyard version of the game. I mean who other than the Sri Lankan's would play Nell/Langeveld over Ntini? Where were Rudolph and McKenzie? There are questions a plenty here.
We could spend some time drawing parallels between Pollock's dismal effort four years ago and Smith's attempted captancy. But I will not as I see Pollock's errors 4 years ago as mistakes brought on by poor communications and even worse maths. But Smith's performance yesterday was as I have already said either the result of some intricate match fixing ring or simply the reason why you always look to the older more experienced people for leadership.
I am ending this with the feverant wish that South African sport in general will find its feet and start to be competitive again. I realise that this is perhaps to much to ask on the evidence of yesterday so I have a second wish if the later is not possible for any genies out there to grant me. The second prize is simple. Let me find someway to truly change my allegience - I would be happy to become an English supporter as even though they loose , and perhaps even more frequently than South African sides, at least these loses are honourable and not the result of what I strongly suspect to be dishonourable, suspect financial transactions.
Bring back the days of Hansie - at least then we threw games with some tact and dignity!
This said I fear that I too must lend my voice to the cacophony of bitterness that must naturally follow such a dismal performance by Graham and his boys. I have heard the argument from some corners that we were always underdogs and that the Aussies were always going to trump us. Fair enough. However, there is beating and then there is humiliating.
When the two teams faced each other before the super 8's we lost to them but it was a proper game. Good run chase and good cricket. Then there was yesterday!
If the Proteas did not throw that game... Well I can only hope that they did and that they did so for enormous amounts of cash that have been ear-marked to ensure the entire team's offspring's education and futures! Otherwise South African cricket has gone the way of the Zimbabwean democratic process! The parallels between the obviously fault riddled omnipotence of Mogabi and the South African Cricket Selectors board could be drawn by any 12 year old who has ever held a bat in anger for their school or, dare I say it stood in a backyard with his mates, in the sun, playing the make-shift backyard version of the game. I mean who other than the Sri Lankan's would play Nell/Langeveld over Ntini? Where were Rudolph and McKenzie? There are questions a plenty here.
We could spend some time drawing parallels between Pollock's dismal effort four years ago and Smith's attempted captancy. But I will not as I see Pollock's errors 4 years ago as mistakes brought on by poor communications and even worse maths. But Smith's performance yesterday was as I have already said either the result of some intricate match fixing ring or simply the reason why you always look to the older more experienced people for leadership.
I am ending this with the feverant wish that South African sport in general will find its feet and start to be competitive again. I realise that this is perhaps to much to ask on the evidence of yesterday so I have a second wish if the later is not possible for any genies out there to grant me. The second prize is simple. Let me find someway to truly change my allegience - I would be happy to become an English supporter as even though they loose , and perhaps even more frequently than South African sides, at least these loses are honourable and not the result of what I strongly suspect to be dishonourable, suspect financial transactions.
Bring back the days of Hansie - at least then we threw games with some tact and dignity!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Blast from the distant relms of summery Britain
So I have been decidedly bad at updating my blog of late. To anyone out there who is still checking it regularly - if indeed there are any of you out there - I apologise.
So what is news? Simple - Summer! Yes she has hit Britain well and proper now. Things are brighter and lighter. The mood of the populace is decidedly more upbeat again - as it is every summer.
Work is going extremly well. I am moving into the delivery side of the RightNow business. I will be a professional services implementation consultant soon. They are taking some time to get me my offer letter to make it final and formal but it is to be expected in this place. The new job will see me working almost entirely from home and/or customer sites. I will be implementing our software to the customer's specifications - testing - some training - configuration and some enduser look and feel customisations. Hope that anybody reading that understood it and gained some valuable insight out of it as to what I do and why they pay me to do it. I am sure from what you have read above you realise that it is not exactly what you would deem a labour of love.
I have joined up to a social networking web community called facebook. I am quite impressed by it and what it does. I have managed to get in touch with a very old friend from WHPS, Edward Lewis, through the site. Hadn't spoken to him since we were 10 years old. He is living here in London according to his profile and I am hoping to meet up with him soon to cathc up over a beer.
The British summer brings with it many music festivals. This year I am hitting the big one - Glastonbury. Unfortunatly the rantscanting pete has now pulled out of this - generally regarded as the biggest music festival in the world. I have bought a two room, six sleeper tent for the festival and cannot wait the two months until it rolls around.
Also this year sees the tour de france starting in England - so I am really looking forward to watching the prologue as they race through central London. It will certainly be a highlight of my summer along with Glastonbury and hopefully the Foo Fighters. I don't know how I am going to get to see them this year but I am going to make a plan. I saw Bob Dylan last week and am still pinching myself that I have had that priviledge.
Unfortunatly my big plans for the summer have now fallen through. My friend Mat - who is a qualified skipper - has had to pull out of the summer sailing holiday. His withdrawl means that I would need to pay for a skipper to sail the boat - this drives the cost up and makes it impossible for the rest of my mates to join me on the holiday. So alas no sailing the Dalmatian coastline anytime soon.
I spoke to my mom last week and she is trying to get me to come back to SA for Christmas. I am quite set on travelling to new places this year so I am still debating this one... The verdict is still out and I will endevour to keep you all up to date on any changes to this.
What else to tell you?
Not much really - hoping to see Jimbo and Nick over here on holiday in September. Always good to have really good mates around. As always the most valuable lesson a traveller can learn is how much the people you leave behind mean to you. SOB, SOB....
So I am fast drawing toward my third year away from mother Africa. It is scary how fast time slips by - lately it has seemed even faster still. I cannot believe we are almost into May already with June, and the half way mark, just around the corner. So far this year has seemed to shoot past even faster than usual.
Even scarier is the fact that I don't think I am any closer to having any clue about what will make me truely happy and what I really what to do. I am living comfortably doing what I am doing at the moment - got good mates around me and this seems enough for the moment. However, somewhere deep back "there", I am mindful that almost all of my London mates will be heading off to their respective homes and lives in the next year leaving me here in London. Many of them are moving to Australia/New Zealand. I have been there and done that and will not be following them. My course it seems is set for Europe, the states and maybe Dubai. Or at least this is where I am hoping my compass will point - not in that particular order perhaps but that is what I would like to do. As for a return to South Africa. I cannot see myself returning for more than a holiday unless there are huge changes. I would love to move back and live there again with my family and friends around me but I do not see this happening so I am left to wonder the rest of the planet looking for a new place for my coat and hat. England is certainly not that place. Although for now it does offer me all that I need. Cheap, convenient travel - good money and London with her bustle and excitement is always a source of entertainment. To live and work in London is to have the entire world at your feet - you pay for this with the weather - unattractive people - poor dental care and the always present fear of infection from hospitals. But during the summer you forget all of that for 4 months when the sun is out until 10pm and the beer gardens are full of people. The beer gardens are brilliant as you are able to sit out in the mild, unafrican sun and enjoy cold largers ( usually fosters). As the afternoon drags on and the beer count stacks up you also have the added benefit of the people becoming prettier and prettier and with any luck you wake up chewing through your own arm, swearing to yourself that you will never drink again, as you desperatly try to escape the British swamp donkey you have woken up next too without waking her.
With that little gem I leave you and return to my work for the day.
Keep it real all and I hope to see you all soon.
So what is news? Simple - Summer! Yes she has hit Britain well and proper now. Things are brighter and lighter. The mood of the populace is decidedly more upbeat again - as it is every summer.
Work is going extremly well. I am moving into the delivery side of the RightNow business. I will be a professional services implementation consultant soon. They are taking some time to get me my offer letter to make it final and formal but it is to be expected in this place. The new job will see me working almost entirely from home and/or customer sites. I will be implementing our software to the customer's specifications - testing - some training - configuration and some enduser look and feel customisations. Hope that anybody reading that understood it and gained some valuable insight out of it as to what I do and why they pay me to do it. I am sure from what you have read above you realise that it is not exactly what you would deem a labour of love.
I have joined up to a social networking web community called facebook. I am quite impressed by it and what it does. I have managed to get in touch with a very old friend from WHPS, Edward Lewis, through the site. Hadn't spoken to him since we were 10 years old. He is living here in London according to his profile and I am hoping to meet up with him soon to cathc up over a beer.
The British summer brings with it many music festivals. This year I am hitting the big one - Glastonbury. Unfortunatly the rantscanting pete has now pulled out of this - generally regarded as the biggest music festival in the world. I have bought a two room, six sleeper tent for the festival and cannot wait the two months until it rolls around.
Also this year sees the tour de france starting in England - so I am really looking forward to watching the prologue as they race through central London. It will certainly be a highlight of my summer along with Glastonbury and hopefully the Foo Fighters. I don't know how I am going to get to see them this year but I am going to make a plan. I saw Bob Dylan last week and am still pinching myself that I have had that priviledge.
Unfortunatly my big plans for the summer have now fallen through. My friend Mat - who is a qualified skipper - has had to pull out of the summer sailing holiday. His withdrawl means that I would need to pay for a skipper to sail the boat - this drives the cost up and makes it impossible for the rest of my mates to join me on the holiday. So alas no sailing the Dalmatian coastline anytime soon.
I spoke to my mom last week and she is trying to get me to come back to SA for Christmas. I am quite set on travelling to new places this year so I am still debating this one... The verdict is still out and I will endevour to keep you all up to date on any changes to this.
What else to tell you?
Not much really - hoping to see Jimbo and Nick over here on holiday in September. Always good to have really good mates around. As always the most valuable lesson a traveller can learn is how much the people you leave behind mean to you. SOB, SOB....
So I am fast drawing toward my third year away from mother Africa. It is scary how fast time slips by - lately it has seemed even faster still. I cannot believe we are almost into May already with June, and the half way mark, just around the corner. So far this year has seemed to shoot past even faster than usual.
Even scarier is the fact that I don't think I am any closer to having any clue about what will make me truely happy and what I really what to do. I am living comfortably doing what I am doing at the moment - got good mates around me and this seems enough for the moment. However, somewhere deep back "there", I am mindful that almost all of my London mates will be heading off to their respective homes and lives in the next year leaving me here in London. Many of them are moving to Australia/New Zealand. I have been there and done that and will not be following them. My course it seems is set for Europe, the states and maybe Dubai. Or at least this is where I am hoping my compass will point - not in that particular order perhaps but that is what I would like to do. As for a return to South Africa. I cannot see myself returning for more than a holiday unless there are huge changes. I would love to move back and live there again with my family and friends around me but I do not see this happening so I am left to wonder the rest of the planet looking for a new place for my coat and hat. England is certainly not that place. Although for now it does offer me all that I need. Cheap, convenient travel - good money and London with her bustle and excitement is always a source of entertainment. To live and work in London is to have the entire world at your feet - you pay for this with the weather - unattractive people - poor dental care and the always present fear of infection from hospitals. But during the summer you forget all of that for 4 months when the sun is out until 10pm and the beer gardens are full of people. The beer gardens are brilliant as you are able to sit out in the mild, unafrican sun and enjoy cold largers ( usually fosters). As the afternoon drags on and the beer count stacks up you also have the added benefit of the people becoming prettier and prettier and with any luck you wake up chewing through your own arm, swearing to yourself that you will never drink again, as you desperatly try to escape the British swamp donkey you have woken up next too without waking her.
With that little gem I leave you and return to my work for the day.
Keep it real all and I hope to see you all soon.
Friday, April 13, 2007
VAl D'Isere Snowbaording vol 8
And this is how it is done. A nice long ride some good speed down the piste and then the best of the recorded bails from my week in Val D'Isere this winter.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
On My wAY!!!
Honey you been wasting your time! Get it on - go you good thing and this is dincum brilliant aussie rock
Spiderbait - Calypso
Here is something from my time in Australia that I thought I had lost but thanks to youtube I have rediscoverd. Used to enjoy this a lot on channel V during 1996.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
February Stars
So as February threw up the last of her stars last night - I began the mental preperation for the 9 o'clock ticket rush. Today the V festival tickets went on sale vie telephonic and web channels. I knuckled down and got into position, fingers over the keyboard, at 8:50. Had a look around the site and found the page. I was on it when the logo skipped over from comming soon to - tickets available. Without pause I clicked.....
The screen refreshed. We will deal with your request in 1 minute ... refresh ... 2minutes ... refresh ... 3 minutes... It topped out at 15 minutes. I breathed a sigh of relief as the counter started to decrement. Heading back down to 5 ... 4 ... minutes ... 1 minute. Brilliant almost there, almost Foo'd up for the third year in a row.
Alas as with all things I dreamt too soon. The festival tickets sold out within 20 minutes of going on sale. This does not mean that I will not be seeing them. It simply means that I will be paying some bastard tout a large sum of money to see the greatest pure rock band out there at the moment.
Bring on the summer!!!!!
The screen refreshed. We will deal with your request in 1 minute ... refresh ... 2minutes ... refresh ... 3 minutes... It topped out at 15 minutes. I breathed a sigh of relief as the counter started to decrement. Heading back down to 5 ... 4 ... minutes ... 1 minute. Brilliant almost there, almost Foo'd up for the third year in a row.
Alas as with all things I dreamt too soon. The festival tickets sold out within 20 minutes of going on sale. This does not mean that I will not be seeing them. It simply means that I will be paying some bastard tout a large sum of money to see the greatest pure rock band out there at the moment.
Bring on the summer!!!!!
Friday, February 23, 2007
The Chinese Have finally taken it too far!!!
So having grown up in a very race conscious society I have always taken the adds on South African TV where the chinese tourist trys to get his photo taken with a lion in Kruger with a pinch of salt. No more! The link below will take you to the BBC website where you will see just how far the Chinese population are willing to go for that "special" wild life experience....
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/6390005.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/6390005.stm
Monday, February 05, 2007
Watangi Day
So many years ago a bunch of Europeans found two little islands due East of Australia. Rather than send the already feral convicts of Australia to this new haven a non criminal element was selected to go and bring the white religion to the islands.
Any how some kind of white native treaty celebrates some amount of years since signing tomorrow, Tuesday 06 February. In celebration of this the masses of Kiwis that have made London there temporary to permanent homes at the moment descended on mass to the circle line underground trains. The celebration took the form of a pub crawl, one which took advantage of the circuitous train line to bring the crowds of islanders to each of the stops on her line in search of establishments were beer could be purchased. The celebration is christened every year at 4pm on parliament square, where a Hakka is performed outside the houses of parliament. Drunk Kiwis are joined in this celebration by their friends and the odd Australian - normally uninvited due to their poor history of behaviour around booze and natives.
So as I am sharing a house with a proud Kiwi - I sercummed and headed out to make Westminster tube stop for 4 to see the Hakka. The originally stated intention was to see this tribal war dance performed and then cruise the two stops to Temple where we would hit the walkabout and watch England play, in retrospect this should apparently be replaced with the term trounce, Scotland. However the power of the Kiwi number and their personality kept me entertained enough to see the next 18 stops through to Paddington and miss the rugby match. A fair effort that I am quite rightly proud of.
I noted some interesting points about theses islanders as I have now met a few of them. I believe now more than ever that this is a land where not much happens out side of the world of fantasy. This is because a number of the Kiwwi's I met and questioned on their place of origin would say I am from the (north/south) island near (christchurch/Auckland/....), where they filmed (hobitton/mordor/...) or some other strange reference to the Lord of the Rings. Seriously I mean at least we as Anglo/African's can say things like I was born in London and first lived in a flat round the corner from Abbey Road studios - where the Beatles recorded their albums. Or I was born in Kimberly where they found the Kimberly diamond. All interesting facts that are grounded in reality. On top of this none of the people I talked to seem to even have a clue about the amount and quality of wild brown trout in the country streams and rivers.
Anyway I should stop this rant here and re-direct my efforts to the job that pays the bills
Have great weeks and keep checking this space for updates.
Any how some kind of white native treaty celebrates some amount of years since signing tomorrow, Tuesday 06 February. In celebration of this the masses of Kiwis that have made London there temporary to permanent homes at the moment descended on mass to the circle line underground trains. The celebration took the form of a pub crawl, one which took advantage of the circuitous train line to bring the crowds of islanders to each of the stops on her line in search of establishments were beer could be purchased. The celebration is christened every year at 4pm on parliament square, where a Hakka is performed outside the houses of parliament. Drunk Kiwis are joined in this celebration by their friends and the odd Australian - normally uninvited due to their poor history of behaviour around booze and natives.
So as I am sharing a house with a proud Kiwi - I sercummed and headed out to make Westminster tube stop for 4 to see the Hakka. The originally stated intention was to see this tribal war dance performed and then cruise the two stops to Temple where we would hit the walkabout and watch England play, in retrospect this should apparently be replaced with the term trounce, Scotland. However the power of the Kiwi number and their personality kept me entertained enough to see the next 18 stops through to Paddington and miss the rugby match. A fair effort that I am quite rightly proud of.
I noted some interesting points about theses islanders as I have now met a few of them. I believe now more than ever that this is a land where not much happens out side of the world of fantasy. This is because a number of the Kiwwi's I met and questioned on their place of origin would say I am from the (north/south) island near (christchurch/Auckland/....), where they filmed (hobitton/mordor/...) or some other strange reference to the Lord of the Rings. Seriously I mean at least we as Anglo/African's can say things like I was born in London and first lived in a flat round the corner from Abbey Road studios - where the Beatles recorded their albums. Or I was born in Kimberly where they found the Kimberly diamond. All interesting facts that are grounded in reality. On top of this none of the people I talked to seem to even have a clue about the amount and quality of wild brown trout in the country streams and rivers.
Anyway I should stop this rant here and re-direct my efforts to the job that pays the bills
Have great weeks and keep checking this space for updates.
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