One mug of Earl Grey if you please.
No?
Iced cafe latte?
Nada?
Ok, a Coca-Cola?
Zip?
Pepsi?......
Apologies. Having just logged onto the new laptop, opened my e-mail, Facebook, Twitter and this very blog by touching a fingerprint scanner next to the screen, I was just wondering what else it can do! As yet, despite being billed as an all singing all dancing machine by the salesman, it has neither sung nor danced. Although it has bluetoothed, touch-slated and done a hell of a lot of other impressive stuff!
Yes, finally back on line peoples!
You have been warned!
Sunday, 21 June 2009
Monday, 15 June 2009
London is a beautiful place, isn't it?
Very photogenic, especially at night. The romance of the South Bank in the evenings - Hungerford Bridge illuminated, the clang of a train running next to you bringing dreamers, commuters and pursuers of wonder to the city. The boats on the Thames, the Hot Dog vendors on every street corner, the over-sized ferris wheel (yet, there is neither enormous dodgem track or oversized Candy-floss van nearby, hence losing it's fairground appeal) - yes, there is nothing like London, especially in a film. Sadly, when I lived in London it was not so appealing as I rented a room in Harringey. The only time that's seen in the media is when children are dying due to lack of attention from social services, or there is another outbreak of small-pox due to lack of hygiene in a takeaway. Can't move for the TV outside broadcast units then. But never mind
Very photogenic, especially at night. The romance of the South Bank in the evenings - Hungerford Bridge illuminated, the clang of a train running next to you bringing dreamers, commuters and pursuers of wonder to the city. The boats on the Thames, the Hot Dog vendors on every street corner, the over-sized ferris wheel (yet, there is neither enormous dodgem track or oversized Candy-floss van nearby, hence losing it's fairground appeal) - yes, there is nothing like London, especially in a film. Sadly, when I lived in London it was not so appealing as I rented a room in Harringey. The only time that's seen in the media is when children are dying due to lack of attention from social services, or there is another outbreak of small-pox due to lack of hygiene in a takeaway. Can't move for the TV outside broadcast units then. But never mind
Cineworld! 800 screens nationwide in 74 cinemas, 5 of which are in London. From Aberdeen to Witney, there are but a few areas in the country untouched by one of these mighty playhouses. Last year, 45 million people went to their cinemas, earning them pre-tax profits of £284.5 million pounds. They do a deal where you can get a large popcorn and a large diet-coke for about £8.00 and an unlimited film card will set you back £13.50 per month. My nearest Cineworld cinema is in Eastbourne, about a 10 minute drive away, although there are also palaces of dreams in Brighton, Chichester, Crawley and Falkirk.
So, having established that the tourist-y parts of London are beautiful, especially in the movies, and that I have a Cineworld cinema on my doorstep, one would assume that in order to view a film starring such huge names as "Paul Haley" as "Elderly Man", "Amy Younger" as "Girl Number 2 at Wedding", "Emma Thompson" as "Kate Walker" and "Dustin Hoffman" as "Harvey Shine", set in the gorgeous city of London, one would not need to take a 60 mile round trip to the nearest cinema showing it! Yes, Cineworld is so devoted to helping new directors who have done a top quality British film made in Britain and benefitting the British film industry by having one performance per day for one week only in one cinema on the South Coast!
And this isn't the first time. Oh, no. "London to Brighton"? Hard-hitting major indie film about the escape of a young orphan after killing a paedophile? Nothing. Michael Caines stars in "Is Anybody There?", but only for three showings in Sheffield! What? One of the biggest film stars that Britain has ever produced and Cineworld give him three showings in Sheffield? That's like booking Metallica to do a turn down the local!
Anyway, another rant over with. Back to my lunch.
TTFN. Me.
P.S. Did you know an onion in sainsburys costs 15p?
Wednesday, 10 June 2009
random things
Captains' log, stardate whatever the hell.......
Day 4 of the Blogger project and still no interest.
Hmmm. Interesting.
Anyway... where was I?
Here. Yes. Just thought I'd use this blog for it's intended purpose rather than the deconstruction of song lyrics. None of you are probably wondering what I get up to on a day to day basis, so here we go with today.
Today I had a fight with the boiler. It all turned nasty when it refused to pay its' rent for the small cupboard upstairs that I allow it to live in. It's not a huge amount I charge it, just some hot water when required which, and let's be honest here, is its' main function in life. Not too much to ask one would think, in exchange for my amazing hospitality and a cupboard in a lovely house like this one. But not today. Today it got nasty. After its' adament refusal to provide me with some hot water for a bath, words were spoken. I'm not proud, but after questioning its' parentage things got physical. The police were called and arrested it for affray but couldn't really do much as it had plumbed itself into the gas and water system, thus rendering the threat of being taken down to the station useless. Eventually the whole thing went to court, the boiler didn't even turn up and was convicted in its' absence. The judge slapped an ASBO (anti-social boiler order) on it and it's not allowed within 100 metres of the property any more. Which is problematic to say the least as it's still in the cupboard, not providing hot water when I want it......
Aside from this frivolity, what else happened today? Woke up at 4am with the love of my life going to work. A little early, I hear no-one say, but then it's the only time I've really had to see her over the past couple of days. And even then I don't remember much of it as it was 4am and I was half asleep. Went back to bed, snoozed a little, woke up and discovered that I have received my first comment back at me on Twitter, which was lovely! I'm K_and_silent_m just incase nobody is interested. From the great Kevin Cecil, co-writer of such series as Black Books and Hyperdrive no less, not offering me a job but thanking me for informing him that I think he is a very funny man.
Wasted a few hours on there, watched some Omid Djalili from the planner (from ages back) then went to work. God, what a boring arse life I lead!
Anyway, talk soon. Bed is calling. 5 hours sleep tonight! Wa-hooo!!!
Love as always,
Me. xxx
P.S. Anyone know why Bill Bailey isn't visiting civilisation on this tour? Rather shunning us for the North! Which is a pity, really. Bought a trouser press for him to sign and everything........
Day 4 of the Blogger project and still no interest.
Hmmm. Interesting.
Anyway... where was I?
Here. Yes. Just thought I'd use this blog for it's intended purpose rather than the deconstruction of song lyrics. None of you are probably wondering what I get up to on a day to day basis, so here we go with today.
Today I had a fight with the boiler. It all turned nasty when it refused to pay its' rent for the small cupboard upstairs that I allow it to live in. It's not a huge amount I charge it, just some hot water when required which, and let's be honest here, is its' main function in life. Not too much to ask one would think, in exchange for my amazing hospitality and a cupboard in a lovely house like this one. But not today. Today it got nasty. After its' adament refusal to provide me with some hot water for a bath, words were spoken. I'm not proud, but after questioning its' parentage things got physical. The police were called and arrested it for affray but couldn't really do much as it had plumbed itself into the gas and water system, thus rendering the threat of being taken down to the station useless. Eventually the whole thing went to court, the boiler didn't even turn up and was convicted in its' absence. The judge slapped an ASBO (anti-social boiler order) on it and it's not allowed within 100 metres of the property any more. Which is problematic to say the least as it's still in the cupboard, not providing hot water when I want it......
Aside from this frivolity, what else happened today? Woke up at 4am with the love of my life going to work. A little early, I hear no-one say, but then it's the only time I've really had to see her over the past couple of days. And even then I don't remember much of it as it was 4am and I was half asleep. Went back to bed, snoozed a little, woke up and discovered that I have received my first comment back at me on Twitter, which was lovely! I'm K_and_silent_m just incase nobody is interested. From the great Kevin Cecil, co-writer of such series as Black Books and Hyperdrive no less, not offering me a job but thanking me for informing him that I think he is a very funny man.
Wasted a few hours on there, watched some Omid Djalili from the planner (from ages back) then went to work. God, what a boring arse life I lead!
Anyway, talk soon. Bed is calling. 5 hours sleep tonight! Wa-hooo!!!
Love as always,
Me. xxx
P.S. Anyone know why Bill Bailey isn't visiting civilisation on this tour? Rather shunning us for the North! Which is a pity, really. Bought a trouser press for him to sign and everything........
Sunday, 7 June 2009
A glimpse into my thought process (Warning - contents could be traumatic!)
How many roads must a man walk down
before you call him a man?
How can you answer a question like that without access to a few facts? More information is needed. Does the road need to be a set distance in order for it to be taken into account? For example, if a person (unsure whether he can be called a man yet) walked say 30 paces downs a road, then realised he's forgotten his wallet and turns back does that count? If so, can it count as two roads? What about footpaths? Do they count? Does he have to walk in the road, or does it still count even if he's on the pavement? And if not, is he insured to perform this feat? And if he is not yet a man, what is he called? Boy? What if he's 68 and just happened to have been born with no legs? Is he still a boy or can we count the rolling of his wheelchair? And if we're counting wheelchairs, then can we count bicycles? Ok, how about this......
How many roads, avenues, streets, drives, lanes, crescents, cul-de-sacs, motorways, cycleways, bus lanes, and other adopted or unadopted public and private highways must one travel down before other unspecified persons classifies you as a man?
Hello, by the way.
What do you mean I over-analyse things?
Just a thought.........
before you call him a man?
How can you answer a question like that without access to a few facts? More information is needed. Does the road need to be a set distance in order for it to be taken into account? For example, if a person (unsure whether he can be called a man yet) walked say 30 paces downs a road, then realised he's forgotten his wallet and turns back does that count? If so, can it count as two roads? What about footpaths? Do they count? Does he have to walk in the road, or does it still count even if he's on the pavement? And if not, is he insured to perform this feat? And if he is not yet a man, what is he called? Boy? What if he's 68 and just happened to have been born with no legs? Is he still a boy or can we count the rolling of his wheelchair? And if we're counting wheelchairs, then can we count bicycles? Ok, how about this......
How many roads, avenues, streets, drives, lanes, crescents, cul-de-sacs, motorways, cycleways, bus lanes, and other adopted or unadopted public and private highways must one travel down before other unspecified persons classifies you as a man?
Hello, by the way.
What do you mean I over-analyse things?
Just a thought.........
Saturday, 6 June 2009
Ok....
Wow.
This is rather good. Much like entering a room with no furniture, wall-art and a nice view of the park, this space is mine to fill however I choose.
Excellent.
Bleaaaaraggghhhyyyyyynerrrrgggggggyyyyyyfuuuullllherdersssss!!
Rather roomy really, isn't it?
Marvellous. Literary equivelent of riding-a-mountain-bike-round-the-parquet-floored-room-in-a-new-house-just-to-see-what-it's-like-as-you'll-never-have-room-to-do-it-again over with, I feel some introductions should be in order, along with some fascinating fact about my good (well, sometimes) self. It has to be stressed, I'm endeavouring to avoid the subjects of politics and religion for fear of offending, and the weather for fear of tedium. Big Brother will also not be discussed as it's dull.
Ready to unpack the first box? I think so. It's labelled "Miscelany" and looks as though it's been rolling round in the back of the lorry. Here we go...
Hello. I'm Mike. I'm a 30 year old from Eastbourne who drives a Honda Jazz and has a beard. It's fabulous, black and has a panoramic roof. (The Honda, that is. Not the beard. Although that would be amazing, wouldn't it? "Hi, like the beard? Slide this panel back and.... ta-da! Panoramic roof!" Not even Suralan Sugars' beard has that on it.) I adore films (have over 2000 DVDs) collect video games and consoles (have too many) and am desperately in love with the gorgeous, wonderful, tolerent love of my life. Kirsty. Where would I be without her? Who knows, and I don't want to think about it.
Whilst the British Armys' occupation is listed as "Iraq", mine is rather more mundane. I am a bus driver (I told you) and I would like to take this opportunity to say that I love my job. I would like to, but I'm not going to because that would be a lie so great that the flames from my pants would engulf me in an instant, thus saving on a cremation in later years I suppose but not really helping me now. Yes, I hate my job. I know, I should be grateful I have a job and I am. I just wish it wasn't this one.
I don't want to make this too long for fear of sending you to the land of nod, so thank you for your time and I hope to see you soon.
Nothing seems broken, so I think I'll replace the lid and unpack it properly later when it's not 1am on a Sunday. Where did that mountain bike go?
Love and peanuts,
Mike.
P.S. Did you know that the costume for the Teletubbie "Tinky-Winky" was over 10 feet high? Makes you think, doesn't it?
This is rather good. Much like entering a room with no furniture, wall-art and a nice view of the park, this space is mine to fill however I choose.
Excellent.
Bleaaaaraggghhhyyyyyynerrrrgggggggyyyyyyfuuuullllherdersssss!!
Rather roomy really, isn't it?
Marvellous. Literary equivelent of riding-a-mountain-bike-round-the-parquet-floored-room-in-a-new-house-just-to-see-what-it's-like-as-you'll-never-have-room-to-do-it-again over with, I feel some introductions should be in order, along with some fascinating fact about my good (well, sometimes) self. It has to be stressed, I'm endeavouring to avoid the subjects of politics and religion for fear of offending, and the weather for fear of tedium. Big Brother will also not be discussed as it's dull.
Ready to unpack the first box? I think so. It's labelled "Miscelany" and looks as though it's been rolling round in the back of the lorry. Here we go...
Hello. I'm Mike. I'm a 30 year old from Eastbourne who drives a Honda Jazz and has a beard. It's fabulous, black and has a panoramic roof. (The Honda, that is. Not the beard. Although that would be amazing, wouldn't it? "Hi, like the beard? Slide this panel back and.... ta-da! Panoramic roof!" Not even Suralan Sugars' beard has that on it.) I adore films (have over 2000 DVDs) collect video games and consoles (have too many) and am desperately in love with the gorgeous, wonderful, tolerent love of my life. Kirsty. Where would I be without her? Who knows, and I don't want to think about it.
Whilst the British Armys' occupation is listed as "Iraq", mine is rather more mundane. I am a bus driver (I told you) and I would like to take this opportunity to say that I love my job. I would like to, but I'm not going to because that would be a lie so great that the flames from my pants would engulf me in an instant, thus saving on a cremation in later years I suppose but not really helping me now. Yes, I hate my job. I know, I should be grateful I have a job and I am. I just wish it wasn't this one.
I don't want to make this too long for fear of sending you to the land of nod, so thank you for your time and I hope to see you soon.
Nothing seems broken, so I think I'll replace the lid and unpack it properly later when it's not 1am on a Sunday. Where did that mountain bike go?
Love and peanuts,
Mike.
P.S. Did you know that the costume for the Teletubbie "Tinky-Winky" was over 10 feet high? Makes you think, doesn't it?
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