In taking a break from thinking, something I do often these days, it was time for a random blog post about wandering round and see what new and exciting things were going on that ultimately doesn’t lead anywhere…

For starters it was the monthly protest against the scientologists in residence over in Tottenham Court Road:

Ah, isn’t it nice when people can get together dressed as Darth Vader and the guy from V for something to complain about a dead man’s make believe fantasy that not many people believe in which is currently getting sued in France for fraud? Hey, who am I to say anything, some people have a drink problem, some drink 170 coffees a day to make sure they don’t fall asleep, and these guys have found their hobby. Everybody’s happy!

And then it was over to Regent Street as they had closed most of it off to get people down for a taste of Spain.

Yes, for a brief time, you could wander round the area looking in various white tents with different things that Spain offers, such as a fashion show where all men were at the front wishing they could do something about the tight trouser situation they were now facing with the wives/girlfriends standing at the back looking annoyed.

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After another thrilling week of working many hours, crying over the empty hole that my bank account now sees fit to mock me with over and over again, and at one point, not even knowing what day it was to turn up at the cinema for Terminator: SallyJessy a week early, there was also something else which had come up as a topic was the fact I had lost all sense of adventure.

Now given previous fun and frolics that have both frightened and convicted people of arson in the past, I was shocked about this, but then given the definition of what exactly is a sense of adventure these days, it may not be far from the truth.

You see, what people say when they are adventurous now is: they go on holiday somewhere other than Blackpool. Is that really being adventurous, or is it just a fact that people have to go travelling, spend lots of cash and walk to a place, take pictures of it, and then come back to tell everyone else what little they did while in this magical theme park of fun, which I tend to equate to what the travel agents call: a city break.

Come on, surely being adventurous means doing something you don’t normally do or taking risks? Hell I take a risk to having a wash, I could melt you know, being made of 40% dirt and disease. But perhaps it all means you have to take massive risks, and not just ride along the tube hoping that no-one farts.

I guess that’s maybe the bigger picture and maybe a more fitting question to be answered; at what level can you say you are being “out there”, appearing in the X-Files, eating something with two colours in it, telling a woman they are fat….what exactly is enough of a adventure?

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And in another of these film reviews in quick succession, well quick enough considering all things, we find ourselves at another remake, another franchise, rather than left to history as it stood, Hollywood having ran out of ideas some many years ago, have been raping and pillaging like good little Vikings anything that may make some quick cash. And this is not the first time this type of thing has been remarked on within this digital writing ice fortress of doom, lest we forget the likes of Batman: The slightly off colour knight and Get Smart (by watching something else).

So now as we come galloping along to the big summer blockbuster film season filled with big actors with equally big salaries for doing the same thing 20 times as directed by other people (not that I’m bitter about such things), it’s time to remark upon the the cult hit:

Star Trek

Oh dear, we’re in for a bumpy ride. The film has received so much praise with the smallest amount of lament, so in essence the smartest thing to do right now is to say the film is the best thing since Klingon Blood Pie and wander off for some experiments involving the transporter system and some livestock.

But seeing as I have severe mental problems, I prefer to question a few things before we even get to Star Trek, something which perhaps I should have addressed with the last review.

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And in the distant past, the past where this film review was greatly promised and then disappeared, a great event occurred and lo, the people were happy, with some other people happy as they were able to get it on the Internet before we mere mortals viewed at the cinema. And let’s be fair they probably did the right thing downloading as they then saved the money for smack.

Now for the rest of us, sit back and cry along to the train wreak that was:

XXX-Men Orgasm: Wolverhampton

(The above image made me think of far too many captions, I had to stop after half an hour and move on…)

Hmm, not a overly good start to call a film a train wreck before you even start writing, but allow me to explain.

You see, Huge Jackiechan hasn’t really had a film by himself as the main fella since that film with Kate Beckinsale with the dodgy accent and really tight corset…what that film again, all I’m remembering is Kate…err…and the stage was really set to have a film dedicated to one of the best characters in the X-rated film trilogy, how he grew up to be a real boy, and then kick some arse or three in the process.

The trailer looked good enough, people looking angry and bitch-fighting, things exploding, some over-the-top oh my god music, and the premise of one man doing everything that clearly should real-life ever come into it, he would be dead before he had a chance to fart his plan for revenge out.

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Very confusing day today and one that has filled me with many questions about things, how to act and what to say, do, feel at various points. I suppose if nothing else, London does provide the odd day where nothing happens the way you expect, and then it comes that you actually look forward to tomorrow.

Love the feeling.

I suppose today being Sunday, it was a typically boring day, shot more things in Plants Vs. Zombies, a silly concept that is sweeping across those with far too much time on their hands, and bought some over priced shirts from Debbiehams.

So to take myself away from the annoyance that MPs expenses are out in the open, and instead of still wishing I could do the same, I have gone on the deep end: Internet Dating.

Yes it’s true, I signed up today in seeking out new lifeforms and new civilations, to boldy go where all those other people who failed to actually acheive normal bonding through normal interaction like other human beings.

Some say it was due to the Lord of Leisure’s previous failure which has brought him to this point, others say it’s the cabin fever getting to him. And then there is myself who says, bugger it, may as well, can do it as a little experiment to see if the things actually works. So for one month only, I am online, again in-between killing zombies with plants and trying it out. No more after that, and will report the findings back here.

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It’s 22:35 on a Saturday evening and today all I have been thinking about is loosing weight, spending money to do things and then wanting to go through the entire back catalogue of South Park.

Seems to be more honest than the MPs who have been stealing our taxes. Can I have a £2,500 home cinema via a tax rebate please? Because the establishment within the UK seems to have so much spare cash around to fund MPs “expenses” with a great many of them saying sorry for people finding out they have been taking the liberty for a good number of years.

Shame I never had the same chance to do the same as they have, I’d own half of Manchester as my “second home” before I got caught.

Suppose at least I got a very little rant out the way, perhaps I’ll do more tomorrow. Good night all!

Hello campers. Remember I said about writing at the weekend about Wolverhampton’s new film with Huge Jackman starring and also about the week in Reading. Well as with all good plans, it’s fallen into the toilet. It seems the very instant I get the crap together enough to achieve something of even the smallest success, the energy goes, the will is broken, and the bad man touches me in the wrong place again.

To make matters worse, sleep patterns are once again erratic, so for once I am going to attempt to go to bed early in the vain hope of sleeping a normal night’s sleep. Christ, this is how Fight Club started out….