Ok, it’s slightly misleading, it’s not about the Music festival which occurs only when the gods see fit to re-enact what happened to Noah’s Ark. I’m in Reading for the week, training away from the normal life to some degree that we all cry about.

Basically, I will return and write about the week away at the weekend, along with a brand new movie review, you know that little thing about the Wolfman and X mags….or have I got that confused with something else?

Now move along, you’re causing a draft.

Well campers, it’s been a strange week. A lot that was going on was all about work mainly which of course most people will suffer with that particular disease until we can all be like those people from WALL-E, or as we brits know them as: Americans.

But there were things worthy of note which also included waking up late each day to the sun beaming through the blinds like Scotty from Star Trek, and the weather has been lovely of late, but when all you are wanting to do is keep your eyes closed, anything which destroys that luxury will be viewed with the level of contempt only seen when a dog leaves a present on your foot.

There was also a Friday night out in Soho, but we’ll leave that confusing affair to a later paragraph which hopefully will allow me time to think of funny things to cast onto the white space. Otherwise, it’s back to the tried and tested sex jokes. So I’ll stick a picture about Soho, and carry on.

But to return back from the side step of the above writing, recently I haven’t been able to sleep properly. Perhaps it’s the guilty conscience of destroying another village in India, or maybe it’s just the sheer volume of traffic which passes my window at 6:20 in the morning. But now my nightly routines consist of playing WOW again, that soul destroying game where my communication turns into something you’d scrawl on a toilet wall using your own excrement.

In addition to that, it’s back to watching old shows and and then falling asleep to them, ready in time to wake up at 3am to switch off the TV. It’s become a kind of ritual this week, and I’m worried that this trend will eventually kill what’s left of my brain.

Saturday was a write-off again till about 4 in the afternoon due to the Friday Night that proceeded before and as I wrote in my cunningly leading third paragraph, it was jolly confusing why we wandered round Soho, not for the various naughty bars featuring women wearing clothes that refuse to stay on themselves.

It all started out pleasant enough, at a bar where we talked a little bit and headed on out to the evil place of naughty, where of all things, we ended just a very tiny bar where we had one drink, got bored and then we all split up for food. I guess the time I woke up has been all the proper sleep being missed catching up to me.

And then to turn the blog entry on it’s head once again about something so different, you wonder what was the point, Sunday evening brought about an interesting state of affairs in the world of Online Gaming. Or more accurately Left 4 Dead.

You see, Left 4 Dead has had some updates to it recently, one of which was a new Survival mode, in which you are certain to die, it’s just a question of how long it takes before you are overwhelmed for sheer numbers. Normal people call that the London Underground.

But it appears that most people on the Left 4 Dead servers are very upset if you’re not the world’s best at it. Today was the first time I had given the mode a go, along with a friend from Sunny Wales way, and we went onto a couple of maps, and at some point, a guy from one of those gaming clans out there, bugger knows there’s far too many to count, came on and started getting upset with the way I play.

Long story short, some written abuse back and he went. Some time later my friend was kicked off a public server by other people, who again seemed unhappy about dying early in a game mode designed to kill you. All in all, it seems that at the moment, there are quite a number of either kids or mentally starved for something more in life people who are playing at the moment, so perhaps it’s best left alone for the time being online unless all 4 slots for players are filled with people you know.

I guess that brings you all up to date. Time for traffic and weather, where you are.

The last couple of days have been rather odd, and not odd in a shouting at the wall because the voices tell you to do so kind of way.

Let me paint the picture of what happened both days; I woke up in the morning, checked the old crackberry for mails from people wanting to know why everything wasn’t done yesterday, and proceeded to eat the honey oat goodness that is breakfast while tutting away at how bad the world was before going out to work.

It was a sunny day for walking, absolutely the ideal weather for walking around London town, and I had wandered down to Waterloo for where I currently reside and proceeded to work away on various naughty things like the crossword and making too many cups of tea.

But there was something amiss, for all the while there was a slow anger building up and I was just feeling overly annoyed to the point I was muttering under my breath all the way back home. I had watched some bad telly, and then went to bed with some sticky things in my ears to block all naughty from the outside world (in case you’re wondering it’s noisy where I live, and not due to gunshots)

Now, come to today, the exact same things were happening, but this time, all happy and smiley without the thoughts of destruction and doom which plagued me most of the day before. It was the most confusing contrast I’ve ever had happen to me, one day; Mike Douglas, Falling Down, about to lose it, and today, Barney the dinosaur, even to the point of enjoying ice cream by the river.

How the hell can this possibly happen? I cannot explain it at all. Surely same things happening, the feelings would remain the same? Dude, I’m messed up.

And with a welcome return for the first time in many many many months of nothing about the film world filling this site, we now return to our regular bile filled hatred of all those who dare to try to be more famous than James Earl Jones.

Let the Right One In

A rather odd choice given all the other films which have graced the screen since the last written cinematic onslaught. I had asked what it was, I was told it was a Swedish Vampire Horror film.

Now just read that line back to yourself.

Swedish Vampire Horror….from the same country that brought us cheap furniture that collapses owing to missing screws and former England football coach Sven Goran Erikson, who is also missing a few screws, we now get this cinematic piece which won an award or something in Scotland, though being honest, KFC wins awards in Scotland for being luxury food.

And it was showing in an arty cinema too.

Right there and then it should have been enough to put me off, as being honest you’ve all seen me and heard me talk, you know that putting me in a situation that requires a beret, gin in one hand while talking in poems about dishwashers and how this film made all human life into butterflys and….I don’t know, I lapse into a coma when confronted with the horror of people talking about sh*t no-one understands or even cares about.

Which actually means I should be in a coma when reading this crap back through to put in spelling mistakes….hmm, a paradox.

But back to the film in any case and coupled with my comrades in arms, we made for the screen to take our seats.

All was calm until the original name for the film came on the screen: Låt den rätte komma in. I have no idea why, but I felt compelled at this point to say “Achtung, ze prisoners are escaping!” which has nothing to do with anything going on, but we couldn’t stop laughing for 10 minutes afterward, which pretty much set the tone of what was to come.

So what’s it all about then eh? Well that’s the problem with all reviews, they have to give some things away in order to give the reader a clue about it so SPOILERS are seen from here on for the rest of the entry:

A young chap, Oskar Schindler living in Ikealand gets bullied a lot, and wants to do naughty things to the little effing so and so’s who are making him jolly upset, so spends quite a lot of time with knifes.

A girl and old man move into the neighbourhood, and then one night when the boy is playing with his knife, they meet. Out pops a Rubik’s cube, it gets solved and after a while the boy and girl sees each other more and more. Arrrrrr. But wait, there’s lies, treachery and deceit afoot.

You see, the old man kills people for the tomato juice in their bodies, and seems to be pretty crap at the job as he gets caught a lot by dogs, and well those pesky kids from Scooby Doo. Fails to escape, burns his face and then dies falling out of a window from lack of blood. Not very nice.

More people are bitten, Oskar knows the girls a vampire and afterwards all manners of naughty happens.

The end.

Well that’s the very very short and largely crappy version, Really But if you took away the premise of the vampire part, it was actually a tale of childhood, about growing up, quite well written and acted out. Just with bits of chewing throats here and there.

Oskar the badly stereotypical blonde boy, was well played as a boy who was innocent in oh so many ways, and didn’t know what to do about his tormentors at school in the beginning and at the end just content with all that had happened.

And there were a few times, when he was happy, trying to get fit to stop the bullies and being just a child, that I almost felt a tear come to my eye. No bull, this was heart felt stuff, and an innocence that was lost many years ago was just something I had never expected to see. I wanna be 10 again!

Eli, The girl who was the vampire, played by Lina Leandersson, you didn’t feel hate for her as she chomped down on a couple of crazy people here and there, it was something she had to do to survive. Oskar and Eli were both loners who felt good around each other and a loving relationship had started, though some loving parts like when they were in bed…..err…am I going on the sex offenders register? (again)

The old man, who cared and killed for the girl, you didn’t really understand what he was until towards the end of the film and it all made sense and left you to fill the gaps in your head, something which not that many films do these days. And the film never strayed away from the fact that people were getting killed, with the clues falling into place for one man who lost his best friend and lady to Eli.

The film was subtitled so you had to pay attention to the words at the bottom (shame there wasn’t a fella doing the funky chicken dance for the deaf people, what is it, signage, seine, something) and it was here you could see there were a few funny lines, which kept you wanting to watch more.

Now with most horror films, you’d expect 5000 gallons of blood to be sprayed everywhere and £345934 billion pounds spent on effects. Not so with this film, it wasn’t done as out and out gore, though some bits aren’t exactly suitable for the Disney Channel.

The film’s pace is rather slow, slow to the point that one of my friends got his blackberry out and started looking at naughty pictures, but it seem that the film is more real as a result. Well real, until the point with the cats. Now it appears Cats don’t like Vampires. There was a lady slowly turning into one, and then she showed up at an apartment filled with the little gits. What do you think happened?

I can do better than say it, thanks to the gift of Youtube:

Yep, we laughed too. Come on, I wanted a cat to get thrown at the window and then fall slowly down the window like in a cartoon. Best funny moment of 2009 so far for me!

But come on, and I can’t stress the following point enough:

I know it’s an arty foreign film, but really, did we have to see a 12 year old vampire girl’s rude part?The feeling we all got when that appeared was kind of like what the audience felt at the cinema in Fight Club when Brad Pitt spliced in a frame of porn into a family film, we saw it but we weren’t sure if we should cry. And being honest, it looked like the cats had got to her too if you get where this is going. Yes you can all go ahead and vomit now.

So I suppose what started out as a viewing of a “arty foreign thing” did actually become something to watch with intent. From the films poster and the description above, you’d think it was a cheesy b-movie that was made on a budget of £6 and a pot of jam, with someone vomiting on paper to make the script.

Far from it in fact, it was a film well worth watching for those precious moments and if you do pay attention, the film rewards you. A surprising choice, but on this occasion, a good one.

And the longest ever running review of any year comes to a very undramatic close, and I suppose it’s on account of next to nothing been written on these old pages like the month beforehand, but don’t think that nothing was happening. In fact this was the month my first ever commercial writing gig took off for Computer Weekly, which was about deploying Office 2007 with a logon script and various other helpful tools such as the Office Customisation tool.

You can still read it all here: Deployment Diary and of course as I maintained on the last entry, if there are any questions about the process, please send us an email, or leave comments all over the place. But please don’t ask me about ladies’ naughty bits, I got in trouble enough the last time!

But what had happened before was that I came down with the actual flu and it got so bad, that I did stay home for the one day, though I was classed as “Working from Home” as far as everyone else was concerned and thus despite sneezing and sweating over various devices, I was answering questions like no-one’s business. Hmm, going against the Lord of Leisure’s duties is a violation of something I’m sure.

Something which I wrote about at the time which has reared it’s head in terms of content was that I don’t keep in touch with anyone any more. And as it goes now here in April 2009 at least it’s not fully right.

When I was back in sunny Shropshire, I spent all sorts of time on the phone to various warlords arranging the next civil war in Africa, or simply asking if anyone was bored and wanted to go somewhere and cause another traffic accident.

But since being down in London, I have contacted only three people regularly and they are all from my family. Others of course have been left in the dust, bringing up concern by well, three people in Manchester and two in Shrewsbury.

Don’t get me wrong of course, there have been others which have talked to me in the meantime as I happened to have left MSN or Steam online, but aside from that, it appears everyone else has been perfectly fine in the lack of communication.

But that is the very essence of Human nature. Unless you have a vestured interest in someone, you only give them as long as you have to if they are around you. If they are not there in front of you on a regular basis, then after about 5 minutes, you get bored very easily and start playing with that new yo-yo you were saving for a special occasion.

We naturally are very lazy creatures, and being the Lord of Leisure, I have immense expertise in this field and can spot a lazy bastard at 3 paces, because further than that and that means I have to strain myself to look and that goes against the entire ethos of being “leisurely.”

That being said, I haven’t been as active as I should have been and to that end that was more the reason why behind the Twitter feed came to be added to practically everything that I have credentials for, Facebook, the blog and soon the washing machine so you can be updated as to when the spin cycle starts. It was kind of a get out of having to any real work in terms of writing as it’s 160 characters to use and you can sum up your mood very quickly.

I have even started trying to write to various people in order to try and appease others that I’m still technically alive. I do say technically because the time goes on work, some now semi-professional blogging for a computing publication for at least another week providing they don’t get annoyed with the jokes about special people I’ve got lined up, the gaming podcasts for Eggmen have started becoming more regular and the last thing is frankly being leisurely.

Not an awful lot else actually comes up, except maybe when there is washing to put in and maybe some ironing, but that’s what Sundays are for, because there’s bugger all else to do. Well bugger all else around the UK the majority of time, however being in London you can’t really say that. There are tons to do every day if you want to look around, sometimes even for free in the case of museums where if you have trouble sleeping, they’ll sort you out a treat.

Problem is, I really don’t want to. I really don’t want to trudge around the streets of London to find things to do along with thousands of other nutters considering it’s that time of year where people buy tat for loved ones they hate, when I’m perfectly happy at home warming my cockles (perhaps too much) which drinking some more Magners cider and watching Top Gear. In some ways that now makes me the most boring person next to a corpse, and some would argue the corpse moves more.

Some more reflections took place about life being work oriented and the fact that the credit crunch has done much to knock people in many respects. Don’t want to spend any money, go anywhere, do anything, just in case there are further bad times to be had. People are being more reserved and well, I know you could argue: About time. We’ve had it good for far too long and maybe it’s good that we all realise there are consequences to our actions.

But there is another side which I failed to consider: fear. No-one’s spending, which buggers the politicians’ plans over, which means less money going into companies back pockets and because they answer to shareholders, they have to give dividends regardless, which means people are sacked to keep the margins nice, which means less people spending, which after a cycle of all this means things are worse. It’s Groundhog Day without Andie McDowell,which actually is not a bad thing but the point is, that is where we are at now.

And now it’s the fear of losing everything which is now driving us all to work far more than we should. Thing is, now it’s expected of us to do far more normally. What happens when the workload becomes too much for too little?

Here in April 2009, that fact has not changed really. Oh sure we had the G-Wizz 200 thing in London which would magically make it all better and we could all go out to play again, but all in all the situation out in the world is pretty much the same. But with the Cheshire cat that is Obama on the case with everything having been elected President in December 2008 with a all-nighter broadcast of the event being watched by literally people, could he come the rescue later on?

Well no, but bless his little cotton socks for trying anyway. The market is sorting itself out at a speed only the city boys will be happy with and the money which continues to be injected in, some of it now imaginary money from Lalaland actually has made little difference.

And actually that now wraps it all up, because the review of the year that was 2008 actually began in December 2008, so with the total time taken to cobble together material to describe the year taking a grand total of 4 months to write in-between working, sleeping and far too much eating, it appears my title of Lord of Leisure is assured for 2009 and many years to come. From here on out campers, it’s all new material….oh f**k, that means I have to think again.

With the ftp back up and working at long last and finally having plucked up enough energy to lift the leisurely head from it’s slumber, it’s just about time we remarked on the full on trip that was Spain, which included to some working, some walking and the KKK.

Yes, you read that right. I wrote the KKK. Those naughty people who scare others by dressing up as ghosts…err…That’s about as much as I know about them to tell the truth, but before we get old Shaggy from Scooby Doo shouting Zonks and legging it down the corridor with the repeating background, allow me to explain why they were all about at this time while I was over there.

You see, it was all to do with the Spanish customs of Easter, in which they have jolly old buddy Christ looking upset being carried around along with other things in streets up and down the land, and accompanying them are the KKK. Why I haven’t fully grasped this, but I’ll be damned if I was not meant to say anything as they walked past as I used my manly powers to destroy an ice cream cone. It’s a great honour to be one of them as it goes from what the locals told me. They even have action figures….look here if you don’t believe me!

As you can see there are a number of versions, with the new Spiderman version coming to the deep south soon. But surely if we’re going to celebrate the fact that Jesus did some magic tricks and was able to poke stuff through his hands afterwards, we need something new and exciting and something which would make us praise the lord even more; Jesus Cake.

Act now and you get a free KKK lolly. But all in all it was a strange sight to behold and also you gain insights in just how religious the Spanish truly are. Even in the many public houses you went into, there was a picture of our lord Vader, I mean Jesus looking jolly upset, perhaps just to remind everyone the dangers of drinking or something, to be honest I have no idea.

I suppose that it would be an understatement to remark on the wonderful weather and some of the views I got to see away from the hustle and bustle that is the root of all evil. Just a lot of things seemed simple in comparison and not as much to worry about, despite the fact that I was in contact with Work for a bit of the time, various questions coming up from a couple of people and also it was surprising what broke while I was out.

Apparently there is now a program to clone me to ensure 24×7 availability of my services….Mind you, the thought of two of me is enough to induce heart attacks in most people I know. Rest assured, nature would not allow such an abomination to survive.

But in the more remote places I did get the chance at least to wander round, and survey all that I could see, all while getting my face and arms burnt with just a few minutes exposure to the big shiny shiny in the sky;

The Landscape was fantastic and some of the olive groves went on for miles and miles. Strangely I feel compelled to talk about the motorways out of the cities, which were all but clear every day of the week, with only Serville amounting to the level of traffic we expect in London, but I suspect it was bad because no-one knew where they were going. Suppose it’s what you get when you don’t take a map and all you wanted to was drive to Tesco.

The weekend did bring a return to the Costalotofmoney or little Britain as it’s better known to regular readers of Ooh Sometimes, and it was quite nice down there too with some Canadians running around with excess energy to hip hop bollocks, it almost made my eyes bleed, but there was something else to note;

In the picture above, do you see anyone about?

No it’s not a “Where’s Wally?”, it’s just a illustration of the fact that there was next to no-one there. At this time of year, you expect to see a huge influx of people out and about all vomiting before 10am after 3 rounds of English breakfast and 10 gallons of vodka.

But it seems that the poor exchange rate of the pound to the Euro and other economic circumstances have indeed taken it’s toll on the tourist industry with rarely a soul in sight. Most of the places had closed their doors, with the rest operating minimal opening hours and only then a handful remained open all day thanks to the single stag doo that had wandered through all demanding cowboy hats and some haggis.

There were other pictures taken in between other work but alas they shall remain buried along with the Blue Peter Time Capsule filled with 100% pure cocaine and a limited edition copy of playboy from 1978. Though there was some time spent around a church at the top of hill to see the landscape, and hanging around like the locals, though of course, My Spanish only extends to the noise: ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, which must be made before we speak. Go and practise, then we shall see if you’ve made the the effort.

I suppose the real shock was when I came back to Broken Britain at 3am on the Wednesday, to then climb aboard the National express to Victoria and then find a bus which came close to home. The bus ride of course, made it perfectly clear what I had come back to.

First of there were 17 chavs all out of their tiny minds on cola who proceeded to make the rest of us miserable by arguing with the bus driver about why he couldn’t take them home to Watford, then after they got off, a huge black woman got on sobbing away about god knows what and proceeded to ask people for change, and finally to add to the mix, a group of very very load American women got on and proceeded to talk about things which only should get talked about on Adult channels.

And early in the morning, despite the fact I was asleep and had the day off, work rang.

Welcome back indeed.

Instead of writing about the delights of Spain, and furnishing you all with limited numbers of pictures from the time, it appears that the FTP server where I can upload said images is down so with that in mind and in keeping with wanting to get back into the swing of things, here’s the review of November 2008.

I ate, slept, worked and everything was status quo.

Thus ends the post remarking on November 2008. Thanks for coming, leave tips at the door.

errr….

What do you mean I can’t just write that? Ok then, here goes…

I went to a gaming expo in the East End of London, playing a lot of new shiny games before they were released to the general public, met up with some friends from the Gamers With Jobs website, and also talked a load of rubbish with one of Eurogamer’s Journalists about breaking into a bank.

No wait, I meant the industry. I had pictures from that event which I never uploaded to the blog which are now making their debut for the first time here in this post and remarked about some of the great games on show at the time such as Fallout 3, the PC version of Braid, which has only just made it to PC recently, and the greatest button mashing contest of all time: Street Fighter 4, which even now, I’m still waiting to show up on the PC like those b*****ds at Capcom promised. COME ON, GET ON WITH IT!

The place was wall to wall with Plasma screens, xbox 360s and PS3s, enough to make your eyes bleed with envy and also using more electric than Zimbabwe, then again there was also more food than there is in Zimbabwe at the counter….eep.

All the forthcoming games were being previewed, and I must admit, getting my hands on Fallout 3 before the rest of the UK at the time was a good little feeling, even if the fecking game controllers annoy me because I can’t steer with them.

Upstairs, there was the food place, and a huge area dedicated to Games recuritment. If you knew how to do complicated things, then that was the place for you to go. Shame the most creative thing I’d done recently was sprayed over all the toilet walls. You’d think, I can push buttons, I can do what they do.

But when you say to them, you’re a jack of all trades server support person, you were looked on as though you’d handed them a severed hand in a paper bag. I cried for litterally seconds before playing Fable 2. I would have had a go in the FarCry 2 tournament that was going on in the same area, but alas, my poor performance with a joypad told me “Just walk away…pretend you’re still good at something else. Take up gardening instead.”

There was a few things outside the expo entrance, such as the Ubisoft caravan thing, where to be honest at the time, the only thing to play that was of any interest what so ever was Prince of Persia, something my good friend James on Eggmen.co.uk is a firm fan of, but the time, I had the overwhelming sense of: Right, done that, let’s move on.

But there is one picture from the gaming expo I have to post:

I had promised oh so long ago to post this picture up as it showed a real life size of tank from something which I can’t remember, but it was seeing the look of glee on my comrade’s face, it had to be taken for record.

There was a period of non-stop working which followed, of which I cannot remember for love or money what the hell happened. I did remark at the time this turn of events left thousands of people wondering what else was to do after Russel Brand and Mr Woss left naughty answer machine messages. Then I saw who they were talking about and well….when a girl works for a troops called demon sluts or whatever the hell it was at the time, you kind of think: Fair enough. Carry on, I’ll go put the kettle on.

The Mighty Boosh were on in Birmingham, who were on top form as it went, and because they were at the NIA, which as we all know is next to the nexus known as “Broad Street”, the place where sexy people dance, drink and then stick things in various places are known to be, a little road trip was executed where the fear of dancing on one’s own like a retarded monkey attached to a live 200v battery was left aside.

A disturbing revelation was had when ladies of the evening chose my company over that of fitter men because I had hair and didn’t look like I would chase after cars. The first time looking like an out patient came in handy. Dear god I hope there are more otherwise I’ll cry the tears of jellybeans….

Added to that I recall that entire weekend was also left worrying about various Windows Clusters at work as they had gone belly up and everyone was getting threatened with various lumps of cheese or something to make it all better. Even had gone in after arriving back in London to work for an additional few hours, which just shows one of three things:

1) How much I loved the work
2) I was in much fear for my job due to the finger wagging which had taken place.
3) (And I suspect this is the real reason) I really was that sad and had nothing better to do.

Now a small worthwhile note while we dilly dilly in the past was the meeting with Jamie Bamber, the man who played Lee Adama in the recent revamp of Battlestar Galatica. He was shooting Law and Order: London with Bradley Walsh by Holborn Tube Station of all places, and after standing there like an idiot for 10 seconds, we started having a nice chat. All I can say is, the man is very friendly and after having watched a few episodes of the series on ITV, let’s say he hasn’t disappointed.

November was also the month I had discovered the evil that is Twitter, which even to this day I still use as a way of getting out of writing more meaningful blog entries. Mind you, there are some interesting people on there like the few writers I discovered thanks to the guys over at Gamers with Jobs and to them I say this: Hello.

Let’s see, Left 4 Dead came out and it was good. To this day though, I still haven’t played it online… and I really can’t remember anything else from November as it goes. Seriously, once again I think it was the period where the writing was suffering greatly from lack of updates and I think the inclanation to create worthwhile material had been buried along with my sense of smell. Maybe they will uncover who buried them in an episode of Law and Order: UK?

So there we are. A bit more of November 2008, now edited with funky pictures to make it look more interesting than it actually was. Night ya’ll!

First off, on behalf of Buddy Christ, Happy Easter. May your eggs be of chocolate goodness as opposed to the farty bitterness most eggs leave you with.

Now to continue the epic tales told on this digital tome, a few days have passed since the post that signified the return of the Lord of Leisure to British shores and after a pretty hard day at work, where many things occurred including voice over reading for radio ads concerning GoToMyPC which didn’t have a happy ending but you never know, something else may turn up. Mind you, if people did start hearing my voice again, I suspect people would claw their heads, asking for the pain to stop.

Forgive the lack of updates in the past few days, but it appears that since Thursday, after said busy day at work, which also involved an office move and a very very entertaining night out on the town with a few people from work and meeting some interesting folk who were interesting dancers who seemed to fight a losing battle with Gravity, I have been filled with the sense of “Meh”, that mostly costly time disease where you really do not feel like doing anything at all. For Friday and Saturday for instance, the days became filled with eating questionable “food”, wandering around in my underpants and watching various TV shows from the past with the odd break in the mix given by the 1998 game Starcraft. Why that game and not any others from the vast selection of DVDs at my command, I could not say.

Due to the state of play I guess, there’s no point in going out. It seems that with the sights that tourists love to see accessible all the time as you see fit, most people are themselves choosing to stay in or visit friends in faraway places, the need to go out has basically wandered off and as we speak, is at a bar throwing up and throwing things at passersby. I did wonder about whether or not this was simply due to the fact that I had come back from sunny climbs, where I didn’t have to worry about anyone braking anything or having to wake up properly in the morning ready to rush off to fall asleep at someone else’s pleasure.

Perhaps time is required to return to the old ways, after all, having the oppotunity to do different things away from the norm throws you all out of whack like something complicated explained on Star Trek. Maybe things are going back to the way it was as I did venture out today for Easter Sunday and perhaps in some silly way, London did it’s best to show it’s not all bad.

All the shops were actually closed for the first time since Christmas Day, and I actually saw it this time. It was actually rather comforting to know that the majority of people working for the retail evil empire will get a day off for a change, and it was fun to walk down the strand where normally traffic would occupy the roads. Even the weird rollerblading crews wandering around for some….reason and the Sri Lanka protester people who I think didn’t get any Easter eggs as opposed to hoping naughty things stop were all out to ensure that it was a day not to forget.

I shall return soon with some more waffle, perhaps in time something more, well, funny. Or at the least, more entertaining than droning on about very little. Maybe with pretty pictures and a “Join the Dots” puzzle.

As you may have guessed from the twittering, I did return last night on the easy flight o fun to London, just not at a pleasent time of the day to be exact: 3am. It’s what you pay for I guess, and once again My fear of flying came bounding along like a newborn puppy, ready to feed on the milk of thoughts which occured in my mind any time there was slight turbulance. Oh come on, you’re stuck in a flying baked bean tin for hours, and you’re the only non-terrorist not trying to light his boots on fire.

It’s been a fun week despite not being fully filled with lying around on my arse, but there were some really bizzare things I did see and over the weekend I will be sharing them with you and possibly opening myself up to yet more lawsuits and restraining orders by stating outragous things about, Oh I don’t know…women and them not knowing their place or something. You know the type of stuff to set certain types off these days, it’s always good fun!

In the meantime It appears that lack of sleep from the night before has caught up with me and my inclunation of writing has died along with my sense of smell, the pizza left in the fridge while I was away and also any way of ending sentences properly….err….

As you will have read from the twitter feed (granted, what little has been twittered) I am in the sunnier climbs of Spain for a short time and Normal service hopefully will resume come this wednesday, where I shall reveal a mere starters serving of the sights of the past week and explain about Jesus cake. The picture makes you wonder to as it goes, but all shall be revealed then.

It´s seemingly the best time to be away from Britain, what with the G20 causing naughty in London, people are hugely depressed and the holes we find ourselves in get ever deeper. And that´s only after betting everything on the Grand National later on today.

In the meantime, ponder what must be pondered, eat what must be eaten, and actually, can someone help my poor burning arms? Oww doesn´t even come close to describing them right now. Guess this is what I get for not being used to the sun after all this time.

So for now, we sign off and go in search of various creams. One of them happens to be made of ice.