Thursday 24 February 2005
And finally....
... this made me furious lastnight. I couldn't peel my eyes away from the news. Blair and a couple of his goons effectively prepared the statement on the "legality" of waging war on Iraq. The end does not justify the means, but this (for me, at least) is the straw that breaks the camel's back. I will not be voting Labour in the this year's general election. Fact. I can't begin to rant enough about this, so I'm not going to. It's the transparently deceitful end to a campaign of transparent deceit that began early in 2002. It would be sleight of hand, except that we saw all the hands moving... And it wasn't very slick. Just patronising. Get this country a real government, and I'm not talking the pantomime Tories, either!
One week left of being 27
Not much else to say on that, is there? Hardly feels like I left Belfast nearly three years ago, but there we are. Life can be pretty good here, and I've got a lot of folk around to thank for that. More on this later, maybe.
End of a great literary figure
Meant to post this a couple of days ago: the wildcat that is Dr Hunter S. Thompson is dead. BBC is carrying his obit here. I'd like to say Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas changed my life, but it didn't. But it did leave a major impression on my thinking and my attitude to life. Probably only as part of a cocktail of influences I knew in my early university years, but it was a really enjoyable read. It's coloured my impressions and expectations of Las Vegas, although the modern reality sounds a lot different from talking to friends who've been there. Rambling now...
I don't know why I'm not suprised. I hate suicides. They always leave me feeling a bit shredded. But it seems fitting that he did it his own way. The man wasn't shy of brandishing a gun, that's for sure!
I'll eventually get around to reading "... on the Campaign Trail"....
I don't know why I'm not suprised. I hate suicides. They always leave me feeling a bit shredded. But it seems fitting that he did it his own way. The man wasn't shy of brandishing a gun, that's for sure!
I'll eventually get around to reading "... on the Campaign Trail"....
Friday 18 February 2005
Stupid life...
but quite funny a lot of the time...! All began with the submission of the NAM abstract (major sigh of relief there, once I had the car back) on Monday night. Got a coffee thing fer the orifice as well — �12.99; HiThisIsWes! — By Tuesday, then, I was just looking forward to some entirely work-free time off. Which I duly began by having a massive lie-in on Wednesday! Cracking. So after wandering down to the shops to get the paper and some milk, had a traditional "brunch" (get me, etc.) and then dandered into town to get:
And popped up to Salvatore's to get a timely hurcut, although forewent the customary coffee shop experience as I was starting to suspect I'd spent far too long taking my time.
Back up to Aggy, then, and a quick shar before heading for the train. Dozed on the way up, then spent an indorinately long time waiting for the Bakerloo line train to Oxford Circarse. But got to the Big One in time for the last half-hour in the Shiny New Studio! But I didn't see the desks move up and down. That's something to look forward to later in my life, I feel. Also encountered 'Zippa' — he's a very nice man —. Who made me laugh "She's just Allanah Miles for the Noughties, isn't she?". Very weird, that changeover procedure, but very well done...
So, Hannah, meself, Richard and Neil are all clearly and firmly in the mood for a liddle drink, Mr M's got to go off to Kent to judge some teenage deejaying competition. Obviously. But Sperm is awaiting us in reception. Then Hannah flags down a bleck texi and off we go to Kensington for a very nice meal in Maggie Jones's via a wee pub detour first. And as we walked in, I strode straight past Daniel Beddingfield's table. No idea he was there until later. But Sperm then hears him singing in the toilet downstairs. That's got to be a surreal experience..
Anyway, the craic at the meal was NINETY altogether, and we each consumed 2/3 of a magnum of wine (red in my case, obviously, leaving some very nice stains on my teeth the next day). I had a fantastic time, so thanks to Hannah for organising the whole show, as it was the complete antidote to the rubbish depression of the last few weeks! So �50 a head felt well worth it. Although the celery and stilton at the end was probably a stupid — some might even say drunken — manoeuvre on my part. Everyone was on fine form, the Joe Pasquale thing had me in stitches, and Sperm proceeded to get drunker and drunker, in a shock move. He even had a bit of Physics Buddy envy when I started talking about some random astro craic with Hannah, but I allayed his fears.
Anyway, the night had to end eventually as everyone else had to work the next day. Neilo had ordered an Addison-Lee to get us back to Charlton, despite a clueless Mr F vocally slagging them off as Neil was trying to book! Ha-ha! Mr M had got stuck in Kent and couldn't make it back in time, which was a shame, but saw him lastnight in more traditional circumstances (i.e. a pub). The taxi waited on us for quite a while, but in fairness he didn't charge us extra, and the whole thing only came to �30 to get all the way across London. In comfort! Doing that again...
Next day, and I rouse meself about 6:30. I know this, because a) I felt fine; b) I calculated that I must therefore still be drunk; c) I texted Neil to point this out. I then fell back to sleep for a couple of hours until he padded downstairs to wake me and donate the keys to the flat. Meanwhile I texted Sperm to see if he was still on fer lunch, and had a couple of hours more bed-rest until the appointed meeting at Goodge Street (one of the few tube stations that I actually know!). After I killed time in Caffè Nero, wandered over to his place, and met some of the staff who've to put up with him. Meal in Thai Metro — 2 quotes I quite like from this: 1) "He's not from the city"; 2) "Red curry, green curry... Let's face it: you're not going to know the difference, are you?" Cheeky cnut. — and then we parted ways before alcohol became involved: "I can't go back to work drunk from lunch on my first day back!". Until 5:30, obviously.
I then spent an extremely pleasurable afternoon doing something cultural (National Portrait Gallery; very big) and then met Mr F back at his orifice for to decide on a drinking establishment. Imagine no-one's surprise at us texting to say we were in the Green Man...
So we meet some people that Fraser recognises — a plugger, a Big One staffer, and some associated heads (and that's where the second half of the visit starts to formulate an interesting twist, but I'll come back to that). By chance or by design, we're soon joined by Emlyn (who's off like meself) who has a pass for the night, and clearly fully intends to use it. Then Neilo escapes to join us, while "Posh & Becks" (Emlyn quote) go off to get a tan. They presently join us, although Mr M's accelerator treatment seems to have been set to "11", as he comes in with a hoody over his head to hide the slightly slapped-face redness which ensued. Was all fine in the end, though, especially as a member of the bar staff, in a moment of comedy inspiration, came over with
a bottle of after sun for him! What a cnut... Anyway, a brief mutiny ensues (not going to go into that here) over in the corner while I'm chatting away to the plugger, his mate, and Mr F. Disappointingly, "GAK", as Channel Five abbreviate the team name to, are not the ones playing in white. That's "MID". And I get on my high horse and denounce "minority in astronomy" groups as pointless, thinking that some version for us deviants — Astropoofs? — would serve no purpose. In a moment of relative quiet, I start chatting again to this guy's mate, and we're getting along grand, but no more so than the usual craic in a pub. I investigate the last train to Gilferd (i.e. the one that doesn't end at Portsmouth, with me drunk, asleep and on it), and himself (this was a hint, I later realised) and Mr F pour scorn on my plans to try and catch it. When I realised that it was 9:35, and I was actually having ninety craic, I saw the logic in their arguments.
Right, so the mutiny in the Green Man is soon over, and meself and Neilo are once again nattering away, and then people start filtering away until it's just meself, the plugger, his mate (who's been looking at one of the lords, a lot), Laura (now depressed) Mr M, Mr F, Comedy Emlyn and Neilo. We're there till the very last seconds of the opening hours, then the poor young lady eventually wins out, and we head on, only to divert to a place called Mash. New to me, but with opening hours till 2, I'll be going back there! In we go, find a table, drunkenly drag some chairs to it, and carry on the carry on. At this stage, Sperm and I have been drinking since 6 o'clock, and the effects are being properly felt. I have a wee chat (not a big chat, although wheels are now in motion) with Mr M, and we compare notes on one of the group. Yes, he's a lord. And I know this, because within the two hours, we're there, he's propositioned me! Caught me completely off-guard, but is really keen for me to go back to his hotel! Clearly, I was oblivious to the fact that this guy's probably spent the last few hours chatting me up. And then I reacted in a drunken panicky way, declining him several times, and then saying something which — with immediate hindsight — is awful because it's so patronising. Before Christmas, JPD warned me that "you will meet a lot of bastards, but ultimately it's worth it", but at that point, I tell you, I'm feeling like one of the "bastards". Rubbish... So I'm actually quite looking forward to chucking-out time. Thence to the bus stop, via a Macky D's on Oxford Street. I haven't had a McDonald's in over a year, but this is not the reason it takes me a while to order anything coherent. Think I had a chicken fillet burger (or whatever McName they've given it), while Neilo orders a box of chicken nuggets as a side-order to whatever else he's got. The mountain of accumulated detritus on the luggage shelf on the bus was impressive as we alighted at the Charlton. "Drive the Bus!" got several rattles... Hahaaa...
By this morning, bearing in mind I'd had some gin'n'juice in the house on Tuesday night, I'd been drunk for several days. And I hadn't changed clothes since Wednesday evening. And smelt of booze, in all likelihood. Well done everybody.
(A couple of days' holiday. Honestly... Who was I trying to kid with the portrait gallery thing?)
Thanks to Neilo for the accommodation, and apologies to Stretchy for continually being in the way, probably smelling like a distillery first thing in the morning.
- half-decent shirt; and
- some cards for Disco Dick, Hanah Bin Kuk and Sarita Bin Jagpal. I was particularly pleased with Rich's England Football Team card ("You know me so well, Dave.").
And popped up to Salvatore's to get a timely hurcut, although forewent the customary coffee shop experience as I was starting to suspect I'd spent far too long taking my time.
Back up to Aggy, then, and a quick shar before heading for the train. Dozed on the way up, then spent an indorinately long time waiting for the Bakerloo line train to Oxford Circarse. But got to the Big One in time for the last half-hour in the Shiny New Studio! But I didn't see the desks move up and down. That's something to look forward to later in my life, I feel. Also encountered 'Zippa' — he's a very nice man —. Who made me laugh "She's just Allanah Miles for the Noughties, isn't she?". Very weird, that changeover procedure, but very well done...
So, Hannah, meself, Richard and Neil are all clearly and firmly in the mood for a liddle drink, Mr M's got to go off to Kent to judge some teenage deejaying competition. Obviously. But Sperm is awaiting us in reception. Then Hannah flags down a bleck texi and off we go to Kensington for a very nice meal in Maggie Jones's via a wee pub detour first. And as we walked in, I strode straight past Daniel Beddingfield's table. No idea he was there until later. But Sperm then hears him singing in the toilet downstairs. That's got to be a surreal experience..
Anyway, the craic at the meal was NINETY altogether, and we each consumed 2/3 of a magnum of wine (red in my case, obviously, leaving some very nice stains on my teeth the next day). I had a fantastic time, so thanks to Hannah for organising the whole show, as it was the complete antidote to the rubbish depression of the last few weeks! So �50 a head felt well worth it. Although the celery and stilton at the end was probably a stupid — some might even say drunken — manoeuvre on my part. Everyone was on fine form, the Joe Pasquale thing had me in stitches, and Sperm proceeded to get drunker and drunker, in a shock move. He even had a bit of Physics Buddy envy when I started talking about some random astro craic with Hannah, but I allayed his fears.
Anyway, the night had to end eventually as everyone else had to work the next day. Neilo had ordered an Addison-Lee to get us back to Charlton, despite a clueless Mr F vocally slagging them off as Neil was trying to book! Ha-ha! Mr M had got stuck in Kent and couldn't make it back in time, which was a shame, but saw him lastnight in more traditional circumstances (i.e. a pub). The taxi waited on us for quite a while, but in fairness he didn't charge us extra, and the whole thing only came to �30 to get all the way across London. In comfort! Doing that again...
Next day, and I rouse meself about 6:30. I know this, because a) I felt fine; b) I calculated that I must therefore still be drunk; c) I texted Neil to point this out. I then fell back to sleep for a couple of hours until he padded downstairs to wake me and donate the keys to the flat. Meanwhile I texted Sperm to see if he was still on fer lunch, and had a couple of hours more bed-rest until the appointed meeting at Goodge Street (one of the few tube stations that I actually know!). After I killed time in Caffè Nero, wandered over to his place, and met some of the staff who've to put up with him. Meal in Thai Metro — 2 quotes I quite like from this: 1) "He's not from the city"; 2) "Red curry, green curry... Let's face it: you're not going to know the difference, are you?" Cheeky cnut. — and then we parted ways before alcohol became involved: "I can't go back to work drunk from lunch on my first day back!". Until 5:30, obviously.
I then spent an extremely pleasurable afternoon doing something cultural (National Portrait Gallery; very big) and then met Mr F back at his orifice for to decide on a drinking establishment. Imagine no-one's surprise at us texting to say we were in the Green Man...
So we meet some people that Fraser recognises — a plugger, a Big One staffer, and some associated heads (and that's where the second half of the visit starts to formulate an interesting twist, but I'll come back to that). By chance or by design, we're soon joined by Emlyn (who's off like meself) who has a pass for the night, and clearly fully intends to use it. Then Neilo escapes to join us, while "Posh & Becks" (Emlyn quote) go off to get a tan. They presently join us, although Mr M's accelerator treatment seems to have been set to "11", as he comes in with a hoody over his head to hide the slightly slapped-face redness which ensued. Was all fine in the end, though, especially as a member of the bar staff, in a moment of comedy inspiration, came over with
a bottle of after sun for him! What a cnut... Anyway, a brief mutiny ensues (not going to go into that here) over in the corner while I'm chatting away to the plugger, his mate, and Mr F. Disappointingly, "GAK", as Channel Five abbreviate the team name to, are not the ones playing in white. That's "MID". And I get on my high horse and denounce "minority in astronomy" groups as pointless, thinking that some version for us deviants — Astropoofs? — would serve no purpose. In a moment of relative quiet, I start chatting again to this guy's mate, and we're getting along grand, but no more so than the usual craic in a pub. I investigate the last train to Gilferd (i.e. the one that doesn't end at Portsmouth, with me drunk, asleep and on it), and himself (this was a hint, I later realised) and Mr F pour scorn on my plans to try and catch it. When I realised that it was 9:35, and I was actually having ninety craic, I saw the logic in their arguments.
Right, so the mutiny in the Green Man is soon over, and meself and Neilo are once again nattering away, and then people start filtering away until it's just meself, the plugger, his mate (who's been looking at one of the lords, a lot), Laura (now depressed) Mr M, Mr F, Comedy Emlyn and Neilo. We're there till the very last seconds of the opening hours, then the poor young lady eventually wins out, and we head on, only to divert to a place called Mash. New to me, but with opening hours till 2, I'll be going back there! In we go, find a table, drunkenly drag some chairs to it, and carry on the carry on. At this stage, Sperm and I have been drinking since 6 o'clock, and the effects are being properly felt. I have a wee chat (not a big chat, although wheels are now in motion) with Mr M, and we compare notes on one of the group. Yes, he's a lord. And I know this, because within the two hours, we're there, he's propositioned me! Caught me completely off-guard, but is really keen for me to go back to his hotel! Clearly, I was oblivious to the fact that this guy's probably spent the last few hours chatting me up. And then I reacted in a drunken panicky way, declining him several times, and then saying something which — with immediate hindsight — is awful because it's so patronising. Before Christmas, JPD warned me that "you will meet a lot of bastards, but ultimately it's worth it", but at that point, I tell you, I'm feeling like one of the "bastards". Rubbish... So I'm actually quite looking forward to chucking-out time. Thence to the bus stop, via a Macky D's on Oxford Street. I haven't had a McDonald's in over a year, but this is not the reason it takes me a while to order anything coherent. Think I had a chicken fillet burger (or whatever McName they've given it), while Neilo orders a box of chicken nuggets as a side-order to whatever else he's got. The mountain of accumulated detritus on the luggage shelf on the bus was impressive as we alighted at the Charlton. "Drive the Bus!" got several rattles... Hahaaa...
By this morning, bearing in mind I'd had some gin'n'juice in the house on Tuesday night, I'd been drunk for several days. And I hadn't changed clothes since Wednesday evening. And smelt of booze, in all likelihood. Well done everybody.
(A couple of days' holiday. Honestly... Who was I trying to kid with the portrait gallery thing?)
Thanks to Neilo for the accommodation, and apologies to Stretchy for continually being in the way, probably smelling like a distillery first thing in the morning.
Saturday 12 February 2005
Three things
- Fact: I am depressed. Car has eaten up a load of money (about �300 of which is due to a colleague) and I need a proper holiday.
- But: I have a new LCD monitor to replace the one that went a bit dicky before Christmas! Hooray! And it has DVI input and is lovely and I have my desk space back and and...
- This is the wrongest picture I've seen in some time. And it's of three of my friends.
Friday 4 February 2005
I'm so fucked off...
... with this week, it's unspeakable. I'm going home in protest.
Where's my fucking holiday?
End of.
Where's my fucking holiday?
End of.
Wednesday 2 February 2005
I don't even know why I'm still here
I've got as much done as I'm going to do today... I just need sleep. Should've gone home 2 hours ago instead of being tired in the rush hour back into Gilferd.
Might have a little beer tonight. Might not. I probably need to accumulate some food in my house, but I'm not going to Tescos as I don't trust myself there.
Good news, though, is that the paper has a framework model for what's happened in this flare, so I'm going to write it all up as notes (already started in fact) and start fleshing it out tomorrow.
Might have a little beer tonight. Might not. I probably need to accumulate some food in my house, but I'm not going to Tescos as I don't trust myself there.
Good news, though, is that the paper has a framework model for what's happened in this flare, so I'm going to write it all up as notes (already started in fact) and start fleshing it out tomorrow.
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