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. Continue reading →
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
The credit crunch was still going on, actually, is it me, or is the whole thing just getting boring? I mean surely there is only so long that all this can keep happening? Well apparently not, and this nugget of life still gives all the bankers in the world brown trousers as they hope mummy doesn’t take their toys away. October was the time we have seen the politicians getting the cheque book out again to bail out more financial f-ups in a vain attempt to get people to start doing the same thing all over again.