So I got up this morning and wandered downstairs in search of some breakfast. I made myself a bowl of muesli, but was scuppered when I found I had no milk. So I reverted to my contingency plan... toast. Sadly, I was once again foiled - this time by the lack of butter.
Dammit. Without milk I can't even make myself a nice cup of tea. I may die.
The only thing left to eat in the house is a solitary mini-tub of cookies and cream haagen-dasz ice cream. I can't have that for breakfast... can I?
Sunday, July 10, 2005
Monday, July 04, 2005
War of the Worlds
The visuals were great. Tom as usual was pretty good. It was a refreshing change to have a protagonist who wasn't heroic at all - only interested in his own and his family's survival.
Speilberg manages to prove once again that he's one of the best directors in the world, setting us up for the money shot as the first tripod bursts out of the ground and starts zapping people. Pretty amazing sfx right there!
It was nice that they didn't feel the need to explain everything in painful detail. I knew everything I needed to know and inferred the rest. I realise there are people out there who need this stuff rammed down their throat, but most of the time it's unneccessary and wastes valuable screen-time.
Overall, I was a little bit disappointed though. Visuals aside, I don't think there's enough meat on it to stand up to repeated viewing. Ho hum.
Speilberg manages to prove once again that he's one of the best directors in the world, setting us up for the money shot as the first tripod bursts out of the ground and starts zapping people. Pretty amazing sfx right there!
It was nice that they didn't feel the need to explain everything in painful detail. I knew everything I needed to know and inferred the rest. I realise there are people out there who need this stuff rammed down their throat, but most of the time it's unneccessary and wastes valuable screen-time.
Overall, I was a little bit disappointed though. Visuals aside, I don't think there's enough meat on it to stand up to repeated viewing. Ho hum.
Friday, July 01, 2005
Lost in Bristol
I have just returned from a most enjoyable curry night with a select number of my workmates, culminating in an impromptu session in the house of one of my uberbosses..
It is with great shame that I must report that, on the return journey from Boss' house to the car, which was parked outside the Indian, we got untterly, utterly lost, eventually stumbling upon the right road by sheer luck. What should have been a 5 minute walk, turned into a 25 minute trek trhough the posh wildlands of Redland.
The map below shows, in blue, the simple route that we should have taken. In red, you will see my best estimate for the route that we did, in fact take.
The worst part of it was, as all of us drove seperately, not one of us had anything to drink that night. We got lost, whilst sober.
I am ashamed. Mock me if you must...
It is with great shame that I must report that, on the return journey from Boss' house to the car, which was parked outside the Indian, we got untterly, utterly lost, eventually stumbling upon the right road by sheer luck. What should have been a 5 minute walk, turned into a 25 minute trek trhough the posh wildlands of Redland.
The map below shows, in blue, the simple route that we should have taken. In red, you will see my best estimate for the route that we did, in fact take.
The worst part of it was, as all of us drove seperately, not one of us had anything to drink that night. We got lost, whilst sober.
I am ashamed. Mock me if you must...
Monday, June 27, 2005
Hanging Doors
I discovered on Saturday that hanging doors is... er... really fun.
Actually it wasn't as difficult as I'd imagined. Our first attempt, a new bathroom door in the Stead's house was 100% sucessful with no major disasters at all. Apparently, it's a one man job. Bah.
Actually it wasn't as difficult as I'd imagined. Our first attempt, a new bathroom door in the Stead's house was 100% sucessful with no major disasters at all. Apparently, it's a one man job. Bah.
Friday, June 24, 2005
Sun, sun, sun, sun, sun, sun... RAIN! THUNDER!! LIGHTENING!!!
After nearly 3 weeks of glorious sunshine, the weather has finally broken. The BBC weather forecast prepared me for this, but like a true Brit, I didn't take it seriously. A little bit of rain, I thought. It ain't gonna be much, I thought. After all, we've had none at all for weeks. In fact we've had temeratures of 24-30 here in Bristol, which is positively scorching for us!
I was wrong. I woke this morning to a torrential downpour, accompanied by lashings of thunder and lightening.
Lucky I had my brolly, really.
Poor sods at Glastonbury. All that nice weather, and it breaks on the first day of the festival. Bummer.
I was wrong. I woke this morning to a torrential downpour, accompanied by lashings of thunder and lightening.
Lucky I had my brolly, really.
Poor sods at Glastonbury. All that nice weather, and it breaks on the first day of the festival. Bummer.
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Batman
I'm a big Batman fan. Always have been. So imagine my delight when they bring out a new Batman movie and it turns out to be great! Unlike the last couple which were a load of old nads!
Batman Begins was dark and brooding and exciting. Christain Bale was well cast in the role. He had a nice different approch to the character - scary and even a bit vicious - that the previous movies did'nt have. In fact there was lots of great casting - Gary Oldman, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman.
So anyway. Batman Begins Rocks. It's fantastic. Go and see it right now.
(I seem to be liking a lot of movies at the moment. Life is good!)
Batman Begins was dark and brooding and exciting. Christain Bale was well cast in the role. He had a nice different approch to the character - scary and even a bit vicious - that the previous movies did'nt have. In fact there was lots of great casting - Gary Oldman, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman.
So anyway. Batman Begins Rocks. It's fantastic. Go and see it right now.
(I seem to be liking a lot of movies at the moment. Life is good!)
Saturday, June 18, 2005
Beware the Pants-Eating Bunny
In all the excitement and drama of the previous post, I forgot to chronicle the latest escapade of the man-eating bunny that lives in my dining room.
She's devoured many things in her time, curtains, cables, hardback books, the odd small child, but this evening she decided that she was going to steal and consume my underpants.
I should clarify that I was not wearing them at the time. They were on the clothes horse, drying in the dining room.
She's devoured many things in her time, curtains, cables, hardback books, the odd small child, but this evening she decided that she was going to steal and consume my underpants.
I should clarify that I was not wearing them at the time. They were on the clothes horse, drying in the dining room.
Friday, June 17, 2005
Bloodletting 2: Bigger, Badder and Bloodier
Oh yeah. It was Bloodletting day today. I actually haven't donated blood since last September 'cos I keep forgetting. I am a bad man!
Anyway - it was a very traumatic experience this time round. After donating the alloted quantity of Dazza Juice (apparently they take 470 ml - just a touch less than a can of coke), they patched me up and sent me off for my cup of tea.
Whereupon, I started bleeding profusely.
Sadly, engrossed as I was in my tea, it took a minute or two for me to notice the spreading stain on my t-shirt, so by the time I got the attention of one of the attending nurses, it all looked somewhat catastrophic!
Still. Lots of tissue later, it all looked hunky dory, and I was about to return to my much deserved cuppa when it all started up again. This time they weren't taking any chances. I now have the most enormous lump of gauze strapped to my arm with industrial strength surgical tape! I ain't looking forward to tearing that off, I can tall ya.
I am apparently, a re-bleeder.
Sadly, it seems I cannot draw hands. Lucky, really that I don't have to draw stuff for a living.
Anyway - it was a very traumatic experience this time round. After donating the alloted quantity of Dazza Juice (apparently they take 470 ml - just a touch less than a can of coke), they patched me up and sent me off for my cup of tea.
Whereupon, I started bleeding profusely.
Sadly, engrossed as I was in my tea, it took a minute or two for me to notice the spreading stain on my t-shirt, so by the time I got the attention of one of the attending nurses, it all looked somewhat catastrophic!
Still. Lots of tissue later, it all looked hunky dory, and I was about to return to my much deserved cuppa when it all started up again. This time they weren't taking any chances. I now have the most enormous lump of gauze strapped to my arm with industrial strength surgical tape! I ain't looking forward to tearing that off, I can tall ya.
I am apparently, a re-bleeder.
Sadly, it seems I cannot draw hands. Lucky, really that I don't have to draw stuff for a living.
Monday, June 13, 2005
Glastonbury
We went to Glastonbury yesterday. Somewhere I’ve never been. Actually, when I make a sweeping statement like that, my mum usually interjects with ‘Yes you have, we took you when you were 3 months old’. So I shall be more careful with my phrasing: I do not recall ever visiting Glastonbury.
Right, having got semantics out of the way we can get down to business.
Glastonbury itself was actually somewhat bigger than I was expecting. It even has a ‘superstore’, although we never came across it during our visit. The main thing that struck me, however was the plethora of shops that were flogging ‘mystical’ tat. Yes, in any given shoppe (note the spelling) one can purchase mystical spell books, mystical candles, mystical bits of rock, mystical lumps of wood and mystical chunks of plaster-of-paris in the shape of mystical items such as mystical chalices and all the while, you are treated to the overpowering stench of mystical incense sticks. We received many dirty looks form mystical shoppe owners who overheard us slighting their wares.
The Torr itself was quite nice. Not especially high as hills go, but given that its plonked right in the middle of the Somerset Flats, its quite prominent and affords some pretty spectacular views.
I think I may have taken the picture just as the sun popped behind a cloud as it looks a bit murky, but rest assured, it was a gloriously sunny day.
Right, having got semantics out of the way we can get down to business.
Glastonbury itself was actually somewhat bigger than I was expecting. It even has a ‘superstore’, although we never came across it during our visit. The main thing that struck me, however was the plethora of shops that were flogging ‘mystical’ tat. Yes, in any given shoppe (note the spelling) one can purchase mystical spell books, mystical candles, mystical bits of rock, mystical lumps of wood and mystical chunks of plaster-of-paris in the shape of mystical items such as mystical chalices and all the while, you are treated to the overpowering stench of mystical incense sticks. We received many dirty looks form mystical shoppe owners who overheard us slighting their wares.
The Torr itself was quite nice. Not especially high as hills go, but given that its plonked right in the middle of the Somerset Flats, its quite prominent and affords some pretty spectacular views.
I think I may have taken the picture just as the sun popped behind a cloud as it looks a bit murky, but rest assured, it was a gloriously sunny day.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Painting The Town Red
My younger brother, Chris came down from Nottingham to visit me this weekend. I like my little brother. He’s cool and insults me in many new and exciting ways, bringing with him the traditions of the East Midlands. I do, however have to remind him fairly regularly that he is the product of a South Coast upbringing and should therefore not be referring to bread rolls as ‘cobs’ or calling people ‘duck’ (pronounced ‘dook’) and so-on.
Among the many thrilling and exhilarating activities that we engaged in over the weekend was a trip to the clubs and bars of Bristol Centre on Saturday night. Now this, I would point out, is something I would not normally do. In fact as a rule I would avoid it as best I could. There are several reasons for this, among which are the regular stabbings, conversation drowning base-lines and nasty, nasty bulgy bits on girls who should either be wearing clothes that fit, or simply wearing more of them! I’m a bit of a grumpy old man when it comes down to ‘going out on the town’.
Anyway, we persuaded the Stead to drive us into town and made our way into the closest bar – an oddly laid out affair on three levels. After making our way to the top floor we located a table served by a sofa and two very cool leather swivel chairs. Much spinning ensued on the part of Little Bro and myself, until Stead pointed out that spinning in one’s chair was not very cool and was unlikely to attract girls.
After a few minutes of somewhat unhealthy interest in the traffic to and from the gents, we decided that our current position was not affording us a particularly effective view of passing… er… trade, so we decided to move on. Two or three identical bars later, we decided to move away from the Waterfront and head up Corn Street. This was not our best move. The bars there were amazingly busy, many of them having lengthy queues outside. Now, I’ve been in these bars many times, usually at lunchtime or immediately after work and, as venues, they have always struck me as pretty mediocre. Given the amount of business they were doing however, my opinion was clearly wrong. The first bar we went into was so busy that we gave up after half an hour waiting at bar for service (or at least as close to the bar as we could get).
What did work out well for me though was that the next bar we went into was a Wetherspoons which meant that the round I bought (as it was my turn) in there cost less than four quid. Bonus.
I thought I’d finish with a few fashion tips for the ladies from the guru of coterie:
I have nothing against the… er… fuller figure. I would suggest, however that anyone who considers reducing the size of their backside by squeezing into trousers or skirts several sizes to small for them should think again. All it does is push that excess flesh straight up, creating a decidedly unattractive spare tyre effect. Skinny girls can also create exactly the same effect using the same technique and it’s similarly unpleasant.
Speaking of skinny girls… wandering round looking like you have an eating disorder is not attractive and is probably bad for you. Eat more pies.
And finally… belts. Belts are for one thing: Holding your trousers up. They don’t need dangly bits, frills, huge coloured disks, ribbons or shiny metal rings on them. They also shouldn’t be hanging around your arse. In fact, given the natural shape of most girls’ waists, you shouldn’t need the things anyway.
This is Victor Meldrew reporting for the BBC…
Among the many thrilling and exhilarating activities that we engaged in over the weekend was a trip to the clubs and bars of Bristol Centre on Saturday night. Now this, I would point out, is something I would not normally do. In fact as a rule I would avoid it as best I could. There are several reasons for this, among which are the regular stabbings, conversation drowning base-lines and nasty, nasty bulgy bits on girls who should either be wearing clothes that fit, or simply wearing more of them! I’m a bit of a grumpy old man when it comes down to ‘going out on the town’.
Anyway, we persuaded the Stead to drive us into town and made our way into the closest bar – an oddly laid out affair on three levels. After making our way to the top floor we located a table served by a sofa and two very cool leather swivel chairs. Much spinning ensued on the part of Little Bro and myself, until Stead pointed out that spinning in one’s chair was not very cool and was unlikely to attract girls.
After a few minutes of somewhat unhealthy interest in the traffic to and from the gents, we decided that our current position was not affording us a particularly effective view of passing… er… trade, so we decided to move on. Two or three identical bars later, we decided to move away from the Waterfront and head up Corn Street. This was not our best move. The bars there were amazingly busy, many of them having lengthy queues outside. Now, I’ve been in these bars many times, usually at lunchtime or immediately after work and, as venues, they have always struck me as pretty mediocre. Given the amount of business they were doing however, my opinion was clearly wrong. The first bar we went into was so busy that we gave up after half an hour waiting at bar for service (or at least as close to the bar as we could get).
What did work out well for me though was that the next bar we went into was a Wetherspoons which meant that the round I bought (as it was my turn) in there cost less than four quid. Bonus.
I thought I’d finish with a few fashion tips for the ladies from the guru of coterie:
I have nothing against the… er… fuller figure. I would suggest, however that anyone who considers reducing the size of their backside by squeezing into trousers or skirts several sizes to small for them should think again. All it does is push that excess flesh straight up, creating a decidedly unattractive spare tyre effect. Skinny girls can also create exactly the same effect using the same technique and it’s similarly unpleasant.
Speaking of skinny girls… wandering round looking like you have an eating disorder is not attractive and is probably bad for you. Eat more pies.
And finally… belts. Belts are for one thing: Holding your trousers up. They don’t need dangly bits, frills, huge coloured disks, ribbons or shiny metal rings on them. They also shouldn’t be hanging around your arse. In fact, given the natural shape of most girls’ waists, you shouldn’t need the things anyway.
This is Victor Meldrew reporting for the BBC…
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