Anonymous Posts

I have reluctantly had to change the settings of this blog to exclude anonymous comments, after a whole string of frankly very juvenile insults that were added to some of my older posts. All of them have been removed now. So, unless you have a blogspot account (you don't have to start a blog to have one), you can no longer post comments on this site. I had wanted to let anyone post, but I guess some people just can't resist being idiots. Sad state of affairs really.

Stony Broke

Well I won't be out on the town tomorrow night after all. See I was ill last friday, and took the day off work with severe flu. Only that lost me 8 hours of pay, or to put it another way, the money I would have spent at the pub tomorrow night. So no Market House for me this Saturday Night. Tony kindly offered to donate some cash to the "Get Robert out of the house and on the dancefloor" fund but I politely declined. I don't mind being in debt to my bank, but I won't be in debt to family or friends if I can help it.

So I'm going to sit tomorrow night out, and since I still have this wretched cough, that is probably for the best for my health too, what with the cigarette smoke in the pub, which would only make it worse. Still a LOAD of guys from Morrisons are planning on going, as well as both my housemates, so I hope they all have a damn good time. I know I have the past couple weeks.

Passed Inspection

Well she came, she saw, and was pleased. Pointed out a couple things we need to sort out, like defrosting the fridge/freezer and once the bit of plumbing that we told her needed doing is done, we need to mend the ceiling in the downstairs utility room. But other than that, a pass with flying colours. And she was surprised and delighted that we had kept all the mail that still gets sent to the house in her name, taking a shopping bag full of it away with her.

Awaiting Inspection

Just got in from work, and am now waiting for my landlady to turn up for her inspection of the house. To be honest we have been expecting her notice of wanting to inspect for 3 months now, ever since Jon moved out and Gareth moved in. We were convinced she would show up around then to meet the new tenant. She didn't.

A couple days ago we got the call that she wanted to inspect the house at 5pm today, so yesterday the three of us scrubbed, hoovered, dusted, wiped, cleaned and polished everywhere that we could think of. Tony even got into his motorbike leathers, bread knife in hand and set out to tame the Triffids in the small back garden... erm I mean plants! He also did battle with the resident spiders!

So now we wait. The house is as clean and tidy as we can get it, now just gotta hope she thinks so too...

You Got The Touch

In what is becoming a weekly feature of my site, I present Song Lyrics! This time a lively rock/soft metal tune from the Transformers Movie, written by Stan Bush and performed on the soundtrack album by no less than Van Halen!

You Got The Touch by Stan Bush

You got the touch
You got the power

After all is said and done
You've never walked, you've never run,
You're a winner
You got the moves, you know the streets
Break the rules, take the heat
You're nobody's fool

You're at your best when when the goin' gets rough
You've been put to the test, but it's never enough

You got the touch
You got the power

When all hell's breakin' loose
You'll be riding the eye of the storm
You got the heart
You got the motion
You know that when things get too tough
You got the touch

You never bend, you never break
You seem to know just what it takes
You're a fighter
It's in the blood, it's in the will
It's in the mighty hands of steel
When you're standin' your ground

And you never get hit when your back's to the wall
Gonna fight to the end and you're takin' it all

You got the touch
You got the power

When all hell's breakin' loose
You'll be riding the eye of the storm
You got the heart
You got the motion
You know that when things get too tough
You got the touch

You're fightin' fire with fire
You know you got the touch

You're at your best when when the road gets rough
You've been put to the test, but it's never enough

You got the touch
You got the power

You got the touch
You got the power

Lady Of Poison: A Book Review

My book to read at work the past week has been Lady of Poison by Bruce R. Cordell. Published under the Forgotten Realms shared world imprint by Wizards of the Coast, the novel is set in a region of the Realms continent of Faerûn that has barely been touched on before, namely The Great Dale (or more specifically the vast woods along its northern and southern borders).

The story centres on a man named Marrec who has a dark secret he is hiding about his heritage and past actions. He is trying to make amends to himself for being what he is though, by completing a dream sent quest by his goddess, whose power is waning, to rescue a Child of Light. He travels with a tattoed warrior named Gunggari, from a distant land named Osse (which isn't on any map of the Realms I know of or possess), who wields a dizheri which is of equal use as a heavy warclub and a musical instrument (think a didgeredoo and you're on the right lines).

This odd duo duly find the child and encounter the forces of the Rotting Man, the main villain of the storyline, a dark champion of the evil goddess Talona (hence his title is the Talontyr) and his three generals, the Blightlords (named Gameliel, Annamelech, and Damanda). They also encounter some allies in the shape of Elowen (an elven ranger) and Ususi (a deep imaskari wizardess).

The book is a cracking read, blending together all that is best about a good D&D adventure, some intrigue, treachery, wilderness, dungeoneering, camaraderie and villainy. I'd reccomend it to anyone wanting to know what playing D&D is like, as the book could very easily be used to write an adventure based on it. I seriously hope Mr. Cordell writes more books set in the Realms, as he has a good way of blending information about the world into his writing style, meaning that even someone who has never read a Realms book before, would finish the novel with a lot of details about a part of the world. All in all 4/5, it loses a point only because the books seems hurried in the last 100 pages or so. Had the author had another 50-100 pages to play with when crafting this tale, I'd no doubt be giving it full marks.

Commando Pheasants

So while I get stalked in my dreams by purple alligators, my housemate Tony is now convinced that the pheasants of Exmoor are out to get him. In the past three days, he's been attacked on his motorbike going to or from work, by four of them. He's pretty sure he eliminated three of his would-be assassins, but the fourth might have survived to try again another day.

While the thought of losing my best friend to a fat feathery fowl with less brains than a pigeon is depressing, it is also murderously funny! Reminds me of the Tae Kwon Dodo's from the movie Ice Age!

All The Fun Of The Fair

Got away from my computer desk for a few hours tonight to pay a visit to Bridgewater Fair (Bridgewater being a town about 25 mins drive away, that is full of cheap housing. When people in my town want to feel good about themselves they can console themseves with the thought that no matter how bad life might be, at least they aren't living in Bridgewater!) Still they have a fair, we don't, so off we went.

We being: my friends Richard Adams and Mads Bak (who is also my ex-brother-in-law to be), who headed up to the Morrisons store there in Richard's car, to park and rendezvous with some colleagues from work, namely Dan Shapter, Lyndsey Shopland and Martin Kertai of the bakery, and Jeannette Poole of the cake shop. Together we valiant (and very fast walking) seven headed to the fair which was a short distance away, having to first traverse the road leading to it, which was lined with stalls selling all manner of household goods, knick knacks, trinkets, as well as food and drink. I counted 3 fortune tellers caravans too, not that I was tempted by them. I've visited 2 palm readers years ago, both said I'd be dead by the age of 21. I'm 30 in january!

By the time we got to the fair the sky was dark with the onset of night, as well as thick roiling clouds overhead, and periodically throughout the evening it would chuck it down with rain, much to my delight but clearly not the girls, who eagerly sought an awning to shelter under. I'm not one for rides, I really don't have the stomach for it. It's not a fear issue, the rides look thrilling, I'd love to try them (well okay some of them, no way in hell would I ever go in the Bungee Cage, especially at £10 a go!). It's just I get horribly travel sick, always have done, I turn a very pale shade, break out in a cold weat, and get violently sick, which sounds funny I know. Only when I'm on my knees rectching it really isn't, it is very painful, and not an experience that I consider to be part of a good night out.

Still was fun to watch and listen to Lyndsey, Jeannette and Dan go on the rides, and I did go on the Dodgems. Gotta love bumper cars, and it was the guys ride, the girls sitting that one out and watching from the sidelines as we smashed into each other. And I got to sample food from some of the many food vendors, my main reason for going, though I wish I had tried something from the Red Dragon noodle bar there, and in hindsight the Costa coffee I bought was actually pretty yuck.

Would be nice to have had a lot more money too. I would have loved to have brought home the dragon statuette that was holding a mirror that Richard, Mads and I spotted on a side stall on the access road. Ohh well, maybe by next year I'll be rich... somehow. While my cough has gotten worse from being out in the cold and the wet (even with drinking an entire bottle of Veno's cough medicine), I have had a good night out in good company. Not that often I can say that on a Wednesday!

What Is Best In Life?

"To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of the women!"

Thanks to Conan the Barbarian for that quote! So I'm training an opponent. See for years now I've been trying (without any luck) to get my housemate Tony to play me at Civilization 3, a game at which I am quite good. And it's been excuse after excuse, so I finally gave up on that idea and have instead turned my attention on my other housemate Gareth. Even bought a second copy of the game (with all expansion packs) so he could borrow it to install and play with.

He has it installed and has played through the tutorial and while part of me dearly wants to play him now and kick his ass, I'm not going to. No. I'm going to wait a while, let him get the hang of the game. I've even given him some hints and tips. Give him a fighting chance. And then I'm gonna massacre him, cos well the game might lack in the lamenting women it sure is fun to crush your enemies and see them driven before you! Muahahhahaha!!!

The Cruelty of Humanity

So I finished work and was walking home today, and was walking over the metal foot bridge over the River Tone and watched then as some schmuck of a kid (cheered on by another little shit stood on the bridge) charged along the floating dock in the river, sending the better than 3 dozen ducks who were asleep on it fleeing into the river, he then stomping around to scare the couple who had gone to the landward side of the dock until they too fled into the main part of the river.

I didn't say anything, I mean what was I going to say? Don't do that again? Like they would have listened! But it appalled me. Those ducks hadn't done anything to him or anyone else, they weren't making noise, they were asleep or at the least resting quietly. Admitedly I'm biased. I love ducks. They have so much character, and feeding them is one of lifes greatest small pleasures. It's fun to take a loaf of cheap bread (it can cost as little as 23 pence, I mean that's nothing really, and the ducks don't care whether its the cheapie bread or top of the range bread. They go crazy for it all the same), break it up and throw it to them, watch them mass and swarm in the river, or better yet go to the weirs in Goodland Gardens and sit on the benches there and feed them at your feet, and sometimes from your hand.

I guess I don't understand wanton cruelty, I never have, even after being bullied for years at school. I've experienced more than my fair share of that cruelty which seems to be inherent in our species, but I cannot honestly say I understand it.

Last Night

I enjoyed last night, it was a good night out. Again I went to the Market House pub, only I took my housemate Tony Searle along with me this week. And I didn't go to Henry's pub first, arriving an hour earlier at the pub at about 9pm, grabbing a drink from the bar (the staff were dressed as pirates, which was great, the women, well most of them, having taken the opportunity to wear some very skimpy attire that showed off their ample charms to great effect).

The music was good (well okay most of it, the 80's had naff music, every decade does, but by and large it was stuff I knew and could dance too), and it wasn't too loud that I couldn't hear myself think, though I did have to lean in close to speak and be heard, but then I did spend the entire night on or near the dancefloor where the music is loudest. And I danced plenty, even got Tony moving from time to time (the most exercise he'd had in quite a while was how he later put it).

Got to dance with some lovely ladies too, a couple striking brunettes, one in a pink top with a very visible red bra on underneath it, and another in a white top that glowed brightly under the lights. And I got to dance with Linda, who runs the entertainment at the Market House from what I could gather, loves 80's music too, and is a very striking brunette herself. I've sent her the address for this place in the email I sent her *waves to her if she is reading this*

Spent a little bit more than I intended too but it was fun. Gonna go back next week, see if I can get a few of my other lonely bachelor friends to join me.

Insomnia Sucks

I can't sleep, well not right at this minute anyway. This is most likely due to having been asleep for most of the day and a pretty big chunk of yesterday too. I think my body is rebelling at the idea of spending more time comatose. See I'm still ill, and this worries me. Normally I get something like flu and it is here and gone within 48 hours, always been the way, apart from a 3 week bout of a very virulent strain that I got when I went to University in Oct '96.

Only I caught this flu on Sunday, suffered with it at work Monday and Tuesday and I've had the last couple days off work (my 2 days off this week). And I'm still ill, if anything it has gotten worse. I've lost all feeling in my nose aside from the bottom of it which stings like crazy and is very red. My lungs feel like they've been put through a cheese grater. I was sick earlier today and to add to my woes I gained (and thankfully lost) a headache earlier today as well. In short I am not a happy camper right now.

I've taken hot lemon (thanks for that Gareth), exhausted my supply of Max Strength Lemsip powders, taken aspirin and flushed my body with plenty of water. And I'm still ill. So now I'm resorting to drastic tactics. I'm starving the little bastard out. At the time of writing this I've not eaten anything in over 12 hours now, and I threw up earlier the couple sandwiches I did have for lunch before the headache stole my appetite away. My stomach is growling now and then, but it gets nothing, not until this bug is well and truly dead.

So it is really annoying right now that I cannot sleep, because I'm forced to be awake, with an empty stomach. My hatred for this strain of flu grows by the hour. But until it is dead I put nothing past these lips but cold water. I've gone over 3 days without food before now simply to prove to myself that I could. Let's see how long this bug can last.

New Books!

Arriving in the post today came two new novels (well when I say new, they are new to me, they were first printed in 1996 and 2004), which comes as a relief as I had run out of reading material for work. I go through about a novel a week, reading them in my lunch hour mostly at work (and sometimes grabbing 10-15 mins worth of reading time in my half hour breakfast break too).

The two new novels (and hopefully the third I ordered will turn up in the post tomorrow) are Stormlight by Ed Greenwood, and Lady of Poison by Bruce R. Cordell. The third book I ordered at the same time as these two is City of Ravens by Richard Baker. All are Forgotten Realms novels. I read a lot of these. Used to read them ages ago and then for some reason or other stopped and I have recently in the last year or so started again. I am now slowly but surely catching up on all the books that got published in the gap period whilst trying to keep up with the latest releases too.

Still I have a LONG way to go before I am caught up on my reading, at least another years worth of books at the rate I go through them. Which suits me just fine! So now all I have to do is figure out which one I want to start first...

Bless The Broken Road

This is a song that I was introduced to by my ex-girlfriend/vt kajira Dianna. I'm an athiest, so all the mentions of God and a grander plan don't do much for me, and I feel the song is actually quite cheesy really (and sung in a southern drawl too on the mp3 of it I have). Still it isn't a bad love song and is quite hopeful I think.

Bless the Broken Road by Rascal Flatts

I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you

Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

I think about the years I spent just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You've been there you understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true

Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

Now I'm just rollin' home into my lover's arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you

Face to Face

Song Lyric time again! This time a tune from Batman Returns. In the movie it is playing in the background at the ball where Selina Kyle (Catwoman) and Bruce Wayne (Batman) figure out who each other is behind the mask they wear. Written by one of my favourite modern composers (Danny Elfman), the song has a wonderful energy to it:

Face to Face by Siouxsie and the Banshees

Face to face
my lovely foe
Mouth to mouth
raining heaven's blows
Hand on heart
tic tac toe
Under the stars
naked as we flow
Cheek to cheek
the bitter sweet
Commit your crime in your deadly time

Commit your crime in your deadly time
It's too divine
I want to bend
I want this bliss but something says I must resist

Another life
another time
We're Siamese twins writhing intertwined
Face to face
no telling lies
The masks they slide to reveal a new disguise

You never can win
it's the state I'm in
This danger thrills and my conflict kills
They say follow your heart
follow it through
But how can you
when you're split in two?

And you'll never know
You'll never know

One more kiss
before we die
Face to face
and dream of flying
Who are you?
who am I?
Wind in wings
two angels falling
To die like this
with a last kiss
It's falsehood's flame
it's a crying shame
Face to face
the passions breathe
I hate to stay but then I hate to leave

And you'll never know
You'll never know . . .

Talk Like A Pirate Day...

...Was Yesterday!

And I missed it! Arguably the coolest new festival on the calendar and I completely forgot about it. Not one "Arrr", "Avast ye scurvy dogs" or "Pieces of Eight" said the whole day long. *sigh*

I didn't even remember to watch "Pirates of the Caribbean". Ohh well, there's always next year I suppose.

I'm Ill

I hate being ill, it really isn't any fun at all except for when you're at school and your Mum insists you stay home that day... and even then it isn't much fun cos you spend most of the day in bed, with a temperature and a rapidly depleting box of tissues. I'm not at school and as Jeanette is on holiday at work, taking the day off sick wasn't an option either (though I was late, bloody alarm clock ceased working in the night!).

So I have spent all day snuffling and sniffing, feeling really rather sorry for myself and trying to avoid the tired cliche of men being utterly weak and pathetic when they get ill, which women so love to bring up to tease us with. I've gone though a lot of tissue today, and this is super absorbant Blue Roll that we use in the store, not regular tissue.

I've taken some Lemsip Max Strength now to try and kill whatever bug I have got, and I have plenty more of it to pour down my neck if the little bastard can't take a hint and sod off to annoy someone else. I've got better things to do than be ill.

Something Of A Revelation

Okay I just got back from a night on the town, so excuse my spelling (I'll go over it and edit out any obvious errors later on when I'm sober). Tonight started off like any other night out, with the shower, get dressed, spray on deodorant , pick out clothes to wear (blue jeans, black pointy toed boots and my "My Brain is hung like a horse" T-shirt) and then head to the pub to meet up with a mate. In this case the pub was Henry's (which is about 3 mins walk max from my front door) and the mate was Dan who is bakery manager at work, and one of my friday night D&D group. Supposed to meet him at about 8:30pm in the pub. I was late... he was later, so I spent the first half-hour of the evening in the company of the lovely Naomi (she of the handcuffs dangling from her low cut trousers, that were so low cut I could clearly tell that she was wearing black lace knickers) before Dan showed up.

Watched him and Naomi play a couple games of pool, then played her myself and won, before saying my goodbyes and heading off alone to the Market House pub. Now you might remember me being tempted by their 80's night last week, but I didn't go then. But clever them, it is a weekly feature!!

Ohh joy, a night out on a Saturday with decent music!! My many many prayers have been answered. So in I go, and buy a drink that my now ex-girlfriend Dianna introduced me too (A mexican beer called Corona which comes in bottles and is drunk with a slice of lime pushed down the neck of the bottle). I then took up position near the dancefloor, drinking my first drink and gazing down into the pit (the pub has a large cellar level that is open to the street level and I call it the pit) and a blonde comes up, pinches my ass and smiles at me, mentioning that it's her birthday. I know she came up from the pit because her friends down there are very obviously watching me.

I think I offended her, at any rate she soon left and didn't really spare me a glance the rest of the evening. To be honest I was stunned. Women as a rule do not find me attractive. They certainly don't pinch my ass and hit on me. And she wasn't alone. I love to dance so after a couple drinks, and when a good song started up, I hit the dancefloor. And women ground themsleves against me, made room to allow me to dance in their midst, watched and smiled (not mockingly either) as I moved. And I was lost, I honestly didn't know what to do, which is a shame because there was a hen night group in, all dressed up in pirate clobber. With them was a VERY striking brunette dressed like a hula dancer who smiled at me more than once.

I don't know if she'll be there next week, but my Saturday nights now have meaning and purpose. And I really hope I get to see her again. Still, right now I am going to sleep. I think I'll dream of something other than purple alligators tonight, beautiful hula girls would be good!

Obnoxious Drunks

So I'm sat here by my bay window that overhangs the pavement outside. It's a Friday Night, which means next door in the pub it is packed... full of morons. All of whom are really quite loud when drunk or angry or all too frequently both. Inside the pub is loud, so when they want to chat on their mobile phones out onto the street they come.

Now the girls are great, no complaints, true some of them are loud, but on the whole they are also dressed nicely and from my window I get a good view. So them I can tolerate. It's the p***ed up blokes that get on my nerves, because they don't talk into their phones, they rant and rage and yell into them.

Case in point the bald muppet who I've just had to listen too screaming into his phone at someone he referred to as Son, threatening that he was going to "Rip your f***ing guts out from under your bollocks". He made this point several times, loudly, right underneath my window. Thankfully he seems to have headed back into the pub for now, no doubt to get further tanked up thus ensuring that he will be louder and, if possible, more obnoxious when it comes time to leave the pub in a little while.

It'll be nearly 1am before the street is quiet, I start work at 6am tomorrow. And people wonder why I look tired in work!

The Mask I Wear

I'm a gorean. I own nearly all the books, I've been a part of the online scene for 6+ years now. I tend to lurk more on the fringe though, let others fill message boards and forums with their words of right and wrong and their anger and all too often their petty bickering. I stay out of that, and concentrate on my character and my roleplay.

Only it's not roleplay. Roleplay is playing a role (obviously), a persona, someone who isn't you... and the gorean is me, not a mask I wear. So in the Gor chatrooms that I frequent whenI'm Darian Athuk, I'm actually me. The Robert that everyone in my RT world knows, is the mask. The shy, bumbling fat guy with the awful dress sense (I pretty much always wear jeans and a t-shirt with mountain hiking boots when in leisure wear). That's the mask, I created to be a more likeable persona, a friendly face, someone nice and utterly harmless.

So how do I kill him? Because quite frankly I'm sick and tired of him. Bob (everyone calls me Bob, I absolutely LOATHE being called Bob), needs to die. I just don't know how. Because I created a very effective mask, a very convincing mask, too effective, too convincing. Right now I have no sodding idea how to get rid of it. I need to lose weight, a large part of Bob (pun intended) is him being overweight. so that needs to go. I'd like to get rid of the glasses too but the idea of contacts frankly disturbs me, and I don't have the funds for laser eye treatment more's the pity.

I want out of this shell, because it has long since served it's purpose and it is long past time that I got on with living as who and what I am, and not some facade.

Purple Alligators

They come in the night, in my dreams. Have done for years now. And as time has gone by so they've gotten faster, more intelligent and deadlier. Purple fricking alligators!! *pause for anyone reading this to have a WTF??? moment*

All done? Good. Allow me to explain. For several years now I have had a recurring nemesis in my dreams, or to be more accurate nemesi (I think thats how the plural of nemesis is spelt anyway). These recurring foes are... well they're alligators, four shortish legs, big tail, big teeth lined jaws, covered in scales, and they like the water. Only these ones have purple scales. And they're fast, oh boy are they fast! Linford Christie dreams of being able to run as fast as these things move. What's more they can walk on their hind legs, they can talk (though they rarely bother to do so), and they are damnably good martial artists. You wouldn't think an alligator would be good at martial arts but these ones are, and they can really put those tails to use!

All in all a pretty formidible set of adversaries. As far as I can tell there are no fixed number of them and they all appear to be identical... and they all want to kill me. They cannot be reasoned or negotiated with, they have no qualms about killing anyone and anything in their path to get at me (I've seen a couple ex-girlfriends get torn apart in a variety of very gruesome ways many many times). They also appear anywhere, in any dream, whatever it is about. I can be Indiana Jones, James Bond, a Stormtrooper, hacking my way through some dragons lair, reading a book by the lake... you name it. These vicious killers have an innate habit of turning up and turning any dream into a brutal battle for survival. Mine.

Don't get me wrong, I kill plenty of them, thats the great thing about dreams, if you want a Quad Barrelled FragMaster 4000 cannon, you just get one. Doesn't help though. They die in droves sometimes, but there are always more of them. Other times there will just be one of them and it's up close and personal for a kung fu fight that would put those in the Bourne movies to shame. And they've gotten me. A few times now I've suddenly jolted awake, drenched in sweat, as a serrated jaw tears the life out of my dream self.

They don't turn up in every dream though, usually no more often than 2-3 times a week and never when I nap in the afternoons oddly enough. Also, while I am kinda curious as to what these imaginary creatures mean, in the sense that dreams have meaning, I don't want them gone. They keep things interesting!

Soaked To The Skin

Friday night is D&D night, has been for years now. Though the venue sometimes changes (right now it is the Albemarle Centre across town), and the players and even the DM changes, friday night as D&D night remains inviolate. So with that in mind off I set at 5:30pm today with my backpack full of books, dice, pencil case, miniatures, notes, pad of paper, as well as another bag containing our groups 4 reuseable battlemats (actually Gareth's property, but he never carries them around, that's my job apparently!)

But as it was brilliant sunshine I went out in just jeans and my Djork T-Shirt (from the PvP webcomic store). Fast forward 4 hours to when the game is done, I'm all packed up and leaving the Centre... and its tipping it down with rain. Now rain doesn't actually bother me, I don't mind getting wet, I mean it's water right? It's not like molten lava or pure acid is falling from the sky, just water, it can't hurt me. So I walked home and yes, I got drenched. I'm sat here typing this in wet clothes.

Winter is coming, month after month of it being cold, dark, wet, windy and miserable. I can't wait!

Blink And You Would Have Missed Me

rI went out. I skipped the part where I sit and have a couple drinks and went straight to the bit where I'm walking around trying to pick a pub. I decided on the Market House, big ass building smack in the middle of the town centre with a pub on the ground floor and basement. Tonight was Ladies Night! Great, I thought... forgetting that in this crazy town Ladies Night means actually very few ladies and tonnes of single blokes looking for any girl foolish enough to walk into the place.

But I had a beer anyway, even found a vacant table. But the music wasn't for me (or anyone else by the look of the completely empty dancefloor. I mean really empty, no-one was even stood near it!), and so I moved off. Dellar's Wharf, the big nightclub in town wasn't open and Remedies, Yate's and Shout (the other sizeable nightclub worth mentioning) were dead. Weird bit is there were lots of people about, walking around, just like me and I guess not finding much to their liking either cos I passed a few groups more than once.

So I came home early and seeing as I napped all afternoon and hadn't eaten since lunchtime I grabbed a chicken kebab which is technically food. Still, I did notice that the Market House has an all 80's night on Saturday, so that could be much more my thing.

Out On The Town

I'm debating whether to go out tonight. I have the money, thats not an issue. no, my indecision is based on not wanting a repeat of what always happens. Let me run you through the usual routine night out on the tiles for me:

I'll do what anyone does, shower, shave, get dressed in some nice clothes, dab on aftershave, spray with deodorant, comb hair etc etc. Finally look in the mirror and try to convince myself that I look okay.

So then I'll go to a bar (incidentally this is the routine for when I go out on my own, as would the case tonight) and buy a drink, and if there's a vacant seat I'll park myself in it and I'll drink. And I'll probably buy another drink and maybe a third before deciding that this pub isn't where I want to be. So I'll leave and outside in the night air, seeing gorgeous women walking around in thier party clothes, none of whom spare me so much as a glance I'll get a bit depressed. Plus, by this time I've liklely got the munchies anyway.

Off to KFC I go and buy a couple mini fillets, which I'll take out and eat just down the street at the benches beside Littlewoods. Sitting by myself, feeding my face I'll start feeling just a teeny bit sorry for myself. So anyway, with that niggling at the back of my mind, I'll go in search of another pub. And I'll search, and search and keep searching, wandering forlornly around the town centre like a little lost sheep, because all the pubs have bouncers on the door in this town, but it's not them that deter me, ohh no, I'm dressed in smart casual clothes with good shoes and I'm about the most unthreatening looking bloke in all of creation.

Nope, it's the music that drives me away. The goddamn awful music that blares out through the doorways as the door is opened. There are about 2 places in Taunton that I like (Remedies and Yate's), and both of them have as many bad nights as good ones. Which is a shame because they are also about the only places that ever play the kind of music I like to get up and dance too (I LOVE to dance).

So after a half hour of wandering about and inventing excuses not to give place after place a try, I'll get bored/depressed/miserable (delete as applicable) and head for home, getting back hours before I intended too and quite alone.

While tonight is my best bet to go out as I have no work tomorrow and Thursdays is a popular night to go to the pubs and clubs in this town, so there will be a good crowd (or there usually is anyway), part of me wants to go and give it another try. Most of me cynically says "why bother?". People are always telling me that I'll never meet anyone unless I go out, and I know they are right. But when I go out I never meet anyone anyway. Ever feel like you're invisible? That is exactly how I feel whenever I go out. I just don't know what to do.

Kajira Needed!!

I hate chores, I really do. Today is a day when I realise that I can no longer put off the things I've been putting off for a while now... and so I have to actually do them. Hence the title of this post, right now I'd kill for a kajira not only to do the chores, but so that there wouldn't be as many to do all at once too. Still my efforts to put a girl in my collar in the real world seem doomed to repeated failure.

So I've done the vacuuming and a load of dishes, my laundry is all up together right now too. Still got more dishes to go, and then later on I get the fun bit of guilt-tripping my lazy housemates into cleaning the bathroom and the downstairs loo, as well as, hopefully, their rooms, cos, well.... I'd post photos, only I think I'd end up traumatising my few readers from the sight of the utter shitpit that is Gareth's room. Tony's den upstairs (he pays more rent, so he gets 2 rooms, the bedroom and the den) isn't as bad, but could really use him going over it with a black bag cos there are empty beer cans and takeaway wrappers/containers everywhere.

Granted my room is hardly a shrine to cleanliness, but at least most of my stuff is on shelves (which groan and many are bent under the weight of said stuff but hey I'm a Capricorn, we hoard stuff).My main mess is clothes, cos I'm terrible for leaving them in a pile (a neat pile mind) and not putting them away in the drawers and wardrobe. I hate to admit it, but this house of bachelors could use a womans touch at times!

The One And Only

And while I'm a song lyric mood, here's another song that speaks to me on a personal level. In particular the third verse:

The One And Only by Chesney Hawkes

I am the one and only, oh yeah

Call me, call me by my name or call me by number
You put me through it
I'll still be doing it the way I do it
And yet, you try to make me forget
Who I really am, don't tell me I know best
I'm not the same as all the rest

I am the one and only
Nobody I'd rather be
I am the one and only
You can't take that away from me

I've been a player in the crowd scene
A flicker on the big screen
My soul embraces one more in a million faces
High hopes and aspirations, and years above my station
Maybe but all this time I've tried to walk with dignity and pride

I am the one and only
Nobody I'd rather be
I am the one and only
You can't take that away from me

I can't wear this uniform without some compromises
Because you'll find out that we come
In different shapes and sizes
No one can be myself like I can
For this job I'm the best man
And while this may be true
You are the one and only you

I am the one and only
Nobody I'd rather be
I am the one and only
You can't take that away from me

I am the one and only
Nobody I'd rather be
I am the one and only
You can't take that away from me

Tell Me Lies

I LOVE this song, the music, the lyrics, everything about it. I'm a big fan of 80's music in general, but this classic track by Fleetwood Mac just blows me away:

Tell Me Lies by Fleetwood Mac

If I could turn the page
In time then I’d rearrange just a day or two
Close my, close my, close my eyes

But I couldn’t find a way
So I’ll settle for one day to believe in you
Tell me, tell me, tell me lies

Tell me lies
Tell me sweet little lies
(tell me lies, tell me, tell me lies)
Oh, no, no you can’t disguise
(you can’t disguise, no you can’t disguise)
Tell me lies
Tell me sweet little lies

Although I’m not making plans
I hope that you understand there’s a reason why
Close your, close your, close your eyes

No more broken hearts
We’re better off apart let’s give it a try
Tell me, tell me, tell me lies

Tell me lies
Tell me sweet little lies
(tell me lies, tell me, tell me lies)
Oh, no, no you can’t disguise
(you can’t disguise, no you can’t disguise)
Tell me lies
Tell me sweet little lies

If I could turn the page
In time then I’d rearrange just a day or two
Close my, close my, close my eyes

But I couldn’t find a way
So I’ll settle for one day to believe in you
Tell me, tell me, tell me lies

Tell me lies
Tell me sweet little lies
(tell me lies, tell me, tell me lies)
Oh, no, no you can’t disguise
(you can’t disguise, no you can’t disguise)

Tell me lies
Tell me sweet little lies
(tell me lies, tell me, tell me lies)
Oh, no, no you can’t disguise
(you can’t disguise, no you can’t disguise)

Tell me lies
Tell me sweet little lies
(tell me, tell me lies)

The Simplest Pleasures...

...are often the best!

Never were truer words said. I'm sat in my directors chair at my pc, legs stretched out with a pint mug of good coffee to slurp and cinnamon whirl danishes to nibble on. The sun is shining (though thankfully not on the bay window to my right else I'd be cooking), and my curtains are open. Ohh and I have new slippers (the last pair went "alligator" a couple days back). So this isn't a long post. I'm just gonna chill out and unwind my mind for a few hours. I might try posting something more meaningful this evening.

I Love This Time Of Night

It's coming up to 3am here in the UK and for the past couple hours I've been merrily chatting away (sometimes heatedly) on MSN with a new acquaintance. And she's had to log off now, so I've made myself a pint of coffee and I'm sat her writing, slurping from it now and then and just enjoying the quiet.

The road outside is quiet. It's a main road, and it's usually choked with slow moving traffic for hours every morning and evening, and the people in their cars and trucks like to peer up at my bay window and stare at me sat here. So I often have the curtains shut during the daytime. I could put up net curtains, but in truth I really hate the look of them and how they get dirty easily and they're a pain in the ass to wash. So I veil myself off from the world, as everyone values some privacy, I'm no different. But right now, save for a rare vehicle the road is empty and quiet, lit by streetlights so it glows a friendly shade of yellow amist the murky shadows. And so my curtains are open.

The house is quiet. I have two housemates, they are both in work tomorrow and are both asleep. No sounds of TV from Tony's lair on the top floor, no sounds of aliens or monsters dying on Gareth's computer from downstairs as he frags and blasts his way through Star Wars: Galaxies or Everquest. No sound from the kitchen, nothing save the tapping of my fingers on the keyboard.

The pub next door is quiet. When we first moved in here it was a case of "Great, we're 3 bachelors living next door to a pub. How cool is that, easy staggering distance". That feeling didn't last long, we quickly learned from the looks we got when we went in that we weren't this pubs type of clientele, for starters we're all 30 or younger (or were at the time), and the crowd in there definately has 5-10 years minimum on us. And then theres the music... the bloody awful music. Karaoke on Monday Nights. Some gawd awful country band on Wednesday Nights (their repeat performers are Hoppy Horton and the Saggy Bottom Boys. I kid you not!). A "fun" Quiz Night on Thursdays that in the few times we entered it not one team got above 50% of the points. My team at University won the pub quiz league 3 terms running. I have an A-Level in General Studies which is basically like having a qualification in Trivial Pursuit. I'm good at pub quizzes, so believe me when I say that it is a VERY bad quiz! And then to cap it all off, a live band on Friday and Saturday Nights, playing til midnight. But right now, they are quiet.

So I'm sat here, drinking coffee, pouring out my thoughts via my keyboard and smiling, because I'm not normally awake at this time, but I sure wish I was. If I ever win the lottery I'm going to turn nocturnal!

Two Weeks...

Is a very long time when you're alone.

Let me explain, my girlfriend lives on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean from me, and in fact we also have a goodly sized chunk of the continental United States between us too, as she lives in Colorado, a time difference of 7 hours from me. Because of this we don't get to see each other online anywhere near as often as I'd like us too, and thats gotten less of late.

The reason being we decided that meeting face to face in the real world would be the best way to take our relationship to the next level. So we both booked off two weeks in late October and got saving, me by selling off old toys and junk I no longer wanted on ebay, she by working a truly hideous amount of overtime at the store she works at. We found out that we needed about $700 for the tickets for her to come over and spend those couple weeks with me. Well I've got my half saved and ready, and the last time we talked she had more than her half.

Now it is not unknown for us to go without seeing eacvh other for a few days at a time, only the last time we talked was August 20th, and I've not seen hide nor hair of her since, she's not been in the chatroom (she only really ever went in there when she knew I'd be there anyway), no replies to the emails I've sent, no messages left for me on MSN (which I keep logged in 24/7), nothing but silence. And I'm getting worried now, and so I'm getting a bit paranoid.

I know her full name, I know what town she lives in and in what state. Yesterday I did a Google search for her and found 1 person in Colorado with her name... only she's married to a pilot and living in another town. She's also a corporate manager. Not exactly the 22 year old single convinience store worker that I'm suppossed to meet at Gatwick Airport (near London) in 5 weeks time. Part of me laughs at this, I mean it can't be my girl right? I have photos of her, quite a few of them. And part of me isn't sure, and is glad I've yet to send her the money.

I don't know what to do. She could have had a computer blow out, been hurt in some way, lost her house, been robbed. There are a hundred genuine reasons why she's not been in touch for 2 weeks, and just that 1 nagging reason that keeps coming to the front of my thoughts to explain her absence. Either way I hope I see her again soon, I miss her.

Starting The Clock

So I got curious. I mean for all I know I could be writing away and no-one could be reading any of it. Now while I like to write simply for the sake of it, I can also be a bit vain at times, and so I've added a webcounter to the sidebar under the links so I keep track of who visits (if indeed anyone does). Also what with me being a fantasy geek, it feels right to have a dragon on the site, even if it is just the head of one.

Hot... Too Hot!

Phew... It's 2:30am. By rights I should be asleep by now, normally I would be, only its a holiday and if you can't stay up stupidly late on holiday then when can you?

But tonight is not a nice night, it's hot, sticky, and the air is so thick I could probably cut a slice of it if I were so inclined to try. So I'm sat at my computer, not the slightest bit sleepy, sipping iced fruit cordial by the pint in a somewhat futile effort to stay cool. The back door is open onto my tiny garden, the kitchen window is open also, only there's no breeze, so no air is circulating. I can't open my own rooms window (believe me, I've tried!).

I have very little inclination to do anything, but apparently enough to sit here, type and ramble on. Ohh and paint, every now and then I shift to my painting desk (conviniently next to my computer desk) and add a few touches to one of the many figures sat there, slowly but surely working towards their completion, whereupon they can join the rather pathetically small collection of completed figures on their shelf. My unfinished figures outnumber the finished ones by a factor of something like 20 to 1.

I would try to sleep, only it is too hot to sleep under covers, and the idea of trying to sleep in this heat frankly makes me cringe, plus I'm not sleepy so all I'd end up doing is lying there and sweating in the dark. Not exactly an appealing way to pass the time.

I'm out of cordial, need more. Must stay cool.

The Elusive Novel

Those who know me REALLY well will probably remember me at some time or another mentioning the novel I started writing a few years back and then gave up on once I reached page 50ish after I read back through it, and realised a few fundamental truths about it:

1: It had no emotional involvement, and stupid me had decided to write it from a 3rd person perspective (don't ask me why, to this day I honestly have no idea why I chose to write this way), which meant that the reader was completely detached from what the main character (a woman by the name of Emma Hoessan) was going through.

2: While the plot was okay, it could have been better developed, less hurried in some places, more so in others.

3: Description, description, description... or rather the lack of it. Tonnes of really pretty bad dialogue bolted together by passages of description as short and uninteresting as could be. Seems the only description I used, was for where she was going and what was happening, never where she was, what she could see, hear, smell, feel, or what anyone actually looked like! I mean yikes!

So I'm going to have another go at writing this thing. I'm not sure when exactly, right now is kinda hectic. But if the past year running my D&D campaign has taught me anything it's that I can write a plot, I can manage a story and make changes to it if needed. I can bring a story to life, create characters that stick in the mind and get an emotional reaction. It is said that there is a good book in everyone. sometime soon, I'm going in search of mine again!

Fine Tuning

I did a little bit of tweaking to the image at the top of the page to make it fit better. I think I have the site pretty much how I want it now, though I will likely add more links to it from time to time.

Darian Athuk: A Character History

This is the history I wrote out for my character Darian Athuk, based on the past 3 years of playing him in online Gor, hope you like it:

Darian Athuk was born as one of the fourth set of twins (along with his twin sister Akordia) to his father Varan Athuk and mother Demitria. Darian was always a lazy son, it became clear to him at an early age that with five older brothers he was never going to have to worry about running the family business (providing mercenary guards to merchant caravans), and thus could lie back and enjoy the family wealth without having to bother with earning it.

He would regularly skip lessons (hence why he cannot fight to save his life, though he never missed a lesson when it came to tarns, being fascinated by the huge birds), to spend time with the household slaves and his only younger sibling, his brother Rappan who was the only member of the family he really got along with. Rappan left the household at an early age, determined to make a name for himself, and ended up working for the assassin Soth GreyEagle, first as an apprentice, and then after changing caste, as a slaver, running Soth's tavern, the Black Dagger Inn. He eventually ended up in Port Kar, and there his life was to end, as he took his own life, jumping from the saddle of his tarn Watcher of the Dead, high over the port city, his body all but demolishing a hovel when it smashed into it.

On learning of his youngest sons death, Varan Athuk saw an opportunity to try and reform his lazy offspring, and banished Darian from the Athuk household in Thentis, telling him that he could not come back home until he had redeemed the stain on the familys honour caused by Rappan's suicide. When he asked how he was to do this, his father simply replied "Do as Rappan did, but do it better".

With this in mind, Darian set off across Gor, to learn the ways of the Slaver Caste, deciding on heading to Cos for training, as he had always enjoyed the company of the earth girls in his family holding, and Cos was known to be a place where they arrived from whereever it was they came from. It was on the long sea voyage too the island ubarate, that Darian found out he got seasick, thus beginning a hatred of sea travel that abides to the present day.

Darian spent a year on Cos, learning the ways of the Slavers, and it was during this time that he took part in a slave gathering trip to Earth, seeing the other planet for the first and only time, and gaining a deep loathing of the world in the process. When his training was done, he returned to the continent, and when he set foot on dry land again he vowed never to go on another ship, a pledge he has kept for years now.

Trained in the ways of the Slavers, he set off across the continent to hunt down the woman responsible for his brothers suicide, he having killed himself due to his inability to break her to his collar, after having hunted her for years. He finally tracked down Adrianna Seyal, and recovered his brothers tarn from her holding, she having kept the bird as a reminder of the man she had loved but would not submit too.

He set off then for Ar, determined to make a name for himself in the biggest city on Gor, so that his family would hear of his success all the sooner, his thoughts very much concerned with getting back home as quickly as possible. He gained an audience with the Ubar of the city, and was surprised when he was refused permission to take up business in the city itself, the Ubar having something else in mind. He took Darian to the village of Senkha, ten pasangs south of Ar herself, a small farming community built up around a amphitheatre, that had been ruined by an earthquake a decade past. The village had grown up while crowds from the rural areas around used to flock to the arena to watch shows, such as gladiator fights, honour spars, and more peaceful displays such as poetry recitals and plays.

The Ubar gave Darian administratorship of the ruined arena, and tasked him with making an income with it, so that it could become less of an eyesore and generate revenue for the imperial coffers. Darian moved in immediately, the Ubar spending enough coin as an investment to have the old noble seating boxes, knocked together into a small apartment, that part of the arena being remarkably intact. His tarn too was housed there, the earthquake having torn apart one section of the stands, leaving a gaping hole in the ground down to the old beast pens underneath, a rough but useable slope connecting the two levels. Darian was soon to discover that the earthquake had jumbled up the rest of the underground levels, smashing some tunnels, ripping open new caverns, until the arena sat atop a virtual labyrinth.

Tasked with making money from the wrecked site, Darian took to holding a market in the the open area that used to be the sands, held first twice a week, then later three times as it got more popular. Peasants from the village and the farms about would bring their goods and produce there to sell, and many merchants took to including the place on their travels, preferring to sell there and pay only a modest fee, than to pay the far higher tolls to enter Ar herself.

After a year though, Darian grew restless, the market was a success, the Ubar was pleased, or so the tax collectors who visited him told him, but he was no closer to returning home, his time occupied with running the market, slaving having become a pastime rather than an occupation. and so when he heard of a new place, a lair of pirates and scum that had just been founded, he packed everything he owned into a tarn basket, and headed for Parrot Cove, finding the place all but deserted, save for its leader Tai Phoon, who had been abandoned by those he founded the home with.

In return for a place to live and hunt from, Darian pledged loyalty to the home and to its captain, promising to do his best to ensure that the Cove always had a good number of trained kajira there. He would see to capturing them, training them, branding, and if need be, should their number grow too many, selling them at market. From that day to this, (barring a month long sojourn at Treve when the Cove was temporarily abandoned), Darian has resided at Parrot Cove, doing his best to keep his promise. He no longer dreams of returning home, knowing that he is already there.

H O L I D A Y !!!

Yes a week of no work, well not paid work at any rate. Still I can hardly call the coming week restful. In addition to a large laundry pile and a very onerous looking pile of dishes needing doing, I have a painting table chock full of semi-painted metal figures that I really should get to work on. I aim to complete at least a few of them.

I also have a monster project that I'm working on, to build... well, a monster. A Tarrasque to be precise. You can see where I got the idea, and some of my work on this behemoth at the EN World boards here: http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=12861 (scroll down to my posts). Since the first 5 photos posted there I'll admit I actually haven't done any more of it. I got that much done on my last holiday. So this week I need to head to the art shop in town, get some plaster of paris, assemble the other leg and fill both of them to give the critter weight, then build a 150x150mm base for it to stand on, trim everything to fit, glue the remaining parts together and then fill any gaps with putty. Easy! *whimpers*

Too I have a lot of typing to get done. I'm 3 sessions behind on typing out my D&D campaign's story logs, which I keep online here: http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=100196 so that needs doing, so I can get caught back up to where we finished at last night (the group meets every Friday night at the local games club). And I want to get this done before next Friday else I'll end up even further behind.

Plus my MSN is rarely not beeping merrily away as one or another of my contacts wishes to talk about something or other, and I have roleplay obligations to my homestone (gorean chatroom) Parrot Cove. So all in all a busy week ahead. But at least I don't have to wear a shirt and tie, that stupid apron and hat and that... wretched name badge!

I have two bottles of red wine in the fridge (yes I like red wine chilled, and before you call me a heathen, try it. Red wine is delicious cold), a big loaf of fresh slightly crusty bread, corned beef, pink salmon, chilli sauce, ice pops, milk, coffee and sweetener, plus a freezer and cupboards full of good stuff to eat. I'm going to enjoy my week off work!

Lock Down

Got my first comment... it was spam of course. As a result I've changed the site settings (really shoulda done that to begin with, but better late than never), to add in word verification on all comments.

On the plus side, I've opened comments up so anyone can post, not just other bloggers.

Too Tired

Too tired to post anything now, I'll post tomorrow. I have holiday starting tomorrow at 4:30pm. It is now 11pm. I've been awake since about 4am owning to insomnia. My bed beckons to me, calls to me...

Holiday tomorrow

Sleep now!