At Christmas time, there's no need to be afraid.

I'm drunk. It's the day before the day before Christmas Eve and I've not wrote this blog as much as I thought I would have. I often think about writing it but there seem to be exterior forces stopping me (work, the Stern Show, COD 4 and a porno where Juile Night sticks two dildos up her own ass).

I've never become part of the blogsphere ( is thats what it's called?), I've never left messages on other peoples blogs. I'm a zit on that impossible to reach part of your back, I exist but you can't see me and you can't quite put a finger on me.

Maybe this will change in the New Year and I'll become a zit you can squeeze.

I'm looking forward to a happy Christmas, I have a couple of days off work and I've got my son a nintendo Wii, so we'll both be playing Super Mario World on Xmas night.



Merry Christmas and don't get blown to bits by terrorist.

Peace Out

'Well tonight thank God it's them-instead of you.'

Gunpowder, treason and plot...

It's Bonfire night tonight, an unusual UK tradition.

We remember Guido Fawkes, the Mohamed Atta of his generation (his generation being 1605AD) and the plot to blow up Kind James I and the Houses of Parliament.

As I write this I can hear the dull thud of rockets and air bombs as the explode outside then echo off the buildings nearby. It's still early, 10 o'clock , this is gonna go on all night.

Bonfire night is shit, when I was young a rocket went off in my hand as I was tyring to throw it into a neighbours back garden. It burnt my thumb and index finger of my right hand, I couldn't tell my mum so I fell asleep with my charred finger and thumb in a glass of water.

I had to walk home from work tonight, it's about a 3 mile walk and fireworks were already getting set off in peoples back gardens.

As I walked along, waiting for a stray rocket to take one of my eyes out, the memory of two Bonfire nights that we're complete shit, came into my head.

The first one was when I was a young boy, just old enough to be trusted by my parents to stay out late with my school friends, I must have been around ten.
I remember chestnuts and potatoes wrapped in foil cooking in the embers of a massive bonfire at the top of Castle Street, behind the shops. And my old primary school friends who I haven't thought of in years. I keep thinking of someone trying to hop the fire and getting there trainers burnt and every one laughing.

The second Bonfire Night that wasn't complete shit was when I was a bit older, old enough to get served in a pub, I spent all night in the Red Admiral and didn't see a single firework all night...

No blog for a month...

I've had PC issues.

And my xbox 360 developed an internal fault.

Any I put my ipod shuffle in the washing machine

However my techno-troubles seem to be over, the insurance company have replaced my laptop, should get it in a couple of days, my xbox 360 has been returned, I might get to play Halo 3 before the end of the year!

ipod is still goosed though.

Peace

'Bioshock ending - shit' shock!

I've just finished Bioshock.

The ending to the best video game experience ever was always going to feel a bit flat.

For the first time since...well the last time a truly great game came out (Resident Evil 4 maybe), the boundaries between video games, cinema and killin' shit all got a bit blurred. The auteurs at Take 2 have produced an amazing interactive experience, a triumph of the senses, an Xbox 360 wankathon.

No real spoilers here but I need to let you know I got the evil ending.

And when the ending did come, I was expecting some reward or a grade for how well I'd done. I'd have settled for a movie clip that tied up some of the story threads. Instead I got a 60 second set up for Bioshock II and then threw back to the title screen.

I wish I'd killed more of those little bitches now...

Luca Brasi sleeps with the phishes

I'm back, and back on a gangster tip.

I've just bought the Godfather Trilogy on DVD, it's the red box collection. It looks like shit, the discs are in those ultra slim cases, one with a sepia close up of Don Corleone, the other two have a young Micheal and an older Micheal from part III, on them.

I've seen these movies many times. I remember seeing Part I and Part II as a child, even though I wasn't old enough to really recognise them as movie greats, some scenes stuck in my head for years.

Micheal closing the door on Kay at the end of Part I. The young Don wrapping a towel around a pistol and it catching fire as he shoots Don Fanucci in the cheek and the fishing trip with Fredo, with that shot ringing out across the lake.

Later in my teens I would fall in love with movies, with these films and that robot movie Jean Claude Van Damme was in.

Part I is just starting so I will leave you with one of my favorite quotes.

'She was beautiful, she was young; she was innocent. She was the greatest piece of ass I've ever had, and I've had 'em all over the world.'

Not a poem

I'm not sure what I think about poems in this blog.

In fact I am sure my writing isn't meant to be in a poemy form.

There is a piece of music called Glasgow Love Song, by Craig Armstrong. I think it's off the movie This Years Love, don't know for sure as I've avoided it. I've just realised that I purposely don't watch romance/love story type movies. I guess it's much the same for those people have who have extreme reactions to horror movies or anything with Steven Segal in it.

Just the title fires up emotions in my head. Now I'm thinking if This is This Years Love, what happened last year? And what the fuck is gonna happen next year?

I've just listened to this track twenty times on the run. It's only 2 minutes long but very moving, and I feel a loss inside of me. I can imagine this music fading in, in the movie, just at the very moment the hero/heroines heart gets threw into a mincer and made into dog food. I keep thinking of words to go with this piece of music . It's 1.19am now, and now... it's twenty-one times. I'll be up all night if I don't do this.

Waited more than you could know

Wanted less than you let go

Just hold on and you’ll be here

Just hope now that you are near

I don’t want to be too happy

I’ll settle for being ordinary

It's 1.48am now. It's not much of a poem but I think I can go to bed soon.

I just need to listen to Spider-pig off the Simpsons soundtrack, then have a wank.

Heathly eating.

It's still early. I've just been to the garage/shop around the corner, wasn't sure if it would be open.

I came back with these goodies.

















The cornerstone of any balanced diet.

I feel marginally less depressed than I did an hour ago.
I've just chomped my second bacon butty, the kettles just boiled.

'Ere love, get us a brew?'
'Ten sugars or twelve?'