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May 22, 2005
Ordering my life
Needs to happen.
But here chez Chaotique, it’s just not going to happen in a hurry.
Though if I were to order my life, I’d probably go for a number 4, a 15, a 26 with a side helping of 33, and for an 'of course', I'd have an all-explaining 42. Then I'd wash this tasty dish down with the heady pleasures of a fine vintage ’69.
Posted by adhoc at 04:05 AM | Comments (2)
If you didn’t vote, then you can’t complain.
Bollox.
Just look at the telly.
Hit me baby one more time. Won by Shakin’ Stevens. Predictable. But Wrong.
The Eurovision Song Contest. Won by Greece. Lots of countries voting for their neighbouring countries [which it is all too easy to forget is admirable progress from them going to war with each other]. Lots of pretty women with vacuous personalities yet unfortunately non-vacuous cleavage. You know what I mean. All predictable. But all Wrong.
Many grounds for justifiable complaint.
So there you go. So now it's your turn:
I, Mr Adhoc Chaotique, am predictable but wrong because:
1) I am an impulsive hedonist made irritable and insomniac by my trying to live the reality of my dreams.
2) I am a narcoleptic jelly of indecision that has sunk beyond any hope of revival from an unfeeling coma of shameful apathy.
3) Both of the above.
4) All of the above, at the same time.
5) I have been drinking nearly all day but am not even in the slightest bit endrunkened.
6) If I really like something it is inevitable that I will break it.
7) I care about what these words say about me.
8) I just am. It is a rhetorical question that needs no answer.
Posted by adhoc at 03:38 AM | Comments (1)
Glad news - Sad news
Glad: I have finally got my hands on and my ears infused with, not 1, not 2, but 3 CDs of the lyrical genius that is Martin Newell.
Sad: Macc Town just failed to make the Division 3 League 2 playoff final.
Glad: At least this year we were saved from the torment of the end of season relegation battles.
Sad: On Monday I am going to a funeral of a relative that I liked a lot but never got to know that well.
Glad: I’m writing stuff. And I have also recently taken lots of photos. And I mean lots. And lots. And I am even allowing myself to be surprisingly pleased with some of them. As they are all on slide film, any online exhibitionism will have to wait until I’ve completed a scanathon in the near future.
Sad: Blogrolling has gone kaput again. Evidence over to the right. This is not actually upsetting for me though, so maybe I’m cheating a bit here. Where to next then . . . I know:
Glad: The glass is half full.
Sad: Not anymore. I’ve drunk all the contents.
Glad: There’s lots more beer in the fridge.
Sad: But going to the fridge requires moving and walking and the expending of other precious energies.
Glad: that I’ve now changed the subject.
Sad, but strangely Gladdening: Phwoar-gette freny . . . que, cum-ber gag warning. Can you keep it up for a week?
Glad but inescapably Sad: Mail Trains are back. Probably best not to figure out why this pleases me so.
Totally and utterly Sad: “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 . . . “ This is torture. I have Chesney Hawkes stuck in my head. If he doesn’t stop singing soon, he must die. His painful death may yet be my only possible recourse to sanity. Though I do have the hope that by posting it here I can vent the terror, and so rid myself of this infectous affliction.
Nope.
The Luke Skywalker of teeny-pop is just too annoyingly powerful.
Listen to him sing. And there’s more than just the chorus. Hear the verse. Feel the Force.
Where’s the darkside when you need it?
All resistance is futile.
Arse.
Posted by adhoc at 01:06 AM | Comments (0)
May 21, 2005
Meme Abuse: sometimes a stick needs a firm hand
This is unashamedly for Pix. Thanks.
Total volume of music files on my computer is: Lots. How am I supposed to know that? Do people keep all their music files in one place or something? Let me see . . . hang on, I’ve run out of fingers . . . erm . . . aha:
well there’s 18.12 here + 29.5 externally over here + 7.68 of recorded radio streams + 9.6 hiding on this old disk - 26.992 ish to allow for doubles in the iTunes library and also the spoken word and comedy stuff = about this much this many or inotherwords 37.9 gB songs. NB this figure does not take any account whatsoever of the large pile of music CDs currently balanced on top of my PC case.
The last CD I bought was: blank. 50 of’em. On a spindle and everything.
Song playing right now: ‘A Woman and some Whisky’, but the guitar is a little out of tune and my voice is somewhat lifeless, so it’s barely recognisable as an actual bona fide song.
Five songs I listen to a lot, or that mean a lot to me: Did they do ‘When the lights go out’ and ‘Closer to you’? Was never a fan. I suppose ‘Let’s Dance’ had some ‘jiggy jump to the beat and keep bouncing’ boy band energy to it, but in my opinion they only deserve mention for their crimes aganst music and their utterly diabolical version of ‘We will Rock You’. Utter Dross.
Five people to whom I'm passing the baton: I think, perhaps, that this should stop now. Before people start getting hurt.
Posted by adhoc at 11:55 PM | Comments (1)
May 17, 2005
help required - please enquire within
Oh bugger. Usually I'd be more proud to score full marks on one of these BBC quizzes. 14/14 this time. Oh bugger.
On a more congratulatory note, well done to Blogrolling for updating their php stuff (as evidenced to the right). I didn't actually understand why it was broken (as I didn't get around to asking properly), but now it works again so I don't have to worry. More exciting things and places can now be added. Breath holding optional.
Sarah Beeny comes out on top . . . as the most toxic and chemically contaminated celebrity. And, really, I haven't been anywhere near her . . .
I wasn't overly impressed with the Queen's Speech today. Perhaps a better scriptwriter would help in future. Russell T Davies or Sarah Waters would certainly liven things up some. I am pleased for a number of reasons to see the Charities Bill making a determined reappearance towards becoming legislation. And another Parental Rights Bill is good. Though I am not so sure about most of the Bills, and particularly the Identity Card Bill. In particular. Especially the thought of entrusting personal freedom to the politicians and the judiciary when this sort of shit is happening. A Tagging and Curfew order for a peaceful protester? WTF? WTFFFFFFF? Apart from my use of swearwords, I am speechless.
I prefer symbolic weather to the real thing. So am pleased that the symbols have survived reasonably unscathed here.
Making difficult decisions is not something that I enjoy. Difficult decisions that are just permeated with wrongness are even more troubling. For instance, in the very near future it looks as though I am going to have to make someone redundant that I don't want to, while not being able to sack someone that I desperately want rid of. Personally, I am confident of being able to uphold 'repetitive taking the piss as a dismissible offence' at an Employment Tribunal, but the HR Director is a somewhat more cautious. And regardless of this, I need to figure out by the end of the week how to get more work done for less money and with less people to do it. All I need is a plan. And a drink.
Posted by adhoc at 03:03 PM | Comments (0)
Inner Demons
Ok. Here's a damn good question. Exactly why the hell did I decide to move?
While on the one hand I know that now is undoubtedly the time for me to leave the sanctuary of the Castle, on the other hand, this evening I just can't put my finger on a reason as to why.
I've had my gripes recently, but they are mostly insignificant. The garden now looks lovely. The myriad of interesting shenanigans which are going on around here, are on balance entertaining. There is often someone on hand to sit up and help me drink wine when it has gone past my bedtime. Though this can have dangerous consequences, such as last night when a new political party was accidentally brought into being. Even the perpetual washing-up display has gone and cleaned itself up, somehow without any need for me to intervene.
So what am I doing? Why am I moving?
Well there are good reasons for my desire to move that are to do with my sanity. There are also reasons related to my self-confidence and also my current lack of self-discipline. There are reasons of privacy. And there are the many good excuses to go shopping that moving somewhere new brings. And there are reasons to do with history. Big reasons, as it goes. But I will miss the Castle and its merry inhabitants. Which, I suppose, is one of the reasons that I'm moving to a flat on my own that is only 5 minutes walk away.
In short, in this moment of brief reflection I have come to realise that I have given up wrestling with my inner demons, and am instead seeing what happens if I indulge them a little. This ought to lead me somewhere.
So what are my inner demons up to now. Well, lets have a look . . .
Every time I look down, my tummy has grown another new wobbly bit. As this cuddly expansion continutes, it summons forth the dreaded spectre of exercise. Though the recent discovery of Disco Yoga is actually leading me into temptation. There is likely to be more on this subject. Please stop laughing.
Many pairs of my shoes are falling apart at once. 3 pairs. This is strange and inconvenient, but can easily be alleviated by shopping. Unless I have, all of a sudden, developed highly toxic and corrosive feet. Which is possible, after all. I'd check, but I'm scared.
I have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory. . . Oh, hang on, that wasn’t me. That was Hamlet. But of late, I have fallen out of touch with too many people that I like being in touch with. This is proving especially stressful and upsetting. But can be cured by making phonecalls and writing emails to people who are my friends and that I care about. Though if it was that easy, wouldn't I have done it already?
I need to take more photos. Over the weekend just gone, I had a fairly disastrous day photographing a wonderful festival. I didn’t really get into the photography, 2 out of 3 of cameras broke all by themselves, and I didn't really enjoy myself. The day was saved by whisky, but the long term solution is for me to get out and take more photos. But will I? More likely I'll sit on my lazy arse taking photos of my toxic feet.
Ok - that bit didn't come out too well. The li'l demons themselves went into hiding, but you could hear the echoes of the more superficial side of some of their obsessions. Well I can, at least. Perhaps my inner demons are just rubbish demons? Bloody typical. Or perhaps they are just shy? That would be about right. Pesky buggers.
Posted by adhoc at 12:54 AM | Comments (0)
May 16, 2005
A Blog’s Weariness
Hint taken.
More to follow . . .
Posted by adhoc at 06:27 PM | Comments (0)
May 13, 2005
what a load of Bailiwicks
Well today has managed to be both entirely shitty and surprisingly educational.
For one, I learnt that The Channel Islands, which I knew are not a part of the UK as they are Crown Dependencies, are also not a part of the EU.
I learnt that the Channel Islands are made up of the two bailiwicks of Guernsey and Jersey. I found out that the legislature on Jersey has a nicely appropriate title: the States of Jersey. However the legislature on Guernsey outclasses its neighbour somewhat, as the legislature is known as The States of Deliberation. Just how cool is that?
Enhancing my trivia reserves while being paid to work. What a great way to pass the day that would be, if only it wasn't in order to investigate a potential loophole in our insurance cover if a client in the Channel Islands were to make a justified negligance claim against an alleged colleague of mine.
I did make one other particularly shocking discovery. It transpires that I didn't actually know where I lived. And never ever have done. Which was quite a scary realisation. And this is not because I have been drunk all my life. And neither because I’m moving soon. It turns out that until today I didn’t actually know the legal name of the Country I live in and am a citizen of. Oh the shame I feel. Though just out of curiosity, does anyone else actually know?
Posted by adhoc at 06:51 PM | Comments (6)
May 09, 2005
word spurts from a clogged-up writing brain
Is it safe to come out yet? Not that I’ve been hiding exactly, but I have been off plotting in other places and ranting by other means. Well the election is over now. Teflon Tony has had his majority trimmed, Dracula’s gone back into the shadows, Charles Thingumey appears to have become a politician and George Galloway appears to be an ignorant twat. Not a lot of surprises there then. Except that I now have a Tory flavoured MP instead of a Labour one. Yeauch! Oh well, as this isn’t my fault, perhaps I won’t feel so guilty about hounding this one when he turns out to be yet another useless tosser.
The democratic process. It’s what we fight wars for. Democrazy.
Anyway, today I’m back shackled to my desk atop the Grim Palace tower. And, lucky me, I’m playing a game. A game of fuksticks. It’s a bit like Pooh sticks. Except that rather than standing on a bridge I am sitting at my desk. And the sticks are somewhat shittier than the ones AA Milne wrote about. And I’m fending them off as they hurtle towards me, rather than waiting patiently for them to appear from under a bridge. Hmmm. . . methinks that perhaps this parallel could be somewhat less perpendicular. Anyway, regardless of the angle of metaphorical incidence, I still have deadlines interrupting my coffee drinking and though this is undoubtedly ’a bad thing’, it is also ‘the way it is’. Apparently.
Other things of recent note involve my making preparations to move out of the Castle at the end of the month, and this is draining my energies somewhat. Derren Brown turned out to be way more entertaining than even I could have possibly expected. And it has also been a time for numbers: the Hitchhiker’s film took an apt £4.2 million over its opening weekend, I’ve decided to do this on the 20th May, I’m gutted that Tony only came so so close to getting a sniggering faceful of a majority of 69, and Macc, with 75 points after 46 games, are in the playoffs. Excitement.
Posted by adhoc at 01:50 PM | Comments (0)