timboblog

The pushy rabbit

My screen has a blob on it (sigh). But happy new year all the same!

I hope you're all well and festive and copiously fuckered, depending on your individual personal taste. The royal and plural 'we' are rather the worse for wear having been stricken down by every fricking illness going, all at the same time too, at the exact time of the year where being really fucking ill tends to throw a big soggy towel over your whole party. You name it we've had it. We've probably still got it actually so I wouldn't get too near if I were you. You might catch something nasty.

I'm not hanging around for long as I've still got Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid, Bonnie & Clyde and in all probability Mary Poppins to watch. It is a busy time.

But as tis the season for giving, saying the word 'tis' and all that crap here's a widget thingy with which to watch Radiohead's New Year's Day webcast. We are not sad at all and so stayed in and watched the thing on the computer at the time (ie. midnight, January 1st 2008). So yeah, whatever, enjoy.

I love you all.

(Nb. Some of the stuff on the widget doesn't seem to work. Most of it does though so if you have any problems or complaints about it please don't come running to me. I didn't make it, it's not my fault, etc. The whole webcast is on YouTube too, but even that cuts off after 26 minutes so god knows what's going on, because I don't.)

Bucking hell

This has kept me amused all week and will probably do so for the next fortnight as well. The soundtrack is amazing!

Yes, I'm easily pleased.

And this is what has caused me to want to drag young Buck out of the obscurity of my early 80's memories and into my super tendy Brightonian living space (not 'room', 'space'... pay attention please; I'm at the cutting edge me). The bit of the flat that still has an okay ceiling.

South Park rules.

I once owned a die-cast model of Buck's super cool spaceship. It had moving bits and buttons and stuff. I frigging loved it. God knows where it is now though. At the bottom of a landfill somewhere in Lowestoft probably, which is really rather depressing when you think about it.

I spoke to Steven Berkoff on the phone today and he was very nice. It wasn't a personal call, and no, he didn't offer me a role in his latest play. Anyway, who knew he was 70 (blimey!) and that he was in A Clockwork Orange? I know! I didn't have a clue! I only remember him being scary in Beverly Hills Cop and that's easily good enough for me. I mean, who needs Kubrick when you can have Eddie Murphy?

Err.

eek!

So this is what it feels like to, you know, do stuff again.

I may start writing soon though, which might put a stop to that. Or maybe I'm just being cynical.

Oh yes, and the bathroom ceiling fell down.

Same old, same old.

Deary me

I am quite tired, as always. So now you know.
Also, the capital of North Korea is Pyongyang.
And we may have buried treasure right in our flat! Under the floor, yes, but technically that is still in the flat. Getting permission to dig it up; now that is going to be the hard part.
And before anyone kicks off, I may not be writing, you know, anything, but I am taking pictures, so I'm not entirely lazy in the strict sense of the word. If you want to use the loose sense then that's fine and hey, you've got me there. Bollocks.

I need to read some books (ie. more than none) and embark on a relentless pursuit of elongating my sentences, in the vain and hope that some poor fool might get totally the wrong end of the stick and consider me even slightly more intelligent than a bean.

That was a start.

And a big hello to all the fools out there!

Zoom in, zoom out

My head just emptied of anything to say. How annoying.

Time for a list cum summary. A means of emptying my head-shaped digest while the banshees wail out the front. Somebody get me a pitchfork and some mace.

• Grandparents are great, and 60 years is some benchmark.
• Cameras are complicated, but where once I was scared and ran away, now I am brave and tackle them head on. And buy lens things on ebay.
• It is terribly important to make time for 'me time'. Without this illness will surely follow. And it has followed.
• The rabbit lives to eat another day.
• I need to speak to a hairdresser and discover ways and means with which to make my locks even brighter than they are for next to no money. It must be do-able. It must be.
• Facebook has interconnected me with the burbling remnants of my lesser childhood and somehow this pleases me. I thought I would be horrified and try and shut it out, but it doesn't seem quite as bad as I thought it would be. Or maybe I'm just going senile. It's a bit like a school reunion, but without having to go, and without the twats.
• You can never have enough Chinese takeaways.
• You will never have enough money.
• Enough is enough.

Charlotte and myself have been together 6 years today. She's celebrating with a bout of tonsilitis and I've got a heap of mini chocolate eclairs. Oh life is good!

I love you my darling baby.
You light up my world.
x

The shiznit

Below is a little mosaic thing that I whacked together using a tool from bighugelabs.com. Very fancy. Anyway, these are my favourite pics by me, and in no way have anything to do with 'beautiful bumhole pics', for which this site is the 11th highest googlehit in the whole wide world. A depressingly weird statistic. In fact it's rather worrying how many people get to my blog by looking for anything to do with the word 'bumhole' at all. I wish I'd never typed the word bumhole in the first place. Bloody bumhole bollocks.

See what I did there? Very derivative, I know. I'm a terrible person.

The Daily Grind Blog: Day 3

I am going to start dedicating myself to my Flickr account, or to be more specific, to my camera. I'm getting a vast amount of pleasure out of taking and editing pictures - far more pleasure than I get from most things - and seeing as this is 'a good thing' then I shall try and do it more.

I'm not hugely skilled, don't know how to work everything on the camera yet and don't know much of anything about photography if truth be told, but I'm enthusiastic, vaguely artistic, and will learn what I need to do as time goes on. Time will also allow me to buy useful things like tripods, extra lenses and the like, and with any luck I might even get quite good at it.

So Timbofoto may be getting some extra miles, or it may end up spliced into this page, or it may just become one big Flickr page to save me time.

In other news, I was supposed to get up early this morning to go and do something, but at half eight I was very tired, had the option of staying in bed, and took it. And before anyone starts moaning about what a dozy layabout I am (and I am) you can hold it right there; I'm on holiday, and when one is on holiday one can stay in bed if one bloody well pleases.

Also, I'm not sure if this daily blogging thing is much fun. I never used to keep a diary when I was a child and I think I'm beginning to remember why. Firstly, it feels like a bit of a chore, and secondly, it's not really that interesting. Unless there is loads of stupidly fascinating stuff happening in your life (which isn't the case with moi at the moment) it's a bit of a needless rundown of assorted boring shit that no one else other than me should be made to suffer. I mean, who really wants to know all about how I cleaned the kitchen? Anyone? No? Didn't think so.

Therefore, I shall return to blogging normality with immediate effect.

Oh and here's the barnet, as requested (with some hairy armage for good measure):

Ps. I am the head judge for this weeks Post of the Week, so please head on down there and nominate your favourite post from the last seven days. And please, give me something good to read.

The Daily Blog: Day 2

The boiler cupboard is now clean and didn't have anything alive in it, which is progress. Today is the final stage of Project Craphole whereupon I go through a whole bunch of shitty soggy gack under the sink and around the bin, try not to retch too much, and then add a sparkling flourish to the horrid lino flooring. The same horrid lino flooring that looks dirty even when it has no dirt on it. Who designed this rubbish?

I leave you with the definitive list of the scariest Australian animals I've come into contact with (as discussed yesterday evening with the missus) from least scary to most scary:

Kangaroo - not really scary, but they have big legs and are tall ie. a bit scary, kind of.
Goanna - a big lizard, bit like a dragon, therefore scaryish.
Red-back spider - titchy but evil-looking and very poisonous - eek!
Box Jellyfish - most poisonous jellyfish in the world. Enough said.
Reef shark - not strictly dangerous, but it's a shark so I'm scared (yet I swam after it, like a twat).
Brown snake - its poison is fatal, it is very long, and it chased our van very very slowly. Run away!
Saltwater crocodile - big, huge, massive teeth, evil carnivorous monster thing with eyes that glow red. And I unknowlingly walked through a river that was full of them. I should be dead!

The Daily Blog: Day 1

What is it? Tuesday? Already? If I was at work time would be going backwards, but I'm on holiday a week too late and have missed a teeny portion of good weather and a probably brilliant blogmeet and time is going forwards way too sodding quickly and it's rubbishly shit. Fuck fuck fuck.

It also appears that the shredder has blown a gasket, which puts paid to Charlotte's old-ntl-statement-shredding marathon. She'll be gutted and unless it miraculously starts working again I shall have to fork out for a new one. Piss arse fudge.

I have been cleaning the kitchen properly (meaning  that I'm doing more than just wiping the surface occasionally with a soggy rag) and have been horrified by a) the amount of filth that accumulates through simply doing nothing, b) the scale of the infestation that has been happily breeding away at the back of the kitchen cupboards, and c) how much out of date food I own. I digress: at the beginning of the clean-up all our cabinets were chockablock with gubbins and you couldn't have even fitted in a small pea if you'd tried; post clean-up I have almost no food left apart from some cans of tuna, a packet of 2-minute noodles and some sunflower oil. Oh yes, and some OXO cubes. I can hardly wait for dinner tonight!

Next on the cleaning agenda is the boiler cupboard. It has things in it that haven't been touched in almost five years. I'm scared shitless.

Apocalypse

I've had an upset tummy, the missus has a dodgy throat and the toilet flusher hasn't worked properly for a fortnight now. The world must be coming to an end!

As something of an aperitif to The End we ventured out into town yesterday evening and had a lovely time watching and listening to Martha Wainwright sing her lungs out like a crazy woman. She was bloody-motherfuckingly good (spot the Martha in-joke) and despite having to stare unblinking into a fucking bright spotlight for the best part of the show my enjoyment was not diminished. She hung around afterwards and signed things for people, and I got a lovely shot of Charlotte and her having a hug (as you do) which I'm not allowed to show on here as Charlotte will definitely kill me if I do.

I took a load of other pictures too which you can have a gander at if you go here and then follow the link.

The gig was in a church (St. George's Church in Kemptown if you're interested in that kind of thing) which was a pretty strange venue if you ask me. Granted, Martha's stuff is acoustic and not tremendously grunge-tastic, but it has screaming and swearing and all sorts, so in theory it didn't really seem to fit. In practise however it was great and I completely forgot that I was sitting in a pew. The sound was really good too and the crowd were totally up for it. People were even sitting on the floor at the front like you do at school. Pretty weird. Still, next gig I go to is gonna be a standy-uppy jump about like a twat kind of gig. I need some relief after all these sit-down gigs. That's not a complaint, it's just me needing to dance. I was born to dance!

Now, I haven't done any linky stuff for ages, but I saw this yesterday and thought of you, so here you go.  It's a lawsuit filed by Jonathan Lee Riches, a convicted fraudster, against the Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick (full real story here if you can be bothered) and is easily the funniest thing I've read all year. He claims that Vick stole his dogs and used them for fighting (makes sense if you read the previous link) but then goes on to say that Vick sold the dogs on Ebay and used the money from their sale to buy missiles from Iran. But that's just the tip of the iceberg. Frankly, if this doesn't make you laugh there's something wrong with you.

Amazingly though, there is something in existence funnier even than this.

The very same guy (who quite obviously has a serious amount of time on his hands, which you would do in jail, I imagine) filed a similar mind-bogglingly ridiculous suit in 2006 against practically everyone and everything in the world. All in the same suit. It's 57 pages of comedy genius. Defendants include Malcolm X, The Queen, Tony Danza and Venus Williams (which is fair enough), but Riches also cites Nordic Gods (?), Mount Rushmore (!), the Leaning Tower of Pisa (...), Mein Kampf  (err..), the G8 Summit (how can you cite a summit?) and rather less tastefully the victims of the Asian Tsunami. What's he got against them exactly? Plus most of them are slightly dead, so he may have difficulties in getting those ones up to the witness stand.

Basically this guy is a total loon, but he made my morning way more enjoyable than normal, so please, enjoy.

I bleached my hair too.