"Fucking Pasties Everywhere..."

Today's Cycling Soundtrack:
The Bravery The Bravery - An Honest Mistake
Koala Kid Shaun of the Dead OST - The Gonk (Remix)
Method Man & Redman The Blackout - Alrightcha
Leftfield Leftism Track 3
Lazlo Bane Scrubs OST Superman
Dynamite Hack Take A Bite Outta Rhyme - Boyz in Tha Hood

WELCOME to my new readers, and:

I am BACK from St. Ives!

And it was cracking! Bloody cold, but we were stumbling around in fancy dress with CamelBaks full of Jack Daniels and Coke (or vodka and coke for some of the others), fired up on booze and toasty warm! There were several awesome shots taken, although I believe most of them were taken by DJ Bean, who at some point in the night lost his camera. Booooo.

Still, Bean managed to get a good shot of the group using Nick’s camera (From left to right - Mr. Bump, the Big Bad Wolf, Bugs Bunny Humping Chair, Litte Red Riding Hood, The Terminator (circa 1984, get in), Scooby Doo, A Soldier, A Dinosaur, Homer Simpson, Little Miss Naughty and in front, Another Dinosaur - out of shot: A Panda and the Cowardly Lion):

No-one had the heart to ask the Tardasaurus to move out of the frame. She was having such a good time.

And in case you can’t see my ugly mug in the dark up the back there, here’s a nice close-up (currently serving as my Book of Face profile photo):

“For the last time, I’m not supposed to be Robocop.”

We saw some amazing costumes as we trawled through the town. I’d upload some of the more awesome ones, but as I said, young Bean lost his camera, and I haven’t been in touch with any of the others to see if they got any good ones. Still, we had a cracking time, and I really liked the hostel we stayed in. A couple of the others thought it was a bit iffy, but I felt like I was staying in someone’s house! A really big house, mind you, but a house nonetheless! I’ve never felt so bloody comfortable in a place I’ve paid to stay in. There were comfy armchairs and sofas, little tables with chairs, a pool table, two fruit machines, a TV corner (including MASSIVE selection of mostly awesome videos and even a couple of DVDs, all free to watch as and when), and even a PS2! I only discovered this last on the day we left, however, which is a bloody shame because I would have done some all-night gaming otherwise.

The stay cost each of us £60 (Free showers, bunk beds with 6 people to a room), and we had a nice, warm-ish little courtyard to go and smoke in.

Yes, I said smoke. CIGARETTES. Roll-ups, for preference. I’ve dropped the habit now that I’m home again, but as I explained to people there (“Rich, I didn’t know you smoked.” – “I don’t. Well, apart from now.”), it’s a social thing, quite literally. I don’t get cravings for cigarettes, but if I spot people rolling up I suddenly realise that in a minute or two, BAM, there go half my conversational partners. I consider it a necessary sacrifice in order to increase my meagre powers of socialising.

On the subject of sacrifice, a little note for anyone who’s met my friend Justin, by the way:

NEVER LET HIM EAT CORNISH PASTIES.

His farts smell like the aftermath of Chernobyl probably smelled. Death, nuclear radiation and doom. On the journey home (8 hours on three trains with Justin and Nick), he was suspiciously unsmelly, while still being quite (silently) farty. As we got off our final train and stepped onto the platform, dog-tired and ready for bed, we took a deep breath of Colchestrian air.

I nearly retched. That little bastard had been fermenting one final superfart the whole way, and unleashed it just as we got back. So there he was, laughing like a git while Nick and I legged it down the platform to get away from the stench.

Oh, and while I was in St. Ives, I bought an extra copy of Bill Bryson’s Notes From A Big Country. Why? So I could swap it with the copy of Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity that I found on the hostel bookshelf.

I haven’t even finished it yet, but High Fidelity, and I really hate to say this, has made me have a serious think about where I am and what I want to do with my life. The lead character, Rob Fleming, is a thirty-four(?) year old who runs a record shop, and, I hate to say it because it sounds so clichéd, but for some reason I identify with him and a lot of his musings. I also fucking LOVE the way he has a Top 5 for just about EVERYTHING. I was one of those kids who always asked people what their favourite things were (part of a film, character in a book, kind of sweet, breed of dog, etc.), so much so that I remember Mum asking me, in a somewhat irritated fashion, to stop doing it. I’m pretty sure I still do that a lot.

Anyway, I’ve been reading it avidly. And I looked at my list of ideal jobs (nearly all of which are pretty much unachievable owing to the location/effort/qualifications/capital/time involved in successfully applying for them), conveniently written in Top 5 fashion:

1. Creature Designer for Jim Henson’s Creature Shop.
2. Creative Design Assistant for BioWare.
3. Author. (Science-Fiction, Modern Fiction and Fantasy)
4. Professional Movie Reviewer (including pen-light like Penny Hardwick!).
5. Film Director.

A job where I get to wear what I like, do what I love and get paid for it, essentially. Confucius is noted to have said something along the lines of, ‘Find a job you love and you will never work a day in your life’.

I just deleted three further paragraphs of me ranting about how much I hate my job. You don’t need to suffer that shit again. Instead, why not look at this? Sorry if that link doesn't work, I was blocked at work, but hopefully it's the awesome clip from Doomsday involving a bunny and an automated machine gun.

I reckon I might be in with a shot at No. 3, so I’m off to do some more writing now. Probably be on Warhammer again later.

Od.