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Sunday, February 29, 2004
The picture above, just in case you don't have Superman-esque vision and are having trouble making it out, is of me singing into a banana. I think I was doing a Duran Duran number. This is the state I was in at the end of Friday night's pancake party after several beers, a number of Moscow mules (vodka, ginger ale and lime) and another cocktail with a name too obscene to write here (the second word is cowboy and the first rhymes with rockchucking). The banana pic was taken just after I'd been dancing on the worktop. Then last night we went to Cousin Louise's wedding reception where more alcohol was imbibed - not much though; I was still recovering - and Cousin Martin gave me my new iPod. And a thing of great beauty and coolness it is too. It already has over 1000 songs on it with room for plenty more. I was going to take a picture of me caressing and cuddling it but decided that would be too sad. Instead, here's a picture of Syd enjoying a smoothie:  Sunday, February 22, 2004
I've got a camera phone! Which means I'll now be able to take lots of exciting pictures as I roam through life, posting them here on MarkCity. Take the picture above - it shows me, thinking desperately, What am I going to blog about today? How can I illustrate my post? I know, I'll take a rubbish picture of myself in the mirror! I'm sure you'll agree, the quality of this blog just shot up tenfold. While on the subject of new technology and shiny gadgets, I'll get my new iPod this week, unless Cousin Martin gets stopped at customs and they nick it (that was the sound of me tempting fate). One of the major buggers about getting my old iPod stolen is that I'm having to re-download all my CDs, which is taking hours. My iBook is getting a bit old and creaky, which doesn't help. Downloading songs reminds me of one of my personal bugbears: copy-controlled CDs. The last three albums we've bought have got this horrific piece of software on it that stops you recording the CD onto your computer. So even though I've bought the album I can't listen to it on my iPod. Of course, if I'd downloaded it illegally, I would be able to. Clever thinking, record companies. They all deserve to go bust, don't they? I played badminton earlier this week and couldn't walk for about two days afterwards. This is despite the fact that I go to the gym 3 times a week now. I must have used muscles that I haven't exercised for years. I'm even creakier than my iBook. Sunday, February 15, 2004
After all the midweek stress, I feel exhausted today. I've spent most of it trying not to fall asleep and made the terrible mistake of having a siesta. Rather than feeling refreshed I now feel as if my head is full of clouds and there's a layer of moss on my tongue. To make up for this rather somnolent post, I've put a picture of Syd above, eating some toast off Butter's plate this morning. I recently discovered that Butter allows the rats, including the picture-shy Nancy, to share her breakfast every morning, which is why I'm always finding rock-hard pieces of bread behind the sofa. Yesterday was Love Day. We did the traditional things: flowers, chocolates, presents, dinner and CENSORED. We also CENSORED and then, because I'd been a good boy, DOUBLE-CENSORED. Perhaps that's why I'm so sleepy. In Japan, as I've probably mentioned before, on Feb 14th, girls are made to buy 'obligation chocolates' for co-workers and the other men in their life. Japan Today has a great vox pop on the subject here including the classic quote: "I think that giving is always a nice act as long as you are not giving a disease." Hear hear. Thursday, February 12, 2004
I'm feeling a bit tender today. No, I haven't joined a Fight Club-style organisation which involves being beaten to a pulp for fun. I mean emotionally tender, psychologically bruised. Today, some piece of what I can only describe as shit came into my office and stole my coat. Inside my coat were my mobile phone, my keys and my beloved iPod. Aaaaaaargh!!!! As one who likes to look on the bright side, though, the coat was quite old and my mobile contract is about to expire, so I can get a swanky new camera phone in its place for free. This has also given me the perfect excuse to dip into my savings and buy a new iPod. My star of a cousin, Martin, has agreed to bring one over from the States later this month, as they cost about £100 less in America, especially with the weak-as-a-malnourished kitten dollar. I do, however, hope that the tea leaf drops the iPod in the bath and electrocutes himself, or perhaps crosses the road while listening to it at high volume, not hearing the truck bearing down on him. He and that NYC Subway Cop will rot together in Hell. If you see a guy wearing a hooded black duffel coat holding an old, slightly tatty iPod and a blue and orange Nokia 3510i, please kick him in the balls for me. Apologies for not blogging for a week and a half. I've genuinely been busy, trying to finish Sayonara Baby, which is nearing completion. At last. I've also had my choice of title vindicated by an agent who thinks it's "brilliant". I believe she also wants to see the book when it's done. That will then be my one contact exhausted and if she doesn't like it I'll be back on the Writer's Handbook road to hell. In other writing news, the option on Killing Cupid has expired, but we're hopeful that the Beeb will renew it. Which will pay for my new iPod and coat. If I get my coat at Oxfam, that is. We got tickets to see The Pixies at Brixton Academy in June. I've been waiting to see them for about 14 years. The tickets were £30 each and sold out in 25 minutes. Later that day they were selling on eBay for £100. My friend Mike was complaining that he's never mentioned on this blog. So, here you go: hello Mike. Now stop surfing and get back to work. Sunday, February 01, 2004
Snow - it's always a bit disappointing, isn't it? When I was kid I used to pray for snow, not only because it meant we could build snowmen and risk our necks on sled-substitute binliners, but because it meant school closed down for days. This week, the snow came, but instead of spending happy hours trying to kill myself on a binliner while skiving off work, I spent less-happy hours on a train, crushed up against all the other commuters, for hours. It was a cross between the Tokyo subway and the Trans-Siberian Express. Still, while stuck on said train I did read an interesting passage over the shoulder of a fellow commuter: "She came to him after midnight. She had already removed her wimple and habit." It must have been a good page: he was reading it for an hour. Then he fell asleep, sated. On Thursday night I went to a karaoke evening at the Regent's Palace Hotel in Piccadilly Circus. It's a huge, noisy place; by far the biggest crowd I've ever performed in front of. After waiting so long that my nerves got bored and died, I sang my standard: 'Hound Dog'. I rocked da house. The next morning I woke up and discovered I'd trodden black snow into the carpet and was late for work. See, snow just wants to make you suffer when you're an adult. We've been on a ticket-buying frenzy this week. Butter bought tickets to see the Chili Peppers in Hyde Park. I'm not going because I prefer young groups - like Duran Duran, who we're going to see in April. And just to prove that this isn't a household of fogey-worshippers, I got tickets for Franz Ferdinand at the Astoria, which sold out in nano-seconds. |