Cool, Cool Mountain

Me, getting out of bed in the morning

Mercy, its cold. Whilst I have a nice view of the snow-smothered Sackville Park from the window of the flat, and the minus temperatures have driven the assorted hobos, teenage yobbos and their hoop-earring future-sows from their normal late-night drinking spots amongst the benches and AIDS beacon, the slippy surfaces and toe-killing temperatures are taking their toll on me. Combine said temperature with Adam's night-shifts and his understandable requirement to have all the blinds down so he can get some sleep in a morning and you have a situation where, upon waking up in bed, my newly-engaged senses are faced with a battle between the luxurious warmth of a double bed and a pitch black chamber of icy darkness. The pros and cons of snooze come to the fore.

For more reasons not to get out of bed, see the recent passing of Leslie Nielson. Sure, he was eighty-four but still not good when a dry comedy genius slips off the mortal coil. Instead of sticking some random clip from Youtube I will direct you to an excellent Guardian article with a biography as well as some great clips, including a kung-fu film - who knew?

The final blow has been the death of Adam's (nee, our) Playstation 3, which decided to kill itself and take the newly-bought copy of Fallout New Vegas with it. Why they don't have a manual drawer-release button like every other disc drive I don't know, so I am now faced with smashing the defunct console open to get the game back even though I can't play it (like smashing a coconut open to get the milk whilst being allergic to coconut milk), ask a shady friend of a friend to have a stab at repairing it and getting the disc out, or paying Sony £131.00 to get it all back but lose all saves, memories and digital good times that may be residing on the little fella's hard drive. This has also removed the ability to watch blurays from the Dance-Fisher compound, so a replacement must be found - somehow.

However, the Christmas markets are open (cheese soup not withstanding), hotdogs and tia-maria hot chocolate crap all over the rest of this miserable babble. Booyah.

Monster Mash

Sadly I have failed to report on this...













And this...













It isn't me in the second photo by the way, though given my theatrical penchant for dressing up you would be forgiven for assuming. As a result of playing Monster Mash last evening - gather a team of alcohol-fueled costumed hobos, take it in turns counting from from one, replacing any numbers divisible by three with the word Monster and those divisible by five with Monster Mash, any divisible by both with "It was a Monster Mash!" in your best hammy Boriss Karloff voice, when someone gets it wrong they drink and it begins afresh - and falling into slumber sat curled on a chair before wandering home at about 5.30, I have what can be described as a 'trick back' which is pinging at me when I stand up and felt drained of all humour when I woke up.

However, my good feeling is back, as a result of television and ready meal carbonara. This advert is funny, The Walking Dead starts tonight in the US which will be amazeballs, and Derek Jacobi must take some of the responsibility for my improvement of mood due to his incredible Ebeneezer Scrooge impression. In a Sony advert. So things are looking up. Noel Edmunds dressed as Pan on Halloween Deal or No Deal is amazing and visible to your left, reminding me of this Reeves and Mortimer lunacy. This week's Harry Hill was comedy genius, and it had an advert for his new album featuring the single I Wanna Baby which is, as expected, totally bizarre. Dragnet is now on which is a corker of a film, but what to do this evening? Sadly due to my solitude I am asking questions to this blog to imitate having a conversation, but you can't reply, can you? Can you? No. Ah well.

Wet-Dry World

Possibly as a result of the slight Biblical tones in the previous post, and most certainly an attempt to wipe away the hedonism and depravity of the previous evening's party in honour of the birthday of Adam Dance (almost definitely some kind of old world deity trapped in human form), a vertical deluge of brown water attacked the flat early the following morning.

Starting innocently with a few slow drips - much like the previous evening's party - it had soon become an experimental music installation consisting of approximately a dozen water-holding receptacles, from plastic champagne flutes to large two-handed saucepans, creating a rhythmic, subterranean sound wall of dripping water. Thankfully the brownness of the liquid was due to it seeping through the wood in the ceiling, not particles of decay leeching from the rotting body of our unknown neighbour in the flat above. Which was a relief I can tell you.












A photo of me taken early Tuesday morning, surveying the damage to the mezzanine (to be sent to our realty agent)



The apocryphal waters flowed for six days and six nights, during which I assumed the persona of a navvy on ye old man o' war, furiously slooshing out belowdecks in a desperate attempt to keep the sea at bay - well, emptying out pans and full cups in the sink - before Adam ingeniously used a plastic storage box as an impromptu water bucket and the whole thing became a lot more managable. And according to a telegram received just this morning, he is to be awared the Mario Mario Luigi Mario Green Pipe award for unrivaled ingenuity in the field of home plumbing, so along with his birthday he has had a great week.

















The additional cash prize for further research was also well-received


As is write this, the ordeal has been over for two days and the recovery process has started (i.e. I have picked up some of the plastic cups). Isn't it remarkable how life finds a way to survive?

Phoenix from the Flameface

REBIRTH

Guess whos back - back again? Simon's back - tell your friends. Guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back - and so forth.

Expect more cheap puns like the atrocity in the title of the post, because I now possess not only the capability but the intention of putting more drivel on this page until neither me nor you can stand to read any more. Why, even whilst typing this I wandered from room to room of my flat - cables harbour no power over me now - so long as I have remember to charge the laptop over night and remember to unplug it, thereby not having it yanked from my hands as the charger cable snaps taut and my baby lies shattered at my feet like so many others.

But enough, here is a quick recap of the year that has passed since I last put finger to keyboard -

- I am now a Box Office Manager at a cinema
- My brother Dave now lives in America with his lovely new wife(?), her two dastardly young kids(??) and the apparently quite large foetus that grows ever-larger inside her(???)
- Sam Bacon of previous mention has returned in a glorious fashion to the UK, living in Manchester with two other classic buddies not ten minutes from...
- My new city-centre flat that I reside in with my flame-haired lover Adam
- The dissolution of my long-term housemate nest stretching back to the university days, with prior housemates dissapating across the globe to (in order of exoticism) India, America, London, Liverpool and Salford

Finally, an apology for the hugh pause between this post and the last, I appear to have indirectly caused a Tory government and a global recession - now, time for payback.

Through stalls right, Elbow

I am writing this from a lapton/USB modem set-up, situated about ten feet from the main doorway of the Bridgewater Hall, looking at an empty entrance hall of pillars and glass and listening to the muffled sounds of Elbow and the Halle through the heavy closed doors. The occasional late press member (NME and Sunday Times, bow your heads) power-walks up to me and explains the situation in breathy tones (NME even winces when I tell him the first song is underway), but they get their tickets and wait at the suitable door suitably quietly for entry at a suitable moment. Even the volunteer helping me out has been given a ticket at the very last moment, the image of her gleefully scurring into the hallowed hall leaves a sickening taint on my otherwise brief but pleasant exchange with the young lady.

Slag.

Yes, when my manager asked "How late can you stay?", the idea of getting a freebie wasn't in my mind so I had no reason to lie. My gentle child's face smiled and agreed with vigour when the idea of staying until the interval came up, and I am not entitled to go into the show at all, the whole point being I stay slightly later until half an hour into the show to deal with latecomers etc. But still, hearing the press officer say "who shall we give these tickets too?" whilst she looked around for someone working here who could do her a favour and take the two singles for Elbow and the Halle Orchestra (we don't want gaps that's for sure), as I remained pinned to my desk - a deep burn to be sure.

On a positive note, I do have a delicious packet of Tic Tacs which I can eat with gay abandon out here, something that would be impossible if I was watching the band. And more seriously, I am going to be watching this gig again via live link-up tomorrow evening with a gaggle of good friends, good brew and good food, so all is well.

Please note - Grounds For Divorce was on and sounded immense :)

Bring on tomorrow night.

God Hates Fangs

I am currently using the wonders of the internet to keep up with the American Joneses and watch True Blood series 2 the day after it is show in the US, and after watching the first series in one big chunk (more or less) the weekly schedule is actually a plus as I find myself waiting for the next episode to appear online - it's a must-watch show folks.

The Louisiana town of Bon Temps is a simple, steamy little place where people knock boots together and shots back on a daily basis, and everyone goes around their mundane daily business is the high heat without much to report, until vampires "come out of the coffin". Those clever Japanese have invented True Blood, a synthetic blood drink (a B+ for me and a Type O- for my brother), which in turn allows vampires to emerge from the shadows they have inhabited in a series of press releases stating their willingness to socialise and integrate with the human population - if there is a blood substitute out there, there is no longer any need to feed on humans, so peaceful coexistance is the way forward. However, like the difference between a cigarette and a nicotine patch or heroin and methadone, sometimes the correct way isn't the favourite and while it might tick all the nutritional boxes, for some getting your only sustenance from a bottle pales in comparison to chowing down on some virginal beauties in a blood orgy of gothic pain.





I won't go into loads of detail and no spoilers of course, suffice to say it gets interesting right from the start, and it is a very interesting version of the vampire story given that the tone of the series is a weird hybrid of comedy, drama and violence. It isn't going to challenge your mind grapes in any way, just full marks for entertainment, also some sweet eye-candy in the form of Anne Pacquin of Rogue fame, looking sexy and gets her precious rack out) and numerous steely faced vampire men-folk, definately a program for adults and bigger boys (women who shag vampires are called "Fang Bangers", if you don't want to see a restrained big-titted slut be power-drilled by a skinhead vampire, then don't watch this and don't visit your Mum tonight).

It stars on Channel 4 in a few months I think, so get on it when it turns up for some enjoyable vampire loving.

And curry too!

Actually this one makes me feel sick, I would have poured it straight into a wok over onions and peppers and chicken, at what point would I have noticed? On the fork?

Fingers crossed no more mice-in-food articles on the news...

Everyone LOVES Malt Loaf

Back in business

Well after a hefty series of technical problems with my aging but still roadworthy PC I have managed to get back access to the Internet.

In classic computer irony, as I faced up to another (having had a problem earlier this month) thirty minute call to the Sky Broadband help desk and sat through the Scottish hold music, replete with occasional handy advice about the wonders of Sky, I decided it was wise to try and connect so the error screen was in front of my when I spoke to the help desk, who was genuinely helpful last time. After running the EXACT same processes as last time, I simultaneously connect to the internet and the smooth Scottish voice of the help desk. I did the natural thing and hung up immediately (help desk man would have wanted it that way, and I saved us both from a bumbling "oh there was a problem but I have sorted it now" curtesy conversation), and after satisfying my sexually-deranged urges that had been building since my net access was taken away, I have come to post on here.

That is dedication.

Further unwanted information to follow promptly.

Please, help the children.

This Sunday is the 10,000 metre run around Manchester, and along with the past two years I will be weeping and trudging myself through the streets in a self-sacrificial charity way, and you can help. Please give all you can by clicking on the above box. MANY THANKS!

Previously....

As a novel (read- quicker) form of update for FLAMEFACE I will post an email I sent to our very own Littlest Hobo Sam Bacon, a close and dear friend who has moved to the USA with his wife and who tells me regularly that he absolutely depends on my emails to keep himself abreast with the current goings on here and in the rest of the World, and in his own words, "to remind him of what it is like to hang around with the cream of the social crop, and a handsome crop at that". Although don't ask him about that, he doesn't like being put on the spot, just believe me - he'd want it that way. Also, seeing as I am reasonably lazy, the events since my last post tie-in nicely with the far-reaching topics covered in the email to dear Sam, so a crisp abridged version will suit my purpose nicely.

You may get more from the following post if you care to imagine it as a letter from a restrained-in-speech-but-not-soul, trench-inhabiting WWI soldier to his tender, young wife and never-before-seen baby son (neither Tom nor Daisy realised little Winny was conceived from the very last time they had made love, the very night Tom headed off for basic training) or maybe experience it in the musical Southern twang of a large, black Mammy reading to the sack-clothed, tousle-haired youngsters sat earnestly on the master's porch, hearing all about the grown-up boy who got away to the city and made something of himself. You can decide who fills what role.

"WORD UP!
Many thanks for the Birthday wishes, it has been a fun weekend, if you will allow me to break it down to you?

1) Derren Brown on Friday night. Adam and I, his housemate Jen, Ryan, Dave and the Standlee Parents all went to see the man-witch himself, and he was very entertaining and bizarre and unfathomable.

2) Relaxed all day, playing on the (your) X-Box and the like, then after Adam produced some massive cake of death, fifteen of us went to the Thai E Sarn Classic in Withington, which I think I told you about before, Crazy Wendy? The Thai lady who sings all the Elvis and Tom Jones etc. I did an excellent version of 'Kiss' by Sir Tom as Crazy Wendy stroked my head and told me she loved me. After the meal the 'lads' (i.e. not the cool gays and girls) all went back to mine for some Sky+ HD box office Hatton vs Pacman which was much fun, although after six hours of buildup a two round knockout wasn't what I wanted to see. However there were some big killer hits and good fights in the various matches before the headliner, so very enjoyable.

3) Sunday I staggered through the daytime until the evening when Adam and I met up with Ed in town for a birthday night out - because he is doing the Trans-Siberian Express he will be away during his birthday so he brought it forward. All the gang were out, and we were going to a devestating triple blow of gayness which you would salute. A foam party. At Legends (read- non-prissy gays, normally a lot of bears too, with some dark-room sex action too). DURING THE BIG BEAR BASH! Yes, unbeknownst to Ed when he picked the date, it was the big bear bash weekend, i think you know/remember it, thousands of juggernauts in leather stomping through Canal Street.

I can only state with the purity and truth reserved for a close brother like yourself that it was a fantastical night out with masses of hilarity and fun. Within 10 minutes Adam was down to his undies and boots and became the smallest person in the room by approximately 5 stones, minimum. I happily got my boobs out, literally no shame possible - imagine an 18 stone man with a wrestlers leotard on. Imagine a fur-covered human barrel being given oral sex by another man-mountain as a team of others worth on his upper body and shoulders with hands and mouths, all happening next to you at the bar as you queue for a can of Strongbow, foam glistening all over your body, loads of happy smiling men dance in shoulder high foam around you. At a guess I would say about 5% of the people in the foam area were up to erotic gay activity, which isn't that bad really given my nightmarish expectations, however if you were so inclined you could have a romp the likes of which could never be topped (or bottomed)! All my fears were proven wrong, it was just a seriously good laugh, no possiblility of getting into any trouble even though anyone around you could keep you in their pocket like Mr. Jingles from The Green Mile, so i should really start dedicating myself to embracing bear-dom. I know Adam would be game.

4) Monday I awoke feeling the burn but nothing too bad, just chilled out all day and then went home Tuesday day-time after completing Resident Evil 5 with Adam, went for a Ghurka Grill all-you-can-eat buffet with the rents, watched the second half of Arsenal-Manchester, spent Wednesday playing on the PC/Xbox and then came back.

A great birthday break and it means this is day 2 of my working week and it is a Friday, BOOYAH. <Ed. note this is dated 8th May>

Now, a full present rundown -

Absolute Batman The Long Halloween (book)
This is the graphic novel The Long Halloween (inspiration for The Dark Knight) pimped out into a hardback extended double size version

Conan Volume 4 (book)
The latest Conan graphic novel, a winner

Tshirt of stained-glass religious imagery but with people doing breakdancing and rock fingers etc
Basically what it says above, but more amazing than you can imaging

Mum and Dad (film)
Polish worker's car breaks down, gets a lift from a workmate who takes her back to his family home, where her Fred and Rosemary West-style family "adopt" her as their special girl. Not watched this yet but supposed to be hellish.

£15 Blockbuster Rental card
Highly pleasing, but does one get a new game (more later!) or just some rentals when times are financially tricky? Either way a cool gift from work.

Assorted old sweets such as Refreshers, Love Hearts and a Candy Necklace
As it says on the tin really...

Tshirt and two pairs of knickers
From Luke, they are pleasing to the balls (of the eye variety and otherwise)

Set of Remington head clippers

From Jonathan, I have been skanking his for ages so a valuable gift!

The World at War TV Series
From young David, the ultimate in WW2 documentary. First shown in 1973, only 28 years after the end of the war, the fact that the majority of those who fought/survived would still be alive to watch this amazes me, and means that they interview a lot of Nazis and Allies, so bound to be fascinating. Only watched the Stalingrad episode so far (Dave demanded it) but it was v.good.

The Hobbit framed jigsaw
Sounds bizarre, but Adam's housemate Jen had a hanging framed 1000 piece old-school hobbit jigsaw, really old and really cool, and she only went and gave it to my for my birthday! Immense gift I will send thee a photo when I take one.

£250 from the parents
Simple, crucial and highly well-recieved, the gift that keeps on giving.

All in all a very nice bundle and a very nice weekend, Matt bought me a KFC just to round the whole thing off, little Robbie Lyon gave me a DVD with High School Musical 3 on it (Rob is as physically and mentally in love with Zac Efron as a 'straight' man can be, it is quite strange but understandable), all the new Family Guy and all the new South Park, a gift of immense value and free (even if it is against the law, at least they are currently on TV...)

A retro RTS gaming craze is sweeping the nation, with Ryan and Nath Standlee and Dave fighting on Star Wars-Galactic Battlefield (Dave's wookies got pounded by Ryan's stormtrooper bastards, i need to see if you can play as Jar Jar, and if so take terrible payback), and I think i will be up to my neck in it before too long!

Books
Just read The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas, which was an excellent and sad book as you would expect. Worth a read for shizzle, the child's language comes across very well. Even better was The Kite Runner, which I highly reccommend - shitty childhoods in war-torn places seems to be a theme for me at the moment.

Keep me fully updated with any plans to return, if so when why how and we can maximise physical contact for that period, for shizzle. Big love to the wife.

Finally big news my sweet friend, Adam and I shall be moving in together on the 28th June. No digs planned yet but it is a 100% go for us both - allow me to inform you. I spoke to Ed about his accomodation a while ago in a vague way, anyway he got in touch probably a month ago now and told me that his friend owns a penthouse duplex apartment in Ancoats and was willing to rent it to Ed for £700 a month, I explained that Adam would be ending his contract in July and we had agreed to move in together, he was cool, so Operation 'Adam, Ed and Simon in a Mega Flat for £2.33.33 a month each' was put in place.

A few weeks of excitement later, Ed found out this was the un-furnished price, but managed to make it £750 for a furnished one. However this soon all went tits up because the owners couldn't afford to buy brand new everything for this flat so we had to turn it down. Crippling, but all the talk of living together and emotional gearing up and preparations means I am onboard with the program, it is too late to turn around and carry on living (very happily I must say) with Jonathan and co., so we are still going to move in together, but just a new flat. We are going to third the rent (but me and Adam share a room) which will enable us to get a ridiculous flat in town for a reasonable amount each month each.

If you do return home some time in July you will be able to see the flat! Moving in with someone, a big step I know, but Adam and I are actually properly in love with each other - disturbing and unnatural, but something I can hardly be expected to fight. This could all have been covered in a ten minute phone conversation, instead of this two-hour in-work email but hey ho I enjoy this shit! Dare you imagine living with Ed Trickett and Adam Dance?! My God.

Anyway man I will be getting fired if this goes on for much longer so I will wrap it up here, look forward to receiving my pressies, I am used to getting things I already have after the Christmas present you sent, but seeing as I am enough of a tool not to send you anything you are already one step higher on the good friend ladder then me so I can't really say much :) DON'T BE A STRANGER NOW, Y'HEAR?

Love you dude,
Simon"

Lovefilm

As part of my effort not to blow all my hard-earned dollar of DVDs each month - exceptions such as Quantum of Solace not withstanding - I made a vow in a previous post to take advantage of Lovefilm more, seeing as I am handing money over ever month for the service.


And by jove I have succeded in this mission, having rented and watched eight films between January and December 2008 but ten so far this year. I must admit that two films I sent back last year - Shooting Dogs and Once Upon a Time in America - I didn't even watch, and now they must be labeled as 'ones that got away' as they are both supposed to be immense.




However, the main downfall of Lovefilm for those who haven't used it is the random selection of films that are sent out. Obviously, random suggests you are sent films without any say in the matter, when actually you pick any title you want to go onto your Rental List, giving each film a high, medium or low-priority and awaiting the results. This is absolutely fine and the variety of films you get sent has no pattern and makes it quite exciting, wondering about what you are going to get next. However, if I have friends round and we want to watch something specific, it falls down as you are still going to go to Blockbuster and rent that new/specific film because that is what you want to watch, so to some extent I think this has become an additional form of film rental as opposed to replacing your real-world video shop. Not a bad thing, just a point to take into account.


Also - and I must take the full blame again - by Crom, the last two films I have been sent have been crap.

Simon says avoid unless drunk/at a party

Simon Says, starring Crispin Glover (young McFly father in Back to the Future, hair-sniffing Thin Man from Charlies Angels), was a waste of my precious time, and seeing as I spend a lot of time doing sod-all that is saying something. Five alleged teenagers, sporty Oriental, Brunetta, Blonde go-er, Jock and Stoner, go camping only to cross paths with differently-abled Simon and his twin Stanley. Between you and me, they are the same person, with Stanley having killed his brother and family when they were little, but keep that under your hat, and don't let Crispin Glover find out that you know. Number one point of the film is when Stoner, driving his Mystery Machine vehicle back to the campsite after finding a load of human corpses dangling by hooks at the Simon/Stanley house, drives into the hanging body of Oriental that Simon has swung out into the road whilst saying "Simon says your ride is here". But as Stoner was scrabbling in the passenger foot well for the doob that had slipped out of his stoned fingers, he misses the whole event, so when he gets back to the campsite he blames the heavy vehicle damage on hitting a dog, one that somehow shattered the glass in his windscreen a good five feet off the ground. Scooby Doo wanting his van back? Also, and without wanting to reveal too much and ruin the film, whilst Stoner is rolling head over heel down a wooded hill in the dark, avoiding the dozens of blades being flung out by a bizarre weaponised combine harvester operated by a psychopath behind him, he has a casual toot on a joint. Literally mid-roll. I do enjoy a crazy horror romp, it was directed by the same person who directed Harry and the Hendersons, and Crispy G is totally bonkers in it, but it was just too trashy for me. Another point with Lovefilm, I probably wasn't in the mood for this, but unless you want to hang onto something incase you fancy watching it at a later date, you have no option but to immediately send it back or at least give it a go. After keeping a couple of films last year for over three months I am now sending things back after two weeks no matter what.

Yes, that is a soldier removing a foetus with a bayonet

Before that I was treated to Black Sun - the Nanking Massacre, a strange horror - shockumentary looking at the Japanese occupation of Nanking during WW2 and the 200,000 people murdered, tens of thousands raped and generally savaged over the first couple of weeks (the massacre of the title). Dark and terrible deeds, including a 'First Person to Kill One Hundred People with their Sword' competiton (the Egg and Spoon wasn't invented until 1952), yet due to the acting quality, lack of storyline and perpetual violence the horror is lost amongst the fake blood and grenades and it all comes across as cheap which is not what you want when tackling such a nightmarish section of history. It has been accused of explotation, although I think it is more bad film-making then someone looking to profit from tragic real-world events.

So a couple of doozies there, but films I have added to the rental list myself, thereby invalidating the entire point of this post. Also, in both cases I stopped the film before the end, something that I always criticise when people slag off films they didn't finish. But I can tell you with maximum certainty that Simon Says won't have pulled off a miracle rise from the ashes to cinematic gold. But I can't say that for definate, so more fool me.

Forgive me, Crispin.

Tricksy!

From the Lovefilm.com website -

French films banned

All French-made and French language films will shortly be removed from the LOVEFiLM service. This controversial decision comes in the wake of new French legislation, which has "pulled up the drawbridge" on food imports.
British onions are among the first products targeted by the French government, in measures it justifies as "safeguarding our economy and national interest." The UK government has urged businesses across the country to levy whatever sanctions they can in protest, describing the French decision as "a significant blow to British exports, international trade in general and the spirit of a global economy."
We are responding to this call by removing all French-made and French language films from the LOVEFiLM service. We will contact all members who are currently renting a French title with return details and deadlines. Thanks for your support in this regrettable measure.
The LOVEFiLM Team

You April-foolin' sons of guns...

Shortlist?

It has been a incident-packed month or since I last posted on here, here's the abridged version -

- Friend Dave takes a sozzled tumble and managed to smash his own head in to the extent of requiring almost immediate brain surgery and widespread panic amongst family and friends. Fine now, Facebook image of his 40+ stapled head can be found readily online, but the whole thing was scary for all involved.

Give them your cash you slags

- Nana Burr, stepmother of Father Fisher, dies after a long struggle with leukemia. Funeral attended, I nearly break right at the end but cover well by closely inspecting random nearby tombstones to hide wobbly lip. The phrase "see you at the next one" is banded about by the elders to many chuckle but also actually quite true. Also definately have the vibe that my parents have now moved up a generation, and brother David and I are now officially Adults. Further compounded by...

- Brother Dave reveals his love with an America lady called Jade who he has visited many times over in the States (I always thought he was visiting random people, not the same person), and his intention to marry and begin the emigration process. After being told of the death of Nana Burr in the morning, this bombshell follows in the evening, and in someways worse as it was totally unexpected and involved someone I am very close to leaving the country for ever. Further explanation reveals Dave has known her for eight years, she has two kids (making Dave the English "weekday daddy", his own words), and his reasoning is that he can either abort the entire relationship or give it one-hundred percent and get hitched, and you can't really argue with that. Indeed, within three weeks of telling us all the big news he and Jade were married in Las Vegas (last Friday), he will be coming back here and then in approx. 1 year or so moving over there. Dramatic, but actually very pleasing and exciting!

- My Xbox 360 had the Red Ring of Death error, cause me reasonable psychological trauma. Thankfully (?) it happens all over the globe as Microsoft rushed the process, meaning they have the repair process down to a fine art, and I had it sent off, repaired and back in my hands free of charge at about nine days.

- Reading has slowed down slightly, I read The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler for the book club, very good and seems ridiculously modern for the time it was written, as well as funny and interesting. Very near to the end of Grotesque (see previous post) and need to get cracking with the next book club book, London Fields by Martin Amis - my heart tells me I am not going to get around to it and will be forced to make my excuses from the next meeting...
- Gaming continues at pace, and I have logged over 50 hours on the amazing wonder of Fallout 3, something that disturbed me heavily when the XBox died, until I realised the hard drive was fine and it was the motherboard and my efforts had been saved. Set in a world where, post-WWII, American culture has stayed the same in a heavily extended Cold War, whilst technology has advanced at a rapid pace. Think The Brady Bunch, stinkin' Commies, drive-through talkies and soda fountains with lazer weapons, atomic cars and advanced robotics. Anyway, the prolonged Cold War leads to a massive world-encompassing nuclear holocaust, with some lucky citizens finding their way into a series of Vaults, designed to hold a limited number of survivors with food, water and education.

I won't reveal anything further, but the game mainly consists of you wandering a massive landscape of post-apocalyptic Washington DC, rendered in immense graphics, and dotted with hundreds of different shacks, towns, cities, and giving you the choice of how to behave in every encounter. My character, for example, is the purest, kindest, gentlest, most caring individual ever to walk the landscape, dealing out kindness to those in need, blowing the legs off those who break what law remains, helping anyone with any problem, solving conflict and even giving what little water I find to the thirsty. Adam's character tricks children into wearing tight metal "necklaces" with explosives inside and sends them off to be child slaves for the rest of their lives. She blows people in half after getting everything out of them he can through other means, breaks into houses, uses her wiles to seduce men before murdering them as they sleep, and generally looks after Number One. It is so open ended that you can't get bored, and there is so much to do you will never see it all. Currently I am far as I can get, experience points wise, until they release an expansion, so the only thing left to do is finish the main story of the game. I HIGHLY recommend buying it, it is in the top five all-time games for me I think. Street Fighter 4 is immense, and I have reserved a copy of Resident Evil 5 for Friday's release. Nice.

- Saw 'Watchmen' at the cinema on Sunday, excellent and very enjoyable, even more impressive that Zack Snyder has managed to get a more than decent version of a very complicated graphic novel onscreen! It is long, although I didn't check the clock once, infact the only annoying this about it was the two pissed juggernaut black-eye wearing scallies who wandered in half-way through the trailers, one of whom shouted "YO!" every three minutes to no replies, and generally sat around being loud. After about five minutes of the film, with the same random shouting and jabbering, I went and snitched on them to the ushers, who called the security, and after a couple of minutes hidden in the toilets so I didn't walk in alongside the security guard who told them off, thereby revealing myself as The Betrayer, they shut up a bit and ultimately left. Take THAT, scum.

- Trying to watch every Lovefilm sent out to me in the post within a week and then sending it back, thereby getting my money's worth instead of keeping the same three 1980s Chow Yun Fat blood operas for three months at £15 per month. Just got through Star Wars Robot Chicken (comedy classic), United 93 (sad and amazing at the same time), Another Gay Movie (Graham Norton performing scat on a boy under a glass table), and Shiri (Sun from Lost as a female assassin from North Korea, wrecking the South). Also saw Frontiers, French horror about robbers who seek refuge during a Paris riot in a remote hostel, only to discover - we can all relate - it is ran by cannibalistic Neo-Nazis. Ouch(witz)!

Anyway, the idea of an abridged version was to to minimise the size of the post, but it is already a massive length, so I will end it now. I will try and post more often and in more digestible chunks, but I seem to have a penchant for binge-blogging, storing up lots of information about my day to day life and then purging them all over my screen at once, it can't be healthy.

Culture Club (fat, drug-addicted and keeping prostitues chained the radiators not required - but it helps!)

I can feel the post-Christmas financial nightmare slowly fading and being replaced with an impetus to save money by working my way through every book, dvd and game I have bought and never read, watched or played, so far I finished The Holocaust (possibly the most damaging book I have read so far in my short life, thank fuck I wasn't involved in World War 2 in any capacity), read The Shadow of the Wind and Legion (sequel to The Exorcist) so far this month, and am now elbow-deep in Grotesque. In summary -

The Holocaust (Martin Gilbert) -

Epic chronicling of the fate of the Jews during WW2 at the hands of my number one all time enemy, the Nazis. It mixes hard cold data with personal testimony for maximum impact, dropping hellish bombs on every page that would be unbelievable if it wasn't so heavily documented and referenced. Witness reports range from survivors speaking after the war and at War Crimes tribunals, to diaries and statements buried in concentration camps and ghettos around Europe and stumbled across decades later, the authors having died during the war but managing to get their points across from beyond the grave, also using the well-kept records of the Nazi's themselves. There are so many terrible and amazing facts in it, everyone should read it to try and get a better grasp on the unimaginable NIGHTMARE that it must have been, here's one of the worst I can remember - Belzec extermination camp had 434,500 Jews deported to it, only 2 (thats TWO) are known to have survived. One of these Jews, who later gave evidence at a war crimes tribunal in Poland, was murdered as he walked home from the trial by racist Polish citizens.

WHAT THE FUCK?!?

The Shadow of the Wind (Carlos Ruiz Zafon) -

Yes, this was part of the book club at work, so it was read under duress and not of my own free will, however I could have thrown the stinking text into the Salford docklands at a whim so I still count this as part of my reading frenzy. Simply written and enjoyable, it follows a young boy called Daniel who finds a corker of a book by mysterious novelist Julian Carrax in the Cemetary of Lost Books, and before long becomes embroiled in the mystery of his life and death, trying to outpace the faceless man who seems to be burning every copy of every novel Carrax ever wrote. Also having to deal with fascism, hobos, troubled friendships, ghosts from the past and teenage hoRMOneS (that random capitalisation symbolised hilarious puberty-induced momentary voice breaking), there are some good chuckles and a fair amount of surprising reveals to be had from Daniel's adventures, and thought the dialogue may have suffered slightly in its translation from its native Spanish it kept my interest to the end and is definately worth a peek.

Legion (William Peter Blatty) -

I read this sucker whilst undertaking my British Red Cross First Aid training last week (fully qualified now thank you very much), only small at 250(ish) pages, but a creepy one and no mistake. Following Detective Kinderman from The Exorcist, and written in a rambling, humerous inner-monologue for the most part, the brutal ritualistic death of a young boy carries with it the air of something more sinister then just murder, helped in no way by the speechless and frail old lady at the scene who's hair is found the boy's clasped hand... This is the sequel to The Exorcist novel, and the basis for the third film in the series, so if you have seen that it may not hold many surprises, but it manages to get the eerie chills out of the pages and down your spine without any excessive gore, violence and boob-based titillation (tittylation?), just simple discription and suggestion - always the best way. Horror in an elderly mental ward is a guaranteed chiller.

Grotesque (Natsuo Kirino) -

I am only around a quarter of the way through this one, but it is already in keeping with the first of her novels to be translated to English from Japanese (Out) in tone, language and topic - brutal, casual and extreme, in that order. Written in first person and from an unnamed narrator, we learn her sister and close friend fell into prostitution and have been murdered, possibly by the same man. So far however, 'fell' may be too kind a word, as we soon realise the narrator is a harsh, hate-filled bitch, and half the pleasure of the novel will be trying to pick the truth out of her nasty all-consuming teeth of derision. Or something. One thing I am not pleased about is publisher Knopf's decision to remove a section involving underage male prostitution - I am already up to my elbows in uncle and underage-niece incest, but oh, no, some male boy 'ho-ing is the absolute limit! Joking aside, slightly annoyed I can't read the novel as the novelist intended, but such is life, maybe once I am finished I can look online or something... I will update you when I am finished, great so far though.

Next - watching the films I rented from love film and have had for approx. 4 months now...