The Google Head
I was working for google, although I didn’t realise it at the time. All day at work I’d had a spot on the side of my head, my temple. It was one of those really annoying spots that grows under the skin, you can’t squeeze them cause it hurts too much and it would break the skin, sometimes they just dissapear other times they break out are are MASSIVE.

Anyway I was working, and messing with this spot all day. I headed to the toilets and squeezed it, it was massive and some people where watching me saying how much blood there was, I looked around and I was covered in blood, blood everywhere.

There was now a big hole in the side of my head, and out of it popped a metal ball. I went back into the office and my boss told me I had to write to warn everyone about it on the official Google Blog.

The Running Man
Myself and good mate Lee were running, just running, for what seemed like a really long time. It turns out we were in a computer game, an old platform game, but we weren’t running at all, the world was moving under our feed, we were in the same position.

The Big House
I let myself into a big house, from the outside it was the same manor house that overlooked the Caravan site we used to stay at as kids, from the inside it was all modern. I walked around for a while and found my way following signs to a pub, when I got to the a big gallery/landing area the path to the pub had been blocked by large fallen bricks, there was a sign pointing to an alternavtive route. I walked back and was in the entrance lobby of the house and I heard voices, it was the owner and a vistor – he was telling him about the house, I raced to run out of the door but they were coming in that way, so I went to hide in the a bathroom but it was locked, I hid behind the door. They came in and headed into the main throng of the house, I tried to get out of the front door but it was locked so I headed to a side corrador. I could see another open door at the end of this corridor but I had to creep past a small sleeping dog. I did so, but got half way down this corridor when I knocked over a mop. The dog woke, gathered his thoughts and began to follow me down this long room, the room got longer, the dog got bigger by now it was a blood hound and was chasing me down. I ran as fast as I could to get out of the door and I woke up, out of breath.

Mexico
I was driving through Mexico in an old American muscle car, I pulled over and a man sent me down some side street where there was an arcade game, I played the game for a while. It was a Ninja, and I wasn’t controlling him on the screen but on the rooftoops of the street in front of me. It was all cool until some cowboys came onto the scene and started shooting at Ninja and then at me. I started shooting back (not sure when I got the gun!) and legged it to the car.

So there you have it, some of my recent dreams.  I think I might be a bit mad, am I the only person who has crazy dreams like this and can remember them so vividly?  I suppose it’s better than dreaming about a nuclear holoucaust.

…and no, I don’t eat cheese before I go to bed.

Antarctic Boy

Will the summer ever arrive or where those 2 days in May it?

Went to Manchester today, It wasn’t raining – first. time. ever.

Got asked for ID in Aberystwyth the other week, twice – I’m 27.

Fetched a drink from the bar in the local club on Sunday and proceeded to go up the two steps of the raised seating area. 2 seconds later I’m looking up at the lights and speakers and covered in a pint of Carlsberg Export. I do hope no one noticed (no one other than the kind doorman who helped me to my feet!).

Fathers Day soon, need card and beer. Two weeks to organise.

Don’t really see the point in Twitter, seems like one more thing to do.

Why do I look drunk on most of my Facebook pictures?

Thinking of joining a Male Voice Choir.

Had an ace time in Aber, cheers boys;

Links

Tom‘s blog pointed me towards some ace Ukulele covers, I’d love to see them down at the Crown.

I looked into making my own Pork Pies the other day, but it seems Offaly complicated (see what I did there?)

Those (ahem) with Parcopresis would have struggled on the Space Station this week.

Anyone who enjoys Wellington in the summer should take a look at the entertainment planned for this year, there are couple of things that take my fancy.

Thurs; Finish work, home, nap, white lion, stella, whispers, export, pussycats, sambuca, dance, bad photos, laugh, home, toast, bed.

Fri: Finish work, shower, taxi, Crown, drink, Chicken Burger, taxi, bed

Sat: Wake late, small hangover, coffee, coffee placed closed, lager, subway, mend someones computer, sleep, music, shower, white lion, rain, whispers, cats, sambuca, tequila, (more) bad photos, rain, vip, chiken burger (again – oops!), home, pass out.

Sun: Wake late, shower, go to mums, eat big roast, watched cricket, DIY, sleep, eat sandwich, watch telly, go home, music, computer, sleep.

Mon: wake, get ready, petrol, work, internets……

It was a strange experience really, pretty much every time I’ve been in that club they’ve been playing R’n'B and it’s been full of stripey jumpers and folk who look like they have school in the morning (or maybe I’m just getting old) but last night it was full of cool, funky people all itching to hear some Smiths or Stone Roses – we weren’t dissapointed either.

Lamacq was ace and was eager to take requests and have a bit of a chat. Towards the end of his set about 2am he said something about not being the greatest DJ in the world but wanted to play a record for the greatest; John Peel, and proceeded to play The Undertones – Teenage Kicks. ACE

I was a bit unsure about how good it would be last night but I’m happy to say it was class all round, although I’m not sure you need a toilet attended on an Indie night!

Well done CoCo’s.

I have today purchased a 160 pack of your wonderful PG Tips Tea. I am very happy with your product and today I was especially pleased as this pack contained a Monkey! My youngest son is a huge fan of Al and the Monkey and screams with laughter at the TV advert. This mini Monkey would make his day – you can therefore imagine his horror when opening the box to be greeted by a ONE EYED MONKEY. Shock. Horror. What has happened to him, have those evil people at Yorkshire Tea been trying their hardest to ruin it for the newly re-united Al and Monkey or was it simply a mistake at the monkey factory? Either way my son and I would be most grateful if you could perhaps send Monkey an eye patch or more realistically a new Monkey. Not that this household is prejudice towards one eyed monkeys of course, but his constant winking is making me feel uneasy.

p.s. Merk is 25!

Stav says it does, but then he doesn’t have silky smooth skin like me.

One thing I have done while I’ve been off is watch an American TV series called Hereos – about a load of unassociated people who posses strange super-powers but dont really know what to do with them. One of them is an artist and paints the future, he paints a big picture of New York exploding and he and some others think they should do somethin about it. It’s a bit ‘Lost’ in some parts but very good and yet again where current US TV is concered – no expense is spared with CGI and other effects.

I’m sure I’ve said this before but there is some damn good telly coming out of the US just recently, Lost, Prison Break, 24, Jericho, Hereos and of course the Sopranos to name but a few -and we’ve got Ant & Dicks Poker Face and Dancing on Ice – what a crock of shit.

The problem with sleeping all day is that you cant sleep at night, my hearing is still a bit funny so every noise I hear sounds like a jumbo jet going over – I can hear the tank of the toilet filling up and it sounds like someones driving a tank through the bathroom,, a dog is barking outside and it sounds like a giant ware-hound-dog thingy.

Everytime I go to sleep they keep building more……heh they just built another one before I woke up.

WTF?

As an early Chris Moyles fan (although I find him a bit tired now) I was instrested to read his offering – If I’m honest I’d say I was a bit dissapointed with it. It reads like you’d hear him speak but it seems a bit rushed in places and quite disjointed. Funny in parts.

I’m Dreaming of a Shite Christmas by R.J. Clarke
From the same series as ‘Is it me or is everything shite’ – a short funny book which pretty much sums up the way I feel about Christmas these days. A great read while we were waiting for Turkey.

As Used on the Famous Nelson Mandela: Underground Adventures in the Arms and Torture Trade by Mark Thomas
A funny yet very serious book about a trade that lacks more morals than Jade Goody. I’m a fair way though this and I’m enjoying it – I’ve always liked Thomas’ writing style from previous articles in the New Statesman and this book is as easy read as his occasional column. Those who have his CD’s or have seen Mark on tv or live will find some repetion about previous exploits but it’s not a bore to read them again. I bought this book when we went to see him back in December and Mark kindly signed it – which is nice.

QI: The Book of General Ignorance by Stephen Fry
This is a great book, imagine every bit of incidental general knowledge you thought you knew and throw it away.

Prague Top 10 (Eyewitness Top Ten Travel Guides) by Theodore Schwinke
Borrowed from a friend in preperation for our forthcoming trip to Prague, it’s given me an idea of what I’d like to see before I get wasted on 50 pence a pint lager!

Notes from a Small Island by Bill Bryson
This book came out 11 years ago now so seems a tiny bit dated but it’s one of Bill Bryson’s travel books I’ve not read – someone tried to tell me that there are much better travel writers than Bryson but I think it comes down to who’s style you like and how much you enjoy reading the author. I like Bryson’s acecdotal style and almost ‘British’ humor (he did live here for years I suppose) and I thought it was about time I read his take on my country. I’m really enjoying this book, It’s almost as good as his European effort; Neither Here Nor There: Travels in Europe.

Y’Know, It feels kinda strange – for the first time in my adult life I’m actually enjoying reading books.

(Fiction can still fuck off though!)

Light a candle, it’ll help to remind you
Of your time together on earth,
and as the flame flickers, remember
Her kindness, her goodness, her worth.
So, glow little candle, that briefly,
You’ll know that her memory can’t die,
As you see her sweet face in the glowing,
Shed a tear, say a prayer, then goodbye.
Light a Candle by Kathy Holler

Christmas has never been the same.

So just when things are going pretty well at work I get a letter from OFCOM saying that they are concerned that the community radio station might not be able to go ahead because of the supporting company going bust but they’d like my input to see if it can be saved. I have spoken to the council and the other directors and hopefully we can put together a letter back to OFCOM who will then decide if we can do it or not. I was all prepaired to put this community radio station to bed and move on but I figure I might as well give it a shot.

1. Steven Gerrard
2. Mark Pritchard MP
3. The Beckhams (counts as one)
4. George W Bush
5. Davina McCall
6. Ant & Dec (again, counts as one)
7. Bob Geldolf
8. Tom Cruise
9. Robert Mugabe
10. Harry Hill

Ten People I Love (not inlcuding ‘real’ people)

1. Johnathan Ross
2. David Moyes
3. Alan Partridge
4. Dogtanian
5. Frank Sinatra
6. Kelly Brook
7. Ricky Gervais
8. Terry Wogan
9. Damon Albarn
10. Homer Simpson

You’ll notice that three out of ten of the above dont actually exist, thus proving my notion that reality is over rated!

Maybe I’ll tell a story, I need to come up with one first though. Give me a minute…….

We, the people of Britain, feel that our current National Anthem has lost a bit of its sparkle.

When we are confronted by the rare occasion of us winning a medal at the Olympics, we all have to mumble through “God Save The Queen”, well God help us in 2012!

We would thereby like to table the suggestion that we change the National Anthem to something more modern and appropriate and that will re-invigorate our pride.

What we specifically want to see, is that the National Anthem be changed in favour of “Gold” by Spandau Ballet.

Further, we would like our National Olympic Committee to decree that Tony Hadley is the only person permitted to handle medal ceremonies where the National Anthem is played.

We don’t mind what he wears when he does this, but preference is given towards a a gold colured suit.

Sincerely,

Sign the petition now.

The terrorist had got people lying down in on the ground with their hands on their heads and I was one of them. the terrorist stood in the middle and after walking around making sure everyone was facing the floor he kneeled down and started to prepare whatever it was he was going to do. he had his back to me. I heard the whimper of a man, I glanced to my left and it was an armed police officer who had been shot in the mêlée, he motioned with his eyes to the pistol on by his foot and nodded to me.

I was shocked, scared, excited, angry and nervous all at once, I hesitated but only a few feet from me I could hear the terrorist shouting “I’m ready, I’m ready, lets do this” – without thinking I grabbed the pistol and made for the terrorist. I reached out pointing the gun at his head and, just as he turned to me – our eyes met, he was scared, I was scared – only one of us was going to come out of this alive. I turned my head away and pulled the trigger. BANG the gun fired. The air went cold, quiet – deathly quiet and still, I’ve never known it so still.

I heard nothing and focused on nothing but could see people fleeing from the scene, armed police running towards me, weapons trained on me. I dropped the gun and walked over to a seating area. I lay down and went to sleep. The next time I wake up would be for real and a few hours later. I remembered the dream instantly as soon as I woke up and it freaked me out a little.

The next dream I’ve been having is a recurring dream about a nuclear attack, I don’t recognise the location but we hear planes high above us and realise that we are about to be attacked. We hear air raid sirens but cant work out where they are coming from, it’s a dreaded sound. We try to find some sort of shelter, sometimes it’s a real shelter and other times it’s just a basement, one time a room with windows which just blew out and covered everyone with glass. I dreamt once that the bomb went off right above where we were and no one had chance to even say anything, just looked at each other and in a split second we saw the brightest light imaginable and then I woke up.

Thing is with these nuclear attack dreams is that I’m not really scared, I don’t wake up in a cold sweat or get freaked out by them. They just appear to be happening. It really is rather strange.

I went out last night, perhaps overdid it a bit, I certainly spent too much money but so be it. We went to the Crown for some goodness and then ended up in Pussycats (again) trying to avoid eye contact with the latest ‘celebrity’ guest Anthony from Big Brother – that’s his name now, all ex-Big Brother contestants change their name by deed poll when they leave the house, apart from Nick, Nasty and Goody, thick fucker. I don’t really get these celeb nights – a club pays 1500 quid for a z list to turn up and hang around, take part in a usually sexual innuendo filled stage game and get asked a few questions. It’s quite pathetic, yet people flock to see them, fair play to the club it was rammed and they’ll have more than made their 1500 quid back. I just don’t get it.

2. My Car Arrives soon.

I’m kinda fed up of waiting now, my Dad phoned me up on thursday to say that it has been bought back onto the mainland (it’s been in Guernsey) and it now waiting a service, MOT and someone to drive it up to Telford – I cant wait, since I’ve passed my test I’ve only driven three times and I really want to get out a bit more and practice before I even consider embarking on a long journey, say to Ironbridge.

3. Bad Week at work.

I’ve had a shit week at work this last week, I’m getting fed up of doing the same thing over and over again, it’s like working in a factory. I’m not being tested or learning anything new, I’ve been told this is going to change soon but my impatience came to a head on Friday when I kinda lost it at work, I was very angry and I’m really sure why, I think it was just a case of loads of little things building up to the point where something explodes. I’ve spoken to a few people and talked about it and hopefully stuff will get better but I’m at that point where I’m thinking I’m 25 now, the radio stuff looks like it’s fallen through and I need to think about my career, and I know that my career isn’t in a call centre – our office is fast becoming like a call centre, that’s not for me.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy where I work, the people I work with and the environment in general and I’m going to stick it out but I have seen a few positions which look intresting so I might just apply for them just to see if I get an interview, if I do I’ll make my decision then.

4. London

I’ve been to London loads but never really done the tourist thing so next weekend, Stavros, Fulla, Fella and I are heading down to the smoke to have a few light ales and check out some old shit – we’re staying near some church called Westminster Abbey, apparently it’s pretty big. Should be good. Hopefully take some photos.

5. Five things…

I would take on a desert Island with me (excluding loved ones and communication equipment)

1. MP3 player – a man without music is a man without soul.
2. A Bill Bryson book – these seem to be the only books I can read without getting bored.
3. Coca-Cola – I know that Coke are a bunch of evil, twisted bastards but gee I love the brown sugar water.
4. My camera – hopefully it’ll be a nice desert island
5. Good Toilet Paper – I’ve never underestimated the importance of good bog roll.

Your turn.

A freind of mine died last week – we weren’t really close in fact I’d go as far as to say that we probably really got on each others tits when we first met but over a period of about 18 months we became better friends, he was a great person to speak to and I enjoyed having him at work to get things off my mind – he never seemed to mind listening either. He also came to me for advice and I always offered as best I could.

On thursday he was found dead in his flat, he wasn’t yet 30.

I was due to have a pint and a catch up with him in the next couple of weeks, we were also going to talk about me hopefully doing some more radio stuff on the station he worked for. I’m gutted we’re never going to have that catch up now.

Looking back I feel a little bit guilty I was perhaps a little bit quick to judge him initially and had I been more patient with him we may have got to know each other sooner, not that he was the type of person to ever hold a grudge but non the less I regret that.

RIP Rob