Well that was a weekend to nothing – dullest 2 days I can remember in a long time. Went to some absolutely vile bar called Digress in Friday but I had to leave early – just couldn’t take the sight of any more suit wearing wide boys masquerading as office workers attempting to pour alcohol down the throats of only too up for it secretaries. Ack. Anyone who knows me will attest to how grim it must have been if I left early.

So apart from that . . . zip. Except I’ve been mucho enjoying the Embassy World Snooker Championships. I love watching snooker on the telly – it’s so absorbing, and yet strangely restful as well – the perfect sedative, but interesting at the same time. Plus referee Michaela Tabb is hot – a fact which has clearly not escaped the show’s producers either - I don’t remember Len Ganley ever getting the chance to do a little piece to camera about whatever. But who cares. The snooker was also referenced recently be David Attenbrourough as the single most important thing about colour TV, and he has a point. It’s the only thing on the telly that you actually need colour for. Or is it? Answers on a postcard please.

I was going to blog about politics today but I think I’ll leave it for a little while – I’m still too angry. Spoke to my Mother this morning and she agreed with (almost) everything I said. In no time at all we’d worked ourselves into a right little state of agitation at the shiteness of Blair et al. And what’s top of the heap again – oh yes – id cards. They’re not going to go away but I’ll never have one. With Blog as my witness I swear that by hook or by crook this fascist nonsence will be defeated. Whatever the costs. NO SURRENDER.

What a beautiful day. Sun is shining, birds are tweeting, warm, spring has sprung, even the winos on the streets lying in their own piss look picturesque.

OK – that’s enough of that before I start to vomit, let alone anyone reading this. Today I did 3 things I’ve never done before:-

1) I went to Horsham
2) I saw the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace
3) I went to The Photographer’s Gallery

1) Horsham.

I had an interview this morning and it went very well. Provided they get the contract to do the work (and that’s not guaranteed) it looks like I might be in and back in employ again. Let’s hope so. Anyway I had to treck off down to Horsham to see them, though thank God the job is actually in London. Despite my best efforts by drinking too much and staying up late I was up at 6.45am and made the 8.05 so in plenty of time. Horsham seemed like quite a nice place with a nice park, though I was unable to locate anything resembling a coffee shop which was something of a trial. Having said that I was also unable to locat Horsham Town Centre so it might be my fault rather than theirs.

2) Changing the Guard

Arriving back at Victoria about 11.45 I decided that as it was such a nice day I’d walk down Tha Mall. Coming up on the Palace I heard military marching musice noticed large crowds of toursists and suddenly realised the blokes in red coats and busbees marching about mucst be the Household Guards and they were changing. My thoughts on observing this ridiculous tourist attraction age old tradition were :-

1) God this looks stupid
2) I wish I was a soldier
3) Is everyone here except me Spanish or Japanese
4) Isn’t it great to be British – Johnny Foreigner’s got nothing on this
5) God this looks stupid

It was however a beautiful day – the tourists looked happy, the flowers were in full bloom – I saw one teenage girl having her picture taken (I think they were Americans) with the Palace and flowers and Winged Victory glittering in the sun and Guards in the background by her grandparents and she looked so happy it was genuinely moving – at least one bunch of visitors were having a nice time anyway ;-)

I can’t believe I never saw it before - I’ve lived in London for 16 years. It happens every single day ffs. And speaking of people who've got nothing better to do with their time these guys are, well, basically fucked up. Beyond belief. (work safe)

Anyway I wandered on following the departing band and walked up through St James, popped into Mitsukoshi just to feel weirded out a bit and then went on to the West End where I stumbled across the Photographer’s Gallery.

3) The Photographer’s Gallery

They currently have an excellent exhibition of photos taken in China c 1966-73 covering the period of the Cultural Revolution. Those Colour-Red News Soldiers may look like nice boys but I don’t think you’d really want to meet them, especially if you’re a narco-capitalist crypto petit-bourgeoisie like me. Unfortunately they didn’t have replicas of Mao’s Little Red Book in the shop or else I would have been seriously tempted to buy a copy. I’d love to just put it on the desk at my next interview, make no reference to it and see what happened.

Following that I also popped into Cybercandy where I wanted to buy absolutely everything (including Sadie who kindly sold me a packet of Mini Meiji Chocolate) and also made my bi-annual trip to Forbidden Planet where I also wanted to buy everything - with the exception of the shop assistants. Ack. I especially want the 4 foot high ultra realistic model of Aspen from Fathom. Yours for only £795. No really ;-)

Deep down there's a fanboy in all of us - if only we could let him free, the twisted little deviant :)

last weekend Pan went to Jonny & Ronnie's wedding in Yorkshire. I'm not the world's biggest wedding fan - I always find them rather tense but there you go. This one however was somewhat special - not so much in that Pan was ushing (he was) or the fact that it was the best looking wedding I've been to in a long while, but more to do with certain elements of history.

Pan first met Ronnie about 3 years ago. I went to a party and was standing by the door about 2am when a girl who was just leaving suddenly started talking to me. I guess we can't have conversed for more than about 5 minutes but that was enough for the ever headstrong Panster to decide that this was the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with. I had to go off to Mongolia the next week (no, really) but upon my return my campaign swung into action - this involved pestering Phil to arrange a 'chance' encounter - at the Sir Richard Steel if memory serves - and then just taking the bull by the horns and ringing her up. The chase was on, shennangins ensued, and the course of true love was most definitely not smooth.

So, 3 years later she's marrying Pan's old school chum Jonny and Pan is gazing out of the window at the pouring rain while other luckier souls are somewhere in the Indian Ocean. That's life I guess. Can't get that bloody tune out of my head either - "Don't marry him . . ."

So what else is there to say - not much I guess, though I should probably give a name check to Dr Heartbreak - if you're going to misbehave there's nothing like a large party of strangers at a wedding to misbehave at. One of them suggested video taping him in this condition to 'shame' him into behaviour modification. It's a nice idea but wouldn't work, Dr H has no shame.

The panster had a job interview tomorrow with these wankers called shreeveport. This was booked and confirmed yesterday. 30 minutes ago, somewhat concerned at their lack of further communication I rang the agent to find out what was happening. Apparently they liked someone they interviewed today, have employed him and aren't bothering to see anyone else.

I suppose it's a lucky escape as they are obviously total twats and it wouldn't work out between us, but nontheless, pan finds it hard to express just exactly how much he does not like being dicked about like this.

Please feel free to gift them a denial of service attack.

Pan is feeling better. Physically at any rate. Psychologically he is one sick puppy, but let's not get into that at all. Instead here are 10 movies I'd rather cut my own balls off than have to sit through but have every chance of being made eventually :-

1) Virginian Summer

6th grader Danny O'Conner is growing up on the sunbaked streets and dusty back yards of small town early 60's Virgina where nothing ever seems to happen. Along with his best buddy Kip they discover together the joys of skipping school, angling for catfish, and their secret passion - Stella Carter. Suddenly news of Danny's older brother serving in a faraway country no-one's ever heard of brings his world crashing down.

2) Mad dogs

Charlie Gleech has never put a foot wrong. His most successful rebellion so far has been in avoiding his Mother's attempts to get him married off. Working hapharzardly for the family firm from his Holland Park townhouse his life seems destined to settle into comfortable bachelordom. That is until 22 year old Suzi Galletta from Chicago turns up in London. It seems that Charlie's Grandfather promised half the family business to Suzi's grandfather for saving his life during WW2 and Suzi's come to make good on the deal. In no time at all Suzi's moved in and is making changes to Charlie's life and beloved company all over. Will Charlie regain his freedom? Romantic Comedy starring Orlando Bloom and Julia Stiles.

3) Blown Away in LA.

Dag Viper's screwed up with internal affairs just once too often. Now he has only the Labor day weekend to stop LA's notorious 'Steel Wheels' bank robbers before the Captain takes his badge back and his only clue is the sports cars they always use for getaways. They're are crazy, but he's crazier! Patrick Swayze and 50 Cent star in this hi-octane thriller.

4) My Secret Heart

Mel Gibson discovers unexpected yearnings in a touching coming of age movie. Co-starring David Hasselhoff.

5) Back 2 Black

Notorious bigot and neighbourhood pariah Vince Kropotkin is arrested for a racially motivated assault. Rather than send him to jail the judge sentences him to spend the next year blacked up. Just when Vince thinks he's got it licked, Cupid makes an unexpected arrival in the curvaceous form of radical civil rights lawyer Latisha Jackson. Can Vince carry it off or is he going to have to 'come clean'? Comedy starring Adam Sandler.

6) Derry Boys.

An idealistic teenager from rural county Leish is brutalised by his experiences moving to 1970's Londonderry.

7) New York - New York

4 young men graduate Yale in the class of 72' and move to the Big Apple to make their mark. Forced apart over the interveneing years they are unexpectedly brought back together 30 years later. Will they have achieved their dreams or will their reunion bring them each a surprise in one form or another? Complex interpersonal drama with an all star cast featuring Robin Williams, Bill Pullman, Jeff Bridges and Jeff Goldblum

8) The Red Delta

With only 72 hours till the start of the new offensive a critical and heavily defended hill is still untaken in Major Schneider's campaign. Field veteran Lieutenant Brady O'Michigan, Schneider's West Point contempory has just rotated in with a new platoon of raw recruits and Schneider is forced to make an unpalatable decision. Overcoming his personal issues he decides it wiser to send the unseasoned troops on this hopeless mission rather than lose experienced soldiers. Faced with an impossible task O'Michigan must obey his orders but cannot betray his men in the process. Vietnam bloodbath starring Kurt Russell.

9) Ball Game

Jay Batttersby is a big time hitter for the White Sox, and he likes to remind everyone around him just what a big shot he is. However when his season suddenly hits a slump and the team slides into a losing streak all his assurances in the world can't keep the coach off his back. With a new crop of college players threatening his pre-eminent position Jay has to dig deep into his past to find the teenage wonderkid that used to be - with the help of his old high school team mates, some of whom are distinctly less than impressed with what Jay has become! Don Johnson stars.

10) 172nd Street

Jimmy Palugia used to think his accountant Dad was the best in New York City. Every Saturday they'd go to watch the Yankees and afterwards have an ice-cream at his Uncle Seve's parlour. Returning from College in California Jimmy walks into a nightmare - his Brother Benito has been shot and killed. Swearing revenge on the hoodlums who killed him Jimmy drops out of college to find the perpetrators. However his investigations seem to keep leading in unpleasant directions - back to the uncles that surrounded his childhood, and to his own Father. Crime drama depicting one family's disintegration following the death of a son starring Robert Deniro, Matt Damon and Robert Downey Junior.

I guess what I really can't stand if the above is to be believed is nostalgia. But I knew that already. After all F. Scott Fitzgerald is one of my all time pet hates.

I've been using my flatmate's laptop for the last few days (resistinging the temptation to fill it up with the vilest pornography imagineable) and it's driving me crazy. Why do people do this to their machines? Not only does it continuously try to run MSN Messenger and Kazaa but every broken link directs it to some hideous salesware masquerading as a search tool called PerfectNav. This SUCKS. I'm closing down popups and javawindows and download prompts CONSTANTLY. It's the surfing equivalent of a Mujahadeen hijack.

Actually "The vilest pornography imageineable" would be a pretty good name for a blog. You'd get a lot of random hits anyway ;-)

Just made the schoolgirl mistake of assuming that windows would stay up long enough to not avoid losing my post. Bill Gates - you cunt. It's always the same - whenever you lose a whole bunch of stuff it's always because IE crashes not because blogger goes down or whatever. Just goes to show - write first - post second.

Anyway - I'm dying. Not literally (I hope) but this cold has now reached the utter misery stage - every joint feels like it's filled with battery acid, and the coughing is about to start big time. Bad man. I spent the night semi awake, drifting in and out of consciousness, my every dream seeming to revolve around going into an exam not knowing it, with no notes, and no hope. Then I'd wake up, realise it's all long, long over, breath a sigh of relief, collapse back into the land of nod and be straight back outside the gym again clutching a pencil case and about to throw up. It's 16 years since I took my A levels and I'm still having nightmares about them. Some people have been prisoners of war and got less fucked up by the experience than that. Just goes to show - education is bad for you.

I did have one slightly different dream - I was in a cinema / bar (avoiding someone/thing) and all the people in the film came out of the screen and surrounded me and than knealt down and called me 'Shining One'. Now that's a dream I can get behind. Only one to make any sense anyway ;-)

The worst of being ill is that you don't want to do anything - eat, watch TV, converse, blog, read, self abuse, nothing appeals. Actually my flatmate accused me of having 'Man Flu'. God I could have killed her. It's fucking irritating to be accused of being a hypochondriac just because you're a bloke. Admittedly most of the worst examples of people who retire to their bed of pain at the first little sniffle tend to be men (although also generally the sort of blokes who have wives/girlfriends who will then spend the next 3 days running around after them like flustered mother hens - so more fool them) but it's by no means a universal. Let's face it, ladies, you're not *all* delivering a baby, digging the allotment, wallpapering the bathroom and councelling a suicidal mate at the same time are you?

In fact if I had a quid for every time I've come home to find one of my flatties ensconced on the sofa with a duvet shrieking like a banshee if anyone suggests turning the heating down a tad or - heaven forbid - cracking a window, well, I'd have the deposit for a flat of my own wouldn't I? And they keep asking me questions - about things I really couldn't give a shit about - shall we move this shelf? shall we throw out this tupperware? shall we repot the basil plants? By my waving hand and eyes raised to heaven shall ye know my answer : If you want to do it - then just fucking do it, stop involving me. I'm not going to complain if I don't like it, let's face it I'm probably not even going to notice so if you care that much about it one way or the other just fucking do it and shut the fuck up.

Ah the battle of the sexes. All this boils down to is that I feel like death on a stick and I'm getting no sympathy because both my flatmates have chronic hangovers as a result of having been out getting pissed every night for days while I've been stuck in the flat with no money dribbling snot on the carpets and filling my bed with soaking wet tissues. And not in a good way. And even worse than that - fm1 has gone out with my fags. Not that I want to smoke one right now, but it's the fucking principle. She knows I'm a doley and I have *NO* money - certainly none to be going buying packs of cigs with. The one packet of tobacco (cost : £2.19) that has to last me the whole fecking week, and she's wandered off with is. And I know she's going out on a super bender this evening and going to Berlin tomorrow morning so I won't see her till Monday.

What's wrong with people?? What's wrong with me more like?????

Pan is ill. His nose is clogged / leaking and he cannot stop sneezing. His throat is raw, his bones ache, and he has hearburn as well. (Probably unrelated but when everything else is going wrong one more things seems pretty debilitating). It's lucky I'm not a parent - the kids would be unfed and locked in cupboard while I lay on my sofa of pain ignoring their pitiful cries to nurse myself back to health.

Also strangely not hungry. Which is good after my weekend o'gluttony. Was my parent's ruby wedding anniversary so no excuse for not making a pig of yourself but I truly pushed the boat out in the cause of honouring them through the medium of lard loading. Eaten over the weekend :-

Soup
Salad
Chops
Biscuits
Toast
Melon
Prawns
Roast Beef
Roast Potatoes
Parsnips
Cauliflower
Trifle
Meringue
Chocolate Cheesecake
Oranges
Redcurrants
Rhubarb
Cheese
Pickles
Fruit Cake
Crisps
Olives
Peanuts
Pistachios
Chorizzo
Roast Chicken
Cabbage
Swede
Broccoli
New Potatoes
Coffee
Tea
Champagne
White Wine
Red Wine
Gin (& tonic)

I feel fat just thinking about it. Since then though all I've eaten is 2 slices of pizza a couple of roast beef sandwiches and a couple of crackers with pate.

I could really eat a jam doughnut though . . . in fact anything sweet would do. This is odd I don't normally crave sweet things at all. I blame the disease . . .

I'm beginning to think that blogs fall into two main categories :-

1) blogs by people who are happily married / shacked up

2) blogs by people who are bitter twisted loners and will probabl;y remain that way because they are incapable of ever forming proper relationships.

This is fine but at the same time one soemtimes wonders why people who don't smoke, consider two drinks to be 'getting wasted', are strangers to the CCJ and the bailiffs and have wonderful emotionally fulfilling relationships are writing anyway if they're that fucking happy. Nothing depresses me more than the tale of a happy anniversary camping trip with the spouse and a couple of dogs. I want to read about misery and loneliness - the depair of the lone blogger tapping away through the night, eying up that 200 bottle of diazepam and thinking about being eaten by cats.

Tolstoy wrote that all happy families are basically the same but that unhappy ones are all unhappy in their own way, and this basically holds true for bloggers as well. There just seems to be this groundswell of people who's blogs seem to be about telling the worls how happy they are and what a terrific contented couply time they're having. Fortunately these people are easily spotted as the top of the page will always contain some information along the following lines :-

About Me: Happily married for 7 years, no kids, 3 cats, Mr Plunkett, Binky Betsy & Sir Sitsalot
Favourite Memory:When [Insert spouse's name here] first came into that 7-11 when I was buying a slushy and threatened to get the clerk fired because the enchilladas were infected with e-coli.
Best Ever Day:My Wedding day.
etc etc etc

Stop this sort of thing immediately!

What do you think you look like??

Well this is nice isn't it - I'm actually ahsamed of my own levels of self indulgent cumudgeonlyness. I dont actually hate people because they're deliriously happy and can get an erection over the thought of a Argos Catalog - but really:

keep your happy thoughts locked up where they belong - dysfunctional borderline psychotic misanthropes only please

Mood : Cranky

Hurrah. Today i feel like shit again. It's been so long since I felt this ropey it's almost like an old friend. I am referring, of course to that feeling which might be referred to as a hangover. seriously I'd almost forgotten what they feel like. And the answer is - not good. last night went out with maccy and there was much lager. And fags. all of which she very kindly paid for. thanks Mac. On arriving home I found fm2 cooking everyhting in the freezer. No I mean evereything. She'd decided to defrost it. SO we sat there for 2 hours drihking neat 60% Vodka and ate :-

1 x packet 'tater tots
1 x wood pigeon
1 x packet mini chinese style sticky ribs
1 x 500g packet giant atlantic prawns
3 x ice pops
1/2 x loaf bread (toasted with Marmite)
3 x portions mysterious sheperd's pie like freezer fare
4 x remains of different tubs of ice cream

Suffice it to say I didn't feel too top this morning. Had to get up to come over to Phil's to pick up his keys as he's off to Japan. he's going to a wedding. his cousin runs a ski company in japan and spends 6 months of the year there shacked up with some beautiful babe, skiing. As you know how much I love Japan (which is a lot btw) you can guess how jealous I am of this guy. Also a lot.

Anyway - it was nice to see that with approximately 3 hours to go before his plane took off Phil was still undressed and not unduly stressed by this - I'd have been having a nervous breakdown. North London - Heathrow with only 3 hours. Yikes. but then flights are about the only thing I'm always (if left to my own devices) on time for, excepting meeting people in the pub - always on time for that too. In fact my idea of hell woudl be having to make a really important flight but being stuck in the company of an inveterate dawdler who kept finding one last thing to do before leaving. Just thinking about it makes my blood run cold.

mmmmm ... Marmite