The Return to Form Black Magick Party

A Pop Levi reference to open, what more could you wish for?

For those who aren't aware of him by the way, he's great fun: see? and lovely to boot (he once invited me round for breakfast, and to egg his manager's car. Alas, a tip to California for such an adventure was unlikely at best).

But in all seriousness I thought it was high time I posted something on here.

So I'm still working, in several ways. Both in gainful employment, and in my attempts to gain said employment in London. Admittedly this is a fairly new venture, and some of you won't be aware of these attempts, but it's one of my current priorities. This particular aim has lead to some interesting conversations: I've been asked why I'd want to live in London, but frankly I think this is a strange question. It's the capital of our country, one of the busiest cities in the world, and there's nothing you can't do, see, hear, get or find in London. It's like a hub for the entire world. I've never quite understood people who want to be away from the metrop'. If you're of an older persuasion, and are of a more settled disposition then I suppose I could see why London wouldn't appeal to you, but frankly, anyone below the age of 40-ish who dislikes being amongst the buzz and the lights astounds me.

Different strokes for different folks one supposes...

What else? Winter: I've never had a problem with winter. I have a substantial collection of coats, and frankly, in summer, I can hardly wear suits and whatnot. However I would prefer this darn season to be over. Whereas up until this point in life I've never had what one would call anything of a commitment which I must keep. School? Not a problem, I'll just get on with it. University? Lecture at 11? Get up eventually and drink tea before considering going in etc.

However, the introduction of a job into my otherwise blissful routine has forced my hand (and sleeping pattern) and I must rise at around 7 every day. While many of you may think this selfish of me to complain; many of you have long held down real jobs, and some of you hold down real jobs which mean you rise before the ungodly hour of 6 every day. Myself, I was unaware there was a 6am except when you enter it form the other side. Either way, rising on a morning when darkness still reigns outside is nothing short of horrendous, and that my life has been improved by the fact that I can now leave work while it is light (without being dismissed for not adhering to the laws of the land of E.On) makes me feel that my life may be in dire need of improvement because it is currently lacking anything by way of excitement. Literally, this is the pinnacle of my existence of late. Maybe I should develop a drug habit, just to liven things up a little...

Some housekeeping:

I've moved house.

Other things: I appear to be going on a walking holiday in Snowdonia with my colleague/mate and boss. I'm not sure how I ended up becoming my father, but apparently it was always going to take hold I suppose. I swear at the age of 21 people should be going on holiday to Spanish speaking islands and drinking shots off their friends' genitals and getting stabbed. Admittedly I seem to have no idea what people my age do, but if the media is correct, then this is exactly what they do.

I'm not sure what this post was about. I think it was an update on my life, but then again it may have just been a collection of paragraphs of me moaning and worrying.

Then again, looking back, this appears to be the main focus of this blog.

I promise to write more often from now on. It's not as if I'm busy these days really is it? Maybe I should address that.

Anywho, it's been nothing short of wonderful/cathartic/a good waste of some time this evening while the alpha males are at a sporting event.

If you're reading and we haven't spoken of late, do give me a shout. I'd be interested to know what you're doing, or at least feign interest in such a thing. I also take requests for anything you'd like me to whine about.

Until next time; keep watching the skies.

Play us out Ladytron (Pop Levi's old band): good night.

I make a poor correspondent. Telegrams would be so much more effective on me.

Evening all.

Sorry. Honest. But all will be revealed in due time. There's another project in the pipeline which I'm all excited about (with good reason) and that may take up my time I would otherwise be not devoting to this.

But in all seriousness I'm part of something new, bigger and all together more professional at the moment (not my job no, that's not even an exciting thing to tell you). I intend to start doing this again, but I will also be whoring out this other project like nobody's business.

I hope you can all forgive me for now and enjoy the coming fun.

Hope to see you all indulging my new habit.

The adventures of my idiot friends!

I received a telegram this morning containing the most wonderful tale, which I felt I must share with you all...

Here follows the tale of Captain Haddock and The Sirens.

"The most peculiar set of events has just befallen me and I am in a semi form of shock! The story starts in a most ordinary manner when I was strolling through the Norwich Mall after a pleasant meander! As sauntered through the mall a sales lady walked up to me and asked for a moment of my time . . . little did I know that she was springing the trap. So not wanted to be a prat I obliged by walking over to her stall. She asked me to put my hands in a dish and started washing my hands with this crystal stuff. Then she dry s them and gives the jargon on their 'extraordinary' properties. Of course I'm half dazed . . . like a shy wilder beast being caught off guard by a Lioness. Then she says if I have a girlfriend and again not too look a prat in front of this pretty lady I say I have . . she's called Grace (please don't ask how this happened because I really don't know!) Anyway the sales lady washes my hands and pulls out this fancy nail kit gizmo. She proceeds to polish my nails whilst we small talk. "What do you do for a living?" Again the I make it up not to look a prat, "Oh, I'm a writer!" "interesting" she says, "what do you write about?" and I reply "oh only History". The young lady (probably 25!) smiles and ask's me what my age is . . . "oh 23!" and then "what does your girlfriend do?" and I reply "oh she's in marketing". Again I'm hopelessly lost and putty in her hand as the lies flow. As she finishes polishing my nails (which now look like the manicured nails of a Turkish Bagshandi [Hooker in English!]) she asks me how long I've been with my girlfriend and do we live together, "oh around six months and yes we live together!" Again it feels like I've been taken over by a alter ego. She reply s to that "oh its still fresh! How lovely!"

To cut a long story short I end up buying some hand-cream that I will never intend to use (because I'm not a bloody pansy) and a snazzy nail polishing set. And no I'm not telling you the price I'm too ashamed of myself. Anyway this sales lady had such a memorizing effect that I walked off feeling as happy as a fox whose graduated from the University of Foxing-ton with a Masters in Cunning. The outrageous thing is that I feel happy because the lady wishes me good luck in a career that I don't have and hopes the girlfriend who doesn't exist is pleased with her little surprise!

I'm sort of in a state of shock! I thought I was good at shouting Bolshevik abuse at Capitalist pigs. But this women was good she made me make up a fake life so I bought her items. The worst thing is never did I feel angry at her for being a Capitalist Hoar. It felt perfectly natural!

(I was going to make this into one of those morsel's people say on facebook you know like "Oh pygmy, the vampire pain inside my heart is twisted into a gazillion pieces . . . I long for thy fangs to bite into my tender bossom of fleshy happiness!" but the ruddy thing would not fit . . . apparently you can only put 427 words up which is crap because one should put a whole 2000 word story up if one wants to!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)"

Just a quickie if you don't mind?

"My life is changing in so many ways..." - Neil Young, A Man Needs a Maid.

So this is more of an update than anything else really. A lot's been going on and I haven't had a chance to write for a while.

Where to start? Ok, well university ended, and for better or for worse, I had to leave Cambridge and return to Ashby. Many a melancholy day was suffered.

Had Ben's birthday which was a riotous storm of incredible consumption and decadence (I believe this is a worthwhile description and believe he'd approve. Maybe even gift it the Charles Atlas Seal of Approval. Who knows?).

Job hunting came and went as I begin gainful employment tomorrow morning. I have a spiffing new black suit with which I intend to impress and charm anyone and everyone with. If they so wish it or not. I feel a suit lends me both the impressive and charming air as if by magic.

I spent a week at Benter Parcs. In this week we managed to watch Inception twice, the various trailers 97 times and listen to the soundtrack while performing mundane activities (and shaking martinis) around 438 times. It lent drama and epicicity (oh yes) to every situation. Getting dressed was suddenly a race against time in which consequences would be dire if not completed before the kick. Getting undressed became the same but also sexy. And consequences would never be the same again.

Now I await my father, as I intend to relocate to his abode for a while to get settled in my new job in Nottinghamshire. I'll try and keep you updated as to the whethertoos and whyfors of my life in the near future, however, I fear I shall be busier than I could normally anticipate.

Having run some quick diagnostics, I can confirm the injoke density on this post to be not only the highest yet, but to rival most of the blogs on Myspace. Congratulations me.

I hope this found you all well,

Cheerio!

PS: More detailed and rambling updates in the future, I promise.

Photographic evidence is permissible in court.

The photos from the super lil road trip we took are here, and there's some pretty ones here including one perfectly illustrating the ability of Johnson and I to talk absolute nonsense. I believe in the final photo we are arguing over coffee. Spectacular aren't we?

Mad propz (that felt awfully wrong) to Flo who is the photographist of these.
Find her and more of her at her Flickr.

The Mavericks are(n't) playing (thankfully).

With a recent upturn of the weather once more in the, now clement, environs of Cambridge I has doubtless dawned on you all by now that summer is in full swing. Tis a season of BBQs, wearing linen, parties going on longer than is strictly acceptable, not to mention an excuse to drink almost all day, and to indulge in the delights of Pimms and gin and tonics to an excessive degree. It all rather makes me want to play cricket, even though I usually have no care for the darned sport.

Anywho, I thought I might just fill you all in on my life so far, in the thinly veiled hope that someone will find it vaguely entertaining, thus validating my need to have a blog in the first place. However before that, I might suggest that someone buy me this:

I believe the words I'm looking for are "immediately if not sooner".

But obscure, mildly homosexual wishlist aside, what has been "going down"? Well after my final exam, I attended the psychology BBQ with friends, and wandered off into town to get so horrendously trashed I was held up by 3 people at one point I'm sure, while I attempted to get service.

After that it's been balls and parties left and right.

Summer ball was a rather wonderful success, with booze a flowing, and a wonderful equilibrium being attained by all, having to judge alcohol/food intake alongside bumper-cars/mechanical bull riding time. Thankfully messless...

This was followed by some small downtime hanging out with Flo as she visited Cambridge, and chilling before the advent of May Week.

May week, for those not in Cambridge/Oxford to witness it, is the week of all the CU and OU balls, garden parties and larger socials. This equates roughly to a week of open bars and the excuse to dress up.

Cue the Gents' garden party, a day of May Bumps (observed from a pub), the World Cup drinking excuse, The Wyverns' Garden Party (Magdalene College Drinking Society) complete with Jelly Wrestling, the need to get drunk, Brad's BBQ (not a huge event, more sort of... A friend's house warming), then just an evening of watching Trinity Fireworks (which I missed, but drank in honour of) and then a morning of gin fuelled breakfast. Tonight is the John's College May Ball and despite my lack of ticket I anticipate Matt and Ben fulfilling my quota, while I visit Doom HQ.

Where is this all going? Am I just bragging (of my alcoholism) or does it have point?

Well if I'm honest, I'm trying to say a farewell to Cambridge. My current lack of a job has made it that I will find it impossible to continue to live here for now. This saddens me greatly. This has been my home now for three years, and I feel that it should continue for now... Alas, I am, as of yet, unable to source work. C'est la vie.

I hope only that I can return soon enough, and re-indulge in this hedonistic life which university has afforded me. Frankly I've had an excellent three years here, met some wonderful people and can't really face leaving it all. Much disappointment all round but thanks to you all for the time.

I feel proud to have said goodbye to the ol' place in this fashion.

Cheers Cambridge,

Elliot.

Wikipedia is not only my god, it's also hilarious

Just a little update today having seen the greatest Wikipedia article of all time about Greg Staples a Sheffield based artist whom Ben (housemate) has had dealings with, and built a website for.

This is the article

Never have I seen a better entry than the line: "Staples best known for his work in the weekly British comic 2000 AD, especially on Judge Dredd. His son, Brian Staples, is known as a fine fellow."

I have never been happier. I can only assume Brian is the author of this particular article...

Next update will tell you about the hilarious man we heard on the way back from the One O'clock Shoppe.

Stay tuned for that absolute gem.