iknowyouknowiknowV3.5.2

It's too hot to be outside.

See this. It says hi of 41. That's 41 DEGREES CENTIGRADE.

Don't believe me?

... and now I'm going to go to Field day

I might die. You can have my shoes.

[posted with ecto]

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I am very happy to discover how awesome Bill Hicks is. I know you've all heard him before, but I hadn't (really).

Go now and listen you dumb fucks.

Listening to Pro Life from the album "Rant in E-Minor" by Bill Hicks

[posted with ecto]

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"You have the honor of being addressed by the Brigadier. Now get out of my solar system." Old friends come back, and it's all good, and my Doctor is back.

I might have said it before, but this BBC audio thing is BRILLIANT. Go and buy now. It has keep me entertained for a few hours on the flight, and deserves to be more popular.

And Bush and Blair are in it. Hehehe.

It's a pity that this direction wasn't explored more, rather than the farting Aliens.
"I've been dead before" brings a tear to your eye...

When I grow up, I wanted to be a Timelord. Now I want to be a God of the Fourth as well.

Listening to: Part 5 - Death Comes to Time from the album "Death Comes To Time" by BBC

[posted with ecto]

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You might have noticed that every now and again I like to reinvent myself.

Not really going to be that so much this time, more finishing the last regeneration. Links on the side are in place. People are hooked up. We grow. Formal reckless launch sometime in the new year. Sorry things are taking time, blame Millie for being amazing and gorgeous. Yes I prefer her to you lot.

[posted with ecto]

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Yesterday was the greatest day of the shittiest year of my life.
Cheers dariln' you are awesome (that is, you are awesome if you are reading).

So for everyone else not being as happy as I am at the moment, there is a tale of woe if you click to continue...

There was a young lad that didn't really like anyone.

And then he did. Sorry to fool you into coming here, but I just wanted to see who clicked the more buttons.

Cheers cookie. Enjoy a photo of me being creative.

Listening to: Freak On A Leash from the album "Greatest Hits Vol. 1" by Korn

[posted with ecto]

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There was something poetic about an exchange between some of us this morning.

Let me set the scene. For reasons best left alone I am in bed half dead and very tired. Also quite possible naked (there may have been pants, but that is all just detail). Millie is with me. She is wearing a dressing gown and drinking tea, which is a wonderful way to start the day. We both have laptops, and are every inch the 21st century couple. Joel walks in. With his laptop. Sits on the bed and starts chatting to us.

"What are you doing?" he asks.
"Looking for Christmas presents for people" I reply
"Anything interesting?" he presses...
"I'm at Anne Summers" Millie replies.

I have never seen Joel move so fast. Not even when we were surfing and we thought there were sharks (turns out there were Dolphins, so that's OK). He grabs the laptop from Millie, which is strange because he SWORE that touching a Mac would warp his mind and blister his skin.

"Wow"
Is all we got. Please study his expression. If I took a photo I'll use flickr to publish it later, but it is amazing. So intense.

So we are looking at costumes...
"What's your favorite?" Millie asks.
"That one" he says pointing at something very plastic.
"It's very plastic" she frowns.
"Yes. It. Is."

and that people, is Joel.

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I know I've said it before, and I know I'll say it again. I pretty much hate you guys.
All of you.
But I quite like puppies? Who'd have thought it?

In the new year I am going to do something and funny and amazing. Then I'm not going to write about it. It'll be my own little joke, because I'll not be sharing anything.

Haha

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I'm killing time on the tube here, so I'll be as brief as possible to avoid any potential confusion.

I hate you. I hate your little face, with it's chirpy little smile. It's 10:30 in the morning, and it's still to fucking early for you to look that goddamn happy.

Stop it. Stop looking at me or I will punch you.

[composed and posted with ecto]

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Soooo it's late, and I'm on a train home.

Alone, after a fashion, which has confused me almost as much as it confuses you, no doubt.

Not too sure what that's all about really. Still I'm sure there is plenty of oppertunity to discover wicked little secrets over the next week.

Where was I? Ah yes. The train. It moves. This is almost unique, for this week there have been many times when the trains have not moved, but that is another story for another time.

Much like whatever I was about to say.

[composed and posted with ecto]

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I know somebody.

This somebody is fictional, and I don't want anyone to read anything into this. Please, really don't... this person doesn't exist, and too my (limited) knowledge, neither does this situation.

Think of this somebody as a hypothetical.

Hypothetically speaking, there might be this guy that you once enjoyed drinking with. He might have, hypothetically speaking, gotten himself into some shit.

Now if I'm in shit, I might not like to talk about it. Hypothetically speaking, of course.

So this guy might need a hand, and not really want to, you know, hypothetically talk about it too much. So I might lend him a (hypothetical) hand, in the form of an amount of money.

Not an amount to get excited about.

If the person couldn't (hypothetically speaking) pay it back, it's certainly not an amount to get in the way of drinking with me anymore. Chatting used to be good. It would be silly to (hypothetically speaking) miss some leaving drinks next Tuesday.

So I'll see you next Tuesday then, eh?

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There's no light in the hall. There's no glimmer, no ray, no fickle beam wondering across the far wall, spilling a tiny bit of the old ambient, enabling a body to gain some form of perspective one his or her place in the world. There is nothing. There is just darkness.

Or not, I mean darkness is a sort of something really, isn't it. I know people who can take great comfort from the dark. Great comfort, greater warmth. Not here, because there is no light, and you cannot have any dark without the light.

There's no sound here either. None at all. Normally you need something like the quietly subdued frantic chirping of a cricket (or cicada) to measure the absence of sound. You have to have these contrasts to truly appreciate what you are comparing. Nothing here. The quiet is like a roar, you could insert some clichÃ(c) about the silent jungle waiting for the predator to strike, only you'd have to be way more interested in the silence than I really am to bother.

You see there is feeling here. Oh yes.

Emptiness. Great emptiness soaks the very floorboards. Emptiness rules here. A tyrannical hold extended over the tactile sense. Stabbing, biting, pricking hurting. Tiny little shallow cuts of nothing renting your flesh.

And cold. There is such cold here. it's so cold that it hurts. Like having a wart dry-iced at the Doctors. Burning, without the unpleasant bacon smell, which is frankly a relief, because this places smells rather faintly, and pleasantly, like flowers. Oh and honey, I'll let you have some honey as well, because I am kind like that.

At least I think it's flowers and honey. It's nice, I can tell you that much cookie.

Even so, you want to go home.

This place exists inside all of us (I think, it's a bit like the white hot room or whatever that Morrision chap was going on about). This is a rather nasty trick played on us on behalf of our creator (who is, of course yourself ultimately, so you have no-one else to blame), but can be a boon. Or so I'm told.

Personally I'm a greater fan of blowing the fuck out of it.

Here's how. Take one tequila. That's ONE tequila, no more, certainly no less. Do not add salt and lemon, as that's for pussies. Consume tequila.
Take another tequila. Again that's ONE tequila, no more. Do not add salt and/or lemon. Consume.

If you are doing things right, then the white hot room should be whiter and hotter now. This is because alcohol is a depressant, which is a bit of an arse all round really.

What I want you to do is drink through the depressed threshold, until the mind is blind with agony. This is called "alcohol poisoning" and/or "brain damage". No fear, it is perfectly normal. Everyone has a little bit of damage that they carry around with them (most people call this "baggage") why not make it brain damage? The brain has always been one of my favorite organs, after the confusing and often misunderstood appendix.

A correctly damaged brain can mean many things, but most importantly it will result in the destruction of the white hot room, or interesting redecoration of it at any rate. If you are really, really lucky you might have a breakdown, which is when the walls in the room crack, shedding light on everything that's in there.

Which is unfortunately yourself, but hey... we can't all have everything...

Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go and enjoy my little breakdown. Get to really know myself, and maybe, just maybe... maybe I'll get some sleep then.

[composed and posted with ecto]

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Someone posted this on a board I frequent:

Yes. That's what I think of you people.
Haha.

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It’s curious to see how many people thought they were jedi knights. They’re not. I mean, hey, they don’t even have lightsabres.
At the same time I noticed how many people thought they were on the council of 12, belonged to the XIII, and was of the brotherhood of light.

I wish I could deceive myself as well as they could, I really do, but I’ve become addicted to the truth of falsehoods.

I’m grinning manically at this stage. You may want to stand back to ensure that you don’t get anything on you.

I operate a strict policy of not getting involved in my own business. This means that I am involved in yours. I’m sorry, but there it is.

Some people think this means I like to gossip. Not true. I like to offer morsels to gather more information. I am a keeper of secrets, and the things I know about you can curl paint.

I know about the hamster.

I know about naked limbo.

I know about the $2 hookers.

All of this is to say, ECTO has a bunch of posts on the mac that will be uploaded when I make it home this weeken. Enjoy them, for they contain happy news.

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Kitten on Drums
Originally uploaded by Kristian is the awesome.

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Looking through some old photos, it would appear that I was BORN to play drums.

[posted with ecto]

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So Milly and I went to see The League of Gentlemen are behind you at the Hammersmith Apollo today. Nice building really.

There was laughter and fun and frolics and cross dressing and swearing. It was very English, or so I thought.

They were also taping it, which was a pretty cool thing. It was even cooler when things didn't work and they managed to keep us laughing and you should have been there.

Listening to: Newborn from the album "Asleep In The Back" by Elbow

[posted with ecto]

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I'm watching the Young Ones again. I think it's been something like, uh, 5 years since I last watched any.

This is a crime. A terrible, terrible crime and I should be whipped and beaten like the dog I am for such terribleness.

I had forgotten how marvelous it was. I think it's important that I introduce as much random shit in my house as possible now, because I too want an Atombomb in my kitchen. Certainly safer than our fridge.

Having said all that, I'm slightly worried about the state of life that allows me to find ancient comedy so hilarious. Not that this is that ancient, but, uh, it may have been made before I can talk. Then again I'm young and fuck me this show is about us.

We are living a brilliant British comedy.

That leaves some people out, but I like what I've done there.

Oh, and I've done plenty of flickr sorting recently. And people, please... learn to read. It's quite easy to distinguish between MY photos there, and someone else's. So Dad, no, I don't have a cute little dragon tattoo.

Listening to: Soldier Girl from the album "The Beginning Stages Of... [UK]" by The Polyphonic Spree

[posted with ecto]

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So I've not been writing recently.

Yeah. Not so much I can say to that really, other than, uh, yeah.

This is why:

Beautiful, isn't she.

She's actually a princess from another dimension with terrible, but awesome powers. She makes everything good and pretty and happy and drinks with me, so is perfect.

So, uh. Yeah. Not really a lot else to say.

Her name is Amelia. She is cool. She likes cats. I think. Well she seems to like me, and that's the closest thing.

More later, but I'm not going to kiss and tell..

Listening to: Soldier Girl (of course) from the album "The Beginning Stages Of... [UK]" by The Polyphonic Spree

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Yeah, because Grant and I are very sensible, we've destroyed Joel's careful decorations.

Grant and I have the power to turn fairy lights around the window into a giant penis.

This is what happens when you suddenly start drinking at 3 in the morning.

We did have some help from Nimmo, but had to scrap his idea of using a white pen on the end, as that's just childish.

[posted with ecto]

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There is something I didn't write about but wanted to.

So we saw Korn. It was, well, surprisingly good.

No really.

There were bagpipes and grunting bass and plenty of booze. It were wonderful.

Here are us happy campers:

We fucking rocked it, then went on for some more rocking to some club where there was ROCK.

Got The Life from the album "Greatest Hits Vol. 1" by Korn

[posted with ecto]

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