More Great Stuff

In brief, here are some more examples of classic, highly professional movie making, all freely downloadable via the public domain. Ok, so technically virually anything can be downloaded freely over the net, but these are pretty quick and easy.


Mad Monster
A man scientist, disgraced by his peers but also a genius (naturally) injects his dimwitted servant (doesn't he know he has rights?) with a syrum that turns him into a werewolf. Anarchy, dumb people who can't figure it out and lots of running about from one place to the next, often not quite in the nick time, ensues. The bit where he sits and has a fantasy arguement with the ghostly apparitions people who wronged him is good. Keep an ear out for those meaningful references to the war.

The Brain That Wouldn't Die
Mad scientist interested in mutation and all that lark is involved in an accident alongside his beautiful girlfriend (who doesn't mind that he's a nutcase). She is decapitated, so he takes her head back to his lab in bag, puts in a dish of liquid to keep it alive and goes on the hunt for another woman whose body he can steal and stick the head back on. Meanwhile, his girlfriend's head develops psychic powers and begins to communicate with the experiment he keeps locked up in the cupboard...

a>Invisible Ghost
Bela Lugosi is an old man (not a mad scientist) who misses his dead wife. The secret he doesn't know is that she was having an affair with another man and was killed in a car crash on the way to see her new boyfriend. What he also doesn't know is that the gardner found her body alive and is keeping her locked in the basement because she's a bit nuts. And he also doesn't know that she keeps escaping and everytime that sees her in the garden, he goes crazy and very very slowly goes to kill someone.

And if you thought that all made sense, just try watching till the end. Lugosi's performance is so effortless that it's, well, effortless. Oh and there's no ghost, although if it was Invisible I suppose we wouldn't be able to see it or know it was there.


The Corpse Vanishes
Bela Lugosi is a mad scientist (and all is right with the world) must extract the blood of young brides to keep his ailing wife alive. On their wedding day, he sends them a beautiful orchid which knocks them unconcious and then kidnaps them with the help of dwarf assistant. If you want to know exactly why any of this is happening, watching the film won't actually help. And I'm fairly sure they're not corpses when they vanish either.



Bela Lugosi Meet A Brooklyn Gorilla
According to Martin Landau who played Lugosi in the movie 'Ed Wood' this film made the Ed Wood films look like masterpieces in comparison. You have been warned...

The Pain Of It All

Haven't done much this week other than spend each day curled up in a ball weeping to myself. Although I did find the time to review the ass off this documentary.

But I thought I had problems. That's nothing compared to what the Martians have to deal with.


Their children have become dull and stale. They want to breathe life into them again. Just look at the boring little bastards*.


So they send their mighty robot Tork to kidnap Santa Claus and take him to Mars to entertain their children.


Will their plan succeed. Can the authorities put up a fight against their mighty martian technology. And will the whole plan be stopped by that dastardly martain Keevon, boo-hiss


And let's not forgot that outrageous jokester, Droppo. His wacky antics are always getting him into trouble.


For all this and more (yes there is more**) why not download 'Santa Claus Conquers The Martians' here for free. You won't be disappointed.

*One of the children (which ever one is the girl) is actress and Dancer Pia Zadora, who is famous in America and can be seen dancing at the end of 'The Naken Gun 33 1/3' until Nielson buggers it up and takes off her wig. I also recall hearing a story about her being in a production of the Anne Frank Diaries which was so bad that when the Nazies arrived someone in the audience shouted out "She's in the attic".

**Just wait until you see the thrilling Polar Bear chase scene!!!

Tales Of Woe: The Blade 2 Incident

It was late 2002 and I was still working unhappily at WHSmith’s in Windsor, working on customer services and taking care of all the CDs and DVDs and such like. It was half-term and a dark and miserable day and I was trying to do all my entertainment stuff whilst helping to look after the counter, as per usual there wasn’t enough of us to all the things that needing doing.

I drop what I’m doing to jump onto the counter as queue’s are forming with the intention of quickly clearing the queue so I can get on with what I need to be doing. I’m quickly getting through them, and filling their empty CD and DVD cases with the discs locked safely behind me.

Finally the queue clears and I try to get back on with what I’m doing. But then a lady approaches me.

“Excuse me; I’m from the Trading Standards Authority.”

She’s holding a Polaroid of a girl with a Blade 2 DVD.

“You just sold this DVD to this girl. She’s 14”

Blade 2 is an 18 certificate.

I went to fetch the manager. The three of us go up to the office. The lady is actually very polite, and apologetic. I tell her I honestly don’t remember selling it to her, I was just trying to clear the queue. It’s half-term, a perfect time to stage a sting.

Feeling a bit shell shocked I returned to work, without the bollocking I was expecting (a rare bit of decent management) but had to come in specially to see a lawyer the following week, where it was explained that I could get a warning, be given a three year caution, where, if I re-offended, I would be in serious trouble, or get taken to court. The second two I’m told almost never happen, and certainly wouldn’t happen to me, more likely that they might go after the company. The lawyer seemed to remember a case of an old lady working at Tesco who had let an underage girl have a DVD even thought she was underage but this was the only time a caution had been issued.

Besides, there’s supposed to be a warning on the till when you sell an 18 DVD, we tested Blade 2 and the warning was absent. So if anyone was going to be f***** it was the company and not me.

About six months later I was let off. I’ve never watched any of the Blade films but I gather I’m not missing much.

The Phobia of the day is couloraophobia: The fear of clowns

No Cheque Blues

Where's my money?!?!?!?!

Each day I dash to the doorstep as soon as I hear the post land on the doorstep. And each day when there's nothing there, I die a little inside.

And to make matters worse I've just started to receive junk mail. I don't want another f****** credit card!!!

Share certificates were apparently missing and have to re-issued, putting things back a couple of weeks.

Example of Irony of the Day: I over heard a grey haired man well over forty discussing with a younger woman the philosophical nature of reality and perception whilst wearing a pair tight leather trousers....

Good luck with that.

Photos

Here is me climbing a tree in Epping Forest:

Yes, yes I am holding tight.

Here is french multi-instrumentalist Yann Tiersen playing at the Scala in London:


And this is Ro-man, enjoying the delights of the million dollar bubble machine:


Samual Goldwyn Quote or 'Goldwynism' of the day: "Anyone who would go to a psychiatrist ought to have his head examined!"

100th Post Spectacular !!!!!!!!!!!

Woo-hoo, Today I celebrate my 100th post. Dave Paul's Place is a year and a half old. Let's take a look back now to that first precocious posting:


Tuesday, November 01, 2005
My first posting

This is my first post onto my new blog
I'm doing this in a lesson and I can't think of anything to write. But should I not make a total balls up of this I may start to post quite often.

I want sleep now

Awh Bless.

And how things have changed. Back then I was so naive and innocent, full of ambitions, dreams and without any facial hair whatsoever.

Now look at me, unemployed, depressed and spending so much time in the same cafe on the wi-fi network that I can clearly be seen in the 'for sale' advert in the newspaper. Beard still looks good though...

I peppered this post with a bunch of wacky links, enjoy!

Not Now

I got a phone call last Frida:, it’s a woman calling from Barnados asking me if I’m still interested in the Shop manager vacancy in Romford, a position I applied for two months ago. Having been woken up at the ungodly early hour of 10:30, I said yes and was invited for an interview the following Friday, also at 10:30.

Of course I don’t bloody want the job the anymore, since I ought to be getting a substantial cheque (I wait in anticipation for the postman to arrive every day, only to have my hopes crushed each time) the point where I was desperate for money has passed.

So I invented a whole back story about how I’d been offered a position as a trainee script editor at Granada and even though the pay wasn’t very good, it was really a dream vacancy and that I was going to take it, so I would have a reason for graciously turning down the interview. But she just ticked me off a list and wished me good luck.

Anyway, this is Ro-man, star of the film ‘Robot Monster’



He has wiped mankind with his incredible Calcinator ray, destroying humans but leaving our buildings and resources in tact. He now lives in a cave (?) with his amazing bubble machine and, while gesturing only with his right hand, is told that one family has survived and is immune to the ray.

Conveniently, this family live on the other side of the hill. But Ro-man develops feeling for one of the human woman (having vapourised all the others) and suddenly feels the need to experience emotions “To be like the hu-man! To laugh! Feel! Want!”. Will this jeopardise his mission to wipeout mankind for good?

Yes, yes it will.

“I cannot - yet I must. How do you calculate that? At what point on the graph do "must" and "cannot" meet? Yet I must - but I cannot!”

From A to B

This information was passed to me via Mr Andrew Fleming.

If you go onto Google maps and ask for directions from New York City to Paris, France, it will indeed provide them.

Here are instruction 19 through to 24:

9. Take the exit onto I-90 E/Mass Pike/Massachusetts Turnpike toward N.H.-Maine/Boston
Partial toll road 56.0 mi
56 mins

20. Take exit 24 A-B-C on the left toward I-93 N/Concord NH/S Station/I-93 S/Quincy 0.4 miles
1 min

21. Merge onto Atlantic Ave 0.8 miles
3 mins

22. Turn right at Central St 0.1 miles

23. Turn right at Long Wharf 0.1 miles

24. Swim across the Atlantic Ocean 3,462 miles
29 days 0 hours

Almost Half-baked

I’ve spent the later half of this last week in Bristol, where I saw folk band Herman Dune, saw Ogley and watched the only film that has ever made me crack. This film is called Almost Famous and it literally reduced me to a giggling idiot.

The film follows the adventures of an intelligent young music writer who befriends Lester Bangs and goes to interview the fictional band Stillwater for his magazine and ends up going on tour with them and writing the article for Rolling Stones magazine. What follows is a film that really ought to be an engaging coming of age tale set at the crossroads both of the boy’s adolescence but also that of the band as they emerge into mainstream stardom.

It’s a shame it’s all bollocks.

For starters the boy in question is 15. He may lie about his age but you’d have to be blind or stupid or deaf even to realise that he’s under 16. Furthermore, the band are so dull it’s hard to imagine anyone wanting to listen to them on stage never mind go back stage and listen to the lead guitarist and lead singer bitch at each other. And it’s all so watered down, considering the wealth of great rock band rivalries and havoc, the best these can do is squabble over the guitarists growing stardom and detachment with barely a ‘fuck’ swapped between them.

Of course there’s lot of drug and alcohol abuse, surely. Well kind of, we sort of see little bits of it, it’s certainly mentioned, but never seen and only once done too excess. The craziest thing that happens is that the guitarist takes some acid and jumps off a roof into a swimming pool. True, that is a pretty stupid thing to do, but by this time you just wishing that the self absorbed half wit would smash his head on the bottom. Just why any of them would want to confide in this fifteen year old boy lord knows, but it would explain why there is a distinct lack of anarchy, after all, they are technically babysitting.

But perhaps the most annoying aspect of the film is the dippy hippy chick who follows them around and has a relationship with the guitarist. Named Penny Lane she looks after the young boy and inspires him with inspirational saccharin twaddle and sleeps with the guitarist. No doubt she’s supposed to represent innocence or something, even though she’s about has all the depth of a bottle cap. It’s not her innocence that makes her believe that he’ll leave his wife for her. She’s an idiot. And just how do her and the other army of groupies manage to afford to follow them and stay in all the same hotels is anyones guess.

And I have I mentioned the boy is 15. His underage sex is nicely glossed over but then again so is everything else. The plot holes are plentiful. Despite pretending to be much older than he is on the phone to Rolling Stone, when he turns up at the office they don’t bat an eyelid. But then again, the staff are so cardboard the worst he’s going to get is a paper cut.

It was the films insistence on carrying on that destroyed my spirit. It would not end. Penny Lane takes an overdose and sadly survives. The band are involved in an air crash incident, also sadly surviving (during which one of the band hilariously admits he’s gay and their nasty new record label manager admits he killed someone in a hit and run accident – he’s ssoooo corporate evil) and on and on and on. The guitarist keeps going on about what’s real – well not this pile of sentimental horse shit.

Well I say that, after seeing the film I naturally (well naturally for me) ran it through google and wikipedia and discovered that not only did the film win an Oscar, but it’s semi-autobiographic. Director Cameron Crowe was a teenage journalist for Rolling Stone, at 16, and was known for being highly likeable and getting on with band who were hostile to the magazine and journalists in general.

But I’m still not buying that this film is anything other than sentimental tripe. Crowe went on tour with The Allman Band, a band which survived the deaths of two of its lead singers in separate motorcycle accidents, and began to fall apart with the help of multiple drug addictions. The other supposed inspiration for the bands warring (well, hair pulling and scratching) was Robert Plant and Jimmy Page, who I’m pretty sure did more than squabble a bit who was the main focus of the band and whether one of them was truly committed. Apparently Penny Lane exists too, though the character was inspired by someone else – a muse apparently, an inspiration blandness, definitely.

So if Cameron did really draw on his own personal experiences, he must’ve drawn upon the dullest ones, and written about all the dullest people in them. I dunno, maybe touring really is a lot duller than we’re lead to believe, and that bands like Zeppelin were the exception. Still, this sugar sweet pile of mediocrity was named the best film of the year by Roger Ebert, who I can only assume was suffering from amnesia and forgot all the rockumentaries (and possibly all the films that were actually good) that he’d previously seen.

Well, it may have won an Oscar but it wasn’t a commercial success, so suck on that!!! And Crow then went onto direct Vanilla Sky, an even bigger waste of time. But at least I got through it without turning into a giggling wreck. But it was ripped off from another film mind.

It's Those Little Extras That Count

Yawn

I'm still waiting for something to happen. 50 application (estimate) sent out to no avail, sigh.*

I'm going to be very wealthy in a few weeks time, but alas, I don't know what to do with it? Suggestions have so far included, buying a house, starting a magazine and travelling the world to 'find myself'. Knowing my luck I'd probably find a xenophobe.

I also find it funny when people tell I'm a 'lucky bastard'. I didn't win it*...

Sigh. Even the retail therapy is failing to raise those spirits. I shall have to try harder.

This link is more amusing than this post

*I inherited the money after my Dad died. This subtlety seems to have escaped someone - I would've put it in the post but I didn't want to sound like a martyr or be blase** about it. Idiot.

** I don't know how to add the accent.

The Latest From My Mother

I received this from my mother last week:

"Osama Bin Laden sends George Bush a coded message to prove that he's still alive.

It reads 370HSSV 0773H

Bush is naturally baffled and gives to Condi Rice and her aides, but they can't decipher it either, so it gets passed from the FBI, the CIA, The NSA, NASA, but it can't be figured out.

They contact MI-6. Within a minute they give a reply:

Ask the President to hold it upside down"

There has since been another since, but it's far too racist for me to repeat here.

She had a tough childhood.

Me On Wheels

I went to a roller disco the other week, in honour of her majesty Pamela Smith. I didn't fall over, I just spent all night looking like I was just about to. Going to the toilet was a challenge.

Damn You All

The Winner of the quiz is Pamela Smith. That's because none else entered, so balls to the 2 or 3 people who didn't bother. They know who they are....

She wins a fabulous copied DVD - woo.

The answers (not that you b******s care)are:

Simon Templar - The Saint
Archibald Leach - Cary Grant
Robert Bruce Banner - The Incredible Hulk
Farrokh Bulsara - Freddie Mercury
Peter Sutcliffe - The Yorkshire Ripper
Oswald Chesterfield Copplepot - The Penguin
Eric Wimp - Bananaman
Joseph Merrick - The Elephant MAn
Tom Riddle - Lord Voldemort
Béla Ferenc Dezső Blaskó - Bela Lugosi
Iosif Vissarionovich Dzhugashvili - Josef Stalin
Robert Tewilliger - Sideshow Bob
David Robert Jones - David Bowie
Paul Metcalfe - Captain Scarlet
David McDonald - David Tennant
Shawn Corey Carter - Jay-Z
Robert Dylan - Bob Dylan
Daniel Handler - Lemony Snicket
Jeff Albertson - Comic Book Guy
John Taylor - Chaka Demus (of pliers fame)

Congratulations to Ms Smith.

I had my first webchat today. While I was downloading music I was contacted by 'Crazychick22' who lives in Cardiff and 'go clubbin, shoppin, go out for food and work lol'. I didn't sustain her interest for long.

Can't even pull over the internet, sigh.

The Not Particularly Big Quiz

In the desperate search for content, I've decided to start a quiz.

Who are these people better, or more popularly known as?

There is a sort of prize, should anyone enter. I will copy, for the person who gets the most correct answers, a DVD of their choice from my large collection (not porn), assuming of course that my copy software accepts it.

Send your entries to davepaulnixon@yahoo.co.uk

And anybody suspected of googling or wikipeeding for answers will be disqualified (at least one of the answers is deliberately difficult)

1:Simon Templar
2:Archibald Leach
3:Robert Bruce Banner
4:Farrokh Bulsara
5:Peter Sutcliffe
6:Oswald Chesterfield Copplepot
7:Eric Wimp
8:Joseph Merrick
9:Tom Riddle
10:Béla Ferenc Dezső Blaskó
11:Iosif Vissarionovich Dzhugashvili
12:Robert Tewilliger
13:David Robert Jones
14:Paul Metcalfe
15:David McDonald
16:Shawn Corey Carter
17:Robert Dylan
18:Daniel Handler
19:Jeff Albertson
20:John Taylor

Your chances of winning will be drastically increased if nobody else enters.

The Factosis Institute

Dave Paul's Place is proud to announce the launch of a charitable cause which has for too long been ignored by the mainstream conscious.

The Factosis Institute is dedicated to aiding the prevention of a potentially lethal condition. As it say's in the introduction:

"If It's Interesting, It's Dangerous.

Factosis is a serious condition. It's caused when a person learns a fact or piece of information, that is so colosally interesting, that it causes an influx of trivians to the nerve centres of the brain, causing complete cerebral shutdown. The Factosis Institute is dedicated to introducing you to such dangerous pieces of information, so that they can be learnt and studied in a controlled environment, and not learnt unexpectedly by unsuspecting members of the public."

So read carefully my friends, take your time, prepare yourself mentally, and read these important fact and only then will you be protected from learning the unexpected and ending up, like one man I spoke to, who, on learning that Sean Connery was once arrested for speeding by PC James Bond, collapsed to the floor and flailed his limbs about like an octopus on roundabout.

Be safe, be carefully informed.

The Factosis Institute

Fact 16

Factosis Level - Strong

Although technically Pac-man can be played forever, as the levels continue to be generated, the 256th board is considered 'the final level'. Due to a glitch in the game, the board appears split, half normal, with the other half a garbled mess of text and letters.




Although it has been claimed that someone with enough knowledge of the game could navigate the maze and complete the level, it is considered impossible to complete without cheating.

Rumours persist however, of an American boy, Jeffrey R Yee, who reportedly scored 6,131,940 points, a score only possible if the player has passed the Split-Screen Level. An acheivement which supposedly gained him a letter of congratulation from President Ronald Reagan.

In September 1983, Chief Scorekeeper at the Twin Galaxies Intergalactic Scoreboard, took Pac-man on a tour of the East Coast to visit video game players who claimed they could get through the "Split-Screen." but all attempts failed. Later, in 1999, Billy Mitchell, expert player of arcade games, offered $100,000 to anyone who could provably pass through the Split-Screen Level before January 1, 2000, there were no takers.

Tales of Injury 3: The Final Woundings

1996 - Broken Leg So, I was trying to get home early, so I could do my paper round. I splashed out 35p on the bus (those were the days) and went to cross the road. There are dual roundabouts at Meir Heath crossing, there is a Lollipop lady who crosses people over the island between the two. I crossed over the first half without any trouble at all. The Lollipop lady then stops a juggernaut lorry for the second half and then moves toward the 2nd lane. I confidently follow her into the road, and assuming that all traffic has stopped, stride toward the 2nd lane. But I step ahead of her. A Volvo, not seeing either of us because of the lorry, drives past. I walked into the side of it as it’s passing by me. My left leg strikes it, I spin on my right leg and fall onto the ground. I don’t know that I’m seriously hurt, so I try stand up.

That hurt.

I have broken my leg and dislocated my ankle. At hospital, they plan to snap my leg back together. They put me under, but discover a broken piece of bone in the way, so they remove it. I later discover my body's complete aversion to anaesthetic and spend the whole next day vomiting. When the police came to get a statement from me, they noted that there was absolutely no mark on the car whatsoever, not even in the dirt. I didn’t stand a chance.

2004 - The Mystery Hernia I don’t know how I got a hernia. Maybe it was from hulking cripplingly heavy suitcases to the station that Christmas and stubbornly not taking a taxi because it was only ten minutes walk. There was no moment when I was in agony. I first noticed the injury while playing car ball ( A game where you try to throw a football into the open windows of car as it drives around in a circle. On getting a ball in a window, you get to sit in the car to defend it) when I felt a pulled muscle sensation above my groin.

So, I visited a doctor in March, who said I’d probably got a hernia. He made an appointment for me to visit a specialist. The appointment came through in June, where a specialist confirmed it was a hernia, but because I was finishing University that week, I couldn’t have an operation scheduled. So I arranged to see a Doctor back in glorious Stoke, who reiterated that I did indeed have a hernia. So he arranged for me to see a specialist who, in September, told me once again that I had a hernia, and put me on the waiting list for an operation. I got this appointment the following February with 7 days notice; they have to treat within 6 months, so they had to clear the list and if I couldn’t make it, I might have to wait another 6 months, I had a ticket booked to London for that day, but that’s another long and irritating story. I didn’t like the anaesthetic any more then than the previous op.

If anybody any suggestion about what I should write about in future, please feel free to suggest.

Tales Of Personal Injury 2

1993 - The T.B Injection: Nobody likes having an injection, but I took it like a pre-pubescent man and thought nothing of it. And it was sore afterward, and I did scratch a bit. What no one could've predicted was that I would come out in a large rash and grow a scab the size of a satsuma - though this provided a handy shield against punching, but the rash wasn't pleasant. The nurses were puzzled and I was sent to hospital to take a variety of tests and no one really seemed to be sure what was going on but it seemed, by this time, to be in remission, so there was no fuss and in the end, there was just large amounts of anti-septic cream to spread over me on a regular basis.

1995 - Broken Arm: To be perfectly accurate, I did in fact, break the bone just below my thumb, but as this connects down the entire of my arm, I got the full plaster treatment. I would like to say I earned the injury by playing rugby, but I didn't even get a far as the field. I was running to the field (in a bizarre show of enthusiasm) when I skidded on my football boots, fell, and landed on my arm. Of course, no one thought it was serious and I was viciously mocked and remember being so upset that I cried - plus the fact it really hurt. Apparently this bone is really hard to break, and is more commonly broken by the elderly.

The Requested Tale Of A Near Miss: I was at the seaside with my Mum and Dad. I was sat on a wall by the beach; there was pavement on either side of the wall and I was casually making fun of my Father's baldness or beer belly, I can't remember which, then he would chase me a little. When he got close, I simply rolled over the wall. Unfortunately, the pavement on the other side had changed into steps, to lead down to the beach below, and when I rolled over, there was an approximately 15 - 2o foot drop to the pavement below. However, my fall was broken - by my own arse. I landed on my backside and was surprisingly unharmed. I did hurt a little, but if I remember rightly, there was not even a bruise. I was totally unmarked, unlike the time when I fell on the spike of a metal log basket...

Next time - My altercation with a Volvo at a roundabout, and the mysterious hernia...

In the Year 1996...

Mathematics: 34% Level 5, David has worked steadily – but he must learn to ask for help when he needs it, instead of worrying, which just rocks his self-confidence.

English: 60% Level 5, David always shows interest and I have been pleased with the quality of much of his written work. He now needs to concentrate on organisation + presentation.

Science: 69% David is a very pleasant young man who works hard with great interest. Perhaps some attention could be paid to his presentation skills.

Technology: David has proved to be a conscientious and diligent worker who has tried his best to produce a very good DT/business project. Well done David.

P.E.: David does find this subject difficult but he must persevere more if he is to make progress.

I.T.: David is a quiet pupil who works very well and has achieved a good level of IT capability. He shows interest in the subject and has produced some excellent work. An* very good exam result.

French: David needs to put more effort into his work as I find him lacking in motivation. Assessments in reading & writing are quite good but listening & speaking need more work. Presentational skills need some attention.

Geography: 71% A very good result. David’s work has made very good progress this year. He still needs to improve the presentation of his work. David also needs to improve the quality of his written work.

History: 71% David always puts great thought and imagination into his work, and he has made a major contribution to some creative group presentations, he should now work on the detail and presentation in his writing.

Art: 63% David shows great enthusiasm for this subject. He has a very positive attitude** and is not afraid to be ambitious in his work, looking forward to further progress next year.

Music: 79% A pleasing result. David works with a quiet interest in all aspects of this subject. He should not underestimate his abilities.

R.E. 92% David works steadily in class and has a good understanding. The quality of his written work tends to let him down. Excellent exam result, well done.

Form Tutor Comments: A good report that David has earned through hard work. He should be pleased with this good result. Sometimes David lets his relationships with fellow students get on top of him. A growth of self-confidence will help out here.

Headteacher***: David has obviously worked very hard for the success that he has gained this year, and for this he must be praised. In year nine he must (next few words are unreadable) he concentrates on his own performance and improves this by setting targets suggested within his report. Keep up the good effort!

*Her mistake not mine, and the sad thing is that she spent her time typing that comment and aligning to fit in the box when she printed it because she was the IT teacher and thought it best to type. This same teacher would later be discovered to be having an affair with one of the DT teachers, this was shocking not just because he had a wife and kids, but also because he could do better.

** What?

***This was actually written by the head of year, the headteacher was probably too busy working on her hair-do****.

**** It was an impressive and intricate hair-do.

Tales of Personal Injury 1

Because the most interesting things that happen to me each day tends to be what I pick from beneath my toenails, I've decided to relate some of my past tales of anti-glory, from my archive of tales of woe.

This week, I begin the telling of the 7 occasions that have sent me to hospital.

Sometime in 1984 - Cracked head open after falling out the back of a van.

Naturally I don't really remember what happened, but apparently I'd just learnt how to run and was darting around the back of my Dad's van (it wasn't moving) and just ran out the back and landed head first onto the gravel.

Sometime in 1985 - Cracked head open again.

My brother was chasing me around the showers of a swimming bath, so guess what happened? He's always had it in for me...

Sometime in 1988 - Growth pains.

Admitted to hospital where I lay in bed with my leg in a sling and raised due to the weight attached to it. I seem to remember that I was only supposed to be there for a few days, but this was extended for 2 weeks, I was not able to appear in the Christmas play, though I was out for Christmas. Didn't get a class card, but I good a hardback book about the nativity from the teacher, who I didn't like. She was called me stupid for colouring my hair in green in picture, not realising my colour vision deficiency.

Coming next week: The TB injection fiasco and the breaking of my arm during rugby lesson (not as cool as it sounds)

I am accepting request for tales of misfortune to be retold here should anybody have any favourites.

Fact 15

Factosis Level: High. Medical Advice: Place head in fridge.

Kenneth Pinyan, also known as Mr Hands, regularly engaged in sexual activity with full size stallions, in particular one known as Bullseye. He would often film these acts and distribute them.

He died on the July 2nd 2005, his colon was ruptured during filmed intercourse, where a stallion had anal sex with him. He died of peritonitus in hospital hours later.

The incident lead to the illegalisation of bestiality in the state of Washington, as well as filming such acts. The man who filmed the incident was later charged with tresspassing because the video was shot on a neighbours land. Despite thorough investigation, no evidence of animal abuse or cruelty was found.

Pretty sick I know, but it was a choice between this and the story of how three people died on the set of Twilight Zone: The Movie, which is very unpleasant. The death of someone who died for being a sick, stupid bastard, however, is ripe for amusment.

I need something better to do with my time.

Al-Qaida Place Bounty on Kofi Annan

Picture submitted by Helen Elizabeth Ward

Guardian F***wits

As part of the 2nd place victory gained by the website I used to help run www.bloc-online.com, the authors of the site were awarded a cheque for £250.

Minus the expenses from going to the awards, this money was going to be spent on a bar tab as part of a final party for the wonderful folk on my course.

However, the geniuses at the Guardian made the cheque out to www.bloc-online.com. Bloc-online is not actually a person. They seemed to be under the impression that this was the kind of operation that had a budget or an account to deposit said cheque into.

So, because I'm generous, great and a one day candidate for canonisation, I assumed most of the debt for the time being.

This has left me £160 out of pocket.

So imagine my delight on hearing that the cheque had been reissued, had arrived, and was ready to be cashed in.

One slight problem.

No one's actually signed it.




What a bunch of w*****s

Blog Entry Postponed

This weeks blog entry has been postponed until something interesting happens.

The likelihood of such an event is not considered likely.

In the meantime I offer you this gratuitous link

And another

OH DEAR LORD NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I've just heard the horrible, horrible news.

Police Academy 8 is cancelled, on indefinite hiatus because of a lack of funding.

NNNNNNNOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

In case I don't make it through this, I just want you to know that I love you all*.


* Not you Phil.

Survived

Got through Christmas. My plan to comfort eat myself stupid worked perfectly.

Have spent most of the festive week downloading things and then transferring them to DVD and then copying the DVD's so both me & my mum have a copy. This has taken over my life. At night I think about it: What speed has it downloaded, how many re-writable discs do I have left? Can I re-download the episodes that won't burn? It's been at 93% for a long time now, has it frozen? I need my life* back.

I have to get back to Cornwall. I hate Stoke.

But what the f**K am I going to do for New Year.

Phobia of the day: Emetophobia — fear of vomiting.

* I define my own terms.

The Spirit Of Christmas

Unbelievable as it was, I was actually having a smooth train journey. Travelling back on a Friday and just before Christmas, everything had been comfortable and not too badly crowded.

But then, as I reached the final leg of my journey, and my last change at Birmingham, I yanked my case from the others in the rack, dragged it outside, checked that I had everything, and discovered I did not have any of my train tickets - part of which was my open return ticket.

People were crowding into the carriage, how was I to retrieve my ticket? I spoke to a man on the platform (a knob), he tells me to tell the train manager at the other end of the train, which is too far away and would require me to leave my case. I try to get into the carriage but the crowds won't disperse and I have to get off before the doors close.

All I have is the first part of my ticket used as bookmark in Tom Baker's Autobiography, so I can at least get all the way to Stoke. When I get there, I go to most well hidden customer service counter in the world, and plee for their help in getting a replacement ticket. But their computer system is down, the train can't be contacted, and the tickets can't be replaced because they were my responsibility. I plead with them, this is a £70 ticket, can they at least take my number and get in touch with the train when they can.

Instead, the guy there says he'll do what he's not allowed to do, write me out a replacement ticket, because it's Christmas.

Proof if any that the Christmas spirit is still alive. And that not everyone who works for Virgin trains is a w****r.

Days Of Loaded III

DAY SEVEN
Sorted and distributed the mail like a pro. Given my best job so far: I went to collect the editor’s dry-cleaning. Later I got to make a photocopy of the whole new edition of the magazine. Then I started researching kiss and tell stories for men who used to go out with famous woman. It was not a good day.

DAY EIGHT
Somehow ended up in the pub with all the writers, and found myself sat awkwardly to the editor and the deputy editor. They were talking about the editor’s friend who works for the sun, where behind the scenes the serial killer had been dubbed THE SUFFOLK-ATOR, but not even the sun was brave enough to put that on the cover.

They asked me what I was up to and I told them about how that afternoon I was going to be filling up boxes to send to the archive – I got to make the boxes in the evening. He said I ought to be doing something better (the man whose dry cleaning I collected).

DAY NINE
Helped to clear out the cupboards to help do their Christmas sale of unwanted promotional stuff. I hulked a heavy trolley to the floor below where the selection wasn’t spectacular. When what good things they had were sold, I was sent back to get the editor to empty out his office. We found a sandwich toaster, full sized Predator head and then there was this stereo. The editor didn’t want it, the features editor didn’t want it, did I want it? All ill will suddenly forgotten…

My computer password expired. While I waited for it to be renewed I asked if there was anything I could do that didn’t involve a computer. The deputy editor suggested I should go through the newspapers and try to find anything that might make a good story, and if I found anything, I could write it. My big chance had come at last!!! Unfortunately, a moment later, one of the guys from the picture desk sent me to Oxford Circus to fetch some DVDs they needed screen shots from. When I returned the computer was working again and I went back to my research into robots. Sigh.

DAY TEN
Finally got all the bloody table top game pictures and most of the desired camping gear was delivered and completed. They said they’ll post the stereo too me. They seemed genuinely pleased with me when I left, although I’m sure they say the whole ‘keep in touch’ thing to everyone. I was told to arrange a return visit with the office manager and although I’ve been pretty sarcy about it, it was worth doing and I might get trusted some new tasks if I go again. They might even let me feed the fish.

Days Of Loaded @

DAY FOUR
Day four is a blur. It involved research on Shanghai I think, and there’s a blur of elevators and floor I took things to and from.

DAY FIVE
Sorted and distributed the mail. Sent out to buy the ingredients for an expensive Christmas pudding – just for a photograph, no pudding was being made. Found out that Marks & Spensers at Marble Arch had the biggest food court but they don’t sell things like flour!!! or sugar !!! So I go to Selfridges next door where I can’t find anything cos they’re in funny places – raisins in the Mediterranean section? Still all the ingredients are not there and the Selfridges manager tells me to go to Waitrose in Marylebone high st. Is there one there? Is there fuck!!!

DAY SIX
Sorted and distributed the mail. Whisked off to Leicester Sq with one of the writers to buy a chefs hat and apron, then to his home in North London to collect some supermarket curries, then to an award winning curry house in Hackney where they were tasted by an expert. I took the photos. Then back to central London to buy an £8 curry (no rice) from Selfridges and then back to the office. As a writer I feel very proud to be getting a photographers credit in the magazine.

Days Of Loaded

DAY ONE
Sorted and distributed the mail. Got security pass. Forgot which floor was I going back to and had to go back to reception to find out. Researched the life story of Jimmy Savile. All the features team went to pub at dinner and did't come back. Had nothing to do. They sent me home early.

DAY TWO
Sorted and distributed the mail. Sent down to reception repeatedly to fetch models to the office. Sent to local newsagent to buy £40 worth of porn to help compile their porn-a-likes section. Phoned companies to try and blag free equipment for a travel adventure feature. Then compiled a list of ten table top games and the websites that sold them and then contacted each one to get a photograph. Savile unused.

DAY THREE
Sorted and distributed the mail. A nice feature writer wrote me a map of the office to show me who was who and where they were sat - this will make things much easier in future. Researched strange valentines gifts. Chased up the equipment enquiries and table games photo's - three now retrieved. May get two free backpack and might be allowed to keep one. Researched more valentines gifts - may have gone overboard. Researched the life and times of the rapper Ludacris.

Oh and I passed by the way.

The Oncoming Onset Of Panic

Tomorrow is results day. The culmination of a whole years work *

Now I know I've passed, but what about that elusive Distinction?

My current average is at 65%, so I'd need about 78 + to acheive it. So likely, it isn't. Although for my last assessment I got 68% for my portfolio and in theory it should be better this time around, it does seem unlikely. It will probably be frustratingly close...

However, this Monday I start my work placement at Loaded magazine. As you can no doubt tell from this blog and my general colossal sexual prowess that I'm right in the middle of the Loaded target audience and will make for an extremely valuable member of their team, although I do make a shit cup of coffee.

*this is my own special definition of the word 'work'

My Mother...

My mother sent me this joke the other day:

Ron the rooster was the biggest, toughest, meanest rooster in the world. He spent all his time beating up all the other animals on the farm. One day he picked on the farmyard cat. Unfortunately for the rooster, the cat beat the crap out of him, which proves NO MATTER HOW BIG THE COCK IS, A PUSSY CAN ALWAYS TAKE IT*

You just, you don’t want that from your mum, you just don’t.

I’m gonna have to have a word with her again….


*yes, she did write that in capitals.

Me + Train = Bad

One: Falmouth to Stoke-on-Trent

When my train arrived at Truro I was surprised to find that the first three carriages had all the windows blacked out and were all unavailable. It turns out that an earlier train hadn’t made it all the way down to Penzance and they’d had to get what ever train they could.

The night train.

All the passengers, this was a Friday so we are a talking a lot of passengers, had to squeeze into three first class carriages. So I spent the next two hours sat on a bike rack desperately needing the toilet because the closest one was out of order and there were dozens upon dozens of people between me and the next one. The conductor personally handed out complaints forms along with pre-paid envelopes to send them. How kind.

Two: Blythe Bridge – Sheffield.

You’d think when no matter which direction the train is going, I could still get to my destination, that I would be okay. The train toward Stoke leaves five minutes earlier than it used to so I miss that one. Then the next one, half hour later going toward Derby, is cancelled without any warning. Blythe Bridge is bus stop style station with an information point which can’t be trusted: the point said nothing about the cancelled train only that the next train to Stoke was going to be ten minutes late. It arrived twenty minutes late, a jolly hour and twenty after I arrived at the station.

Three: Stoke-on-Trent – Truro

No bad incidents but because we were taking an unusual diversionary route, they’d overestimated the time, so we waited ten minutes at Bristol and Twenty at Taunton because the train was too early!!!

I was in Sheffield to see Muse. They were understandably excellent. I stayed at a friends of a friends house, he’d given us the key but not told us about the alarm. After half hour of noise he phoned back with the code.

BUTTON UPDATE
Well my new button is still firmly fastened, I was genuinely distraught however, when the coats other button came off during my trip. DAMN IT

My Achievements

Sadly, www.bloc-online.com - the website put together by myself & my fellow, now former*, students at University College Falmouth, did not win the Guardian Student Media Award - we came second.

I also failed to win, or come runner-up, in Radio 4 sketch writing competition.

But just when I thought I was a failure...

Whilst participating in the Penryn Seven Stars pub quiz, me and my fellow teammates came across a real stinker in the picture round.

We were given a selection of pictures which represented certain phrases or words, which we had to decipher. For example:

This is Tow(e) truck






Having got almost all of them right, we found ourselves struggling on the final picture.



What on earth was the answer?

Becoming desperate, I began to scrape the barrel with suggestions like Re-cow-very or Catt-ill.

But what was the answer? Oh yes dear reader, I got it...

Music (moo-sick)

You see! I am a winner after all!!!

Of course we only came joint third on the whole scheme of things, but I was the only person who got that answer, so I rule!!!

ENFORCED AMENDMENT: I have been asked to point out that my professional writing colleague, Ruth Underwood, made a significant contribution by getting all the answer correct in a test on the sign language alphabet**

I also managed this week to successfully sow a button on my jacket. It's not the same colour as the other one but another acheivement nevertheless.

*they took away my HMV discount - bastards

** Happy now Andrew

Adventures In a Budget Hotel In Shepherds Bush

I decided to treat myself while I was in london and decided to stay in a hotel. I went onto Yell.com, found the cheapest hotel with the best customer rating and booked it. Even then it seemed too easy.

I got the Euro-Hotel in Shepherds Bush. 3.9 out of 5 and £35 a night - sounded okay.

So I get there on Friday and check in, the room doesn't have a wardrobe but it has a big double bed and lovely large bathroom with a massive bathtub.

But it's supposed to have wireless and I need to get on the net to get direction to the public records office. So I tell the guy in reception and he moves me to another room. Bad idea

I should never have excepted it but because I was being a nuissance I did and I immediatly regretted it. The room was right next to reception, in fact it was the old reception. There was a little window looking out into the lobby with a blind pulled over it.

So that night it was noisy, and the cramped little room was boiling despite having the windows open. The radiator was only warm, how could it be so hot? Of course no ones drained it in a long time, the bottom half is on full.

So I complained and got moved again. This time to a room in a different part of the building, nice room again, even has a fridge. No wireless but I just want to have a quiet room and no fuss.

The next morning there's a knock on my door at around 9:40. The boilers in my room and it needs to be turned off. Guy comes in and leaves. Then I just happen to be about in the evening relaxing and man comes in again to turn if back on.

The next day the knock comes at 8:20. Obviously this p****d me off rather a lot.

On my final night I attached the following note to my door.

To Whoever this may concern

I do not intend to be woken up

AGAIN so that someone can get to

the boiler. I have bolted this door

and do not intend to allow access

until 9:45 at the earliest. Do not

knock you will be ignored.

I was not bothered that morning and nobody came to turn it off before I left my key in the door and left. Shame really, cos it ought to have been quite a nice place.

F**k I'm not a student anymore

Last Friday something terrible and deeply shocking happened - I stopped being a student.

It was a harrowing affair. I handed in 40,000 words to an office and suddenly it was all over. My right to sit and my arse and do fuck all - gone. my ability to get a pound off shades night club in falmouth - my ability to get a pound of the falmouth arts cinema - remains as long as they continue not to check the card properly, my 10% HMV discount - fraudulantly still active.

So I had a weeks holiday to recouperate. It's hard work not working very hard.

Here is a list of things I tried to do but failed to.

London Dungeon - half term = massive queues, the book in advance fast track queue was longer than the normal queue
Cartoon Museum - couldn't find it, then it was too late to go.
Comedy Store - sold out
Photo exhibition - not running in the evening
London Film Festival - all events on that night were shite

I also went to the public hall of records to find some trial records for a radio play I hope to write.
The file I wanted, described as being 'essential to study', was of course being used. So I went back on Monday, still in use.

This has lead me to create my theory of passport photography, photograph quality depends on usage.

My provisional drivers license, my only official ID had an awful, discoloured photograph of my with DVLA written over my mouth to make me look like I have metal teeth. I have to use this card all the time. Whether as my public records card, which I will probably only ever use once again, best bloody ID photo ever taken.

Coming soon... Adventures in a budget Shepherds Bush Hotel.

Fact Fourteen

Factosis level: High (a seatbelt is advised)

The name John Doe or Jane Doe, popularly used as place holder name when the identity of an individual (often a corpse) in American, in fact originates from a legal case during the reign of Richard III

There was a legal debate 0ver the Act Of Enablement. The debate involved a hypothetical landowner John Doe and the man he leased his land to, Richard Roe, who then took the land as his own.

These names had no particular significance other than perhaps that a Doe is a female deer and that Roe is another species of deer.

The case would become a landmark in legal history and the names became commonly used as a generic standin for a person unknown.

Quote of the day: At the age of six years I wanted to be a chef. At the age of seven I wanted to be Napoleon. My ambitions have continued to grow at the same rate ever since - Salvidor Dali

Award Thingy

That student course website that I write for www.bloc-online.com has just been nominated for the guardian media award for best student website.

Well f**k me.

I of course am the person who currently holds the record for most peices submitted to the website in this award nominating year. This will be the platform on which I shall attempt to take all the credit. Not that I imagine that will get me the spare ticket that's floating around for the award ceremony.

I also entered a radio four sketch writing competition this week. The top fifty entrants get a sketch writing workshop. If I'm not in this top 50 I probably ought to finish myself off.

I just want to win something. People around my are winning things and getting jobs and I ain't got s**t. My bastard bald friend Colonel Kian Northcote even won a bloody mountain bike right in front of me the other day.

Winning thesvenhunter blog's caption competition doesn't count. I won a 1p from that!

Chuffing Charity

This book thing I was working on a while ago has arrived in book shops around Cornwall.

It's called 'We Wish' a book to raise money for the NSPCC. It's made up of kids stories (which are very good) from a competition, a great deal of the leg work having being done by myself and some of my colleagues at Falmouth College.

But are we credited for our labours?

The students of University College Falmouth get a credit. But did all of them contribute to the book? Did 4000+ students do something to help this charity. No I don't think they did, I think it was six of us writing students, 4 by the end, and a group of illustration students, who are all individually credited I should point out.

All I wanted was to pick up the book show to someone and say 'Look, there's my name. That's me, I gave my time to working hard on getting this book published. I selflessly gave my time up for it, look that's my name, see how great I am for doing this important work for no personal gain whatsoever to myself, look, that's me.'

Apparently it's selling well and raising lots of money for starving kids or something.

There's going to be christmas single to go with it, featuring local children's choirs: sick bags on standby.

Why do charity songs have to be so agonising. Just donate the cost of the single to the NSPCC rather than suffer.

Awkard

So I'm bed a few days ago, (when I say that I don't wish to suggest I haven't been in bed since I only wish to suggest that these events took place in the past) and enjoying a fantasy role playing dream, when there was a loud knock at the door, interrupting my aggressive discussion with a large mobster lizard.

Being the sensible considerate person that I am I thought f**k it I'm not getting up to answer it. But no one else did either. And they kept knocking.

So I got upto answer it but couldn't find my keys. So I went back to bed where 10 minutes later the knocking came back. Still didn't know where my keys were so I ignored it again.

Then eventually, I got up and had a shower. The girl who lives upstairs and her boyfriend arrived during that time so if this person knocks again they can answer it.

But when I'm back in my room I hear the knocking again. Can't answer it now because I'm not dressed. Obviously the girl upstairs has come on go because no one else is answering it.

The knocking carries on at regular intervals and I don't want to answer it now because they'll know I've been ignoring them. I get ready to leave, but they knock just before I go into the hall. I wait a few moments and then leave.

As I lock the door and leave someone shouts my name. It's the girl upstairs's boyfriend. He's been looking for her and knocking for ages. I say I just came home for my laptop. Is she in? I don't think so, but I'll check. After all I wouldn't be sure if she if I'd only popped back a minute.

So I go upstairs and her doors open. I knock on and hear voices and moving inside. I can see through the crack between the door and the frame.

She's in bed with another man.

She's clothed thankfully, though he has his shirt off. Whosits at the door I say. Don't let him in, she say's.

So I go back down stairs, and even though I've been a conspicously long time I say that she's not there. He reluctantly accepts and walks away.

I go the opposite direction. Which is also the opposite direction I want to be walking in.

If I'd just answered the bloody door in the first place...

Look At Me I'm Wonderful

My talents have finally been recognised, well by a small select number of people anyway.

I've made my first short film, well when I say made, I wrote it and appeared in it. It was made by myself and group of my fine, fine colleagues at university college Falmouth.

And it's rather good if I may say so myself.

And I do, frequently.

Watch it here

Quote of the day: "I intend to be a freak for the rest of my life, and I shall baffle you with cabbages and rhinoceroses in the kitchen with incessant quotations from "Now We Are Six" through the mouthpiece of Lord Snooty's giant poisoned electric head. So theeeeeere......... "

Vyvian Stanshall of the Bonzo Dog Band

The Legend of Mrs Baggit

There are many, many myths and legends that surround and take place within the rustic county of Cornwall. This is one of the lesser known, more modern legends....

Back in the early 50's, a lone widower, Mrs Irma Baggit, was bothered and rather upset about the amount of litter being left outside her little rural cottage. She would spend hours clearing up this rubbish and taking care of the dry stone walls and hedge rows. But still the litter would gather.

Then one fateful day in June she happened to catch some school children carelessly dropping the paper from their half eaten portion of chips across the road. Angrily and hastily she dashed out of her house, brandishing a broom to threaten the young boys. But she was so hasty that she did not notice the juggernaut lorry speeding down the road.

The lorry flattened her, crushing every tiny bone in her body and making an unbarable bloody mess across her precious road. She was dead.

But her spirit could not rest, not while her precious roadside was being littered. So she went away from the light and became the vengeful spirit of street cleanliness. She sought out the boys who befouled the road outside her house with their chip wrappings.

Both boys awake the next morning in extreme pain. During the night one of each of their kidneys had been removed mysteriously (she had dreamed of being a surgeon in a previous life before being supressed by the oppressive male governmental regime).

And thus the terror of Baggit began. Chewing gum leavers found the fingers nails torn out during the night. A news paper dropper found his big toes taken clean off, both unawares during the night.

To combat this wave of terror the council wisely hit upon a campaign to combat littering in which Mrs Baggit became the symbol of clean roadways across Cornwall, her smiley face appearing on signs in laybys across the whole county.

This lead to the end of the attacks but in recent years the campaign has faded into memory and been forgotten and only a few of Mrs Baggit's warning signs still exist.

Although the legend has died down we should by no means be complacent, as this group of spritely youths discovered.

This photograph sees them openly mocking the Baggit legend as afterward they had a beach barbecue and did not clean up after themselves. They awoke next day to find their arms and legs tied together with extracts of their own intestines.

So you have been warned. Don't drop litter or else the Baggit will get ya!

Quote of the day: "Anybody that's involved in a workshop and isn't a light engineer, is a twat" - Alexei Sayle.

Vengeance Sweet Vengeance

I forgot when I left my old residence to vent my spleenful of hatred, in regard to my old landlord, all over this blog.

I used to reside in pleasant, but thoroughly dull, town of a Penryn, lodging in a house with possibly one of the most small-minded and petty individuals I have ever had the misfortune of not assaulting.

A man dull enough to place under every light switch in the house a little sticker saying 'Please turn off when not in use'. A man who described in great detail to one of my housemates who she could twist the bolt and open the front door by using only one hand if she was carrying something. A man who gave us a two hour discussion on how the house was kept clean and provided with a two sided printed table of how all the tasks were variously divided up between us, with an ascent on how many he did himself.

There are many tales I could tell of this petty man. There was one time when I decided not to put the recycling from the kitchen in the bin to be collected the following morning because the bin was already full. I came to the kitchen later for my evening snack, he had placed his carbboard sign (he kept one ready in a draw) telling us we needed to take the recycling out, determined not to do it himself. So I thought f**k it and did. Ten minutes later I him, from my bedroom window, checking that I've done it right. No what was the bloody point of him making me do it if he's still going out to check??? In a sense he was right to check, I had deliberatly placed it precariously on the top in the hope it would blow away in the strong wind and he'd have to pick it up in the morning. And to top it off they didn't take it because we'd put out too much.

To stick with the recycling, I was in a rush once and tipped all my empty coke cans into the bin without crushing them. When I got back he'd crushed them himself and left them in front of the gate for me to see what he'd done and what I was supposed to do. I promptly stepped over them and left them for him to pick up, which he did.

I'd say this anal attitude was due to him having a small penis but his girlfriend is fifteen years younger than him and I hardly thinks its likely she's spends time with him for the sparkling conversation.

I tried my hardest not to leave any stone unturned when I left his residence, having been given a three page letter on the various ways I was to clean up my room. Unfortunatly there is simply no way to fight somewhat operating on such a petty, small minded, beaurocrating, patronsing level so I ended losing £30.

This wasn't a great loss and aggrovated as I was I decided to let it go. However just last week I bumped into one of my fellow housemates who had a long discussion about his deposit with this man on moving out the house, which had sent the landlord into a tantrum. Afterward he threw away all the unclaimed mail for both him and myself, which included bank statements. This is very serious and has reawakened my thirst for vengeance.

So I have decided to hit back. Not hard when it comes to such a petty man. So I'm going to inundate him with internet ordered free samples. So far I've ordered him:

A whiskers kitty starter pack.
A copy of pyschic magazine.
Free pet food samples
An information pack about 'Gut Week', which took place in August.

More will follow....

Fact Thirteen

Factosis level - medium to high
The critically panned 2005 film of 'Fantastic Four' was not actually the first film outing for the comic hereos.

In 1994, low budget film supremo Roger Corman made a low cost version of the film but despite getting a release certificate of PG and a marketing campaign of publicity poster etc the film was never released.

The exact reason why is not known. It is thought that it may have been produced as an 'aschan copy' - they produced a film so the studio could keep hold of the rights (the opinion held by Stan Lee) until it was ready to make a big budget picture

The film still remains unreleased despite rumours that it might be released with the new film DVD.

A website article http://www.teako170.com/ffmovie.html features an supposed way to get the film. This can be done by donating $20 to a charity trying to raise money for the many animal/pet victims of Hurricaine Katrina

In the Year 1995...

Sandon High School Year 7 Report for David Paul Nixon

Mathematics: Level 4 65% David works quietly but effectively and is making good progress. He works well in class and with homework but must continue to try and work on his presentation. He’s a sensitive, well-motivated and pleasant pupil.

Science: 44% David has steadily improved his contribution to class reviews over the year. He now needs to improve the presentation of his good book work.

English: 57% level 3, David is a very quiet pupil who lack confidence in his own ability. His reading is somewhat hesitant and the presentation of his work is generally untidy. He does however have plenty of ideas which he does not succeed in committing to paper.

Technology: 85% An excellent exam result which reflects David’s academic ability. His theoretical and written work have been good but he was not at all organised in his practical, in fairness this was not helped by his accident.

History: 77% David is a conscientious and hard-working boy who is a pleasure to teach. This is an excellent result for him.

Geography: 78% There has been a pleasing and steady improvement in the standard of David’s performance during the year. He has settled, avoided distractions and begun to gain confidence. His examination performance was very pleasing despite being weakened by a poor section on weather.

French: David is capable of producing some good work in French. His confidence is improving slowly and with careful checking, especially of spellings, he could be successful in this subject.

Music: 79% A good exam result. David has worked well in class and has produced some good work.

Art: 52.8% David has ability in this subject. His efforts have been somewhat erratic. Practice is essential in observational studies gained in homework and class tasks. Satifactory.

P.E.: David needs to become more involved in all activities if we are to see any distinct improvement in performance. A more determined effort is required next year.

R.E. 57% David needs to improve the both the quality and content of his written work. At times David is slow to settle but is generally making good progress.

Form Tutor Comments: David has adjusted well to school routine and is progressing well in his studies. Clearly the presentation of his work is an area that he must address.

Head teacher Comments: This report contains some very encouraging & pleasing results of which David can feel proud. I hope that he will continue to build on these successes & that he will grow in confidence. Attention needs to be given to the rules of presentation.

Pupil Comments & Action Plan: I must improve my presentation in particular. I will concentrate on my handwriting. I also could have done better in my exams if I’d revised more. Besides my presentation I think I’ve done quite well.

The Curse of Me

Luck has never really been kind. Fate pisses upon my personal bonfire on an almost daily basis.

Besides my Telly/Video braking the day before my birthday, I was recently faced with a new scenario which would make me shake my head and cry 'typical'.

I have developed financial security due to not very pleasant circumstances. What I don't really have to worry about, or have crave right about now, is money.

So what do I find lying in the road, whilst on my way to the train station. What do I see tightly wrapped together?

50 quid, two 20's and a 10 pound note.

You know how much I would've killed to have found that kind of money two months ago when I couldn't even get any of the crappiest McJobs in the area? How much I would've loved to have 50 pounds to buy all those new albums that I've been desperatly wanting but could no longer afford. And now when I just don't need it.

I spent ten pounds buying lunch, paying for my train ticket, and buying a bit of food. I donated the remaining £40 to the British Heart Foundation because they mays as well benefit from my totally innappropriate luck!

I Made Up A New Game

Yes that's write, I have invented an exciting new word game.

It's called 'The New Single by the Cheeky Girls Game'. You have to come up with the next single for that ingenious and sophisticated girl duo, the Cheeky Girls, by inserting the word cheeky into a popular title, scoring extra points afterward if you can get the word 'bum' in there as well.

To illustrate here are a few examples.

There is a bum and it never goes cheeky
The Cheeky drugs don't work
Hit me baby, one more cheeky time
Bum Action (I believe in cheeky)
If you tolerate this, your cheeky bum will be next
Hit me with your cheeky stick
The more you ignore me, the cheekier I get
Cheeking my religeon
My cheek bum don't lie
What's cheeky bum got to do with it
My cheeky bum will go on
Sorted for bums and cheeky
It's a cheeky sin
I would do anything for you cheeky bum (but I won't let you stick your finger up mine)

Why not have a go for yourself

Nixon in Da House

I received the first monetary inheritance from my late fathers estate this week. The only circumstances in which a large cash bonus would not have leaping around the room with delirious, moist-mouthed excitement.

Sadly this substantial cheque has been made out to D J Nixon.

Not D P Nixon

And as I not the sort of person to pump out bangin choons to warm people up for the impending weekend, I will be sending this cheque back.

Quote of the Day:

"Money can't buy friends, but you can get a better class of enemy." - Spike Milligan

Fact Twelve

Factosis level: Medium

The American mafia began in response to the actions of a group of men known as 'The Black Hand'. The Black Hand would attack and vandalise any business that were becoming too prosperous. They would send mail which would be signed with a black hand stamped at the bottom, in the years before fingerprinting.

Hence the term 'blackmail'.

Okay it's pretty short but very interesting I think.

What! you think I just sit around all day pissing around on wikipedia just to find out useless pieces information to fill the empty void that is my soul.

It's two hours a day max.

What the f**k do you want from me.

Important Historical Documents Discovered!

Whilst sorting through the piles of papers present at my father's house, a number of important, and valuable, historical documents were discovered. Their contents have been reproduced here for you interest.

Year 4
Language: David has sown in improvement in this area and is gaining confidence. He reads in a fluent style, his comprehension skills have shown improvement. Handwriting haphazard but he is making efforts to improve. Gaining confidence within a group situation

Mathematics: During this year David has gained confidence in this area and this has resulted in a a surge of interest

Science: David has shown enthusiasm for the science based topics we have pursued during the year.

D.T.: Has interesting plans and designs but finds some difficulty in executing them.

History: Enjoys historical topics.

Geography: He is interested in the worlds and its problems.

Art: David has made great progress, he has the confidence to try out new mediums.

Music: David shows interest and always tries hard. A helpful boy.

Physical Education: David hs worked quietly and well. He has gained in his confidencee and made good progress.

Religous Education: He is sympathetic towards other peoples problems.

Class Teachers Comments: David has become more involved with class activities during the year, taking responsibilities upon himself, when he sees the need.

Head Teachers Comments: It has been good to see David become less detached from the class. I want to see this continue. Good boy.

Woe, Woe and Thrice Woe

We had the funeral on Friday. Possibibly the hardest things I've ever had to do. I'd been trying so hard to get through all this that I hadn't really had to face until them. So instead of the funeral making me feel better I actually feel worse now.

Got pretty drunk that evening. Sang 'People Are Strange' by the Doors at karaoke because that's easy to sing when your throat is buggered. I don't think I sang it very well but because I was so pissed I wasn't nearly as nervous as I usually am so it came of ok.

The whole evening ended with my and the two Chris's eating Tesco Ice Cream on the park. Felt like crap in the morning, only the second time in history I've had a headache with my hangover. Not even an English breakfast could cure it.

The trip back was thankfully smooth (for once - an hour and a half late on my journey up). But I had hoped that things would get back to normal once I got back to Falmouth but I don't really feel any better. Because things won't ever be the same again.

Stephen Nixon 1951 - 2006

My father died last week, which as you can imagine came as a bit of a blow. It was a heartattack that took him in the end. He'd been unwell since he was diagnosed with high blood pressure in October but more so when he suffered a stroke over Christmas. Though he was recovering, the inactivity of not being at work made his recovery slow.

I somehow knew I'd be getting the call sometime in the not to far distant future and I knew the second I got a phone call from my brother (he never phones me) that it had happened.

The funeral will take place this Friday. It's all been arranged by a local Undertaker who I'm not sure I can forgive for discussing the arrangements at my mums house whilst wearing Bart Simpson socks and having a mobile that shouts 'Hello Moto' when it rings. Nice fella though. It's just going to be a simple affair unless of course someone has invented the concept of 'Pimp My Funeral' and enters us, but I somehow doubt that.