Ancillary Justice - Sorry. I just failed to give a bugger about, er, anyone in it ( Read more... )

• I should really stop worrying about going to the dentist.
• Stephen King's 'On writing' is f-ing amazing. (I am a startlingly slow learner)
• It's probably a bad idea to buy cars that can emit as much smoke as a KH250.
• Puppetcamp London was jolly good. I would like more time to work on useful things instead of shovelling shit.
• Actually, janitorial ( Read more... )

My MP3 player is haunted by the uneasy spirit of Peelie: Black and white rag followed by LFO (Leeds warehouse mix). Toasty ( Read more... )

Somewhat trousered this evening. Time-travel has that effect.

Years ago there was a down at heel hotel/boozer in the middle of Cheltenham called The Plough. I recall some band called 'The Roadrunners' had a residency there because they were in the NME gig-guide for months. Esprit de Corps probably played there too. Round the back was a car-park ( Read more... )

It's a f-ing barn airfield. They'll never fill it.

(Or, if not live then only a bit dead.)

Bunkers!
Quietly rusting Eastern Bloc flying ironmongery!
Concrete!
Someone just pushed the Ballard button!
Lomo I up, landlord!

Words written (useful ones, rather than LJ, email, corporate docs and the like) - 0
Plot points confirmed by Prof. Gene Spafford - 1

If you're going to thieve ideas, thieve them from the best in the field.

Via Jalopnik - Saab employ a set of nutters to misbehave to music. Features several 9000s and a 900. Given the way they're heaving the steering wheels back and forth, I'm not even sure they stiffened the suspension.

Meanwhile, the subtext of this seems to be "Your average 'tuning' shop wouldn't know engineering if it ran up and bit them in the ( Read more... )

It was a slow evening in the parade of shops round the corner from my domicile. I'd stopped in at the curry-house for some Nepalese scoff to discover they were 'under new management'. Still, it tasted nearly the same, but I'm getting ahead of myself ( Read more... )

If you lived in the sort of house where they kept shotguns and green wellies, your parents had this poem on a teatowel. (Bottom half of the page) Good and obvious advice that's clearly never troubled the alleged ruling elite in Septic-land.

This story sums it up well for me. (Useless bunch of bastards not fit to run a sweetshop and play with cap- ( Read more... )