Like An Egg And Spoon Race

It's all about balance.

(That's where the egg and spoon race ceases to be of any use, metaphorically)

I could do with some more light.
I've spent the best part of two years in a basement, so it's no wonder really.

Enough of this darkness.

I want to fly

and run till it hurts. etc.

Spent the day pressing the 'refresh' button on eBay auctions.
A somewhat soporific activity, and one that is not good for the nerves.

But I'll be darned if I'm going to make my own background support system.

My homemade ring-flash may have been a triumph, but there are limits, even if I have already bought the materials.
I'll think of some other good use for those 6 metres of plastic piping.

In Australiaaaaaaaaaaa.... in Australia-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-A

It Doesn't Begin With The Letter 'C'.

Guess what I made today.


10 points up for grabs.

FEVER! I'm on fire.

Weirdos casting shadows with their satellite dishes.
Chased by the Doppler effect on the church bell, Misses

the beat.

When they meet, will we?

When I Grow Up

I want one of these.


I've always said that I want a fireman's pole in my house, but this would possibly do as a compromise.

Auntie Bertha's Chutney.

I don't know what she puts in it, but it's like a lead weight.
It fell out of the cupboard and smashed the bowl of custard I was preparing.

That was going to be mighty-fine custard too.

Cinnamon and burnt orange sugar was used in making it. Probably the best custard ever made, in fact.

We'll never know now.
Thanks, Auntie Bertha.

Adjacent

I am the SINE WAVE.
Carrying all your data.

Tangentially.

Neigh

The horses on the moors are very friendly.
A few of them came over for a chat.


One was particularly interested in my van.

Pebbledash

Nice word, that, when you think about it.

My 'beard' is gone. After a few days of growth, I started to look like one or two of the characters from 'Thirtysomething'.


Or, even worse, like Chuck Norris.


I have always hated his beard. It's like it's sprayed on or something.

Anyway, it's history. Lessons have been learnt, don't you worry.

Earth Shattering

I've had an idea.

It's incredible.

Nothing will be the same again, it changes everything.

It'll make you wonder how you managed beforehand, it's revolutionary.

You wait and see.

Feeling Hungry Between Meals?

Not Just Saffron Cakes And Pasties.

I have just bought and eaten a large cheese pasty from Barnecutts. I say 'large' but it was, by any normal person's standards, medium AT BEST.

I don't know, things aren't what they used to be. They didn't even have the choice of pasties they used to. One used to be able to select cheese & bean (my particular favourite), or cheese & onion, but no more. Merely 'cheese'.

AND it's not over-laden with salt like it used to be.

Hell, they even had some available! Not like in the old days—if you went in at any time after 11:45am then they wouldn't have what you wanted.

And They Call This 'Progress'...

Bald Pussy

I have been umming and ahhing for the past week about whether or not to grow a beard. I don't know why really, as doing so involves no effort on my part—indeed, it involves doing less (shaving) than I would normally do.



I then came across Mr. Neil Mayer, an old college friend, on Facebook. His recent wedding pictures show him fearlessly displaying a wonderful arrangement of facial hair, the likes of which one doesn't find that often adorning the average 'Joe'. And who wants to be Joe*? Not me.

Neil tells me that while there are downsides (stupid students calling you Monopoly man, Jesus, Rasputin, Hitler(?) and having to avoid soup in public), the plus sides are that your face is all snuggly and “you look like some bad ass Edwardian mofo”.

So, with such a shining example in front of me, my fear has evaporated. I'm currently on day 5 without shaving.

I'm liking it so far.

*fictional Joe. any similarity to any actual Joe, either living or dead is purely coincidental.

No Wonder We Won The Cold War

I think I've actually fixed something.

I tried to put a roll of film into my new Kiev and the blighter wouldn't go in. Well, it would, but only if you lost some skin and perhaps a fingernail or two. So, after cursing the filthy Russkies for being up to their old tricks, I looked to see what the problem was. The beast of a camera has obviously been taken apart, or damaged, as it's been put together again. One little disc had been put in upside-down, which meant it stuck out too much, preventing the film spool from rotating properly. So, WITHOUT THE USE OF A CORRECT SCREWDRIVER, I took out the tiny screw holding it, flipped it over and, again, WITHOUT THE USE OF A CORRECT SCREWDRIVER, put it back in.

The camera now has a roll of film in it.

God, I'm so manly.

Kiev, Chicken.

My Kiev 6C arrived today. I was a bit scared it would never turn up, as the eBay description was rather brief, and the seller became un-registered as soon as my payment had gone through.


It does, however, seem to work fine, although I've yet to stick a roll through it. I'll do that later today. I've no idea how the TTL thing on top works, but I'll be using my DSLR to get exposures anyhow.

I was pleasantly surprised (although I think it was in the eBay listing) to find it came with a charming leather case.

This case smells gorgeous! It smells exactly like the case my dad used to keep his old camera in, and is exactly the same colour! Nostaliga!

I wonder if my dad was ever in the Russian army...

Retro, My Ass.

Speaking of the Wispa Gold, there's an ad campaign going on at the moment to promote the newly re-introduced Wispa bars (Someone at Cadbury obviously found the Wispa-making-machine in the back of their shed). The campaign hinges on the fact that Wispas are 'retro' and has some dumb tag-line about the bars being very '80s'.

Well, I remember buying Wispas and in particular Wispa Golds when I was at art college... and that was in 1997. In fact I have a very clear memory of buying one the day after the general election of that year.

Now 1997 is the late 1990s. NOT the 1980s. But obviously the late 1990s aren't trendy enough for the tosspots that sold that campaign to Cadburys. And while 80's nostalgia is all fun to dwell in, it's campaigns like this, which obviously demonstrate that it's been hijacked by the corporate suits with no sense of imagination, that make me cringe. I don't want it ruining the memory of my savouring a confectionery treat whilst discussing the (apparent) demise of Michael Portillo's political career.

I did buy a Wispa bar recently, however. It was delicious.

Too Much Choice Will Kill You

I think I am addicted to Uncle Ben's Express Rice, and I think it's going to be my downfall.

My one major weakness with foodstuffs, and manufacturers have obviously been cottoning on to this in the past few years, is having to try the different varieties that are on offer. It got out of hand with the lemon and yogurt Kit Kat a few years back—they nearly lost me there, I suspected desperation on their part—but on the whole I HAVE to try all the different flavours and ingenious new delivery methods they spend millions on dreaming up. Why, I might be missing out on something that's obviously going to unlock the mysteries of life if I don't. I would be forever in the dark if I had never tried that Wispa Gold all those years ago. I mean, chocolate, WITH CARAMEL! If I stayed away from that fella, I surely would have missed out on that innovative, never-before-or-since marriage of tastes and textures. Thank goodness I gave in.

And so, Uncle Ben's Express Rice comes in roughly a googolplex different varieties. Off the top of my head there's Mexican style, Chinese style, special fried rice style, tomato and basil, mushroom, chicken, golden vegetable...

I thought this was going the same way as the lemon and yogurt Kit Kat... and then today I discovered...

Uncle Ben's Express Risottos.

BASTARDS.

It's Sunny

Yes, it is sunny. And cold. Which I rather like.