I am 24 and I have had no sleep

I must apologise for my lack of blogging power yesterday, I was quite busy playing my games. Yay me!!!!

Here is my blog for today and yesterday.

A new round of Imperial Conflict is about to start and I am expectant of a good round.

If you feel you are Man or Woman enough to play the game, let me know and I will make it a priority to test your mettle.

And now for something completely different......

Capital A
Capital R
Capital S
Capital E
Capital !
Capital !
Capital !

And now for something completely normal....

I like playing Unreal Tournament.....
What I like more is when my mate gives me Unreal Tournament like I asked him to. I am still waiting. :(

I am not the happiest of campers right now.

I have had very little sleep(approx 1 hour) and I feel great. Must be the constant supply of coffee doing this to me.

Nothing much of interest to blog about.

Oh yeah, I just remembered....... I will be AFK for a few days this weekend as I am going up to my mate to have a rare oul' time. I will be back on Wednesday with an update and full discourse on the happenings of the weekend.

Never fear for I is here!!!

I am 24 and I have discovered my past.

This is going to be an incredibly long blog today, so brace yourselves.

I was digging around in a lot of my old stuff and I stumbled upon a collection of my old poetry and stories. I ask you to keep in mind that when I wrote these I was about 15 years old when I came up with this stuff. Another word of warning, some of the poems will definitely offend certain peoples and possibly races. I am not going to apologise for this, I have my disclaimer and that is final.

Now on to the first poem about a girl that had a crush on me. The only problem was that she was butt-ugly and I wouldn't wish her upon any of my mortal enemies.

I give you... "Silence, Pet"



What! She calls again!
What! she follows me still.
Why? I do not know.
My life, going downhill.

People lool at me, they stare.
A person hidden, a crowd.
Shw stalks so silently,
Her presence so loud.

She has taste in things,
Some good, some bad.
But to try suicide,
Truly, she must be mad.

My life she ruins,
In so many ways.
A ring to show her love,
Numbered are her days.



Ahhh.... that felt good to be finally published.

I tried submitting my works into a competition. They said to only send 3 poems so I sent in 17.

Next up is.... "Not My Judge"



I don't know you
Standing there.
Looking at me
With a stare.

I just know this
Little thing
About this whole
Happening.

You sit up there
With a frown
Wearing a wig,
Putting me down.

Feel no pain for
I hold no grudge.
This one thing, you're
Not my judge.



In this one I felt that I was being judged by everyone. Everything I did was critised. But don't we all have to make a few mistakes just so we can learn from them...?

And, I think, one more before we get to the story.

This one is going to get me killed, me thinks. I can't remember the reasoning behind it, but ir rhymed well so I liked it.

Presenting....
Man, Not Woman!



Who are we to say who’s wrong or right
Or who to blame, accuse?
Is it really safe at night
When the innocent, sex, refuse.

A thought occurs at this time
In our day and age
Of the injustices, sublime,
To cover our internal rage.

We claim to be superior
In every macho aspect.
We label you as inferior
Not worthy of our respect.

The truth, it seems, is hard to tell
And even admitting defeat
Could ruin all when all is well
And blemish Man’s clean sheet.



C'mon.... do your worst all you feckin' feminists!!!! I dare you! I double-dare you!!!

And now for the story..... This story got me the top grade in my class and it also turned my whole class against me. Several of them commented that my mind was completely warped out of shape. I agreed with them.

The School Bus

It was raining. Wet and miserable children waited impatiently for the bus to take them to school. They all huddled under the scant protection of the dying trees. That was the thing about school buses. They were always late whenever the weather was bad and early every other time, or so it seemed.
Harsh lights pierced the morning gloom. The noise of the old engine struggling up the hill broke the silence. The children formed a ragged line at the bus stop. The bus pulled up alongside the children, drenching some in a veritable flood of muddy water as it ploughed to a halt in a huge puddle. The doors swung ponderously open. Gingerly stepping over the puddle the children clambered aboard the bus. Not one of them paid any notice to the strange form behind the steering wheel or the mysterious bulge at his side. The stranger pulled his cap down over his eyes, obscuring the view of any of the children that might be curious.
He seemed nervous. Several of the children tried to talk to him but he remained unresponsive. The only time the driver would speak would be when he commanded the children to be silent. The children in the front rows grew increasingly curious as they noticed for the first time that the driver smoked. The driver reached into his pocket as the bus pulled up before a set of traffic lights. The children watched in fascination as his yellow-stained fingers fumbled for another cigarette and the lighter. The lights changed colour and the bus started on its journey again. It was only a short journey to the school from the end of the road where the children waited, yet the trip seemed to last longer.
A child, sitting at the back of the bus, looked out through a misted window. Rubbing at the window he managed to clear most of the mist away leaving a slightly distorted view as the bus passed the restaurant. A look of bewilderment passed over his face. Hurriedly he grabbed at the boy beside him. At first the boy ignored him, being caught up in another conversation, but as the boy persisted he gradually turned his attention to the window. Instantly he was silent. The bus was going out of town and away from the school! In a short time the two boys had spread the news to all the other children and soon the volume of noise in the bus increased alarmingly. The driver looked round and for the first time the children noticed it. There was a glimmer of madness in the way he looked at them and the way he seemed to be half-smirking at the children. A chorus of voices called out for the bus to be turned around but he ignored them.
One particularly brave child got out of his seat and approached the driver. He stood nervously before him, hands by his sides, considering how to explain the situation. The driver glanced round and noticed the boy. Stuttering, the boy began to explain but the driver swung round and pushed him roughly to the floor. The boy landed hard and immediately began to cry. In a single fluid motion the driver took the gun concealed inside his jacket, levelled it at the child and fired a round into his head. The silence that descended was virtually deafening. The lifeless form of the boy toppled sideways to lie on the floor and a pool of crimson blood spread out around him. A girl sitting beside the corpse lifted her feet hastily from the advancing blood and shuffled, wide-eyed, to the outside seat.
A boy, just turned seven, began to cry. At first his wail reached the driver’s ears alone but within seconds the rest of the children added their sorrowful cries to his. The driver’s face reddened as he roared at them to shut up but they paid no attention to him, drowning out his voice with their own. With gun still in hand he aimed at another child, a girl, and shot her full in the chest. Again silence descended and the driver repeated his warning to the children, punctuating his speech by repeatedly jabbing his gun furiously in the air where all the children could see it.
Pulling off the main road the driver now began to navigate the back lanes of the countryside. His aim was to avoid the police for as long as possible and he knew they rarely patrolled the back roads. However, the needle on the fuel gauge was getting dangerously close to the E. He knew that he would have to venture out on the main road again to search for a service station.
The children now huddled at the back of the bus, as far from their driver as possible. Images of his plans passed invitingly before the driver’s eyes and he knew he had gone astray. He had not meant for the children to get hurt but if they had understood their position in this situation then they would not have been hurt. However, that was in the past and he realised that the police would take no prisoners when they tried to negotiate now that he had killed two innocent children.
Distracted, he did not notice the police car that pulled out behind the bus. It stayed a comfortable distance behind often passing up the opportunity to overtake and instead slowing down to allow another car to slip in between them. Sighting a petrol station ahead the bus driver indicated in and left the main road. Only as he was pulling in did he notice the police car cruise past. His heart was in his mouth as he came to a halt and waited to see what the car’s reaction would be. Nothing! The police car drove on without flashing it’s lights once or slowing down. In his agitation the driver had gripped the steering wheel until the whites of his knuckles showed. Releasing his hold he concealed his weapon again.
On getting out of the bus the driver locked the door and proceeded to fill up the tank. Without paying for the petrol he boarded the bus again and glared at the children. They were agitated and were staring out the windows at the cars that passed on the road. Several were crying, boys and girls alike. The attendant came out as the bus pulled back out on to the main road and curses marked his wake. With a final scream of frustration the attendant ran back into the shop and started dialling.
The bus now headed for the airport and the final part of the plan. A flashing in the side mirror caught the driver’s attention and he stared with mixed emotions as two police cars pulled up behind the bus. Their harsh lights pierced what little fog remained from the morning in a dazzling display of blues and reds. With grim certainty the driver knew what had happened. He had been too careless with his planning and everything had begun to slip out of his control with every passing minute. Another police car pulled out in front of the bus and began purposefully slowing down forcing the bus to slow down too.
With the bus now surrounded on all sides the driver had no choice but to comply. He knew that to ram any car would very likely mean death or a disabling injury for him and unnecessary loss of life among the children. Even if he could break free from them he would not be able to out run the police cars. Coming to a halt the driver spun round and raced to the back of the bus. Cruelly and indiscriminately he reached for the first child to come to hand. A little girl was the unfortunate candidate. Holding the girl up in front of him the driver faced the police now gathering at the rear of their impromptu blockade. They were donning protective clothing and loading large calibre weapons. A single officer approached the front of the blockade with a megaphone in hand.
Hurriedly the driver removed the clip from his gun, counted the remaining shells, and reloaded.
Unnoticed a lone sniper dressed in camouflage combat clothing crawled through the stand of trees near the now silent form of the bus. In his hands he carried an instrument of death, a long range rifle with sights. He knew with grim certainty that he would be the one who would be given the command to shoot the driver. As soon as he reached the edge of the trees he set up his rifle on a tripod and contacted his superior through his headset.
Negotiations ground to a halt after the driver refused to respond to any overtures made by the police. The driver’s hands were clammy and sweat ran unchecked down his brow. Meanwhile the lone sniper took aim. Calmly he waited for the signal from his superior and a chance for a clean shot. However, the driver was twirling around in a mad dance, ultimately dancing his way to his death. The signal was given and within moments the sniper had fired.
Two shots rang out through the still air startling several wild game in the surrounding vegetation. As he was shot, the shock forced the driver to spontaneously clamp his gun hand shut and fire off a single round. After that the driver could be seen slumping to the ground.
When the police entered the bus they found four bodies, two of which were still warm. The children wept openly while the policemen went about their work grim-faced. The ordeal was over but at a price.

And one final poem for the road. I think I'll give you the one about when I was really getting into Role-Playing Games and none of my mates were. They all thought I was mad.... hell, I thought I was mad. Who knew we'd both be right?


The Wierd


I sit alone in a world of my own,
I see a coloured world outside of me.
I hold a conversation with my other me.
They think they know it all, why can't they see?

They talk and talk and talk but I don't hear them,
I live to feel the sun on my face.
They talk and talk and talk but I don't hear them,
I dream of the other-worldly place.

I long to see the fabled creatures again
And to fight for what is right.
They say I don't listen, I'm going to fail,
If only they could see what I see. Oh what a fright.

I always plan a step ahead of the others,
My plans are meticulous.
I live in a fantasy realm,
I scream aloud, Karameikos.

I will now try and find the old "Massa John" and "The Adventures of Lippy" comics of my youth. You will not find comics of this calibre anywhere else.

Keep the mojo alive people.

I am 24 and I am tired.

No long blog tonight.

I am tired.

I apologise, all my loyal followers and fans.

Will blog tomorrow with a double dose of blogger heaven.

I am 24 and I have done it again.

Be warned, I have done a lot this weekend so this is going to be a very long blog.

I have done it again. I have killed my PC.

I don't know why it died, but it is dead. All I was doing was installing an external 56k modem and after it installed the drivers it asked me to restart the PC. As soon as I said "yes", I got a BSOD(Blue Screen Of Death) and I hard-resetted my PC. When I went to turn back on the PC, nothing happened. No fans spinning up, no smoke coming out of the pc, no beeps, no nothing.

Ah well, back to the commodore 64 for me then.

And now on to the weekend.

Friday night - The Team night out.

All started well on the friday night. Finished work early and had a few smokes with a mate and then on to the pub. I nearly got run over by a car on the way, but my timing was superb and I missed the car by about a foot, although I scared the crap out of the driver. Yay me!!! We got to the pub and started into the drinking. I was under instruction not to get to p!ssed, so I held back on my usual drinking habits and played catch-up. Everything was going well and then we all went to another pub. Things started off okay in the pub. We had a few drinks and then it happened...
I went up to the bar to order more drinks and I found my mates knocking back shots of Sambucca..... and they had one waiting for me. I, being tipsy, decided what the hell and had a shot, and then another and another.

Finally, after one too many pints and shots, my stomach said "No more please!!!" and then it decided to revolt in the classic "Pavement-Pizza" style. One of my mates carried me up to the toilet where I managed to ruin the Toilet-Assistants night by redecorating the whole toilet(Never underestimate the power of revenge of Sambucca).

I ended up going home early that night, as I had to be in work early the next day.

The Next day - The Wedding.

I started the day off by going to work. After work, I'd arranged to meet up with a work mate and then to proceed on to the wedding. This plan worked well. I met up with my mate and then went to the first staging area(a pub close to the wedding reception) and we met up with other people that were gathering for the night. I decided that I was not going to throw up this time and stayed on Coke for the early part.

Then we all headed to the Wedding Reception.
I will say that the Wedding lass was beautiful in her dress.
I will also say that the Wedding lad was nice in his outfit(Although I was not too keen on the colour.)

I was surprised to see how many people showed up for the reception... People I had known for all of 5 minutes where there. I got started into the pints straight away, but I kept myself paced on them. I was not about to end up a wasted wreck before the night. I kept to the pints that night and I ended up okay. My mate started on the pints but quickly moved on to shorts and mixers. I made it my mission to protect him from the multitude of harms that were lurking around every corner for him.

During the night, I asked the bride to introduce me to her mother.... I was quite surprised when she scurried off and came back with her mother in tow. What the hell was I going to say to her mother? This plan was only designed to instill fear into the Brides heart and mind!!!

Anyway, it was getting late in the night and the bar had stopped serving(we had stocked up prior to the outage). People were starting to drift away to their own various destinations at this point. Those that had booked rooms were going to them or to the residents bar(A place I did not go). I, instead, brought my mate back to his place after repeatedly instructing him not to talk to the cab driver or even to make eye contact with him. After all, I was relatively sober and my mate was not.

We got back to his place and proceeded to have a few smokes, a few cans, and to watch a few movies. All in all, it was a good night.

Also a word of warning/wisdom from my First....

"Avoid the russians." They are scheming and conniving. They delayed a bus from Town by an hour by trying to coddle the driver into believing that they had been knocked over by the bus. This is not the first time this type of incident has occured. I myself have fallen victim to the drunken-knacker approach to this scam.

The knacker waits for the bus to beging turning in to stop at the bus stop. As soon as the bus begins to turn, he steps out and brushes his arm off the corner of the bus and then proceeds to fall back on the ground. At this point four or five of his mates a.k.a. reliable witnesses will appear to testify that they saw the whole thing.

The best way to proceed here is to...
1) Call the police immediately.
2) Get the bus Rep. on location.
3) Explain to the knacker that the 50 people sitting on the bus are more reliable witnesses than four or five drunk knackers.
4) Explain that if the knacker had been hit by the bus, the driver would not have tried to hurt the knackers arm.

Result : One outraged knacker and a happy busful of annoyed people.

I think I have written enough for one blog.

I is 24 and I has a brainfart.

I am party animal, hear me fart.

I heard a funny term the other day and I've decided to steal it. :) Thats right people, its the word in the title( *pssst : it's "brainfart" )

I am tired because I was out last night..... again!!!!

I was at a team night out and I behaved myself remarkably well up to a point/pint... I drank less than everyone else and left early because I had to come into work early today. That, and I have another session/wedding to go to tonight( Yay me!!! ).

***News update*** While writing this I received a call from a mate with regard to last night's drinking. Apparently I was violently ill all over the place... I warned them about me and drinking shots of Sambucca. I, God-me, was is and always will be right.

And my mate decided to walk home from town and got lost...... for 2 hours. Ahhh the joys of alcohol and the lack of memory caused by it.

Tonight I am going to try to stay on non-alcoholic beverages. I know its not going to happen but I'm not in work tomorrow so I don't really care. I do care that I will have to behave because I am at a wedding and I don't want to ruin it for everyone.

A big Thank You goes out to A.C.E.(My FIRST) for maintaining the supply channels.

Note : All I need now is 49 more people to acknowledge me as their god and I can start my very own cult.
Also note : As I write this, I am in my Mandarin suit(Black jacket, blood-red shirt, Black slacks, and those incredibly stylish shoes with no laces) and I look incredibly cool. All I am missing is the matrix-style shades. :)

Brainfart over.

I am 24(again) and I am hurt.

I am hurt for so many reasons.

I, and my fellow team-mates, are going out on a team night out to celebrate our colleagues leaving the job to go on to better things. This is all well and good. However, we all finish at 3.30 today and we are meeting up for the "Session" at 7.30 tonight. And now for the part I don't like.... My team-mates have insisted that I not begin drinking until after they have had 2 pints(Apparently I "horse" down the drinks).

I can understand where they are coming from... If I go out drinking then I am not going out for just one or two pints and then home. I am going out to get drunk. But I still believe that I am a responsible drunk(I think thats contradictory). I still have most of my wits about me.... I know not to p!ss on the streets or cops, I know that if I wobble too much the bouncers are not going to let me back in.

I know that I do stupid things when I'm drunk, but I do the same things when I'm sober too.

I know a lot of my own faults and it depresses me. I can see so many faults that I really don't know how I get from this day to the next without going "postal" on the rest of the world or myself.

I won't bore you all yet with a list of my faults. Maybe later if I get enough interest in them...... maybe...... because some of them are really nasty. :(

Note to viewers : If you post a comment on my blog then be sure to leave a name that I will recognise you by. If I see another "anonymous" post with no identifier then I am going to rip the almighty p!ss out of you and I won't stop.

I am 24 and I have the answer.

A while ago I posted a question relating to the cleansing of one's rectal area....

And now for the conclusion...

If you do not look at the toilet paper afterwards.... Then how on earth do you know that your rectal area is clean? You could have "Dangle-Berries".

Most people answer the question negatively and I believe that it is purely out of a disturbing sense of shame they might feel.

Ah well....


I have an interesting story to tell.

Both my mate and myself were going into town. He was going to meet up with a few mates and I was heading home. We were in front of the bus, walking to the stop, as it was pulling up to the stop. The driver stopped the bus, picked up the girl waiting at the stop and then started off again. We ran up to the bus, but he wouldn' t stop for us. He slowed down to let us catch up then pulled off again at full speed.

My thought : He's a f*ck!ng b@$t@rd, and he's not getting any attention from the women he'd hoped were in his life.

Anyway, We got a taxi into town and we went our seperate dirrections. I headed off to the bus stop and as I arrived I realised that the last bus home had already left. Poor me!!!! I stood there for a while checking the bus timetables. While I was reading, another bus came along and let off the last person. I walked up to the door of the bus and the driver opened the door and....

Driver : *Did you miss the last bus?*
Me : *Yep... got here a little too late!*
Driver : *Where are you heading?*
Me : *Just going to (Name deleted).*
Driver : *Tell you what... Hop on and I'll bring you to swords for a fiver.*
Me : *Sounds good* (remember kids, don't take lifts from strangers. Get lifts from me!)

So I got on the bus, the driver dropped the bus at the deopt and got his car. The driver was finishing his shift and was heading home anyway. I waited outside being monitored by the C.C.T.V. and the neighbours. The driver came back out and picked me up and brought me back to .......we are currently experiencing some technical difficulties...... for a fiver. I saved 35-40 euro thanks to that generous driver. If it were not for hi, I'd have had to wait another hour for a bus to ....Undisclosed.... and then get a cab home from there.

I am 79 and I am senile.

Mur har har har!!!!!! Tee hee hee!!!! Arf, even!!!

Yay... Harken to me for my words are good and they shall spread forth amongst the unbelievers to bring them back unto my wings wherein they shall be berated for the heresy that they spread likened unto a pox or plague that hath runeth over.

Let it be mine own voice that ye listen to, for I shall show you the light. And fear ye, those who art turned from the true voice of mine own god, for there shall be great punishment waiting for you, in the bowels of the knacker hell where you shall be called "bud" all day, and diseased-looking people will constantly harangue you for your last cigarette.

Lo, it shall be good as we, the just and right, laugh at and mock the unbelieving.... and if we have the time and energy and can really be bothered then we shall spit upon them.

And, to answer A.C.E's question.... Undoubtedly, our theme tune/praise should be to the tune of Monty Python, and ye shall also be in charge of the Legendary Knights of Ni... Not the Kights of Ecky-Ecky-Ecky-Ptang-Zimpoing-zimpownzimizizawwaa.

I am 24 and my followers are growing.

It has begun my friends and foes alike....

The first has already been granted a spot.... He shall be revered and shall hold a special place upon my left side... and if anyone attacks me, he shall be thrust upon their blades to save myself. Sorry, but you can't kill me, I is a GOD!!!!.... of sorts!!!!.... very odd sorts!!!!

Anyway, here is how the whole thing is going to work...

I am at the top.
First : A.C.E. the Almighty Distributor of my Imperfect Justice.
Second to Thirteenth : To Be Decided.

All praise for my wisdom shall be passed upwards from the bottom. That way everyone gets the praise.... I am soooo nice. :)

Here is a random quote from "person unknown".....
"Stop a war, and score a hot chick! That should be their slogan."

I am 24 and I am preparing for armageddon.

Here we go......

It has begun, people. The end of the world is just around the corner. I have stared Death straight in the eye and Death has told me that it is inevitable.

Here in Ireland, the first signs have already shown themselves. It won't be long until the rest of the world is affected by the escalating problems that we here suffer under.

First sign : Bill Clinton.
What were you people thinking when you gave Bill power of the U.S.A. Did you not learn from previous mistakes??? If you put a guy who is going to do a good job into power, he will be killed. If you put a muppet in control, he will bring your country closer to the brink of madness.

Second Sign : George Bush
Again.... What were you thinking? See the first sign above. This guy is about as safe as a junkie running out of Heroin.

Third Sign : Brinks Vs. The Banks
This one has recently appeared in Ireland. Brinks security people have been informed that if their mate is in trouble then they are to leave him behind to die while they get away to safety with the rest of the money. Normally good thinking..... if you happen to own the bank or the money in the security van.
I am currently a witness to this spectacular event as it unfolds on my doorstep. I can see this event spreading to arise in other countries and then it will begin.
We here in Ireland are running out of cash.... And what happens when large masses of people run out of cash? They get annoyed, angry, frustrated and finally, violent. Already one bank machine has been robbed/stolen/taken out of the wall it was attached to.
I have seen my future... I am sitting on my porch with a shotgun on my lap, the sun is setting and people are hiding just outside the range of my gun. They are waiting for me to look away so they can steal from me. Why would they want to steal from me? Because I saw it coming. I am preparing for this by emptying my bank account and stocking up on guns, ammo and tinned foods.

I know it is going to be a long journey to see the light at the end, but I am here for the long run.

I am not going anywhere.

I am not going to run in fear.

I am going to greet the armageddon with both hands wielding high powered weapons and a psychotic grin on my face.

If you want to live to reap the rewards of this futile armageddon then let me know now for I will not be reserving seats for people who realise the horrible future that awaits them. I may be be nice, but I'm not gullible enough to believe that anyone who comes up to me after this warning is my friend.

You have been warned people!!!!!!

I am 24 and I love anime.

Once again, I have appeared to distribute my nugget of wisdom on the beauty of anime.

I have an ever-increasing collection of anime(source: undisclosed).
I have decided to watch every last episode of anime that I have in my collection.

This week, I have watched the entire 26 episodes of Bubblegum Crisis Tokyo 2040, and I loved them. It was delightful to watch three girls in "hard-suits" beating the living crap out of "vomers" in each episode. The plot wasn't too bad either.

Next up to be watched.... all 26 episodes of "Noir".

I'd recommend taking two days off from your job to sit down and watch all the episodes one after the other, otherwise there is a good chance you will forget some of the plot. Although the plot is nowhere near as bad as a well-written episode of "Friends".

I got interested in anime during my college days.... and what wonderful days they were. I first saw "Urotsokudoji", and its bonus material, in college and I am still getting over it. I am particularly fond of "Ninja Scroll" and "Kabuto".

I must away now to find the theme tune to "Bubblegum Crisis".

I am 24 and I am under surveillance.

I am at a secure location, as I write this, but I don't know for how long I can keep them off my trail.

They are closing in on me but I may have foiled them for a few days by re-directing my mail.

Anyway, let me tell you about the party(All characters fictional until proved otherwise).

I was invited to a party that had the promisings of a really good time, both in the pleasure sense and in the business sense. I headed off to the party with a few cans and the remains of my "stash", and of course my faithful Munchin-Fu.

The party started off as most parties do.... only a few people there. And, as the first few people were work colleagues, we started discussing the likes, dis-likes and utter hatreds of our jobs. That was fun. Then more people starting showing up and I was left in charge(unofficially) of organising the ambient music. As I write this I am listening to "Superstar Panini", just to give aa taste of my style of music. I had no problems sorting through the music to decide what would best follow what and provide the best ambience.

But then the worst happened...... Yep, KNACKERS!!! Four of them showed up to the party. Apparently they were "invited". My gods people, don't invite them in past the gates, otherwise you'll never see your dog again.

I spent most of that night broken-hearted and in disgust of knackers. Now playing in the background is the theme tune to "The Sopranos". I managed to keep my wits and consciousness together until the knackers had left about 2-3am).

A.C.E. -> because I am at a secure location and am paranoid, I have lived in fear all day to go online.

Note to manga fans.... Watch all 26 episodes of Bubblegum Crisis: Tokyo 2040... Best 13 hours of my life.

More to follow....

I am 24 and I like Doom3

Okay folks,
I promised you an update regarding Doom3 and here it is....

Doom3 is great!


What....?

You weren't expecting a long discussion on the finer points such as the lighting effects, level design and atmosphere where you?

You got your update, what more could you possibly want from me??? BLOOD?!?!?!?


Fair enough....

Doom 3 - The grudge update.

The visuals : Superb. Everything is here from mood lighting to no lighting. Swinging lights wreck your head as you try and figure out if the shadow you've been staring at for 5 minutes has just moved.

The Sound : Super-smashing-namtastic. Everything from the rasping sound of zombie breathing to the pleasant tinkle noise of breaking glass. The sounds tie in brilliantly with the overall design of the game.

The feel : While I'd prefer to be legging it around huge levels with a rocket launcher, there is still a lot to be said about sneaking up to a corner and peeking around to see if there are any monsters waiting to attack you.

The Atmosphere : Brilliant. This will scare the holiest, and the unholiest, of sh!t out of you. Everything about this game is designed with this thought in mind. Do not play this game if you are the type of person who thinks that because you shot the baddies to bits, that they are not going to get back up and come after you.

The Baddies : Everything from the simple-minded Zombies up to the Beholders floating around is done perfectly... You'll spend a lot of the game looking at dark corners to see if theres a baddie hidden in it.
Overall rating : 9/10. (I deducted 1 point because its not an AvP game)

Final thought on this game : This game is a GOD among mortals.

I am 24 and I am running out of ideas.

I am running out of lots of ideas to keep this blog alive.... I don't trust the world enough to provide me with a constant supply of situations to fully document and criticise. Although, it has done well so far.

Let me tell you why goverments should not let my family travel abroad.

We(my family) bring bad luck with us.

My parents went to New York 2-3 years ago and they were walking along enjoying the summer sun. They happened to stroll past a bank. 5 minutes later the very same bank was robbed. One up for bad luck.

I went to America...... One week before September 11th. How's that for a messed up holiday. Another one for bad luck.

I went to Austria to visit my mate.... It happened two days after I arrived. Most of Europe got flooded badly.

Basically, I'm afraid to go away with my family in case we cause the Apocalypse.

Anyway, I promised an update on Doom3 so here it is.

I installed it 2 nights ago, but because of the late hour I didn't get a chance to play it.
I got home last night and decided to try it out, and I was impressed! It runs so nice on my PC that I thought I'd cream myself. The basis of the game is not about killing all the creatures, although there are plenty of them. Id Software were trying to get the atmosphere for the game right. They did!!! The game is very dark and you'll find that you need to use the flashlight quite a lot to see the shadows of the bad guys lurking around the next corner.

Everything about the game is nice... Although I think the standard pistol is pretty crap looking, but it does the job it was designed to do. The visual effects are brilliant, especially after it was combined with the Havok engine(Fact freaks : The Havok engine was used in "The Matrix : Reloaded" to simulate all the Agent Smith's in the fight scenes). The lighting is moody and excellently done, leaving you wondering if its better with the lights out(Its not, its so f*cking freaky when you fire your gun in complete darkness only to see a zombie's face in front of you). The levels are superbly designed, the corridors are cramped to provide you with the nowhere-left-to-run-to feeling. The in-game movies fit into the game seamlessly, transfering control to the player and leaving you with a sense of dread while you wait for the barricade doors to open.

I think I've written enough about Doom3 for the moment... I will paly more of it soon and write more when it sounds like I'm not just spitting out technophrases that sound good.

I am 24 and I have a been asked to blog on....

Writing blogs!!!

I have been checking all comments on my blog and I stumbled across this one....

"cairnsy said...

Yes - I'd like you to do a blog on blogs. I've spent some time this evening reading other people's blogs. If you do a blog about blogs I'll blog about your blog about blogs!"

So I thought I'd comply.

Here goes.....

Blogs.... the ultimate on insecure security...

People write blogs for numerous reasons, from the diary approach to trying to change peoples opinions. I, myself, started to blog because I wanted it to be a diary/memo page. Unfortunately, as people start posting comments you'll soon realise that you have to change your blog slightly to meet the demands of both you and the people reading your blogs.

On the trend of blogging....

It has become more popular recently for people world-wide to start blogging about everything and anything. I myself am trying to sow dissent among the ranks of the general populace of the world. Mwa Ha ha har!!!
Is it a cry out for help, attention or for a deeper understanding of what makes us tick. I think the first two ar ethe most likely culprits here and to combat this, we need to reduce the overall population of Earth. I think thermo-nuclear war should be able to help us in this regard.

So there you go, cairnsy.

A blog about blogs.

I am 24 and I will design a knacker-sensitive sentry gun.

I was discussing the theory behind this new project with my brother this morning and not only do we agree the project is feasible, we also agree it is something that the government should fund as it will protect their interests.

Think of it... A sentry gun mounted on your car, house, guarding your beer, etc. A Knacker comes along planning god-knows-what and instantly the gun has acquired its target by using clothes recognition, voice recognition(This one may be tricky as they never really talk) and stupidity recognition. The target is then reduced to a quivering pile of blood-soaked, bullet-riddled, of "3-Stripe" clothes.

I think the government needs to consider this as the greatest possible invention since the kettle.

More on this in a later post, I also hope to include diagrams of this new weapon.

On a lighter note.... I just got Doom3 this morning and I will be playing it intesively tonight to see if it can scare the crap out of me(I don't think it can). The word is that they are trying to make it incredibly atmospheric, but if that means they melt my processor just to provide smoke for some levels, then I am going to stock up on guns, ammunition and tinned foods and declare war on Id.

I am 24 and I want to say thanks.

You are Melancholy. Melancholics are often gifted,
even prone to genius. You are deep and
thoughtful, but this can lead to your being too
introspective, to the point of moodiness and
depression when you find flaws within your
self. You strive for perfection in all things,
most especially your self and your immediate
world. You are sensitive to the needs of
others, and loyal to your friends, but can be
hard to please. Melancholics do well in the
Arts, science, and math.


Which of the Humours are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Aparently I not a person to cross, although with my paranoia, that should be changed too "I am not a person to look oddly at".

A big thanks go out to Bev for posting a very nice comment on my Blog. THANK YOU!!! You are the type of person that makes me feel all nice and fuzzy and hence I am going to dedicate this post to you.

I am 24 and I have another knacker story.

I overheard a rather disturbing conversation between a knacker kid, a.k.a. "sprog", and his knacker mother, a.k.a. "Sprog-dropper".

The conversation went something like this....
S = Sprog (Approx age : 8 )
SD = Sprog-Dropper (Approx age : 35-40 )

S : Give us that loaf of bread.
SD : Leave it alone, will ya.
S : But I want a slice of bread.
SD : Don't take too much, then.
S : Ah christ! There's mould on the bread.
SD : Ah it can't be that bad.
S : There's f*cking white spots all over it.
SD : Thats not mould, its still okay.
S : That white sh!t isn't the bread, ma!
SD : I only opened it a few days ago, it should still be okay.
S : There's no f*cking way I'm eating that. Its covered in mould all over it, for f*ck sake!
SD : Ahh, be quiet. I'll clean it up when we get home.
S : And you can eat it yourself as well, I'm not going anywhere near that.

And now for a close-up look at the enemy.....

I am 24 and I am afk.

I am writing this from an unknown secure site in the hopes that it will throw the cops off my scent for a while..... Remember folks, I am paranoid.

It has been brought to my attention that "The Anarchist's Cookbook" and "The Terrorist's Cookbook" do not provide ample warning about the dangers involved in creating have their recipes. Nor is it told of the neccessary precautions to keep oneself alive. I have received this information from a trusty source and I feel that it is my duty to inform you, the loyal public, of this most relevant of facts.

I have also developed a new reason to hate f*cking knackers. I was on the bus home last night and a knacker got on the bus and sat a few seats behind me. He then got quietly sick on the bus. I had my bag on the floor between my feet at this time. When it was my time to get off the bus, I picked up my bad and noticed that familar smell radiating up from the bottom of my seat. That's right folks, the knackers puke had traveled forward to soak into my bag. If I ever find out who that knacker was, I will personally make him wish I'd never heard the term "GBH".

***Note : AFK in the title means "Away From Keyboard".