I just made a serious cup of tea. I mean, this was good - I impressed myself! If there was ever a moment where I reached the national stereotype in any way, this was it.

I took photos, but as I'm strutting about my room topless I am not going to post them - it would be horrible for you. Instead, here's something for Hannah:

That's the back patio of Pirates in Freo, Hannah! You can see Fast Eddys in the background, you totally need to go there after a hard night clubbing at Harbourside one day, oh yes... try not to get involved with the Japanese mafia though. It worked out pretty well for me, but I think I was lucky!

I had a couple of beers at lunchtime today, and quite a lot of tea and coffee, then I had a couple more beers while we watched the football, and I am pretty sure I just had to pee about six times in two hours... I should drink less of those sort of things!

So today was weird. It's been a crap week, and today started rubbish as I managed to get totally rejected unexpectedly. In a way. It pretty much sucks eggs.

After that, though, we went for lunch at the pub and sat in the sun, then came back and had a meeting where it was announced that someone was, err, leaving the New York office. We got bought ice creams and sat on the roof terrace for a while, then I was called into a meeting and asked if I can go to the New York office for a few weeks to cover until they can find someone to replace the guy that got sacked.

Here's some photos of the roof terrace at work, 'cos Jacq thinks my Xanga is boring without them:

Today I lost an email from a friend to Entourage's spam filter... I got it eventually, but only as I was junking some real spam that came into my inbox and didn't get detected. Here is a comparison.

First paragraph of spammed email (the rest was much of the same) - subject title "The Big Road Trip, Part 2":
Day 4

I woke at midday after a very nice roper?sleep! Andy had been out exploring and the rest of the team had gone out to a mall in Detroit for the day. Once Andy was home we popped into Wal-mart for some essentials. While there I picked up a wireless stick for my laptop, which meant I could use the internet at the hotel...

The entirety of the nonspammed email (which my mail server itself had even marked with spam in the subject) - subject title "-----SPAM----- sainte 9035"

Hi,

A m B / E N
C i A L / S
X n a x
T r m a d o I
S O m
A m o x / c i I l / n
M e R / D / A
L e V / T R A
V / a G R A
P R O z C
V A L / u M

http://www.lonuibtersze.com <http://www.lonuibtersze.com>

very small pony, apparently for Bilbo.
Up you two get, and off we go! said Thorin.
Im awfully sorry, said Bilbo, but I have come without my hat, and
I have left my pocket-handkerchief behind, and I havent got any money.
I didnt get your note until after 10.45 to be precise.
Dont be precise, said Dwalin, and dont worry! You will have to

Computers these days, eh? They can do anything...

In other news, my friend Joe recently popped over to Ireland and recorded some jazz-funk homebrew in someone's DIY studio. It's very good. Check that shizzle out right here!

Currently Reading The Lies of Locke Lamora By Scott Lynch see related

Ok, third and last post of the day - I'm digging this random thoughts thing, the real blog has an audience that wouldn't appreciate it.

I'm listening to Steamboat Stomp by Jelly Roll Morton. It's on Originator Of Jazz, but I prefer it on Birth Of The Hot, which is a great album. Jelly Roll Morton is, in the words of himself (in the fictional yet superb movie The Legend Of 1900) "the man who invented jazz" - modest too! You should all pick up some of his stuff, particularly the original recordings from the twenties. It's old school.

I have the house to myself at the moment as my parents are off on a cruise round the world. This is good news, 'cos it's two months until I can move to Brighton and I feel a bit, err, repressed! Man, I should have moved out years ago... but then I wouldn't have been able to afford to skip off round the world for months at a time... swings and roundabouts I guess!

I eat so much junk when I'm on my own. This is probably because my mum cooks more for me while she's away than when we're both here! When I'm travelling I eat quite lightly and healthily, and cook properly. Now I'm reheating chinese, indian, lasagnes, pies and the rest. Just 'cos it's easy! I'm also about to start drinking before dinner. I think this is ok, 'cos it's a Sunday, but it's a bank holiday tomorrow so I am not so sure... also, I haven't been out the house or seen anyone since Friday... hmm, hello alcoholism!

Last thing for the day is this. A mate's book is out in the UK this week, hooray! Y'all should go and buy it because, well, it's absolutely superb. Amazing. Incredible. It also has my name in the back (or front, depending on where the acknowledgements are in your country). Mostly, though, you should buy it because it has the best protagonist in years, amazing dialogue that will make you laugh until you cry, and a plot featuring a loveable, almost Dickensian conman up against an almost Tolkienesque Bondsmagi as he interferes with the Godfather-like Capa Barsavi. I can't sing it's praises highly enough, but this reviewer can, so merrily click away and be swayed into a purchase! Here's an excerpt from his review:

We have come to a point where it seems the term age turner?/I>, once a positive remark applied to a book, has come to also mean a book that pages carry marginal if any weight, a possible intelligent reaction to the Dan Brown phenomena. Well, The Lies of Locke Lamora is a page-turner, and perhaps Lynch has in his possession a revolutionary ethereal ink to explain the discrepancy, because these pages laden with rememberable quotes, a baroque corporeal fictional setting thats landscape and history is infused with past empires and an alien origin thats legacy is eternally evident at every twilight, and a protagonist that is a constant lure belie the ease that in which these pages turn. It a work that didn seem to ever abandon the scope of the author own interests in a story in an effort to make it more substantial, and because of this, it indeed possessed true substance and not a less faithful abstraction. It a very fine line to tread, and The Lies of Locke Lamora emits a passion from the author that marks him as a fan of fantasy that neither fell into the banal bin where fan-author works mislabeled as homage dwell, nor did he attempt to overstep his fan base.