tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-239858952024-02-20T07:56:30.614+00:00The Occasional Rants of a 30-Something SingletonSome old cobblers and whatever idiotic rubbish I'm thinking aboutCaptain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.comBlogger117125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-48093886134587904572013-11-08T00:45:00.001+00:002013-11-08T00:45:54.474+00:00Night Train<p dir="ltr">I hate the last train home. I much prefer the penultimate train, not because it's earlier but because it tends to be full of fairly normal people who, like me have probably had a couple of drinks but are nonetheless normal and probably a bit tired. The penultimate train is smaller and crappier than the last train: The last train is an inter city which means decent seats and a smoother ride, whereas the penultimate train is cramped, noisy and always on the verge of breaking down (the operator, First Great Western, are notorious for spending fuck all money on maintaining their trains). But the last train is always full of the shit-faced dregs of humanity. The drunk middle aged men trying to flirt with the drunk middle aged scrubbers, the pissed up kids, the gobby twats, the arsehole lads who shout and jostle everyone. I hate each and every one of them with a fervour and would be happy to see them all fall under the damn train.</p>
<p dir="ltr">So why am I on the last train tonight? Not through choice I can assure you, but because the penultimate train of the night has been cancelled without any real explanation. This is fairly normal: As paying passengers and tax payers (in many cases, though by no means all) who therefore not only pay for ovetpriced tickets for the dubious 'privilege' traveling by train but also fund huge subsidies for private rail operators through taxation, we are treated little better than an inconvenient form of cargo that train companies grudgingly put up with in order to generate huge profits.</p>
<p dir="ltr">All of which is why I am desperately trying to ignore the drunken screeching and general fuckwittery of this late night vomit comet by writing this blog entry and listening to an especially good Charlie May mix.</p>
<p dir="ltr">For the non existent person who has been holding their breath for a new blog entry, I am not only sorry that it's such a weak and shitty rant but also that you are probably dead as a result of holding your breath for the best part of a couple of years. Sorry about that.<br>
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Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-82754345236608855362012-12-11T12:37:00.001+00:002012-12-11T12:37:28.400+00:00Did You Miss Me?It's been a while (2 years in fact) but I'm back. It's not that I haven't had ideas for posts its just that I've not had the inclination to bother to write them up, but I promise I will make more of an effort now. As if anyone actually gives that much of a stuff about this drivel. Anyway, first up: A rather controversial post I suspect, but fuck it, it's my blog so what I say goes.<br />
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There are times when I really wonder about humans. Why the hell are so many of us incapable of understanding that actually, life isn't all that bad and we should juts fucking well get on with it? Case in point: Someone I follow on Twitter (no names). This person has a pretty good career by the looks of it. They live in London, work in journalism and get to indulge their sporting passions in their job. They have a young child (primary school age). They are divorced (and yes, it's a she so the Dad isn't on the scene although I get the impression he is still in the kids life) and like any working single mum life is occasionally a bit tough trying to juggle a job which occasionally demands unsocial hours with bringing up a youngster. But still, she has a job, a job she loves, her child is healthy and does well at school from what I can tell and she has a nice house. But fuck me does she moan. Sometimes it's about sports, and fair enough that's part of the job and lets face it half the world moans about sports on Twitter, but often its about how tough life is for her and all that. Well, yes but its tough for everyone love, it doesn't mean you should go cadging sympathy on an quasi-anonymous social network.<br />
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Best example of this is that she moaned the Christmas is rubbish and she misses her mother. From this I surmise that her mum passed away around this time of year, no idea how long ago. Now this genuinely is tough - it's a horrible thing to go through no question. But we all have to go through it eventually. For me, it happened when I was 8 years old. My mum died of aggressive cancer which started as breast cancer and then spread. But you know what? Life moves on and there is no point moping about it because it won't change anything. I'm not saying don't mourn, far from it, but this maudlin self pity that lasts years is just stupid. Christmas is rubbish? She has a kid she loves very much so if she takes the attitude that Christmas is rubbish then the kid will pick up on it and that'll affect their enjoyment which is downright selfish. Why not enjoy Christmas vicariously through the innocent eyes of your child and stop bloody moaning? why the fuck does everyone have to act like a victim the whole time? Grow some fucking spine and stop with the 'woe is me' bollocks. All in all you're very lucky and have a hell of a lot going for you, way more than many people.<br />
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This self-pitying whining is actually pretty common nowadays, especially with the rise of social networks and it's all to garner attention and sympathy, which just screams "NEEDY". Now there is a chance I could be accused of hypocrisy here, but I will say in my defence that the idea of some of the drivel on this blog was more about me working out thoughts in my head and wasn't written with the knowledge that I had thousands of followers to garner sympathy from. It was genuine, heartfelt stuff even if it was trite bollocks a lot of the time.<br />
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Anyway, the long and short of it is that it was one whinge too many and I've now unfollowed said person. You may think I'm being harsh here, but beyond, say, the first anniversary of such an event as I've discussed you really should be stopping with the moping and trying to remember the positives. If you're not doing that then you need professional help.<br />
Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-45602576525868846132010-09-10T18:51:00.002+00:002010-09-10T18:58:25.750+00:00Get busy living......or get busy dying. So said the character Andy Dufresne in Shawshank Redemption and as Ellis 'Red' Redding said, that's goddamn right. I watched it on Monday night for the umpteenth time and the line really struck a chord. You can't change what's gone before but you can do something about the future and if you don't live the future then you're already dead. So I decided to stop moping. Sure, I'm still sad, of course I am, but you can't live your life in self-pity and regret. You have to get over it and move on and do whatever it takes to be happy again. So that's what I'm doing, and right now I'm busy doing a masup/remix for my new DJ set which will see me once again featuring as this month's guest DJ on <a href="http://www.di.fm/calendar/event.php?event=21979">Bear Golightly's Alchemy Sessions</a> on DI.fm on the 28th of September. Don't forget to tune in!!Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-67711312268197870112010-09-06T22:25:00.002+00:002011-02-15T16:30:27.067+00:00And so it endsIt would seem that from the language involved there is absolutely no hope of getting back together. The first time I say "I love you" to a girl and it is wasted and I end up spending all my energy in despair and a black, black depression. It all seems so pointless now. I feel as though I will never meet anyone else like this again. Life just looks like a dull procession of routine and drudgery marked only by the growing nights and smudged by the grey, wet days. If this is love, why do we strive for it so hard? It seems, from this viewpoint, a cruel and mocking emotion that builds you up just for the pleasure of pushing you back down like a playground bully. Nothing seems good and pleasurable any more.Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-77771053396676156012010-09-05T20:21:00.004+00:002011-02-15T16:34:35.245+00:00Notes of the afflictedIt's funny. I never knew it was possible to feel at once so utterly and excruciatingly frightened and sad yet be so filled with a love that brings warmth to the coldest of places. Right now I'm sitting on a busy inter-city train under harsh, unforgiving strip lights making my way home and therefore by extension closer to the reason for that love. And I both dread and long for the experience. This very train, were I to stay on it, would take me to the place where the girl I am so hopelessly and totally in love with lives. A part of me says "Stay on. Go and see her. Make everything OK" but the rational part of me knows that turning up on her doorstep at 11 pm on a Sunday night would not be a good move, and would leave me stranded a long way from home and very much not in favour. There are other reasons too, whic I won't go into partly because they are private but mostly because thinking about them makes me unhappy beyond belief.<br /><br />I went away this weekend because I knew I needed some time away. I went to Oxford to see my sister and her family, including my newest nephew for the first time (and what a diamond he is - I don't normally get mushy about babies but this kid just completely captivated me). <br />Problem was, everything I saw and did, I thought "Oh Em would love this - I must bring her here" and then I'd remember and I'd be back at square one. I even bought a couple of books on popular philosophy hoping to take my mind off things but they just make me question my <br />previous foolish actions all the more. Can't win.<br /><br />So what am I to do, stuck on this train and in this melancholy? I don't know, is the short answer. If I were a character in a book or a film, I'm sure there would be some amazing speech i could make to her or I'd appear at her door, sweep her off her feet and we'd live happily ever after. But this is real life, not a trashy airport novel or a big budget Hollywood rom com. Real life doesn't, and never has, <br />worked like that. I am not used to my future happiness and emotions being in the hands of another and maybe that's the problem. I am, I freely admit, quite emotionally naive. But then this is exactly what the girl I love was talking about. She said that to open oneself up to another, to love them and place your feelings and emotions in their hold is the ultimate expression of love and now I understand exactly what she meant. I just hope it's not too late and that she can still find it in her heart to allow herself love as I mow know she surely does.<br /><br /><p><em>Listening to: So Tonight That I Might See - Mazzy Star</em></p>Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-4648454914675121192010-09-04T08:55:00.001+00:002010-09-05T21:50:25.487+00:00How to be a tool in one easy stepGentlemen, take note. No matter how much you think you're a decent, <br />modern man in tune with his feelings and able to share, I guarantee <br />you there will come a time in life when you conform to every <br />stereotype of the reticent male there has ever been. I thought I was <br />modern and able to share and talk about feelings but at the crunch <br />moment I discovered that in fact I was the complete antithesis of <br />everything I had always believed myself to be in that regard. It <br />rather astonished me, but worse than that it may have caused <br />irreperable damage to a relationship that I value more than any other <br />I've ever had. And this is the root of what is eating at me. Even <br />writing this is making my stomach tie itself in knots as it means I am <br />thinking about that person and the possibility that I will lose them <br />for good. Trust me, it feels a bit like the arse is falling out of my <br />eod and I'm going with it.<p>Love. It's a small word but possibly it has more ramifications than <br />any other in the English language. It's bandied about a bit too freely <br />sometimes, but user beware: It is a very powerful word and once spoken <br />cannot be taken back. If you mean it then say it and be proud. If you <br />don't then shut your pie hole because saying it without meaning it can <br />cause enormous pain. But then even if you mean it, sometimes saying it <br />is the problem.<p>And here's where this week ties in. I didn't say it as early as i <br />could, but I should have because it's not something you should hold <br />back on. Previously I spoke about not knowing what love really was and <br />my subsequent realisation. Now I'm going to expand on that somewhat. <br />Love doesn't just 'happen' in my view. It grows from little things and <br />gets bigger and bigger until it is a thing in it's own right. Once you <br />realise it's there, it grows quicker. And as is well documented, it is <br />the most bitter-sweet of emotions.<p>For me, now, what began as a dawning on me that someone in particular <br />made me want to be protective and sharing and all the rest of it, has <br />developed to the point where thinking about her causes my heart to <br />skip a beat and my stomach to fill with butterflies. I can't bear the <br />thought of losing her and knowing that if I do then it's my own fault <br />isn't helping. I want to be with this person all the time and the idea <br />of being together for a long time doesn't scare me, it excites me. I'm <br />not saying she's 'the one' or that we'd marry tomorrow, but i am <br />saying I reckon we've a good shot at it. And to lose that would be <br />practically a crime and it would destroy me for the forseeable future.<p>So, gentlemen, I urge you: Learn from my mistakes, don't be an arse <br />and above all, talk. Talk about your feelings to the special person in <br />your life. It doesn't make you a gaylord or weak. In fact quite the <br />opposite. Don't waste a second on stupid and pointless mithering, get <br />on and do it or I guarantee you'll be sorry.<p><em>Listening to: The Somerset Experiments 004 - Steve Pettifer</em>Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-67242376247795508472010-08-31T18:21:00.003+00:002010-08-31T19:12:07.478+00:00The Devil hiding in the detailsSo what really happened? Why am I so upset? This is the same person I've been out with and broken up with twice (oh yes, forgot to mention that). Both times it ended because I couldn't work out what I was feeling or if it was right for me. See, the problem with me is that I'm pretty naive when it comes to relationships and feelings, especially love. I've been in love before, once, a long time ago, and didn't even realise until later (too late) that I had been. The tragedy there is that I clearly didn't take away that lesson and learn from it.<br /><br />You see, here's the thing: I was scared I wouldn't know if I was in love or not. I knew she was certainly very, very fond of me (I won't say love because I didn't know if it was or not. Turns out it was), but for that very reason I didn't want to keep her hanging on whilst I tried to work out which end of the stick was pointy and not poke myself in the eye. I always thought love was like this great big huge thing that lived inside you and was something akin to a great big trumpet fanfare and a flock of white doves ascending every time the person's name was mentioned. But then I wondered if perhaps that was just the result of watching way too many idiotic films (I do have a soft spot for rom-coms but don't tell anyone). I asked my housemate at one point, "How will I know if I'm in love with her?". She replied with a half-smile, "You'll just know". Problem was I was till hung up on the 'what if I don't fall in love with her' scenario and looking out of a massive pink monster with trumpets poking out of it and dove feathers sticking to in the recesses of my soul.<br /><br />And now the rub: I finally realised that love <em>isn't</em> like that at all. Love is smiling when you think about someone. Love is missing them when they're not around. Love is wanting to protect them, make them laugh when they're unhappy, pick them up when they fall, keep them warm when it's cold. Love is a lot of things and those things are pretty ordinary and everyday, by and large, but the fact that it involves that someone makes it different and special and important. I was so busy chasing shadows and worrying that I might not fall in love that I didn't realise I already had.<br /><br />Eventually though, love decided that it was fed up with being overlooked and decided to act. Metaphorically speaking, it backed away, took a run up and kicked me square in the balls with steel toe capped size 13's. "Noticed that, didn't you dickhead? Eh? Eh? All this time you've been wrapped up in your own insecurities and all along the thing you craved the most was there, waiting for you, you just had to look with your eyes, not your imagination. And now it's too late. But you noticed me now, eh, you bloody fool, and what have you to say for yourself? What's that? Nothing? That's right asshat, nothing because you and you alone squandered this. Twat.".<br /><br />As you can see, my subconscious can be pretty scathing about me. And rightly so. Right now I feel as though a significant portion of my insides have been torn out of my chest and the evening sun seems dull to me. Nothing tastes right, nothing feels right and the future isn't bright, it's grey and drab. I have an extensive collection of downbeat, depressing music to keep me company as I wallow in self-pity (oh, yes, I know full well that's what I'm doing but anyone who has a problem with that can go eat a bowl of fuck), and yes, one day maybe I'll look back on this and laugh but right now that feels like a very, very long way off and a very, very remote possibility.<br /><br />So I'll leave you with this thought: Alfred Lord Tennyson said in 1850 in the poem <em>In Memoriam:27</em> <blockquote>'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.</blockquote> However, in addition to that the Del Amitri song You're Gone says <blockquote>But if you sit down and count the cost of all those losses, there's no profit at all.</blockquote> Right now, I'm not sure which is right and which is wrong.Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-91216942173114629112010-08-31T08:05:00.000+00:002010-08-31T08:06:12.484+00:00What's on my mind?Well you won't be surprised to learn that it's the world of romance, <br>or lack thereof. In the not too recent past I had everything I could <br>wish for and yet somehow I managed to fuck it up. Twice. Anyway, to <br>pinch the title of the classic war film, too late the hero, I finally <br>got round to admitting to the girl in question that actually I do love <br>her. Worse, she knew. Worse still, I left it too late and she's met <br>someone new. What an idiot. After all that moaning about being single <br>I had it all and then squandered it. Seriously, what planet are we men <br>on?<p>As I'm sure you you can guess, dear reader, I am not in a great frame <br>of mind now. I think it's fair to say you can probably expect a few <br>pretty depressing posts. I'm now going to go and put my head into the <br>oven.Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-19968128045178899222010-07-09T18:45:00.002+00:002010-07-09T18:48:34.539+00:00Hitting the airwaves<p>One of my mixes has been chosen to be the guest mix on BEar Golightly's Alchemy Sessions this month on the <a href="http://www.di.fm/calendar/event.php?event=21623">di.fm progressive channel</a>. You can hear the show from 9pm BST and I'll be playing from 10pm on Tuesday July 27th. I'm pretty excited about this so I hope you all tune in and enjoy the show, and make listening to Bear's excellent mixes a regular event (last Tuesday of every month).</p><p>Facebook page is <a href="http://www.facebook.com/alchemysessions?ref=ts"> here</a>.</p><p>That is all.</p>Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-92029227079365584262010-06-07T12:27:00.005+00:002010-08-10T19:24:13.339+00:00Shameless plugOK, so I've started doing mixes digitally and I've been working on my first one. It's about an hour long and it's progressive house. I've put it up on Soundcloud and it's available for download from there (for free - aren't I nice?). Find it at:<br /><br /><object height="81" width="100%"> <param name="movie" value="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fsoundcloud.com%2Fdeckmonkey%2Fthe-somerset-experiments-001&secret_url=false"></param> <param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param> <embed allowscriptaccess="always" height="81" src="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fsoundcloud.com%2Fdeckmonkey%2Fthe-somerset-experiments-001&secret_url=false" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="100%"></embed> </object> <span><a href="http://soundcloud.com/deckmonkey/the-somerset-experiments-001">The Somerset Experiments 001</a> by <a href="http://soundcloud.com/deckmonkey">deckmonkey</a></span> <br /><br /><p>All comments on it gratefully received!</p><p><br /></p><p>Tracklist:</p><p><br /></p><p>1) Loneliness (2010) - Tomcraft (Roy RosenfelD Remix)<br />2) Sweet Dreams - DJ Nick Corline (Instrumental Mix)<br />3) Wasted - Andy Duguid Feat. Leah (Original Mix) <br />4) Two Dots - Lusine (Nic Fanciulli Remix)<br />5) Freeze - Bimbo Jones (Hector Fonseca & Saul Ruiz Dub Mix)<br />6) Pizzi - Joonas Hahmo (Proff & Vadim Soloviev Remix) <br />7) Bounce 2 The Beat (DJ Purple & Sam Diego - Club Mix)<br />8) Avian - Mr Fluff<br />9) Ariel - Nicky C (Original Mix)<br />10) Scarlet - Dinka (Original Mix)<br /></p>Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-47975077638185127942010-04-13T18:01:00.003+00:002010-04-13T18:04:44.269+00:00Too good to lastI knew it. It had to happen eventually. It was too good to be true. As of today, I am single again because I am completely incapable of being emotionally mature and talking about feelings. Well, I can but not until I know someone really, really well. I mean as in at least 6 months, maybe a year. Certainly not 2 months in. Anyway, that fucked it right up, but at least we parted on decent terms and hopefully, we will remain friendly. Still, fucked my week right up when I realised that I had to end it or risk causing a good deal of hurt to the other party. At least I did (with a little prompting) come to that realisation before any serious damage was done.<br /><br />Fuck it. Back on the shelf - I know my place...Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-42764101396607237132010-02-23T18:36:00.000+00:002010-02-23T19:37:10.513+00:00The joys of the NHSToday I had cause to visit an NHS clinic at a fairly large general <br>hospital. The website said that it was a walk in clinic and stupidly I <br>believed it. It was right in the sense that, strictly speaking, I <br>didn't need an appointment. However when I arrived at 5 I was told <br>there might be a bit of a wait, despite the almost empty waiting room. <br>No problem I thought, 45 minutes or even an hour is OK.<p>Over an hour and a half later I am still waiting. According to the <br>whiteboard in the waiting area there are 9 staff on duty, so how in <br>the name of frickin Chuck Norris does it take this long to be seen? <br>Why advertise it as a walk in clinic when they clearly can't organise <br>a walk in slot properly? I'd have happily made an appointment but the <br>website was quite glib in suggesting that there'd be no problem just <br>turning up.<p>So learn this lesson well - never, ever trust to sn NHS walk in <br>clinic, always book an appointment.Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-53317061318922939142010-02-01T21:19:00.002+00:002010-02-01T21:29:54.597+00:00New year, new startRight, that's it. I've had enough of being a miserable sod. I've decided that it's high time I stopped moping about and made things happen this year. It is all going to change. I started internet dating again the other week and I've been on a few dates and this weekend just gone I met an absolutely gorgeous girl and we really clicked. We both really like each other and we're chatting every day and seeing each other again this weekend. Now, it's early days, make no mistake about it, but everything looks positive at the moment. I don't want to some over all soppy and start eulogising, but she is gorgeous - absolutely stunning. I am genuinely punching well above my weight and she thinks I'm 'ruggedly good looking' which I'm assured is a very good thing. Not that I've ever though of myself that way, ruggedly plain perhaps, but hell I'm not turning down a compliment like that!<br /><br />I'm smiling. A lot. Which is pretty unusual for me at the best of times, so I am pretty damned happy right now. Of course, maybe it'll fizzle out or whatever, but even if it does (and I sincerely hope it doesn't), I will have had a fantastic time and now know that there are lots of gorgeous girls out there looking for someone just as I am and some of them seem to like me. So no matter what, I'm going to make this year work and that means being proactive in finding someone and finding a new job that actually pays me what I'm worth and then using the extra cash to pay off my debts (not that I have many) and then start saving properly for a house deposit.<br /><br />But never fear, dear reader, for I will still feel the need to rant now and again, so the old me will still make comedic appearances to bring occasional mirth and eyebrow raising. But I'm not going to allow myself to be miserable through inertia and excuses.<br /><br /><em>Listening to: <a href="http://www.redgraperecordsshop.com/synchronised-swimmers-limited-edition-p-39.html?osCsid=f7252c18c937f2a1709174c7093c1d8d">Hafdis Huld - Synchronised Swimmers</a></em>Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-42980943931198043292009-12-11T23:27:00.001+00:002009-12-11T23:30:34.914+00:00Insight, foresight, more sight, the clock on the wall reads a quarter past midnight.If you haven't heard this song, you should. One of the most perfect bits of turntablism ever made.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nmzHRGoKca0&hl=en_GB&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nmzHRGoKca0&hl=en_GB&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-84654768164310009952009-12-06T03:36:00.003+00:002009-12-06T03:40:19.331+00:00HahahahahahahaI use a tracker on this blog just to see where in the world people come from who read whatever shite I'm spouting. I got a hit from New South Wales in Australia based on an ask.com search for "second hand Daewoo Matiz". Burn in hell fucker, wankers like you who buy these shit cars should be condemned to eternal agony.<br /><br />Fuck you and goodnight.<br /><br /><em>Listening to: <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Out-Body-Experience-Degradead/dp/B001Q2EIWC/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1260070760&sr=8-1">Degradead - Out Of Body Experience</a></em>Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-68555089168267742612009-11-27T22:28:00.003+00:002009-11-27T23:39:42.952+00:00What I thoguht about on my way homeThe drive home from work tonight was wet and wild but the start, as always, was a slow grind from the M4/M5 junction past the M4/M32 junction. It's a busy junction and the mere presence of inclement weather tends to make people drive like complete muppets. But nothing unusual there. Unfortunately there was a stack on the motorway (fortunately for me, on the other carriageway) which occurred in the outside lane. For those not familiar with the British way of describing motorway lanes, that's the on in the middle. It was a low-ish speed affair, so no injuries that I could see, people out of their cars and on the phone to the police and no one needing to be cut out of their cars luckily. But the cause was all too apparent.<br /><br />Basically, one car had been rear-ended by another, hard enough to turn the front car through at least 45 degrees and push the nose into the armco on the central reservation, mashing the front of the car pretty badly. the front car was a nondescript euro/jap box of some sort but, for the benefit of my British readers, can you guess what make the car which did the shunting was? Have a think. What brand of car almost always seems to be the one which is three inches from your rear bumper? Yes, that's right. If you said BMW then award yourself 10 points and a mildly patronising pat on the back.<br /><br />My guess is that Beemer boy was driving like a cock which is bad enough in dry, clear daylight conditions but in the dark and wet it is even more stupid. Of course, I didn't see it, but a penny to a pound the moronic middle manager/salesman behind the wheel had his mobile clamped to his ear (which is illegal in the UK, punishable by fines and points on your license in the unlikely event you are spotted by a policeman. I say unlikely because the UK police forces seem to think that speed cameras are a suitable and effective replacement for plods on patrol. Because speed cameras are just so good at catching bad drivers, unsafe cars, people gabbing on the phone etc etc etc). Not only that, but I will bet that he had swung into someone's safety gap - you know, the gap you leave between you and the car in front to enable you to safely react to what's happening in front without having to stamp on the brakes and so you don't hit the car in front. Unfortunately far too many people think that it is their divine right to heave into this gap at will just because their overpriced penis substitute will just about fit the gap.<br /><br />This led me onto a musing about how the BMW badge still seems to have such cachet with a certain type of person even though, whisper it, BMW is rumoured to sell more of it's 3 series than Ford does of it's once ubiquitous Mondeo. There is something about the blue and white propeller roundel that attracts social climbers, snobs and the sort of person that always likes to keep up with, if not better, the Joneses. Sure, they're well made. Sure, they have some brilliant engines and their efficient dynamics systems have improved their fuel economy and lowered their emissions hugely. But there is something about BMWs that says "I'm a pushy twat". There just is.<br /><br />These days, Top Gear say that all the cocks have switched from <a href="http://www.bmw.co.uk/bmwuk/index/0,,1156___bs-TQ%3D%3D@bb-TTNfQ1AwNw%3D%3D@sit-bmwuk,00.html">BMW M3s</a> to <A href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Audi_RS4">Audi RS4s</a> (a car which I have to say I would love as it's a real Q car - very unassuming and fast as stink, although I assure you I am not a cock. Well, not normally), but I don't think this is true. Sure, there are some total turds driving Audis, just like any other brand, but by far the biggest proportion of tossers still seems to be driving BMWs, closely followed by Mercedes.<br /><br />Anyway, whatever the reason behind the crash, the guy in the Beemer will be held to be at fault since he was behind and in all honesty it probably was his fault. Maybe, I am being harsh and he's a perfectly decent guy who had a lapse of concentration and that's ruined his and the other guys day and he's truly sorry and whatnot. But I have my suspicions.<br /><br />So, I continued my painfully slow journey home and once I got off the congested A46 I thought "Ah ha. Now we can cruise nicely" but sadly, when I turned off onto a smaller backroad through the countryside to head up over Lansdown (a hill that overlooks Bath) I was immediately stuck behind one of those godawful Wendy houses on wheels from Korea (in this case a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matiz">Chevrolet Matiz</a>, formerly Daewoo who are definitely Korean). These hateful little pieces of crap are small, tinny and furnished with asthmatic engines that would barely power a medium sized blender. They are bought by people with absolutely no idea about cars and they are just the sort of people who have fuck all idea of how to drive as well.<br /><br />This nasty little abomination tootled along at barely 20mph on a road where overtaking is not possible, braking for every slight bend or oncoming car (to give you some idea, on a clear dry day I can drive the same road at an <em>average</em> of better than 50mph, so that's averaged over slowing for bends and so on. Granted, that's hooning but maintaining 40 on that road is not hard for anyone). I just do not understand why anyone buys one of these things, and there are plenty of them from the likes of Suzuki, Hyundai and others. Sure, they're cheap, but they're built to a price so they are tinny, noisy, shoddily designed and offer all the crash protection of an MDF cupboard (they scraped three out of five stars but one was struck through which is alike a half, because of an "unacceptably high risk of life-threatening injury to the chest in side impact". Your average new Euro box will be considered a failure without at least 4 stars and many are 5 star rated). I will concede that newer models are improving their protection, an obvious result of the EU rating systems which thankfully people pay more attention to these days, but the older models, even slightly older, are just frighteningly poor. The Matiz is made in India, as is the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tata_nano">Tata Nano</a>, touted as the worlds cheapest car, and that has all the strucutral rigidty of damp cardboard. I'm sure they're fine for crowded Asian cities where space is at a premium and you never get above 20mph anyway, but on the open road? Bloody stupid.<br /><br />And its not as if they can really claim green credentials with their weeny engines either. Diesels have better fuel economy and lower emissions. Again, the newest models are improving and they now use either a 1 litre engine or a turbo charged 1.2 litre, but the older models used 800cc, 900cc and 1 litre engines and they were shockingly bad. I used to know someone who bought an 800cc one thinking the car tax would be cheap (see bottom of post for an explanation of how car tax in the UK is charged. It's a bloody stupid system really). Afraid not. My 150bhp 1.9 litre turbo diesel produces less CO2 per kilometre and returns better economy despite having to haul almost 1 1/2 tonnes of German engineering around (it's a VW, not a Beemer in case you were wondering). As a result I pay some 60 quid a year less in tax and the same, if not less, in fuel costs on a like-for-like mileage basis. Granted, mine cost more to buy and I'm sure the servicing is pricier and if something goes wrong then it sure as hell is more expensive, but it actually doesn't go wrong because it's well built (touch wood). So why buy one new or second hand? Get a better car second hand for the same money as a new Matiz and you will find it a much nicer place to be.<br /><br />Anyway, I now have a theory: Anyone who goes to a garage and is willing to hand over real, proper, hard-earned/hard-borrowed money for one of these stupid cars should immediately have their driving license revoked because they clearly can't drive.<br /><br />As a final thought, I wondered why, when Chevvy were looking for a route into the Euro car market, they chose to do it by buying a crap brand from a gigantic Korean industrial conglomerate. Daewoo make (or made - I think the Daewoo group went bankrupt at the end of the last decade) stuff. Lots of stuff, from toasters and microwave ovens, through TVs and heavy plant machinery to ships, great big fuck off ships. they started making cars because someone in a meeting somewhere thought it would be a good idea to diversify even further. Except they didn't really. What they actually did was buy the production lines and rights to make the old GM cars and first appeared in the UK market with the Daewoo Nexia, I think, which was basically the old mark three Vauxhall Astra, which was a shit looking car even then. And frankly it didn't get any better.<br /><br />Gm already has or had a number of brands punting its dubious and not-so-dubious wares in Europe so why on earth did they decide to take on the Daewoo brand and sell even more shite cars under the Chevvy brand? I must confess I don't know what the stock of the Chevvy name is like in the US, but over here it was basically non existent as they had never really sold cars here, so why try and break into a new market with such irredeemably turgid cars? Needless to say, they don't exactly have a large slice of the UK market and I very much doubt that it will get any bigger. Unless they start flogging Corvettes in right hand drive for sensible money, and that won't happen any time soon, sadly.<br /><br />Anyway, thats a long enough rant for today I think (and there's still the exciting explanation of UK car tax, or Vehicle Excise Duty as I think it's officially called). I haven't done a decent rant about inconsequential crap for ages now and I thought it was about time I stopped posting the self-pitying shit that has been prevalent of late and re-started doing what I created this blog for - writing comedy rants to amuse my mates. <br /><br />To paraphrase the little Chinese dude in The Hangover (great film by the way, very funny) - Toodle pip motherfuckaaaaaaaahhhhhs!<br /><br /><em> Listening to: <a href="http://mynameisbear.com">Bear Golightly - Alchemy Sessions 016</a></em><br /><br /><br />A brief outline of UK car tax:<br /><br />Right. Like I'm going to type all that shit out. If you really give a monkeys bum about how it's done, look on <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Car_tax">Wikipedia</a>. But I wouldn't if I weere you unless you suffer insomnia in which case go right ahead. It's like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mogadon">Mogadon</a> in print form.Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-35217574137775961262009-11-12T16:19:00.002+00:002009-11-12T16:40:23.104+00:00Where's my mojo, man?It's finally happened. I have totally lost all interest in or concern about my job and my career. I think I knew it was coming, and it has been for a while now, but I finally feel like I have totally lost all enthusiasm for what I do for a living. Once upon a time I was totally up for it, always ready to learn something new and get stuck in. Now I just don't care enough to make any effort.<br /><br />I just read an article related to something I was thinking of doing and to be honest I only understood about 30% of it even though it was based upon my programming language of choice. It has been so long since I worked in a proper software environment that I have managed to survive on blagging it, making it up as I go along and Google searches, but now I realise that this just won't cut it any more but I just don't give enough of a toss about IT to learn it properly. I'm only in it for the money now because nothing else will pay me this well<br /><br />I don't want to be here any more. I hate it, hate it with a passion. Now maybe its just this job (and I am looking for a new one, it must be said), but what if the next job is just the same? What if I still don't care? I would dearly love to be able to jack in IT altogether and never have anything to do with it again, but I'm afraid I'd be good for nothing at all then. Perhaps if I get a job in an industry I am interested in (and trust me, I am not even remotely interested in the industry I am in now) then things might be different, and it has to be worth a shot.<br /><br />But I really can't see myself lasting a whole lot longer and then what? I'm buggered that's what. What I'd really like to do is learn to coppice woodland and have my own patch of it and learn to burn charcoal and what not, but woodland is expensive and it doesn't really pay a great deal so I suspect that's a lottery-win type of affair.<br /><br />My motivation has just leaked away that little bit more...Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-86740447607096203002009-11-07T12:10:00.001+00:002009-11-07T12:10:50.210+00:00Here's to you Mrs RobinsonJust watched last nights Have I Got News For You which was hosted by <br>Kirsty Young. Wow. She looked stunning, absolutely stunning. I would <br>give one of my arms to have even a date with her. Wonder how I could <br>apply to be her toyboy?Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-41809897362176944812009-10-14T17:54:00.003+00:002009-10-14T17:57:44.261+00:00Shameless self-promotionMy self-promotion, that is. I've put a couple of mixes online that I recorded a couple of years ago. They're not the best I've ever done as I was out of practice, and the two that are up are very similar in terms of the tracks on them, but it's a start. I might do more soon and put them up, I'll see if I get the chance.<br /><br />Anyway, they are progressive, tech and tribal house and trance - think Nick Warren, John Digweed, Sasha etc. You can find them <a href="http://www.deckmonkey.co.uk/download2.asp">here</a>. Enjoy!Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-59588141525057979562009-08-19T14:16:00.001+00:002009-08-19T14:18:42.575+00:00Mmmmm....chicken.....I'm part of a free-range future. Join me at <a href="http://www.chickenout.tv">ChickenOut.tv</a>!Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-85857440306315315132009-06-13T23:06:00.003+00:002009-06-13T23:15:13.750+00:00Now ehere was I?So that list thing never happened. As usual with these things I got bored and just couldn't be arsed. Oh well. Instead, I thought I might share some music with you. Well, I say share, but you might not want to listen to it, but there you go.<br /><br />You may or may not have heard of Spotify. In case you haven't, it's a free service which allows you to stream unlimited music to your PC for free. Yes, free. You do get an ad every now and then but frankly, it's not intrusive and it's a lot better than radio - no annoying DJs or shitty low rent ads from local carpet tat merchants. You can get it ad free by paying a monthly sub, buit frankly I don't see the point. I have tos ay, I'm not sure how long they can last as it seems like a rather revenue-light busniness model to me, but what do I know?<br /><br />To use it, download the client from <a href="http://www.spotify.com">Spotify</a> and then you can stream music, make playlists or listen to other people's playlists and thats how I intend to share music with you, dear reader. I will eventually put some links on the sidebar but for now, here's the spotify links for my playlists (click them once the client is installed and it should open spotify and start playing).<br /><br /><a href="http://open.spotify.com/user/captain_flymo/playlist/4uiKtowC78KOsC7o4sJLNj">Seriously heavy metal \m/^~..~^\m/</a><br /><br /><a href="http://open.spotify.com/user/captain_flymo/playlist/323epN0KySvF2tNIO1tcHg">Some downbeat stuff</a><br /><br /><a href="http://open.spotify.com/user/captain_flymo/playlist/5zJ6o8Y72jw6RBnLQjOnap">Some good old fashioned hip hop</a><br /><br /><a href="http://open.spotify.com/user/captain_flymo/playlist/06WE8EUcB6ODXvQLuaX9Mu">My guilty pleasures list</a><br /><br />(Note you might need to refresh the page after clicking the link to get it to work - no idea why).Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-1226691652051574232009-04-28T16:17:00.017+00:002009-04-28T18:15:44.163+00:00Happy Blogday to me!And so I come to my 100th post. I was going to make this a bit of a discussion on new music delivery models (namely Spotify) and my thoughts on them, but I've decided that can be post no 101 or even a bit futher on. <br /><br />No, today we are talking lists, specifically, the kinds of list that tell you you should have read/listened to/done, or whatever, the various things contained therein. Of course, these things are largely pointless because they generally involve lists made up by journos or pundits all of whom, have some sort of agenda and so they are far too abitrary, but I have done one or two of late and thought I'd share them with you. <br /><br />So, first up, a list of 100 books that apparently everyone should read according so some spurious BBC News article.<br /><br /><div class="nobr"><br /><table id="booklist"><br /><thead><br /><tr><td>Title</td><td>Author</td><td>Have I?</td></tr><br /></thead><br /><tbody><br /><tr><td>Pride and Prejudice</td><td>Jane Austen</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Lord of the Rings</td><td>JRR Tolkien</td><td class="yes">Yes</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Jane Eyre</td><td>Charlotte Bronte</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Harry Potter series</td><td>JK Rowling</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>To Kill a Mockingbird</td><td>Harper Lee</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Bible</td><td> </td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Wuthering Heights</td><td>Emily Bronte</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Nineteen Eighty Four</td><td>George Orwell</td><td class="yes">Yes</td></tr><br /><tr><td>His Dark Materials</td><td>Philip Pullman</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Great Expectations</td><td>Charles Dickens</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Little Women</td><td>Louisa M Alcott</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Tess of the D’Urbervilles</td><td>Thomas Hardy</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Catch 22</td><td>Joseph Heller</td><td class="intend">Intend</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Complete Works</td><td>William Shakespeare</td></td><td class="yes">Partial<sup><a href="#note1">1</a></sup></td></tr><br /><tr><td>Rebecca</td><td>Daphne Du Maurier</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Hobbit</td><td>JRR Tolkien </td><td class="yes">Yes</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Birdsong</td><td>Sebastian Faulks</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Catcher in the Rye</td><td>JD Salinger</td><td class="intend">Intend</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Time Traveller’s Wife</td><td>Audrey Niffenegger</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Middlemarch</td><td>George Eliott</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Gone With The Wind</td><td>Margaret Mitchell</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Great Gatsby</td><td>F Scott Fitzgerald</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Bleak House</td><td>Charles Dickens</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>War and Peace</td><td>Leo Tolstoy</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy</td><td>Douglas Adams</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Brideshead Revisited</td><td>Evelyn Waugh</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Crime and Punishment</td><td>Fyodor Dostoyevsky</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Grapes of Wrath</td><td>John Steinbeck</td><td class="intend">Intend</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Alice in Wonderland</td><td>Lewis Carroll</td><td class="yes">Yes</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Wind in the Willows</td><td>Kenneth Grahame</td><td class="yes">Yes</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Anna Karenina</td><td>Leo Tolstoy</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>David Copperfield</td><td>Charles Dickens</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Chronicles of Narnia</td><td>CS Lewis</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Emma</td><td>Jane Austen</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Persuasion</td><td>Jane Austen</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe</td><td>CS Lewis</td><td class="yes">Yes</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Kite Runner</td><td>Khaled Hosseini</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Captain Corelli’s Mandolin</td><td>Louis De Bernieres</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Memoirs of a Geisha</td><td>Arthur Golden</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Winnie the Pooh</td><td>AA Milne</td><td class="yes">Yes</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Animal Farm</td><td>George Orwell</td><td class="intend">Intend</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Da Vinci Code</td><td>Dan Brown</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>One Hundred Years of Solitude</td><td>Gabriel Garcia Marquez</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>A Prayer for Owen Meaney</td><td>John Irving</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Woman in White</td><td>Wilkie Collins</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Anne of Green Gables</td><td>LM Montgomery</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Far From The Madding Crowd</td><td>Thomas Hardy</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Handmaid’s Tale</td><td>Margaret Atwood</td><td class="intend">Intend</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Lord of the Flies</td><td>William Golding</td><td class="yes">Yes</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Atonement</td><td>Ian McEwan</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Life of Pi</td><td>Yann Martel</td><td class="yes">Partial<sup><a href="#note2">2</a></sup></td></tr><br /><tr><td>Dune</td><td>Frank Herbert</td><td class="yes">Yes</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Cold Comfort Farm</td><td>Stella Gibbons</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Sense and Sensibility</td><td>Jane Austen</td><td class="no">No</td></tr> <br /><tr><td>A Suitable Boy</td><td>Vikram Seth</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Shadow of the Wind</td><td>Carlos Ruiz Zafon</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>A Tale Of Two Cities</td><td>Charles Dickens</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Brave New World</td><td>Aldous Huxley</td><td class="intend">Intend</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time</td><td>Mark Haddon</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Love In The Time Of Cholera</td><td>Gabriel Garcia Marquez</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Of Mice and Men</td><td>John Steinbeck</td><td class="yes">Yes</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Lolita</td><td>Vladimir Nabokov</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Secret History</td><td>Donna Tartt</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Lovely Bones</td><td>Alice Sebold</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Count of Monte Cristo</td><td>Alexandre Dumas</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>On The Road</td><td>Jack Kerouac</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Jude the Obscure</td><td>Thomas Hardy</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Bridget Jones’s Diary</td><td>Helen Fielding</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Midnight’s Children</td><td>Salman Rushdie</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Moby Dick</td><td>Herman Melville</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Oliver Twist</td><td>Charles Dickens</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Dracula</td><td>Bram Stoker</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Secret Garden</td><td>Frances Hodgson Burnett</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Notes From A Small Island</td><td>Bill Bryson</td><td class="yes">Yes</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Ulysses</td><td>James Joyce</td><td class="intend">Intend</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Bell Jar</td><td>Sylvia Plath</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Swallows and Amazons</td><td>Arthur Ransome</td><td class="yes">Yes</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Germinal</td><td>Emile Zola</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Vanity Fair</td><td>William Makepeace Thackeray</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Possession</td><td>AS Byatt</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>A Christmas Carol</td><td>Charles Dickens</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Cloud Atlas</td><td>David Mitchell</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Color Purple</td><td>Alice Walker</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Remains of the Day</td><td>Kazuo Ishiguro</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Madame Bovary</td><td>Gustave Flaubert</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>A Fine Balance</td><td>Rohinton Mistry</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Charlotte’s Web</td><td>EB White</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Five People You Meet In Heaven</td><td>Mitch Albom</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Adventures of Sherlock Holmes</td><td>Sir Arthur Conan Doyle</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Faraway Tree Collection</td><td>Enid Blyton</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Heart of Darkness</td><td>Joseph Conrad</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Little Prince</td><td>Antoine De Saint-Exupery</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Wasp Factory</td><td>Iain Banks</td><td class="intend">Intend</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Watership Down</td><td>Richard Adams</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>A Confederacy of Dunces</td><td>John Kennedy Toole</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>A Town Like Alice</td><td>Nevil Shute</td><td class="intend">Intend</td></tr><br /><tr><td>The Three Musketeers</td><td>Alexandre Dumas</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Hamlet</td><td>William Shakespeare</td><td class="yes">Yes</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Charlie and the Chocolate Factory</td><td>Roald Dahl</td><td class="yes">Yes</td></tr><br /><tr><td>Les Miserables</td><td>Victor Hugo</td><td class="no">No</td></tr><br /></tbody><br /></table><br /></div><br /><br /><a name="note1"></a>1 - Read some plays and sonnets at school but by no means the whole lot. I doubt many people have truly done so or have the patience to put up with the overly-wordy prose.<br /><a name="note2"></a>2 - I started to read it but gave up because, frankly, it was shit.<br /><br /><br />So, thats the books taken care of. Next was a list on The Guardian website regarding 1000 (yes, one thousand!) songs you should hear before you die, or somesuch. And since it's my blog, I am going to list every last one of the buggers in the next post.Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-47403003904152454732009-04-22T18:24:00.003+00:002009-04-22T18:35:34.980+00:00Scrubbing up nicelyI've just started to watch the eighth (and probably last) season of <a href="http://scrubs-tv.com/">Scrubs</a>. I started watching this by accident way back 7 or 8 years ago when I caught an episode on a cable channel and thought it was just about the funniest off-beat comedy in recent times (it also helps that it has an eclectic and often rather good soundtrack). The characters are all very good and well acted, the scripts are good and consistently funny, but for me the absolute shining beacon of the program is one of the lead stars, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sarah_Chalke">Sarah Chalke</a> (note that this link points to wikipedia as her official site, or what appears to be her official site, seems to have been hacked by some butt monkey bigging up Palestinian suicide bombers).<br /><br />Most people will probably know her as Becky, the eldest child in <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0094540/">Roseanne</a>. But ever since the start of Scrubs she has been extremely foxy and now, 8 years on she is more stunning than ever. I'm not given to fawning over celebs like some star-struck loser but in her case, I make an exception. A lot of people say they have a 'list' - the ten (or five or whatever) essentially unobtainable celebrities who they would be allowed a pass for in a relationship (usually jokingly I'm sure because no matter who the celebrity I can't imagine your partner being overly keen on you bumping uglies with them). Anyhoo, my list consists of just one person and it's her - she really is awesome. Very elegant, classy, classically beautiful and always seems very genuine and down to earth.<br /><br />Probably turn out to be totally wrong about that and she's actually an evil, Machiavellian crazy woman, but since I'm never going to meet her (much less date her) I will carefully ignore that possibility. So, the point of this post? Well, there isn't one. I just fancied saying how much I fancy the behind off Ms Chalke. And it's my blog so ner.Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-15237765202037399622009-04-10T02:03:00.002+00:002009-04-10T02:04:58.576+00:00You know whta?I'm wrecked. Totally wrecked. I'm also still single but things are moving on. Would be happier if I wasn't single but what the hell - life is pretty reasonable. Happy Easter!! In a totally secular way, obviously.Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23985895.post-71331523108654866182009-02-06T18:45:00.003+00:002009-02-06T18:51:59.852+00:00Old friendsI was just browsing eMusic to grab this months allowance of music when I happened upon the new album from Telefon Tel Aviv (Immolate Yourself on BPitch Control / Finetunes, 2009), a Chicago based ambient outfit. I've come across them before on the strength of one tune that was on a down tempo mix album and I tried to get it on vinyl but the record company (a small indie label) said there was a limited run of about 1000 copies and they were all gone (although the guy did have a look around their office for me which I thought was rather nice of him).<br /><br />Anyway, this album might be their last as it seems on of the band members died, but the thing that came to mind was listening to the song that put me onto them in the first place - Sound in a dark Room. I found it on YouTube (where else?) and thought I'd share it with you, my readers. My advice: turn up the speakers or headphones (and if you only have laptop speakers then I strongly recommend headphones otherwise you just won't get the full effect of this), turn down the lights and bliss out for a few minutes.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vYnmP8HOZ00&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vYnmP8HOZ00&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Captain Flymohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08469010686028122036noreply@blogger.com0