My fish..

Perform cabaret.
Those are really my fish, y'know. I think the camera flash confused them.
giant-desktop-clicky ~ webby-clicky!
(Sat 14th Dec 2002, 15:29, More)

I only have my TV guide to go on;


The fools don't cover Bournemouth :(
(Fri 9th Aug 2002, 16:03, More)

How moo cows really work

(Thu 8th Aug 2002, 11:06, More)

» Never Meet Your Heroes

I was tricked by PJ And Duncan.
When I was little I thought PJ And Duncan (now Ant and Dec) were great. I went to see them in panto-mon-mine at Lewisham, and was bought up on stage for the audience-participation part.

Me, and two MUCH OLDER children, were given musical instruments. I had a squeezey-horn thing. We had to "play" them in order to make a song.

Only my one would not, and I was terrified. 100s of people watching me and laughing :( This went on for AT LEAST AN HOUR.

Once the laughing had died down, DUNCAN took my horn musical instrument and squeezed it and low-and-behold it worked perfectly (infact: a man in the soundbox had pressed a button to make it sound like it had, it was a dummy one). They gave it back to me, still didn't work, they took it back, it worked, they gave it to me, AND I FUCKING CRIED AT THEM.

All I remember now is crying, a giant goodie bag, and a life-long loathing of Ant and fucking Dec.

/fumes
(Thu 25th May 2006, 16:25, More)

» Fire!

Evil Devil Fires
I live on the very-edge of Bourne Valley (a pretty place in Bournemouth, through which the Bourne Valley runs - into the seeeea). It's all heathland here, and we get a lot of fires in the summer. They *rarely* come near the house, and when they do they're usually put out quickly enough by the fire-brigade. HOWEVER!

This time, I was inside, with my curtains drawn, PS2ing I think when the doorbell goes. I go downstairs but no-one's there, so I guess it was just kids, or there's a catalogue outside or something. BUT upon turning around; I see out of the kitchen window, kitchen door, and dinining room windows - pure angry red flame! As a seemingly mad BA Photography student, my first point-of-call was running back upstairs and grabbing my camera.

Then I got outside (the cars weren't outside so people thought no one was in, but rang the bell to check) and saw a kinda huge fire attacking my house;



Fire Service had already been rang; but as per every fire - they have quite a bit of trouble finding us - so looking along the heath we see fire-men randomally appearing a few 100 metres along, looking at us, and realising they'd missed again. Before they got here, my Grandad appeared and went to the backgarden to try and put out the above fire, with a garden hose. We needed to go back and drag him out before the smoke got to him.

It eventually moved to the front of the house, and we all honestly thought that was it for our lovely house



But alas, no; very borked drainage, smashed and cracked windows on that side of the house, and said side of house was also completely black. The grass in the gardens was kinda dead, and I even had my own small victory over the fire by putting out some leaves. Go me.

But what freaked me out later was inspecting the above photo, someone pointed out that the flame had a face;



Not edited at all! DEVIL FIRE!
(Fri 4th Nov 2005, 17:54, More)

» My computer gave away my secrets

I went to help format a friend's PC,
after it was formatted. And despite me hammering it into him that "you will lose anything we haven't backed up"; he comes up with "oops, my Mum's wedding photographs were on there".

However, as it was a fresh format, I knew a recovery app would probably get them back. I told him not to do anything on him (I had visions of him creating a 40gb bitmap in paint and wiping all the magical magnetic data).

I return with some file-rescue app and load it up. Magically we can choose to only recover pictures! I think you now know where this is going.

End result was me having to sit next to my friend for a good hour whilst porn picture after porn picture (and some were quite worrying) flashed up, with a 3 second or so pause in which I could look even more horrified and my friend could make up a whole new excuse for it's being there.
(Fri 10th Feb 2006, 12:00, More)

» Petty Sabotage

At my old college..


Fuck yeah \m/
(Sun 8th May 2005, 22:24, More)

» My First Experience of the Internet

Before I had the Internet, I dreamt of the Internet; I was 12, so the dream
consisted of me getting the Internet and then watching all of the pornography. I woke up even more excited about my future.

My first concious experience of the Internet was, still aged 12, at a 'net café', but not one of those trendy places with '@' symbols and paninis everywhere. It was quite clearly a man's spare room. My Grandfather took me and I used my allotted half-an-hour to learn about frogs. We had the interwebs installed at home a few months later.

Within a few days of getting online at home, I had a (utterly utterly terrible) website on Tripod. It had a spinning 3D Java clock, scrolling status bar text and countless interesting lists of things I liked. Soon it even had a page about Smurfs, in order of my favourite Smurf to least favourite Smurf. When I was a sad-offline-child, I'd been teaching myself Delphi (a (terrible) programming language); the Internets became the perfect place to flog my (free)wares. Doorz 3000 was a (terrible) Windows shell that somehow made it into PC Format and PC Answers magazines and is still used by some (terrible) people today. I also claim to have invented the word 'blog': one of my (terrible) applications was called 'Web log' and it would live in your system tray, download a static HTML file from your defined FTP server, add your latest entry into it, and reupload it. The executable was called blog.exe, this was before blogging was called blogging. I am aware this is just a coincidence, no one used this piece of software (it was terrible), but it is a good thing to throw out when I'm bored and pretending to be an Internet Millionaire at networking shindigs.

In 2002 I found b3ta, became an internet-pervert (thanks, Rob), bought fucksocks.co.uk and started asking for people to send me photographs of them with socks on their willies to add to the gallery of me and my friends. At the time I was routinely recognised around town for being the 'sock guy', half a million people have seen those photographs.

Since then I've worked freelance, been the eCommerce director for a multi-million-pound-company (it turns out that is quite stressful, I had a bit of a breakdown) and now run my own little venture selling hair dye and other brightly coloured things. It is doing quite well: Look Magazine featured it a month ago and it was in Stylist Magazine yesterday. £10 of samples for an editorial feature is much better than paying for advertising. Soon I will be able to afford to eat real food and heat my flat!

I was a (terrible) reclusive child (über-bullied), I think the Internet stopped me from going completely mad and gave me an outlet. I have a nice balance of geekyness and socialness now, but I do still feel like I grew up online rather than in swing parks. This is fine, the Internet is a nice place to live.
(Fri 23rd Mar 2012, 11:48, More)