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Chrissie

Milk!

One thing you London types don’t understand at all, and for completely different reasons us Brummie Provincials find hard to grasp, is the milk thing.

I really miss milk in glass bottles. Back in the stix, even if you didn’t have it delivered, you could stroll to your local corner shop, et voila, bottles of milk! Glass bottles. Loads of them.

London’s too ‘trendy’ and ‘high-speed’ for that. I have the most corner-shoppish corner shop you ever saw in your life down the road, but… no milk in glass bottles. It comes in plastic bottles. Very small ones, medium ones, huge ones. All plastic.
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A Strange Hobby

In case you didn’t know: the live recording of Arnold Layne (Pink Floyd’s first single, about some creepy guy who steals knickers off washing lines!), from the May 30th ’06 David Gilmour concert at the Albert Hall, came out as a single on Dec 26th.

‘So what?’ you ask. Okay. The show coincided with Mr. D. Bowie’s visit to the UK to film his cameo in Extras. He was asked to perform lead vocals. And he did a fabulous job.
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The Kids Are In Charge

Ho-hum. Opening of Parliament today, I see from the spectacle on TV. Isn’t this a summation of everything that’s wrong with politics? A grotesquely opulent, debauched waste of taxpayers’ money just to mark the mundane event of our overpaid politicians’ expensve holidays being officially over, and the reading of a speech by our outdated, superfluous, pointless, costly ‘monarch’ that she didn’t even bloody well write herself.

In a word: disgusting. I say this every year.

And worse than disgusting, fucking childish. Here we have a fellow given the nom de plume of Black Rod. Dressed as Widow Twanky, he goes up to the doors of the house, which, of course, ‘symbolically’ slams the door in his face (as he represents the monarchy) to declare their independence.
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The Internet is Fucked Up

Major annoyance of recent weeks: spammers using this domain as their return address, meaning I get all their bounces. It’s happening to quite a few people lately, apparently. I had it once before about a year ago, but on a much smaller scale (i.e. fewer bounces, for whatever reason).

I don’t know what the point of spam is. No one I know gives it the time of day. It’s a festering, parasitic nuisance and, I tend to think, a singularly ineffective method of advertising. More than anything else, you have to figure the people doing this are the saddest bastards on the planet—so much effort for shit that no one ever reads.
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Picture This

Well, second week as a Londonder has been… up and down.

On Monday, Paul and Mayko came over to watch X-Men 3. It was only upon her arrival that I discovered Mayko hadn’t seen the first two films! I think she enjoyed it okay anyway, though. She gave me as a gift some bonafide Japanese brush pens, which I look forward to experimenting with. (I haven’t done any drawing at all since the move… yet.)

Fred was his usual combo of cute and temperamental with the guests. We enjoyed a curry and some music before the film itself. A nice evening, though I wish the house was in a better state of organisation for entertaining guests. :-/
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House Move Stuff

So, Wednesday last week (the 4th), I viewed the new home for a final time before the actual move. I snapped a bit of local scenery, including this shot from by the front path of the house:

View From New House October 4 2006

On the moving day itself, after the van was packed, we had some final snaps outside the old place. This is me, Paul and my former next-door neighbour Lawry (who helped with packing; if you’re reading this, hi!)…
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I’m Here! I’m Here!

Urgh. Right, well, yes, I really did move on Friday. Not a joke, not an imaginary story! And right now the general feeling is… tired.

In theory, someone is coming in to fix the kitchen sink in the morning. Yup, an almost-perfect home has to have a fatal flaw, and this time it was a totally fucked-up sink. Guess it could be worse, but it’s been a right nuisance!
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