Diary of an up and coming sociopath

Yesterday, we did what has become the traditional thing of recent weeks, going to the pub, the other pub, Tescos, and then back to Josh’s to watch music television until we’re all too tired to go on. One video stood out in particular, it was one of the newer Linkin Park efforts. I have but one huge problem with Linkin Park - they are the very definition of Middle Class, putting out records that try to sound like they’re full of rage and anger, but are in fact just whinging about being middle class. I mean, for god’s sake, “Chester”! Is there a more middle class name!? Anyway, the video I saw featured a teenage girl, sitting looking upset and pissed off in a variety of locations, such as, her middle-class school, her middle-class home, her middle-class bedroom, while people ignored her problems. Presumably these problems involved things such as, “My parents won’t let me use the car” or “My parents don’t like my boyfriend” or perhaps even, “My parents won’t increase my allowance so I can afford to buy more of my trendy rock-chick clothes from Camden” (I know, I know, she’s american, but shh, I’m insulting.) It’s just really, really embarassing on behalf of my middle-class white peers.

The other day, Paul and I were conversing about key events in one’s life. We ascertained that the fact that we both got work AP, and that he is a programming geek can be pretty much traced all the way back to the trip we went on in Year 9, to the Mendips, where our indifferent group leader allowed us to wander Bristol shopping, rather than seeing the historical sights, and where Paul bought a Magazine with borland C++ on. Of course, the crux of that whole even lies some weeks before, where we were challenged by a group of girls who wanted to swap with us so that they could go on the trip with their friends. We refused to back down (justifiably so, I might add) unable to see why THEY didn’t swap groups, and as such events unfolded as they did. Likewise, much of the past 3 years can be traced back to some time in mid-2000 when I downloaded some King Adora tracks off Napster (ah, the good old days) Saw them at Reading, leading me to take Nikki to see them in Febuary the next year, where we saw a band called Easyworld doing their first proper tour, which lead me to buy the single for myself and for Nikki, and then the mini-album, and then further gigs, joining the messageboard, sleeping over at Relly’s where we met some of our best friends, some new acquaintances, and, incidentally, some of the most disgusting examples of humanity it was my misfortune to commune with, and so on and soforth for the last god knows how long.

This, of course, got my wondering about fate. I don’t generally believe in fate as in predestination, more as a mathematical function of the random universe. Had we not stuck fast in the decision to stay in our group going to the Mendips, would I be doing gamestesting for Aqua-Pacific now? Would Paul have had a year out and be in the band he’s in? Some things, most certainly not, some most certainly yes. Again, if I hadn’t downloaded those King Adora tracks, would we like Easyworld now? Would we still be friends with Relly, Eri and Paul? Those two decisions I talked about earlier affected the course of years. I just thought of another, the time Paul and Josh bought FFE round my house to play, and we all discovered a shared love for Elite, and subscribed to the newsgroup - skip a few years, and Tom, who I met because of that, lives with us in Oxford. I suspect, however, that these are the biggest life-altering events of all. A lost limb or death of a relative may suddenly change things, but arguably these are minute, compared to how radically one small decision might alter the whole course, like how throwing a rock in a river might disturb the bed slightly, but only a fork would change the whole course. (A fork in the river, not throwing a fork in, for any comedians reading this.)

Having said all that, I suspect those kind of decisions can’t be watched out for, only in hindsight can you look back and say “Well, if I hadn’t made that choice things would be different”. It’s also intereting to think what level you can break things down to, but I think you’re getting too low-level once you start wondering if my downloading King Adora can be traced back to subtle musical tastes being built up over time, though I’m almost inclined to say the downloading of Napster itself would count. Hmm. I think unpicking the tapestry of life becomes difficult when you realise you have no idea where threads start.

Anyway. Enough pseudo-philosophising. There was a third part to this entry but I forgot it while I was writing the second, so it’s once again lost forever in the ether, perchance for me to capture it again, or perhaps forever lost to humanity. I’m sure history would’ve really benefitted from it, though.

So, I’m lying in bed asleep when I am woken up by Mum. Nikki is on the phone, she says. “bhgubluh?” I say back. I take a moment to compose myself. “Give it here” I say with slightly more conviction.

6 hours later, I arrive in Birmingham for a book reading/signing that I didn’t know existed this morning.

Of course, arriving in Birmingham turned out to be the easy part. A deviation from the normal route proved to bemost excellent, cutting many miles off the journey, if not minutes. This, however, was all more than made up for when it turned out that the new Bull Ring (which has been tiled in what appear to be giant thumb tacks, or possibly dustbin lids) and its associated construction work has left us with some slightly changed roads, and the nigh-impossible task of getting to a car park. Forget that the one-way system left us stranded in the wrong area of Birmingham for 20 minutes while we systematically tried every potential exit road, only to return again and again to the same part; forget that the drivers in Birmingham are as rabid and insane as wild dogs that are also vampires; forget that the signs in Birmingham tend to point to nowhere, roads have been closed off entirely at random, and nothing is what it seems, and remember that even on the best of days, I HATE BIRMINGHAM. Rapidly, plans for getting a bite to eat prior to the reading were scrapped as we fruitlessly navigated the dante-esque traffic system of Birmingham, and one point managing to end up about 4 miles out of the city centre and heading towards Walsall, until eventually, ending up at the car park we were aiming for, if 40 minutes behind schedule.

And that was the FIRST hurdle.

Next, we were faced with the terrible truth that, while we both had money, neither of us had any change. Certainly not £5, which is what parking costs in Birmingham these days, for 4 hours. I left Josh in the car park, awaiting robbery and possible sodomisation while I went to find some change. no sooner had I left the car park when I was pounced upon by someone wanting change. Luckily for me, I was prepared and told him I didn’t have any change, which, let’s face it, was almost true. I felt gleefully like one of the evil samaritans, crossing the road as he told me “even 20p will do” but, let’s face it, I’m not a fucking charity! Not in broad daylight anyway.

I decided upon Toys R Us as the most likely venue for change, and purchased with my £20 note, a single bar of Dairy Milk. I had briefly considered buying something as inexpensive as possible, but I was hungry and figured a Dairy Milk might cover it for a few hours. I returned to find Josh lockied in the car, huddled under a blanket in the back seat, fearing for his life, but parking was paid for and we exitted the car park, leg 2 of things done with.

Next we had the task of actually FINDING Waterstones. 15 minutes of Random wanderings proved, if nothing else, that Birmingham is just as hard to navigate on foot as it is on wheel, so we asked for directions. Unfortunately, during this period of wanderage, a drunked/drugged irishman requested that we buy his last copy of The Big Issue from him. It was stale and soggy and he had that kind of insane look in his eye that says “I need my crack!” so I paid the man his coinage and chucked away the magazine Some might suggest that it was cowardly, but to be fair I consider £1.20 a fair price to pay for my safety.

Once we arrived at Waterstones, things proceeded failry smoothly. We purchased our copies of his new book, for a generous £6 off, and sat down on the most uncomfortable metal chairs in existance, to await the Man himself. And, as promised, he did arrive. THat is, Douglas “Doug” Coupland.

He was entertaining, anyway. Much more sedate than I would’ve thought, looking nothing like the old video of him I saw online from maybe 10 years ago, and far less pretentious than I imagined he’d be. He confessed a love of The Simpsons, a hatred of libraries, and some insider tips to get books published. He “interviewd” himself and spoke of Kraft Dinners, which perpetuated an enjoyable Canadian Stereotype for us. He told us about the Chemotherapy Fun Pack he was assembling and sending to his friend tomorrow, who has inoperable cancer. He talked about his experiences in the UK so far, and threw Mars Bars into the crowd, in honous of Mars’ present proximity. Then, after about 45 minutes of talk, he read a few short sections from his new book, and then took signings.

The signing process was long, as it ever is. You’re often faced with the horrible problem of what wotty and intelligent thing to say to someone who’s heard it all, and probably from people better dressed and smarter than you. I opted to simply wish his cancerous friend well, an act which would carry more weight if he knew mme, because I rarely wish anyone well, much less anyone I’ve never met, but I figure since I’ve been given so much pleasure from Coupland’s books that I figure we’re karmically realigned now. Each signed book was also stamped with the message “WARMEST PERSONAL REGARDS - DOUGLAS COUPLAND” as a way of proving authenticity. There’s something amusing about having “Warmest personal regards” as a mass produced message stamped on hundreds of books.

After this, Josh and I finally got the foodstuffs we were craving. I say foodstuff, it was McDonalds. One step up from polystyrene, one step down from cardboard. I can’t say I enjoyed it, but then it was a McDonalds, at some point in your early teens you stop enjoying McDOnalds and start seeing it for what it is - food of reliably invariable wquality. It might not be nice, but at least it’s consistent. I was reminded, actualy, of something I forgot to write about from when I was in Brighton. I was remarking how Ronald McDonald had perhaps dated a little and perhaps should be brought up to date.. Maybe they could make him a skater, I suggested to Nikki and Relly at the time. Lo and behold, if Paul didn’t bring his Happy Meal over and there was Ronald McDonalds, drawn in a slightly manga-influenced fashion with Skater Gear on! I should be in Marketting. I know what the kids want.

Leaving Birmingham, we were again mugged for another copy of the Big Issue. I really should’ve have chucked the first one away. We paid the guy but refused his magazine, instead suggesting that he tried to sell it again. Let’s be fair, we were only paying him to leave us alone, why bother with the pretense of wanting a magazine? We made it back to the car and mercifully, out of Birmingham, unscathed, the philosophy of “pay the man and he’ll go away” winning out once more.

Thus concludes things on this particular day.

Everything here has it’s story. The monitor that’s been broken for so long I can’t remember if it was ever fixed, that I got for completing my Exams. GCSEs or A-Levels? I forget. I’d expect the latter, it can’t be 4 years old already. The Fopp bag I bought the Mars Volta album in on a lunch break when I was at AP 2 weeks ago today. The photo of us Nikki gave me when we came back home from Uni, of us at some family gathering mum dragged us to last summer. The coffee mug Nikki drank out of the other day. The Worms 2 CD I bought because I needed a legitimate copy to play against Dave after my pirated CD got broken. Happy Meal toys from over a year ago. Happy meal toys from less than a month ago. A printer cartridge for the old Lexmark that lasted, with no faults, for about 4 years, before just dying on us. The joypad Dad bought when he wanted to try the PC versions of Tomb Raider, that I stole after he didn’t use it for 6 months. The wallet mum bought me from spain about 10 years ago that I’m just hanging on to to see how much damage it can take before it stops performing the basic function of holding money and cards. A packet of Tesco value cookies that really aren’t worth the very small amount of money I paid for them. The copy of The Divine Comedy I bought last term and fought my way through. My chequebooks, used so frequently for eBay purchases over a year ago, but now rarely used except to pay bills. The Mint Crisp I bought yesterday, that I’m about to eat. My phone, which I’ve had for 2 years, I think, that I got because I ran out of money to pay credit on my first one and it got locked. The helf-empty 12-pack of Classic Cola that I’m hiding one can of proper Coke in, for emergencies, that Nan bought me because she thinks I like Classic Cola more than I do, but it’s easier just to accept it and drink the stuff than try and explain. Empty envelopes from people who bought my crap off ThriftstoreUK, one with Relly and Paul’s address scrawled on the back so I could remember where to send the CD. A pile of “Sonic: The Comic” issues that mum found and I wanted to sort through before she chucked them away, which I bought bi-weekly(?) for a good few years. The watch I went to buy with Pad before my GCSEs so I had a timepiece, that was too big and chunky to wear on your wrist, and has spent its time almost totally in my pocket, even more so now that the strap has broken. My ticket stub, to add to the collection. The box for Precision CD-Rs that I now keep my best albums and singles in when I want to transport them up and down between Oxford and Leamington. The Buffy mug I got at Easter. The CD-R pen I’ve used since we first got a CD-Writer. The first PC I ever built, with no prior experience, one Christmas Day (2000?). A jiffy bag one of my Hundredweight 7-Inches arrived in, from Canada after I spent ages trying to get one and ordered about 8 off the internet, 4 of which actually arrived. My 2nd Amendmant posters. Nikki’s. My You & Me posters. A Hail to the Thief promo slide puzzle I got, that Nikki deranged and I spent ages re-arranging again. The headphones I bought after I lost my other ones. The Star Trek talking alarm clock that woke me up for years, but which eventually fell prey to batteries that never got replaced. The chalice I made out of gold easter egg foil last time I was here, that ended up looking more like an eggcup. My comics, my DVDs, my T-shirts.

This is my life. Maybe I’m too sentimental. Maybe too materialistic. Maybe I just like making the simple things in life sounding really complex and pretentious ;-) Actually, I think spending so much time around my own crap just made me start thinking about its context in life. Luckily, because it is a mere 7 days until my Birthday, I will presumably soon have a lot more crap to think about ;-)

Haha! Slashertastic. Yesterday Josh, Nikki and I went to see Freddy Vs. Jason. It fucking rocked. Total old-skool horror, gratuitous nudity, high-pressure blood spraying all over the place, none of this shakey-cam, reliant on twist crap. Josh and I loved it, though Nikki was a bit scared during the first half, and I have the bruises and fingernail gouges to prove it. She did, however, become less scared once Freddie and Jason started going at it, apparantly because they’re freaks or something ;-)

Went to Stratford earlier. Damn comic shop was closed, so I guess I’ll be going up later this week again. We went to the record fair, and failed utterly to find any Easyworld promos. I did get a “this picture” promo for £2, which was a decent enough catch for me. Nikki bought an Autophilia single, which was thankfully, not for her. After that, we went to HMV and I bought “Doolittle”. I’m so extravagant these days - 2 albums in as many weeks! Doolittle is proving to be very excellent, I’ve gone through it a couple of times and it’s much more listenable than Surfer Rosa.

Disappointing, no-one I e-mailed from the Muse insultation crowd has replied to me. And I was so polite.

Anyway. That’s the holiday weekend over, I guess it’s another few days of solid boredom for me. I must find something productive to do with my time…

But until then, there’s always Angel DVDs! And did I mention it’s 8 days until my birthday? That’s only 6 shopping days, if you want to make the post! 8 days people. 8. Eight. Acht. Huit. Octamundo. Okay, now go to the shops. NOW! Shoo!

So, I was just lookin through my webstats, and I couldn’t help but notice I’d had a lot of people get to my site looking for stuff about the new Muse album. A quick check on the Muse post of a couple of weeks back reveals much. See for yourselves. Interesting that I should attract such comments. It’s not even like I did a serious review of the album, just what I thought the first time I listened to it.

Anyway, to make things more interesting, I sent a personalised e-mail to anyone who left a valid address, and I’m anticipating some interesting replies. I’m definitely adding this post to the “best of” too. Wow. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened all week!

Christ, I’ve been neglectful. Still, that’s mainly because the week would pretty much read:

Monday:
Woke up at Midday. Watched a few episodes of Angel. At at about 7:00. Watched more angel. Spoke on IRC. Went to bed.

Tuesday:
Woke up at midday…

Ad Fridayum.

So I’ve skipped most of those kind of updates. Today, however, things actually got done. Well, yesterday as well. First, we went to the pub. That is, Me, nikki, Josh and Paul. We met Al there, who the other 3 know and thus I have a kind of passing acquaintance with. We did try contacting Si but no-one’s quite sure where he is. Last time we heard about him, he was driving up to Hull.

Anyway. Did the usual Pub things. They’ve taken away the pornographic spot the difference machine, which was upsetting. Of course, the pub was utterly dead, beccause every one of their usual clientele has gone to sodding Reading. I hope they choke on their tents! I would really have liked to have been at Reading, it’s just that the lineup was shit and I couldn’t afford it, so in many was, I didn’t actually want to be there at all. We went back to Josh’s afterwards and he gave me my Birthday present inadvance - a Michealangelo figure from the new Turtles cartoon. He was my favourite (the turtle, not Josh, though Josh is one of my better friends..) and he will be displayed with pride in Oxford. I’m almost moved to buying the other 3. Frankly, everyone is going to have to think up some really good presents to top that.

Today Nikki and I had a wander around Leamington Didn’t buy anything in particular, though Nikki did get me a “Daily Milk with Mint” which are presumably going to replace the (not to be confused with ice-cream) Mint Crsp bar. They’re cheaper, but they taste a bit cheaper too, so it’s a double edged sword. I guess Mint Crisps are going to have to join the realms of food I’m not going to be eating ever again, along with the original and good Yorkie bars (when Rowntree existed) and Tesco’s Fudge Cake. At least I’ll still have the memories.

And a good target for when I get my time machine operational.

We have recently been filling the time playing the original and best Quake. We found a map I made ages ago called “Maze4″ which was part of a joint project Josh and I were going to do, but that only my half got done ;-) It was a huge labyrinth with a few secrets, some of which even surprised me after so long, and it turns out to be a lot of fun, even if it was slightly broken and incomplete.

Rivetting stuff, huh? Last week’s total stuff-fest has given way to a week of solid boredom. Looks like we’ll be heading back to Oxford around the 15th though, because Nikki’s working then, so that should be fun. At least a change of venue to do nothing in. The end is in sight.

So, what else? I invoiced AP for the services I rendered the other week, so hopefully a nice fat cheque will come through in short order compensating me for, let’s face it, work I’d have probably done for free. I sent other things through the post as well, though it’s not the time to reveal what. Also, Nikki and I bought Tickets to go and see Skin at Shepherds Bush Empire, where we saw Radiohead. Easyworld are supporting, and she’s apparantly very good, so I’ll listen to the album and find out just how worth it this gig is going to be.

I guess that’s all for now. I will say that on Monday we plan to go to Stratford. On a bank Holiday. Remember last time that happenned? Hopefully the fact it’s a Monday and that we plan to go early will work in our favour.

And, just to let you know that I’m not a complete waster, in my free time I am, besides watching DVDs, mostly doing 2 things: Compiling stuff for my ‘zine, and writing a comic script for Epic Submissions. I don’t like to talk about projects like this because for every 10 I start, 1 gets part the “idea” stage and very rarely do any of them end up finished, but hopefully one or both of these will get done to completion. Mike knows what I’m talking about. Incidentally, Mike made me laugh by saying that the beginning to my last entry read like something out of a Quantum Leap episode, which I consider to be both funny and complimentary.

Some days, the world really is against you:

I decided to have an egg sandwich for lunch/dinner/snacktime. Firstly, I had the wrong kind of bread. No big probalem, but it turned out to be the first part of a rich tapestry of errors. In order to boil the eggs, I would need a saucepan. Ultimately, I chose a saucepan that was too small, and it kept boiling over. I had to turn the hob down for brief periods to stop this ocurring - this was, of course, after I turned on the correct hob, having started up the wrong one previously. When putting the eggs in the water, I managed to crack both of them, meaning that as they cooked, innards seeped out and floated maliciously in the water cooking uselessly there. By the time the eggs were cooked, one of the shells was literally half-empty where all the crap had come out, though I didn’t discover this until after I’d managed to break the handle of the spoon I was using to scoop them out of the water. I then destroyed a piece of bread trying to spread the butter on it, and had to get another.

After all that, it was an okay sandwich, but I’m not convinced it was worth it.

Book: Edgar Allen Poe - The Pit and the Pendulum, and other stories
CD: Mars Volta - De-Loused in the Comatorium
DVD: Angel Series 1
TV: Nothing. TV, Go home.
Comic: Ultimate Spider-Man
Graphic Novel: League of Extraordinary Gentlemen
Website: the Straight Dope
IRC: Anti-Matter
e-mail: Popbitch Mail Out
Livejournal: Paul O’Brien
Drink: Vimto
Eat: Dairy Milk
Wear: 80s Tees
Restuarant: Nando’s
Shop: Comic Legends
Town: Stratford
Girl: Nikki
Friends: Relly & Paul
Celebrity: Neil Gaiman

Okay. Once again, I’m back from one of those summer festivals I like so much, following a lot of driving.

Nikki and I woke left at about 10:00 for Stafford. The journey that had taken so many hours a day and a half previously was completed in a decidedly small amount of time, and we parked up and went to find the arena. The queue for the arena was quite horifically long, so once it started moving we just kind of merged in somewhere near the start - very european of us. As we were going through the checks, Nikki was asked “Do you have any drugs in that bag?”. Not the most discrete way of checking that kind of thing, I imagine, especially since she just said “Er, no.” and they let her through without actually checking. I’d have been tempted to say “Nope, they’re shoved up my arse in a condom actually.”, but there’s always the danger they’ll believe you and start checking with that. Definitely not a joke for the airport, that one.

Once inside we wandered over to the JJB arena where Relly and Graham were waiting for us. We had with us 3 bottles of Coca Cola. I may not have mentioned, but at Virgin sponsored festivals, you can only get Virgin sponsored cola. Virgin Cola, that is. It’s vile, vile stuff. Brown piss-water that resides about a million notches down from even Sainsbury’s Classic Cola. Relly was therefore glad that we were able to fuel her coke habit without having to resort to the low-grade shit that has god knows what cut in with it, and also that we could give her some Coca Cola too. We went in to the JJB tent to see Bell X1, who weren’t bad. It turns out to be a good thing that Damien Rice left the group, but more about that later. I find it really hard to stay interested in bands when I don’t know the songs, but Bell X1 managed to at least entertain me, so they’re good enough for that.

After they finished, we went and sat over by the main stage for a while, catching the end of Echo and the Bunnymen on the way. Reel Big Fish were, as you might expect, everything a ska band can be. That is, not that much. Musically they were very…ska. I’m not sure how many songs they played, because they all sounded, er, identical. The betwixt-song banter and lyrics were funny though. After the first song, the lead singer introduced the band as the Foo Fighters, and himself as Dave Grohl. You just know some people believed him. They didn’t play “Take On Me” which upset Nikki and Relly, but they did play the song I knew that was in baseketball, so I was happy. At this point the weather was actually nice, Nikki changed into her bikini and the rest of us put suntan cream on. It’s touching in a naive way to look back on those times.

We then went over to see Damien Rice Due to Kelly Osbourne’s unfortunate cancellation due to a severe lack of ticket sales illness which also affected her own tour meant that Martin Grech had already been on and the rest of the stage had been fucked about with a little, so we actually caught the end of The Bee’s set, which Relly liked, though I confess to not actually remembering much about. This was possibly because as soon as we settled in, I rushed back over to get myself some food. Those that know me will no doubt have heard my tales of Reading 2000. It’s probably even on the website. But it goes like this: At Reading 2000, there was a carvery van selling the best beef rolls I’ve ever tasted in conjunction with some pretty excellent chicken and chips. £4 for the beef, £2 for half a roast chicken and chips. I remember it as if it was yesterday. During the more sedate parts of Reading 2000, I would get myself some of this food and go sit in the car to eat in peace with a comic to read and a comfortable place to sit. Not very rock ‘n’ roll, I’m sure, but it made me happy. Anyway, since then, every time I go to a festival, I look out for the same type of place. Once again, I found one. I procured myself a beef roll, for £4.50, and indeed, I was not disappointed. It was the nicest Beef Roll I’ve eaten this year. Nikki had a bite and agreed that yes, the beef was SUPERIOR to normal forms of meat, especially thos sold at Festivals, and Relly might have agreed, but Beef causes her to have a severe attack of death, so she’s not too keen on it.

Damien Rice then played, and was utterly dire. The general concensus was that while we thought he sucked, the music press would no doubt be laying tributes at his feet for a seminal performance - if this occurs, it will lend credance to the belief I’m developing that most festival reviews are written without the actual attendance of the reviewer being compulsory. Athlete were next, which who Nikki and Relly had been waiting for. Personaly, I’m not a huge fan of their untermockney vocals and casio-bastardising tunes, and without wanting to sound overly vitriolic, if this is the last gasp of Britpop, then it sure as hell sounds like it. The performance was lacklustre, and a speaker near us that was playing its output a second out of step with the rest of the sound meant we decided to sod off and watch the end of the Hives. I’m not actually very good at distinguishing one Hives song from another, I discovered, but it’s not my kind of music. They are not my new favourite band.

Ash were next, and were one of the bands I’d been waiting for most. Every song they did was glorious, even the 3 new ones. Festivals aren’t the best place to debut tracks, to be sure, but Ash pulled it off rather well. A Life Less Ordinary is one of my favourite songs, so it was really good to see that Live again. This is the third time in 3 years I’ve seen Ash, though I don’t think things’ll ever make up for missing out on seeing them in a smallish venue, at least, not until I get another chance. I’m just praying they don’t go all Arena on us. Nikki and Relly’s cheerleading to Burn Baby Burn was probably the best dancing I saw all day, though there was one guy during Coldplay to whom dancing involved “waving arms around while jumping around in a little circle”, and he somehow managed to make that fit every song. Tim did point out, from onstage, that for a band doing songs about Summer, it was not the most fitting weather, the rain having come out in full force around that point.

The Foos were next. Graham and Relly had gone to pack up the tent and weren’t around for the first third of the set, but Nikki and I enjoyed UberGeek Grohl’s music. The cover of “low” was a pretty good thing, though to be honest, the Foos aren’t ever going to be as good as they were at Reading 2000. Probably, I suspect, because they didn’t have a whole album of crappy new material to choose from. It was during the Foo’s set, however, that THE INCIDENT occurred.

THE INCIDENT scarred us all deeply.

THE INCIDENT involved one of a group of standard festival meatheads such as you get, urinating into a paper pint cup and placing it on the ground a couple of metres away. We were trying to think up a way to tip it on the floor, to get it away, anything to stop it potentially getting knocked towards us. Every time someone came within about a metre of it, we all looked on in horror. We were all forming our own plans to get rid of the foul thing (mine involved using a deflated plastic sofa to drop on top of it and hopefully contain the spillage) when some lunkhead strode purposefully through the gap surrounding THE CUP and kicked in, full pelt, inot an unsuspecting couple, showering them with piss. The four of us stood their, utterly dumbstruck. Obviously, relieved that we hadn’t been the recipients of the urinary offerings, but dumbstruck nonetheless. In our frantic attempts to get it away from us, we had neglected, somehow, to alert other people that it was there. Nikki and Relly ruched forth with wet wipes and tissues to help clear it up, but the guy was apologetic. He thought it was beer. HE THOUGHT IT WAS BEER. Dear god. It wasn’t until Relly said that the full horror dawned upon the two of them. Sweet jesus. I can’t remember what song the Foos were playing, it was a new one, but I guarantee next time any of us hear it, we’ll just flash back to seeing the cup fly through the air.

Besides that, the Foos were good anyway. Next was Coldplay. Originally, Nikki and I had been quite torn over seeing Coldplay or Feeder, but decided on the former if only because we saw Feeder some sixth months ago. Coldplay were very good. Very very good. The new material works exceptionally well live, though I think that of the four times I’ve seen them, the band were most at ease last time, high up on the main stage, in the light, before the second album had exploded their already massive popularity. That said, “Clocks”, as the first song of the encore, was a transcendental experience. I’m always a sucker for laser shows, and green lasers especially, and clocks is one of my favourite Coldplay songs, so it made Coldplay almost worth to ticket price alone. This was not a festival I felt cheated by.

However.

It seems that every time Relly gets into my car, we spend a good 60% of the journey stationary, or moving at less than 5mph. I’m not blaming it on her at all (though maybe, like the Rain god in H2G2, she is some kind of Traffic goddess…) but it is certainly an unfortunate coincidence. Leaving the car park was just insane. We were practically stationary for 2 and a half hours, and it wasn’t until the guy in front decided to turn around and leave from another gate, that we followed him and found that the pick up point entrance had been turned into an exit that let us straight onto the A5, and what’s more, no-one else seemed to know about it. We drove straight out. I can’t emphasise enough in words how annoying it was to have waited almost 3 hours and to find an exit like that. There is utterly no organisation on planet V-Festival, it seems. The drive back was subsequently speedy and sedate, if only because I was concentrating on the road, and Nikki and Graham fell asleep.

Relly and Graham slept over on the living room floor, mainly so they didn’t have to stay in a cold and wet tent. We got up about 10 in the morning and the four of us sat in the garden talking and drinking coffee and/or tea until 12:30, when we set off for the Train Station so they could catch the train back to Reading, which presumably went okay since I’ve not heard otherwise from anyone. I dropped Nikki back off in Coventry, and came home, and set about writing up the past day’s events.

Which brings us to now.

I don’t have anything new to say right now, isn’t that enough!?

Maybe later.

1. How much time do you spend online each day?
Well, my PC tends to be connected 24/7. Currently my PC has been online, and therefore connected for 17 days straight. I’m probably at my PC for up to 12 hours of that, but it varies heavily. At least an hour, usually 4 to 5. It’s not like I sit at the PC constantly, it’s just that doing anything in my room necessitates being near tot he PC so I’ve always kind of got one eye on it.

2. What is your browser homepage set to?
The amazingly original, yet practical “about:blank”. It’s been that for a good few years now. It really speeds up the browser loading time and I think everyone should agree it’s the only option that makes sense if you’re into using more than one copy of IE for surfing.

3. Do you use any instant messaging programs? If so, which one(s)?
I am very much against the use of Instant Messengers. I use MSN as a way to communicate with a very small portion of individuals that I can’t immediately get to on IRC, and to leave detailed away messages to my friends, but in general I loathe IM programs. IRC is no frills chat, with a simplistic yet functional interface. MSN and the like encourage private over group conversation, which is one of the huge gripes I have with it. Don’t even get me started on graphical smilies.

4. Where was your first webpage located?
Depends. The first I made would’ve been located under “DWClarkLtd” on AOL’s homepages server, and is currently mirrored in the soup section of my site. I am aware it’s crap. The first site that was ever “mine” would’ve been “The Silo” which I should probably find a couple of copies of for this site. The original was also located on AOL’s homepages server, though it rapidly moved to Tripod. The first site I was involved with would’ve been “Anti-Matter Productions” which was, I believe, first located at http://www.anti-matter.clara.net, at least, the first version I was involved with was.

5. How long have you had your current website?
Hmm. I’ve owned the domain for about 18 months. The current site is a lot younger than that, about 5 months at the most. This is, I believe, the third “full” site to occupy this domain, which originally pointed to a site on m3fe.com, which. I had to buy my own hosting when it becme apparant I was using more space than the rest of the domain, even Paul, who was giving me the free hosting ;-)