Blogs

Its that time of year again, Perseus has gone into the garage for an MOT.

Its no massive secret that I'm a big fan of the Unreal Tournament series...its the little clues like calling all my servers Deck 16, and adding in my own "KILLING SPREE!" commentary in other games.

I aimed to set off this morning at 07:30, giving myself a full hour to get there, get showered and sat at my desk as normal. I got all my stuff together the night before so that I could concentrate on just checking the machine over and getting started. I left at 07:28 and ploughed on up to the the Rushey Way, Beech Lane, Wilderness lane, Wokingham road and on.

This last weekend I went on a Basic Coaching Course with the Air Training Corps (ATC). The usual panic of trying to get all the paperwork signed and apporved, and find the documentation we were meant to bring was added to by my car springing a heater matrix leak which makes it unsuitable for long trips.

Kate and I have finally finished moving all our stuff into the new house in the scarily 'pleasant' Lower Earley. Tonight will be the last night of tidying a few bits and pieces we lost the will to do in the flat, as tomorrow is my regular Icar game session, tonight is really the last night.

I'd like to dedicate this post to all the fucktards out there. A proper idiot, one with a true lack of class that puts them head and shoulder below the rest of humanity, has a completely misplaced pride in their in-eptitude and stupidity. They go beyond mere ignorance, and off into the realms of vanity in stupidity. The internet was invented for such people.

Last night I played in two of the most embarrassingly bad games of football that I have ever witnessed.
A week ago I was approached by a colleague and was asked if I'd be available to play a six a-side game at Rivermead against a team from marketing, unfortunately for us a lack of game-plan, determination and talent led to an epic drubbing 17-1.

Menu’s for call centres are apparently a modern convenience to help handle our calls better. But better for who? It certainly doesn’t feel like it’s better for me as I find myself randomly stabbing a series of numbers like a lab rat hoping for a biscuit. Today my biscuit’s name is Mandy and although receptive to my problem, I can’t but help to feel I’ve just wasted my time.

Since the Reading Half Marathon I haven't done too much in the way of distance running, to the point where I haven't breached 5 miles all that often.

Last night Byrn and myself were off to a DVD night. As we were driving over, quite out of the blue we saw a naked man running along the side of the road.