(no subject)

Well, I'm back and as usual instead of going to bed, I'm sitting here typing. Clearly I am off my trolley.

As mentioned in Friday's entry, I now have three tellies in the garret. The 14" portable with the currently only serviceable VCR built in, a 21" and now a 28" screen. Not bad for a 48" room.

More to the point the shower is serviceable again, much to my relief.

I have spent much of the weekend airing my army surplus legs in a pair of Fenwick's walking shorts. This is strictly a country pursuit, and I availed myself of said opportunity chez wallabok. It's only fair since he inflicts his legs on the community, too. Legs as pasty-white and freckly as mine, though, are generally best shielded from the public, lest they scare the horses. Still, it was cool (climatically, if not sartorially), and the South Cambridgeshire vortex ensured that there was a fair old breeze circulating which kept one cool. Yes, weekends should be spent in the country, My Dears. City life is passé - actually I have considered this to be true for some time, but inbuilt personal poverty restricts one's movements in this urban society. Oh well, it was fun getting here.

At nearby RAF Duxford, someone was clearly playing with the aerospace museum; during the weekend we caught sight of a Spitfire and Hurricane flying in formation, and a B17. Today a solitary P-51 Mustang made an appearance. There must be a display in the offing.

I was impressed that the post office confounded my expectations and delivered my CD from Play.com on Saturday morning. Unfortunately circumstance mean that I shall still have to wait until tomorrow to give it a listen. There is no track listing or information of any type on the CD package. I guess we're all supposed to be psychic in these matters, nowadays.

Or look it up on the online CD database. Easy enough to do, but seems a bit odd when it could quite easily have been printed on the sleeve. Oh well.

Time now, for kip I fancy. Or downloading porn. One or the other.

Good night world, and may the angels sing thee to thy bed.

(no subject)

Well, I'm back and as usual instead of going to bed, I'm sitting here typing. Clearly I am off my trolley.

As mentioned in Friday's entry, I now have three tellies in the garret. The 14" portable with the currently only serviceable VCR built in, a 21" and now a 28" screen. Not bad for a 48" room.

More to the point the shower is serviceable again, much to my relief.

I have spent much of the weekend airing my army surplus legs in a pair of Fenwick's walking shorts. This is strictly a country pursuit, and I availed myself of said opportunity chez wallabok. It's only fair since he inflicts his legs on the community, too. Legs as pasty-white and freckly as mine, though, are generally best shielded from the public, lest they scare the horses. Still, it was cool (climatically, if not sartorially), and the South Cambridgeshire vortex ensured that there was a fair old breeze circulating which kept one cool. Yes, weekends should be spent in the country, My Dears. City life is passé - actually I have considered this to be true for some time, but inbuilt personal poverty restricts one's movements in this urban society. Oh well, it was fun getting here.

At nearby RAF Duxford, someone was clearly playing with the aerospace museum; during the weekend we caught sight of a Spitfire and Hurricane flying in formation, and a B17. Today a solitary P-51 Mustang made an appearance. There must be a display in the offing.

I was impressed that the post office confounded my expectations and delivered my CD from Play.com on Saturday morning. Unfortunately circumstance mean that I shall still have to wait until tomorrow to give it a listen. There is no track listing or information of any type on the CD package. I guess we're all supposed to be psychic in these matters, nowadays.

Or look it up on the online CD database. Easy enough to do, but seems a bit odd when it could quite easily have been printed on the sleeve. Oh well.

Time now, for kip I fancy. Or downloading porn. One or the other.

Good night world, and may the angels sing thee to thy bed.

(no subject)

>Creak.<

Ooh. That's two days on the trot now that I have slept the sleep of the dead. Having found it well nigh impossible to sleep all last week on account of the humidity and temperature, I pretty much collapsed on Saturday night and, with a short period of wakefulness around 3 am to dig my earphones out of my head, slept through until 10.30 am.

I was still tired though, and last night, despite going to bed late, slept solidly for 5 hours, before waking up briefly to find that I could squeeze out another hour and a half.

But both this and yesterday mornings I woke up to find that my limbs were as stiff as boards, and felt as though a good can of WD-40 would not go amiss. I reckon that this is symptomatic of barely moving an inch for several hours, hence the sleep of the dead.

I think I might go for a wander down Victoria Street at lunchtime and stretch my legs. They are still creaking merrily and it is all rather annoying.


This weather has much to answer for.

(no subject)

>Creak.<

Ooh. That's two days on the trot now that I have slept the sleep of the dead. Having found it well nigh impossible to sleep all last week on account of the humidity and temperature, I pretty much collapsed on Saturday night and, with a short period of wakefulness around 3 am to dig my earphones out of my head, slept through until 10.30 am.

I was still tired though, and last night, despite going to bed late, slept solidly for 5 hours, before waking up briefly to find that I could squeeze out another hour and a half.

But both this and yesterday mornings I woke up to find that my limbs were as stiff as boards, and felt as though a good can of WD-40 would not go amiss. I reckon that this is symptomatic of barely moving an inch for several hours, hence the sleep of the dead.

I think I might go for a wander down Victoria Street at lunchtime and stretch my legs. They are still creaking merrily and it is all rather annoying.


This weather has much to answer for.

(no subject)

I am not sure that this is an appropriately bloke-ish thing to say, but I fear that in may be possible to have too big a telly...

It has taken me hours to man handle stuff around my room to accommodate the new telly, and I've nearly finished. I'm not sure I can get to the window to close it any more...

And I still have to find a home for a bunch of displaced videos. Of course, it being the day I install a new TV in my room it is also the cable TV keeps losing sound - on all channels. The problem is clearly at ntl's end, not mine, but by crackey it took a while to work that out. The fates do like a larff at one's expense, don't they? The little tinkers.

This has proven to me one thing I knew deep down, but frequently refuse to acknowledge. I have too much stuff. Far, far, too much stuff. Heaps of stuff; great galloping wads of it.

And a very big telly.

(no subject)

I am not sure that this is an appropriately bloke-ish thing to say, but I fear that in may be possible to have too big a telly...

It has taken me hours to man handle stuff around my room to accommodate the new telly, and I've nearly finished. I'm not sure I can get to the window to close it any more...

And I still have to find a home for a bunch of displaced videos. Of course, it being the day I install a new TV in my room it is also the cable TV keeps losing sound - on all channels. The problem is clearly at ntl's end, not mine, but by crackey it took a while to work that out. The fates do like a larff at one's expense, don't they? The little tinkers.

This has proven to me one thing I knew deep down, but frequently refuse to acknowledge. I have too much stuff. Far, far, too much stuff. Heaps of stuff; great galloping wads of it.

And a very big telly.