Black Dog Blog

Archive for October, 2006

The first album I ever bought was Summer in Paradise (1992) by the Beach Boys. I know some people get embarrassed about this kind of milestone, but I'm pleased to say this taste of mine has aged perfectly, and I still very much enjoy listening to the original. Like now.

Do NOT buy the UK remake.

The second CD, first single, I ever bought was Blue (Da Ba Dee) by Eiffel 65 (Europop). I still like it and may still admit to a little embarrassment.

I'm currently re-ripping a bunch of Darkness, Nightwish etc at ~128kbps VBR because Quadrupod is full. (I may be a silkcotton ass hifi-ear who can't stand live recordings and generally likes to hear tracks as the band intended them to be heard — but I can't tell 128 from 320, or a .wav for that matter.)

Spoilers for How Brassycoat won the fruits of immortality follow, but it's mostly unrelated anger. Read the rest of this entry »

Link that should work for Snog's browser

And if you have trouble seeing what the title refers to, try clicking large size!

Oh dear. According to Tarot, I'm "a silkcotton ass hifi-ear".

IT'S LIKE THEY KNOW ME.

I can't find the vid on their site! Snoooog? Astronut? Helicopter?

Yes, that meme thing, edited down somewhat to lose most of the references I didn't understand. Read the rest of this entry »

I redesigned this page ten days ago with, it has to be said, great enjoyment.

And here it is today. Yay!

This is a good kind of delay: when you have to noodledash back into the house and upstairs because the new jeans you bought too SMALL a week or so ago and haven't yet WORN, are riding DOWN your arse and you need your BELT.

Black jeans = the shiznit.

I'm also, for the first time in, well, ever, wearing a vest. Or more of a sleeveless t-shirt really, but it's fulfilling an undershirt's role, therefore it is a vest. It's official; I am an old man and a pansy. *mutters* I'm not too cold in my short-sleeved hawaiian shirt, though, so I suppose it's working.

Right, bitches, you asked for it…

…no, really, three of you did. So I listened. Therefore and whereupon, I give you the 'hastily tacked-on magical flight chase scene deluxe'!

Just so you know, the thought process went like this (spoilers): Read the rest of this entry »

I shouldn't be, but… BWAHAHAHAHAHA.

(Things you don't want to walk past and overhear the Religion web team discussing, part #8: Effective methods of torture. First Web Assistant to make a Debbie McGee joke loses 100pts of street cred. Oops, that would be me then.)

edit: Bwahahahahahahaaaa!

Whacked-out dreams. Apart from dreaming yet again that I'd screwed up my no-food regime (strange, because I have no such problems with forgetfulness in the waking world), I later thought I was talking to someone who was criticising me for never drinking tea or coffee. I think it was someone I more or less respect, too (though I don't remember who), which is all the weirder.

I woke up at 2am absolutely freezing despite my two layers of clothes plus duvet, grabbed my thick-as-a-Persian-cat dressing gown and just managed to get back to sleep. I've been chilly daily and nightly for the last few weeks and ignored it – it's October, after all – but I fear it's time to face up to the fact that I have completely lost my cold immunity.

Thus, despite a tantrum or two at the world – hell no, bitch! This is me! I don't get cold! – I don't think I'll be able to wander about in short-sleeved cotton shirts this winter. I may even hav eto close my bedroom window. (And I think I may be coming down with something. I blame shedding an eighth of my body weight in as many weeks – my whole system's probably feeling pretty low. Well, suck it up, stupid meat-carcase.)

Feeling inexplicably out of sorts.

Either as a contributing factor or as a result, I'm having trouble choking down the regulation litres of water. Blergh!

Following the advice of the hellhound in my head, I'm going to go and repeat mentally "You will never be a fisherman!"/"Yes I will!"* until I feel better/go nuts.

*this is a line from a television advertisement for something-or-other vaguely Jamaican, from years ago. Slen will know. I am using it as jestermantra because it's funny. edit: Added link!

edit: Scratch the above – Cyclonus Power Metal (webradio station) is back up and they're playing When The Lights Go Down by Kamelot. Mood swing go uppp^ppp
Oh, and the visualising someone being slapped with a fish, for future reference, did work too.

So last night I did write the little thing that had been tickling at the back of my mind, and having nowhere else to put it, put it where it fit best (a storyboard made for stories).

It's not the other short I was writing, nor is it particularly original either (you'll see), but it is a story. Read it here.

And it comes with a free riddle, which is always good.

(There may be spoilers in the comments to this entry, so come back afterwards to join in the concrit.)

Fiction time! Gender in Weft-world-humanoid-thingy-species, who will have a proper name someday, I almost promise.

(Weft says "tell them so I'm not a bishy and to leave me alone. Don't say I told you to tell them. And if Erin seems too interested, burn the page.")

Not that I thought about this at all when sketching out this culture years ago (my creative process consists of "hey wouldn't it be cool if!"), but even in Weftworld terms I'm a neuter. :O

More crazed tundra rodents behind the cut! (30kb image)

Read the rest of this entry »

Rasta documentary up for listening! (It's Realmedia format.)

Maledictia's over the moon. (Well, actually she's complaining about being oppressed, but she enjoys doing that.)

Pet shops in Northern Ireland are selling sedatives to help dogs cope with fireworks.

I want a tortoise like you wouldn't believe.

The sad thing: I bet they wouldn't have got funding if it hadn't been for Harry Potter.

Cowardly f'narkers.

Theirs was a forbidden, geeky and entirely illogical friendship. (wide-ish pic behind cut)

Read the rest of this entry »