George and Lynne #3

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I'll be wrapping this up soon, promise.

Music!

It's been a great few days for music- A new album coming up from Brand New, a three-disc bastard of an album from Tom Waits and live recordings from Foo Fighters and the mighty Rammstein. Needless to say I have purchased all these at retail price, from a licensed vendor of copyrighted products.

Teaching at Pen-Y-Dre Today...

... and it's as mad as ever. One kid turned up to school on a horse, and I got this gem from a year-ten pupil:

"Sir, I know a girl in year nine with chlamydia! That's fucking mad that is Sir, fourteen and you got chlamydia!"


This is all fodder for the novel which I'll probably never write.

George and Lynn #2

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George and Lynn #1

Click for full-size.

ARMED ROBBERY!

Wow, breaking news- about half an hour ago there was an armed robbery at the Natwest in town, about three minutes walk from where I type this:

Click for bigger version
They had a shooter and everything. I'm getting my arse down there with my camera RIGHT NOW, back later with pics.

We take you live now to BBC News 24 in London:

"...I'm now being told we can go live to the scene, Mark, can you give us some idea of the mood there?"







"Thanks Mark, there's certainly one word that sums up the atmosphere in the air here after this morning's terrible incident, and that word is bored as fuck. As you can see we've got one police officer on the scene, and his duties so far have included chatting with passers-by, yawning, and playing with what we believe to be his own bollocks. We've had word from an insider who reports that although a live firearm was used in the attack, no shots were fired and the perpetrator has already been apprehended. Reports that the robber wore a black-and-white-striped top and black eye-mask have been dismissed as 'lazy stereotyping'. Back to the studio".

Can't Wait!

I haven't been to a gig in absolutely ages- all year in fact. The last decent live act I saw was Sage Francis in Amsterdam over a year ago, so I can't wait for TOOL at the end of next month. A week or two after that I've got Mitchell and Webb to look forward to as well, so a few treats coming up.

Sexy Mustard!

I'm only posting this because I laughed so much I don't want to forget the link, and it's topical, what with the time of year and all. Hope you laugh.

"Pass".

Evil Dead: The Musical.

I've always been a gigantic horror freak. One of the earliest film memories I have is sitting with my nose practically squeezed against the T.V screen, watching a grainy and washed-out pirate VHS copy of The Evil Dead and having my mind blown to pieces by the crazy intensity and viscera. A few years later the sequel did the same, but my slightly-more mature mind was able to appreciate the slapstick and roll with the humour. I wasn't the only one- the two Evil Deads (and to a lesser extent the threequel, Army of Darkness) are hugely-beloved cult classics. When you meet someone new, it's usual to ask about favourite films- take it from me, if someone mentions Evil Dead, they're good people.
The first film is now twenty-five years old. The musical is clearly being produced by people like me who grew up as fans, with fanatical love for the source material. Each review I've read has gushed praise over it like foamy blood from a trapdoor. It feels to me like it could be a new Little Shop of Horrors- I think I've made my point. Just let it suffice to say: if this ever makes it's way to the UK, I will take a chainsaw to anything that gets in the way of my getting a ticket.

Someone I Know's Just Been on the Telly!

Those who know me well will know that about ten years ago I was in a short one-off drugs awareness-type drama on BBC1 Wales called Knucklehead. About halfway through tonight's premiere of Torchwood on BBC3, I realised where I recognised the fella playing Ianto Jones from:

Small world, eh?

Regarding Torchwood, I think it has a lot of potential but a lot of flaws. The most interesting character was Cardiff- it looked absolutely stunning, more so for not having to pretend to be London. Obviously I'll be watching the rest regardless, but I hope they can show a bit of restraint with the script- we already know that Captain Jack's an omnisexual intergalactic fuck-machine, there's no need to lay on the "ooh missus" asides every other line. I'd also like more gore, but then I'd like more gore in everything.

G'night!

I've Just Been on the Telly!

Remeber that Mastermind Cymru taping I went to over the summer? No? Well, whatever. The first episode is on now, and you can totally see me in the audience, which means you'll be able to next week as well.

Awesome.

My Bad New Hobby:

INTERNET LIES. I'm on Soulseek earlier, right, and someone starts downloading the new My Chemical Romance album from me, and, being bored, I decided to start a string of lies to see what they'd believe. Even I was shocked. Click to see the deceit.

Everything's cool with me- had to go for another Criminal Records Board check earlier in the week, I suppose they want to be certain I haven't raped anyone in the six months since my last one. Still, when that comes back according to my contact I can start work straight away. I've been doing some more temping in Laura's office, I'm considering a week or two at the call centre, I'm off to Devon tomorrow to attend the wedding of an old colleague- hope everyone's well!

One Review.

One measly bloody review- and what a wonderful piece of journalism it is. Click it if you actually want to read it. Audrey Jones of the Gwent Gazette- you're a boring old cunt.


EDIT: That's a bit harsh, I know, but she's hardly Hunter S. Thompson, is she?

Heads Up!

Torchwood teasers are popping up regularly on BBC1 now- nothing much to report, just one-second flashes of the logo with a crackly electricity-style sound effect. I'd advise staying tuned after Eastenders tomorrow night (03/10/06).


Or clicking below : )



Not long now, then.

I Met Girls Aloud Today!

Well, when I say "met", I mean "insulted over a live web chat".
Posing as "Sharon from Cardiff".

... and at that point I was kicked off : (

Myspace.com

Honestly, I'm not deluded enough to think that railing against myspace.com is in any way edgy or hip- for the record, I think the myspace-type social networking trend is, in essence a good thing, but the people... must the people wreck everything*?

Pout. Head cocked askance. Practiced, identikit deep-and-meaningful look into the webcam. Username that's so kooky, anyone reading it will instantly go clinically batshit-insane. A profile of interests so studied and considered that the desperation leaps off the screen and down your throat. It's narcissism on a fanatical scale- a yearning to appear individual and fascinating, on an identical form being filled in by millions and millions of other identically unique and rare individual wankers. Find me a myspace profile which doesn't feature these traits, and I will personally leave the author a heartfelt message of thanks and congratulation*. Conversely, if you think I'm wrong, let me know why.

"But Mark, how is your blog so different to all that, you hypocritical prick?"

I'm not clamouring for a longer list of friends, I'm not trying to squeeze myself in to any scene in particular, there's no attempt to look sexier, cooler, deeper or more obscure than thou. This is myspace for me as opposed to a window I can stand in to try and woo passers by with my haircut and excellent taste.

Fuck it, I've dried up.

Myspace.com, yesterday.


*If you're a band or a solo artiste trying to get free publicity for your work then I understand, and you can consider yourself off the shit-list. Also if you work in the sex industry, go in peace.

The Final Curtain...

... went down last night, and I found myself really pleased with how the whole thing went. It was a hard week- I've got myself a temping job in an office (more on the work sitch in a bit) so I've been nine-to-fiving it then hauling ass to the theatre, plastering on minging greasepaint, taping mic leads all over my hairy self and baking under hot lights for three hours, so by the end of each night I've been wrecked- last night though was really euphoric. An enthusiastic audience and a truly pumped cast made it a really special night. Massive thanks to everyone who came to see it over the week- Laura and family, my brother and sister-in-law, Sianni and Ross (a pleasure, Sir), Tre, Sam and everyone else I haven't mentioned. I hope it went down well.
On Wednesday night a face from my past was in the crowd- an old friend from a show ten years ago who's now a Drama teacher at the school where I failed an English interview a few months back. She was very complimentary about my performance and expressed relief that I didn't get the English job- according to her there'll be an opening in her Drama department soon, and she recommended I apply. Of course I'll do just that, but I won't get excited at this point as I've been disappointed by word-of-mouth before.
Now I have to ponder whether or not i want to get involved in the next show. I can say after the event that it's been lovely, but the long rehearsal process and the fatigue of the performance week were a major pain in the anal canal. I'll have a think about it this week- the decision has a lot to do with what the next show is going to be. I was pleased to be involved in Titanic as it wasn't a show I'd seen before- I'll be less eager to get involved if the company intend trotting out some tired ten-a-penny piece of shite next.

Anyway, it was lovely. Some fantastic backstage memories: whiskey, applause, half-time cigarettes, light shining through dust, panic, frozen seconds, campness, new friends, obscene photographs, all good. Everyone involved had to write their own entry for the programme, so I thought I'd post mine, if you're interested. Give it a click for the legible version.


Be Thee Well.
x

Rosenrot, O Rosenrot.

Unemployment is fucking painful. Driving lessons and bills everywhere. It'll be fine, I'm sure- I'm applying for jobs all over the place. If all else fails there's always the call-centre for a while.

SECURITY ISSUE AT SKYWALKER RANCH

Full story here

There's One Word on Everyone's Lips Today.

And it's "Crikey"!

Should've kept it on dry land, Steve.

Let's Laugh at the Stupidity of Others!

I found this discarded shopping list in the supermarket earlier. Go on, click on it, it's brilliant.

1.) MOOSE? You can't buy a Moose in Tesco. In fact, I don't think you can find a Moose in any supermarket, although I haven't tried Aldi in a while.
2.) What the frig is "backlunch"?
3.) Baby food? Oh Christ, it's got a child.
4.) Camel? Cemal? Carel? Fuck knows.

I also particularly enjoy the way the author reminds him/herself of the amount of lightbulbs he/she needs- "10 of them". Lovely.

Yes, I know it's very poor to laugh at the idiots, but Laura and I took the "Test the Nation" I.Q test tonight, and we both did okay although she beat my 115 with her very clever 127 mutter mumble curse.

I Never Learn.

I'd like someone to make a Firefox extension that detects whether or not the user has drunk two bottles of wine, then stops them from posting on their blog if it reads "positive".

ONE MEAL PER DAY

COME ON YOU CUNTS
LET'S HAVE SOME APHEX ACID

Press Coverage

The above article is taken from the Gwent Gazette dated 24/08/06. Click for a bigger, readable version, and hey- how's that for a tasteful headline?

Three Weeks Tonight...

... is Brown Trousers night. Seriously, I'm shitting it. The songs are all out of my range and I haven't learned my lines- nothing new there then, eh? Apparently tickets are going really well and we should have a sell-out, which is good news. After all, the only thing worse than turning in a second-rate performance is turning in a second-rate performance to a half-empty theatre, so at least I'll be fucking it up in front of a healthy crowd. Book now for the sham-dram experience of a lifetime!

Got Engaged.

*Skrit Skrit*

I'm just sort of shaking my head and wondering about this fella, not sure what to make of him. A survivor of some sort of Ichthyosis? Fuck knows. This blog is becoming less about my life and more about me scratching my head wondering what's afflicting others. I'd say "burn victim", but the eyes... Anyway, my life. It was the beautiful Laura's birthday this past weekend, and we celebrated with a day out at one of Britain's most awesome theme-park-cum-animal-sanctuaries, Chessington World of Adventures. A few of the rides were fucked so the theme-park aspect was shit, but we did see some really cool animals, the best of which was the Capybara, world's largest rodent- and look at him, he's fucking massive. That's the sort of rodent you don't want to see sniffing around your bins, he'd chew your fucking arm off. Unless of course you lived in a well-known Capybara area, in which case you wouldn't even be checking your bins without some sort of recoil-free firearm. Can you tell my heart's not in this post somehow? I sure can. Driving lesson yesterday, I'm getting better. Missed a few Titanic rehearsals what with Laura's birthday and whatever, my dicky back's been playing up a bit. Moan, moan, moan, fuck, I bore myself sometimes. I was planning something special for Laura's birthday, but it didn't quite happen- it will, and I'll keep you posted.

(Harri are you okay, Harri are you okay, are you okay Harri?)

Wii vs PS3 Spoof

This exactly sums up why I'm really looking forward to owning the new Nintendo console. Cheap and fun.

I Hate Being Away!

Because I've only just noticed this:



I don't like the plain blue suit one little bit. Of course, a lot of that has to do with the fact that I know I could never get away with it like The Doctor will, effortlessly.

Pic from the BBC site, of course.

Summer?

I just don't know how to start this, and I sure as fuck won't be bothered spellchecking when it's over, so sorry in advance. To begin with, let me tell you about last Thursday. I was supposed to be flying myself out to Amsterdam as I've done each year since the millennium, to shake off the horrors of the year and "get in touch" with myself, but, if you're a UK denizen then you'll know that last week some fucking idiot wanna-be amateur bombsmiths with a ridiculous fucking axe to grind had some other ideas. These "bombers" may or may not have even existed- I don't trust the news, I don't trust what I'm told on screen or in print, I never have, all I know is that some argument I have FUCK ALL to do with has gypped me out of a solid four days of blissful intoxicated partying... fuck, let me set the scene for you. I awoke at 0600 last Thursday and the first thing I see is these cunts on the left, telling me there's been some sort of "mild terror alert", dressing it up in their stupid fucking GMTV safe morning-friendly smile-talk while I'm thinking "ah Christ, delays then", so I set out, I get to the airport with with time to spare (a feat in itself, of which I was proud) to find fucking bedlam. Bedlam and Babylon. People lining up for hour after hour, British humanity in all it's glory, waiting it's turn, dreading the bad news. It was a massive disorganised funeral. Everyone knew they wern't getting where they going, but everyone was too damn British to make a fuss. A classic example of queuing at it's best. Right, bollocks, I'm not going to whinge about my missed holiday anymore because I'm bored of it, and at least I had one or two good nights fuelled out of sheer frustration and anger (hey, maybe it's not your thing, but if you're in Bristol and you're off your mash on ecstasy pipes and you've got nothing better to do, maybe you should enjoy the fifteen-floor superclub that is Oceana. My thanks go to Owen and Captain Crunch, whether they read this or not, for the textual and moral support).

Anyway.
No more moaning.

On to the positive. I've had a few driving lessons, which have been fun. I'm shit thus far, my clutch control is fucking awful and it's entirely my own fault, but at least I'm making up at last for leaving it this late. A big welcome to any newcomers who've posted comments recently, it doesn't go unnoticed. I appreciate any and all feedback, be it red, white, blue or black ; )

Marko
x

FISH WITH HUMAN TEETH

Full, terrifying story here.

School Stuff

Interesting article about Pen Y Dre here.

"Hey, Nice Shoes!"

I had to pop to the supermarket earlier, and outside were two young lads playing about. As I walked past, one of them called to me "Hey, nice shoes"!
That put a big smile on my face, so a big thanks to those two kids and also to Osiris.

How Much Lewis Can The Internets Handle?

Looks like there's another Lewis with a blog- it's still in it's fledgling stages, but What Up Jarge is up and running. This is a picture of the protagonist enjoying five consecutive pasties.

Dum, Dum-Dum Derrrrrrrrr..... NER-NER!

That's how the theme tune from "Mastermind" goes. And hey, I should fucking know, because I heard it plenty of times last Saturday. What it is, right, is that I went along to the BBC Cymru studios in Cardiff to see a taping of the all-new Mastermind Cymru- just like the English version except it's in Welsh. Which I don't speak. I went, you see, to cheer on my good friend Huw, who was a contestant- his specialism was the television work of one Alan Partridge, and although he didn't win, he only lost on passes to a freak whose specialism was the Kray twins. I mean, would I be allowed to get on Mastermind with Hindley and Brady as my specialist subject? Or Jeffrey Dahmer, the Milwaukee Cannibal? Probably not. So, I scream "bollocks" and retain Huw as the victor in my eyes. After the taping (which did go on for ages thanks to host Betsan Powys frigging it up all the time, fucking amateur) we headed back to see good ol' Gavo (we being Harri, Sian and I), had a bit of a session and heard all about his trip to Rome. Nice.

In other news, I absolutely fucking hate the following: school, summer, the Earth's sun, the Tesco corporation, that song about the girl who wishes she was a punk rocker with flowers in her hair, having to wait a week for the conclusion to last week's Doctor Who, maggots, stinging nettles, waiting for the summer holidays, and writing school reports.

That is all.

Sigh.

Nothing eloquent sorry folks, just reporting that I didn't get the job. Again. Starting to feel like a right cunt now.

A Right Cunt, Yesterday

Interview Time Again.

Tuesday, in a school quite close by. I'll say no more.

Hang on, I haven't told you about "Titanic" yet, have I? Here goes then- I've gone and gotten myself roped into taking a role in a local production of "Titanic- The Musical". First thing to point out is that it has nothing whatsoever to do with Titanic, the 1997 James Cameron film.

I thought my shady musical theatre days were behind me, but I was asked by a teacher in my current school to fill in for someone who'd fallen ill, so I thought I'd do it to raise my profile a bit and to get some favours owed- it can't hurt, I suppose. Well, bollocks actually, it can- the part is quite big and is in the tenor range, which is bloody high for my rumbling, manly voice. Plus it's in the first weeks of September, so I'll have a lot of rehearsing to do over my summer bloody holidays. On the plus side, it's for a company I've performed with before about ten years ago, and everyone's really pleased to see me and is giving it the "ooh haven't you grown" routine, which is putting a smile on my face in spite of myself. Come and see it if you want, it'll be comedy if nothing else.

I'll update following my interview- if you see another short chapter of disjointed fiction you'll know it didn't go well : )

x

("Hiya" to Karen and Sian!)

Thought You Might Like This Picture.

I love the way it takes the familiar image of Mario's eternal quest and gives it just the tiniest tweak of perspective- a tweak that changes the image into something bleak and, I reckon, quite heartbreaking.

Poor bastard, he does such a fantastic job.
(Click for bigger version)

Okay, Here We Go-

See, it starts off nice and respectable. New suit, tie, lovely day, all smiles. Then the pints start flowing, the tie comes off and the fun starts. I'm not normally a nationalist, but if you put a few pints in me and surround me with family, an English flag is like a red rag to a bull, so we'll get rid of that, thank you very much. Things get more and more vague after that. I think there was some of the usual horseplay between Big Lew and Me, but all you really need to know is that this is the end result:

A lovely day was had by all.

My Dad's Wedding

Look, I weent to my Dad's weddngtoday, and I;'ve got lods of pictures,and I'd like to pit them up but I'm too fuckojng wrecked. Tomooroworw I'll put them u[pm aloing with some video, but right now I can';;t be arsed. Sufficew to say I had a reallly nice adfy, Seeyyou tommoreww,

x

Oh Come On Satan You Tedious Cunt.

Alright, everyone knows that you missed a trick with the Millenium. That would have been an ideal time to rise from your firey pit and overthrow a confused and panicky humanity, but nothing happened. No Millenium Bug, no plague of boils, in fact there was no grand gesture on your part at all.
"Fine", I thought at the time, "he certainly won't miss the really big date coming up in six years or so".
I should've known better. It's now nearly half four on the sixth of the sixth, oh-bloody-six, and it's starting to look like you've stood me up again, you complete prick! I mean, what are you thinking? Have you totally lost your flair for the Grand Guignol? Everyone knows you're slowly winning the battle anyway, what with the decline of the moral standard, the corruption of youth, the war, the murder, the blah blah blah, but come on, couldn't you just this once have said "oh, fuck the long game" and given us a bit of spectacle? I mean, look!

It's like your very own version of the Bat-signal, shining into the midnight sky that is man's damnation, and you can't even be arsed to show your scaly face. Well, I'm almost out of patience. If you don't show up on the ninth of the ninth two thousand and nine, then let me tell you, it's over.

It Won't Always Be This Amateurish. Promise.

Right- Does the sound work for you?
Is the lyp-synch lined up okay?
Is it a waste of time?

Death Imitating Art?

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

I

Ryan opened the window, squinted, blinked.
Rain.
After a night like that any weather would have seemed magnificent, but rain... well. Rain was perfect.
Without giving his mind a chance to wander, Ryan turned himself back into the room and in one liquid movement dressed in the blink of an eye.
Purpose, action, motion.
A cigarette and no toast for breakfast and he was outside, keys, change and all. Diving into the street, striving toward purpose, replacing reason with feedback and concentrating on the imperative- If you stop, you fail.
Wet through, steam coming out his nose like Taurus.
Old, wet faces cursed his passing with mutters and oaths, his image in the raindrops the only proof he ever existed. Move, don't think. If you stop, you fail.

Destination. Resolution. Happenstance and kismet.

All things considered? Good day for a funeral.

I can sum it all up in just one word.

"Bringbackborstal".

Time.

Maybe it's that the new series of Doctor Who is in full swing, but I find it very cool that later on tonight, in the early hours of Thursday morning, the time will read:

01:02:03, 04/05/06.

It can't be just me, surely that's really very cool indeed?

Anyway, in other news, I have an interview on Monday. I won't post any more details until it's over so as not to invite the jinx-monkey in. Had a lovely bank holiday weekend with Harri and the Aber crew, but like a cock I forgot my camera, so no pics sorry. Another time.

Hope everyone's well.

Lewis.

I wouldn't normally do this.

The new TOOL single has been leaked, so here's a link if you give a stuff. If you're reading this then you probably already know how full of shit I am about bands that I love, but trust me, it's really fucking good.
If the TOOL news doesn't interest you, have a picture of Laura's dog instead:

Either way, don't say I never give you anything.
Oh, and nearly forgot- It seems we have a reader in China!

Who's this grumpy girl, then?

Nostalgia?

An on-the-spot, heat-of-the-moment post for you here, folks. To 'fess up, all day today I've been feeling nostalgic as hell. I've been going through pictures on my hard drive, sorting stuff into folders and just sort of shooting the shit with myself, remembering old times and sighing a little bit over a bottle of wine. I've also been looking for reviews of Therapy?'s new album, "One Cure Fits All", and I realised that I didn't have the live CD from Scopophobia on my hard drive, so I went and dug it out. As I opened the case, what fell out?














(Click for bigger version)

A picture that perfectly sums up everything I've been feeling mardy about today. I must have stuck it in there for safekeeping during the move from Swn-Y-Don two years ago.

I think a frame is in order.

Hiya to Rob J, Kara and De Chikken.

Marko
x

I make no apologies.

We are who we are. Some people get excited over football. Some people take interest in politics, still more watch the world of celebrity and gaze into the fishbowl of fame to pass the time away. Me? I like accidents of nature. So hush now, steel thyselves, draw back the curtain and feast your eyes.
A few days ago (March 29th) in Nepal, someone gave birth.... to this:

Fuck me. According to www.kantipuronline.com, "the bizarre baby... died after half an hour of its birth", which is understandable. What eludes me, though, is why Dad is parading the poor fucker through the streets in a potty:

You've gotta love it. My first thought was "Fuck me, it's Frank Sidebottom".
Good, eh?
In other news, school is very testing (I caught the little fuckers throwing frogs at each other earlier. You read that right), but a lovely fortnight off is fast approaching. Hope everyone's well.
Have fun, freak fans!
Lewis
x

Time for an old classic, I think:

Here we go, folks: Ulli's Roy Orbison In Clingfilm Website. A proper oldie-but-goodie.

They did it.

I can't believe they fucking did it. Goodbye the man. Goodbye the legend. Goodbye Tony Almeida.
I promise this is the last 24-related post I'll write, as I appreciate it might be tedious for those of you who don't watch the show. I never thought they'd do it, but they actually went and did it.


Almeida24@hotmail.com

Perspective.

At the start of this term, I got a long-term placement teaching pupils who've been permanently excluded from mainstream school. I'm teaching (or attempting to teach) kids with severe behaviour and learning difficulties, and all term I've been getting home and thinking "fuck, those kids are a total and complete waste of skin, what cunts". Then today I found out that one of my pupils' fathers is in prison for murdering someone with a shotgun a few years ago. Another girl (fifteen) has been sleeping around on her estate for money. Whatever grief I get off these pupils (and I do, believe me- it's been nothing but "queer, gay, dickhead, queer" all term) I have to realise, sat here in my comfy chair in front of my broadband, in my house with my Xbox and my PSP and my girlfriend and my cafetiere and my two jobs and my paycheques, that circumstance is all that seperates the best of us from the worst. I could be them, and they could be me. It's nothing but blind luck that gives us our start in life. We have no choice in what soil we're sown. I must keep my sense of humour, and look to happenstance for a reason why some things are they way they are.

RIP Edgar Stiles

He loved his Mom.

Don't Be Like Mark.

Mark is a professional fucking dickhead.

Craniopagus Parasiticus.

Say the words to yourself once or twice. Ten syllables. Cranio-pagus Para-siticus. The biological equivalent of finding an extra large and deformed M&M in your packet. Twins, but wrong. A human life, twisted by a matter of womb-inches, to the status of a tumour with a face. Insane ethical questions. The stubby bit has reflexes and a seperate personality- introduce a bottle to its mouth, and it sucks. It remains awake while the host sleeps. Without its own heart or respiratory system it has no hope of independant survival- it's just a head, after all. But is it human? Is it a person? The entity as a whole- two people, or one with a noteworthy addition, like a third nipple or extraneous thumb? Medical intervention is mandatory, as one heart can't support that much matter, but should the approach focus on excision of the alien mass, or prolonging the survival of the entity as a whole? Given time and care, could the extra head be capable of learning? Is it sentient? And if so, would a surgical procedure to remove it qualify as excision or infanticide?
Craniopagus Parasiticus. Two heads aren't always better than one.

You want WHAT?!?!

You want to know what I'm listening to, as I'm listening to it? You want to be able to see what sort of music I listen to, and when? You want charts of my most popular artists, and a breakdown of when I listen to them most? Better go here then, and make sure to leave a message in my shoutbox telling me you came from my blog. I'd recommend Audioscrobbler to anyone, it gets more interesting the more you play with it. The only downside happens when your girlfriend plays Kelly Clarkson on your PC and puts a blemish on your oh-so-cool and eclectic listings. Hey-ho.

My Name is Janet Morgan.

I am filthy. Something happened to me before I became this way, something that my mind has chosen to not let me remember. I can only guess what it might have been- a brother carved up by the mob? A mother raped by a gang of mental patients before my infant eyes? A beloved pet, kidnapped and mailed to me piece by piece? Who knows? Not I. One thing however, is sure. I am bar none the most hate-filled, loathsome, dry and unloving motherwhore on the face of this fuckbecursed rock, and wherever I see the promise of good or the potential to prosper then I pour my bile over the seed as quick as I can to suffocate and immolate any hope of a brighter future. Underneath these drab garments of scratchy hessian my skin is as parchment- a thin, transparent firmament that barely holds my herniated and prolapsed organs in place. So lucent is this film that each heartbeat would be visible were I naked- each spasm of life can be seen pushing its way through my veins, the black ichor that I call blood can be seen forging its way through the courses of my foul being, working its way ever onward toward the black spasming mass of tumour that I call a heart. My name is Janet Morgan. Run me down with your car. Find my home, and mail me posthaste gifts of burning turd. My name. Is Janet. Morgan.

What do you think?

War casualty? Botched suicide? Act of a vengeful God?
Or "other"?
This site's nearly a year old, so do please join me in a big fucking yippee.
Another year passed, and we're still waiting for The Rapture.

IMPORTANT NEWS

Here.

Sweet, sweet snow.

Today so far:

06:30- Yawn, swear, shower.
06:50- Coffee, toast, cigarette.
07:00- Shirt, tie, shiver.
07:15- Phonecall to say school’s closed. Snow Day.
07:20- Bed.

The day's my oyster!

I think being greeted by shock snow of a morning is one of the lovliest things possible (Check here for evidence).

In other news, things are okay. Been teaching Geography, History, a bit of IT, been working at BT in the evenings... I regret now ever moaning about not being busy, the days are reaaaally long at the moment and I'm dead on my feet half the time, but this is what needs to be done.

Will post over the weekend.

Marko
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PS- George Best, right? Now, I'm no football fan, but the news really does need to sort itself out. As I write, the telly's on in the background saying that Best's in his final hours. They were saying that last night. They also said it a fortnight ago. I remember the same sort of thing going on with Yasser Arafat and Pope John Paul II. Is it too much to ask to wait until someone's actually dead before reporting their demise? I know I'd be livid if people went around talking about my last minutes before I'd actually croaked, for all anyone knows the fucker could be back down the pub by lunchtime- after all, stranger things have happened.

RIP Eddie Guerrero

1967-2005

A Quickie.

Went to see Hamlet at the New Theatre last weekend. Verdict: bizarre casting, an over-long second half but still Hamlet so still enjoyable. BT has been an ordeal, re-training has been difficult to stomach, but the supply work is still coming in- I'm working in Merthyr tomorrow and Thursday. I've had some really encouraging news from the school where I did my first placement, in that the Drama teacher there is leaving and wants me to have dibs on her job for awhile. I await further news from her with baited breath. I'm shocked to say I've been sticking to the gym programme with Anthony. The day after our first session I couldn't believe the pain I was in, I literally couldn't lift my arms without agony, but that was a few weeks ago and it's gotten a lot easier. I'm even starting to see some results. As I said earlier, I'm teaching tomorrow so I'm losing the beard, but I want this photo to serve as a tribute to the beardiest I've ever been- it itched, but I loved it and I look forward to breaking the record next chance I get:

"Hawkmen! DIIIIVE!"

December's nearly here. My favourite month. I hope everyone's well.
Marko
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Reasons I love being a nerd #4035

This is fantastic. Yesterday I went along to a booksigning by Russell T Davies in Waterstones on the Hayes in Cardiff. He was signing copies of Doctor Who- The Shooting Scripts, so I went along and got in line. As you could expect there were a few muppets who'd come along in costume, but for the most part it was a far less tragic affair than I'd expected. I got talking to some other fans in the queue, picked up some interesting info about filming locations and such, and enjoyed the atmosphere a lot. RTD was an absolute gent- he was happy to pose for pics (clicky) and I was over the moon when he laughed at the dedication I requested (clickety). There was a real, live Dalek in the foyer (clickaroonie) which was exterminating a lot of people, but luckily I got away before it could disintegrate me.
In other news- it's a bit of a shitter, but as of tomorrow I start part-time work at the BT call centre in Cardiff. I'll be doing evenings, which will keep me free to do supply teaching as and when it comes in. The pay from teaching has been fine so far, it's just not been anywhere near frequent enough to give me the regular income I'm depending on to keep paying rent while Laura studies, so although lame it's just a means to an end, and better the devil you know etc etc. Also tomorrow night I start going to the gym with my brother Anthony who you met a few updates ago. He wants to lose some bulk and I'd like to get a bit of definition (ooh, get me) so it's a good idea for both of us. No doubt it'll be a different story tomorrow night when I'm aching and being a big pussy, but for now at least it sounds good.
Finally, the first in a semi-regular feature here on my blog- Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you- BEARDWATCH!

30/10/05- Quite Beardy.
All the best everyone- more soon.
Marko
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Nice weekend, that.

Spent it in Aber and got up to lots. Went for a nice meal and to the pub, played Pictionary, saw Rob and Kara, suffered cat-induced asphyxia and got myself into a bit of a state. Some pics- Deano protests against "camp" allegations. James seems disgusted at my Pictionary skills. Old Gregg is The Adjudicator. Harri with a glint in her eye and a cloud in her mouth. If any of you should come across a copy of Bizarre magazine on your travels, there's a reader of this blog somewhere in the first half of the magazine. Prizes awarded to whoever names him/her. Finally, everyone do me a favour- touch the screen below and whisper the mantra "good luck Rob J" three times:

Thanks very much. See you soon.
Marko
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Look!

A signed photo of Adam West!
Cheers Tre.
Off to Aber for the first time in a few months on Friday, which'll be lovely.
Easy
Lewis

Drinking Strongbow with Mother Nature

Hi all. I'm writing this through a bit of a hangover- I spent a few hours last night at Bryn Bach park (Tredegar's only area of natural beauty), hanging around with my brother while he was night-fishing. Of course, "night-fishing" is a euphemism for "drinking cider", and after seven cans of The Bow I was hammered (and nearly took a dip in the lake, apparently). Still, as this blurry picture shows, it was a lovely picturesque night, and it felt good having a night of fresh air without the TV or PC in front of me. I recommend it heartily. More later in the week.
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Adventures in Babysitting

Fantastic! Work seems to be coming my way, finally. Today I did some supply work in a nearby school which I shan't name, as it's at ground zero in the current South Wales e-coli shitstorm. It feels really, really good to get back into it- the longer I went without work, the more my self-confidence started slipping away and the less likely it was starting to look that I'd want to do it when the opportunity finally arose, but not to worry. It felt lovely being back in front of a class, and I've got more work tomorrow at the same school. After a conversation with my agency yesterday I've found that I was missing a certain form that I needed to fill out to register with the relevant body for Welsh teachers, that's now done and things are looking altogether more positive. It was fun teaching a few different subjects today- starting the day in a technology workshop (bandsaws, lathes and all) then relocating to an IT room then a physics lab was hilarious, especially during the times I'd quietly remind myself that I know fuck all about any of those subjects. Each teacher left lesson plans though, luckily, and the main challenge of the job was maintaining order in a roomful of children who've never clapped eyes on me before, let alone had a few beers and a reefer with me to see how decent I am. The first lesson this morning was a bit rough, a year-ten group on something called the "new start" programme (read: thick-as-fuck reprobates) who pretty much ripped me a new arse. The rest of the day was busy but pleasant enough, and most of the pupils got most of the work done, which is good enough for me (well, I got invited back so I can't have fucked up too badly, at least not yet). Funniest moment of the day? Pupil- "Had you' lip done 'ave you, Sir"? Me- "A while ago, yes". Pupil- "OHMYGOD Sir, you wasn't gothic, was you"? Kids, eh?! More soon.
Marko
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Hi, I'm Barry Scott....

And I'm here to tell you about Mark's Blog!
Hi all! It's been a long, eventful, stressful and (ultimately) cool few months since I last had the means to post. Let's sum-up what's been going on....
Well, first, there was the traumatic business of leaving Aberystwyth. After spending nearly a decade in the place I was really torn up having to finally kiss it goodbye. I knew it was necessary and unavoidable, but damn it really stung to look at my empty flat (formerly Harri's) with my life in boxes and bags. What made it even more difficult was the fact that I was moving back to Gwent, to the county I grew up in and, as a hot-headed youth, swore I'd never return to. Things felt weird to start with- the place hasn't changed a bit, I see old schoolfriends around the streets and it feels a little bit like some fucked-up timewarp where I've aged but no-one else has. I'm over the (lack of) culture shock now and I've settled back in, but it was very odd and quite upsetting for a while there. Laura's started her course, and is knee-deep in legalese every night, reading impenetrable law texts and memorising dense regulations and rules in preparation for her future in contract law- massive respect to her for driving back and forth Cardiff every day (just under an hour from here) and still having the stamina to read for hours each night.
Everything else has fallen into place piece by piece. I'm registered with two supply-teaching agencies, and start each morning sitting by the telephone waiting for work to come in. There's been nothing at all thus far, but as both the agencies and my brother have told me the first weeks of term are slow for supply teachers due to everyone being fresh after the holidays. My contacts at the agency have assured me that as term progresses work starts to come in regularly, and I've been told to prepare to be inundated as the weeks progress. Work can't come quick enough- I'm gagging to get back into a classroom, and the last thing I want is to have to get a non-educational job after the year I put into the PGCE. Having the sweet, sweet internet back is a boost- a big thanks to Wanadoo for pulling their e-thumbs out of their e-arseholes and switching this address on after a month of lies and diversionary tactics.
Some pics of the house- this was the scary emptiness that greeted us when we moved in, but when we got all our stuff in and built a bunch of furniture things started taking shape. I'll get some more pics of the finished place for a future update, but for now I'll nick off by saying it's nice to get back online and if you're reading still, you have my thanks.
Marko
PS: Odd little fact here- take a look at Barry Scott at the top of this post. Did you know that he doesn't exist? For reasons known only to the Cilit Bang corporation, "Barry Scott" is actually an actor called Neil Burgess, playing someone called Barry Scott. I mean, what the fuck? Why Barry Scott? Is the name supposed to mean something? It confuses the shit out of me why they'd invent a persona like that, then have him introduce himself by name as if we're supposed to know who he is.... I don't understand, and I'm certainly not buying Cilit Bang on the say-so of some weird-ass non-human Troy-McClure-style advertising crypto-personality. Anyway, laters.
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No way!

Leisuretown is back, from out of nowhere, after years in the ether. If you give a fuck about anything, go and read it all right now. Laura and I have found a house, and I've found work. We move to Ebbw Vale on the 20th of this month, and I start supply teaching in Merthyr a few weeks after. I'm currently at my brother's home in Tredegar, house-sitting for him while he's away on holiday, looking after his dogs and abusing his broadband and home-brew. My own PC imploded a fortnight ago (with a years worth of photos and music, motherfucker), hence the total lack of updates. The fact that I haven't updated, along with the reappearance of the aforementioned Leisuretown means that I can no longer justly claim this site to be the best on the internet. That's cool, though, the internet's a big place and there's no shame in second best. Back soon.

(P.S: Leisuretown)