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
x

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
x

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
x

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
x

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.
x

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
x

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.
x

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)