(This journal entry isn't mirrored, because.... well it's a bit shit really)

Well. I'm back from the most amazing holiday with *mascaraxglass again. I got back earlier this week, but I've been crazy busy with stuff at work. I got a promotion just before I went away, so the holiday was perfectly timed to recharge and prepare for the craziness to which I've returned. It wasn't until I was in the quick check-out aisle in Marks & Spencer's on Tuesday lunchtime with a cheese sandwich in my hand that reality slapped me round the face.

The trip itself was just amazing. I'd been to San Diego once before, but to really appreciate what California has to offer, you have to do a road trip.

We set off from San Diego where *mascaraxglass graduated college with flying colours. We spent some time with her family and college friends before setting off up the coast on the 101. We stopped off in L.A. where we stayed in Hollywood (mental), met Fella and some familiar faces, went to a concert, spoke to weirdos and shopped. Then we headed to SF taking such towns as Santa Barbara (truly lovely), Monterey (sea lions are deranged), Santa Cruz (great place, went to a Rilo Kiley gig) before reaching our destination in the Bay.

Highway 1 is an awesome way to get there (especially in a 4 litre Mustang ) - a winding coastal road flanked by the open Pacific on one side and towering, dramatic mountains on the other. It was difficult to read the signs that read CAUTION 35MPH as Jess pushed 50 and they zoomed past in a blur Thankfully I lived to see my 30th birthday which occurred on our trip up the coast too.

Once we arrived in SF we saw the sights, I did an afternoon's work at the US office, we shopped, met Jess' hero, met `switchbladeserenade, went to a Giants baseball game - and basically had an amazing time. Win.

I'm forgetting a load of stuff and they say a picture paints a thousand words, so rather than continuing to bore you all with a 33,000 word account of the trip, here are some of our snaps!








<sub>This week I recommend:
1. Foam fingers
2. Garlic fries
3. Driving
4. My new mug

This week I do not recommend:
1. Boris Johnson (I apologise on behalf of London)</sub>

(This journal entry isn't mirrored, because.... well it's a bit shit really)

Regular readers of my journal will know that I live with two old mates in a messy flat in a leafy suburb of South London. The rent is reasonable and despite the constant mess it's great to live with two good friends who, for the purposes of this journal, I'll refer to as 'Roomy A' and 'Roomy B'.

Some of you may remember my story of Roomy B's shocking and underhand use of my shower gel and toothpaste and the subsequent Post-It note I left in my tub of Clover margarine (that resulted in some of you labeling me as ' passive aggressive', remind me to leave you a note to tell you to stfu ). What I haven't told you is that Roomy A and Roomy B are big fans of smoking. And I don't mean cigarettes. I mean the green, the ganja, the joint, weed, draw, spliff, zoot, marrabis, pot, wacky backy, the hairy skunk balls.

This has been their main hobby for... I'd say the last ten to fifteen years. This helps explain their general listlessness and liberal attitude to cleaning, and my resulting passive aggressive behaviour. Anyway, this particular account focuses on one reason why I think they should take up... I don't know.... a hobby like knitting instead.

Roomy B got back in from work at about 11pm as he does. I said hello and we had a chat about some stuff (some of which you'll read about in my next journal entry). Then his phone rang, it was Roomy A. Roomy A was at work (they do night shifts which suits their lifestyle: Sunlight? Bad. People? Bad.). A conversation ensued and I heard Roomy B speaking to Roomy A, saying something like this:

'Is it the mains gas?.... Do you need me to do something?....... Are you OK?....... Is someone coming?.....'

Roomy A never calls Roomy B. They generally try and avoid any form of communication unless it's completely necessary. So what could it be about? It must have been something important to make Roomy A pick up his phone and call in the first place.

Well, it turns out that it was something so urgent that Roomy A had..... forgotten what it was. How many times have you gone to the effort to make a call, when you never normally make a call, only to forget why you made the call? Somewhere between Roomy A's thought process 'I better make a call about that' and the action of searching the contact list on his phone and pressing the green button, Roomy A's brain had forgotten what it was that made him make the call.

The subsequent conversation was Roomies A and B trying to deduce what the phone call was about and failing. Slowly. I thought that was fucking hilarious and Roomy B and I shared a laugh about it.

Perhaps Roomy A originally made the phone call to warn Roomy B about the effects sustained and excessive weed smoking can have on short term memory. Or perhaps not.




<sub>This week I recommend:
1. lolcats
2. Central heating
3. Shoes


This week I do not recommend:
1. Holding the door
2. The number 14



Two weeks tomorrow</sub>

(This journal entry isn't mirrored, because.... well it's a bit shit really)

I changed my avatar! The lovely, talented and filthy (take a look at her previous journal entry titles) `snowmask has made me the bestest avatar evah!

I've made around 70 avatars for people since I've been at dA - but this is the first time anyone has made one for me!

Normally I wouldn't change my avatar, but because `snowmask's little naked dudes cover all bases (technically excellent, cute, hideous, funny) I had to have one!

Thank you `snowmask





In other news - after over a week of showering at work and wearing two pairs of trousers at home, central heating and hot water have finally returned to my flat. The old boiler and water tank (which were about as old as me) finally gave up the ghost so we've got a new one that has a digital display that lights up light blue when you toggle the temperatures. It's space age!

That's not all! I also got myself a new desk for my computer! I love it! It has room for my speakers, PC tower, mixing desk, compressor, Emu Proteus aaaaand amp.




<sub>This week I recommend:
1. lolcats
2. Never being knowingly undersold
3. Clean window ledges
4. Being out of touch, being out of time and you'll be singing that all day now



This week I do not recommend:
1. The subcontinents answer to The Chucklebrothers
2. Black baths



April</sub>

(This journal entry isn't mirrored, because.... well it's a bit shit really)

There was a bomb scare in my corner of London this morning. I got to work early (yes, really) and so I was in the office browsing dA (as I do when my boss isn't looking) - when I glanced out the window and saw scores of fire engines, police vans, ambulances, and emergency response teams. The old bill had cordoned off the entire high street. There were loads of anxious and confused office drones (you can spot them by the white iPod earbuds) not being able to get to their PC's. The train and tube station was closed. The traffic was gridlocked.

The worst thing about it was Starfucks was inaccessible due to the chaos so I was unable continue to foster my burgeoning coffee dependency (for which I'm laying solid foundations). Thankfully I managed to evade police lines, risking life and limb to visit Café Nero for a large latte and pan au chocolat in order to sate myself.

Word on the street was there was a suspect package by the lights outside Argos. It must have been very suspect for all that palaver. As if Osama Bin Laden would bother bombing Argos. It wouldn't exactly send shock waves around the western world and have a devastating effect on the US Primaries. I thought perhaps Osama had got some cheap-arse jewellery from the Elizabeth Duke range that had turned green and he wasn't happy with it.

As it turned out some plum had left a bag there by mistake. Oh well.

The funniest thing about it all was the security guard we have at work who sits on the front desk. He looks about 14, is skinny and has ridiculous spiky hair. Along with an embarrassing line in faux-white-boy Jamaican patois, he has a nervous twitch that is so pronounced it almost shakes his thick glasses from his nose every time he makes eye contact. All he does day-in, day-out is check people's passes as they leave and enter the building (which I do about 10 times a day for my smokey-smoke breaks). That's it. Nothing else. Sometimes he stares at the floor. Other times he monitors the CCTV while awkwardly adjusting his glasses. But when a crisis like this strikes he jumps into action and it is his chance to SHINE!

On my way out to get a coffee I asked what all the bother was about, he replied with a detailed explanation finishing with 'But don't worry YOU ARE SAFE HERE'. I looked at him and was like.... ' er... thanks'. I later looked out the window and saw that he had put himself in the danger zone by donning his orange jacket. He was trying to assist the police who looked like they were becoming increasingly annoyed by him buzzing around. As I saw him later on, I thought I should thank him for his selfless and valiant efforts ( )

'Thanks for what you did back there, man' I said. He looked back and without saying a word, gave me a nod that said it all.







<sub>This week I recommend:
1. lolcats


This week I do not recommend:
1. 1960's boilers
2. Wrapping



April</sub>