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[23 Nov 2008|11:48pm]
Moved to: http://gregoryyates.blogsome.com

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Whoa, that time went by. [30 Apr 2008|08:40pm]

It's been quite a long time since my last update, but weirdly, not a lot has changed. I've been doing a lot, sure, but there actually haven't been that many changes in my life worth writing about - which is weird, because I'm using to everything being replaced (friends, commitments, etc.) on the flip of a coin. I think I like it, too.

Cyanide Eyes (my band) are kicking off after our first few gigs. We played the Irish Centre on the 27th March - it seems a loooong time ago now - which was entirely kickass, not to mention fucking rewarding as a musician. We got on pretty late, after The Last Bullets (The Last Ballet) and When Autumn Falls (When Autumn Fails), which was a blow, but we managed to pull it back veeery quickly. Everyone loved us, and to be fair, I think we did thoroughly kerb stomp the other two bands.


According to a girl I know, we 'care about our music'. That's not as pretentious as it sounds; I think what she meant was that, because we are such perfectionists with every chord and beat we produce (that's no small amount due to me) we are genuinely sensitive to the way we're sounding. In a way, we're not there to please the crowd, though we always do; we're there to please ourselves, and prove we can play it just as hard. Which means that we actually enjoy our gigs, if anything, for the stage antics. ^^

The recent gig at the Way Inn was pretty similar, save for the fact that there were very few people to see us. We, errr, don't have much of a fanbase in Sutton Coldfield, to say the least - but we got a load of indie kids jumping around, which was... interesting.

Peace out.

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2nd place. Gah. [22 Mar 2008|12:13pm]

So, yeah, me and Simon came second place in that competition - which isn't inherently bad, you understand, what with the fact that we spanked a good many teams in the process of reaching the final. But there's still that gnawing sense of loss that we didn't quite clinch it and come away with the prize title. 'Quite' is pretty much the key word there, as two out of the five judges approached me after the competition and said something along the lines of: "It was too close for a unanimous decision, so we had to have a vote. We voted for you, but there were three for the girls from Wolverhampton."


Feh, maybe next time. I was mightily impressed with the way the girls managed to steer the title away from our comfort zone. They took "This House believes that all empires are bad." and put an emphasis on the 'all' in the sentence, which was a masterful stroke. Logically, we then had to argue that all empires are bad, instead of just saying that the empire as a construct/concept is what we would call 'bad' - which we did, with gusto, but it stopped us from bringing out some of our more brutal points.

Their main downfall as a team, though, regarding the question, was to bring Rome into the equation. They went down the predicted route of mimicking the Monty Python sketch of "Besides sanitation, roads, clothing... etc... what have the Romans ever done for us?", which of course, me and Simon pounced on quickly. The Romans are a terrible example for highlighting a 'good' empire, what with the slavery, the crucifixion, the continuous wars and suchlike.

It was a nice evening, though. ^^

I'm off.

Watashi wa densha de tomodachi to Birmingham ni ikimasu.

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Speech written! [16 Mar 2008|11:14pm]

“All empires are bad.”


Remember that it's designed to be read out aloud - so it's soaked in rhetoric. Also remember that I don't neccassarily agree with my argument; the Midlands institute just give us the topic and tell us whether we're opposing or proposing. I actually love empires. ^^

Any comments appreciated. The final to the competition is on Wednesday, so I can make some modifications before then.

Enjoy. : )



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Oh, and... [16 Mar 2008|07:58pm]

Check out my band's new myspace - especially if you're in or around the Birmingham area, because we're playing a gig on the 27th of March, at the Irish Club in Digbeth. It's set to be awesome, so GO GO GO.

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Ron may be gone but what about anon? [16 Mar 2008|04:00pm]

Yeah, we stuck it to the $cifags pretty hard yesterday, at the second of the 'Anonymous' protests. I got there around midday, not wanting to be the first around again (awkward shuffling is awkward) and found a substantially larger crowd that I could have anticipated. Considering that there was, at most, fifty people at the demonstration in February, the crowd of 100+ was certainly quite hefty - though, there were remarkably few faces I recognised. Well, masks, anyway. 

I can only think that many of the anonfags from the February protest lost gusto for the cause. I can't honestly blame them; the whole day was a little lacklustre, in a sense. There was a lot more shouting and waving of signs, and a great deal of enthusiasm, but there was still a depressing air about the day. I can attribute it to a few things:

It was raining. This doesn't sound like a lot, but I get that sense that it seriously matters when it comes to a protest; as with anything in British life, nobody gives a crap if it's raining. The flyers got wet, the people we were trying to appeal to started hurrying past to stay dry, and the guys who turned up to protest started to leave. Luckily, this was only in the latter stages of the day, but still: feh.

. Many of those who turned up aren't neccassarily those who are particularly set against the Church of $cientology, but those who are particularly for the protests. Five members of the public who I remember speaking to in February actually turned up in masks to join in this time round, which is a double edged sword. More numbers is always wonderful, but the problem lies in the fact that they've not really done their research. Yelling: "Scientology kills!" and "Scientology is evil!" isn't really helpful. At all. They're not morally neutral statements, so we can't level them at the organisation.

The best shouts were phrases like: "Lisa McPherson - why is she dead?" and "Religion is free - Scientology isn't!". These can both be backed up with objective evidence, and appear less... fanatical. We're trying to mimick a faceless majority here, and adding emotive statements to the issue isn't helpful.

. The 'party' theme, whilst on paper seemed like a good idea, was annoyingly counter-productive. There was thankfully very little of it in the Birmingham protest, but the moments where it did rise to the surface - someone decided to put party music on an amplifier - were irritating. It's doing nothing to the Scientologists, who were barely even present on the day, and it was just making the public either point and laugh or walk away awkwardly - neither of which are reactions that are likely to make them take our point of view seriously.

The argument of 'it'll make the protest more fun' is pretty fucking stupid, too. We're not there to have fun. If we're there to stand for six hours in the cold, without a break, handing out leaflets and speaking with random members of the public about the Co$, then so be it. I don't mind. I'm not there for a happy day out; I'm there to educate the public on a serious matter. Loudspeakers, megaphones, music, cake and party hats just get in the way of that.


So, yeah. Not the best of protests. But, I still got enough of the message I personally supported across, though. I can't even begin to count the number of everyday people walking on the streets of Birmingham who are now predisposed against the cult because of me and my friends, and all other things aside, that's more than enough of a protest for me.

anonfag, reporting out.

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And again. ^^ [12 Mar 2008|10:02pm]
you're quite funny, but your humour is sort of... normal, i think. dfficult to say. you're more loud than witty. i think this is because your life isn't matching up to the wild days you once had, and you need to find a way to make up for this. still, i like being around you.

you're the opposite: witty, but not exactly very fun to be around. never mind!

life must be pretty boring for you, because you keep interfering with things. stop it.

i don't really know you, but i'd like to. you seem really cool. i don't think you like yourself altogether so much, though. not cool.

your sense of humour is similar to mine, I think, but people are likely to take it an entirely different way. you're realising this slowly, and i can tell, but you only have a loose grip on the people you call your friends. i'm not sure what you do in your spare time, because most the people that know you despise you.

i adore you. come to my side of the world, and teach me to speak your language. i guarantee that we'll be the best of friends.

fuck you! could you afford to lose me as a friend? was it worth it?

it's like you have this totally seperate entity that you view as 'yourself', and you make your personal decisions based on this. you have goals in sight, but you enjoy the self-punishment cycle far too much to ever get them. no worries, though, i don't talk to you that much. you serve a purpose.

what the hell! i can't even begin to suss you out. you have some emotional problems, clearly, but i wouldn't know where to start with giving you anything closely resembling advice on them.

man! if i lived a life half as... sophisticated as your, my brain would explode.

you make me laugh every time i see you!

when you speak it sounds like your voice is put on, like a really eccentric drama.

stereotype stereotype stereotype stereotype.

i don't care why you did it, but what you did was possible the only action i'd ever describe as 'unforgiveable'. he never recovered. i think he's amazing, but when the light shines through, you can see the cracks you left in him. i'm glad he never forgave you, because i like to think that right before you died, you regretted that - and you got to take that guilt to your coffin. your only redeeming feature is that you've shown he and i exactly how not to be.  


i act differently when i'm around you, and i like it! it's like having a slightly different life. not in any escapist sense, though; i just like not having to make an effort. plus, we have good old fashioned fun together. woo! 
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[11 Mar 2008|07:53pm]
Okay. Part of me being less vicious involves me not saying things that I would normally express to people. I'm going to confess some things that have been on my mind. I'm not going to post any names - some people might read this - but for shits and giggles, I want to see what it looks like on the pages. Should be pretty cathartic. Let's try this:

you re-coloured your hair, but it actually makes you look older.

i think you lie a lot, but i enjoy telling myself that you're not, because i love getting caught up in your enthusiasm.

you're like me, but you don't know how to deal with people. enjoy having no friends, you misguided fuck.

you're so cool! that once a week i see you makes me smile, a lot. you're also really pretty, in the sense that you're actually 'pretty', not neccassarily 'hawt', which is better. you're more feminine than pretty much every girl in that room, and i would go out with you in a heartbeat if you'd give me any sign that you felt the same way about me. you do such interesting things in your spare time, and you're so creative. meet up with me! i'll woo you!

i love your accent so much. when you talk, i'm less concerned with the words themselves than how you say them. your voice is almost musical!

at first you seemed as cool as the person two posts up, but little by little i'm finding out that you're nowhere near as awesome as i thought you were - but still more awesome than you think you are.

you're my best friend. i hope you decide what you want from life. don't waste it!

you're also my best friend. you need to draw more.

you're awkward sometimes, and i think that you have some issues to resolve, but you're also my best friend and that's part of the deal, man.

you're also my best friend. sometimes i think that other people are bad for you.

yeah, you're hot, and pretty interesting - but the fact that people tell you this makes you vastly overconfident. you're not the life of the party. i hate to admit it, but i'd probably have sex with you to degrade you.

i just lied. i don't hate to admit it.

you are not the authority on everything! you have a stupid life!

i didn't cry at your funeral. sorry.

every time you tell me something about your life, or how you grew up, or something you did years ago, i'm even more proud.

you look like this girl from a film, but you're not as cool as her.

you say awkward things! stop saying awkward things!

we were once really, really good friends, but circumstances are making us go further apart. i could do something about it if i wanted, but it wouldn't work. we'll probably make up one day.

nobody listens when you speak! ahahahaha!

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Brr. [19 Feb 2008|07:56pm]
Veeeeeeeeeeery cold, very cold indeed. It was -5 last night. : [

I empathise with young Werther (From the epistles by Goethe). I hate being 'just friends'. It's entirely lame if you're actually into the girl, but pretending to only be into them platonically. Each time I see her, I'm less likely to end up with her, but if I stay away from her, chances are I'll be forgotten anyway. Bad situation. Not fun at all.

"I can no longer pray except to her; my imagination beholds no figure but hers."

I feel your pain, Werther. Okay, not quite as drastically. You're in love with her, but I just think this girl is very, very cool.

In other news, I got my first hardback publication! I'll post more about it later, when I'm less pressed for time.
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Catching up. [13 Feb 2008|07:12pm]

Things I have achieved recently.

Actually getting to the stage where I have something to show for my band's efforts! Check out the new material, hot off the... err... recording laptop from Cyanide Eyes:

http://boomp3.com/m/2e1cf47f7e12 <--- heavy opening song.
http://boomp3.com/m/4818bcec07e0/recursion  <--- softer song.

They're both unnamed. Have a listen and rate them through comments; all criticisms are welcome. The recordings are actually quite rough, being done on a laptop, and mastered on the same laptop. Sure, there were a wealth of amps and preamps, but it's pretty back-to-basics stuff.

. Joining the Anonymous protest on February the 10th. That was immense. I don't care if we weren't accurately representing Anonymous as an organisation (or is that disorganisation) but the work we did in Birmingham was amazing. Hear my voice on www.scratchradio.co.uk (the bit marked 'Scientology Protest'). Really good coverage, and entirely better than the biased crap ITV gave us.

. Reading Goldfish, a comic book by some author I can't remember. Read it. It's brilliant.

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Oh! [27 Jan 2008|11:02pm]
Oh, and, a picture of Whittaker:


<------- weirdly, I found this dude by googling my own name.
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Nick Whittaker. A Mage for the Wanton WoD chronicle. Enjoy, Jessica! [27 Jan 2008|10:59pm]
[ mood | creative ]

"There ain't no business like show business."

Nicholas Whittaker came to the 'States in 1995, a rising actor and star in the film industry - born of humble beginnings to Sally and James Whittaker, a couple of gentle country folk from Kilkenny, Ireland. To be a star in America required charisma, hard work, and a large amount of luck, but the younger, more innocent Nick had it in spades, and was set to take the place by storm. Of course, he did, but in a very different way, and that's where the tragic story begins.

'Cause Nick Whittaker went and got himself ruined, you see. And like any great actor, he did so spectacularly.

It was the women that did it. Of course, Nick knew that there were certain... perks that went with the fame. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd recieved that kind of attention for his performance on stage; on the contrary, he was a good-looking guy, and with the kind of prestige he was headed for, what girl would turn him down? No, it was this particular breed of women that brought him down. Everyone knows the type: husky voice, silky sweet scent...

...yeah, that type. Once they got Whittaker under their thumb, they could make him do anything. Literally anything, up to and including hard drugs, ridiculous gambling sessions and drunken nights spent abroad - which is all fun and games until someone gets hurt, and loses their career because of it. Which is exactly what happened, after one particularly fierce night spent high in Amsterdam.

"You're off the cast, Whittaker!" the director had screeched in that high pitched shriek of his. "And I'm cancelling your contract! You're a waste of space, you frickin' mick!"

That was it. The dream was over. Nick ran back home, crawled back into the bottle and wasted a year on his mother's sofa, vaguely considering suicide until one night, he decided to make things right. He decided that there was only one thing that could help him, and that was the church. He found God. And like any great actor, he did so spectacularly.

Three years passed, and he was a priest of the Catholic Church. Another year, and Father Nick Whittaker had his own congregation, far out in a farming village. It was a pleasant enough place, far cry as it was from the booming cities of the U.S.A, and seemingly a solid rock of faith to build Nick's worship to God upon. Every week, the old folk would attend Mass, and then shuffle off to whatever it was these sleepy towns did in their spare time.

It was alright for a while. Really, it was. Nick relished the open air, and the free time to reflect on things. But as time went by, little by little, the shepherd realised that his flock had gone astray; whilst they turned up to church on Sundays, their hearts were empty. Devoid of any genuine emotion, or passion. It was as if they were merely empty husks of people, uttering their dead devotions in absence of conviction. They had no faith, and that troubled Whittaker, more than it would trouble any other priest of the Lord. He lost whole nights of sleep, tossing and turning out of fear for his congregation.

When Nicholas stopped sleeping, the killing happened.

There was just one at first: an old lady named Martha. She was found lying prostate in her kitchen, severe burns and lacerations across her body. All the people of the town, not to mention her close friends, were horrified and sickened by the event; who would do such a thing? Such was the effect it had, that the turnout at Nicholas' church that Sunday was the greatest the village had ever seen.

To this day, Nicholas doesn't know if he was responsible for killing Martha. He probably never will. Though, what he is certain of was that her death and the spiritual uplifting of his flock from it, put him on the road towards an enlightenment he had been striving for his whole life. It came in the form of an Awakening, the Supernal manifestation of the faith longing to be freed. On the way home from the funeral of Martha, as Nicholas was driving his car home, a bright white light started to fill his vision, blinding in its intensity. He swerved to try and get away from it, wrenching the vehicle off the road - but it remained, growing and growing until it encompassed all of his vision. Then it spoke, in words that echoed not in his ears but in his mind.

It told him of his destiny. It told him of his duty as a follower of Christ, and of the hardships he was to endure. It told him of the praise the angels gave to his purity, and his faith in the Lord - but most importantly, it told him of his power. He was no longer a servant of the church, and yet neither was he to be a martyr.

He was to be a living, breathing saint, and a testament to all that would follow him.

Nick woke up to a faceful of broken glass and a searing pain in his head. He barely had time to smear his name in blood on the smashed windscreen - now, why did he do that? - before he passed out.

One month, four sessions of life-saving surgery, and fifty-three stitches later, and Whittaker has arrived in ?The City?, ready to make his impact in the way only he can.

And like any actor, he'll do so spectacularly.

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Eek. [17 Jan 2008|10:41pm]
Whoa. Last night I had a really intense dream. I was with this woman I know, I won't say her name, waking her up from this deep sleep in a really gentle way; I was stroking her hair, saying her name... and there was nothing sexual about it - just a deep feeling of caring. Weird as fuck, considering who she is.

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Eek. [10 Dec 2007|05:03pm]
[ mood | shocked ]

Actually, just before I go...


Lincoln is screwed. Once again, a whole quadrant  of 'safe' territory has been taken down by the Big Bash. Zeds are unstoppable!

Screw the relief effort. I'm going back to Dunnel Hills. I need the DHPD!

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Aaaand, here's an essay! [10 Dec 2007|04:45pm]
[ mood | accomplished ]

...well, half:

 Well, that's it so far, anyway. By the end of it, I'll have cut a great deal of that away. Like pruning, really. But that's the bare bones of what I'm trying to get across in the first half of the essay. My only pet hate is that massive paragraphs. I think they're ugly, hard to read, and they don't get the point across in such a punchy style as to drive it home. Rhetoric really doesn't work when you're carrying on for another five lines.

In any case, it's what gets the grade, so I'll grit my teeth and bear with it.

Any criticisms welcome! I'll get back to you after Japanese.

Ja mata! ^^
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Another update gap. Grr. [09 Dec 2007|01:11pm]
[ mood | calm ]

Yeah, LJ, I have committment issues. I'll post more! I promise!

Actually, not that many things have changed since I last posted. I'm now full of sandwich - salami, melted edam cheese and jalapenos for any who appreciate the wonder of bread-filling-bread combos - and vaguely contemplating doing a 2,000 word essay on Shakespeare's Othello. It's on the topic of women, as opposed to the usual themes of deception, treachery and the like, which makes things harder but infinitely more rewarding when it's all done. Iago, whilst certainly being fucking awesome as a character, is a bit of a one-trick pony when it comes to writing about him.

As to Desdemona... well, her ass is mine. I'll post my destruction of her as a credible character when I'm finished up. Which may be tonight - who knows?

In other news, I'm with another band now, after vaguely trawling through advertisments in music shops and asking around. It's pretty serious, actually; I had to audition, as opposed to just jamming through something, but that went just fine. Mainly because I know the lead guitarist very well, and I've been playing bass guitar for about five years now. The music is mostly metal, with definite influences from Staind, Deftones, KoRn, White Zombie, Il Nino, etc. It's nothing special, and by no means unique, but the songs we have nailed down sound kickass, so that's all cool.

Roleplaying is the same-old-same-old. I'm not writing as much, so consequently I'm not playing as many WoD chat-based games, but I have a nifty V:tR going on the tabletop with my usual group of scoundrels. That's shaping up well.

Peace out~


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New comic books, wooooo. [07 Nov 2007|07:55pm]

Owchie in the stomach.

I know the feeling. As in, really know; I just ate a whole one of those Hindu 'laddu' cake things and now it is screaming at me: "Noooo, you terrible man, they were for shaaaaring!" and making me feel ever-so-slightly nauseous. But meh, it was worth it. Mmmm, laddu. I love my Hindu friends.

Oh, and, err, thanks to the kind person who corrected my Japanese sentence a bit ago. Much appreciated! ^^

Check out my current Amazon wishlist:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Super-Relax-Cibo-Matto/dp/B000002NCR/ref=sr_1_1/202-0239544-4255069?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1194464375&sr=8-1       <------- Cibo Matto, 'Super Relax EP'. I really want to hear those remixes.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Watchmen-Alan-Moore/dp/1852860243/ref=sr_1_1/202-0239544-4255069?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1194464826&sr=1-1    <------- The Watchmen, by Alan Moore. People keep telling me to read this, so I'll go out on a limb and get a copy. I really loved V for Vendetta, so if it isn't too far off that style, then I'm sure I'll like this in equal measure. No worries, though; on Amazon, it's not pricey enough to make me think twice about it.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Sin-City-Hard-Goodbye-Horse/dp/1593072937/ref=sr_1_1/202-0239544-4255069?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1194465048&sr=1-1   <------ Oddly enough, I haven't read The Hard Goodbye yet, even though I've pretty much read every single other Sin City graphic novel, bar The Big Fat Kill and Family Values. I might get the former of those two, but the latter didn't interest me so much. Maybe I'll get it to complete the collection or something; I don't know.

Ja mata. : )

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[06 Nov 2007|10:19pm]
[ mood | energetic ]

Oooh, long time no update. I've been pretty damn busy since college lazy recently. Sue me!

Lots of stuff happening, though; my birthday came and went at the weekend, leaving me with a few awesome gifts. I got this cute manga book from my elder sister - I'm working on, err, translating the title, so watch this space - as well as a copy of Changeling: the Lost from my parents [I'll wite a mini-review on that when I've read enough of it], and an English-Japanese dictionary from my other female sibling. As for the rest of the relatives... well, their impartations generally consist of Amazon vouchers. Which is cool with me, 'cause I get to order my own presents and suchlike. : )

I have a good £50 to spend on there, so if anyone has any suggestions, go ahead and comment. Currently, my only committment is the Cibo Matto (self titled) album. As in, the really old one - and the one that, in my opinion, really nails down the whole 'Yuka Honda creeping you out and chilling you out simultaneously' trademark that really defines that band. In other words, it's the album with weirdass, almost ethereal song 'Sugar Water' on it. And 'Apple', which I always loved, in a psychotic-go-happy sort of way.

Yeah, Cibo Matto are weird.

College has started again, bringing with it the kind of order and busy timetable I like in my life. Oddly enough, I get more done when I have less free time; it's probably something to do with 'work ethic' or something along those lines. I've gone hardcore with memorising my Japanese characters (Hiragana), and I now know... 40? At least? To be fair, you just add a couple of lines to syllables like 'ka' and you get 'ga', so many of them are quite similar anyway.

Current projects for the Artik!

1. Paint the Mordheim warband.

While I wait for my spanking new Witch Hunters warband to arrive, I'm practicing my painting on my current Mercenaries group. I'll post some pictures if I can, but the colour scheme is pretty simple. For the marksmen, who are armed with handguns, I paint their shirts and sleeves black-and-white, and their trousers dark blue. Gives them the impression of being part of some Nuln artillery college or something along those lines. Either way, they're looking pretty nice. I need to work on some sort of conversion to make them more unique, though.

2. Get a Japanese pen-friend.

Okay, I can't actually speak that much Japanese, but I'm guessing that putting some effort into what I do know with someone who is actually Japanese will help. My teacher is usually too busy for that kind of thing.

3. Write some more of Messiah. Or anything, damnit.

Yeah, as it says. I've been really lazy with my writing recently, and I need to get back to work. Else I'll never finish my novel. Grr.

Anyway, I'm pretty tired now - I just got back from a national debating competition - so I'm going to go get some shuteye. Later all, and peace out. ^^

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Dingoes ate my baby! [18 Oct 2007|03:05pm]
[ mood | relaxed ]

Heheee. Some kind soul posted all the Mighty Boosh radio show on the interwebs, so I just downloaded them. ^^

I think it's the turn of phrase that makes that show so funny. They missed out some of that kind of giggle in the stand up, and the television series on BBC3, so it's nice to hear the stuff that really makes me laugh again:

"I'm gonna kill you with a brick. Squeeze your head and burst it like a chip."
"Where have you been? Have you spent the last three years in a Chinese pipe?"

It's the way Vince delivers it. : )

In other news, I now have a week's holiday. I'm visiting my uncle for a few days, but after that it's all free time, which I've got a load of stuff planned for. Well, by a 'load of stuff', I mean 'copious TT roleplaying and nerdery'  - but that hardly matters in the grand scheme of things. I'll try and set an hour or two aside a day to practice my Hiragana (one of the three Japanese written languages). So far I know, pretty much off by heart:

a, i, e, o, u
ki, ke, ka, ko, ku
tsu, chi, ta, to, te
shi, sa, so, su, se

That's twenty. By the end of the next week or so, I want to double that. Tough task... maybe. I'll see.

Tonight will see the posting of my spanking new Mage: the Awakening character for Macai's game. Until then, ja mata.

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Yatta! [15 Oct 2007|09:13pm]
[ mood | enthralled ]

Me: Anata no denwa bangoo wa nan-ban desuka?
You: Watashi no denwa bangoo wa zero-ichi-ni-ni-no-roku-san-kyuu-no-ichi-nana-hachi-san

That was me asking for you phone number, and you telling me it in Japanese.

See also:


I <3 Japanese. ^^ 

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