tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30128542009-07-08T10:16:46.046ZCast and Locationspeternoreply@blogger.comBlogger2448125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-91288151189116893092009-07-08T09:16:00.006Z2009-07-08T10:16:46.056Z

Dead. And buried. But not mourned, by me at least.Yes, you've guessed. Michael Jackson, the "King of Pop".Says who?Michael Jackson has for decades been a media joke, and since his death even more so.Watch my lips: Michael Jackson is a musical non-entity.Musical GreatsOK. I know he was after my time, my time being that of Elvis, The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. But then so were ABBA. And so

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-86738132876322555082009-06-21T15:04:00.002Z2009-06-21T15:11:16.809Z

Northern hemisphere summer solstice 2009 was at 0545 UT/GMT this morning.This would be 6.45am BST or 7.45 am CET.Betcha you missed it! (I didn't... couldn't sleep for excitement!) Stroked zoe and looked at the sun, already high as a pie in the sky. Zoe was warm with solar radiation. Loving the solstice, because this is the lightest day of her life.Typical figures: Sunshine on Leith from 04.25 to

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-10421740475983621392009-06-06T08:14:00.004Z2009-06-06T08:21:05.073Z

Last night I dreamt I shagged Julie Burchill. She was really just putting me up cos I was homeless, but we ended up shagging. I felt she wanted it, and hate to say no to anyone. Plus she only had one bed. Can't remember whether I had a hardon or not. Too much information sweetie. I remember she ate a lot. Had to take the baguette off her so I could shag her properly.

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-14374033488980598112009-06-05T08:34:00.003Z2009-06-05T09:00:38.074Z

"Erm, excuse me, but is it not somewhat illegal to have candidates inside the Polling Building?" I asked. It was last night, after various pubs, at the Euro Elections. My Polling Place had always been Lorne Street Primary School, for decades it'd been there, but now and the last time it's moved to some Church Hall in Henderson Street. Just round the back from Lidl really, who should have been

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-15231956265397883252009-06-05T00:40:00.003Z2009-06-05T00:56:40.206Z

I know for most people it's a blessing. Little gadget that rings and lets you talk to people who aren't there. Magic!! What would our ancestors have said?But whereas as it takes two to tango, so they say, although most of my life has been spent in solitary tangoing, two to do that, it takes only one to make a phone call. That supreme arrogance. I will phone you up. I have the power to make that

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-20283811625909369572009-06-01T19:28:00.010Z2009-06-01T21:47:40.874Z

A decade ago when the internet was young, and blogging was a word no-one had heard of, Dusty Springfield died. That's right. Went and gone and died, with nary an HTML opinion to be read. Except strangely here. Well not quite here. The site before this, which was called magnificat's home page. And it went ballistic. Big, bigger, maybe even the biggest. Put my website on the map, our dead Dusty did

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-81834713521560023592009-04-15T07:57:00.003Z2009-04-15T08:54:22.670Z

And hi! That's right! I've left the guild. Guild? What guild? I hear you asking. Well it's (or rather was) my World of Warcraft guild, which I won't name for reasons of privacy (and Google, natch). So what's a damn guild then, and why does it matter that you've left? In a world full of dead Jade Goodys why should I spend my time reading about a game I neither know nor care about?Well I can tell

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-12485306618448120772009-04-05T04:14:00.003Z2009-04-05T05:43:05.632Z

And hi! Howya doin? It was four in the morning about an hour ago, and now it's just about five. At nine I'm due at Stewart's and after that we're tackling some Pentlands. Just a few, like the old men we nowadays are. A lady friend of Stew's will be there whom I haven't met, yet strangely I'm not feeling terrified.This is progress. As is me not logging onto Warcraft since Thursday. That's right.

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-52992953980257193882009-03-17T19:24:00.005Z2009-03-17T21:40:13.463Z

Sitting in a delicious bar in Rose Street, watching the early evening, after work, not-yet-going-out punters. The music is mellow, the system above average.Nothing unusual about that, I hear you think, and you would be right. No, the unusual bit starts in about one hour when I go home. Home to the MMORPG (Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game) where I spend all my time these days. A

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-24941363592620744802009-03-05T19:56:00.002Z2009-03-05T21:08:51.500Z

Listen. If this is to happen right now you've got to excuse the typing and stuff. If we wait for typographical perfection it just ain't gonna happen. (Says he, after three perfect sentences.)Reason is my head is full on. Full on, but not with the three pints of cheap lager I#ve just had, the first for over a week. No, not with those, but much morfe iwth the compugter game i logged on tgo at 6

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-83075447496350463552009-02-24T17:54:00.006Z2009-02-25T00:05:26.633Z

It was so lovely, Sunday, writing to you twice and reading your replies. Such loyalty is rare these days. So lovely, Sunday, that I made today something of a reprise. That's right. Back to da Pentlands, and then back to you on my nice new laptop. The laptop which has cost me my hair once again, but there ya go. Hair today. Never, ever get a Wireless N card and sit two feet away from it for hours

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-4006336260289895782009-02-22T11:52:00.004Z2009-02-24T23:56:09.574Z

On top of Turnhouse Hill, in the Pentlands. Not playing World of Warcraft. Even though it was a great struggle just to go out of the house.Had to stop five times just to get this far. The future is bleak, but richer, as the alcohol bill is now zero. As are company and conversation. But I don't care. Warcraft owns everything. Level 40 now.LATER, BACK HOME, STILL NOT PLAYING WARCRAFT[Ed: you know

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-22096453906624701862009-01-20T19:28:00.004Z2009-01-21T10:06:04.828Z

Oh dear me it seems to have happened.In December there were two aims, one to simply pass the time, and the other to check out this game everyone was talking about, World of Warcraft.At first I joked with you here - made subheadings of WORLD OF WARCRAFT. Joked about the things people said, prophesied with my pen.And then, for those who pay attention, there came descriptions of the real world being

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-39823936124961906482009-01-16T11:19:00.003Z2009-01-16T11:28:35.204Z

Interesting evening on the screens last night, where(a) Channel Four stuck the knife into Paul Burrell(b) Paul Burrell stuck the knife into Prince Charles(c) Coolio stuck the knife into all the CBB women as usual, and (d) Me, I stuck my very expensive two-hander axe with twin blades into the usual gang of monsters."Is this game (World of Warfare) as addictive as they say?" I asked on a chatting

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-1757589100878816512009-01-14T09:38:00.003Z2009-01-14T10:49:45.183Z

This portion was started yesterday afternoon, Tuesday in the pub, but got interrupted.Well, maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but she certainly changed this day. Let me explain.It's nine this morning and the forecast is good. Zero or minus one, lots of sun, and wind only 29 mph, as opposed to the 69, yes 69 mph on Sunday. Perfect for the hills, in other words. And normally that would be a

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-53162607928234156772009-01-09T09:23:00.003Z2009-01-09T11:06:37.280Z

Round about this time of year I have to pull myself together and realise I live in a world which contains people other than me. People who've been very kind and to whom I've not replied. People who will take so much, but not go on for ever. People like you.Warcraft has delayed things a bit, but more of that later. Yesterday I took myself off to the Regent, keyboard in pocket, to reply to the

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-47033607830050960842009-01-05T07:23:00.004Z2009-01-05T08:11:27.275Z

Yesterday was glorious, quite wonderful, because it had no work and wasn't in December. A day, in short, just for "me-time". Nice me-time, as opposed to the alternative. Thanks to whomever phoned in the afternoon, but I can't pick up quite yet. Even listening to messages would still be too intrusive. But it will come. It's all good. And I did a washing and even washed up. Around three got ready

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-22166700550474431652009-01-03T08:58:00.003Z2009-01-03T09:22:56.697Z

So the ghost train pulls in to the station, and gingerly and unsteadily I step out of the car. The car which has been my home for the last couple of weeks or so, but which will now stand idle for another eleven months. Darling zoe has her rhythms; I have mine. December, especially the second fortnight, proved every bit the white-knuckle I feared, and yet also in a strange way embrace. Excitement.

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-71525144228292966782008-12-31T09:25:00.004Z2008-12-31T10:19:17.859Z

Yay me.Ten past eight this evening (give or take a leap second or two) terra firma will be back where she was sixty two years ago when yours truly popped out of my mother's front bottom. With a fully-formed set of neuroses.Who would have thought it?ALMOST THEREWalking around town yesterday, watching the preparations for the world's most famous New Year party. (Called Hogmanay in these parts. No

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-23436629061014968452008-12-26T11:05:00.003Z2008-12-26T11:26:51.772Z

Well, that's the shortest day and the happiest day coped with. Still to come: birthday, mother's deathday, and the end of the calendar year. But these (conveniently) all coincide on the thirty-first. So that's all right then. Be a doddle. December. Doncha just luvvit!Yesterday began a slow news day. They were even bleating on about something that happened in Hull last Christmas. Last Christmas.

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-12274538143858412492008-12-25T09:05:00.002Z2008-12-25T09:32:42.187Z

...Merry Christmas. Have a lovely one.Darling Zoe and I have decided not to bother with turkey this year, as it's usually too much for just the two of us, so we've plumped instead for Iceland Prawn Platter. (The shop, not the country.) You get six different sorts of prawn treat, and dip, for just five quid. A meal for sharing with your loved one.STABAT RECTUMI see old "Ratty" Ratzinger has been

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-73384762910862172152008-12-21T09:06:00.003Z2008-12-21T09:35:19.735Z

Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum.As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be. World without end, amen.Today's Solstice is at 12.04 UTC/GMT. It's probably the most important of the natural festivals, and entire structures have been built to detect it - Stonehenge being only the most famous. The BBC ignored it completely, but as always found time for

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-82831599203265196502008-12-20T17:00:00.002Z2008-12-20T17:04:39.290Z

Yes, less than 24 hours to the Solstice. It's at midday tomorrow - while you're making lunch, for those who make that sort of thing on Sundays.Teatime here in Depression Mansions - after a reasonably successful afternoon at work. Well - it was very successful. Lovely to see them all again, but a bit embarrassed at the gifts, seeing as I'd bought none at all, due to self-centredness. To be honest,

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-42876784611896637662008-12-19T22:15:00.004Z2008-12-19T23:00:56.654Z

And hi!Thank you so much to all the lovely people in yesterday's comment box. And all the other comment boxes. Without a word of a lie you are the pick of humankind. Human kindness. Pick of.Times like this I'm reminded of my late mother, who said that the reason she had to be hospitalised every now and then was just to get people to notice she was there.Shame.So that was my little hospitalisation

peternoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012854.post-53978241967200414932008-12-18T20:06:00.005Z2008-12-19T08:48:04.401Z

Hi. The great photo giveaway has ended due to lack of interest. Can't even give it away.Thanks to zed in Belgium for her kind encouragement, and to others also at the beginning.Clearly this weblog has run its course. Six readers on a good day.Mood is odd. Near-constant panic, yet little despair. Life on hold. I know it'll soon be over - just can't meet my friends when they suggest it. Can't.

peternoreply@blogger.com