Sunday, February 18, 2007

Been for a walk...

in Derbyshire with my mate Sean. I was very brave given my knee is knackered from a running injury. It will require surgery but until then remains painful. Sean reckons the pain is guilt collecting all in one place.

After last weekend's trip to Wales I lamented how not being near the sea was the only disadvantage of Manchester's locale and he said global warming would soon sort that out.

And my knee? It's not guilt it's cartilage. As we walked Sean recommended the pain be offered up for the holy souls in Purgatory. When reminded how Vatican II did away with Purgatory he said in that case I should stop whingeing.

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Here's a photo I took...

last weekend on Angelsey. The photoshop problem is solved. The problem was me not it. I should have read the manual. Actually I did read the manual and didn't understand it so became exhausted, took to drink, had to lie down. We're friends again, me and photoshop, though the gloss has gone from the relationship.

Will it ever return?

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Took photoshop...

to see the man. The man said the problem was me. Said I should read the manual. Cost me £10 to be told that. Oh woe. But of course he's right. This evening I've been reading the manual and remain unenlightened. Read the bloody manual indeed. Has anyone seen the manual? Hmm? Hmm? It's got 'User Guide' on the front, top right corner, in red. Not sure to whom it's referring.

On Saturday I shall buy another book, see if there's a Photoshop for Dummies or the like.

My bedroom walls are covered in bookshelves that groan with books, moan with books. Whenever I buy a new book they say, "For fucks sake. Give it rest will ya! Too much work here." But I'm ruthless, I say "Shelves, shut the fuck up. You have only one purpose and communicating with me is not it. Have another book." I've this dreadful thought of all my books being replaced, perhaps imperceptibly by volumes on Photoshop and the shelves whingeing about titles like "PHOTOSHOP DOH!" or "PHOTOSHOP! YES YOU! PAY ATTENTION. NO DON'T FALL ASLEEP IT'S STILL ONLY PAGE ONE. JESUS H CHRIST HE'S NODDED OFF" or "PHOTOSHOP! IF 6 MONTHS ACTIVE SERVICE DON'T BRING HIM ROUND NOTHING WILL" or "YOU WEED, CALL YOURSELF A MAN?"

Feel the Company might have lost their way in those later volumes.

Maybe I should look to see if they do something on A4, laminated, single sheet, printed one side only...

Might suggest it to them in a letter.

Monday, February 12, 2007

In Raymond Carver's short...

story 'The Hair' a man is bothered to such an extent by a tiny hair caught in his teeth he feels unwell, leaves work, travels home, falls asleep and has nightmares. What begins as a small irritant by the day's end achieves proportions that affect his sense of self, his sense of wellbeing, indeed the very foundations of whom he actually is. Adobe Photoshop 5 is currently achieving the same results with me. I know, I know, in the past I've loved AP5 with a passion bordering on the indecent and have blogged to that effect, however it's now playing me up and so my patience is wearing thin. Newspapers can be read through my patience so thin has it become, indeed street urchins have noticed and shout "Look at that man's patience. It is so thin. Ha ha, ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha" then they throw old cabbage until today that is when one threw a fridge door. And to think I only used to wonder where they got the cabbage.

That crack in my bathroom wall has shifted again and the stair carpet is fraying near the top where I could slip, plunge down the stairs, maybe to land on this cup or this trap.

Tomorrow I'm gonna take my pc to the menders, get bloody photoshop mended. Just got to find a safe way out of the house, past creaky radiators and laughing mice. Might creep out, could pretend to be only visiting, perhaps reading a meter. How much gas? And he lives alone? That's not a carbon footprint it's a bloody indentation...

Bollocks, think I'll stay in bed...

Friday, February 09, 2007

It has snowed in

the UK. Hurrah!

All Wednesday tv and radio warned of snow throughout the UK, loads of snow, blizzards even, near death experiences, ice, freezing temperatures, danger, fear, keep family at home, indeed lock family in home, dust off sofa duvets, get guns, move endowments into candle futures.

I was excited, I had expectations. Sod guns, bugger death, stuff danger, to hell with shame (sorry, wrong post), spit on tallow, for I was... prepared.

On Thursday morning as if a gazelle I sprang from bed and rushed to the window, but in Manchester it had rained. And it's still fucking raining.


Tomorrow I'm gonna drive to where there is snow. I will not be denied. Oh no.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Dark Matter...

is once again in the news. This afternoon on Radio 4's PM programme a scientist said they have now measured the temperature of Dark Matter and found it warm. I missed the bit when he said what is was warm compared to.

Dark Matter it seems is what stops us flying off. Not us off planets so much as planets off stars, stars off galaxies and galaxies off, well, just off. Being dark it can't be seen but being matter it's definitely there. How do they know? Apparently galaxies spin really fast, indeed so fast that if our universe was the Tuesday wash we'd all now be lying in next door's front garden. However, despite a universal spin cycle that only runs on max we nevertheless cling together. Today's radio scientist said Dark Matter can be likened to conker string, spin the conker and though a centrifugal force propels it outwards the string stops it flying off. I'm comforted by this as I've never liked the idea we might be prone to flying off.

On a note of caution this hidden matter thing is further complicated by a larger hidden energy thing, so it may turn out we're the flying off types anyway.

In as much as scientists struggle to put their finger on Dark Matter then so they also struggle to obtain proof of Dark Energy, although only a year ago I suggested a place where they might take that first peek.

I only hope it's all solved before the neighbours notice what's coming their way and start to complain.

Tuesday, February 06, 2007


viagra joke heard on Radio 2.

Man goes into Doctor's and says,
"Doctor, I've got a problem, in the sexual department."
Doctor says, "I've got just the cure, blue pills, called Viagra."
Man looks down and says, "Will I be able to get it over the counter."
Doctor says, "Not with this treatment, no."

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...

Monday, February 05, 2007

My mate D is...

attracted to unusual wrist watches. That is until he bought this one and now he has no wrists.

Saturday, February 03, 2007


is a marketable commodity. In a dark part of town next to the trotter emporium there's a store that sells superstition from a jar. I was mooching midweek around Amulets, for that is its name when I lingered too long beneath a dreamcatcher that dripped on my head. One moment it's copper bangles the next I'm pursued by four monsters with foul breath through a really long launderette. I was hampered in my escape by having to put money in every tenth washer. Breathlessly I ran, stopped, put in money, moved wash cycles on, folded towels, was pursued. The monsters I saw stopped at every eighth machine and folded sheets, however sheets need more folding than towels so they started to fall behind. I slowed, because when they stopped they gossiped, about family, about friends, about who was having an affair with whom, who'd been recently eaten by whom. Next thing I'm opposite a monster folding a beautifully white cotton bed sheet and we were stepping inward and outward like old time dancers. Stepping and folding the monster politely asked how my family was, I replied fine except for uncle Billy who lost his head whilst making soup, fell right off his shoulders and into the pot. The monster frowned and said the same thing happened to him once. Then a voice said,

"Excuse me." It was the shop owner.

I woke up. "Er sorry," I said

"Would you mind not draining the dream catchers they're expensive."
I said "No they aren't."
And he said, "Oh alright, they don't cost that much but I like to keep them fresh. And them bangles too." He nodded at the three copper bands that were turning my skin green.
"Looks like these are draining too, some sort of green." I said.
"Hey you." He shouted over my shoulder to another customer who blinked back to reality. "No lingering under the dream catchers, pulleese."
She said "Bloody hell, I was suddenly in this launderette being pursued by monsters..."
I said to the shop owner, "You cheapskate, they all have the same dream. The launderette dream."

He apologised by explaining how they came to him as a job lot, sort of fell off the back of a lorry. For keeping his secret he presented us both with a free bag of superstition. Outside the store I said to my fellow customer.
"What you going to do with your bag?"
She replied, "I'm going to sprinkle it on my husband's food to dilute his hyper-rationalism because it's driving me mad."
"Hey," I said, " You have a reason to use some unreason." And we both laughed.

I'm not sure what to do with my bag, I'll probably feed it to the alley cats who live out back as they'll eat anything.