what?! would you? with the king?

Huzzah, I have the Internet in my room on my own computer! And it only took two years and the help of a trained professional! Yay!

It's times like this I wonder if I am, truly, a geek.

Then I just look at my desk and see it covered in useless cables, game manuals, DVDs and back issues of Turok comics, and I sigh in relief.

the end of all things.

So yeah, had my last exam yesterday, and I'm feeling pretty damned good about it. This time next year I'll be slightly more knowledgable about interactive entertainment - to whit, I'll have played a shit-load of games. Pretty kickass.

So I've got about three months to go until Uni. Three months of having no responsibility in my life, at all. The only three months left that I can enjoy without having to worry about coming home at any particular time, or getting a certain amount of sleep for a lecture in the morning, or having to pay off loan payments or a mortgage or any of that shit. basically I plan to completely fuck myself up while I still CAN, and then have a few days of preening to clean myself up before I jet off in September.

So, yeah. Nothing to do except what I want, when I want. Exactly what I've been wanting, ironically enough. And what I'll actually be striving for over the next few years - the security to be able to return to this immature teenage root. Odd, that.

hereditary.

Apparently my aunt Janice was scared of moths as well. Intruiging.

Now I just need to find someone in my family who's scared of horses.

fiction reflects reality.

I read a comic called Joe and Monkey. It's done by the same bloke who did No Pants Tuesday, and it's awesome, continually. I mean that. Awesome.


Anyway, my dad and I were having a conversation the other day, and he was telling me about his younger days.

"Did I ever tell you about Auld Joe and his monkey?" he asked.

I'll admit it, i was ever so slightly stunned.

"No," I replied. "Go on."

It seemed that my father used to mow the lawn for Auld Joe. It was roughly the size of two football fields, apparently, although the old man does tend to exaggerate a bit. This bloke was slightly eccentric, and regularly drunk. Apparently on a particular hot day, Young Wullie went into the house to get a drink or something, and Joe gave him a banana and said 'that should give you the strength to keep going for the rest of today.'

So yeah. Joe had a monkey. And this monkey was rather spectacular. It knew tricks, and such. And Joe loved his monkey, and would talk to it. it was, shall we say, his only companion. You might think it became almost human to him.

One day, Joe ran into the police station, ratted like you wouldn't believe, in a blind panic. He was ranting and raving about a murder, he'd killed someone, there was a fight, he was dead, buried in his garden and he couldn't contain his guilt any more.

The police took him home, and checked the garden. They found a small grave, and inside, sure enough, a corpse. Apparently Auld Joe had gotten extremely drunk, had a 'fight' with his monkey, killed it and buried it.



...it's a shame we don't have people like this any more except in stories.

on music and social standpoints.

Okay, so I was listening to some music that resurfaced on my computer a minute ago, and I was nodding along to it, thinking 'okay, this is kinda sweet, who is this?'

So I get up and poke my head around the door of my room.


It was Good Charlotte.

Yeah, I know.


So this got me thinking. I've always staunchly said that 'I like what I like, pretty much.' Now I'm thinking that's restricting me. Sure, I'll be open-minded to anything I've not heard before (for example, that A Capella group Martin's always raving about, who I decided were awful), but I do tend to typecast stuff. It's usually someone with a quasi-agenda.

I mean, I used to oppose Avril Lavigne with a passion. She just epitomised that particular brand of poser-punk. Now? Well, meh, I'll mouth along if it comes on the radio.
Oasis, again - passable music, stupid, stupid actions behind it. And yet, I'm finding myself quite attracted to their music that I hear thumping out of Craig's room.
Green Day I was never fond of. Their newest album is probably one of my most played.
And the Darkness... I Believe In A Thing Called Love just destroyed any respect I had had for them beforehand. But then I re-listen to tracks like Growing On Me and I realsie what made them so damned good in the first place.

And now we've come full circle, back to the poser-punk stylings of Good Charlotte. Music should really be about the message behind it, and they're not REALLY giving out the right message. But they still manage to make some good tunes, somehow.

I don't quite know how this fits into my twisted world view. I'll let you kno how it turns out.

i always do this.

So, another year has rolled around and yet again I'm facing the prospect of sitting in a room full of sweaty bodies all doing the same thing. And I'm in no way prepared.

Goddamn. I mean, really. Why do I act this silly - is it really necessary? I end up actually wanting to revise, and not. Instead, I sit there, thinking about how I should be revising. And moping about that fact. Whereas it would be much more productive to just get up off my arse and do something... but I don't have the motivation. And I sit there thinking 'Hmm, you should be motivated. Do it! Do it now!' but I'm not motivated enough to pay any attention.

So basically I think 'let's do revision.' Then my second thoughts go 'well, you're not. you MUST.' My third thoughts then shout at me because I've been lazy enough to get this far. And then they get into an argument with my second thoughts, and I just sit on my haunches like a big ol' potato (if potatoes actually HAD haunches), and let them fight it out. Doing nothing in the meantime.

Goddamn, I suck.

three years.

And then a wee bit. That's quite a long time, when you think about it.

woman.

This is almost what that painting that I mentioned earlier looked like, except this is much less competent - you can sort of get the idea, though. This does no justice to the actual painting, of course. My art skill is severely lacking.

a calculator and a calendar.

"Right now I'm going to sit down with a calculator and a calendar and figure out how many days until I get to feel my hot marine pressed up against me again. We're going to have a big family someday with hot children who will be popular and grow up to be marines and marine wives and all you can do is be jealous because GOD DIDN'T LOVE YOU ENOUGH TO MAKE YOU HOT!"

Again. This = Joke. Has to be.

If anyone's interested, the link is here.

highly annoying.

McDonalds only has about three vegetarian meals, and all of them force-feed you that horrible curry sauce that I can only assume is reconstituted diarrhea. It's quite a bit of trouble finding something that I can actually eat now that I'm on this no-meat bender.

Oh. Yeah. Did I not say? I'm sort of a vegetarian now. Not eating anything that was once sapient, or had the potential to be. It's just eating other intelligent things, and, well - that's not nice. In the eyes of Taoism (yes, I'm still into THAT, too), it's as bad as cannibalism.

So basically dairy, fruit and vegetables are now my staple food sources. Looking forward to it.

it's so fucking... summer.

Wow it's hot today. Really, really, hot. Too hot to do anything. Too hot for revision, or gaming. Too hot to even come up with any decent humour.

My sense of humour has MELTED. :D

i have no idea what this is.

http://crystal.palace.net/~llama/angst/bitter.html

I found this on a random Google search for nothing in particular. I have no idea what it is. But it's pretty damn thought-provoking.

most bizarre thing ever.

I uploaded the Kung-Foo Rooster wallpaper as below, and as soon as I typed LOL, a large blue block of text saying LOL detached itself from the top of my screen and drifted down it like a feather. This shall be tested further.

LOL is the word, I believe.

sixty-nine.

...is how old my father is today. Don't make any stupid jokes, he's already made them himself.


And you have no idea how disturbing that is.

oil and glass.

A guy came into Bits and Pieces the other day while I was in there to sell some art. Ju was actually looking for some, would you believe, and so he let him stay, and some of these art pieces just blew me away. If I'd have had forty notes right then and there, he would have had them just for this one abstract that he had. It looked just... like a wave of orange, and was coloured so vividly, but shift your perception and you could suddenly see that it was a woman.

It wasn't even what the female form looks like, though. It was what it is. And it just took my breath away.

an experiment.

This HAS to be an experiment of some sort on human nature. I refuse to believe that this person actually exists. The following is from a blog I found the other day.

"Maybe you should all move to Egypt and fight with the pharaoh and Taliban because you obviously aren't proud to be an American. If Hulk Hogan were still a wrestler he wouldn't give you all a high five because you're not REAL AMERICANS."

"I don't even go to college. I want to (even though I'm hot) but I think marriage is more important right now and so is raising a family and all that stuff that I see in movies and commercials."

"Then he gets a hot marine haircut and a sexy uniform that is just so…like…omigod, I don’t even know how to describe it! When he wears it and kisses me I raise one leg off the ground like I’m in a romantic movie because it’s like I really am! And while all the ugly and un-hot people are learning dumb stuff at college my boyfriend, who’s a really hot marine, is in an exotic country shooting mean brown people that want to blow hot people like me and him up."





...brown people? What the fuck?

GRRRR!

My Jump Britain DVDs haven't arrived yet. I assume that they'll be coming when Craig's birthday present does, but it's just slightly irritating that I can't watch it when everyone else can. :P

alternative response.

Nikki's party wasn't too bad. In fact, it was pretty kickass. And there were more people there that I knew than I knew that I knew, if that makes sense.

We went to the Litten Tree afterwards. For whatever reason, they started playing 'Remember You're a Womble.'

Now, Wombles have always inspired me. I have absolutely no idea why they do so, so much - I suppose it's because they have such a noble spirit and cause, or something. I guess that's what they were designed to do.

Well, anyway, since I ended up stuck as a third wheel at that particular point, I used a decent amount of my free text allowance texting pretty much every person I know. Taking advantage of my phone's multiple recipient function, I sent out the same message to everyone.


"Remember you're a Womble!"


Did I mention that this was just slightly after 1am? Soon (surprisingly) the texts started flooding in. I got quite an array of replies, and I'd like to share a couple with you.

"Y am i a womble? Cnt rem!"

"Since when?"

"il try2remembr that thanks wil,im sure it will come in useful! cu soon xx"

"Remember ur an arsehole!!"

"What the fuck?"

"How the fuck u going to forget? U just wake up one morning and realise it. Looking in the mirror wow I'm a womble."

"My womble days r over neway.Hehe."

"And yet all along I thought I was a smurf - what a comedown"

and

"Listen you dumb fuck STAY OUT OF MY LIFE", which I did think was rather excessive.
Ah well. To each his own.



By far the best response was from Liz, who now keeps texting and phoning me with references...

"It's your Uncle Bulgaria speaking! Hahaha, the Womble is not here at the moment... and this is Mark isn't it? Hello? Oh wait he doesn't have my number though..."

To the backing noise of a huge party. I assume she was slightly tipsy. And yet she still grapsed the idea of it better than anyone else, even though she couldn't remember who I am.

Odd, that.

goddamn.

As much as it pains me to say it, that can't be us on the mp3... they're all from the same gig, and in one of the tracks he mentions the Pick of Destiny. That wasn't even brushed upon at the Apollo gig. So... damn.

I had my fifteen seconds of fame, I guess. Although somewhere there is a recording of the whole Manchester show, that I am on.

It must be found.

what's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?

The first gig I ever went to was Tenacious D, with Siân. I went absolutely mental. Seriously. I was just yelling 'YEAAAGHHHHH!' at random times at the top of my voice. It was intense.

I know I made a complete arse of myself, but who cares, right? It's not like anyone will be able to replay it over and over again and laugh at me?

Oh, how damn wrong I was. A long time ago, Dan told me there was an mp3 somewhere about that was from the Apollo gig, and it had me screaming in it. I looked for it, but to no avail.


Ben's just enhanced some of the live D tracks he's got at home, and would you believe it, I'm there, yelling like an arsehole for the whole world to hear. These tracks are still out on the net somewhere.

They are: Flash, Saxaboom, Dude - I Totally Miss You, and I'm Roasted. The Saxaboom one is the most obvious. I'm eleven seconds in. I'll upload it at some point tonight.


And Siân is at seventeen seconds. :P




EDIT: File's uploaded at http://homepage.ntlworld.com/billytee/resource/saxaboom.mp3

That's there under the D's own recording policy, which is, and I quote:
'Have fun, go ahead tape our shows, but be cool and don't sell our stuff.'

You heard them.

the unspeakable

[22:57] (sn) hippy [28] I'M A GOOFY GOOBER! YEAH!: its very good.
[22:57] ::: eureka :::: lies
[22:57] (sn) hippy [28] I'M A GOOFY GOOBER! YEAH!: no it is
[22:58] (sn) hippy [28] I'M A GOOFY GOOBER! YEAH!: very hard
[22:58] ::: eureka :::: so hard is good?

kid with guns.

Okay, so the puzzle's updated. I need to find a better way of password protecting it, but it suffices right now. And it doesn't open up a new window, for some reason.

Six levels. Can you get to the end?

http://homepage.ntlworld.com/billytee/puzzle

my energy depleted...

So some of you might remember that devilishly difficult puzzle a while ago on deathball.net. Well I decided to make my own. I'll probably add a page a week or something to it right now, and there's some problems with password coding which I will need to fix, but it's perfectly workable. It follows roughly the same rules as notpron, but is of course different and with my own brand of stuff in it.

Any problems with any browsers please let me know. AFAIK it works fine with IE and Firefox, but it does have a tendency to open a new window after the password box. This is being fixed.

There's only three levels, but enjoy it while it lasts. You might find something cool if you play about with it enough, but it won't mean a huge amount to you until later in the puzzle, in a level I haven't made yet. You'll know you've hit the end when you get to the page that says 'end'. :)

So without further ado, my friends... the first few levels of my very own notpron homage. Passwords will never contain spaces and are all in lower case.

PAGE TITLE

I know I'm right.