Wednesday, November 29, 2006

There's no intercourse at this address

Got your attention now? I hope so. It's the only excitement round here at the moment, talking about it. Besides that it's business as usual, pays the bills and unfortunately little more, leaving me back at square one to spend my money and time alone. I just spent some time writing my Funtrivia blog once I found the script font that had eluded me for nearly 7 years, and now am a little used up as well as being tired from doing tiring things. But this little box has to be filled once opened, and each time I start with no ideas something presents itself. I just wrote about how women's interests tend to polemically oppose mine. Why the fucking hell do so many women get more orgasms going to a bloody crappy restaurant than any other occupation? I have and will never get it. Eating is fun but sex is better, and we need one to live and the other to enjoy life. They seem to have wires crossed (synasthaesia) and get what men get from sex not just from eating but in some crowded dark hole full of both stuck up and common wankers crammed into half a shop on Mill Hill Broadway or Finchley Road to wait indefinite periods for uncertain rewards. What a total waste of an evening. And then the bill! Having followed family members to supermarkets most of my life and see what it actually costs to cook a meal even the cheapest are ripping us off. I know what the food costs them and paying £20-40 for a meal they probably boiled in a bag in a microwave just as I do at home is not what you would choose. But having delivered a few of these things many restaurants (including most Indians) are shipped in every morning from a warehouse, and heated up to order. If one of these items takes half an hour to arrive it's not because they are preparing it, but they don't give a fuck.

How anyone can get addicted to these places is one of life's mysteries, like why people buy more lottery tickets when it's a rollover or duck when someone fires a bullet at the cinema. I never fell in that trap or most others and wonder at the level of most people's intelligences when they fall for every Nigerian scam and press hash 9 at the tone to empty your bank account to someone in Azerbaijan. If not they wouldn't try it. I tested these areas when I first encountered them in places like Exchange and Mart at around 10, couldn't spend a lot as I didn't have it, realised they were all fake and that was it. I wasn't particularly clever, just whoever falls for major cons like religion and global warming is no different except they are better presented by the media to appear convincing. Not to me. Radar works on intuition and that's why I'm a counsellor. The clues are large and presented in megawatts. And the answers, where they exist, are obvious. The training came not in the answers but the presentation so I am diplomatic and patient. The actual logic is logic, which is universal and can be applied to everything except religion. And remove religion and if God remained the only illogical part is the hiding element. Logically if you go to Tesco's for their latest offer of 9 loo rolls for the price of 6 you see a huge pile of them where everyone can see them. Now if they hid all the loo rolls so well even those with the greatest faith could sense them but not find them we'd all end up with extremely dirty underwear. You see where this is leaving. God is a crock. Strike me down and kill me if I'm wrong, then my absence will apply after waiting 46 years God finally answered my request the one time I didn't want it answered. OK, I'm becoming Jerry Seinfeld or Woody Allen here but logic is my lifeline. When all else goes the one thing I have left is my logic. It works on everything except God, (prepare for a surprise), even to women!!!

Yes, I paid £30 or so for a book which actually tells people how to understand women, and it's so simple it's amazing, but needed an expert's research for years to work it all out. How much should I charge for the answers? And no, you can't just go and ask a woman as unless they've read that book, they don't know either. They work on aa subconscious motivation, eg they say 'I like a man that makes me laugh' and genuinely believe it, but in fact when it happens they prefer a tall good looking bastard that beats them up. They are genetically deluded. Of course once they read the book and understand their own workings (just as in psychoanalysis) they realise and actualise it and are no longer controlled by it. So then they are free and will know their true motivations and lead rather than be followed by them. Not my fault, just how they're designed compared to men where you get what you see. Anyway, from nothing I just taught a few people some little known and discussed data which I may well use as a future article. There you go.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Left with nothing

The latest phase has been hard work followed by a return to nothing. However satisfying getting work out of the way is I can only return to the foundation I have, which is familiar to anyone but new readers. The tiny and low possibility chances of anything ahead include a confirmation the TV programme I did is indeed now going to become a series, which could then mean a chance of being shown now. The woman on the horizon may be single but also very unlikely, and then would need to also be interested in me for anything to happen. That's the lot really and like the wind I accurately said would only be 50 mph most future possibilities never happen or they'd be actual realities. I'd go as far as to say we won't get 80 mph winds in my lifetime though anyone who checks the stats could say the same thing. Besides that total vacuum the same goes for my diary. Besides one small arrangement I'm doing my best to avoid (it's like playing Defender if anyone remembers that) it'll be clearing up after the decorator finishes and all the usual routine.

I am also considering ordering a 3rd photo album as mine has errors and the good one is a birthday present for my mum. I'd offer the old one to the library, and I'll see what the second is like before I decide. The Post Office clearly did what I expected and lost my shirt. Having reached the sorting office on time and asked where the second item was I could do no more. I've paid for it, he's got the money and sent it and guess what I have. Minus £13. Good deal? Now I have to chase the post office and guarantee no insurance will cover it. Another reason not to buy online. The fact the item was both not available in most shops and 3 times the price made me attempt to buy it, but the rule goes (I've presented it before and it usually applies) if you have two or more items to be delivered in person (by ringing the doorbell) they'll come together and because they filled the form in wrong they insist there was only one.

I can't imagine I'll ever think of any new philosophy as I doubt there are any more corners to discover. I have one new theory that what if scientific rules, like every other, are not 100% correct? So gravity always working the same, matter always reacting the same ways etc, though told they are perfect systems, may not be. That would mean the tiny margins for error would explain all supernatural occurences as they represented the random exceptions to the laws of physics. My own example remains one to this day. I sat in a chair with a blanket cover, there was a pen in my notebook and it fell down. It landed where I was sitting and when I stood up it wasn't there. I looked everywhere else in the room just in case it had landed in my clothes and fallen down but no sign of it. Luckily it was old and almost knackered, but the question remains where did it go and how? I don't have either answer.

So, I'm tired, fairly bored and little or nothing to look forward to. Nothing new there really. All it takes is one break like the cancelled TV appearance and I'd be a lot better but it doesn't happen to anyone. One person agreed with me maybe the majority of couples aren't happy but appear to be. They settle for second or third best rather than be alone but I won't. So instead of look at other women and prefer them to mine I'll wait, probably forever, for one where I don't. My standards widen and theirs narrow, so whoever I chase is more and more selective with age. That's the few remaining single and carrying a selection of certifiable mental illnesses that put many men off except me. My needs are so simple many women should be relieved I require so little but they prefer a challenge. So I should invent a drug habit, criminal record and get some temporary tattoos and then I'll have covered all the attractions, for both classes of women, plus hit them periodically to keep them interested (I hear in many cases it works). Then I'd go to hell but I'd enjoy my life like the people who are like that. That's just dropping down to the lowest level to succeed and I have evolved beyond that and have to offer what I actually have whether it appeals to them or not. One woman over here showed an interest in me once but never followed it up though it was possible to come and see me if she really wanted to. I was up for it.

Anyway, the gym calls and the women there are perfect examples of what I describe, either taken or hard as nails. I can't give up but it makes you feel like it.

Saturday, November 25, 2006

Wind and invertebrates

Wow, I've done a hell of a lot this week. Besides the endless work due to a computer fault I got a set of photos taken and used a second free £10 Staples voucher, which, as they say, was nice. Sod all in the big picture though I did see the programme I did a bit for that was dumped off TV now says it's a full series. No one told me so I emailed the company to see if the pilot was already accepted for the whole thing. I can't somehow see them showing a full series on fucking 1 inch screens on mobiles. If so it would have to be the total biggest waste of effort and money as not a soul will even know it's on (no public schedules, unless you know different) even if they knew why on earth would they waste their time watching it. I remember trying to watch snooker on my mini TV which is a few times bigger and being almost impossible, and with Wimbledon you can't see the ball. It's a waste of technology, one where they are finally putting a product out that can't work, like the Hutchison Rabbit which was doomed from conception, a mobile phone that only calls outwards and from small areas near an antenna. Mobile TV will be the rabbit of the 2000s, I said it here just as I said global warming=an excuse for high taxes, and now they have been announced. Too bloody obvious and predictable and 90% of the public swallow it like hypnotised zombies. Where are people's brains?

This week's good news is Christine has replied, and all the hiccups were technical and not personal. Sorted out one crisis of faith at least. I hadn't believed in God but I always believed in her, and now I still do. I'd have hated my judgement to be so off that I couldn't trust many people any more. Otherwise a lot of painting has been done since the decorator arrived on Wednesday, first time in 11 years and that's only when I moved in, I doubt the last slobs bothered at all. And it's someone I know so we already got on before he arrived. I often make friends with our workmen though, especially the relatively recent carpet Bob who I supply with 1950s and 60s music on demand. I now have literally no plans and as I didn't a few weeks ago but managed hopefully I will continue to. But major issues have stopped and the funny weather forecast for high winds tonight is yet another precaution since the near-hurricane was missed in 1987. That was my weather highlight for life and many people probably never experienced it in theirs in Britain. High winds are not a local feature and the one time we really had them only a viewer called the TV to predict them and they made a joke about it. 19 years later and most years they predict strong winds and they just don't happen. 40-50mph is a joke and only serious if at sea, you need at least 80-90mph over land to really notice it and that is not about to happen. Like the other predictions, you read it here.
Tomorrow morning Britain will wake up to the same place as the day before, whatever the over cautious forecasters were told to say. I am now heading to see if I've beaten my quiz rating and if not will I for tomorrow. I also wrote a quiz on diatoms which I'm waiting for approval on. And if Funtrivia's latest member I recruited is reading, I know you're busy studying but if you get the chance keep popping back, you really add some good stuff.

No sex for me tonight (repeat for last 900 days...)

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Diatoms and tardigrades

It's becoming impossible to report more than mundane details as I've been working most of the last couple of days and then watching TV. Hardly something to maintain a blog from. And philosophy is only about observing patterns and accurate data but only of practical use if needed to avoid a particular situation. If your life's shit understanding why won't make you happy and if it's good you'll never need to understand it but like a child can still be very happy. So philosophy is an academic exercise and very little benefit in making you happy. Besides the understanding of what sort of place the world is, the best part is adding to it in a positive way. I just gave someone a copy of my little book on counselling written 11 years ago now, and any published work is a legacy for the future. Same goes for any permanent record and I'm certainly one for creating as many as I can as I see others around me producing their best work and don't want to waste anything I can possibly produce. Like John Lennon you can get stopped suddenly at any time so must produce as if you didn't have a tomorrow, just in case.

I rarely dare to look ahead any more and the last few weeks have proved the little events couldn't have been guessed in advance and could only be dealt with immediately, needing no preparation. One by one I deal with them for more to arrive in turn. This week has been surprisingly tolerable as it goes, tomorrow is a lot quieter in advance and unless another bombshell hits the area I may get a bit of a rest for a change. Well I'm off to write a quiz on diatoms as the tardigrades was a duplicate of someone else's which didn't come up when I searched. And then one on daphnia. As I said, keep producing, until I remembered them hardly anyone I knew had heard of tardigrades but now I've spread their name far and wide they can never be forgotten, with my helping hand. My anorak is in the process of being upgraded.

Half a blog entry

Such an exciting day, my neighbour's computer wiped his accounts so all I did besides a trip to grandma was replace them, which used the rest of my time but someone had to do it. Otherwise life goes on, it sometimes becomes a challenge to write about anything as I reckon most better writers have to present mundane material in a way to make it interesting as most of real life is deadly dull. TV programmes compress the interesting bits but as blogs are real time and not scripted you'll just have to live with my everyday reality. I am finally considering adsense, as I see blogging decline I may as well capitalise before they move on to another craze. If it makes the blog look awful I may reconsider but would probably get a 12 month contract or else. Not that I've ever seen a blog using it so it's probably almost impossible to get them to use anyone.

So with the option to do something else, the fact there was no anything else it was write something here. The tardigrade quiz turned out to have one there already, not raised by the search, but I learnt about them and got 8/10. Diatoms next if no one has done a quiz on them as well. But my creative well can never run dry. I still have all the 44 years saved up from before the blog and will always draw on untapped ideas when the time is right. Most people would be in bed with their wives now but as I have no humans here this is my second choice to sex. I doubt it's just me on that particular situation either. But as it's getting late (no accounts left though as I just kept on till they were done today) I won't try and push myself, I've been at this screen for 6 hours for work so can live without another session for play. So just today you're getting away with the abbreviated version, and may appreciate the long ones more.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Today's challenge

The challenge for today. The TV free hour can only be filled by blogging and there’s nothing to blog. That puts most people off and though the main reason is most people are too busy living to write about it the other is they wait till there’s something to report. In my life that happens when they deliver the wrong pizza. Besides having a genuine hardback book of my photos the everyday nonsense continues, I go to the gym, I take more photos, I make boring phone calls, and return every time to the safety of the internet. It could be worse, it could be alcohol. This is an addiction that teaches me stuff and may make my career. And introduces me to people. And even the philosophy is drying up. It helps other people who are relative beginners but the sort of problems I’m faced with would probably drive some people to suicide so in my case it’s like complaining because I can’t pull a car fast enough when most people couldn’t pull one at all. But it doesn’t help. All the stupid trivial mixups that capture Mr and Mrs average are jokes in comparison with premiership problems.

I exaggerate not though I prefer to go into details only verbally rather than spread it all over the world here, but you know the basics if you’ve read a post or two here. The ways I learnt not to be distracted by competition with other people and irrelevant problems on the road to success mainly applied to career, which is already solved for me, and the relationship tips I know only help if you have one. I suspect solutions don’t exist for the collection I have besides time and chance. You have to reach a point where you give up trying as you haven’t got a plan to follow. Like all the best saints I have had to live a day at a time and ignore what may be lurking ahead unless it really comes. You can’t prepare for much however similar you visualise anything, the real events are unique to the moment and can’t be softened by any form of practice in advance. So, the future isn’t anything, though of course that is the truth for everyone. So the past had what I described, the present is here and there is no future as we can never reach it. It’s just many people have a guess at what’s ahead in the way of plans and ambitions. For the moment mine are used up. No more pictures need painting, women chasing or work applied for. Besides a second TV appearance on a channel that gets 4 figure views in the UK months ahead that’s it.
And to answer the comment in the past post here I don’t just write this. I write articles and anything else I can think of, have written one book and intend to get something written from this once I can find a way to copy and paste it (Blogger configuration blocks the usual methods).

So, the short day (catching up on sleep) yielded TV, online quizzes, one trip to the gym and return. I have made a small dent in the list of essential phone calls but some way to go. Technically so far the week ahead appears free compared to the last few which is well due. There are enough things to do in the house to stop me getting bored with the spare time, and it’s satisfying when I get them out of the way. But it would be nice if there was more than that but I very much doubt there will be…

Saturday, November 18, 2006

Ordered chaos

It's been organised chaos all week. Chaos came and I organised it, quite well actually. I just found since my occasional employer's computer was rebooted all the data I entered for the last year (and more but I don't need it) has gone. It happened once so I now print it but it all needs typing in again. Saving to CD in future as these bloody things are totally unreliable stored on a computer.
So having spent time last Friday looking for interesting features on a map I got two trips to get photos of them, spoilt only by a security guard (who at least was pretending to do his job) and a bunch of people in his office slagging me off for taking photos through what they considered was their door which happened to be unlocked. The nastiness of some people is brought out at the sight of any potential victim and just shows the inbuilt evil they project onto innocent people doing nothing they should be concerned about. It probably happens less than once a year when I take photos and just shows what disgusting minds a few people have that infer the nastiest deeds and motives into someone taking photos of buildings. If I'd been a crook I would have used a long lens and hidden, the fucking idiots. If I find the firm which occupies this block I'll post it here with their email address and invite everyone to let them know they're employing a bunch of total wankers. I actually hope they all get accosted by a real crook so they can really tell the difference after that. What total morons...

I hear my album has been posted already. So they'll either wake me up tomorrow or worse still deliver it on Monday when I won't be here. Please tomorrow, I can survive that. My shirt however was ordered about Monday and has made no appearance. Sometimes two or even three parcels all arrive on the same day whenever ordered and I wonder if they save them till it's worth delivering a reasonable number. Nothing would surprise me.
Yes, some people can be so bloody crass even I get wound up about it, basically as soon as it affects me. I know morons are everywhere, but when a herd of cretins shout at me through a third floor window like they think I'll hang around to join in, or people deliberately make innocent residents go to the post office early in the day to collect something because they were in a hurry I can crack. I got dressed and went out specially to catch whatever wasn't delivered on Tuesday and it was more or less junk mail. I didn't want it and left it there. I suspect they have my shirt but didn't make a note of it as the card they posted me said a letter and a packet. That'll return to sender in a couple of weeks and I'll probably never see it.
But overall despite the flies in the ointment it's been a successful week. I had jobs to do and besides the accounts did them. I just wrote my 9th quiz on Funtrivia (if you don't know it I have the link on my list) and for a reason I'll never know remembered tardigrades this week after not seeing them on TV for about 25 years on the Open University. If you want to know more login and do my quiz, otherwise I'd be telling you all the answers. And as well as me they actually have loads of fans and many dedicated sites.

Anyone suggesting my sanity is in question is probably right.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Nothing to write today

What an odd week. Not bad, just odd. Half my plans were dropped or delayed but one way or another the alternatives were OK. The main thing is I ordered a photo album with my 57 best digital pictures, and you can pick from small to whole page size. Something to leave the grandchildren I won't have. I'm nearly my grandma's age when I was born for god's sake. Never mind, out of my control. So, besides the photos including a quick trip to Hendon Park now I'm using the map for new geographical features I'm here and typing as usual. Reporting very little is a challenge, I've been on work standby for a few days but due to a computer crash there no dice till tomorrow now, not that there's much to do there but it stopped me going anywhere if I was, besides the photos which I got in first yesterday.

It's a bit like I've been commissioned for a regular article and have writer's block, though something of a surprising nature normally comes out simply by talking, just as Freud usually worked. I've spent my ammunition of filthy words for now, and admit I got some from slang dictionaries so I could know as many words for droppings of various sorts. The trouble with that is you can use words no one else realises what they mean. Excoriae, frass, glaur, you get the picture. And being equipped with the internet to read this you can look them up later. My previous method for getting out of vacuums was the past. I've mentioned every personality pre-1972 and used up that vein, plus stories of incontinence from schooldays which everyone who has met me from 1965 onwards would have heard at least twice. The first is still the best. Tony.

Kingsbury, 1964, portakabin classroom. Yellow walls. The teacher said 'Tony, are you OK?'. Yes, came the answer. 'What's that on the wall?'. 'Nothing'. On closer inspection large brown circles were revealed on the wall. Dirty protest style smears of brown on the yellow wall. Turns out he'd shit in his pants and taken it out and wiped it on the wall hoping no one would notice. How the teacher spotted it from the front can only be down to experience but from where I was sitting it was literally as clear as mud. Sort of mud anyway. Then a couple of years later, and nearly as funny at the time. New school, all sat round large tables. Teacher 'Alan, what's that?'. 'What?'. 'On the floor by your chair. There's something on the floor, what is it?' It was white and fluffy. Then some more fell down. It was coming from his pockets. Little grey school shorts were far more full than usual. There was a fall of mashed potato coming from his pockets, ball after ball of a snowy avalanche was now being ejected from his pocket as he stood up. It turned out he didn't like the stuff so rather than leave it (we often got told to finish everything back then) he thought he'd hide it in his pockets but hadn't counted on it trying to escape.

So I managed to trawl the past for at least two new stories to the internet. South Park would probably pay me for such stories but it just goes to show real life is both funnier and stranger than anything on TV. Where do you think they get their ideas from?

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Maybe I should check in now...

It all seems connected. This week had diary entries. Quite a lot. Three from the first four have gone west. Two delayed and one may have gone altogether. The paying one of course. So from a day of busy shit I have a day of quiet shit but still have the busy shit tomorrow so am hardly better off. Dark and raining anyway outside so unlikely to go there, and really dull stuff at home as far as I know. But it proves none is in our control, even if I'd planned my own coronation today something could have screwed it up, like King Edward VII's appendicitis did for his. And like its opposite, coincidence, chaos has no winners or losers, it just moves things around infinitely without any benefit or loss overall, just means we can't depend on anything, even our own life.

The only beneficiary has been the blog which would have probably had to wait till tomorrow especially as I have to go to bed earlier after getting up an hour later than before. What that means for the bigger picture one can only imagine. Booker prize maybe, or another step closer to the institution, but most likely bugger all. So I describe instead of a boring and routine day of work which gets no report beyond having done it, I am sitting listening to the radio and wondering what the hell to do otherwise. Because I haven't missed any jobs (all saved for later) it's no benefit or pleasure in it, just the same really as when something good had been cancelled and you had no alternatives. But so normal it's incredible. No point in any expectations as until it happens you really never know. Plus a parcel was supposed to be delivered at 10am this morning. Of course waking me up yet again to answer the door would have had some more effect on my health but these bastards close early and make it very difficult to either visit or call to get another delivery when they'll probably say I'm not there again. Nothing in itself but all adds to the banal monotony of failure in each step of time, where whatever can fuck up frequently does and never in ways you can predict.

In fact though the overall picture is so predictable it would drive some to escape, the details of what goes tits up and when is totally random. Apparently. But again if you look at my diary I had 4 bookings and the first 3 all went west. That in itself is pretty unusual. Coincidence within chaos. But why? And how? The odds on that are pretty long if you look at it, and I really have absolutely no plans and ambitions for the rest of my life now besides going to Hendon and Golders Green to take some more pictures of railway lines. The institution beckons...

Sunday, November 12, 2006

The devil makes cliches for idle minds

I really shouldn’t be doing this. It is OK to leave gaps in my writing rather than do it regularly regardless but there’s nothing else to do. If it was a business I’d just have spent a fortune on marketing as the numbers are not good and I need some advice on content. I have considered turning it purely into a themed blog based on rude words and bodily functions. I reckon the numbers would drop even more but I’d get a few cult followers. The trouble is it’s a very limited area and how many ways can you rearrange poo pee and farts before you repeat the whole thing altogether? I have probably tried and done it without even realising it already. I have discovered that after many years they found snowflakes that were the same, but is every fart different in sound? All similar but could two be exactly the same? That’s one area of exploration- and makes them all the more interesting as each one is a new musical experience. Yes, when all else fails this is where my minds rests. Possibly explaining my lack of friends and partner but then again Beavis and Butthead made millions. Maybe if I want retarded teenagers as friends I could have hundreds, but not anyone with a brain.

I am in the anticlimax zone between work and more work, where all has been done and you find yourself with absolutely nothing. Today was spent watching football on TV, internet and the gym. OK, I think Sundays are allowed to be like this but my guess is tomorrow will be little different and don’t really care either way. Without friends or a girlfriend I will be bound to run out of activities eventually and this has happened till my next photo trips when I get the chance. Back to toilets for a minute, do rude words sound funny because of the meaning or would they be funny anyway? The sort of questions Goethe and Spinoza (whoever he was) didn’t spend years pondering. Turd, faeces, anus, rectum, they all sound like the sort of words clowns use. Faeces the clown and his dog rectum. There are probably at least one pair without me even realising it. That or I need to be put away, I can’t tell. Spike Milligan did OK with such observations so something tells me good old British public school humour is alive and well. Now technically I didn’t go to public school as mine was prep school, and I left instead of graduating to public school when I was 12 as I hated it. I would have gone there and even if I left after a day I’d still be a public school pupil, but somehow I may have just missed the boat. Big deal. I never went to university either. Only about a third of degrees were from universities when I did mine, and I went to a polytechnic and an institute of higher education. Technically all were identical so all are now thank goodness recognised as universities, but not when I was there. But I’d rather do well at a poly than scrape through a dodgy subject at the university of Barra. You have to look through the packaging to look at the product underneath.

Ahead I see the usual nothing. I can’t even imagine any good possible stuff as it’s so far from my current reality I have had to forget it all. Socially I am as isolated as if I’d arrived in London from the third world and didn’t know anyone and speak a word of English. Besides family I have a few hangers on (through their choice) and that’s it. The cat has more friends than me now. She sits outside with the black cat opposite, who likes sitting with all the local cats, and the awful stray tabby who eats all her food and pisses everywhere. Becoming a recluse is only ever partly through choice and usually through circumstances which don’t change. So as long as I’m producing something I’m reasonably happy, and anything more is a bonus. I see the great comedians who either produced all their lifetimes or were cut down suddenly younger than me and have determined to produce all the rest of my life so nothing is wasted. If I ever got a penny more for what I produce again it would help and eventually allow me to drop most other forms of income as that pays the best and is more fun. It’s certainly possible, I can keep learning and improving and eventually find an employer. I’m looking at ways to frame and sell photos now and am speaking to a printer to try and get a sample lot done, and then like my book will need to try every gallery on earth to try and get them displayed. One way to get me out of the house anyway. Well I think I’ve covered everything before I start rambling properly, I’ll stop before it’s too late.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Cricklewood on a Saturday

Talk about busy! What a week! But I rose to any occasion and whatever I did was done properly, for a change. I needn't look back, just be pleased I've done it. 217 photos arrived today and of course weren't a surprise as I'd already seen them on the screen, but need to have nonetheless. One oddity was when I sent someone an email yesterday she also got her own returned on a blank form so despite doing nothing myself proves it can happen by accident. Weird. So there's a tiny chance Christine's little faux pas was no more than a button press than an intentional act of war. My arse in reality but at least I've seen it happen and at a very coincidental time.

I've cleared all my work for a week, plenty next week but so far nearly all totally routine, and the sort of business I do need. I also discovered my little course on post traumatic stress disorder comes with its own certificate. It's one element of an 8 part diploma and didn't realise you got each certificate per subject which is a nice bonus. 6000 words is a pretty reasonable assignement so worth a nice piece of paper. Now for the pleasure side. Getting stuff out of the way in itself provides some pleasure, but indirectly and pretty temporary. But the rest of it remains to be seen. I got the TV schedule indirectly from the last 2 series of Mystery Hunters. It's a 26 part series, starting in January with 5 shows a week so mine will be randomly assigned on any date within 5 weeks but of course I will be told which in advance which is about a month ahead and the emails will fly around again. The last 2 times hardly anyone had Sky (as I always expected few people besides the lonely and addicted waste money on more channels of mainly crap) and only about 6 people actually saw it altogether I knew. So the same ones can see it the next time and I think I'll get maybe 10 minutes for my scene as opposed to 3 in the last. It all helps.

Now for the two remaining women on my system. One has missed the hints as she wondered if I'd met anyone yet (yes, her...) so next time it won't be a hint, it'll be a metaphorical hand on the tit. The other is still around and the only question is 'friend or more?'. Only she will be able to tell me that. Nothing more I can do on them and if anyone else comes along it'll save me all the trouble waiting for them, like that would ever happen. The internet has been relatively dead recently, few new blog entries though the Flickr sites are buzzing. I would have taken more pictures today but had an appointment. I'm now on places I've never seen but have bridges and railway lines which always make good shots. And I see so many local corners I didn't know existed until I went to take a picture there. Going abroad has its points but after you've done it a number of times just look around closer and you'll see a lot you didn't know was there. Even Cricklewood has its moments and I found that was a surprise.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Rubber emails

Another day another something or other. No idea what. So when I get a break I come here. Glad to see there are other people around content to stay at home a lot though. I used to get so bored staying in I see it as a positive that especially if not alone I'm quite happy to stay in and around the house. Holidays end up being repeats of tours, shops, beaches and sign language, with possible breaks for diarrhea. Big deal. See a sample of the world, satisfy yourself half of it is worse than where you are already and leave them to themselves. Nothing to see here. Especially the Parisian toilets.
So while I remain at home what happens? The cleaner clears the remains of two weeks of living, like the vultures clear a dead body of flesh, only mine grows back every fortnight. The cat is here with me on my lap, the radio on the internet and a few hours before I go to bed I suppose. There really aren't any issues on the go at the moment, but most shit is swept up by time passing and a little effort so it's not too bad now. There is always a sense of achievement getting unpleasant work done. I become more and more sensitive as the years pass so more and more bothers me which didn't used to. Hopefully this will fluctuate as tolerance levels do change over time and as last year pushed mine to the limits I can lose my reactions again as they have subsided. Meanwhile I go through the routines we all have to occupy us, and what more can anyone do? I suppose the explorers like to go out and explore as I once did, and probably because in the 70s it didn't cost me anything I could travel across Europe and beyond with no need to do a thing for it. Many people didn't so once they have the means to do it themselves start late. I started early and after being stranded in many holes in far flung places had quite enough of it in the end. Day trips are fine, but weeks are hit and miss, relying on the right people and hotels and if you get a good one the country is irrelevant as you stay there and sit by the pool all day.

Well, I'm not often lost for words though do run out of websites to visit sometimes. I really wonder if anyone on earth has had the gall to copy and paste someone's email and send it back to them as a reply or I'm the first person to receive such a pointless and immature act. Let me know if you've heard of it.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Why do I always get the piece with the hair in it?

Unable to resist the urge to write despite the total lack of material, I carry on. The first thing I thought of was how my family has the best names for farts I’ve come across. The top 3 are “Have you done a windy”, “Have you made a smell” and the simple but direct “Have you done something?” Everyone knows exactly what they mean. I imagine in the Peruvian jungle someone says in Inca the exact equivalent of “Have you done something” while most of the men sheepishly point at the monkeys hoping no one will believe them.
Following the little gaseous diversion, what else can I tell both of you (if I’m lucky) nowadays about life in and around Kingsbury? Sod all really. If it can go right on the pleasure front it goes wrong. For a hell of a long time. The email replies are unnecessarily absent from people who actually liked me once. My arse. I look for more continuously, and having found it mainly lies with the company of other people have turned up blanks for ages. I’m not sure if my attitude of enjoying someone’s company without the need for elaborate arrangements has put anyone off, the fact I moan about being single, or the simple fact that being so makes me stand out like a leper in a Mexican wave (think about it). So all but the pains in the arse avoid me, those who the rest of London have dodged and I didn’t manage to, so am left with their assumption I’m their best friend having not told them to piss off when they called me like everyone else apparently did.

So the apparently endless routine carries on with such minor variations they don’t stick in the memory for long. Did I go to the local grocer’s or the supermarket? Besides my photos and my painting there’s little else to liven things up, and that’s about it. Does everything good either take ages to happen or not even exist? Or start when you’re a child and then go away? Don’t ask me, I only know how it has been for me. And when I expect more and get less then I have to ask myself whether I expect too much and don’t put enough in? I doubt it. It’s all about knowing the tricks and short cuts, effort is little or nothing to do with it. I expect I put in as much effort as most people, you don’t get as many qualifications as I have by slacking, and since then besides losing the only jobs I got I didn’t need to kill myself for exam deadlines any more or anything else like too many other idiots seem to do. Why should life need to be an effort to achieve anything? Does everyone with the best things mean they worked the hardest? I doubt it. Like the bad people getting just as much if not more than the good really. I am judging myself to get in before others.

Otherwise I can judge what’s right in front of me. Same as usual. And on weekends I start by looking at the past week and then trying to avoid looking at the next. At least the busy week has been done, and next seems relatively quiet though not totally. Having embarrassed myself with the second and possibly last mutual woman of my life but nothing took place as I got sidetracked, what will the next fiasco be? Letting a follow through go during a session? Having a woman see what I wrote about her here without knowing she could find it? I haven’t even got any plans that can be fucked up at the moment, but things always can anyway. This is the year where the only thing I had keeping me same was the promise I’d be on TV. That was a lie and I ended up with the empty desert of what there is. As I say, do I expect too much or do I deserve everything I don’t get? One mystery after another.

Saturday, November 04, 2006

Back again, again

I'll be honest, besides being tied to the computer with web radio I may not have dared blog today for lack of new material. Has this ever stopped me before? No. So I continue. Nothing on the system besides the next Friends site reply, nice at least someone not only wanted to but did remember me. I sent one to someone else I knew who was because I started finding some people on my own schools didn't register themselves there but did elsewhere and a number popped up that way, though why they leave one out I don't know. One just had their primary school.
So nothing has come from that. The woman from the past will remain in the past, talk about closure, this is like hermetic sealing. Bugger. Otherwise life goes on as everyday and my major jobs get done one by one very slowly to conserve energy. Like any lottery if you buy enough tickets you should win eventually. People are not guaranteed to win even if you try everyone on earth. If one person from the past or new from the net became a friend/partner it would fill the main gap at the moment. Many online would do if they lived around here but people from the past presumably intended to be there or they would still be around. So what put my second possible love off? I'd say either: 1) She's got a new bloke (98%) 2) She hated my current photo (1%) and 3) She will never forgive me (1%). All are terminal, I think the worst would be if she didn't like my photo. Mind you, statistically she's broken up with one bloke already, if she does again she may remember me suddenly. How many times can you miss someone before you finally get it together? Eroded cervixes are really not my thing, besides other wrinkly phenomena so I'd really like this one before the menopause if it isn't already too late for that.

On a quick diversion, my number plate magazine just printed every banned UK number plate. It was like a kid's toilet wall. Now how many club journals would print rude words from A to Z for technical reasons beats me but this could be a second (the first would be the old UK format I presume with far fewer variations and all blindingly obvious and well known). Having 5 letters now the mind truly boggles. WA 01 NKS springs to mind as a pretty typical example for those also affiliated with Beavis and Butthead.
No plans at the moment besides work bookings (boring...). Photos all taken for now though if I get up early enough I can probably drag a few more ideas out. More solitary pursuits as usual. And why do all the best potential projects and decisions regarding people always fail? From my friend leaving the country for at least 7 years to the twice rejected woman being apparently free and now not interested is the main reason my tone is so bitter and twisted. Why can't just one person be interested in me the same time I am in them? No luck in the gym, I have tried a few but most were taken or probably taken and the others either too old or simply not interested. It's 4 years this week and unless someone new arrives who actually speaks to other people (only the men talk and then only after a couple of years) it won't provide me with anyone despite some real crackers. The one set up for me looked like a Lord of the Rings reject and spent the whole evening criticising me after describing every previous boyfriend and how badly they treated her. I can well understand why. OK, if I did the paper bag over her face theory I would have but not a lot more.

This week was successful as far as my tasks but little more. Predictable besides a couple of alterations of time or cancellations but no surprises besides one email reply. First frost tonight so huge gas bills ahead. Can this pattern last for life? God forbid.

Friday, November 03, 2006

See the light guys, it's here somewhere

I'm not going to write about recent events much now, but let myself run free. There is a lot in my mind and if it comes out as if tripping (something I've never done and never will) maybe it will be readable. No plans besides that. I can't eff and blind on my public sites but we can here so whatever arrives will be written.
Firstly I am at a total loss to understand how women can be so totally against my own interests where sex and marriage require two consenting people to be mutually satisfied. Every woman I've met for 30 years or so has not been mutually anything. My interests conflict with theirs every time. If I move they move away and vice versa. Even when we move together another force intervenes before anything happens. If I was in analysis now this would be what would come out. One thought following another with no requirement for structure or sense.
Life is like that anyway so why shouldn't writing follow it? Mine is so fucking chaotic I'm currently involved in potentially the world record longest courtship and ready to propose to a woman I haven't seen for 32 years if she'd actually reply to my email. I know exactly what works now having thought of little else since I was 10 and they always disagree with my opinion. Besides killing someone, getting myself all over the tabloids and then marrying one of the sick bitches who befriend convicted murderers I'll be alone for life and have no children even if I offered to pay someone to have one.

Cynical? Who wouldn't be? People are the hardest items on earth to arrange, you can train a dog easily, a cat with difficulty and a person not at all unless they're your own child. And as I just said that may never happen every person in my life is totally out of my control. Not that I'd want to that much, but just a little. Grandma would like to control every person the way a child arranges their toy soldiers but I'd just blow a few old friends back in the area plus one partner and that would be enough. No chance Jose. I have done the equivalent by email of the old phone trick where I call every woman I know in case they want to see me and am sitting at home alone with no date. The last one was not a failure though I was ill at the time and she was literally untouchable but that is part of the longest courtship and I don't know if I even want to keep her if I get her. And I've had precious little chance to find out.

Otherwise I am just carrying on as per normal. No plans any more, plans haven't worked since I finished my last course in about 2001 but nothing else in life is as organised as education. Getting a job is a fiasco which I gave up a couple of years ago (looking, not having one), and I've lost little as a result. Quality should be more important and I have used the time to do whatever I do a lot better like practising an instrument. Even my quiz scores have improved by about 50% as I do so many each day I learn piles of new information. And (kayn ayn nehorreh) a couple of people I know have said how clever I am. At last. People are beginning to notice. Now when I organise concepts few others even with the diplomas can't manage to do I know I must be onto something. I can't do everything, just my own field. But spotting and understanding patterns is something few people seem to be able to do. You get geniuses in one or two specialised areas but few with the wide view. I'm not actually a genius as whatever the required IQ I had one test and however close I got you don't get a second chance like an exam. I couldn't care less, no one in history I have ever come across has put 'genius' on their CV. Or even mentioned it. But I can't as I'm not. But today I met one of the group of potential geniuses by results. He, like the rest of our group, knows things without prior study. I mean the sort of things huge companies pay you to do while their PhDs can't getclose to solving clever. I know a few of these guys, some in science and I seem to be able to in philosophy.
No effort involved, we just know things and then can't get our view across as we haven't got the data to prove it. But we know it's right and if anyone does study it properly usually proves it.

I could get arrested for some of the things I know. I can say certain rules are designed not because they stop bad behaviour but power. The people who make them do not avoid it themselves, they stop others doing it, whatever it it may be. Look at all the laws made by communists or fascists or religions where the rulemakers do exactly what they kill others for doing. They know why and they have no doubt what they are doing but have the power to do so. Hypocrisy at the highest level. Masons and many other secret societies are only secret because they try and find ways to break the law in private as they know what I do one way or another. They include many powerful people who protect each other if they ever get caught to try and wriggle out of any consequences. Again I can't name names or anything more than say if you read David Icke you'll get a rough idea as he does little else but check these guys out. He misses some of the points as he focuses on the real bastards. I include those who do nothing wrong besides breaking taboos. But look behind most taboos and you find vested interests. Don't mention something because it will let something out, not because it'll hurt someone. Trust me. Most things are taboo because they're true. Black people in Britain commit more crime. Taboo. Say it and get punished more than the black people who mugged someone and just got community service. That's one I'm prepared to mention as a pretty good example of mind control. It's not wrong, it's not racist, it's the truth, but god forbid anyone on this hellhole of an island should say it and the whole fucking sky comes down on them. People in power hate the masses to know the truth. Global warming. The shit I saw comeing ten years ago just hit the fan. They will tax us like Harold Wilson in his dreams because of avoiding carbon dioxide emissions.

The devil himself couldn't have created a better formula.

1) Carbon dioxide is a natural product which fluctuates throughout history

2) The results of increases aren't known

3) Ours has not increased much yet and can't be assessed unless it does

4) There's no known connection between our activity, CO2 emissions and any form of climate change

5) Taxing people won't stop CO2 emissions, it'll just fuck up the country till we're like Albania

But they are doing it, and why? Because hardly anyone with a brain dares to challenge them. So I have to. Get the point?

Thursday, November 02, 2006

London revisited

Yes, I've got no one to talk to and also missed a rare guest on parallel universes on the radio for an hour. So I'm back here after what I would call a day off. Days off feel twice as important when you're meant to be working, and as I was (twice) and didn't I noticed the difference in contrast. I fixed my other blog by downloading Firefox so at least I can do something again, and when I tried IE7 it refused to install it. But I'll carry on as I am and see if anything new happens. One day I'll overlap so much imagination with my blog here as by wishing for things to happen it could feel like it had really happened even though it hadn't. It's a recognised part of magic, not original. It's supposed to attact it in but in my experience if you're waiting for anything it's only when you forget about it it stands a chance of happening.

So I emailed the Spaniard again (last time) yesterday and as with all 5 women heard sod all. A pattern has formed like a crop circle here, I do the work and get nothing in return. And the fact you want something more always seems to stop it happening as well. I have sussed the resistance formula as resisting feelings causes tension which holds them. That is physics not metaphysics and makes sense. It says in a book if your muscles are relaxed nothing can bother you. I see that as an exagerration, I recognise you can reach points where little can but not sure why. If I could find a way to extend them until they become normal the Indians would call me a saint (they value more useful qualities than the Christians), and as I know such states do exist it's something to try for. I detailed this week's two latest coincidences, and though there is no use of any of them they keep happening.
Possibly by being forced to talk (inwardly) to myself I can work out one by one each area of life until I may have more than most. And unlike some academics they are not theories that I like, they are discoveries of what is already there. They work for people. They rarely help me but save me getting my ideas wrong of what works and what doesn't, but I keep finding new traps each one I kill. Endless?

Meanwhile I saw a picture of a 4 bedroom house in Golders Green which I will visit outside sometime and see if the run down road is as bad as I expect or actually habitable, as I'm sure the house itself is fine. My best friend left the area in 2002, not for round the corner but Florida, and that was the last connection I had with it. So only by living there myself could I solve that gap. Jews return to Israel, London Jews return to Golders Green. It's like coming home after living abroad for 14 years. Of course over a lifetime I've had bad experiences there as well but it's like my family in extended version. I used to see the rough parts (some still are, but far enough west to avoid) but now see the people, memories and nice bits that separate it from similar suburbs like Kenton, Wembley or Finchley. They are typical but dead. They may as well be abroad for all I care about them, and besides Church End most of Finchley Central is a dump. Wembley and Kenton are bland and featureless. The relatively newly discovered Preston Road, the only main shopping centre nowhere near a town, is the best bit, but after years of visits has lost its charm somewhat. Londoners will know exactly what I mean, but others can get a view of it (which they can then do image searches for) and see exactly what I mean. And many of the photos are mine, though Flickr images are somehow excluded from search engines. Except Flickr of course.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Rambling on

It's odd how if you're meant to be working and sneak off everything you do seems far more interesting. My first appointment cancelled today only really leaving me to do another job but I went to the park on a sunny day, a part I'd never even seen until I saw an entrance on a map, and got some more pictures, which means I can get them included in the prints I'll be ordering later. I filled the day quite happily with little jobs mainly online and sod the work, it isn't even paid a lot and not worth the time and effort involved.
Otherwise it's only half a day since my last report, and my Funtrivia blog seems dead while the other faulty ones are reviving. I have to send that email today, nothing will help and I doubt if I send it now or next week it'll make any difference. Non events every time. And whatever I expect that's any good tends to be a non event, like a stillbirth however different anyone having suffered from that may think it is. If you add every disappointment in our lives together, they are all the same. Only a matter of degree but the effect is the same. And this particular disappointment is one I shouldn't have to be making a writing exercise out of. Out of every possible pleasure situation this could be the second most potential result had it gone to plan.

But no, any offer that has been made to me was a limited time offer. Mine ran out when I didn't take it up around 1984, and having been married and divorced she is clearly uninterested in following up any more aggravation even though I would not provide any more than wanting her to travel to London sometimes. Permanently. Instead I have the immovable and untouchable object located closer but harder to reach and to park if I did. St Pancras is one of those areas Heironymous Bosch must have drawn upon for inspiration of his visions of hell. People can get used to anywhere but even if I'd lived there all my early life I'd have done all I could to get away. If someone visits Hampstead or Highgate after languishing in Hackney or Camden Town why would they ever want to stay there if they could afford not to? All the people round Stamford Hill moved to Golders Green and beyond as soon as they had the chance, but some people in shit areas choose to stay there. Beats me. But when I want to go out with one of them I am more and more inclined to avoid such areas as it almost feels like I'll catch something.

One day I'll probably be able to afford such a move myself, not to suburbia as I have always been there, but to middle class suburbia. I want to return to Hampstead Garden Suburb but the prices have risen so much I would only get somewhere smaller than this, and just saw a house in Golders Green with 4 bedrooms for a good deal less. It would be like moving to Israel. And the shopping- imagine all that within walking distance? Civilised (though insular) neighbours, and I could ride my bike to Temple Fortune, Central Square and beyond which I certainly can't now. Worth considering, the extra bedroom would be really useful. All fantasy for now but after buying many houses forward planning stops mistakes. If I could bear the pestering I'd spend the winter looking inside all the houses so I knew even though I'm not yet buying but I'd be called all day every day by agents and will just wait till it happens if it does.
I think I've run out...

Missing the target

OK, I'm desperate to post on my Funtrivia blog and as it's been well and truly fercuckt for a few days now I'm here again instead. Haircut succeeded late but certain. I may be free tomorrow so I'm not in bed like a good boy but as they have ghost stories on the radio I wouldn't be sleeping anyway so may as well write as I listen.

Philosophy time. There are three lives. The real one, the ideals I remember and the ideals I imagine. Would it be so hard to shift to if not the same I remember but at least one similar enough to feel right? Everything's out of adjustment here: No people around, no local or work community to mix with, mental and physical problems, and all projects reach no more than a fraction of their potential. I'm 46 already for Christ's sake, and should have made it in at least one area rather than have all my senses eroded to the point of near insanity. I need something to draw me back and that will only come in the form of a miracle unless I can somehow heal naturally which is theoretically also possible. But a miracle is needed and one would be actually finishing a job I started in 1974.

The lost girlfriend now found for the 4th time is like a film. A theme which returns every 10 years but so far with no conclusion. I will either take action soon as in when I log off here or next week, but action I will take as I have a certain key to this problem and it is one of my own making as I described before. It will still involve a 40 plus mile journey if I win but if anything would get me to travel she would. Consequences will only be known if I do, but I've made similar journeys most of my life so it's hardly an ordeal. But looking at the other women I know the single one I stand any chance with (5%) is fine in the main respect, but not, as the Yanks say, a keeper from what I've picked up so far. Great for purpose #1 but unlikely to stay my course as my tolerance levels can't take certain levels of noise. Unless she calms down a heck of a lot which is possible but not that likely from what I've seen.

So in comparison though the woman from the far reaches of the west side of nowhere hasn't been seen for a heck of a long time and could have gone slightly downhill (she hasn't seen me either which could be a problem, though she has as it's on my email, oh...) she can't be that different as people rarely are. Maybe my picture not my awful behaviour at the time put her off. I have the then and now pictures, the then was taken exactly when she met me and the now is probably like a different person, though had I kept my hair the rest isn't that different. But if she really liked me she wouldn't have been put off that easily as she's 45 as well and may not have aged as well as me (it's genetic, no credit for any special tricks). I've waited a week already and usually most people reply the next day if they want to. I told the drama student what I wanted to as I had nothing to lose but this one is quite technical though I expect I lost the game the second she saw my email. I think about another week and I'll go for it in case she isn't that net savvy. My arse, everyone is now if they register for websites but you have to let things run their course and not rush them. For her sins maybe getting married, having 2 kids, living in Africa and getting divorced were things she had to go through first, and had I gone for it back in 1984 (second chance) she may have felt she'd missed out. The furthest south I'd go is Brighton and if she wanted to work abroad it would have been without me. Now she's got it out of her system I've missed her prime (mind you some women much older are still up to the mark) and certainly wouldn't have my own children should it work, but as I said, I don't make the rules.

So despite talking speculative bollocks in the past, this one ought to have worked better but in fact has apparently just followed every other cheap easy attempt to do something that should be hard work, like getting a postal degree. Some corners will not be cut, and though the work would be ahead as she lives halfway to Land's End I'd be expected to have worked before getting her back and not just finding her name on a website and expecting her to jump 22 years after I last spoke to her (as she was married in between). I have only had two women who appeared to be mutual and she was the second. Admittedly I never tried her out in any sense as both times I ran off within minutes, but the little I know about her tells me enough to guess I'm right. I can't think of one other time this happened though I came close a couple of times, one I chucked for being boring (changed my mind the next day but she didn't) and the other was 200 miles away and impossible to get very far with, and we were running out of conversation after 2 weeks...

No book or film could compete with real life stories. I have a good idea of my chances (nil) but until I either wait another week for a late reply (nil again) or get a result from my second email (1%) I am fucked. The best I will do is a book or article about my failures as no oner would believe one person could screw up every time whatever the circumstances. I can't believe it. I had the crumbs off the table, but never the full meal. Half my mental problems must be caused by this as a basic need has not been fulfilled. I was told a way I can by a friend recently so at least there is a way round it but definitely a last resort. It wouldn't be one that lasted but would fulfil a job. But why always last resorts and third rate solutions? Can I ever get something properly instead of missing the target and getting a fraction of the whole job every time as I have in every other aspect of my life except buying a house and my first degree? As usual, it's up to 'other people'.