The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

‘show me through your eyes’
01:17 May 31 2009
Times Read: 991

Someone once told me ‘show me through your eyes’, in reference to my writing.



And, when I seek to help to those I care for, I suggest to them that they try to see themselves as I see them.



Well, on Friday when I went on my travels: I had gone to Bromborough Village to get my money and saw myself through someone eles eyes, not once, but on three occasions.



The first time had been when I’d met a young man who I’d not seen since I was fifteen or sixteen. Not only did the fellow remember me with a smile; he recalled the impressions I used to do, of Elvis Presley, Michael Crawford and the like.



And, with pride, he had told me that he’s been doing impressions himself and, even been on the radio. It’d been cool to meet him and, to be remembered so well.



I had been to the building Society, and then crossed the road at the old Bromborough Cross. Then, as I continued walking to the bus-stop, I’d had my second cause for thought, as a young woman, in her late twenties, early thirties walked toward me, on my left: she with short dark hair, brown eyes, white shirt, grey cotton pants, combat style, with short combat style black boots.



She had walked with purpose, toward the bank on the corner, eyes straight ahead, like some guy’s walk, like me at times. Then as she neared, I had turned my head a little to ‘check her out’, as you do; then, been pole-axed when she’d smiled directly at me.

Even when I returned the smile, she maintained the gaze, until she’d walked past me and to the bank on the corner, opposite the old Cross.



Then I’d got my bus, to town; Birkenhead. And, pretty well everywhere I went I was getting ‘looks’ of some kind, which one could put down to my style of dress, my hippy bounce, or maybe even the 70’s style walkman attached to my belt.

Anyhow, the looks had been real, yet as I was in a good, assertive mood, I hadn’t minded, not one jot.



I’d dropped off a tape and, picked up some discs, and then travelled on, as I’d sought a whiskey. And that it when the two young ladies passed me on my right: They’d be termed alternative dressers. {Although, one has to wonder, ‘alternative to what?’]

I’m guessing it was a kind of cross been rocker and mosher – ish.



Anyhow: as the two passed me, one looked at me and smiled, a gentle smile.



So feeling a tad confused and, or amused, I turned the right corner and looked in the window of Argus. And, although I had looked and stared, I hadn’t been able to see what they had seen, at all. And that had tickled me. Yet, as I carried on homeward after my whiskey, a thought had occurred to me: maybe, just maybe, they just liked what they saw.



And, though I’d found that difficult to comprehend, I’d decided to go with that explanation, as it was rather complimentary.



After all, we all like compliments, don’t we??







I had gone out on a day that was as bright as I’ve known it get and just two degrees cooler than it was in Portugal.



I had worn my old worn faded not-so coal black jeans, with a black cotton shirt, work open halfway down, to display my Ankh and hairy chest; the collar worn up, too protect my neck from the sun. I also wore my photo chromatic glasses, with the black leather cap on my head to keep the sun out.



It was all very practical and with my white Sony walkman hooked onto my heavy black leather belt, playing 60’s and 70’s sounds, quite a good image.

... and, headwork.
01:10 May 31 2009
Times Read: 992

After a long day spent in the sun wearing just my shorts, with little mother hovering over me, as I hoed and weeding and edged, I amble able to sit full lotus, perched on the armchair, and type away, moderately quietly: ‘real time is busy; very busy.. and full of headwork and writing & today, gardening.’

Commited?? should be...
00:31 May 29 2009
Times Read: 1,007

Yet, another night without volunteers; another night of doing a million things and then, when you get home, it’s time to cook yourself something to eat, before bed.

And, they say you have to be a committed volunteer, my feet and aching wrists suggest to me that you have to be volunteer you should be committed, for over sixteen years on a soup kitchen, with more to do each week, as you get

Lesbian Vampire Killers
15:52 May 28 2009
Times Read: 1,016




Two city slackers, with a penchant for beer, the stories two main protagonists find themselves in the local pub, after Fletch has lost his job and Jimmy has been finally dumped by his on off girlfriend Judy: “I’m no in love with you, but I love you… we need space apart, so we can be together…”



As she speaks, crossing her legs, an intercut to his face shows disbelief, as this has happened so many times before.



She then drives to see her new lover, who she has been seeing behind Jimmy’s back, who turns out to be married, but I’m getting ahead of myself.



Meanwhile, at the pub, after several pints they decide to on a hiking holiday wherever the dart points, as Jimmy throws a dart into a map of England on the wall.



Jimmy throws his dart, which flies with unerring accuracy, towards Cragwich.



So, to Cragwich they go: a hamlet, in the middle of nowhere and near Norwich.



Judy then drives to see her new lover, who she has been seeing behind Jimmy’s back who turns out to be married, to a woman who looks remarkably like her.



They’re packed off to a local free hostel by the barkeep, who tells them he’s just sent some half-naked young women there as well.



In the old Camilla Hostel, as he watches nubile babes dancing, ‘Hot, Hot, Hot’, Fletch says with can in hand, “The best holiday in my fuckin life’ and, ‘I love hiking.’



As the girl’s dance, Lotte [the blonde with glasses] tells Jimmy they are there to study old folklore and the legend of Camilla, the High Vampiress.



And, later in soft focus, we see the girls taken, by the lesbian vampires.



“Is that it?!” Fletch exclaims, as he sees a vampire die and puddle, in creamy goo; after which he says to Jimmy, “Run, you bell-end.”



To the sounds of ‘Saturday Night’, Judy arrives at the hostel, much to Lotte’s dismay, as she notices the look on Jimmy’s face.



And, that’s it: there is more of course. But, I’d suggest you watch the film.



All-in all, I would have to say that for a little British film, I had thought it was big on laughs and much as I don’t like the television series that stars Mathew Horne [Jimmy] and James Corden [Fletch] I had found this film uproariously funny. And yes, there had been the ubiquitous shower scene and, enough Kensington gore to drown at least a couple of drunken leprechaun’s: All that, and Lucy Gaskell as Judy, my idea of the ex from Hell.

... minus Grissom.
23:40 May 27 2009
Times Read: 1,022

I just watched the bestest CSI minus Grissom ever: part CSI/ part Galaxy Quest and, wholly entertaining.



As I type, there’s wind and rain outside and it’s warm here: voluntary work tomorrow... and, flippin ‘eck do I ‘ope I ‘ave less to do than last week. It took me two days to recover last week.

How very Pisces?
23:28 May 27 2009
Times Read: 1,023

I got up late, after telling my Father no more late nights: so I can keep my Broadband access. I plodded into the living-room, to go through to the kitchen and there was my Dad re-setting the channels manually, to reacquire the channels he had lost.



He’d successfully used the numbers he had been given by a television engineer, but the screen was still green. So I sat cross-legged, in my green stripey terry-towel robe, wishing I hadn’t lost my best reading-glasses.



I had used the remote and within minutes had acquired what he wanted, normal colour and not a green screen.



Then I had asked him why he didn’t ‘tape ‘The Quiet Man’ the day previous and he’d told me that the machine was only 40 gig. So I had discussed with him the merits of his machine, with the instruction manual in my hands: it highlighted the fact that the hard-drive capacity is 80 gigabytes.



He had already recorded one film that pleases him, ‘Warlock’ and knowing how much he likes ‘The Quiet Man’; I had been surprised that he’d not recorded it.



The reason was his lack of comprehension about the hard-disk size: so I explained that it allowed him to record up to 55 hours.



As I left the room, Dad was scouring the Radio Times to see if it was being shown again, even though I had suggested it wouldn’t be shown for again, for a while.



A few minutes later I popped my head round the door and he began telling me that Victor MacLaglen who starred in ‘The Quiet Man’ with John Wayne, had fought for the world championship. So, just for a moment or two, he shared a little f one of his minor treats dash obsessions. How very Pisces? How very my Father??

Memorial Day
14:48 May 25 2009
Times Read: 1,042

I like the idea off Memorial Day. here we have our Poppy Day, [Rememberence Sunday, 11/11/]



Many of those my bro went to the Falklands died in a stupid, unnecessary conflict.



[Iraq springs to mind]



I support our soldiers, wherever they are: although I wish it were the politicians who fought the wars, not for their expenses.





Rememberance Sunday:





After the first world war soldiers with no limbs, or no face, whatever, made poppies to see around then, to illustrate the blood spilt on the field of France.



We have two minutes silence [strictly observed] at eleven, around the eleventh, as I recall.



**Hangs head**



though I could be a tad wrong on the dates.

Bank Holiday Thoughts
14:32 May 25 2009
Times Read: 1,044

With Radio Merseyside on I was listening to ‘Two Tribes’ and an image sprung to the fore, of Bush and Blair, charging over a hill, kitted out with all a soldier needs [well, all we can afford, for their safety that is] with their rifles out and bayonet fixed, as they search for weapons of mass distraction. And, wouldn’t it be cool, if the drugs war was solved over a spliff; and, politicians gave up their pay for a day, for the good of the poor; and, the armies stayed at home and rebuilt the industries that were killed off, as investors put their money in countries other than ours? And thinking these thoughts I pick up a metaphorical pen again, to get them down, as they whirl round and round ready to be caught with a frellin great net. And once finished, I boot up the peecee to go on the net and see what I might see on VR and put up the piece that I’ve just done.

PartyLand Girl's
13:36 May 25 2009
Times Read: 1,046

Early in the morning, my laptop before me, I type away idea’s, many of which could not see print on the site where my stories sit; and it’s all the fault of those PartyLand Girls, those one’s with smiles and a telephone and little else, as the hours pass until dawn. And there, Caty, Alex and Roxanna and distracting as they are, I know that I’ll not finish what I’m working on, as I glance up from the screen and to the teevee, where an exquisitely curved brunette smiles at the camera, as she crawls on all fours, on the silken sheets, that cover the bed. And the girl from Romania is staring at me, caressing her knee, as I gaze intently with my mind hardly on what I see, instead of on the keys that I need to press, to create the pictures that I see in my head. And, that’s all very irksome, as I’m not making the words take form, as they should. So I take out a video-tape, slot it in and lie down, my duvet over me, idea’s swirling in my head, of the Partyland Girls that I’ll see when I wake, over coffee: thinking to myself that it’s nifty, that the programmes on Freeview on fifty.

‘Tripping The Rift’ ...
00:45 May 25 2009
Times Read: 1,054

Having just had a cup of tea made from green stalks that had been waiting for a day like today, a train journey to Karl’s is made very pleasant indeed as I feel as mellow as a yellow mellow thing, that I can’t think of a name for.

An the best part? Well, if this wasn’t the best day of the year so far, it ranks real high on a short-list of five. An yeah, I’m ‘sittin on the train as I write; off to Karl’s, late; as my ear wouldn’t stop bleeding. I rarely shave when I’m feelin low. So, come Sunday morning I shaved properly. Well, to be more accurate, I shaved a little too well.

And boy, did it bleed!

And, I was talking of Karl’s: [says he, more than a tad outofit]. I phoned the other day, to say amongst other things that I’d found some more ‘Tripping The Rift’, which I really like. Anyhow’s, I had asked him how he felt about his exams and he had then retorted, “You asked me that the other day.”

Well, as I was walking up and down on a Sunny Sunday I realized I realised why it was so significant to me that I’d asked, again: it was easy really; it was that we’d put s much into it. Now, his success has become damn important to me.

To Diana: 'A mistake made at the end of the day.'
19:02 May 22 2009
Times Read: 1,077

I got in at 9:30 p.m. with a body that had reminded me I’m the age that I am, after an evening at voluntary work, with three volunteers less than we need.



And I know I should cook and I will, but I still have to, nay need to, type out my thoughts on something that bothered me on VR, before I left home and caught the train and passed couples holding hands.



It began earlier, as I say, back on VR. And, I hadn’t meant to upset someone, but I think that I did. In fact, truth be told, I’m sure I did. And, I maintain one takes responsibility for one’s words and actions: and, have done for years.



But, I’ve gotten used to my friends list on VR rising and falling and people having me there for no good reason: and, it’s left me more than a tad jaundiced.



There have been so many times, when I’ve made an overture of friendship towards someone: ended up on their ‘friends list’, only to have them later ignore me, for no reason that I can understand.



As it happens, that happens most often with those who have been given a prestigious role on VR and boy, do I know whom I mean.



Yet, when I hear women berate ‘all men’, for ‘being the same’, I think of my ex’s and how I used to say quite the reverse, and that ‘all women are the same.’ Yet, they’re not ‘all the same’, just the ones I’ve had relationships with.



And, maybe that says something about me? Or, it could say something about the fact that someone close to them had sexually abused the women who have chosen me, prior to our relationships? [Not that I’d known till I’d known till much later on.]



And, I do try to understand people: tell me something, and I want to know more. That’s my way. After all, like many, I too want to be understood.



But [and, is there always a ‘but’??] Life just doesn’t always go as you’d like; and, nevermind your best efforts, or intentions.



It’s all a bit like the coincidence that occurs when one message is sent to one person, as that person is sending a message to the first person; or when you’ve decided to seek revenge, on the person who has chosen to forgive you, until they find out what you’ve done, while they were unaware.



[Oh that happened, years ago: and scared the crap out of me at the time.]



These coincidences happen and they’re out of an individual’s control: and, I do so dislike it when I’m not in control.

I chose Angelus...
23:54 May 20 2009
Times Read: 1,090

I chose Angelus, the name I use on Vampire Rave, to represent the darker side.



It was writing fan fiction, based on Josh Wheedon’s character that got me thinking about it.. [Angelus being the darker side of Josh Wheedon’s character Angel] aye, we all have that darker said. It's how we choose to display it…



And, how often do we actually get the opportunity to do that?? Rarely methinks.



But, knowing one’s darker side well, infers one knows oneself and, I do: as I maintain that I became self-aware at the age of 36.



But, it took a long while to get where I am and, it all it had to do with learning how not to make the same mistakes that I have made in my past, often once more than once.



If you find yourself replicating the mistakes that lead to a sense of dissatisfaction, that is the best time to seek change for self. That bit I know.



I chose to seek change, for my own benefit. So, I did a confidence course.



And, it is interesting to note how others change toward you, when you start feeling more confident, in oneself: as one grows more self-aware, the perceptions of those around you do change.



I learnt that quite awhile ago and, the thing is nowadays I don't mind. I'll confess, I actually find it quite interesting, even their negative reactions can be a positive learning experience, as one can learn a lot from them.



They can be a focus, for one's own desired change, if you choose; illustrating to those with opened eyes, the opportunities for self-empowerment that can be gained from further growth.



The flipside to this, as intimated, is that one can quickly lose friends, as they discover you are not prone to being manipulated as easily as you once were.



Perception of our world around us is the key. Yet, the trouble is your baggage often gets in the way of the view: yet, when it comes down to it though, it's hard, to put down your baggage.



In my case, the hardest baggage to lose, was that related to people I had made connections with, which bore relevance to my sense of self.



I mean, one of the best lessons I learnt was just that.



Another was easier…



Accept what you can .. change.

Accept .. what you can't. And.. adapt.

Either live with what you can't, or change how you percieve it, or work with it.



Cha, It’s all back to acceptance.. acceptance what you can change.. and, what you can't.. stuff it.

Brother DCP-135c
01:03 May 20 2009
Times Read: 1,107

I successfully loaded the software to my new multifunction device from Brother: a DCP-135c

A nice looking machine: but, when I plugged in the USB and rebooted, the PC would go no further into windows than the Sympatmec screen, at the very start. Ie: no Windows XP



But, start the PC up without it being plugged into a USB; then plug it in and fine, it works no problem.



Erm, any suggestions??

... my idea of Hell.
15:43 May 19 2009
Times Read: 1,116

As of Now, I am warily looking at my new printer/scanner, as I contemplate installing it.

My excuse for not doing so before Now, was that there was still ink in the old printer.

Unfortunately, I can’t say that anymore…



**sobs**





arthritis and raynards.. and, bein too polite.. nein 'visible' on Yahho chat in my mail was awkward: four screens open & I felt obliged to answer each.. and, the hands won't do.

Arghhh, my idea of Hell.

The thing is, I don't want to offend 'coz I have arthritic joints and pain in my fingetips: I mean, what with arthritis and raynards.. and, bein too polite.. that was awkward.

'Wolverine' and, a long day.
23:17 May 18 2009
Times Read: 1,119

I shouldn’t have been surprised that when I had got to the station I’d learnt that the previous train, the one that I wanted, had just pulled out; and Sunday service being what it is, I had another eighteen minutes to wait.



I certainly hadn’t been surprised to find that the public phone on the station platform couldn’t get a line; and the one outside wouldn’t take my coins. So I couldn’t phone Karl to let him know what had happened.



So, here I am on the train: an I’d started making packed rollies. And, what did I find?

Yes, you’ve guessed it… only one skin left: a bit of ‘baccy and, just one paper. It could have been worse I guess, I might’ve had none.



But, I had wanted to tell the tale of my fifteen minutes of fame on the radio, didn’t I?

Well, as I’m rapidly approaching the station I’ll get off at, I’d better set my quartered sheet of A4 and pen aside awhile, until I’ve time to tell it!



**Puts both in inside pocket of leather jacket**



I’d got off at Birkenhead Central, pegged it up the stairs and got to a phone. That is when I’d learnt that Dawn had got me again: she was coming with us, after all. Then as an afterthought almost, Karl mentioned that the new ‘Star Trek’ film was available to download, as a screener, [not bad quality, just not great; a step-up from a cam-job and a big-step, at that.] Needless to say, that’d been of interest to me.

“Can you acquire it?” I’d asked. And, I’m sure I’d been able to ‘see’ him smiling as he had acceded to my request.



I’d got to Karl’s breathless, though my rushing hadn’t been needed, as now instead of ‘Star Trek’, we were off to see ‘Wolverine’, [which I’ve seen as a download, with incomplete CGI… but otherwise, very good copy.] We were off to see it instead of ‘Trek’ as Dawnie likes Hugh Jackman, but more of that anon.



I went into Karl’s room; and, as I walked in I saw his new laptop, a Panasonic Toughbook CF-29. I’d just typed ‘Well I’ll be this is chunky’ and, had been about to punctuate the phrase, when Karl closed the lid on it, picked it up and, dropped it on the floor. Needless to say, he had been delighted with the shocked look on my face, telling me it had looked like the guy in the interview he’d seen for the machine, who had a similar expression on his face, shown a similar machine, in a similar manner.



It turns out that a similar [FRELL, there’s that word again! Where’s the Thesaurus?] machine had saved a soldiers life in Iraq,, when it took the bullet and he hadn’t. It seems the machine still works and can be found in the Pentagon, Karl tells me.



Well, Dawn did arrive. And, though engaged, a P.A. and a home-owner, she’s still as dizzy as I recall; a kind of cross between Phoebe Buffay from ‘Friends’ and Madison from ‘Splash’ [with legs] as played by Daryl Hannah.



I’ve known those two since I was a Teachers Aide cum I.T. Support Officer at a local community technology centre attached to the school were they were sixth-formers. And boy, they’re two of the nicest young people I know.



And, Dawn had splayed herself out on Karl’s bed, still suffering the effects of too many shots the previous night, complaining [with a smile] that we had to go out, that was until she recalled who was in the film we were to see.



“What’s it about again?” She had asked, sounding more blonde than usual.

When I’d reminded her, she had recalled me saying I’d seen it already, so she’d asked me to tell her when Hugh gets full-frontal, so she could get a seat a the front.



And, I’d said ‘yes’, as I’d studied her toes. Other than Beverly [The True Love] she has the bestest, longest, sexiest toes of any woman I can think of; well, as I say, other than Beverly, Beverly Martin, a friend Lover and my lodger, at one time.



I had endeavoured to tell the tale of the lap-top being dropped to Dawn, as I was sending an email; and as I was half-way through, Karl picked the Frellin laptop up again, then dropped it. It had landed on its hinges and for a while it looked like the unbreakable had been broken. But, from command-line, Karl had got it to re-boot, saying to us, “Though it’s unbreakable, it seems that the software isn’t!”



Dawn had taken credit for the machine’s malfunction, but Karl had just grinned in a kind of sardonic kind of way, explaining that if it was going to go, he could sell it for more than he paid.



And, when given it, an Easter-egg hadn’t provided the chocolate hit that Dawn, the skinny malinkey wanted: so, when I had asked about chocolate and fruit-shoots for the cinema, Karl had mentioned Milky-Way’s and her eyes lit-up.



Yet, there’d been a hitch, a minor one at that. As we were about to step out the front door the heavens opened, that kind of straight-down wets you straight away kind of rain: and, we were thankful, till she drove, that Dawn was driving to the cinema.



Now, I’m not saying Dawn is scary when she drives: no, of course not. I’m sort of suggesting that a racing driver would seem like a little old lady, compared to her.

And, that doesn’t mean I’m saying she’s a bad driver, as I’m not. She’s just, very confidant, supremely so.



So, a quick trip to the hole-in-the-wall and we were ready to rock ‘n roll, getting to the pictures with the adverts to spare.



And, as to the film ‘Wolverine’: Well, it is the sequel the X-Men fans want to see, with an origin story for the main protagonist that is close enough to the comics, so an old fan like me won’t get pissed off, while still being fast-paced enough for the youngsters to latch onto, what with their grasshopper minds an all.



Well after the film, I got kidnapped and Karl and I went to Moreton, to see the home she is sharing with her partner Neville. It was lovely, in a new housing estate, with all on the roads and cul-de-sac named after flowers. But, when I had complimented the conservatory for its construction, Dawn had laughed and said ‘noway.’



It seems from what she had explained, that the estate is built on drained marshland, which is prone to flood. And, in twenty to thirty years time, the conservatory will go and take half the house with it.



As I say, dizzy she may look and act, but Dawnie is one of the most intelligent ladies I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. “So, are you buying them?” I’d asked curiosly.

“No renting,” she’d answered with a smile.



Well, the rain had started to fall again and I was missing my tea: and gloves.

Having Raynards, the loss of the gloves meant something to me. And, as she had given us a llift to Birkenhead, as I’d requested, she took us to the cinema, before the station, to enquire about my gloves; unfortunately, they had been a no-show.

But, it was good of her to take me. I mean, it’s a toss up, who has the better heart, at times, her or Karl, as they’re equally matched in the ‘niceness’ stakes.



On the train, on my way home, I looked in my inside pocket and found three Milk-Way, that had missed being consumed in the pictures. As I studied the packet on one, I’d noticed that it had been made in Russia.



So, not only do we not have any heavy industry left in England now, we don’t make our own sweets. Oh how damn ludicrous!



Thankfully, when I’d got off at Bromborough, the rain had finally let up and I was able to get home without getting wet. All-in-all, a good day and I still have ‘Star Trek’ to watch, as I write of m fifteen minutes of fame, instead of going on Vampire Rave, as it’s getting quite late.



[Ah, the time!! It’s time to put the milk-bottles out.]



An, as James Tiberius Kirk fights his first battle, I’m told by the video machine that it won’t recognize the second of the two discs. “Uh huh, typical.”

Eject it, press play, then.. Aha.. it’s recognized the disc.



But, I had started this epistle with the story about the Radio Show, hadn’t I? Well before I think of getting beneath the duvet, I’ll do that.



On Saturday, the 16th May, the fellow presenting the morning show on Radio Merseyside had starting by talking of ‘Coronation street’ and how Dev, the corner-shop lothario had finally had his come-uppance for his philandering ways, when a naked picture of him was displayed in the street, by his now ex-girlfriend.



He then asked for the listeners’s to phone-in with their own stories of vengeance attained. So, I had phoned in, with a story of my own, which dated back to 1976.



I say that, it had actually started in ’72, when a boy had stood up and betrayed a secret. The person the secret belonged to had been me. The other, the boy who had been so-mean, had seemed charming and very plausible: and my friend, till then.



Cut the chase, to two to three years later and the Geography room, which several of us fifth formers were using as a common-room during break-time.



Well, Yvonne had walked into where we were. Or the other Neil had, my memory isn’t clear on that. What I do recall well is the conflict that followed: and the order of those events, which is ironic considering what happened later and the opportunity for vengeance I was presented with. But, I’m getting ahead of myself.



Yvonne, had curves and though not tall, those curves were Junoesque: meaning she was very curvaceous and got the piss taken out of her goodstyle, by the mock-charmer.



She hadn’t taken his untoward remarks well and slapped him, somewhat justifiably in my opinion. But that hardly matters, as he blocked the move, then when she went to slap him a second time, the charming fellow head-butted her.



When she left the classroom she was fine, albeit tearful. But, she hadn’t been crying, not until halfway down the corridor and she pretty well walked into the Deputy Headmaster ‘Pop’ Roy. Then the tears had flowed: and needless to say, ramifications had followed.



‘Pop’ Roy had taken the two of them to the Headmaster’s Master and then the whole of the fifth year students, who Neil had said were present at “the incident”. And, soon there we all stood in a group before where the fellow sat behind his desk, reminding me somewhat of Captain Mainwaring from ‘Dads Army.’



Yvonne had said what had happened, when pressed. Then Neil had been questioned and his response had been, “She started it.”



‘Pop’ Roy is a stentorian and was the fellow who would generally do the caning’s for the Headmaster Mr. Bamforth: and, when he spoke people listened.



One by one he began to question the fifth year students. He had asked one fellow who Neil had made fun of his sister being killed on a bike. That guy took real pleasure in saying he knew nothing and said so with a straight face, as had each of the others.



Finally, ‘Pop’ Roy had got to the always smartly dressed fellow who Neil had considered his best friend at school. He too had said he knew nothing.



Then, both Mr. Bamforth and ‘Pop’ Roy had turned their gaze to me: “So what do you know Neil? Is he telling the truth when he says she started it?” I’d been asked.



Around me there’d been an air of expectation; people knew there was animosity between that scrot and me. So there wasn’t too much surprise I suppose from the fifth formers, when I’d looked Mr. Bamforth squarely in the eyes and said, “I don’t know anything about it Sir, I was talking to someone. I wasn’t paying attention.”



In essence, I had lied completely, just like several of the fifth year.



‘Pop’ Roy had turned to Neil and reminded him of the seriousness of the offence.

Then, after a moment’s deliberation they decided he would get the maximum punishment that a student would have had, during their tenure in their roles: six strokes of the cane, every day of the week.



So, as it happens, I had been presented the chance to obtain my vengeance, passively.



There, I finally told the tale. And though it’s taken awhile to do so, I think it was a good tale to tell…

**smiles**
23:15 May 18 2009
Times Read: 1,120

.. am watching Star Trek, as I type.



**smiles**



I do like The Internet.

Dawn's plan change to the day.
13:28 May 17 2009
Times Read: 1,133

It’s pouring down outside and I’ve plans that were malleable, as Dawn had become involved in my plans for the cinema and Karl. We’d wanted ‘Star Trek’ and Dawn wanted ‘Wolverine.’ Dawn being who she is to us, I can see how it’ll go.

[They were both sixth-formers at the community centre I had been an I.T support and teachers aide… and dawn had ‘pinked’ my desk diary, long story…] and, as I type away, my eyes still have a problem with staying open: it was such a pleasant evening, just having a laugh, as we watched, ‘Infected’, which was essentially the same story as ‘V’, if anyone recalls that show.

And, the sky has just turned blue and I have just finished a story, which has left me with that wonderful sense of satisfaction that only a creator can feel.

And, at moments like this, I feel sorry for anyone who can’t do, themselves; they’ll never feel that sense of elevated self, that I feel right Now.

And, I speak of satisfaction: like that I felt yesterday, as both of the people I’d wanted to hear from so much phoned. And, like that I had felt yesterday, after my brief five minutes or so, on the air… but that will be written of later… Dawn phoned and plans were changed… and, I think we’re going for the earlier showing now… and, I think, we’re going to see ‘Star Trek’ Now.

Life the Universe and Everything!!
00:05 May 16 2009
Times Read: 1,147

Little Mother had an accident in the shower and bled too much from her leg: I blame the steroids. A good thing had been when her niece had phoned from New Zealand, in part as it was her Father, my late Uncles 83rd Birthday the Wednesday. It’d been rather special, to hear the pleasure in my Mothers voice, as she spoke to her last contact with her brother. And, I spent much of the afternoon on Runaround duty and finishing stories, then still feeling wary about Life the Universe and Everything, I finished Thursday night with a smile, after and, a good night at the project, defined as such by people saying thank you and seeming content, with all they’d been given to eat: and, chatting briefly with someone I liked on Yahoo, shortly before bed.

'Laid To Rest'
00:20 May 14 2009
Times Read: 1,156

When I couldn’t access Vampire Rave early morning, thanks to pop-up’s appearing with very action, bringing up another explorer page, with a link to a site it couldn’t access. And, with every action I made anther explorer page appeared, again.

It’s just that VR has become part of my Life it seems: and the last time I got pop-up problems, no-one took me seriously, particularly ‘HELP.’ They had just quoted the rules to me, saying pop-up’s weren’t condoned, or encouraged; or something like that.

And, I don’t get depressed very often, yet I had. Then come the evening, knowing that I didn’t want to, I made sure I had. I had cooked chicken and rice and mushroom’s and pineapple and a dash of chilli-sauce, then sat down with a friend to watch the film, ‘Laid To Rest.’ Now I’d wanted distraction and I found it. ‘Laid To Rest’ is certainly as good as anyone non-zombie, or vampire movie I’ve seen this year, other than perhaps ‘Splinter.’ “And boy, was Lena Headey young in it. I don’t know when it was made, but her teeth hadn’t been straightened. And, when you do get to see the stalking nasty, you actually find a kinda reference to Terminator, which was irony.”

And, I’d wanted distraction, from the whirlygig that is my mind, ‘Laid At Rest’ had provided it Wednesday evening; distraction I really needed. I’d recommend it.

Re: The Resumption of problems with Pop-Up's.
13:48 May 13 2009
Times Read: 1,164

I sent the following to 'help'...



res://C:WINDOWSsystem32shdoclc.dll/dnserror.htm#http://www.utarget.co.uk/UTVSubs/Campaigns/sims3/sims3.aspx?id=18861



.. this page has opened seven times, with each action I make within VR



..am I to encounter the same problems with VR a week or so, ago I had a few weeks ago??



And, since then another four pages have opened up. And, needless to say, I can't tell 'help' that, as they've only just taken my request! Arghhh...

.. a relaxing doze became a priority.
00:12 May 13 2009
Times Read: 1,168

Thanks to a couple of nice comments on my new vampire story ‘Dracula’s kiss’ I was up until nearly dawn finishing the story off, to my satisfaction.

Needless to say, come Tuesday morning I wasn’t at my best, as I heard my parents in the kitchen, on the other side of the wall, as they got loud [to me], discussing the new paint job my Father was doing.

“Are you awake?” a little Mother’s had asked of me, through the door, just ten minutes or so later.

“Yes,” I’d responded, “I’ve been awake for ages [a fib] but I’m not leaving [my room] it’s not safe.”

A smoke and a cold coffee later, “I want your help in the garden.”

Up and dressed within minutes, I was outside and ready ‘to help.’

And, the help was gratefully given, as I’m thankful Little Mother is now asking for the help she needs, instead of trying to do everything she is accustomed to doing: and anyway, digging holes for plants on a sunny morning was a pleasure.

It had also been pleasant, just sitting on the bench-seat with Little Mother once we’d finished, watching the Lady Blackbird scoffing as much bread as it could in its beak.

Then later, after putting the story, ‘Last Kiss’ up on VR I went walkies, to sign-on.

Two weeks prior, I’d walked to the benefit office in the teeming rain. Yet this time the weather was as if it were our best day of an English Summer, glorious: and the walk was an absolute pleasure. That said, due to the lack of sleep, bits of me were aching on my return and the eyes were more than a tad heavy, so a relaxing doze was a priority.

I just read this in my comments.
23:53 May 11 2009
Times Read: 1,175

Huh.. I just read this in my comments.





* *





MORE! NOW! WRITEWRITEWRITE!!!!!!!! 0.o Um........please?



Fantastic story! :D







* *





I wonder what I'm doing tomorrow??

There is no ‘I’ in team, but there are four in ‘platitude quoting idiot.’
23:12 May 11 2009
Times Read: 1,178

Now there’s few thing I’ve learnt since yesterday. The first, if you drink a good Rosé you can wake up at weirdness hours; then, if you’re up all night writing, you don’t wake up well; and, if you try to open up the base of a zip fastener with a fine-blade screw-driver, then be sure where you shove it – it can penetrate quite deep into flesh, as I have found out.



*



And 'yes', there is no ‘I’ in team, but there are four in ‘platitude quoting idiot.’

... the doors were shown, to me.
01:00 May 10 2009
Times Read: 1,192

I smiled when I read a friends message about the Tarot, as my eyes were opened many years ago, to what I can feel: Tarot included.

I haven't followed up on my knowledge for years. then one day I picked up a pack of playing cards and found out I can read them, as if they were 'pretty pictures.'

.. impressed me.
16:53 May 09 2009
Times Read: 1,196

Last night, it impressed me, that from what we shared during a series of messages, we very nearly wrote the next part of Celines story, there and then; such is the writing process.

".. it doesn't end."
23:27 May 08 2009
Times Read: 1,206

Like Life, stories of 'the club' are ongoing.



[it's a fun project, with a mistress.]



I am also writing the 'Draculas Kiss' romance, but no-one seems to have noriced.



and, 'the escort for the night.'



**sobs**

... a night of writing, with a Lady.
18:55 May 08 2009
Times Read: 1,209

... first two are up Now, third in five minutes.

... the 51st State.
14:38 May 07 2009
Times Read: 1,217

The group The The called it right, ‘we are the 51st state of America:’ and, I find great amusement in the fact that our society seems to ape the USA so much, believing it sad that we need to, when we were known as a people with real character, at one time: not now though, as the spectre of capitalism has ripped the soul out of us.

... with a smile.
14:01 May 07 2009
Times Read: 1,218

..it's sunny, I finished a story at 2:20 a.m. am off to voluntary work soon and it's sunny: and, I'm still awake.

[And, I just read two nice messages, so as I get ready to go out, I'll do so with a smile!]

The other side of domestic abuse...
13:28 May 05 2009
Times Read: 1,235

As I trawl the profiles, I see quite a few people listing in their list of dislikes, ‘abusive men.’ Well, the cover of a paper today, highlighted the case of Ian McNicholl, who endured sustained domestic abuse from his wife to be Michelle Willamson, until he could take no more.

He was glassed, slash and had ribs broken, while all the while thinking things would get better. The simple fact is that women commit forty percent of reported domestic abuse cases against men. And, in 2007/8 34 men were murdered by a partner, or ex-partner. So, why is the issue treated so lightly?

Doctor Who at The Fab Café .. [the day itself]
14:12 May 04 2009
Times Read: 1,238

I started the morning after a good night at six, when the alarm rang. I’d woken easily, considering how good the evening had been. [And, I think ‘The Gene Generation is a good film.]



Within quarter of an hour I’d had another coffee and a smoke, with some visual distraction, as I listened to ‘Daybreak’, the religious show on Radio Merseyside.



It’d rained heavily through the night. And, even though it was very bright outside, I threw the black coat and cap into the bag into the bag, with the cameras; and, juice, laced with painkiller, ‘just in case.’]



I had left home, bag over my shoulder with my brown leather jacket on; the one that my Father rubbed oil into the barer patches of the previous day, having me stand still, just after I had weeded the front drive.



As I said, it’d rained heavily through the night and, the colours of the greens of the trees lining the road seemed a little brighter than usual, in the morning sunlight.



And, there had been birdsong and little traffic, as I’d made my way to the station, to learn that I’d missed the train I’d planned for by ten minutes.



So, I’d walked the platform and lit another smoke: and before I’d got halfway through it, my train had arrived.



At Birkenhead Central the train paused awhile, with the doors open as two rail staff chatted and I continued to write. And, the train journey to Manchester was one thing was one thing. But, the thing was whether there’d be a bus outside James Street Station to get me Lime Street, considering that there was no loop-line was still off?



I hoped there would be, as I really didn’t fancy a hike through to Liverpool to get to Central Station. And then, the train parked itself just before the entrance to the tunnel, for what seemed like an interminable amount of time.



‘This train is for James Street,’ came over the speaker: and, in my head I quietly screamed, “But, will there be a bus waiting outside, for me?”



Thankfully there had been a bus waiting: as it was a Sunday the roads were empty, so a journey that would normally take a while on a week-day only took minutes on a bright Sunday morning.



At Liverpool Lime Street I’d been a bit miffed to learn that you have to pay thirty pence for a pee. Well that meant that I needed change that I had to be acquired from W.H. Smiths, a place not renowned for giving change.

Thankfully, the little fellow behind the counter quite understood, when I’d explained why I needed it. Yet, back to issues of Sunday travel: there was only one direct Manchester train an hour, which I’d missed.



But, I could get the Scarborough train at nine twenty-two, the helpful lady member of staff had assured me. Heck, she’d even gone to the trouble of using her walkie-talkie to find out which of the two Manchester Stations I’d needed to get off at, to be nearest my destination, The Fab Café.

Nine twenty-two left me with nearly twenty-five minutes to wait outside in the sub, enjoying a smoke and watching the passers-by.



And, I’d said to one of two cleaners, each with a pavement scraper in hand, “Just me when to move and I will.”

He’d just grinned a toothy grin and said, “It’s okay mate.”



Then he’d indicated what he was doing and said, “And, they say that cigarettes make a mess…” And, he and his colleague continued to scrape the darkened, dried chewing-gum on the pavement around where I stood, with my back to the railings, the warm sun on my face.



The train journey was okay: and, between the seats in fronts in front of me was a delight to see, a brunette with shoulder-length, slightly wavy hair, in a yellow top, with short sleeves and a plunging-neck, with a plunging front and an awesome cleavage.



On the other side of the table before me, sat two attractive slim young, dark-haired ladies. The one nearest the window had pig-tails, the other had a green-blue enamel pendant round her neck: she was China, her friend by the window was Becky.

Both girls were tired after their travels, American and friendly.



And, when I’d taken a break from writing, to draw what I saw, I’d looked above to the smoked glass rack above me, at the reflected valley surrounded in yellow.

‘Yep, truly a fulsome pert delight and a pleasure to see,’ I’d thought, just before I got off the train at Manchester Oxford road.



After all the fun and games I’d had with travel, I got to the venue at ten twenty in the morning, just twenty minutes late. And, as it happens, the events plans for the day were also about that time late through the day. So I’d missed nothing I really wanted to see whatsoever. Lucky me.



With the absence of Pete and Vicky from the day, I had thought I’d feel a tad lonely. Well, that hadn’t been the case at all. Other than the two young ladies on the train, I’d met a young fellow in the queue name of Andy, who helped me find a good seat, situated just before where they’d be interviewing, right next to a Chinese looking fellow, who was filming the entire event; and, just to hi right was a Manchester Hackney taxi driver, name of Insar, [from Iran, or Iraq, I’d guess, but with a full-on Manc accent.]



And, situated where I was, I think I probably had the best seat ‘in the house’, as it where: When I’d made myself known to John, one of the people who helped set-up the event, he’d actually made a point of saying that. And, when I got talking to one fellow about the Doctor Who pantomime I wrote, it turned out that he appears on television, introducing science to children. As one the presenters had said, ‘he probably appears on televisions more often that all of today’s guest stars.’



That had received some real laughter.



When everyone had left the Fab Café to troop through he city, to go The Tiger Bar for the signing’s Andy, a friend of his and me had stood there in the doorway of The Fab Café debating what to do. Well, after a short-cut through an alley-way at the back of the venue, we’d left most of the throng behind us and then at the lights at the road, I’d said, so which way now. “Easy,” he’d said, “just follow the geeks.”



When we got to where the guests where seated, everyone was there but Sylvester McCoy [Seventh Doctor] who would be there for a signing later, we had been told: Mark Strickson [Turlough] Frazer Hines [Jamie] Colin Baker [Sixth Doctor] and Nicola Bryant [Peri]. I had been impressed that Sophie Aldred [Ace] had remembered me from two years ago, when she met me at the The Cavern. A delightful woman I was delighted to be recalled, then queried how. “The glasses,” she’d indicated. I had just said, “Ah, the John Lennon look.”



“Nice to be memorable.” I recall her saying, before I’d moved down the line to Mark Strickson, who’d proved so entertaining when he’d sat before us, with stories from his time on the show; and, his stories of Steve Irwin, who he helped ‘discover’, in his ‘proper’ job of film-producer, a job that had taken him round the world, to all sorts of spurious, dangerous locations.



Both the Doctor’s had taken stage before us, each with their respective Companions from the time.



Colin Baker had appeared first with Nicola Bryant; and then, Sylvester McCoy had taken stage with Sophie Aldred, who had taken pride it seemed, when introduced as the only one [so far] to destroy a Dalek with a baseball bat.



It was brilliant, seeing the repartee existing between each of them still, after all this time. And, each of them had given of themselves during their interviews.



But, knowing what the travel would be like, I had decided to go as soon as the main events of the day were over. But, as I had been missing one autograph, on my piece of paper, that of Sylvester Mc Coy. And, although I like Colin Baker and Nicola Bryant, it had been Sylvester and Sophie I had paid my £25 entrance fee to see.



“I know I’m being cheeky…” I’d explained to the man, just after waiting awhile for him to finish his conversation. I’d told him how much I wanted to see him and Sophie, ever since the last show of his Doctor, ‘Survival.’



With that sell, my request for an autograph, to join those on my itinerary for the day hadn’t been too much of an ask I think: and, with a smile he had acceded to my request.



The return journey had been a good one, with little wait at any of my connections, which had pleased me greatly, as by that point I was feeling proper tired.



I got home at shortly after seven, to find my roast chicken meal waiting to be nuked, with a glass of Rosé on the table.



At nine in the evening, I had lain down, ‘for half an hour’, with the duvet loosely pulled over me, and then woken at two. I had written awhile, with the appropriate visual distraction. I had written for an hour, and then easily fallen asleep again.



Come the next morning I’d been particularly freaked when I’d picked up the older of the two cameras, to see that it had a file stack error. And, I’d had to use that camera, as the flash doesn’t work on the new camera, hence the morning’s freak-out.

As it happens, the pictures were there and, they had downloaded successfully, thankfully as I’d have been so damn irked if they hadn’t.



I had changed my parents bed, after my Little Mother had stripped it, then as we were doing the housework, I recall I had mentioned how well I had slept and my witty Father had said it was down to the amount of wine I had drunk.

The Gene Generation
13:50 May 04 2009
Times Read: 1,240

Admiring the beauty of Bai Ling, the model turned ‘actress’, who is so prone to nipple-slips, I was stoked to acquire a copy of a sci-film she had appeared in, ever more so when I’d watched it and discovered it was actually quite good.



* *



The Gene Generation



In the futuristic world of Olympia, a city on the brink of destruction, a team of scientists discovers a way to instantly reconfigure human DNA so that all disease will come to an end. But even miracles come at a cost, and we’ll find out if this new technology is actually a blessing or a curse.

The DNA reconfiguration can save lives, but could potentially end them as well. Now, as gangsters and DNA Hackers overtake the city, the only promise for a better life is with the right DNA. Michelle (Bai Ling), a seductive assassin whose mission is to take out these so-called DNA hackers, is determined to use the new technology for good instead of evil.

When her brother Jackie (Perry Shen) steals a genetic device from their next-door neighbor Christian (Alec Newman), a vigilante scientist, he gets dragged into the immoral cyber-underworld. Banded together with him, Michelle must fight not just for her own flesh and blood, but also for the survival of mankind.



* *



I had thought it was a good film, with needless to say, the requisite Bail Ling nipple-shot, in a shower sequence.

It’s not the destination... ?
23:57 May 02 2009
Times Read: 1,242

As you might tell, I’ve looking forward to Sunday and though it transpires my friends Pete and Vicky won’t be going, [as I’d hoped they would] yet, I had to. After all, I’d been looking forward to this for ages: and Sophie Aldred is to be there! And, besides: much as I’m taking myself put of my comfort zone, travelling again. That’s a good thing. And, besides, what is it ‘they’ say?



“It’s not the destination, it’s the journey that matters!”



Well, in this case, it’s a bit of both. I feel as enthused as a teen on his first date; as I want to see Sylvester McCoy; and though I don’t like crowds very much, a bunch of Doctor Who enthusiasts don’t seem too scary a proposition, Hmmm.



We’ll see? **Laughs** tbc.

Doctor Who At The Fab Café
00:43 May 02 2009
Times Read: 1,243

Doctor Who convention, this weekend!



I got my tickets for the train, for Sunday!!!



A couple of former Doctors will be there.. and assistants.. and it'll be in a cool venue, The Fab Café: was at the Cavern, previous years.



* *



[Advertisement]



FANS LIKE US, the team that previously brought you three sell-out events at THE CAVERN CLUB in Liverpool, have now teamed up with Manchester's Fab Café to present DOCTOR WHO AT THE CAFÉ - an all-day celebration of the BBC's smash-hit Sci-Fi TV series.

The Event is Sunday 3rd May 2009 from 10am til 5pm.

109 Portland Street, Manchester, M1 6DN Tickets - £25 (Adults) £15 (Under 16's)



Guests confirmed so far include TWO former television Time Lords; SYLVESTER McCOY (Seventh Doctor) and COLIN BAKER (Sixth Doctor).

Plus companions MARK STRICKSON (Turlough), SOPHIE ALDRED (Ace), FRAZER HINES (Jamie), MARK STRIKSTON (Turlough), NICOLA BRYANT (Peri)

along with TOBY HADOKE (Moths Ate My Dr Who Scarf) and CHARLIE ROSS (Comedian).

More guests from the classic and new series will be announced soon.



http://tardisnewsroom.blogspot.com/2009/03/who-at-fab-cafe-in-manchester-review.html



http://www.myspace.com/fabcafemanchester



http://www.fabcafe.co.uk/

Twilight News ~ Spoiler Alert
20:46 May 01 2009
Times Read: 1,245

Production on the second film based on the Twilight books has reportedly been halted following claims Meyer is facing legal action from her former college roommate, who is said to have accused the writer of basing the books on her ideas.



According to I'mnotobsessed.com, Heidi Stanton - who studied alongside Meyer at Brigham Young University, Utah - claims the vampire books are similar to a short story she wrote when she was a student there.



Stanton filed her lawsuit against Meyer in Utah last Tuesday, alleging idea infringement.



She states in the papers, "Quite frankly, I was shocked when I began watching the movie with my husband last week. I immediately told him that she got that idea from me! I wrote a fictional short story with the same ideas when we were in college together."



Meyer claims the premise for the popular series came to her in a dream in 2003 and she completed the first novel three months later.

Rape, a joke?
12:55 May 01 2009
Times Read: 1,245

Now there’s a lot of thing’s I think I am, but a prude is not one of them.

But, in the early hours of the 1st of May, I looked to the left and the drivel in the Vampbox and left a message **leaves a hand grenade for the rapist**

I was already tired from voluntary work and to see someone joking in a role-play sort of way about rape nauseated me. And, that in itself is intriguing.

I often wonder what I would take to offend me, now I know and, if anyone is interested as to who makes jokes about rape, just PM me, I’ll tell you.

As it was, I went to bed, shortly after leaving my ‘hand-grenade,’ feeling sickened that someone could make jokes about such a thing!!!



BTW: they’re female. Does that make joking about rape okay?? I don’t think so.