Zaxlog

Feb 28, 2005 at 19:00 o\clock

The Pointless tale continues

by: zax

Mood: missing someone i shouldnt be missing
Listening to: customers being annoyed!

Where were we?  Oh yes Julia had been idly flicking through the local rag whilst I had been reading the mail. Suddenly she jumped out of her seat and exclaimed "this is it! This is the answer we've been looking for."  Instantly all eyes were on Julia, who it seemed had frozen mid exclamation. "Look" she said, pointing at the door. We all turned to see the by now familiar silvery mist seeping under the door of the library.  Without further ado all of us jumped up and started running towards the secret exit.  The surprise on the checkout girls face was a wonderful sight as we all clambered out from the secret passageway under her desk.  Nothing however compared to the look on her colleagues face as four beleagured looking antiheroes jump up from between the legs of the assistant next to her.  Tony, being the last out of the hatch, slammed and bolted it behind us but we had no doubt that the beast would follow.  Things like doors and bolts not usually causing much of an obstacle for ethereal mists.  he only thing we could think to do was to keep moving as quickly as possible as the beast was obviously tracking us in some way.  Luckily for us there was a red Camaro parked outside co-op with the keys in the ignition and the engine idling.  Not that I would advocate casual theft, what with all the dangers that usually come with it such as broken noses and police records.  But this time it was an emergency.  Launching myself behind the wheel the others soon followed me in.  I put the vehicle in gear and stamped on the gas, leaving the co-op in a cloud of burning rubber smoke.  The tyres were screeching as we flew down the road. Looking in the rear view mirror I saw the Beast of Drof-D'ar come floating out of the co-op doorway, it started to drift towards the car but we were accelerating away from the shop at an unbelievable rate and pretty soon it was but a memory, and considering the general state of my short term memory it wasn't even that for long.  In fact Tony and Julia (and the hitherto un-named 4th character) had to remind me that we were escaping from a fate worse than death as I had slowed down and was happily gazing at the arrangement of trees and flowers in a nearby park.  We took the main route out of town and before long we were cruising through the devonshire countryside.  Due to the excitement of the escape we had forgotten the pressing news that Julia had uncovered in the newspaper.  Pulling over in a deserted layby (this in itself was quite a feat due to the increasing number of dogging couples, triples, quadruples that seemed to be searching for pleasure in the backs of other peoples vehicles on this fine and sunny afternoon.)

oh and the end of work again dictates that we will have to wait until 2moro to find out what Julia found in the local rag.

Feb 24, 2005 at 11:13 o\clock

Just how i feel most days!

by: zax

Mood: happy to be sharing!
Listening to: fingers on keyboards!!

http://www.blogigo.co.uk/zax/entry/21/beatday.jpg

Feb 24, 2005 at 11:08 o\clock

Beauty of a different kind, in equation form

by: zax

Mood: Girls of the world ain't nothing but trouble
Listening to: nowt

http://www.blogigo.co.uk/zax/entry/20/GIRLSequalsEVIL.jpg

Feb 24, 2005 at 10:58 o\clock

Hey, something beautiful I created myself!! Not just nonsense

by: zax

Mood: quiet and calm
Listening to: silence through my headset

http://www.blogigo.co.uk/zax/entry/19/heavenandhelldone.jpg

Feb 23, 2005 at 11:56 o\clock

My mate John

by: zax

Mood: no laughing matter, like dark matter but better

http://www.blogigo.co.uk/zax/entry/18/JH1.jpg

Feb 23, 2005 at 11:53 o\clock

Domino's hell

by: zax

Mood: much better now im back on the tablets
Listening to: the clicking and whirring sounds from the clockwork pidgeons in my head

 

When the pizza takes just too long to arrive!

http://www.blogigo.co.uk/zax/entry/17/diepizzaboy.jpg

Feb 23, 2005 at 11:50 o\clock

Oh boy, these are good!

by: zax

Mood: giggling at pictures
Listening to: the bloody raquet in this office (tennis raquet that is, full of good stories if a little violent)

Puppys taste like chicken, does that mean chicken tastes like puppies??

Coders end!

 

 

Feb 21, 2005 at 19:03 o\clock

Monday, too busy to mention

by: zax

Mood: finishing up
Listening to: cleaners cleaning

Well hows about that then, a blinding (almost literally) weekend with a bunch of mates.  I will continue the ridiculous story soon, i promise (myself)

Feb 17, 2005 at 13:45 o\clock

He He

by: zax

Mood: laughin now!
Listening to: munching lunching sounds

2 Scousers are riding along the M62 from Manchester to Liverpool on a motorbike.

They break down and start hitching a lift. A friendly trucker stops to
see if he can help and the scousers ask him for a lift. He tells them he
has no room in the wagon as he is carrying 20,000 bowling balls but will
take a look at the bike for them. He tries everything he knows but is
unable to repair it.

Time is getting on now and he's late for his delivery so he tells the
scousers he has to leave.

"R hey lad" they say "gissa lift".

The trucker once again explains that he has no room as he is carrying
20,000 bowling balls. The scousers put it to the driver that if they can
manage to fit in the back will he take them and he agrees.

They manage to squeeze themselves and their motorbike into the back of
the wagon so the driver shuts the doors and gets off on his way.

By this time he is really late and so puts his foot down.

Sure enough PC Plod of Greater Manchester Police pulls him up for
speeding.

The good officer asks the driver what he is carrying to which he
replies Scouse Eggs.

The policeman obviously doesn't believe this so wants to take a look.
He opens the back door and quickly shuts it and locks it.

He gets onto his radio and calls for immediate backup from as many
officers as possible. The dispatcher asks what emergency he has that
requires so many officers.

"I've got a wagon with 20,000 Scouse eggs in it - 2 have already
hatched and the *******s have managed to nick a motorbike already

Feb 14, 2005 at 19:05 o\clock

Its the end of the world as we know it......oh no my mistake just the end of work!

by: zax

Mood: none
Listening to: nothing

Reading about the previous adventures of the Beast of Drof-D'ar and its foray into world politics, our heroes became slightly happier knowing that it had been defeated once before.  We all ignored the fact that it had led to the loss of millions of lives from countries all across the globe.  Still, our spirits were perked a little by the knowledge that the beast was defeatable.  Until we realised that the resolution to it's previous release had been brought about by the recapture of the beast in the vial of K'ram.  The vial that was no longer available due to its interaction with tonys backside.  Our first problem was finding out exactly where the only other vessel capable of holding such a beast was hiding.  The Penguin book was a little unspecific on that particular point.  Stating that the vial could be found at the highest point of the worlds tallest underground mountain.  None of us had a clue as to what this cryptic location could mean, but set our minds thinking in an effort to solve the puzzle.  Tony thought it could be the secret underground missile base that the Koreans had built in the Myohyang mountains but we dismissed that immediately, for if the koreans had found the vial we wouldn't stand a chance of getting it back anyway.  No there had to be an easier way to find the replacement vial that we needed, and so put an end to the Beast of Drof-D'ar (and hopefully this pointless tale I hear from the audience).  Just as we were pondering what this troublesome clue could mean I heard a loud clatter and clang from upstairs that signalled the arrival of the morning post and perhaps the paper.  I left my comfortable chair and legged it up the stairs.  Strange that the arrival of post still excites me after all these years. Must be something about unexpected contact with the outside world (Gets lonely here in my padded room, even imaginary access to the outside world is better than nothing!) Sure enough, along with the post was the local paper.  I chucked the paper to Julia, intent as I was on opening the selection of brown and white envelopes that the postman had brought me.  Nothing but bills and junk as usual.  Whilst i'm happily reading through the special offers available at disneyland (apparantly America had freed up a few dollars by decommisioning a few more warheads - see below) Julia had been idly flicking through the local rag.  Check this out --- more 2moro

Feb 11, 2005 at 19:06 o\clock

Captain Birdseye? Theres a problem!

by: zax

Mood: It's friday, You guess!
Listening to: Co and Ca again

I was asked today how come Captain Birdseye gets to live on such a small island with so many children? Are they all his? But new ones arrive regularly?? Where do they come from? Is the child slave trade alive and well???  Is Captain Birdseyes Island in the middle of The lake in Neverland??

Feb 11, 2005 at 13:17 o\clock

A second aside

by: zax

Mood: Growing
Listening to: Lunchtime calling!

Started an offshoot page today with less random crap and more nice ideas. check it out at:

 www.blogigo.co.uk/zax1

Feb 11, 2005 at 11:44 o\clock

A Brief Interlude from the madness....er.... i mean story!

by: zax

Mood: filled with hope
Listening to: the slow but sure beating of my heart

You're convinced that America is spending billions on missiles and hi-tech guidance systems? Not so. We are saving billions.  How, you ask?  I looked him in the eye, not a smile.

How? He asked

Ivan, our missiles have no guidance systems! We don't even put engines in them. Only warheads.  The rest is cardboard and paint.  Long before Chernobyl, we were smart enough to know, it doesn't matter where the warheads go off!

He looked at me solemn as a judge. It doesn't matter?

I shook my head.  We crafty Americans realised two facts.  First, we knew that wherever we put a missile silo we weren't building a launch site, we were building an impact site!  As soon as we turn the first shovel of dirt for the place we know you have it targetted for five hundred megatons.  Second, Chernobyl was a little tiny nuclear accident on the other side of the world, not one hundreth of one warhead, but six days later we were dumping milk in Wisconsin, straining out your gamma rays!

The Russian arched a heavy eyebrow. So you realised....

I nodded.  With ten million megatons to explode against each other, who cares where they go off? Everybody dies!  Why spend billions for rockets and computers?  First Soviet missile launched against us, we'll fix you....we'll blow up New York and Texas and Florida, and you're doomed!  Meanwhile you go broke building missiles.  I look at him, sly as a coyote.  Where do you think we got the money to build Disneyland?

Feb 10, 2005 at 19:11 o\clock

Oh happy thursday, you lovely day before friday, the TRUE start to the weekend!!!!

by: zax

Mood: Sever the limbs of the torso in sleep
Listening to: My eyeballs pounding inside my head

More reading revealed that if by some chance misfortune the priceless vial of K'ram was to be broken and the Beast of Drof-D'ar released into the world there would be only one chance for the poor unfortunate that had released it.  Collection of the only other vessel capable of holding the beast, then retrapping it was necessary for the safety of its first victim, not to mention the slaughter that would ensue once the first victim had been possesed.  According to the Penguin Book of Artificial Monsters for Cunning Linguists, once the first victim had been fully posessed they would kill anyone that had witnessed the transformation before attempting to rise to a suitable position of power with which to enslave the whole Human race.  The book wasn't too specific about what the Beast intended to DO with the Human race once it had been enslaved, but hey whats good for a whole bunch of other authors is good enough for me!  The book did specify though that the last time the Beast of Drof-D'ar managed to break free of its bonds it was released by one A. Hitler, A little known Austrian painter who was looking for something beautiful to put some flowers in for his next commission.  Rummaging around in his grandmothers attic he came across a pretty gold and glass vial.  Thinking (quite rightly as it happens) that it would make a perfect vase once he removed the lid and arranged it in an aesthetically pleasing way with a plate of figs and a small blue teacup.  The look on his face must have been priceless as he wrenched the stopper from the vial, releasing the evil within on first himself and then by proxy onto the rest of the world.  Luckily for the world the only other person who knew what was going on was Adolf's old friend from an exchange trip to an art college in london, one Winston Churchill.  Winston (originally named William) had been big into toking the herb, hence the name change, and many a night they had spent talking of what they would do if they ran the world or at the very least ran their own respective countries.  Talk soon turned to how this could be made possible using magic (both boys were VERY stoned and more than a little in awe of the Lord of the Rings). With slightly less research than our present heroes had undertaken (libraries were more free with their restricted books back then) this troublesome twosome soon discovered a particular Penguin book that schlocky wannabe authors tend to draw ideas from (OI!!) and discovered within information concerning the vial of K'ram and the Beast of Drof-d'ar.  Strangely enough (considering the current version of 20th century history) it was Winston who was most enthusiastic about finding the vial and attempting to use the Beast to his own ends.  Adolf on the other hand was not so enamoured of this plan, thinking it dangerous and quite possibly foolhardy.  Nevertheless the two teenagers spent a happy gap year wandering about ancient ruins in Cambodia, poking their adolescent noses into things that adolescent noses enjoy being poked into. At the end of the year no vial had been found but the boys had enjoyed their time in foreign climes and came back slightly older, wiser and browner than they had gone away.  Both boys went back to their respective countries and thought no more of the adventures they had enjoyed. (More on these adventures in Winston and Adolf, the early years. Coming soon to a Blog  near here!) Little did they know what the future would hold for them.  Winston continued to smoke large quantities of mind-blowing African Bushweed, though instead of the joints that he used to favour he transferred his smoking interests to Blunts which were more easily concealed and drew less unwanted interest within the political circles he began to move in.  Meanwhile, Adolf gave up the demon weed altogether, forgot about becoming the leader of the world and got on with his painting.  It's strangely ironic that many years later Adolf should be the one to stumble across the vial, even more ironic is the fact that he had no idea by then that the vial he had found was none other than the vial of K'ram that he and his friend from the distant past had spent that happy summer searching for!  Interesting then that the two friends should become such sworn enemies.  Uh oh end of work looms large and happy on the immediate horizon of my time, the adventure will grow 2moro.

Feb 9, 2005 at 17:14 o\clock

The further adventures of Wednesday and all those other days in between

by: zax

Mood: Pull the trigger and the nightmare stops....
Listening to: the sound of the hammer locking into postition

If you remember back to the first installment, the vial that we required to solve this predicament in which we find ourselves was the very same vial that Tony had smashed in said first installment.  As you can imagine, from the point of view of a writer this puts me in a little bit of a pickle.  How am I going to resolve what is so obviously an unresolvable conundrum, how do I bring something back into the story that has already (by my own hand as it were) been destroyed??  Aha my dear reader that is what literary artifice is all about. Read on and we shall see!

Further reading through the Penguin Book of Artificial Monsters for Cunning Linguists (for such was the title of the book that Julia had found the answer to our predicament within) told us that if by some chance misfortune the mystical and priceless vial of K'Ram was broken then the dreaded Beast of Drof-D'ar would be released back into the world from which it had been banished.  The Beast of Drof-D'ar would immediately attempt to take over the body of the hapless fool that had disturbed its sleep.  "Ahhh" we exclaimed as one, followed up swiftly with a group "eh?" as we realised that it was Tony that had broken the vial and not Julia.  Confusion threatened to reign supreme but luckily, with a presence of mind none would have previously credited her with, Julia turned the page.  It transpired that the Beast of Drof-D'ar was a singularly short sighted beast and that in the confusion surrounding our exit from the scene of the crime, once it had fully awoken the only person the beast saw clearly was Julia as she was sat in the 4x4 without a mask on.  Continued, as ever, 2moro

Feb 8, 2005 at 18:40 o\clock

Tuesday? Why didnt we come up with 365 different names for days? Time wouldn't feel so fucking tedious if we had used an ounce of imagination in the first place!

by: zax

Mood: tired of it all
Listening to: the silence behind my eyes

Luckily for us there was a well stocked library in the hidden cavern below my ground floor flat.  I had been secretly tunneling it for months when i stumbled into a network of underground passageways built by an ancient tebetian monk sect that believed the only true way to enlightenment was through the virtue of hollowing out the shell of the planet in an attempt to collapse the crust accross the whole of the Earth.  The supposed fruits of this hard (and most probably futile) labour were that due to the reduced circumference of the planet, the gravitational rotation of the Earth would increase, making the planet spin faster, thus speeding up time and therefore bringing forward the second coming of Buddha (no i'd never heard of it either). But thanks to their efforts I had a library that spanned the length of my street with extra side rooms for guests and an emergency escape hatch that also doubled as a shortcut to the local Co-Op.
    Decamping back to my library we set about the task of finding out whatever we could about the silvery ethereal mist that had escaped from the broken Incan vial and so recently mentally violated our good friend Julia.  Progress was slow as the amount of books in the library meant that the creation of decent size piles for the right book to just fall off of was taking ages.  Clearly what was needed was a joke concerning the silvery ethereal mist and one of our close friends.  Or failing that a slightly more realistic method of research wouldnt go amiss.
    Julia was the one who stumbled on the answer, which was pleasantly ironic seeing as she was the only one of us to have been adversely affected by the extraneous events that occured during our otherwise wholly successfull robbery.  Unfortunately the fix for the problem involved us having access to the little gold and glass vial that had served as a home and prison for the unruly spirit that Tony had unwittingly set free oh so many paragraphs ago. Dammit work ends so soon - more on the morrow.

Feb 7, 2005 at 19:06 o\clock

Monday again

by: zax

Mood: Fine and dandy
Listening to: nothing

    We returned to our seats around the campfire, all of us a little traumatised by the events of the last ten minutes.  we wrapped Julia up in a blanket, not because she was cold but because we wanted her to know that we cared.  Once we were all sitting comfortably and supping on a fresh stubbie we motioned for Julia to talk so that we could gain some insight into what she had been feeling whilst enveloped in the silvery mist.  Julia took a deep breath and cleared her throat, never one to begin unless her audience was giving their full attention.  Once it was apparent that we were all listening Julia told us how the first she'd noticed of the silver mist was a gentle tickling in her ear, thinking this an insect of some kind she attempted to bruch it away.  Julia explained that when she tried to do this, what she thought was an insect became more insistant finally managing to enter her ear.  From this moment on, she could remember nothing other than feeling very small and very trapped.  After a little discussion and much mentioning of films like The Exorcist and Invasion of the Body Snatchers.  We came to a joint realisation that there wasnt much we were going to be able to discern by just sitting on the beach and drinking all night.  What was needed was a buffyesque study period whereby one of us would stumble upon the required answer when a book fell onto the floor from the top of a giant pile of books after one of us had cracked some lame joke that referenced both the monster we were researching and one of our friends in the same sentence.  So, putting on hold the urge to go zooming around Europe on a motorbike bought with our pilferred cash, we packed up the camp and headed inland.  More on Tuesday.

Feb 4, 2005 at 19:08 o\clock

A tale continued....

by: zax

Mood: Upbeat - its friday
Listening to: the leprechauns chattering

Looking on in wonder as Julia leapt to her feet, I saw out of the corner of my eye a glint of fine silver mist around her ankles.  As I looked more intently the mist seemed to become still before disappearing up the leg of Julia's hipsters.  Just then Julia started to twitch and shake.  The rest of us were stunned into silence for a moment before coming to our senses, jumping up and rushing to see what aid we could give.  Julia by this time had started running in a curiously manic fashion down towards the sea.  It seemed that part of her was desperate to get into the water whilst another altogether different part of her was trying to keep her feet on dry land.  Considering the amount of beer we had consumed it is surprising that we didn't find the occasion more comical.  Maybe it was the strange rasping sound coming from her throat that forced any ideas of humour from our minds as she lurched past, or perhaps it was the look of terror on her face as her body headed uncontrollably towards the sea.  Leaping to my feet I ran after Julia, reaching her just before she reached the sea.  I spun her around and recoiled immediately for Julias eyes were no longer the beautiful blue colour that had entranced the attention of so many men.  Now the blue had been replaced with that same silvery mist that we had seen in the vault!  She seemed to be attempting to tell me something and reached out with her left hand.  With a speed that was beyond human, Julia's hand locked itself around my throat.  I instinctively grabbed her hand whilst simultaneously trying to push her away from me but her grip was like iron and her skin was so cold it almost burned to touch.  Tony had reached us by this time and taking a swift appraisal of the situation tried to pull Julia away from me.  Julia was having none of this and shrugged him off as though he was made of air, which considering the size of Tony was no mean feat!  Tony, not to be dissuaded by this, ran a little way down the beach to grab a large piece of drifwood.  Without a seconds hesitation, Tony clouted Julia accross the back of the head with his makeshift club sending Julia sprawling and unconcious onto the sand.  Released from Julia's vice like grip I slumped down into the sand clutching my throat.  Tony dropped his natural bat and helped me to my feet.  As we walked to where Julia had fallen both of us saw the unmistakable trace of silvery mist seep from her ears and drift off into the night.
    Once Julia had come round and Tony had apologised to her for the clouting he gave her we set to talking about the incident with the mist.  Julia, having come into direct contact with this strange entity was understandably a little traumatised though willing to explain what it felt like. -  More on Monday

Feb 3, 2005 at 19:05 o\clock

Thursday - A tale to tell

by: zax

Mood: happy as larry
Listening to: myself talking

zippedy do da zippedy ay, my oh my what a wonderful day.  Plenty of sunshine coming my way, zippedy do da, zippedy ay.  Oh roll on summer, so many plans so little time, so little money. Not gonna rob a bank this time.  Learnt my lesson from that incident a couple of years back.  The summer was good but at what a cost! Unwittingly, during the robbery Tony inadvertantly knocked a large Incan vial from one of the shelves in the vault. As if in slow motion, we all watched mesmerised as the gold and glass vial tumbled gently towards the ground, seeming to float serenely downwards before rupturing violently on the cold stone floor of the vault.  Tony spun round in time to see what he had done.  With the sound of the smashing glass came also a hissing sound as if water was being forced through a tiny gap or sand running into an empty container.  A silvery ethereal mist was swirling around the remains of the vial. It looked as if the mist was somehow examining the broken glass shards and twisted golden remains.  As we all stood there dumbfounded watching, the mist started to rise, spinning as it went until it had formed into a floor to ceiling pillar of spinning silver mist. At this point the sound of screaming sirens from outside broke our spell of silence.  We grabbed the sacks which we had stuffed with cash and as one the entire team ran for the door.  Leaving the bank through the back door as planned, we leapt into the 4x4 waiting for us outside.  Julia, who already had the engine running, stepped on the gas and we sped off into the night.  Arriving back at the hideout an hour later we divided the spoils of our endeavor amongst ourselves.  A cool £40,000 each.  Not bad for a month of planning and a single harrowing evening, or so we thought. 
    About a month into our extended summer break we were relaxing on a quiet, out of the way beach at Sennen cove in Cornwall.  We had been living it up for the past four weeks.  Travelling, surfing, drinking and generally living the life we chose.  No one was any the wiser as to the identities of the four masked bank raiders who had left the bank vault that night with bags full of purloined cash.  Nothing in the papers mentioned anything about the broken Incan vial, though there were plenty of pictures of Tony's big orange backside which he had pointed comically at the cameras on the way out.  Needless to say none of us had really spoken about the event with the swirling ethereal mist.  Something about the whole event didnt sit right with the group and it seemed like we had made some silent agreement not to talk about it.  But that was all to change.
    That evening we were all sat around the campfire drinking stubbie stellas and wondering aloud about jumping on a ferry to france, buying some motorbikes and cruising around Europe for a bit.  Without any hint of a reason Julia suddenly jumped up from the log on which she was sat.  The rest of us turned around, startled by this sudden activity.  Julia, the moment she was on her feet began to run towards the sea - Continued 2moro.

Feb 2, 2005 at 14:40 o\clock

Wednesday - The day that should be a day off.

by: zax

Mood: Waiting for the weekend
Listening to: The pitiful whining of the mice and earwigs that have become trapped within the infernal interior of my computer

Wednesday, that awful mid-week day.  The previous weekend is shrouded in the mists of history and the weekend coming is too far away to think about clearly.  Wednesdays should be an extra day off.  This would mean that the middle of the week would be something to look forward to.  Mind you it wouldn’t strictly be the middle of the week anymore, more like a mini mid-week break.  Not too sure what I’d use it for other than to have a lie in, maybe go for a ride, ahhh, I just thought, midweek surfing would be a joy!  Something to look forward to on Monday and Tuesday and something to recover from on Thursday and Friday! Then the weekend to do the usual weekend stuff, and back into the week again.  I’m sure that a mid week day off would make this working life much more palatable, because really its time that is important, not money.  Talking of time, I was a party to a pleasantly depressing exercise yesterday whereby I was required to work out the percentage of time each day that was spent on different tasks.  The breakdown of the day left me with the happy knowledge that in any 24 hour period I spend more time at work than I do asleep (38% of the day at work vs. 34% of the day asleep!) As the maths wizzes amongst you will have already worked out, this leaves me with only 28% of my day (which equates to approximately 7 hours) for anything else that might need to be achieved in the day.  Within these 7 hours I also have to fit in domestic chores such as eating, washing myself, cleaning my clothes, flat, car etc, and travel to and from work.  So if we knock off 3 hours for all of the above I am left with a paltry 4 hours in my day with which I can attempt to better myself, relax, read books, write, play guitar, speak to friends, go for a bike ride, listen to music, juggle, work on my business, or any of the other 1001 things that I can opt to fill my “spare” time with.  The problem I have (as you can see) is that there are far more entertaining/enjoyable/beneficial tasks to be involved in than I have time left in the day for.  Now if I could manage to extricate myself from the need to work everyday I could get a lot more done.  Wait, that last sentence needs modifying.  I don’t have a need to work.  What I have is a need to eat food and sleep in a bed under a roof with walls.  So from this I can surmise that if I can satisfy my needs using only the smallest amount of hours per day, I would have all the other hours left to fill with the better things in life.  So the search is on.  Where can I find a job that only takes perhaps 3 hours a day to earn the amount of money required to keep my flat, eat, let me surf and do any other fun activity I choose?  If anyone has any answers (comical or sensible) leave them in the guestbook, if nothing else it’ll give me a laugh!  But until then I guess that I’m stuck with this 9 til 6 madness.  It’s that special place where time is stretched so that it takes longer to pass than anywhere else on the planet.  But at least the jokes are good, have you heard the one about a pirate, a parrot, a pilot, a pimp and the pope all go into a bar?? Thought not!!