i don't know what to do i have this problem... you see, i can write something, anything; "britney spears dies in plane crash" for example, and it comes true. no wait, i mean, almost instantly i start getting hits from it. do you know how many people want to download harry potter and the order of the phoenix? i do, because they all come here looking for it. it's on amazon for £10, you filfthy, scavenging, mongrel, dirtbag pus-sacks!
anyway, i'm really frightened of trying to describe this next link, because it deals with issues that could be construed as paedobestiality. at best. so i'm going to try and encode my description, to save myself from the truly filthy and horrendous monsters out there:
holy crap! it's updatorama! okay, please, for the love of god, ignore the link in my last post to mechabreakout on this site; i'll be removing it immediately. the reason is that it's up on game phrenzy for real now, and has a working high scores table. i challenge you to defeat me.
i've made a couple of minor changes, since the version of mechabreakout that was up yesterday and most of today was a mid-bug-test version. let's call it... v1.45.29b. this meant that the cheat didn't really work out to well (during any level, while the ball is in flight, type out ROBOTNIK (case insensitive) and you will be taken straight to the boss), and when you're supposed to get to the boss after level 10, you just ended up completing the game. this has now been fixed. a couple of other bugs have come to light, which i've just figured out how to get around and will be fixed within the next couple of hours, since i'm sick to fucking death of animating the pathophysiology of mitral stenosis. and i haven't even started it.
if you are going to email me about bugs in mechabreakout, then here's a list of what not to tell me about:
1: the ball getting trapped in an indestructible block - i know. it used to annoy me, but now i kinda like it. and there's no way of fixing it anyway. and even if i could, i wouldn't. be off with you.
2: an annoying noise that sounds like the ball is trapped in an indestructible block at the start of level four - i know about this too, and i'm fixing it right now. hopefully.
3: blocks apparently getting destroyed at random at the start of a level - this is caused by exactly the same bug as number 2. i know i said this at the beginning of the list, but since we're now a couple of lines further down, let me remind you: DON'T EMAIL ME ABOUT THIS. thanks ever-so much.
4: the ball seeming to transport randomly after a colour-block nuke bomb goes off - if you haven't had one of these, don't you wish you had? anyway, because the processor shits it's pants for a second or two while a nuke goes off, the ball doesn't get redrawn properly. a flash issue, not mine.
mechabreakout, mechafun! i have put mechabreakout back online after a few months away. this will very shortly (i mean, like, minutes from now) also be avaiable on game phrenzy as a taster of what me and jon will hopefully be spending some time on over the summer.
take one felt marker, aaaand... PLUG! scrawled upon the wall of a bathroom stall, a stranger wrote a note that spoke to all; "one two, buckle my shoe, take care of me 'cause i might be you.com".
one of my favourite-ever lyrics from one big mob by the chilli peppers, although i brilliantly added ".com" on the end there, to make it... you know, 'with the times'.
in actual fact, i'm starting a new project, which i will call something cool, like urban links: a guide to the street superhighway. yeah, that sounds like i go to st. martin's. or maybe elitist pretentious art bullshit: here's a piece of blu-tac. what i intend to do, starting to day, and perhaps stuttering sporadically on for a couple of weeks before dying silently in a damp corner, is to post a url that i have found graffiti'd in a place that you'd perhaps not expect to find a link; for example, on the back of a toilet cubicle door, or a lampost in the middle of a street.
my definition of 'graffiti (just to make things a little easier on myself) includes web addresses written in ink, spray paint, or on stickers or posters. however, there must be no explanation of the link whatsoever. when i post these they will be completely and utterly blind, and i'm not even going to visit them; i will have absolutely no idea what i'm linking to. sounds fun, eh? so without further bullshit, let's throw ourselves into this fire:
graffiti link #1:www.hardcoresax.com. location: back of toilet cubicle door, mcdonalds, just across the road from kings cross station, london.
reserve your copy today! i received my copy of the new harry potter book, harry potter and the order of the phoenix on saturday, and prompty went on to do practically nothing but read three hundred and fifty pages of it. i read another hundred pages last night. i might try and get a bunch of hits by suggesting that i know who dies, and that i have a full online downloadable copy of the new harry potter book. but i don't. tee hee.
unless you all want to hear about cardiovascular medicine and the pathophysiology of various stenoses (i'm guessing that's the plural of stenosis. and i'm probably right.), then there's not a whole fuck of a lot i can tell you; me, mumfy, jon, annabel, yen, ben, frances, vicky, edge and olly are staying in a big country house in wales for a week. when they don't know is that one of us is a serial killer.
[note: see previous entry to find this mildly amusing. or not.]
i know i say this every year... but i fucking hate big brother. again. i don't know why people feel the need, the desire, to lock themselves away from everyone they know and love, inviting the media to harass their family and friends and publically humiliate themselves in the process, all so they can spend three or four months blagging their way into film premieres and acting like prima donnas in 'exclusive' london bars before everyone forgets they exist. again.
i can name, off the top of my head, three people from the big brother house: jon, 'nush' (sp?) and sissy. and sissy isn't in the house anymore. so i can name two people in the big brother house. and what can i tell you about these people. absolutely fuck all. and that personally makes me proud. i would be more proud of myself if i couldn't name a single person, but i don't think anyone (save for perhaps a cave-dwelling hermit) can avoid hearing names on the radio or catching a bright red headline along the lines of GIZZA KISSY SISSY! and with the bold keywords "lesbian... snog... romp... female" thrown in, just to give you the overall jist of the 'article', just in case you're in too much of a hurry to actually read the fucking thing.
so here's my question, primarily to any american readers: do they have a 'big brother' show in america? does it really fucking suck? is your media obsessed with turning the housemates into celebrities, and then cutting them into ribbons when they start acting like celebrities? who thinks that the next season of big brother should take place on an abandoned oil-rig in the north sea, and all the cameras are controlled remotely, and one of the housemates is a serial killer, and the winner is the one who survives?
ok kids, i've got work to do. tune in next week; same bit-time, same bat-channel. same bat-bullshit.
fucking hell so, when i said "buy some goddamn motherfuckin presents off my bitchass wishlist", i didn't actually mean it. but regardless, angel (pictured):
went ahead and bought me the donnie darko soundtrack! how lovely is that? i even got a card in it that says "to lawrie, from angel & co, happy birthday! well, belated by the time you get this." since it says "angel & co" on the card, i'm not sure if anyone else from now comes the girl was involved in it's purchase, but
the power of the tiny little magnet i'm such a winner. on saturday, it's emily's eldest brother's wedding. i the biggest, purplest bruise you ever sawed right across the bridge of my hooked nose. how did i do it? i'll tell you; have you ever had one of those instances where, not matter how hard you pull, the fridge and/or freezer just won't. fucking. open? that's because if you take the ratio of the earth's electromagnetic forces in the earth's core at that moment in time, divide it by your weight, times (your height minus the height of the fridge), it equals a fridge door that won't fucking open. those weedy little magnetic strips hold on for all they're worth, and refuse to let you in to get the cheese.
well, my story has nothing to do with a fridge door, but a very similar set of circumstances involving a cupboard door. it wouldn't open for me, so i pulled and pulled and pulled some more. nothing. so i smacked it, then yanked it as hard as i could, not expecting all the resistance to have disappeared completely, and smacked myself in the nose with my own hand. here's what i look like:
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