Category: Random

I’d just like to say hello to Ralph. Yes, Ralph, it’s quite good. If you keep working on it, you might have something worth reading one day!

I applied for some freelance work a few days back on the basis that it would be a convenient way to earn some money while looking for work and / or writing some freelance journalism. The job I applied for was supposed to be three or four weeks, three or four days a week. I thought it would be a terribly convenient activity – not requiring too much intellectual or time commitment, and getting me over a difficult working period. I would still, in other words, have time for interviews, writing and preparing myself for whatever the job-to-come would be. However, now they want me to learn JSP, work five days a week for four weeks and organise myself as a ‘sole trader’ through a consultation with an accountant. Suddenly the whole prospect seems considerably less appealing. I don’t know what to do.

Evidence for the debauchery of the latest blog meet courtesy of Nick Jordan’s Gallery. Filling in for Meg‘s crushing inadequacy as a photographer (being outside London is not a suitable excuse), he snapped all of us looking at our absolute best. My mood of the day is best represented by these few gorgeous picture: .Be warned, I have slept little and am fractious, You are all my bitches and Thank God, he’s finally put that camera down … oh JEEZ!

The Stalker: [Game One] I will be at Farringdon tube at 1pm today. A prize to anyone who manages to take a picture of me without my knowledge.

In the 36 hours since the Barbelith Underground relaunched, the upgraded site informs me that it has generated around 20,000 page impressions. I had no idea.

Another unprompted e-mail arrives from Big. I’m completely fascinated by what might be going on in his head. On a related note I have decided that I don’t seem to have any healthy relationships with men which might develop into anything more interesting or long-term. I realised this was getting serious when I was resizing images of people who work at CABE, stumbled upon a picture of a fairly foxy bloke, and started wandering off into the furthest corners of my mind. [Anyone from CABE out there?] Anyway – it’s all come together to present only one solution to my current dilemma. I’m putting out an appeal to the world: Find me a boyfriend.

So after 2001 last night, my flatmate drove me eight-tenths of the way to Meg‘s house so I could sell her my printer. I was quite delighted by this since it meant I could either eat for another week or I could have a play with that excellent prostitute who has been scoping me out in Soho recently. Oh, hang on a minute. There’s something wrong there…

When I arrived, we regaled each other with tales of woe and frustration for a while, before our life crapulence one-up-man-ship palled. Then we had Thai food out of a silver packet and looked on in horrified silence at the film that Luke was watching. Every ten minutes I’d turn my stupified face away from Titus and towards Meg, at which point I’d ask quietly, “Is it just me that thinks this film is totally fucked up?!”. She merely rolled her eyes.

After a while even this new game palled, so we ran into Davo‘s bedroom, and I rolled around on his bed, and we smoked lots and let our minds run free like Caribou bouncing free across the plains of insanity. We talked of Tom Wopat and how rough he looked after quitting his long-running TV show, and how we weren’t entirely convinced by his new career choice. We had a listen to one of his country songs. Later, Luke did too, but he didn’t find it as funny as we did. We talked about the worst people in the world to cover Radiohead’s Karma Police. (I still put my money on Wizzard.) We determined that I was a feminist and that Meg was insane (scientifically proven fact). We ran and we danced among the flotsam and jetsum of out digital lives, scattering bon mots like candies to the poor and needy children around us. And we laughed and laughed until our lungs burst and we collapsed to the green grass – a camera above us, recording the satisfied, almost sexual, looks on our faces…

The I went home and watched television, reinstalled a web bulletin board and got to sleep about three-thirty in the morning. [Meg’s version of events]

Four Webloggers That I Definitely Would:

• Katy
• Matt
• Mo
• Mark

Is it normal to have a one hour interview for what might turn out to be at most three or four weeks of part-time freelance HTML work? Maybe I talk too much. Your opinion?

About a week ago, the Barbelith Underground finally gave up the ghost. But now it’s all fresh and new once more – reinstalled and virginal. Reintroduce yourself to the most creative politically futurist subcultural community on the web today.