Friday

official squaxx dex thargo!

"If we need a special school for homosexuals, maybe we need a special school for little short fat kids, because they get picked on too" is the view of Mike Long, chairman of the Conservative Party in New York.

last night, Laurence and i were watching the doom 2 14:41 video, with a fine tooth comb. verdict: impossible. although the movie is a tremendous feat of skill, some of the actions performed are simply impossible. Our Hero moves far too quickly, sometimes at unbelievable speeds. after L went to bed, i experimented with the turbo boost on doom95, and even the maximum boost of 400 isn't as quick as the player (and at that speed, the controls fuck up). sometimes he runs through gaps far too thin to fit through (e.g. nirvana) or solid walls (the refuelling base) and picks up the yellow keycard on the factory through a wall. and on monster condo, he opens a red door without the key. what's that about? i tried to copy his rocket jump on the waste tunnels for a while too - it seems technically possible, but i couldn't replicate it, and i doubt anyone could do what he does in one life - at times he's down to 1% health, and surely only survives through luck. it could be programmed; more likely, it's a patch job of various attempts (i'm looking at some others now), but that doesn't explain the imp-ossible bits.

so i had a dream of tooth ache (clearly inspired by Jess), my tooth was loose and like a milk tooth but very painful, i couldn't stop fiddling with it, and then when i woke up i saw sure it was still loose. and then; something amazing happened. lying there in bed, i heard a tapping on my phone. i looked over at it, but there was nothing there. it was half 8; i thought about getting up. but it kept happening. i'd lie in bed, and the tapping would keep coming back, it was the sound of someone rapping their fingernails on the plastic coating, i'd swear. but when i looked it was just my phone, looking back at me. after two hours of this, i got the message and got out of bed. the tapping stopped.

and so.. Dublin.
James made me go. he said i could stay at his, we'd do work, it'd be nice. it was all true. we set out gone six on friday night, and stopped in sometown somewhere while looking for petrol at an organic pizzeria for dinner; had the big bowl of sloppy pasta i'd been craving. we drove on; while james' driving is technically good, his actual driving is questionable. changing lanes at the last minute (often when i'd pointed out we were in the wrong lane), missing turn-offs, using his knee, doing three times the speed limit... i only properly feared for my life once, though, when he tried to pull in between two trucks as our lane was being terminated. got to his house in county Meath at about seven in the morning.

might write some more of this later. i should get going home.


oh yeah, and the trial and error records night tonight was cancelled, due to lack of licence. oh well. never mind, because it's Jordan's birthday tonight, and 'November spawned a Mozzer' tomorrow night at the penthouse (is 3 hours of morrisey enough?). i'll see you there.

i liked Stanley Donward better before he sold out and started making xmas cards.
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