Ok, joined up on Faceparty again, after a long break (because it's a soulless cattle market) and already the spam's started. Read this message for an example....

"Hi my new friend. My name is Kristina. I am 27 years old. Let me introduce myself... I like warm and tender sea. My room is like a green garden. On mornings I lay in bed and like to dream. I think I am sentimental and I like to cry on a romantic drama, but sometimes love to laugh a lot and hardly sarcastic. When I play with children I feel like a child. I suppose I am a sufficient house-keeper. From time to time I just take cooking book or recipes of my mum and prepare something especial. I can't stand disorder in the house, and if I notice anything that seems to be in the wrong place. I am a creative by nature and capable on Self-feedback, it depends on the situation. I hope that I have made a good impression on you, and you can not pass such a girl as me. So I hope that we both can find common things. Well what? Let's check up. Write me on my email kristinachkaa@gmail.com and i sent my picture to you in my reply to you. Hope to hear from you soon, Kristina."

Apparently, she's like a warm and tender sea. What? Stinks of salt and fish? And if her room's like a green garden, she really needs to get around to washing the sheets, even if it's on an irregular basis. Even more sinister..."When I play with children I feel like a child"....now, statements like that over here are likely to earn you 8 years and several serious beatings, luv! And "recipes of my mum"....do I ask for a tender piece of breast or a big 'ol serving of Old Lady Buttock?!

Rule One on the World Wide Weird: If you're going to scam, don't pick random words out of the dictionary; learn the lingo and put the effort in. If there's anything that sticks in the throat worse than a scammer, it's one that can't even be arsed to put the effort in.

Rule Two: Get someone well versed in English to read the final result before you post it. If said person informs you that you sound like a raggedy nailed forthy lunatic, take note.

Ginger beards and strings

The picture at left....the first thing I saw on Saturday morning. If you see this lurking in your bedroom door in the wee hours, you really have drunk too much beer and need to re-affirm your lifestyle. He kipped at my place with the girl he picked up; he did some very adult things on my BLACK sofa bed.I'm still in two minds on whether or not to drag it outside and torch it.

It's 9:30 in the evening and for some reason I'm feeling really bouncy and chirpy. It's not a good way to be at this time in the evening, personally speaking I'd rather be feeling lethargic yet relaxed and at peace with the world. Something tells me I'm not going to be sleeping well tonight!

Today has been Guitar Day - I usually get some playing in every day because things start to slip if the practice stops. The regime today; loosened off the truss rod in the Prince acoustic, because the string action's gone finger snappingly high. Playing should be a happy experience, not something that's liable to leave me with chronic RSI. Wanted to drop the action on the electric as well, but not got an allen key small enough to fit, so that'll have to wait till the weekend. Cyndi Lauper's Time after Time is now down pat, as are the opening bars to Stone Sours Zyzzyx Road (horribly technical and requiring the growth of extra fingers on the left hand).

The tips of my left hand are now rock hard again, of which I'm obscenely proud even if it does feel wierd and freaky when you stroke 'em :)

The Wicker Dog

I don't learn many lessons throughout the average day, but right up at number one I'm going to put "don't set fire to police sniffer dogs". Big crack down around SkegVegas on Saturday night, police were out in abundance, replete with girl friendly border collie (rather than man eating German Shepherd). Here's me and the Waynster, minding out own business in the V-Bar. Obviously, with shaven heads and that "most likely to be arrested" look about us, we're chosen as the first to have our groins sniffed by another species. Dog goes behind me for my back pockets, catches the end of my fag and stands there dumbly with its snout raising a cloud of burning hair. Cue me and one of said coppers slapping the dog on the head trying to put it out. The policeman was in no way pleased with me. Not aided or abbetted by Wayne trying to chat one of the nice police ladies up. What is wrong with the bloke?!

Whilst Saturday nights (or in this weekends case, every night) are all very good, I'm starting to move into that mind-set that lives for the weekend and tries to wish the week away. I know exactly what's doing it; too much free time during the week, no-one around and me a social creature that craves human contact. Don't get me wrong, I'm perfectly capable of occupying myself and have my head into literally everything, but I miss being around people. I WANT to get back to work but can't; my manager's written a letter to say I'm dangerous in the warehouse whilst still fitting. Apparently impromptu breakdancing whilst guiding 8 tons of industrial lathe into position may cause my own death and take someone else with me. I'm burning very little energy off during the day and sleeping badly. It's pants!

I want to get back to some kind of balance. Whilst I'm in no way going to give up the social life I've carved out for myself of late (missed that like fook over the past year or two) I need that working week routine badly.

Half cut

After a morning of feeling like death warmed over, packed in an airtight tub then placed in the fridge (yup, it's a cold flat), I collapsed face down on the bed and slept all the way through to 4 in the afternoon. Fantastic night ouy; Kim arrived about 3 yesterday afternoon, got on like a house on fire; she's very talkative, very animated and just a top chick all round. Amazingly, after 4 years talking on the net, exactly how I'd imagined her, most people put up a bit of a front or persona one here, but non of that. Met up with Wayne in the Marina and basically went on the lash around town. Mr Wayne you twat; don't bite my finger just because I'm attracted to your beard and felt the need to stroke it! Superb night all round, SkegVegas was heaving. Cassy! Very well met (a facebook thing), the lass who asked me if I was a pirate then gave me a random hug, even the girl who robbed a drink out of me when Wayne mistook her for someone else (I appreciate cunning)....all well met indeed :)

My breasts are rotting!

It was Monday night when I truly appreciated the fact that I'm utterly free; I needed to get into a tin of new potatoes but couldn't find the tin opener. There I was, squatting on the kitchen floor in a pair of ragged old underpants and socks, hammer and chisel in hand, battering four bales of fuck out of a tin that appeared to be made of Fort Knox. Very much like an evolving chimp who's just found out you can get the meat out by battering the carcass with a big rock. As the tears of frustration rolled down my face, I started cackling to myself; freedom is going nekkid in your flat in underpants with a hole in the arse!

Spent this morning cleaning this gaff up. I've got Kim, a web mate who I've chatted to for nigh on 4 years but never met coming to stay over on Saturday, and I'm really looking forward to it. We're off out on a serious bender around SkegVegas. So, quick clean up around the place; I opened the fridge and rediscovered the chicken breasts I bought the week after christmas, slowly degenerating in a stew of rotting juices. Shows how often I go in my fridge; I nearly passed out on the spot, followed by retching noises as I swabbed it down with bleach. Absolutely feckin' gopping.

Had a good natter with my bro over skype, perfect sound quality and no delay; I was half expecting the equivalent of talking to Joey Deacon on Mars. Really good to hear him, he's off for his driver testing (-28 outside, snow on the ground and driving on the wrong side).