The coldest blood runs through my veins...

Saab 93 Aero: £33,000
Replacement cup holder: £150
Bodyshop repairs: £85
Two replacement tyres: £300

Having someone plough in to the back of your car whilst it's parked outside your house, burying your driver side rear wheel in to your driver side rear door: Priceless

I'm not sure if this counts, but I did put up with some poor treatment from a particularly insidious ex-colleague. I produced plenty of witty retorts and comebacks at the time but the one I regret not thinking of at the time was taking his head and putting it through the nearest fucking window.

Other than that, I'm fairly fortunate that I tend to come up with verbal retorts easily. A by-product of being a fat kid at school I guess :)

I stopped off at Tesco last night after training to pick up some food and whilst I was in there I checked to see if they had the phone I'm after in stock. It turns out that they don't, but I was asked for some help with phones by a random woman so I obliged.

She had a T-Mobile phone which was broken and she wanted to buy a replacement. She asked me if she could buy any PAYG phone, and I told her that she couldn't because they were network locked. So if she wanted to use it right away she'd have to buy a T-Mobile branded one, or wait to get it unlocked. I mentioned that unlocking can be done either online or in a shop and it usually costs about £5 - £15 depending on the model of phone and so on. I also said that some networks will unlock a phone after purchase free of charge, but that I don't know if T-Mobile do this or not.

She didn't look very impressed by this, and stood there looking at me as though I was suddenly about to say "ONLY KIDDING! PICK ANY PHONE YOU WANT, IN FACT IF YOU LIKE, TAKE MINE! TAKE IT TO THE TILL, THEY'LL CHARGE YOU A TENNER AND THEN WHEN YOU GET HOME YOU'LL HAVE FREE CALLS FOR LIFE AND THREE MALE STRIPPERS WILL TURN UP AT YOUR DOOR FOR YOUR PERUSAL! THANKS FOR SHOPPING WITH TESCO DESPITE ME HAVING NO AFFILATION OR ARRANGEMENT OF FORMAL EMPLOYMENT WITH THE AFOREMENTIONED ORGANISATION".

Since I don't like to be the bearer of bad news, I let her in on something that Hayley and I found out last year. If you go to Carphone Warehouse and find a handset you like, there will generally be a list of prices for it on PAYG, then a sim free price. So it might be something like this.

Network	Price
O2	£99.99
Orange	£129.99
T-Mobile	£159.99
Three	£169.99
Handset Only	£299.99

Anyway, the manager at CPW Banbury let me know that actually, they're all the same. If you want to buy just the handset from them, just buy the cheapest PAYG phone and they supply the same phone as the handset only version, for a lower price and you'll get a sim card to do with as you see fit. None of their phones are network locked and that's about it. So in effect, you'd end up saving £200 on the example above.

I explained all of this to her and she said "Are they open now?". I pointed out that they're not since it was 8:30pm but they would be open the following morning and at the weekend.

I got another blank look, and then she started staring at the T-Mobile PAYG phones again. At this point I shuffled off without her bothering to say thank you. Again, I don't expect a blow job for offering a bit of advice, but it'd be nice to get some kind of recognition. A thank you, or perhaps some kind of response to indicate that what I said was absorbed and digested in some way.

I get the same thing when people ask me for advice on training and putting on a bit of muscle.

Them: "How can I put on a bit of muscle? Get more like you!"
Me: (I'll cut the detail but an abbreviated version would be) "Eat more good quality food (a Twix isn't a nutritionally balanced lunch) and lift some weights"
Them: *Blank look*
Them: "I don't want to change my diet, and I don't want to lift weights..."
Them: *Blank look*
Me: "ONLY KIDDING! CONTINUE TO EAT A TWIX FOR LUNCH, DON'T LIFT WEIGHTS AND SPEND 30 SECONDS A DAY THINKING ABOUT BEING 'SWOLE'. I GUARANTEE THAT WITHIN TWO DAYS YOU'LL BE LAT-FLARING THE PANTIES OFF EVERY GIRL THAT GETS WITHIN 500 MILES OF YOUR MIND BLOWING PHYSIQUE!"

I've never really understood the approach of not liking the advice that you hear, and hoping that if you stare blankly at the person offering said advice for long enough they'll fundamentally change laws of physics, business, biology etc. to accomodate your whim.

After an incident yesterday involving an insect and Hayley's legs I need to get a replacement cup holder fitted to the car*. I guestimated about £50 or so, and was proved very wrong; Saab Oxford will supply and fit a replacement cup holder for £150. There's a specilist Saab garage just down the road from my office and they'll do it for £120 so it's booked in with them for next week. The part itself is £85 and whilst I could try fitting it myself, it's not as easy as it might seem and I don't want to damage the fascia housing the cup holder itself.

I left the house this morning and needed to refuel, and in an astonishing flash of sheer brilliance left my wallet at home. So, since I had to go back for that (as well as my laptop and football gear for tonight which I'd also forgotten) I stopped off at the Vauxhall dealership just down the road from the house to see what they'd fit a cup holder for. Since Vauxhall and Saab are both part of GM I figured it might be cheaper and more convenient.

I wandered up to the service desk, said hello and that I would like a qoute for having the drivers cup holder supplied and replaced on a 2008 Saab 93.

She screws her face up and eyeballs me like I'm a fucking moron
Her: "You want to repair a what?"

Restraining my urge to put her head through the nearest window...
Me: "The cup holder in the front of the car is broken, and I'd like to find out how much it'll cost to be replaced".

Her (Still gurning at me): "What?".

Uttering a mental "For fuck's sake..."
Me: "The cup holder in the front of my car is broken. You know, the bit that holds a cup? I want you to find out how much money it'll cost me to have one that isn't broken fitted to my car".

Her: "Wait...".

So I stood around for a while, then she returned with a colleague.

Her: "This guy wants something".

Me: "Hi. Listen, my car's outside. I'm going to show you what I'd like a quote on".

So, we go outside and I explain that my cup holder is broken and that I want a new one fitted. He asks me where the cup holder is, which is a reasonable question despite the dealership being advertised as a Saab specialist, so I open the passenger side door, slide what's left of the cup holder out of the console and point at it.

I shit you not, it took five minutes of explaining, pointing and touching the fucking cup holder to get him to understand which part I wanted replacing. Followed by a further 20 minutes as he tapped away at a computer to find the right part number. Apparently "it's changed". I'm a little confused as to how he knew this given that none of them seem to even know what a cup holder is without a labelled diagram.

The final quote? £175 - £250 depending on how long it took. Given how long it took to make them understand which part I wanted replacing I'd be erring towards £250.

I have to admit, I'm a little surprised that it's going to cost more to have a new cup holder fitted than the first annual service did!

* Just in case anyone is planning on advising me to "just leave it" I'll pre-empt you and respond in advance: "Please hold either side of your head with each hand, then twist as hard as you can until you hear a snap". Granted, a cup holder isn't the most important thing in the world by any stretch but I'm a big believer in broken window theory. I also need somewhere to put my coffee in the mornings so I don't fall asleep on the M40 and veer across all three lanes, killing everyone in my vicinity :)

To be fair, between this and the damage to my rear bumper I'm envisaging pulling up to work one day in the near future with the car in the state that Bond's DBS V12 is in the opening sequence of Quantum of Solace :D No driver's side door, scratched and battered to fuck with someone I've kidnapped in the boot :)

I'm due a phone upgrade in a couple of weeks, and I'd pretty much decided that the Sony Ericsson W715 is the phone for me. I was a little concerned since I used to swear by Sony Ericsson's but then made the mistake of buying a W910i. Within twenty minutes of turning it on I'd returned it in favour of the Nokia 6500 Slide. Which I then ended up returning in favour of a N95 8GB. I don't usually take the piss like that, but I did sign an eighteen month contract so I wanted to be happy with the phone I'd chosen.

I've always liked the N95, but I do think it's a bit chunky although admittedly this is not really a problem given my proportions. There have been times when I've wanted to slip it in to the pocket of a suit or a pair of linen trousers and it breaks the line of my clothes; not to mention breaking my pocket ;) The advantage of it is that it handles POP3 email, Exchange email, has a reasonable camera, in-built storage, GPS, 3.5mm headphone jack, a decent Web Browser, WiFi capabilities, sends SMS' and can also *gasp* make voice / video calls. Not that I've ever made a video call but if I ever wanted to pretend to be The Joker I could :)

I'd always wanted something with the capabilities of the N95 8GB but the form of the Nokia 6500 Classic. I spotted the W715 which ticks all the boxes in terms of functionality except having a 3.5mm jack (not a big deal to me really, headphones are attached with an adaptor), and it's about half the thickness of the N95 8GB. I was a little wary, since the W910i that I had was incredibly unresponsive (several seconds after pressing "Menu" the screen would show the menu) so I asked to see one running in the Vodafone store today. No lag, very responsive, good screen, nice and light. Feels robust etc.

Anyway this is where it gets odd, or at least it does to me anyway...

I can buy a W715 sim-free from Vodafone for £180. I presently have a Nokia N95 8GB which I can sell to one of a variety of online mobile phone purchasing companies for about £150. So for a week or two I'll be £30 out of pocket. I can then take the most expensive (in terms of resale value) but free (to me) phone as my upgrade which happens to be the Nokia N96. I can then leave the box sealed and sell it on eBay for £300 to £350.

I realise this isn't rocket science, and it's also nothing new; in fact it's common practice. It just seems a bit odd to me that I'm able to do this. Still, I'm not complaining and the proceeds will pay for having the scuffs taken out of my car's bumper and there'll be enough left over for an iPod Touch (yes, the multifaceted irony of buying a Walkman branded phone and an iPod Touch isn't lost on me).

It just seems a bit mad really. Get a "free" phone, sell it along with my current phone and end up with the phone I want, an iPod Touch and a Saab that no longer has a bumper that's scratched.

Now: Bed, and a few chapters of Neuromancer.

Tomorrow: Up at 6am to take Obi for a walk, office 9-5 then after work it's quads and calves.

( Crank High Voltage )

4/5

Plans for the day...

• Train chest/triceps/delts
• Finish Mirror's Edge
• Finish work on a control renderer component in time for tomorrow
• Probably watch some more of The Unit and a few films maybe
• Go and get some Nike Air Rift trainers (for gym wear, and for when I make an attempt at Parkour, inspired by Mirror's Edge)

stainsteelrat (and EA/DICE) I owe you all an apology.

A couple of months back I dismissed Mirror's Edge as being a one-trick pony based on having played the demo and a few reviews. That's actually unlike me, since I tend to prefer to form my own opinions on things. Anyway, I'd been tempted to buy it a few times as the price began to drop, nearly breaking at £25 then at £20 but I hadn't been tempted enough. On Saturday we went to Blockbuster and they had it in stock, brand new for £9. At that price, even if it was utter shit it was worth a gamble.

Turns out that it's awesome :) The general consensus between people that do like the game is that people who don't like it don't really "get" it. Normally I'm not that keen on the idea of "getting" something or "not getting" something, but with Mirror's Edge it does seem to be true. It's not a FPS; it's a first person platformer. Sure, you can disarm guards and use their weapons on them but if you find yourself having to do that then you're not playing it in the right frame of mind.

The game is split between three main types of task, although the split is very subtle. Exploration, where you're trying to reach a particular location. Chase sections where you're actively pursuing another runner across rooftops and through buildings at breakneck pace and finally chase sections where you're being actively pursued by heavily armed Police.

It's not without flaws, there are often flow breaking sections where you'll just be standing there looking around trying to work out where to go. However, when it works it really works. You're not just a floating head, the viewpoint is very much like Far Cry 2 in that you feel like a person moving around the game world. Land from a high jump, and you have to tap the trigger to go in to a forward roll so as not to break momentum. Sprinting through an office block, vaulting over desks dodging gunfire before bashing a door open with your shoulder revealing the cityscape once more along with the slight pause as your eyes adjust to the balmy sunshine before leaping from one rooftop to another is exhilarating.

Hell, they've even managed to incorporate QTE's that don't make me want to gouge my own eyes out. Whilst Faith (you) can engage in hand to hand, the most effective way to dispatch with an opponent is to get in close, and as they try to melee attack their weapon will briefly flash red. Pressing the grapple button at this point will trigger a short animation where you disarm them and knock them unconscious. Chain this together with some acrobatics, and the feeling of sheer athleticism and skill after bouncing around a room, disarming four heavily armed enemies is very rewarding.

It's quite short, but that's no bad thing since I don't have that much time to play games. To lengthen the lifetime there are time trial modes on special maps, so longevity isn't such a problem. I've also noticed it's quite buggy, with minor glitches cropping up every now and again (conversations not triggering, I've also gotten stuck in scenery a few times and it locked up once. Bearing in mind I've played it in total for about 3.5 hours that's quite poor).

So... Yeah, I was wrong and I'm glad to have been proved wrong :)

stainsteelrat, they didn't have it in stock on the 360, but if you can get to a local Blockbuster or perhaps check the Website you could definitely find a worse way to spend £9.

4/5

Despite my deep and profound love for him, there is one noise that's more annoying than anything else in the world....

Obi, whinging for no reason when you've just settled down to watch a film. hayleyk amirite or amirite? Still, he's awesome so we're able to overlook it :)

There are too many for me to try and pick one... I'd have to say I do have fond memories of Chuckie Egg on the Acorn Electron.



There's another game that I used to play with my dad but I have no idea what it's called. I think it was either on the Acorn Electron or the Commodore 64. It was a side scrolling adventure platformer, and you were a standard platformer type. Your enemies were these tall, wizard like people and you had to jump and fire, hitting them in the eyes to kill them. You travelled around the maps collecting keys and opening doors etc. If anyone's got an idea of what it might be called (longshot given my shit description) I'd be curious to know. It must be twenty years old by now? If not more.

The other game is Citadel, I trawled Wikipedia for a few minutes and found it. I must have played that back when I was 5, so 23 years ago.



On reflection I'd have to say that I have fonder memories of playing Citadel than anything else. I used to visit my dad every other weekends, since my parents had separated for a year by the time Citadel was released. I'd have a bath on the Sunday afternoon, and then I'd play Citadel whilst my dad listened to his John Denver records in the lounge with me before he took me home at about 7pm. Probably explains why hearing Annie's Song still brings tears to my eyes.

The concert was, in short, absolutely fucking awesome.

It looked a little like we might not make it thanks to the M40 combined with my astounding ability to completely forget where the NIA is (despite spending 20 of my formative years living in Birmingham) but we made it. Protip: It's behind the Symphony Hall. We arrived and got to our seats a few tracks in to the support act's lineup, which was Dizzee Rascal, Dizzee Rascal's mate and a very fat, sweaty DJ. I'm not really a fan of Mr Rascal, although I do quite like his collaboration with Calvin Harris, Dance With Me, but I was a bit concerned since he sounded awful. You could barely hear his voice, the backing music was so ridiculously loud that it was distorting and I was wondering if it'd be the same for when the main act started.

Anyway, after a while there was an intermission and the small set that Dizzee Rascal was using was moved, a curtain was lifted and the full set was on display. A DJ area full of ninja technology for Liam, two massive projection screens either side of the stage, and a backing lighting system that reminded me of Blade II (I can't find a picture, but the scene where the two vampires infiltrate Blade's hideout and fight in front of the lights).

Sound quality was brilliant with no distortion whatsoever. Our view was really good too, on the left wing of the stage, about twenty columns back. I'd have taken pictures, but I had an email from the venue saying that pickpockets were operating at the venue so we left our phones in the boot of the car and the camera at home. On reflection I really wish I'd taken the camera...

From memory, the set list included.... (Highlight to read, in case anybody wants to catch one of their dates and doesn't want to ruin it)


I'm sure there were one or two others, but I'm struggling to remember this morning. Surprising since no alcohol was involved...

I can't easily describe how much I enjoyed seeing them perform. I'm not really much of a music fan, although as I've said (often) I've always liked everything that The Prodigy have produced. Considering I've wanted to see them live since I was about fourteen it was a bit of a dream come true, as sad as that may sound. I spent the entire thing with adrenalin coursing through my veins, and the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.

There were a couple of problems though... The seating area was very tight, and for a guy of my proportions that isn't a good thing. The guy next to me insisted on standing with his feet wide apart, and his hands tucked in to his pockets like a cowboy so his arms were splayed wide. There really wasn't much room, so I had my feet quite close together and ended up spending most of it keeping my arms in front of me. The net result of which was that I looked like I was waiting for a train rather than enjoying something I'd effectively waited fourteen years for, that was exceeding every expectation I'd ever had. I'm not much of a dancer, but I had planned to try and to be fair judging by everyone else I could have had an epileptic fit and I'd have looked right at home! It was too tight though, so I ended up nodding my head a bit. Towards the end the guy moved across a little so I could move around a little more.

The guitarist that they used was either an understudy, or he was so drunk/drugged that he kept on missing the beat. I'm not entirely sure what it's called, I'm tempted to say it's a bass drop or a break but I'm really not sure. Anyway, with this style of music there's always periods of calm where the track will either stop for a second or two, or you'll get a guitar for a second or two before everything else restarts twice as loud as before. Anyway, Maxim and Keith had it down to a tee (as you'd expect) so they'd stand there looking at the crowd like a pair of statues then they'd both jump up, kick their legs around and land just as the drums exploded back in to life. Coupling this with the lighting system being in sync and it looked fucking awesome. For the first few tracks the guitarist nailed these points too. He'd take a few steps through the quiet part, jump and then land just as it restarted and begin hammering away at his axe. I'm not sure if it was unfamiliarity or intoication but after the first few tracks he just failed to do it. He was obviously trying to, since you'd see him take a few steps but his timing was off and as the music kicked back in to life he'd visibly look annoyed at himself and scuttle away. I'm guessing that after a few more tracks he was intoxicated to the point where he no longer gave a shit because he stopped even doing that.

Finally, they completely ruined my favourite track of theirs. It's documented that I'm a huge Invaders Must Die fan and they played it towards the end of the gig. Only they seemed to have the levels off, so the bass was completely drowning out everything else. It was also the only song that they played an alternate version of, and despite it still being enjoyable it wasn't the song I was hoping to hear.

Despite those minor things, it was definitely worth a fourteen year wait and exceeded every single expectation I'd built up over that time. As soon as they're touring again, I'll be there. Hopefully my temporary deafness will have passed by then too!

10/10 - Oh, and that's on stainsteelrat's scoring scale, which only goes as far as 5 ;)

Do you know what I hate?

Modern games consoles. Yes, you read correctly. I hate modern games consoles.

Pretty much every time I turn one of them on I get the 'You must perform a system update' message. Cue half an hour of downloading and installing something that nine times out of ten will cause no discernible difference in my console.

After that, I'll get the 'An update exists for this game, you must apply it before you can play' message. Cue another half hour of downloading and installing.

What happened to the glory days? The Sega Megadrive, where if your game didn't work you would take the cartridge out and blow like a madman (or madwoman, there will be no sexual stereotyping here) in the cartridge slot and try again. Fuck me, even the Acorn Electron didn't do this shit. Well, actually it totally did as you would spend three hours typing in a code listing from a magazine only for it to refuse to run. Since I was only about five I'd never be able to debug it (to be fair even at 28 with a computing science degree and five years of industrial experience my debugging is questionable) so I'd have to wait a month for the magazine to publish the corrections so that I could type it all in again and play some shitty Pac-Man knock off.

On reflection maybe it isn't all that bad now. I still fucking hate patching consoles and games though. I more or less gave up on PC gaming because of this, and now it's just part of gaming in general.

Ooooh! My £9.99 (including DLC!) copy of the 'new' (although by that I really mean 'latest') Prince of Persia game has updated :D I'm so easily placated...

After careful and long deliberation I've concluded that there is only one possible outcome that will satisfactorily ameliorate my current situation. I'm going to have to buy Hayley a Silk Spectre II outfit.

In other news, I'm getting really tired of the virus I seem to have had for the past 8 days. I came down with what I thought was a sore throat about three weeks back, then it mysteriously passed after a couple of days. Lulled in to a false sense of security I resumed my normal schedule; escalating from lying on the couch playing videogames to sitting on the beanbag playing videogames. About ten days passed and it transpired that not only had the mild cold I'd picked up retreated before my immune system could have him on the fucking cobbles, he'd returned with several of his angrier, stronger and more infectious mates. So I now have a veritable cornucopeia of symptoms including but not limited to breathing difficulties, blocked up / runny nose (depends on time of day), productive cough, headaches, lethargy, joint pain, grumpiness, occassional impending sense of doom and intermittent stomach upsets. I'm not quite sure what to do now? Whether to just leave it and hope it passes or go and see my GP. I don't like wasting their time if it'll just pass, and I do know that some viruses can last for weeks at a time.

I'm hoping I'll feel well enough tomorrow to actually do something since for the past fortnight I've not done very much. I haven't trained for over a week and have spent any time I'm not at work just sitting around trying to get better. I think we're planning on seeing Watchmen at some point, and I might also pick up GTA: Chinatown Wars on the DS as well as something for Hayley since she's finished Professor Layton. Hopefully I'll manage to go training once or twice too.

I think I need to find a new hobby. Missing training for the past week or so has made me realise that my hobbies are more or less comprised of weightlifting, videogames and watching films. There's nothing inherently wrong with that, and of course I do more activities than just those three but if I was asked to list my hobbies they're the three I'd select. I'm always a little dubious of people who list an emormous list of hobbies since they're either incredibly busy people, or just chock full of shit. I know a lot of people who have done a vaguely impressive sounding activity once and then wheel it out at every opportunity when asked about their interests. For example I've done a few track days, but I don't list motor racing as a hobby of mine.

As it happens, my interests make a fairly good combination since weightlifting requires periods of rest and you don't get much more rested than lying on the couch playing videogames. Unless you're asleep. I also don't get gamer gut since I lift weights and watch what I eat.

It's probably just my general mood at the moment, which is always affected when I'm sick, but for the past week nothing in terms of hobbies has really grabbed my interest. I've tried to watch films but have struggled to get in to them, I've tried to play games but haven't really had the inclination or energy and I obviously can't bust the power moves in the gym since I'm too unwell to do so. I think it's just my general mindset this week (ill, a bit grumpy and unmotivated) but it does concern me a little that if for some reason lifting weights was banned would I end up pissing my evenings away like I have done this week lying on the couch watching garbage on TV :/

It hasn't helped that I've felt incredibly horny for the past fortnight and have felt too unwell to do anything about it. Not to mention that being a snotmonster is about as arousing as roadkill.

I got the car serviced recently, which was very reasonably priced although I suspect the next one won't be so frugal for me since I'm going to need new tyres according to the garage so that'll be the best part of £800 just on those. I haven't had the scuff removed yet, since we had some unexpected plumbing and roofing bills this month which has eaten up our disposable cash. So it's going to be done next month instead.

Obi and Spaghetti are getting on well, although Obi is becoming increasingly convinced that he is in charge of the house anytime that Hayley is out. He sees me as his bipedal doggy mate rather than his owner which is fine by me, but does cause problems with obedience when I'm out with him. I pretty much have to cajole him in to doing what I want, which is usually not savaging the nearest passer-by. Although I have to admit that some people are pretty fucking stupid. Imagine the scene if you will... A gentle spring day, 2pm in the afternoon and you're out for a walk. You come across a large expanse of grass several hundred feet in length and breadth. Otherwise known as a park. Within this area is a man and his 8 stone, bright white American Bulldog with a bright red body harness on. Since you've clearly suffered recent major head trauma, you begin to approach the pair, despite the fact that the dog drops low, bares his teeth and starts growling at you.

"IS HE FRIENDLY?" you inquire.

It's usually around this point that I'm reminded of a scene from The Terminator where Arnold is sitting in his hotel room formulating his next attack when the hotel manager asks "Hey buddy, what've you got in there a dead cat?". We then cut to Terminator vision and he presents himself with several options...

• FUCK YOU
• FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE
• I'm sorry, could you return later
• -Say nothing-

The Terminator pauses, and then selects "FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE" as the most suitable response.

So anyway, by this point I'll be looking slightly nervous (replace this with very nervous if you have children with you) and I'll be doing my Terminator bit to elucidate upon the most suitable response. I'm not known for my brevity, and I find situations like this awkward so I'll usually try to explain that he's not unfriendly, but he isn't too keen on strangers who walk right up to him and shove their hands in his face whilst standing at full height. As I blurt out this, Obi will usually be going fucking mental at them as they lurch dangerously close to his very powerful jaws.

Temporary alleviation of the effects of their major head trauma will then cause them to wake the fuck up and realise what they're doing. Usually they'll then get shirty with me because my dog barked at them, or bared his teeth, or lunged at them. Completely failing to recognise the fact that they deliberately closed a fifty to one hundred foot gap to see the "cute little" 8 stone doggy, whilst also making themselves look as menacing and threatening as possible.

Obi isn't by any means an aggressive or threatening dog. Far from it, he growls and bares his teeth at idiotic strangers because he's scared. He's scared for his safety and for mine. It just makes me wonder how people can fail so spectacularly to read the signals that we're both giving off, and to then turn the situation around to try to blame us. Granted there are times it's less clear cut, such as walking through a housing estate. You can turn a corner and bump in to someone which'll surprise Obi and he'll start barking. It's the people that deliberately close huge gaps and misread every signal being presented to them that irritate me.

Anyway after that random rant I'd better get some lunch :D

Taking the lead from my esteemed friends peterb and stainsteelrat I thought I'd post up some words about a few films I've watched recently.

Bigger, Stronger, Faster* - A documentary filmed by Christopher Bell about steroids, the physique and their role in the American Dream.

The film opens with Christopher discussing his upbringing as an average American boy in an average American family. With one older brother and one younger brother, all three of whom grew up on a diet of WWF (I refuse to call it WWE!) wrestling and the holy trinity of Schwarzenegger/Stallone/Hogan films. We fairly rapidly run through a collage of home videos interspliced with footage from classic wrestling matches, sequences from various 80's action films and footage of George Bush Senior advocating that winners indeed, do not use drugs.

Gradually the film clearly defines the way in which people such as Arnold Schwarzenegger have portrayed themselves as being very clean living, hard working people who have eaten their greens, gotten their sleeves rolled up and worked hard but fair to achieve according to the American Dream. Whilst it's not unreasonable to think that this is true to a certain extent, it's very well known that Arnold in particular is prone to exaggerating and inventing much of his perceived hardship during his life.

The film then cuts to showing various wrestling stars and actors discussing their drug use and showing some of them being arrested for possession of performance enhancing drugs. Clearly Christopher then talks about his disappointment was very hard to bear when he realised that his heroes weren't as squeaky clean as he was led to believe.

I'm probably a fairly exceptional case here but it's fucking obvious that wrestlers, bodybuilders, power lifters and most athletes at any serious level are geared up to the fucking eyeballs. Still, I suppose that as a ten year old boy it must be fairly disheartening.

The underlying theme of the film is really how the dissemination of the American Dream, particularly in relation to the achievements of Schwarzenegger and Stallone, causes some people to (foolishly) waste their lives, never truly appreciating what they do have. In an early sequence Christopher visits his gym for a training session and chats to one of his friends whilst he's there. The friend is 50, clearly lifts weights but doesn't have an outstanding physique or level of strength yet he is convinced that a Hollywood agent is only days away from discovering him. To add a little context to this, he lives in a camper van in the car park of Gold's Gym filled to the brim with empty supplement containers and copies of Flex. Initially it's actually quite amusing, but it doesn't take long for you to actually feel bad for finding this guy amusing since in all honesty he appears to be bordering on some form of mental disorder.

The film moves on to discuss steroid use in sports and so on, but never really seems to put forward a definitive stance on anything. Nor does it really challenge the viewer to use the information put forward to come to their own conclusion since it's presented very poorly. The only stance it seems to take is that the health risks of steroid use is exaggerated. Hardly a seminal shift in thinking.

Things pick up a little later on as it discusses the sport supplement industry and really this is the only aspect of the film that offers any payoff for watching. It discusses how congress changed the law so that instead of supplement companies having to prove that their products are safe and as effective as claimed, the FDA have to prove that they're not. Christopher goes on to discuss something that I've known for a very long time, but doesn't seem to be very widespread knowledge which I found interesting. Essentially, supplement manufacturers will often produce a product which is listed as containing certain ingredients. They will then list extremely impressive claims based on these ingredients "Gain 12lbs of lean mass in 8 weeks", "Lose 28lbs of fat in a month!" and so on. However, these claims are based on usually very large doses of expensive materials and don't take in to account other agents that these people might be using. I'm sure that I could gain 12lbs of muscle in 8 weeks if I was using enough testosterone, growth hormone, T3, IGF and PGF to sink a battleship. Not to mention the two "Super Muscle Building Supplement" tablets per day.

Anyhow, the trick is that the label claims are based on large amounts of these agents which the supplement companies get around by using a "Proprietary formula". So they'll claim that they're using CLA for example, which might need an effective dose of 10g per day. However, they'll list on the label claims of benefits in line with a 10g a day dose, but they'll list their proprietary "IsoMethylFlavononeSupraCLAMethoxyStack" ingredient which is actually 0.2g of CLA and 9.8g of filler and vitamin C.

Christopher further illustrates this by forming his own supplement company by hiring Mexican immigrants to come to his house and cap some ingredients in tiny doses. He has labels printed out, a fake photo shoot taken (Yes, very often those "before and after" photo's are taken a couple of hours apart) and then puts them on the shelves in a supplement store.

The film also explores the lack of consistency in terms of what constitutes cheating and what doesn't in sport. Tiger Woods for example, had corrective laser eye surgery and now has 20/15 vision. A fairly important trait for a golfer...

If I had to sum up this film in one word, I'd have to say "conflicted". It doesn't really know what it wants to be or how it wants to portray the subject material and by the end you're left feeling as though you've expended a vaguely enjoyable but ultimately fruitless two hours.

2/5

W (Dub-ya) - Oliver Stone's commentary on the life of arguably the most divisive politician of modern times. Paraphrasing his own words, it's effectively the journey of how an alcoholic waster managed to become the most powerful man in the world. Clearly Stone has taken the gist of what happened based on what information and events are publically known and then filled in the blanks with his scriptwriter(s). Whilst Stone has stated that he has never intended to make an anti-Bush or pro-Bush film, it's difficult to see this film as anything but the former. Although perhaps the subject material means that it's difficult to produce anything but the former?

The story flicks back and forth throughout Bush Junior's life, from his initiation ceremony in to a University fraternity to his eventual final speech as President. Josh Brolin really excels at portraying Bush, in terms of appearance, mannerisms and voice. Several sequences show Bush being left dumbstruck in public addresses, and he's generally portrayed as the bumbling, fairly dense individual that he always seems to have behaved as.

Clearly the 2003 Iraq invasion plays a major role in the film, and over several scenes it's communicated in no uncertain terms that the invasion occurred for one reason only. Gaining a foothold in the middle east. Dick Cheney is portrayed as being the instigator, with Bush Jnr being almost cajoled in to adopting their plan partly because he's a good ol' Texan boy and partly because he wants to finish what he feels his father didn't. The only voice of reason during these scenes is General Colin Powell, who at the end crumbles and supports the invasion plan despite the deliberate lack of an exit strategy. Of course, it's impossible to say what actually happened during these meetings but it doesn't take a massive stretch of the imagination for the events of the film to be highly believable. In Bush's defence however, it does depict him as genuinely being under the impression that Saddam Hussein was in possession of WMD's prior to the invasion. Furthermore it depicts his anger and frustration with the lack of evidence post invasion, as well as how the search for them falls down the chain of responsibility until nobody is really sure who should be looking for them.

3/5

Disturbia - Alarm bells should have been ringing for me when Sky Movies described this as "Rear Window for the iPhone generation" really, shouldn't I?

Shia LaBeouf and his father are involved in a car accident (well, two technically) and his father is killed. A year later, he's shown still clearly affected by the loss of his father and when antagonised by his teacher for not doing his homework ("What would your father think?") Shia chins him. Well, mysteriously he chins him but the next scene shows the teacher with a black eye. Technically he should be given a custodial sentence, but instead they give him 3 months home arrest with an electronic tag.

Cue fifteen minutes of spot the brand (Sony, Microsoft, Tom Clancy, Apple, Motorola etc.) as he exhausts his entertainment options over the space of a week or so. His mum cancels his Live and iTunes subscriptions, and he's left bored. Predictably he starts to spy on his neighbours, learning their habits and jerking off over the girl next door. Well, that last part isn't actually in the film, but let's be honest he will have done; despite her looking like Skeletor.

He hears a news story about a girl being raped and murdered, and that the car was a distinctive classic car with damage to the front wing. He sees a neighbour of his with the exact same model of car with damage in the same location. What we then have is about an hour of him spying on the neighbour, being proved wrong. Until eventually it transpires that the neighbour is actually a murderer and is planning on knobbing Shia's mum and framing Shia for the killing with a stolen breadknife, covered in Shia's prints.

Shia escapes, kills madman, saves mum and ends up with Skeletor as a girlfriend. Personally, given the choices I'd have probably asked the murderer to get on with it and make it quick.

I thought it was poorly paced, way too long and very predictable.

1/5

I seem to be struggling to find decent films to watch at the moment. We've got Body of Lies at home, as well as JCVD. Next week Quantum of Solace is out and although I've seen it twice already my inner five year old is getting very excited about watching the opening car chase over and over and over :D

I'm hoping to be well enough to see Watchmen this weekend too. We missed it a fortnight back since we were "otherwise engaged" and then last weekend I picked up a virus which meant that I spent the whole weekend lying on the couch feeling sorry for myself whilst playing Resident Evil 5. With any luck, we'll see it on Saturday afternoon :)

Don't Shit Your Pants - A survival horror game

1.) I occasionally get dry skin around my jawline and on my shoulders, and using a sunbed seems to help clear this up for me. So when I get this, I'll try to treat it with some moisturiser and if it doesn't clear up within a few days I'll usually have six minutes on the sunbed after a training session and that'll clear it right up. It's not enough to give me a noticeable tan, and I do it so infrequently it's really not a big deal (Probably once every six months). So I tried this last night, and foolishly didn't pay any attention to the sign that said "We've fitted new tubes to the sunbed!".

I look like a fucking lobster today. In February. In England. >:<

2.) Somebody has hit my car and scuffed the rear bumper. I got a quote for having it resprayed and it's going to be £120+VAT. Hayley noticed that a van that parks on the same road has an identical scuff mark on his front bumper on the opposite side, suggesting it was from him as he attempted to pull out. Granted neither of us saw this happen, but the scuff mark on both cars match in terms of size and location, the van has a plastic unsprayed bumper, my car has a silver metallic paint bumper but the damage was obviously caused by a plastic unsprayed bumper (no paint transfer or mixing, just paint removal from my car). I'm not sure whether I should find the owner and have a word (obvious goal being them paying some or all of the repair), or just pay for the repair myself and get on with it.

If I saw someone do it then I'd have no hesitance whatsoever in confronting them about it. Since I didn't see this happen and whilst I'm fairly confident it was the van that caused the damage I'm not 100% certain, I'm unsure as to whether or not discussing it with the van owner is a good idea.

I'm a little concerned that all he has to do is say "I don't know what you're talking about mate*, that scuff happened two years ago in a car park in Milton Keynes..." and I'll be left doing a Goldfish impression.

So, what shall I do? Help me LiveJournal, you're my only hope!

* Mate - The term that instantly puts you on the same level as any van driver, craftsman or man that you don't know at the pub, gym or football ground. Also used to sweeten the delivery of bad news, in a similar way that adding a winking smilie to a horrendously offensive statement online nullifies any potential negative effect.

Married man travels 400 miles for an affair, only to discover it's a hoax.

The call made to him after he'd waited for 3.5 hours outside "her" house, subsequent to a 9 hour drive.

So anyway, a few months back I was watching some YouTube footage of The Prodigy playing at the Brixton Academy and there's a sequence where Liam Howlett is casually making his way to the stage. He's wearing a military style jacket, and when I saw it I thought "Chris, you charismatic bastard, that jacket looks awesome. Something of similar style might suit you. Oh, and get a fucking haircut, stop drinking twelve cans of beer a night and get some fucking exercise!".

Well, I got the haircut, stopped boozing and I'm training like a mofo but the jacket hasn't materialised. Yet...

( Military style jacket poll... )

Thousands face problems due to expired photocard driving licences.

It seems that photocard driving licences have an expiration date ten years after issue. If you don't renew (purely paperwork, there is no test required) then you can face a £1,000 fine and potentially have an insurance claim refused by your insurer should you be involved in an accident.