July 2003 Archives

cold

This is a repost promoting content originally published elsewhere. See more things Dan's reposted.

This repost was published in hindsight, on 18 March 2019.

Paul wrote:

Long time, no update. (shrugs). Went for a pickled egg in Aber but couldn’t find one after searching nearly every pub in the area, so we’ve decided to make our own with vinegar, garlic, chillis, mustard, red hot tobasco sauce etc… should be quite interesting. Results in two weeks

Dan and Claire seem to be getting more use out of my dinghy than me, but I don’t mind…. I enjoy seeing people have fun

Haven’t seen Stan for a while…. I wonder how long it will be before he actually asks me for rent…

I’ve heard nothing from a couple of jobs I’ve applied for, so I went to the Job Centre and found one for “Arcade Cashier”. It sounds quite good and pays over £200 a week (before tax) so that will do me nicely…

Cross-reference: Pickled Eggs

Butterfingers

Butterfingers gave me a courtesy call at work this morning to tell me that my juggling gear will be delivered tomorrow. Which is nice.

It’s a stupidly hot day. The office needs desk fans. I’m melting here. I’ve been to the kitchen three times so far just to soak my head/hair from the tap to keep me cool. It’s just evaporating off. I’ve drunk all my mago juice and my cranberry juice.

There’s a storm predicted for Friday. Hopefully this one will actually happen as scheduled and the air temperature and pressure will drop a bit.

My arms are sweaty and sticking to the desk. Gonna take a walk outside.

Haiku

Claire is at work. Kit and Paul are pickling eggs with our new supplies of pickling vinegar.

While the eggs boiled, Paul seems to have used my fridge poetry set to compose a pair of unusual haiku. They are as follows:

this is a sad symphony
about two lovers
and there death by pink chocolate

man with purple hair
woman with enormous friend
sordid drunk mother

Hmm.

Pickled Eggs

Went for a pint with Paul and Kit at the Ship & Castle, which eventually turned into a long trek through over a dozen Aberystwyth pubs in search of pickled eggs.

A secondary highlight of the evening was my phone call to Rummers Wine Bar, leaving a message on their answerphone: “Good evening; my name is Daniel Huntley and I’m with the Welsh Pickled Egg Beurau. On behalf of the Good Pub Guide, we’re currently running a survey into the quality of pub pickled eggs, and we’re now in your area. If you could call me back on 07###-###### to arrange a visit, I’ll be in town all weekend. Thanks;” Kit and Paul creased up laughing. Well, you do, don’t you.

The primary highlight was getting to The Castle Hotel and seeing a quite spectacular band playing. Their bass guitarist/singer was extremely good, and the rest of the band were very listenable, too. Despite not having and pickled eggs, we enjoyed a couple of drinks there, were later joined by Claire, and finally went home to watch some Futurama.

Oh; and a guy (a patron, I guess) stripped off and started dancing in front of the drummer. Only in Aberystwyth.

Kit, Mark II

I’ve discovered what Kit‘s evil plan is: he’s transforming Paul into another Kit!

Paul, like Kit (another jobless bum) now comes around to my house and tidies up in exchange for not being allowed to starve. Okay; it’s not quite that bad (or organised), but Kit’s quite obviously just beginning a long and complex plan, here.

I’ll keep you all posted.

Friday Morning

Wow. Seen the Quake IV Leaked Screenshots [mirror]. Due for release on the last day of the year, based on these stills alone I’d say that it’s going to be something quite spectacular… and will involve a terrier…

Off to work…

Fire In The Eyes

I’ve not been able to get out of my mind the thrill of juggling with flaming torches the other night. So I’ve bought myself a set from Butterfingers, along with some other juggling goodies and a book about how to juggle with clubs.

Can’t wait until they arrive.

Almost Passed This On The Way To Work

Another fantastic story from the BBC: this one took place yesterday, and so I missed it, as I didn’t come in to work. Apparently this lorry full of cheese caught fire on the A44, on my usual route to the office. The driver said: “I saw the fire starting but by the time I’d gone back to the cab to get the fire extinguisher the whole lot had started to go on fire.”

1. Cheese burns?
2. What route did he take back to the cab? Via Bow Street?
3. How does combusion occur in the hold of a moving lorry full of milk produce?

Sandplough

As this report by the BBC states, Danish soldiers in Iraq were surprised when their latest supplies shipment, instead of containing much-needed morphine and tent equipment, contained a snowplough and a supply of lawnmowers.

Now; okay – I understand that mistakes happen, and perhaps there was a mix-up between two supplies orders… but somebody must have signed-off this snowplough to Iraq… didn’t they think to question the order just once?

Defense Minister Svend Aage Jensby has told one Danish paper, Ekstra Bladet, of his displeasure over the mistakes and has promised to put them right.

That lit up my Thursday morning.

Carribean Night

It’s not often you plan an entire evening around one ingredient… which turns out not to have anything to do with the food…

Kit: “What’re we going to do with these coconuts?” (holds up two coconuts)

Two hours later, we’re sipping pina coladas, eating carribean-style curry (soon to be followed by Bounty bars). The curry turned out quite fantastic: I’d recommend it (and, in fact Sainsbury’s Recipe Finder). I’d have liked more banana in it, and perhaps a little pineapple… but hey; I’ve had six pina coladas so far, so I’m not complaining (although typing is becoming challenging).

Claire is playing Tropico, which I recently bought from Amazon Marketplace. It’s pretty good. You get to be dictator of a carribean island.

Hugz;

Fucking Flaming Brands

Last night Kit, Claire, Paul, Bryn and I acquired a huge wooden desk and other burnables and went and started an enormous fire on the beach, having just finished a most fantastic curry at Cafe All Spice. Big fire!

Later, we were joined by a man with some juggling batons and a woman with some flags and flaming things on the end of cords. I’d never juggled with clubs before, but a quick play and a little coaching later, and he had me juggling with fucking flaming brands. What a buzz!

The woman will be taking part in Equilibre at Machynlleth. Judging by how impressive she alone was with her firey-things, I’m really tempted to go. Showing 9th-16th August, 8pm.

I must buy some flame-batons. The buzz is only just wearing off.

Quarter Life Crisis

This is a repost promoting content originally published elsewhere. See more things Dan's reposted.

This repost was published in hindsight, on 11 March 2019.

Claire wrote:

I’ve been having feelings of general worthlessness and pointless recently, which Dan has dubbed my “quarter life crisis”. Basically, I’m 20, and I’m supposed to be all adult, and useful to the world. I didn’t want to ever grow up. I have very little to show for my twenty years of life, I don’t do anything much that affects the world at large or even my own little world. I feel like I’ve floated through life so far, like a piece of driftwood, or an electron – taking the line of least resistance all the way.

This is going to change. As I said to Dan yesterday, it’s all worthless and pointless when all I do is think about how worthless and pointless it all is. So, bored of being a whining teenager, and wanting to justify my own existance, I’m going to DO things. Less talk, more doing, thinking, travelling, experiencing.

I’ve begun to enjoy working at McDonalds, sadly, but i still need a job where I can earn more for doing less so that I don’t feel constantly tired.

Rant of the day: Bruises, scrapes and burns.
Not a work-day goes by where I don’t injure myself in some way. Some of this, I admit, could be put down to general clumsiness on my part but I know people who’ve been there longer than I who have more scars. The fry station – hot fat, hot baskets, hot fries, hot metal everywhere, and I have to move fries about quickly and accurately. The floor – always slippy for some reason, my “regulation” flat bottomed shoes have little grip. The spatulas – metal, sharp, hot. I have a bruise on my leg from turning too quickly and knocking “Archie” (the fry machine) when I’d taken off the guards to clean him. The boiling water that comes out of the tap for tea. It hurts. There’s no way to keep safe, especially when you have to work so quickly. But, they put “Wet floor” signs and “Careful, it’s hot” everywhere, so it’s all ok.

But as I said. Less talk. More do.

Thoughts Of Tuesday

Cycling home last night I realised once again quite what a happy bunny I am. I enjoy my job, for which I am paid very reasonably. I live in a town that I love, and I’m surrounded by good friends. And, above all else, I have the love of a beautiful woman whom I love and adore with all my heart. When I got home, I told Kit, Bryn and Paul (who were already at my house, playing Super Monkey Ball 2) quite what a happy little creature I was. They didn’t seem particularly impressed.

Kit continues to get better at Super Monkey Ball 2. He kicked my arse at Monkey Target 2, in which the aim is to land gliders on small targets at sea, at least as much as I beat him. Might need to get some Super Monkey Practice in.

Andy’s latest journal entry is weird as ever. Slightly trippy, but inspirational nonetheless. I have a thought for a similar tale of my own, published to this site, but with an interesting twist upon the typical “serial story” theme. If I can be arsed I’ll make it happen. No promises. I have lots of other stuff to be getting on with.

This morning, picked up our insurance report from Daton Systems, who I’ve given a link because they didn’t charge me for the privilege. This report claims that the laptop is a write-off, which lets us stop the insurance company bugging us about having claimed it as such and bought a new one without any evidence.

Better get some work done, now, I guess.

Monday Morning

Another new week. I’m surprisingly jolly about it. Spent the morning so far discussing corporate image with my boss.

[quiz results removed]

Gotta love Mondays.

I won at Mario Party 4 again last night. But Claire didn’t come second… she came third, beaten to it by Paul. You’d think she’d be pleased. But no.

She kicked all our asses in a Flag Rally at Cel Damage, though. D’oh!

Paul In Aber

Paul made it to Aber. Woo and indeed hoo. He, Bryn, Kit, Claire, and I went to the beach and drank beer and ate pizza to celebrate. Then Claire and I took turns in an inflatable dingy and I got soaked as a wave leapt over the side. You’ll probably see their reports of this on their journals, soon, too.

The wiki I was coding got finished. Sadly, only a few of you who read this will ever be allowed to see it, but it’s pretty sweet.

Plothole appeared in the story on Andy’s LiveJournal – he has me drinking tea, which, as everybody knows, isn’t going to happen on account of (a) caffiene being a really, really bad thing for me and (b) I don’t particularly like tea. Have reported this to him and await feedback.

This made me laugh: type Weapons of Mass Destruction into Google and you’ll get this page. I laughed lots.