Monthly Archives: March 2008
I didn’t get to watch Mania, but boy, that man deserves a rest. I’ve never been a huge fan, but The Nature Boy’s a fucking legend. Look at that outfit :D
This years Mania actually sounds rather good- if anything to do with professional wrestling can be said to be that. Flair vs. HBK sounds weepingly missed-spot-tastic and the Big Show vs. Floyd Mayweather Jr. sounds on the good side of amusing. Oh for me being able to make BitTorrent work with my router or to have Sky… :(
I’ve been tinkering with the blog layout- If things don’t display correctly post a comment and i’ll try and sort out what i’ve fucked up on. Likewise, if you just don’t like it or think that things should be different.
I’ve made the entry box wider and the content text a smidgen larger to cut down on squinting (should the box go wider still?); i’ve also gotten happy with the CSS and learnt how to do multiple rule sets for links, so the content links should again be bigger and clearer to read. Again, if the content is not clearer to you on your browser/OS/resolution combination drop me a comment below.
Hmmm… there’s another thing to spend some time on over the upcoming two weeks- Upgrading nopoke to MT 4… Time wasting… Yay!
I have been listening through headphones to Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Get It On at high volume for the last ten minutes. Hmmm… I’m not deprived. Let’s stare at George for a while…
Oooh… George, whatever are you carrying? George with facial hair is oddly hot. Not that odd I suppose, given that it is George, but it’s a form of his hotness I’ve not encountered before- the Syriana look was definitely *not* hot. Maybe it’s just the NSFW sex furniture he’s toting that adds to the charm.
I greatly covet that purple ramp… Oh to live in a world where I live on my own and have someone who comes over and stretches my back out on a purple sex wedge. Le sigh.
See, if it were George, I think I could make do with no wedge…you know, it would be a struggle and all, but for George i’d put up with it :) I think having one could be genuinely beneficial, but as i’ve no partner to spilt the cost with, let alone have sex with I think i’ll have to continue ogling George.
Isn’t it a bit sad that I immediately recognised what the purple item was? Me, who gets to have sex with someone who’s been drinking, is bored or feels sorry for me (but on the balance of probability does care); who owns copious amounts of attractive underwear that more people on Flickr get to see than actual people; has a rubber dress that hangs sadly unworn on it’s hanger and who knows all about the trend for paint-spattered dresses when she wears virtually nothing but trousers. Ugh.
Supernatural Season Two and the Indiana Jones box set are on order, so at least I will have something “to do” over the Easter break i.e. ogle Dean and get excited by grimy Indy.
Bobby Convey has started to insert herself into the world of online dating; i’m interested to see how she gets on and if she finds anyone not after a quick fuck or who turns out to be a little on the scary side. She is being proactive and smart about being single, I on the other hand consider myself just that bit too emotionally damaged for the fast-paced world of match.com so will focus my energies on weeping alone in my room. Fuckin-A.
Other people go on holiday to interesting, romantic and exotic places; I sit at home and watch fictional men fight their way out of trouble. Wow. That’s not in any way depressing…
Yes, I actually got this photo from Marcus Hahnemann’s Premiership Diary. I looked all the way through the book for a topless, manfurlicious shot and this is all I could come up with.
Yesterday I spent a very cold and wet afternoon in the delightful company of Bobby Convey at the Madjeski Statdium; there was a free seat going at Reading vs. Blackburn and I am not one to pass up some free Marcus.
On a side note, why is it US goalies are bald or shaved? Marcus, Brad Friedel, superhero in disguise Kasey Keller and Tim Howard. As I commented to Bobby, it must be down to all that American meat they consume… mmm hormones…
Although I was very cold and was rained on quite a bit and the game was rather dire until the second half, I did enjoy my afternoon out. I got to study the comparative physiologies of Hahnemann and Friedel, coming to the conclusion that Marcus filled out his outfit in a much more pleasing way. “Look at the swell of the calves!”
Srsly, perving over men for an hour and twenty was great fun, aand I got to watch some unintentionally hilarious football too. The perving must be what life is like for straight men when they’re at a club, or watching the sixth form play netball. Staring at backsides then laughing at what I was doing- the men don’t do that. They have no such shame.
Also on the unintentionally amusing front were Andre Bikey’s jazz hands when “protecting” the goalie i.e. bashing into Hahnemann, when Bikey was saying “it weren’t me, gov” when he’d used his arse to knock an opponent over and when asking for the ball to be sent his way. As well as Marcus I got to ogle the fabulously named Roque Santa Cruz; the highly admired, silky bastard didn’t look much from where we were sitting, however LOOK AT WHAT I FOUND:
then ponder WHY I also like this:
Post-match we squished onto a bus and headed back down town to consume hot beverages to warm up; I ranted about my job, Bobby ranted about hers (Christ on a bike!), we talked about relationships, dating, what the point of having children is, the time we have left to procreate and pregnancy scares. All good. Srsly.
Maybe it’s because I need a sandwich, but listening to the greatest hits of Earth, Wind and Fire is proving to be an excellent experience. It’s on the imaginary lapdance soundtrack of the moment.
Admittedly I occasionally snigger at the over-the-topness of it all, but they’re still rather fabulous, even if I am laughing at them, and they are damn good records.
886 – Space Buggy
I was but a small monky in 1989 and when my Mum used to take me to the supermarket I would hang around the toy section whilst I waited for her to finish. I passed the time by taking in all the varieties of Pound Puppies and also the Lego sets; I would poke the soft stomachs of the big Puppies to see if I could get at the puppies waiting to “be born” i.e. ripped from their Velcro womb and lift up the flaps that hung from the front of the big Lego sets so that I could peer through the windows at all the cool stuff inside.
Leaving aside the magnificent Space Monorail set which I knew only the rich kids (and the boy from The Witches) had, the Lego set I obsessed over the most was the Space Police Mission Commander. Behold.
Isn’t it awesome? Even now I get excited looking at it, remembering back to those times in the toy isle and how cool the little space buggies were that came out of the ship (!!!) and the black opaque visors of the eeevil Blacktron mini-figures.
At that time I had managed to save up the massive amount of £40 in My First Savings Account and I was seriously longing for the Mission Commander which cost the then huge amount of £38.
One day post toy isle my Mum took me to the bank to deposit a pound into my account- look at me becoming a little citizen. In the queue I saw my primary school teacher (who I idolised of course) and when she asked me what I was doing I shyly replied that I was putting a pound in and that I had saved up forty and that I can now afford to get a really big Lego spaceship. Whilst my teacher was expressing awe at my vast wealth my Mum cut me down with a no, you’re not going to spend it on that. Thanks Mum, and in front of Mrs Hall too. I was crushed.
Sadly I have longed for that Lego set for nearly twenty years. Le sigh.
Complete boxed sets are now going for these INSANE prices on fan sites and eBay listings whizz off the scale of affordability very very quickly. I went into a toy department recently to see if Lego were still making anything half as cool as set number 6986- As the answer has been for years and years- NO. Yes, they had some nice little Indiana Jones sets but so much was branded, non-intermixable and generally uninspiring. I felt very disheartened.
Colby’s Ray Traced Lego Mania: 6986 Mission Commander
Peeron: 6986 – Instructions
Similarly awesome- 6984: Galactic Mediator (oooo)
Ranting and Raving
I’ve just had two four day weeks, so why is it I can’t wait for a week Friday and the Easter break to appear?
I’ve observed recently that (to me at least) I get noticeable jitters when i’m working without having slept properly. Full on shakiness- my head, my chest and my hands. I used to manage quite easily, but now the lack of rest seems to hit much harder. I’ve found that I tend to think i’m coming down with something, when i’m just washed out.
Quality time spend in a dark, silent, comfortable sleep space combined with plenty of hot food and Patrick to hug usually provides the cure. Cheaper and easier to get hold of than sleeping pills. I need to take better care of myself… I think I will start this Easter break with a trip to the Well Woman clinic and a smear test. Woo.
Of course it’s now 1am. Naughty monky.
Asunder by night86mare
Today I am looking forward to a day out to Tates Modern and Britain with a bunch of Year 12 and 13; I am going to get to go on the Tate Boat (oooooh) which I would never usually shell out to go on.
When the students are older (and hopefully at less risk of vandalising the artwork) I greatly enjoy gallery visits. Some of the most satisfying moments teaching can be when you just chat with the students about the artwork you are stood in front of. It can really inspire- Students realise that not all art is figurative and realistic and that contemporary art ain’t all shit as they previously thought.
Unfortunately when I return to school I then have to attend a delightful year meeting where the same old shit will be discussed and not much will be done about it. Sigh.
Flickr – The Tate Modern Crack
Guardian – Jon Henley on the intriguing crack in the floor of Tate Modern
Oh… and the clocks are springing forward this weekend… ghetto… one more reason (not that I need one) to hibernate until June.
hello children by estherase
Is that a baseball bat?
It’s Easter, so it’s the time for snarfing chocolate, watching kids films on tv and dodging whatever bunny/chick/egg-themed monstrosity you are ambushed by on the high street. It’s also the time for the teaching unions to have their Spring conferences, and thus the time for a whole load of bullshit to be spouted.
The main problem with the unions in this country is exactly that- unions. The differences offered between each of the four or so unions for England and Wales (NUT, NASUWT, ATL and PAT) means I suppose that everyone can find one that fits and that a wide range of opinion is covered, but it also means that when it comes to collective bargaining, we be fucked.
The unions in Scotland managed to get a 21.5% increase in pay spread over three years, specifically because the major union there has 80% of all Scottish teachers as members. The situation in England and Wales is much more fractured and quite a few of the unions seem to exist merely to take pot shots at whatever government is sitting at the time.
For me pay is not the major issue, however I can see why some staff believe in fighting for it- compared to other “professional professions” the pay does not increase at either a similar rate or amount. The major issue for me is conditions.
Like all other teachers I have a clause in my contract under the expectations of the post that says I am a teacher of art, that I may be responsible for a form and oh, that I will be expected to do pretty much anything the headteacher expects in order to get the job done. My contact hours are apparently 0830-1530; however I usually work an extra hour each day, I spend hours and hours marking books and assessing exam work, I attend parents evenings, spend weekends preparing resources and get fuck all done during the in-school time supposedly set aside for “planning and preparation” as i’m always helping students. Oh, and throughout the course of the day I get around about ten minutes where I can sit down and consume a coffee or some nutrition without being interrupted.
Where are the things I do on a day-today basis set out? Answer- They’re not.
Conditions- conditions of work and the conditions we work in. We’ve had no heating in the department for the last four weeks. Can you imagine this happening in an office job? It’s this parity that I constantly find myself going back to- Imagine if education was done the same way as business or done following reasonable societal expectations. Please do not think however that I wish education to be like business- it is too important for that.
Students… In the real world this is what happens- Consistently turn up late? Sanctions then sacked. Turn up without the right equipment? Sanctioned then sacked. Miss a deadline? Sacked. Refuse to do as your boss asks? Sacked. Throw something at your boss? Sacked followed by a police complaint. Threaten to assault or assault a co-worker? Sacked followed by a police complaint.
The public perception of teaching as a job is that it’s piss easy- roll up at 0845, fuck off home at 1430, l-o-n-g holidays with generally fuck all to do in them. Teachers have a rep for whining about things- how can they whine with such a lifestyle? When the public hear the unions complaining about pay they much think we are a dreadfully selfish profession and that we certainly don’t deserve what we’re asking for.
Problem is, the general public have no idea what most schools are like these days- miniature war zones filled with disgracefully spoilt god-complex children where no learning goes on, staff are abused regularly and the yell of “child abuse!” is heard on a far too frequent basis. How can the public be made aware of the shocking state of education in this country when due to privacy concerns and the useless General Teaching Council it is virtually impossible to reveal the day-to-day inner workings of a difficult school?
What is worth standing up for?
– The increasing trend for NQT’s to be on one year contracts so that the school can get rid of them once their probationary year is up and get in a cheaper NQT.
– Cover supervisors and learning support assistants teaching lessons. Or the new trend for “instructors”- people with no teaching qualification taking classes on the super-cheap.
– Most subjects being taught by staff who are not specialists in the subject– only 46% of art teachers do not have a degree related to the subject, whereas ICT it’s 87%.
– The huge number of abuse by teacher allegations that are made compared with the number found to be true.
– Academies and public-private-partnership building.
– How education is flooded with the latest initiatives from the sitting government of the time which are not researched nor tested nor of any point.
– Behaviour of students
– That a teacher’s version of events should be accepted as a police officer’s would be.
– The closing down of secondary schools when primary schools are filled to bursting. The thousands of tax payer-trained teachers who are unable to get a job whilst overseas trained teachers are still allowed to do it on the cheap.
I think it would be worth striking over these problems, but I doubt this will ever happen.
TES forums – Well done the NUT & Improving education
I don’t feel too bad today post-Pinot. Little bunged up but other than that fine. The thing that really rankles is that due to my relaxed state and how I’ve been feeling recently I sent MW#1 a couple of random “hello, I feel the need to make contact”- type texts. I now feel pretty disappointed in myself.
I try not to initiate anything with him as I figure if he wants to see me he can make the effort. Naturally, as i’m not very important to him this means we don’t meet up very frequently. According to him I am “intensely interesting”- SO interesting in fact that he feels compelled to see me oooh, once every three months or so.
That’s like, whoa, totally intense, man.
Anyway, i’m going to try not to do any more apologising for my behaviour because he almost never apologises for anything he does, and what he does is far worse than anything I could ever do. I am feeling distinctly unfuckingcharitable towards him at the moment.
I wonder- does he know what it’s like to be alone, how it is to long for someone to hold you and to know that there’s no-one you can really rely on except yourself, and that you yourself fuck up anyway?
“I find you intensely interesting… Why do you think I continue to see you?”
I’ve my own answers of course… but prudence requires that I wait a while before I go proper medieval :D
boxers fracture by radswiki
Steak, fried garlic potatoes and Pinot Noir- Fuck. I am disquieted to discover how much i’ve needed this. This being good food and release.
Typing those [br] means I’m having to concentrate, just as I am as I write this sentence. No ants in sentence. Thank fuck for my Firefox spell checker. Lordy… one and a half glasses, some meat and I am relaxed like I haven’t been in quite a while. Away from the feelings of loneliness and the need to be held. Dexter, meat and good wine. I still long of course. It’s just a break from the usual monotony. Yeah, cooking for myself and drinking with Patrick. Monotony.
Le fuckin’ sigh.
I need a massage. What I crave most is intimacy. I don’t think i’ve had Pinot before… It’s pretty gosh darn good. Ah the disjointed thinking of the Pinot’d up…
I took rather more pleasure in tenderising my steak than usual… I always remember to tuck my thumb under so I don’t end up with a fracture. It felt good to see the spreading blush on my knuckles, but at the same time I thought fuck, i’m going to a place I don’t want to be… But I know that once i’ve sobered up and am mid-way through eating said slab of cow that the bloom will have faded and that i’ll be back where i started.
I know, i’m blogging whilst inebriated, and I know from experience that this is never advisable. I just feel like I have a bit of breathing space, for whatever reason, even though I feel terribly lonesome for arms around me. Sometimes I wish I could go and pick up someone random and take them home, but that’s not going to solve anything is it? Intimacy, that’s what I crave.
I think I might have missed my chance in life, sorry Anonymous Guy- You are very lovely and very supportive and really quite inspiring. I know I am too goddamn lazy to reply to your kind comments- Sorry again. Alas, I figure the way I am, in that I don’t pick up people and can barely sit on the same sofa as the person I care so much for, means that I am set to be alone.
Back to the emotionally repressed Dexter I think. Oh and making goldfish noises as I wander about the house doing washing up. Eee. I’m definitely sleeping with the artificial comfort of the the hot water bottle tonight…
touch – by only alice (edited) – a CC Share Alike image
I have spent the last few days home alone whilst Aunty (eee) Caversham Princess gets blown around the Lake District with Bobby Convey. Back home with me much wandering around the house semi-clad has been going on as well as occasional half hour sessions of shaking what little my maker gave me outfitted in nowt but my underwear and The Shoes- with socks. Nice. Can You Feel It? by the Jacksons is super-fucking-awesome. Seriously. You NEED to watch the video.
Today I met up with my Mum and some other relations in Lahndahn tahn; I found out that my distant cousin has been seriously battling substance abuse for the last few years. She eventually OD’d, was revived and after this is now one year into rehab, currently trying to put her life back together living in a half way house. Interesting.
was treated to the most scrumptious dinner at the National Dining Rooms in the National Gallery; it was proper lovely- a big pile of rare rump of Norfolk beef with all the trimmings and a wonderfully close-textured steamed lemon sponge pudding. I also had a kir to warm me up :) I am rather glad I did not have to foot the £120 bill…
A lovely place to eat (if a bit on the pricey side); the sort of place with delicious food that would be great to take someone who loved food and appreciated me… I think i’ll have to be sticking to eating alone in Tate Modern.
During my few days solo I have discovered that if I wrap my arms around myself very tightly and tuck my face into my shoulder, it feels a little like I am being hugged by someone. Yes. I am sad. I know.
I brush my face against my skin and breathe in the scent of lilies that lifts off it as it warms; hugging myself is the only way I can get a little hit of the skin-to-skin contact I seem to crave at the moment. Masturbation might be sex with someone I love but intimacy is something that I cannot get by myself. No amount of hot showers and self-medicating self-hugging will fix that.
Sex with myself or another is of great importance in my life but what I truly lust after is the small stuff, the morning after stuff- the holding, hugging, kissing and touching. Being pulled close and held. Reciprocating. Fingers through my hair. Warmth against my back. Ugh… bed and Patrick.
Hooray for two four day weeks.
bare volkswagen by psykle
Apologies for the lack of navel gazing- I’m still alive and do not worry still grumpy about the world. The last few weeks have been somewhat trying with deadlines a plenty for various year groups, parents evenings to sit through and many reports to write.
Not much aside from blanket loving has been happening su casa monky… however, outside the house there is a new Polo parked up on the curb…
Yes, after months of searching and many many crap cars seen my Dad managed to find me Polo number two- I have decided to call him Mr. T; it feels like a sportscar to me having five gears AND reverse, power steering and with a larger engine. It’s a bit of a boring, blend into the background colour (all the better to hide from the thieves I suppose) but it has funny little alloys and electric windows- one of which is admittedly stuck closed :/ however it was a very reasonable price and is in excellent condition.
MR X will live on in my heart having served me SO well for SUCH a long time and having met such a terrible, TERRIBLE demise, but although it feels a little bit like cheating on the lover you’ve just lost in a shipwreck, I am extremely pleased to have such a comfortable little car. MR X lasted me nearly eight years so I am hoping Mr. T will serve me as well… it’s a 1999 model so there’s a few years in it yet, though obviously they don’t build them like they used to…
Every time I open the front door the first thing I find myself doing is checking it’s still where I left it… ugh… Gonna pay for my therapy then you useless little shits?! I must get a steering lock…