Gorgeous graphic designers

I've decided the world is full of gorgeous graphic designers, talented technobods, savvy social commentators ...

... and me!

I can't draw, got bored with tech talk, and the only social I know is the noisy one round the corner that closes at 11pm.

Perhaps as a result, occasional posts may be severely affected by the afluence of incohol or an excess of caffeine depending on the time of day.

I may have fallen in love though, with the girl on the front cover of my bus timetable. She holds a mobile phone to her ear and wears a beautiful smile. Just need to get her number from the bus company ...

Listening to: "Ivy and Neet", This Mortal Coil
Feeling: brain dead after a sober evening

Dear Blog ...

--This post wasn't written about Blogger.com but I thought I'd add it here so you can see how frustrating some blog platforms can be.--

Ok, blog, this is it! I've had it up to here with you.

All I want you to do is to show these blog pages the right way, in all browsers. That means Firefox, Opera, Safari and yes, even Internet Explorer, cos that's what I have to use in Internet cafes.

I want the menu bits in the right place, not pushed out of the way whenever it suits you and I want the titles and text in the colours I choose, not some random combination from your watercoloury imagination.

Don't give me all that moany stuff about resolution, DPI and colour bit depth. It's bad enough that you only produce those quirky mode pages and that you use all these ugly tables. Hey, it's the 21st century here, we've all moved on. Well all except you anyway!

Look, blog, I don't mean to shout at you. I just want you to be an intelligent, shiny blog that does what he's told, when he's told.

Is it too much to ask?

It's a sad state of affairs when a man has to talk to his own blog, but when sweat and graft don't work, you have to try voodoo.

Currently playing: "The Bends", Radiohead
Mood: grrrrrrrrrrrr

Where's the Dalai Lama?

Just read a particularly depressing news article, Brain damage link to memory lapse, talking about memory loss being the first sign of Alzheimer's. Now if there is a word that's garaunteed to send shivers down my spine, that's it.

There might be a glimmer of hope - a suggestion the disease could be hindered by keeping an active brain.

Ok, now I'm panicking! How do you keep an active brain? Where did I put those suduko books? Quick, find a novel. What political movement can I join? Where's the Dalai Lama, I need to talk to him!

Maybe I can forget I read this?

Currently playing: "The Baudelaire Orphans", Thomas Newman
Feeling: shaky

Spring Clean

This blog has had a short and frustrating two week lifespan, not helped by a host of design annoyances. I can't live somewhere unless I can get my spray can out and at least get a bit of colour on the wall, but I've done about as much as I can for the time being.

So I stopped and had a look around to see what had crept in here. Amongst the ramblings, I found lots bits of bitterness, insincerity and general groaniness. Yuck.

I've now given the place a dust and a hoover, thrown some words out and given the rest a good scrubbing down. Hopefully the place will be slightly brighter now.

the Jools report

Raul Midón quietly blew me apart with his masterful guitar and how can anyone keep an entire jazz quartet in their mouth?

There was something strangely rejuvenating about The Flaming Lips' rendition of Black Sabbath's War pigs and I could've listened to Cat Power's groovy soul all night.

Have to report though that I've fallen hopelessly in love with the violinist from Divine Comedy. She's got such sexy calves.

Mood: butterflies in me tum-tum

Reasons almost two

Reasons one and one and a half.

Then there's remembering

Memory is a fragile thing and somewhere along the line, mine broke. I forget things, like the milk, the name of the person I’m speaking to, my bus pass, how to be nice, good memories, bad times.

I mean, have you ever been in a conversation with a mate, just about to tell him how many pairs of shoes your girlfriend of 10 years bought yesterday, when suddenly ... you, eh, can't remember her name?

What!?

Runs and hides under a bush. It's a bit like the deja Vu scene in the Matrix. Chatting away automatically, then ... stumbling silence! ... someone comes along with brain tipex and just wipes it out. Like there was a hole where her name should've been. I mean, she hadn't even been nasty to me (until she found out that is).

How can such a thing happen???

And that was just the start. I find my self flitting around like a lost butterfly, can’t concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes at a time. It could be a sign of age, or the onset of some age related psychological disorders that I don't even want to begin to think about. Luckily I can't remember what they're called.

But there are some benefits. It means you can forget old pain, it means you can make the same mistakes over and over again. It means I can listen to Dark Side of the Moon, after years of gritting my teeth at the most overplayed album ever to plague the planet's airwaves.

Now, what was I saying?

Oh yes, so you see this journal is mainly for me, so that I can look back in the days ahead and remember what's supposed to be on my shopping list.

"Carrots." Eh? "On the shopping list, carrots please, lots of nice fresh ones." Oh.

Currently playing: Remember You're a Womble, by eh ... ?
Mood: frustrated

Bakerman is bakin' bread

The night train is coming,
got to keep on running

Sometimes my blood goes on the boil.
Sometimes I mope.
Sometimes I want to expire.

Bakerman by Laid Back chills me down every time.

You got to cool down,
relax,
an' take it easy

Mood: chilled

Reasons one and a half

Reasons one can be found here.

But why make it public?

Why don’t I simply keep a private diary and avoid the risk of polluting the minds of ordinary mortals?

Well, if I kept a private journal then, well, eh, I wouldn’t keep one, if you see what I mean. It would only ever be looked at briefly, years or decades later, at the point where it got thrown out (I’m really not materialistic and hate junk and old things stored in corners). So simply because it might become clutter, I won’t keep a written journal. The idea that this ephemeral electronic data is stored somewhere away from my immediate vicinity, no mess on my desk, feels really neat. At a click, it can all be deleted if I feel the need for a digital spring clean.

There’s also a sense of responsibility involved with publishing a journal online, even when the only audience will him in the mirror. Not responsibility for what the content might be. That's a choice for the reader, and what's unsuitable in one person's mind is acceptable in another's. I mean a responsibility to write here. The Internet is a place of anonymous passers by. It doesn't matter whether visitors stop and say hello, it's just the knowing they're there that gives me the poke in the curlies needed to get writing. I'd have no motivation otherwise.

And anyhow, I just like being Bunnyman, and that's something that's only possible here.

Currently playing: Sex Dwarf, Christian Death
Mood: mischievous, teasing

Reasons one

So, "Why blog"? Why keep an on-line journal?

Well, reason one is to write. This bunny has a complete lack of writing skill. The O-level ‘E’ grade certificate in English is so old, its crumbling. I can’t write to save myself.

There's stuff in my head that I need to prise out, but I haven't got a clue how to do it. Finding the word combinations to describe the subtle but worthless meanderings in my compost heap of a mind doesn't come easily.

If someone mentioned "Tennyson", I'd turn around thinking to see an old man offering me a racket and a furry ball. Give me soduko or jigsaws any day. Logic and visuals I can do, but scrabble? Hopeless!

Well when you get something you can't do, the only way to make any progress with it is to do it. So I've plonked a thesaurus and an Oxford English on my desk amongst the other paraphernalia, and I'm going to give it a go.

If anyone's passing by and feels they've been exposed to unintelligible rabbit-like mumbling then apologies are in order. Sadly, Star Trek's universal translators haven't been invented yet and even if they had, they might not cater for broken bunny-language.

Currently playing: Reasons to be Cheerful, Ian Drury
Mood: stubborn

Brighter reds

Hmm, can't believe I did that, opened up the ugliness and spewed it all out. Bunny people are normally quite shy and retiring creatures. That's it, no more! Not like that anyway.

Need to find some fresh air now.

Came across these in a country park near me. Colourful aren't they?

Alcoholic state: sober (I'm driving)
Currently playing: bugger all, MP3 battery's died
Current mood: lumpy

journal of a Bunnyman

An introspective examination of my dirty laundry originally hung here. I've sent it out on long term loan to the wastbin.

...... ...... ...... ...... ...... ...... ...... ......
dirty bits removed
...... ...... ...... ...... ...... ...... ...... ......

Currently playing: nothing, but if I was it would be Depeche Mode, Stripped

Blue and Lilac

They get bigger by just a little if you click on them.

Blue

Lilac

great id-id-id, nope it's gone

Had a great idea for a post, but by the time I'd logged on I'd forgotten what it was. So here's a piccy instead. Somewhere I occasionally take my head to feel better.

My memory's broke, anyone got a spare?

Listening to: Brian Eno playing something esoteric
Feeling: tired

Hic!

This morning (maybe afternoon) is like looking through a soft focus lens. How did it all get so bright?

My tongue feel like someone else's and it's all muddy.

I drank way too much last night, which might explain the hic-bubbly musical post.

Need coffee. Uh, oh, a feelings coming ... ugh, gotta go, gotta run ...

My exotic dolls

Jools Holland has just been on and I just have to share this temporary blip of happiness.

First off, The Automatic "What's that coming over the hill, is it a monster?" What a great piece of jingly, jangly guitar, super.

The Fratellis - these guys are one to watch, this stuff sounds great, and they're from Bunnyhome.

A quick word on the Dixie Chicks. I've added them to my Glorious list (more on that later). Don't get me wrong, I'm not a strong country pop fan and I won't be running out to buy their new CD, but they've been having a really hard time in their home country recently. Death threats and other quite nasty behaviour and more recently cancelled tour dates due to boycotts of their concerts, and all for expressing an opinion about their president chappie.

Well where I stand the ability to express an opinion is pretty fundamental. Yes, that means you can stand up after this post and say that Bunnyman is dreary and flat and boring and pants and I'll never end up on Gogle because, well because my blog is just rats pee, and I'm just a big rabbit dropping.

Anyway, so the Dixie Chicks are going on my Glorious list.

WOW, what do you think of Gogol Bordello? Wild streaks of brash yellow fun and gorgeous accordion. As Phil Jupiter put it, "it's like the Pogues and the Clash coming together and having a huge fight in Eastern Europe".

So I'm struggling to say whether I thought The Automatic or Fratellis or Gogol Bordello were the best band tonight, but it's impossible really, they were all brilliant.

They all got pipped at the post though by The Dresden Dolls. Jools didn't like this pair much, but what a simply magnificent piece of gaudy, loud and exotic, colour. Yes, I know their sound wasn't good tonight, but trust me, they do sound much, much better than this.

That's it. Wonderful!

Gamma-ray bye-bye

I don't know why I get so fascinated by what goes on in the sky. Maybe it's the big numbers thing, Bunnyboys are always interested in big numbers.

My latest craze is for Long Gamma Ray Bursts (gamma rays are the things that jump out of nuclear explosions and melt our skin)

Lovely colour, isn't it.

These seem to be all the rage out there in space, apparently with some of them emitting over a thousand ergs of energy. Ooeeerr and wolligogs, must take quite a lot of chickens, that.

I was wondering if the birth of a blog might generate that sort of energy, but sadly not.

If one of these little bursts happened in our galaxy, it would destroy the ozone layer, remove all my grey hair and cause huge profits for sun-lotion companies. Luckily there are only 3 stars in our galaxy that are mean enough and they're busy arguing among themselves as to who's going to be the first, so it probably won't happen tonight.

Don't you get a really quite warm and fuzzy about living in a place where we are all so completely insignificant? The fact that the human race will one day be wiped out by a tiny cosmic event is something that stops me feeling so depressed. So party out tonight, peepsies, just in case we go bye-bye tomorrow.

Killing the Taxman

Wonder if I've got a mild case of nostomania for this blog?

What's that? well it arrived in the mail today (one of those word mailing list thingies), so I thought I'd unwrap it and put it here on a post to see how it looked.

No, silly, what does it mean. Oh, sorry. It says it means "An overwhelming desire to return home or to go back to familiar places" ... Hmmm, but wait. That's funny. its not in my Oxford dictionary (my big heavy one). Closest is nostos: "a homeward journey ... esp. as the conclusion of a literary work."

I wonder if someone's pulling my leg?

Anyway, I feel happy today. Not used to feeling happy, feels all kind of bristly and giggly. Does anyone know how to kill the taxman by the way? You know, in a nice way so that he's really dead but it didn't hurt him?

Listening to: The Doors, "Strange Days"

Feeling: like I'm standing in the middle of a field of sunflowers

Hello blogspot

Hello, if anyone's passing.

Right, let's start a blog here. Due to my lack of imagination, it'll probably be pretty much a copy of my existing blog over at Little Stitches to start. Not sure where it's going to go from there yet.

OK, so one or two posts about this place then I'll have to work out how to blog :-)