sunday 29th february
off the topic entirely - i'm too comfy and mellow for being properly serious at the moment - with a flashback to andy haslam for no reason whatsoever but this: words, right? two sorts: good and bad. connotationally, not semantically, i mean. so. use a word and a tiny invisible '+' or '-' dings up next to it. you can sway the flow of emotion within sentences by carefully chosing where to use positive and negative dinger words. today's very cryptic (and hence my favourite type of) entry was going to be 'work in the afternoon with little interuption but much distraction.' but 'interruption' and 'distraction' ding negatives where they should be positive. if you get what i mean.

saturday 28th february
'i've got so many pairs of trainers' are dangerous words for a girl if you know me. if you don't i can get away with it by saying nothing.

tueday 24th february
'confound those fools!'

sunday 22nd february
is she there? did you say that in front of her?



saturday 21st february
party food for people who've had a shit week at mine starring me and dairy lea with guest appearances by tommy t-bag 'the spoffman' and 'no nickname choosy' susie. on all fronts a get together.



friday 20th february
all about numbers. stock market crash on a personal scale.

tuesday 17th february
thanks so much for coming round. we needed some humour. hope you catch up on a bit of sleep. see ya soon'

monday 16th february
all my stuff and tom's xbox.

thursday 12th february
i had to look up 'quorum' in the dictionary.

wednesday 11th february
'Mark, You really don't know what you have started! my bro is a nutter. He reckons he can get them 1km in the air. Not only that, but apparently he asked a girl at his work for iron filings from the lab. What have you done?

He'll be after plutonium next - 'but I can get it to go 10,000m and orbit space!' I have warned Debs and requested that he be banned from certain
pleasures cause he aint listening to me. aaaaaah...

it's gonna end in a bad way I can see it - nev'

tuesday 10th february
it gets worse. i innocently enough check my emails and there's one from al with only one line: 'I think you know what im sayin...' i open the first attachment, shuddering at it's title, '< mofo2.zip >'. then the second. real terror struck - a cigar tube. after overcoming the initial shock i actually looked at what he had created in detail. my first question was answered with: 'Mate, its fucking SpaceCad - 'course its realistic!' but the second was rather more worrying: 'It will be - not made yet... [and no, the 'yet' isn't the bit i'm scared of:]

Should be able to get an E6 in - giving it a top speed of 330mph and a maximum ceiling of about 680m. in other words - a fucking quick cigar tube. Only problem is, in order to keep it stable I need to weight up the nose cone with something pretty solid. Without a parachute the little fucker is gonna hit the ground with a mighty thump...

Heheheheh...'

in the suitably screechy voice of janice, 'oh. my. god.' all accidents, personal injury or ridiculous failures will be reported.



also in the inbox was a picture of sophie james, daughter of my good friends matt and susie, who you probably don't know yet probably should. hello over there, welsh people! she's got matt's insane grin (trust me, a permanent ficture) and susie's eyes. the lucky little thing.

monday 9th february
'you're a creative tour de force, anna.'
'i know. it gets very windy round here...'



sunday 8th february
'it's dry outside but pretty windy.'

al waking me up reminded me of a snowboarding holiday, where the weather report very much determines the type of day's activities. with funky or steve it relates to how far we suppose we can see up the mountain, therefore how fast we can go and how long we can survive. with al it related to whether it was too windy to launch his rocket or not (he's quite eager) and therefore, again, how long we can survive. but no. it was worse than that. an hour later, he walked in again. it was an announcement.

'mate... check out mofo one, heh heh heh.'

i turned round, wiping the sleep out of my eyes and saw him holding what i can describe as a toilet roll tube with a christmas tree bauble rammed in the end and two clips - you'd use to keep telephone lines on the skirting boards - on one side and some dowel cellotaped to the other. the explosives had been stuffed in the end with two wires trailing out of a pink bung. the horror. it was apparently too windy to risk losing the one that we had even a little bit of confidence in but this was territory only al could create. he'd had to improvise. anyone who knows al squints at this sort of thing. nev walked in, looked over al's shoulder, saw what he was holding opened his mouth, turned and walked out in silence. pretty much summed it up.



so off we went to the big field. if you know cambridge, well, it's terrain is notable for it's flatness. fen land and chalk or something. i dunno. anyway, it was bastard windy. he stood back, unwound the cable as far as it could go and pressed the buttons. it shot up at a ridiculously fast speed, started cartwheeling back on itself, looping the loop, and we all, except alex, ducked. it hit the ground still firing about fifty feet away.



'best wait for a calm day,' nev, spencer and i agreed. alex walked back, white teeth everywhere, 'that's got some thrust!' he shouted over. typical sunday morning at al's, i'd say. and as usual, i am completely blameless.

'my mate al,' i can say, 'can build a rocket before he even gets dressed.'

dad returned from checking the key scratch in lbc's side with a rhetorical, 'they did a good job on that, didn't they?' shortly followed by 'that's london.' i agreed because it's true.

mum had roast pork on the go and dad finished my lounge table. it's a beauty. all square edged and nicely proportioned. does a good mortice and tennon does my dad. top work that grandad.



saturday 7th february
the point of a birthday present is surely to make someone feel good. for al that's making him laugh, which i don't find too hard to do. so what did i get a pyromaniac for his birthday? oh, too easy. explosives!

on another note, i was wondering if al's chicken would get along with alison's restaurant's chicken.



friday 6th february
the upstairs j somehow has a copy of 'lost in translation' so chumpy popped over to see it. nice. and another nice sign that i got off the bus to shoot. i was sure i didn't read it right the first time. you can read it any way you want.

funky text messaged me whilst celebrating jamie's birthday at 'the kitchen' with 'm8, ur in dcmnt [document snowboard magazine] this month!' and with that the excitement began. it turns out he'd sent in this picture of me in the tignes park when i was ill last month to cheer me up. and it runs the full sidth of the page! how chuffed am i?



thursday 5th february
gt4s going to be good.



wednesday 4th february
ge club tokyo style.

sunday 1st february
took tom to ikea and met dairy lea and suzie.


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