Wales , computers, job applications and that

I've been really busy having all sorts of interesting adventures but never mind any of that, I've been thinking about Blackpool. What I think is that had Anthony Burgess lived to write another novel it would have been set in modern blackpool and hailed at the time as a masterpiece dystopian vision of a ruined near-future England. I wish Cthulhu was real, so that he could rise from the nearby waters and devour the pier one chav at a time.

Other than that, my hair has grown slightly longer and no new Nintendo DS games of note have been released. How are you?

Being productive is hard work. Especially when one is fed up. The main issue for me with things like this is that I don't want to be trawling the intertron some fourty years hence and come across this site detailing how fed up I was with various things in my late twenties. That's the reason I'm giving myself for this being only my third post, although there are plenty of others I could go for... the Kurdish refugees staring at me through a small window as I type, for example... or the woeful build quality and slapdash layout of this keyboard, not to mention the fine layer of dust that covers not only that but the rest of the office in which I sit, waiting for the millionth potting of the chipped black on the torn table, so that I might retire to the staffroom and crawl into my sleeping bag to lose myself in the handheld gaming bliss of Mario & Luigi until such time as sleep or sunrise kicks in, whichever is sooner.

Sweet mercy! Pool has been abandoned as Allah has gifted us another modest sprinkling of snow. Everyone drifts off into the crisp, almost sanitary night that has fallen across Hull's skeffier suburbs, seeking a nickel bag, a teenage girl or a scrap. Tempting as it is to join them, I shall remain here and apply plumbers to mushrooms with extreme force.