A Day Late and a Dollar Short

Oops, been a bit quiet of late. Not that there's been nothing going on, I just haven't been putting fingers to keys on it. I aim to remedy that over the next few days, starting with a new Gore Watch tomorrow, so keep your eyes peeled! In the meantime, a little round-up.

Over on my flickr account you may just spy some photos of the recent wedding of glamour mavens Claudia and Morgan.


A thoroughly enjoyable affair, all very civilised and low key. Actually, it really did occur to me that a small, intimate wedding is actually much nicer in a way than the usual big, raucous celebration. I've always been puzzled by the amount of anguish wedding planning causes people. Okay, so you want a special day, but is it worth all the grief? Anyway, check them photos to see the final acknowledgement from Morgan and Claudia that, yes, they are actually a couple.


And speaking of celebrations, we also moseyed along to add goodwill to Andrea's turn to the Brit side. Yes, my Singaporean pal is now my British pal. I didn't make the ceremony itself, but Alex went to administer hugs, and took a few photos besides.


We all met at moored boat/bar The English Maid before heading back to Andrea's for British foods. Needless to say I ate too much machine-recovered meat and wound up feeling the worse for wear. Nice evening though.

Also, as mentioned earlier I went to the Bristol convention for work.


On the whole a much more enjoyable experience than I thought it would be. Helped by the fact that the boss paid for everything over the weekend. Hell, even offered to pay us back for money we spent on drinks on the Saturday night. That felt a bit much like taking the piss, but I still spent virtually nothing over the weekend. Met a bunch of people (including a comic-creator studded dinner), sold a bunch of graphic novels, and drunk less than I would have hoped. Man, the service in the bar at the Ramada sucked.

On the viewing front, I'm currently working my way through Nigel Kneale's old ATV series Beasts.


The cover image, by the way, is from the story "Dummy", where a man who plays a rubber-suit Godzilla clone goes barmy. I do love these old British talky horror shows. At their best (and Kneale is one of the best) they offer a masterclass in psychological unease through dialogue, sound, and minimal practical effects. "During Barty's Party", for example, in which a couple are besieged by rats.


At no point do we see a rat. Rather, as the story develops, the sound of the rats beneath the floor of the house gets louder and progressively layered. Scratching, gnawing sounds, small at first, but ultimately deafening. Particularly unsettling is the moment the couple realise that they are being followed around the house, indicated by a rustling hiss of rat bodies chasing their footsteps. Great stuff.

And finally, I've been whiling away all my oodles of spare time on Lord of the Rings Online.


Indefensible in the face of all the things I should be doing, but I'm enjoying it a great deal.