Dr Vaguelove, Or How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love Heq's Blog

After grappling with it for many months, I've decided not to let Mark's blog worry me any more. I've spent too many nights awake and staring up at the ceiling, and thinking:
Is that me he's talking about? Have I done something wrong? Am I one of those nasty kinds of people he is talking about? And if it's not me, then who is it? And what did they do? What or all those allusions that I can't grasp in aid of? And what does he mean when he says 'if you know what I mean'? And will anybody ask me to the prom?

Paranoia paranoia, everybody's coming to get me, indeed.

No, I have decided this is bad for my mental health. So I'm just going to rest assured in the knowledge that if I did something offensive (which I'd like to think I'm not doing a lot anyway), Heq, being the perfectly reasonable chap he is, would simply come up and discuss it with me (you would, wouldn't you Heq? Heq? Oh God, please don't ALLUDE TO ME!!!), and so I don't need to be so freaked out about it all. And he has successfully reminded me to write a goddamn blog, which is fair enough. I also think he has clearly put himself in first position in the 'updates most often' league as well, what with some people slacking off a bit lately. So good work there Mark. Now what to write, what to write...a sad entry of no real substance sounds about right...

Dan has a blog! Praise the saints. But will he update it? A different matter altogether...pretty good so far though, and definite points for rhyming 'happily' with 'pineappley'. Minus points for mentioning the triple-man action though, I thought that was going to be our special secret time, I'll personally never forget what we shared. Poor Charlie is devestated, I can tell even though he's in Lyttleton, a suburb of course so handy, that it and the activities of all its inhabitants are within visual range of the naked eye from my house. In fact, I saw Si's house getting robbed, but the perpetrator ignored my cries of 'Oi, you!'
Anyway, Wost gets his link back, so you can all go there and congratulate him on his rhyming poetry.

Waz, on the other hand, is in serious danger of losing his link. Serious danger.

After spending the weekend making Christchurch unsafe for bushes, my left arm, Irish people, and goalkeepers, in that order, I have successfully avoided going to university for 3 days so far this week, nice one, so no feedback as yet on my chapter completion of last week. I may stay up all day today as well, because I'm quite practiced at it by now after all, just so I get my lazy-arsed carcass in to speak to Mohammed (my exceedingly tolerant supervisor) about what he thought - which must fall somewhere between so terrible he feels he has to let me know I should stop wasting my time and quit immediately, and so great he needs to ring me and tell me I should be doing a doctorate - because I haven't heard from him, either. So I guess I should take that as no sign of anything. Useful.

What with my latest thing being downloading files like a bastard, inspired by recent entries in Tark's guestbook, and having come independently to the conclusion that waiting for Nic to do something is akin to waiting for the second coming of Christ (it may happen, but who knows if in our lifetimes?), I have tonight ripped from CD / downloaded the Xanadu album playlist, which is currently sitting in a folder on our hard drive just waiting for mass production - which it turns out I can do with our laptop, hurrah. All MP3s have been checked for quality too, and have had to meet exacting standards. Exacting, do you hear me! That's right Nic, I did it in one night, you slacker. I'm trying to find the 'B sides' as well, although I'm not sure there are a lot of folks about on Kazaa with Hugh and the New Zealanders or Wendyhouse MP3s, so perhaps I shall leave this task to those in posession of the appropriately esoteric CD collections (Dan, I'm looking at you here). Unfortunately, the main list at 77 minutes total comes irritatingly to just over one CD's worth, so the the person in supposedly charge of the project (Nic, ideas man) may have to nominate a cut to the list, or perhaps the general Xanadu public would like to make a vote on a cut, or if we throw a few more songs in (er, off the top of my head, The Police? What else did we initially suggest?) and make it a triple CD, 2 normal ones and the B sides. Yeah. I've got nothing better to do than sit here and watch little grey bars extend slowly to the right, after all (GO, my pretties!!! That's it, yes, that's it!!!AAAAhahaHAhahahahaHAAAAAA...)

On Monday PvP had some spelling errors (He used 'to' instead of 'too' Tim! And I thought you were the only person in the world who couldn't grasp the difference). I wrote Scott Kurtz an e-mail. And he fixed it! But did I get a reply? Hell no...damn web cartoonists. Still, he probably got notification from a thousand like-minded pedants - his fan base is geeks after all...but nonetheless I can't help but feel that all successful people are bastards. Every single last one of them. And they should all be killed.

Oops, went mad there again. I must write these things at a more sensible time of the day.

And that'll about do it I reckon. Except I must congratulate Ham for successfully ringing his Mum, she was pleased to hear from you. Nice work,my Mum was getting upset. Now write a bloody blog you bastard and let us know what you're up to. Oh, an everyone come to Sara's exhibition at Bloc on Friday evening - to see her rather nifty art of course, but also to look at what a good job I did hammering nails in the wall. Oh yeah, I got it going on, baby.

More of substance anon.
Flourish; exeunt.