I'm older, and its official. Too be honest I can't say I noticed the clock tick past midnight or even felt the weight of another year fall onto my shoulders. I was too busy reading. For the first time in a long time I decided to get out my dusty old omnibus of "The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy". I must have read Douglas Adams' adventures of Arthur Dent half a dozen times during and after my student years. Whether I've read it or not I've always taken it with me on long haul flights and car journeys partly for entertainment, partly as something to take my mind from whatever tedium I'm forced to endure, but mostly because it reminds me of home; sitting back on the sofa with a warm mug of coffee, trying not to nod off before the next chapter. It's often tag-lined as being "A Trilogy in Five Parts", not quite as catchy as "A Trilogy in Four Parts" which it used to be known as but at least its accurate. Too be honest I was never enthralled by the fifth and final book "Mostly Harmless". I never got over how easily Adams dissolved Fenchurch -- I understand how a miserable Arthur is probably better from a story-writers perspective but I think most readers wanted her to stay for a little longer. If there was an absolute requirement to bump her off Adams could have at least give her a decent death. Maybe having her eaten by the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal while a helpless Arthur tries not to peep under the towel covering his head. Thankfully I have to read through four more books to get to "Mostly Harmless". So what has the last twelve months brought me? One on the biggest changes has been the introduction of my neice. Babies are very strange creatures; how can something so small have such an emotional affect on those around them? I've recently been thinking of what my main uncle/godfather duties are. So far I've come up with these three rules:-

• being there when she needs someone to make her smile,
• making a confusing world a little less complex,
• keeping her pockets full of change.

Admitedly the second and third rules don't really apply until she can a) converse to a limited degree and b) understand the concept of money, but I think the first rule should be enough for the moment. What do I think the future will bring, to answer that I need look to the past. There are two main aspects that I would like to change; work and play. Firstly regarding my career: For the last few years I've been playing a game which is now getting a little repetative and I've finally come to realise that I don't think I'll win anytime soon and now is the time to either change my hand or find a new game to play. Maybe I need a totally different game genre to help whet the edge I've allowed to dull in recent years. The second aspect of my existance I need to address is my playtime; I need to concentrate on the teachings of the Flying Spaghetti Monster and find me what every pirate should have. (Is that "a parrot" I hear you cry?) I needs me a wench. Preferably buxom with a large bank balance and a vested interest in her fathers whiskey distillery, but I'm not really that choosey anymore. Anyone who makes me smile, shows me the world, or keeps change in my pocket will do. An old friend of mine has some interesting views on the current state of popular literature on his website.

The Dickens classic always been one of my favourite stories; its got 3 ghosts, 2 deaths and a little cripple boy, what more could the reader want ? As it happens some kind folks at Project Gutenberg have been good enough to key in the entire book for you to download, but as it is Christmas I've provided a link to my own version that you can browse online. For those who like to turn the pages of a real book I've provided links to Amazon where you can purchase a paper copy. A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens.

It's that time of year again; a fortnight before Christmas and I can already sense the ghosts of yuletides past creeping up on me and bringing back memories of yesteryears seasonal sins. The only redeeming feature of this "holiday season" is that I have somehow managed to avoid taking any vacation time off work and have a stupidly large number of days to spend. I don't know why I bother, I never know what to do, but at least I can do it without having to wake up an some Godawful hour of the morning. Its the mornings that get to me; 9:00 o'clock and it's still dark, dank and miserable. The evenings aren't much better, or lighter. How come the term "Holiday Season" has started to creep into the language? I can recall there being winter, summer, autumn and spring but have no recollection of "holiday". I believe its because some poxy conservative white protestant bureucrat is afraid to remind people who have migrated to this country that this once great nation is primarily made up of white anglosaxon Christians. Whilst most of these Christians are not wholly devout the majority do like to be reminded of the story (and I repeat STORY) of Jesus. Christmas is a celebration of a time when some poor unfortunate Jewish girl was knocked up in time for Chanukah and was so afraid to tell her dad of adolesent springtime fumblings behind the goatshed that she figured it'd be easier to say an angel had "visited" her. The only real difference between now and then is that most petrified impregnated teenagers these days haven't got the nerve to blag it; let's face it, your benefits are bound to be affected if you put down "God" as the father. Enough misery for now.

I woke up this morning and turned on the TV. As with every other morning before it I started to nod off again, there's something about early morning TV shows that encourages you to sleep -- maybe it's that Fiona Phillips women. Anyway, just as I'm settling down for a wee morning snoozette I became aware of a great evil. Suddenly I felt a shiver run down my spine. Infront of me I could see a red mist rolling over the Lancastrian horizon and hear the faint footfalls of some heavily laden beasts. Then all became clear. Somehow North Korea had test fired a nuclear weapon -- who in the name of Jehova gave these people nukes? A couple of decades ago the most technologically advanced weapon in the whole of Korean involved a great deal of elastic and some bits of bamboo. Finding out that North Korea had let one off was somewhat disturbing, but not as disturbing as the wave of nausea that flowed over me when I realized what had to come next. Enveloped in a cloud of red, white and blue smoke I could see a lone figure on the horizon. The figure held aloft a six shooter and let off a few of his own. George "Dubya" Bush was on the case; he'd teach these commie bastards a thing or two about kicking nuclear ass. I started to think back to Star Wars and the rise of the Empire; I'm just waiting for the moment that Dubya is voted special emergency powers by the senate and orders a clone army of Jarheads to fight the good fight for democracy, for world peace, for the oil (wait, thats not right). I've just taken a quick look on digg.com and am proud to see that one of the bonus elements to come out of the destruction of New Orleans (remember that place, the one which Duyba left to hang out to dry -- literally). It appears that the influx of out-of-state workmen has significantly raised the level of prostitution in the City. I've never really seen the problem with prostitution, as long as the girl/guy involved is doing so willingly then why should there be such a moral issue. Let's face it, I whore myself out to a large corporate every day, eeking away my soul and dignity with each mindless policy and procedure I'm forced to endure. I think the problem of prostitution boils down to old religious bigotry. A long, long time ago, in a fallacy far, far away, a bunch of really insecure beardy blokes got together around a campfire and decided that they were giving too much denari to the local whores and were basically being treated like a bunch of bitches -- they were brassic man, stoney broke. I feel it is my duty to state that these beardly blokes are not related to the biker/beer-swigging, happy beardy blokes that I've spoke of earlier -- they are quite happy to throw their denari at a frolicking fillie. So, back to the ancient beardy blokes, they got their heads together and came up with a plan that would ensure all the other men wouldn't want to give money to women and make the ladies feel inferior -- they were going to make whoring an offence to God/Yahweh/Allah -- needless to say, deities don't visit women -- that'd be soooo wrong cause they are dead duurty, so women will just have to believe the beardy ones, or be stoned to death as disbelievers. Of course, men are men, and some of the beardy blokes had great difficultly in keeping their boners in their robes. They started to get all embarrased having giant boners in the presence of their camels, so they decree'd that God/Yahweh/Allah had commanded them that all women should cover there face along with the rest of their body to avoid temptation, and that whores should be cast aside, so far aside that they wouldn't even accrue taxation. Back in the real world, I've got some advice for you: If you don't want to see women, cut out your own eyes; if you don't want to embarass your camel with your tiny boners cut off your cocks -- don't oppress or brainwash your women into believing that wrapping themselves in acres of body-condoms are good thing for them.

It was a spare of the moment decision; should I go home, or should I pop around and see my old friend Cllr Mullen. As it happens I was quite lucky to just catch him coming home from the Labour Conference. With great excitement he informed me that for the last couple of days he'd been hanging around with the stars of Emmerdale and Coronation Street as well as those two shifty blokes named Blair and Brown. Forgetting about foreign policy or the state of the economy, his primary concern was who's sleeping with who in Emmerdale. The councillor yesterday experienced a few more of his 15 minutes of fame when a cunningly placed sign with the daubing "Pick Me" held above John's head, was picked out by the host. If someone can find a clip of his moment of fame (repeated on BBC Parliament, apparently) please forward it on. It looks like Hannah has finally got a date for her Christening; unfortunately the original choice of Godmother will be out of the country for the actual event (bobbing around the US and generally getting up to no good) so it looks like Hannah will be the lucky owner of two Godmothers -- one who will be at the event, and another who'll be there in spirit. From a Godfather perspective this is quite a good turn of events, 'cause it means there will have to be two booze-up's -- thus doubling the opportunity to get them very, very drunk... (only kidding S & K :-) ) Of course the drinking is not the only reason for the ceremony, the real reason is to provide the child with a moral and spiritual rolemodel. As part of the Christening deal, the little churub has to be presented to a congregation eager to take on fresh blood; this basically involves carting her down to church and hoping that she doesn't decide to scream the place down. In recent years I've only been to church on a few occasions; christenings, weddings, funerals, bahmitzvahs (strike that last one) -- I don't believe that going to a large hall every week and praying to a God automatically makes you a better person; for the faithful, your reward will be based on how you lived your life, and how you treated others, not by how closely you follow religious dogma. The most prominant reason for not turning up for regular mass was recalling the hours of fire & brimstone given by past priests. So I was rather surprised that the current priest made the hour long service fly-by -- at one point I did actually check the clock to see if I'd really been there an hour. The resident GJ (God-Jockey) Fr Manock should be praised for the upbeat manner in which he puts across God's message, especially his use of song during the service. For those wishing to find out more about the ministry, and especially those wishing to donate to the "New Church" appeal, please visit www.radcliffecatholic.org.

It's been a while since I last did any real coding; I've found that doing it for a living somewhat interferes with those creative juices that are needed to oil the thinking process. Anyway, I've been inspired by an interesting web site www.oceangram.com into writing a simple "message in a bottle" type random chat client that can be added to any web site. If you want to play around with it just drop me a note and I'll send you the code you need to paste into your webpage. The client is inobtrusive, if you want to send a message just key it into the text box in the top right of this page and press the send button. You will be told if there is a message waiting for you, to read it just click on the "message available" text. Also on the theme of new stuff, my sister eventually did hatch, not the 6/6/06 as predicated but a few days later. Here's an "arty" black and white photo of Hannah. **UPDATE**: The Javascript chat client has been removed after I noticed it was slaughtering my webserver... Methinks it'll need a bit of recoding :-)

Was enticed by the lovely Angela to watch Miami Vice yesterday, I believe her main reason for wanting to see the film was based entirely on Colin Farrell taking one of the lead roles. I do have a vague memory of the TV show from the 80's; fast cars, flash suits, highly tanned female forms and the cool synthesised music -- but don't ask me if I can remember the plot of any single episode. When it comes to the 2006 remake they've still got the cars, they've still got the suits and they've retained the tanned babes, even the music, albeit different, isn't too bad. Remarkably they've also developed a plotline which, rather like the original series, is entirely unmemorable, presumably this is so "Miami Vice 2: Bigger Boats for the Buoys" can share not only the same cast but also the same story. The main element of the film which leaves a "no friggin' way" doubt in your mind is the presence of Farrell's facial hair; when the film started my first thought was that the director had made the extremely bold move of making a gay Crockett -- sure, it would have given the film a marginally wider audience, but it feels out of character with the 80's original. I almost expected Don Johnson to jump out of the scenery with a razor in an effort to diminish the mockery of a character that made him a household name. Farrell definately got the dodgier 'tache but at least he got the most shagging; although I imagine Farrell probably insisted on so much hetro action after seeing the facial fuzz that he'd be forced to wear. If you've got money burning a hole in your pocket and absolutely nothing to do then go and see the film, but don't expect too much from it. There were several moments in the film where dialogue between the main characters didn't seem to make sense; they used English words but I didn't have any grasp of the semantics or context, presumably this is because I'm not an undercover member of the vice squad. The plot was extremely predictable and I just got the feeling that I'd seen the film before. Wait to rent the DVD or watch it when it hits satellite/cable.

After spending the previous weekend in Puerto Banus on a company paid back-slapping exercise I was disappointed to find that the my "man flu" was making a return for the upcoming weekend. While in a muscus filled delerium I was acosted by ones heavily pregnant sister to go see "The DaVinci Code". Good Jesus, it was tedious -- I almost wanted the sister to drop the kid during the film so I'd have an excuse to get the hell out of there, but was reminded during the trailers that 6.6.06 was almost upon us and I could be uncle to the Devil's Spawn -- all she has to do is keep her legs crossed for another week.

I remember reading the Dan Brown book. From what I can recall it was a fast enough read with fairly short chapters (a mechanism to prevent yanks from nodding off) and a controvertial storyline that attacked the Catholic church and helped finish off the last Pope (God bless the little fella). I don't get what the big deal is, so what if some bloke called Jesus had a ex-whore for a wife -- as long as there's tread on the tyres who gives a damn. Forgiving the questionably implausible storyline the film had two main failings.

Firstly, the female lead never got her kit off, not that the pigeon breasted French bird did anything for me, it's just it would have made the film less tedious; and secondly, Tom Hanks never died during the filming. Surely if there was a God He'd have looked down on all of His creation and smited Hanks, preferably in a painful way. On second thoughts, maybe God just didn't want to endure yet another "Hanks" mini-season on TV -- which I'm hoping some TV exec would have the called "A load of old Hank". Stay tuned for some "I'm a TOM HANKER" sudoku puzzles. This weekend saw the first gathering of the St Mary's old boys for almost 15 years -- anyone who remembers St Mary's (Radcliffe) and Peter's/Monica's (Prestwich) from the 80's and 90's are welcome to have a beer with us during our next meeting -- which will be announced here before the actual event happens. I'll also be converting the www.bonkers-in-bury.co.uk website into a forum and offering email redirects for anyone interested.

Another weekend is over and we're steam-rollering into the summer season -- it's not that I hate summer time, far from it, the longer, brighter days are a lot less miserable than the winter equivalent, its just that with the sun comes exhaustingly hot days, sleepless sweaty nights and a new wave of those little buzzing bleeders know as wasps. There's nothing worse than waking up to *that* humming noise, and listening intensly to try and figure out where it is and more importantly which way its heading. I know they are smaller than me and that the harm they could do would be short lived, its just a matter of the inconveniance of finding a slipper/newspaper/book and clearing the resultant mess made when its tiny body is rapidly introduced to my weapon of choice and the window. Of course, wasps aren't the only creature to come out at summer. I've also got to contend with ants, flying ants, arrogant little bleeders that stubbornly try to invade the house every year. Nothing stops 'em, not bleach, not ant powder, possibly not even molten lava, though I've not got any actual lava to test the theory. Speaking of hot places, the Australian government announced last week that they are to allow any holiday workers to apply for up to a years extension to their visa if they spend part of their time working within certain seasonal and agricultural sectors. Full details of the Australian visa extension scheme are available on the BBC's website.

It's been over a fortnight since a bout of "man-flu" knocked me for six, infact there was a half written blog that I've just deleted which I never got around to completing or publishing while attempting to stem the river of mucus that seemed to eminate from most of my front facing orafices - it was not a pleasant sight to behold. In typical fashion I only really started to feel better on the Sunday evening which pretty much meant that my Friday night and Saturday were ruined; being ill on work time is almost forgivable, but being ill on my own time ? Obviously these bugs have NO sense of fairplay. I've been trying, and may I add failing, to do less geek-like things; for some reason I have a strange notion that building a distributed filesystem similar to the one used by Google is the way of the future and have in some small way been trying to emulate the filey goodness of the Lord Google using the Java language. My first port of call was obviously to see what else was out there by using that most hallowed of search engines, the Good Lord Google itself. Surprisingly enough some people have tried something similar, the Nutch project attempts to implement an entire Google-like search engine, complete with it's own distributed filesystem and distributed processing model. Quite how successfully it implements it I'm not really prepared to say, but I've not managed to get the distributed file system to work in any sensible manner. St. Patrick's night was the final nudge which tipped me off the waggon; how selfish of an entire nation to coerce me into buying and consuming pint after pint of their finest stout ale. I suppose it was a good excuse to go and see my old friend and favourite web enterpreneur at his local Irish club. It was during this meeting that we came across the idea of creating little pixel banner adverts somewhat similar to the Million Dollar Website idea. An example of the idea can be seen at the top of the side bar to the right.

Just a quick post to share something I found today. It's a site full of free (downloadable) books, tutorials and lecture notes on various computer related topics. It's well worth a butchers... http://maththinking.com/boat/specialGameBooksIndex.html Enjoy!

This weekend saw the first "Febfest" beer festival in Bury, obviously I had to check it out ! I think everyone has an idea of who goes to beer festivals. We're talking beardy, hairy-bellied blokes who like nothing more than sitting on wooden benches eating tepid meat pies and getting gently poached drinking potent urine coloured liquids. The more cynical minded would also suggest that said liquids probably tasted like urine, and were most likely sourced at the previous weeks beardy gathering. But that's by-the-by, and considering I did drink a few half's I'd like to think that the stuff in the barrels had come from a far better place than the dodgy portaloo's outside the main tent. Yes, beardy blokes were there, it was to be expected, nay, required. They added a certain ambience to the place, helped complete the picture as it were. The whole setup of the festival seemed a little odd, you had to pay admission and buy "beer tokens" for a pound a go at the old railway ticket booth then you had to wander over to the tent to pick up your glass. It wasn't until I actually entered the tent that I discovered why the "beer token" method of payment was chosen instead of the cold hard cash approach. Those serving the beer were quite rightfully also enjoying the odd half, and while none of them were staggering around I got the impression that performing any correct change calculation above and beyond 1 token=1/2 pint could cause a little trouble, especially when the customers were also well on the way to the "hangover hotel". Once inside the tent you were greeted by what can only be described as an "Ale'ing wall", around 100 barrels of various alcoholic mixtures sat in rows three high across the longest side of the tent. Infront of the barrels were the defenders of the kegs, beardy blokes who have sworn to protect their precious from anyone who doesn't brandish the sacred token of pintage. Most of the beardies gathered in nodding herds, to each herd was appointed a female, who suprisingly didn't have a beard, well, not a publicly visible one at any rate. It was only after half an hour did I realise our little group was forming its own herds, quite spooky. After tasting my way through several ales, and a rather weak tasting (yet highly intoxicating) cider I came to the conclusion that my favourite ale was the Black Witch from Moorhouse's -- please follow the link for locations of stockists and pubs where you can find this fine beverage. For those living in the Bury area I'll save you a click-though, the nearest pub is the Dusty Miller, Crostons Road.

Whadaya mean there's no such word as unfortunatecy? Yes, I could have said misfortune but where's the fun in that? In the tradition of laughing at people, events, etc. I present to you the worldwide craze of Doing A Lynndie (the full list of rules regarding this can be found at http://badgas.co.uk/lynndie/ NSFW) Why not try doing one yourself?

These days it's hard to go anywhere or do anything without someone watching you and here on the internet is no different. When you visit a webpage it's possible for that page to 'see' where you came from. For example, before visiting this page you were looking at www.bootylover.gov.us/belinda13.jpg (shame on you!) EDIT: Our solicitors have asked us, for the sake of any visitor without a sense of humour, that the above web link is in fact totally made up and it was just a joke... haha :D Now then, on to the point of this post - it's now possible to hide where you came from by using this handy little website... anonym.to is a free and easy way to block the referrer when visiting websites. It works with every browser and all you do is add http://anonym.to/? in front of every http:// link. Obviously you'd only do this if the webpage you wanted to view wasn't from the website you were currently on. So for example if you didn't want us to see where you came from you would use the url http://anonym.to/?http://www.devinebydesign.co.uk/ ... simple eh?

It's been a while since I last posted on here - no broadband access whilst moving to a new home. Now I'm back online so let the good times roll (again)... I don't know about you but I loved the 80's, and as a teenager I got my hands on something that I played with and it made me feel happy - ahhh, many an hour spent playing, stick in hand, getting hot and sweaty (Daley Thompson made me waggle it like crazy!). By now you're probably thinking that I'm recalling some kind of sexual deviancy from my teen years**. I am, of course, referring to my trusty Commodore 64 and Quickshot II joystick :D which saved me from insanity during my GCSE's. Now anyone can relive those great times by making sure they have a java enabled web browser and pointing it at http://c64s.com/toplist/ although be warned that you'll need a fairly fast pc (1.7GHz or faster) to be able to play them properly. Go forth my friends and have fun... just watch out for Daley Thompson and his Decathlon. **That's a story for another time ;)

For those budding artiste's out there the wonderful people at art.com have created a fun little on-line art pad. It might look basic but you can knock out some pretty fine masterpieces, and what's more, they let you save them for public viewing. So, come on, d'you know what it is yet?

For the last few days newspapers and TV reports have been declaring this week to be the most depressing week of the year, with today in particular being the one most likely to discourage you from crawling out of your warm bed in the early hours of the morn. The notable absence of shiny happy people (holding hands or otherwise) is being blamed on those institutions that prey upon the naive and vulnerable; the shylocks, the vile lenders of money. While the major finance houses are not entirely innocent of the "crimes" they are accused of, it must be pointed out that they are only supplying a product to meet a demand. In short, if people didn't want the money the finance houses wouldn't offer it. The real perpertrator of the crime is the very same media which is pointing their accusing fingers towards the defenceless shylocks. It's the media which plant the seeds of desire in peoples minds; they show us sports stars and talentless "C" list celebs wearing the latest fashions, using the latest gadgets and holidaying on the sun-kissed beaches of a far-away private island. They should take more responsibility for the irresponsible manner in which they encourage the general public to buy more and more socially desirable "life enhancing" products. The general public can be forgiven for being confused by these money pimps; they tell us what to buy then chastise us for borrowing what we can't afford. Even the advert breaks between programmes offer to sell us solutions to our newly made money problems by throwing yet more money towards us -- for a price, of course. And to whom are these advertisements carefully targetted towards you ask? Not suprisingly its those same naive and vulnerable people that the media claim are being taken advantage of by the finance industry in the first place. To those poor souls who have been ass-fettled by the big corporations the only advice I can give is this; In the case of credit cards, phone your creditors, tell them you are having difficulties making payments and try to work out a hardship plan with them -- in most cases they will be able to offer some help, often by removing the interest charges if you keep up with an agreed minimum payment scheme. Make an appointment with your local Citizens Advice Bureau, the volunteers who work for the organisation are there to help. Be wary of the "all in one place" loans which are currently quite popular and generally targetted to those naive and vulnerable. Take a look at the small print at the bottom of the advertisements. That quick 20,000 loan may end up costing you over 52,000, thats over 200% of your original debt. If you're interested in working out how much of your actual debt you're paying off with each payment take a look at this generic loan calculator. Above all, don't do what the money pimps want you to do. Your survival on this planet is not dependant upon you owning the latest Nokia, iPod or Nike -- however, products from DEViNE Studios may just save your life (Damn, I'm whoring myself out again ! :-)

To coincide with the new look and feel of the site the official DEViNE Studios/DEViNE By Design merchandise store is now open for business. Any imagery listed in the Gallery section of this site will be available in the store on t-shirts, mousepads, mugs and even underwear (!) -- spare a thought for the site admins g'vnor and help keep the site running.

From out of the heavens a voice of great power and majesty spake unto me, "And let thee check'eth thine logs of web, for opportunities missed shall be glimpsed" I just assumed it was just another whiskey induced halucination; similar to those visitations of Jimi Hendrix and Jerry Lee that I've experienced in the past. But no, this was real. The logs revealed that some people out there in Internet land are still interested in obtaining the "Unseen Countdown" and the "Starwars" footage supplied by the kind folks at LimpFish.com. For those special people I've relocated the files in their original location, so your links will work again. For those who wish to see these video masterpieces for the first time take a look at the links below... Beware, content may not be suitable for the very young. Format: [AVI] [3GP] Click here for the unseen Star Wars footage [MPEG] [3GP] "Unseen Countdown" merchandise now available in the Gallery section.

Which also happens to be the name of the site. It's chock full of wierd and wonderful information like the real (not Hollywood) hazards of quicksand, why strapping a sofa cover onto your back isn't a proper parachute, and how to get stoned on nuts... and much much more! www.damninteresting.com

While considering a future in digital film and media production I've finally come to the conclusion that I don't really have a chance of ever becoming one of the greats. It's not because I feel that I lack the talent. Neither is it because I'm deficient in the mental bus fare needed to cope with the battlefield that even a simple production can throw upon you. No. After analysis of recent directors it has become apparent that the only way to get ahead in the business is to grow a beard. Think about it...

• Lord of the Rings, King Kong -- Peter Jackson, man with a beard.

• Star Wars -- George Lucas, man with a beard. Ok, Episode 1 sucked, and Episode 2 was an abortion of a film, but he made up for it with Episode 3.

• Jurrassic Park, Schindlers List -- Steven Speilberg, man with a beard.

• Alien, Abyss, Titanic -- James Cameron, man with a beard

That's not forgetting directors such as Francis Ford Copolla and the much underrated Kevin Smith (of "Mallrats" and "Jay and Silent Bob" fame). Some would say that the obvious solution given the evidence would be to throw away my razor and let nature take its furry course, and I would be inclined to agree with you. Unfortunately I have been cursed by the ginger-gene, this shame sadly prevents me from growing that which would provide me true greatness. PS. Pete, If you're looking for someone to get your coffee's while on set, just drop me an email.

No it's not the title of a porno movie. I was recently told about www.pandora.com (well, last night to be exact) and have been using it most of today. In a nutshell, it's a streaming music site but with a difference. You tell it what artists or songs you like and it'll play them and similar ones too. For each song that plays you can either tell Pandora that you like it (and want to hear more like it) or give it the thumbs down. After 8+ hours of listening it's not come up with any duff songs (Jason Donovan?) so it get's the thumbs up from me... Check it out and I'm sure you'll get some enjoyment from it. Back to the porno title... since that's what first caught your attention ;) it refers to the fact that I found a way to save the tracks. If you don't know how to do it, check back here at a later date and I'm sure all will be revealed.

Not being familiar with what the different bra sizes are, I found this of some help... and maybe you will too. NSFW

This section will be host to all sorts of stuff you may find interesting, entertaining, etc. So come on in, put your feet up and enjoy the atmos. As a guide, if there's anything rude in the article then there'll be a NSFW (Not Suitable For Work) tag on the intro paragraph.