Reasons not to play Eversion

There actually are no reasons not to play Eversion, unless you have an aversion (ho ho) to the following:

  • Games that are Nintendo Hard (I have no problem with this. I was drafted in to play Eversion by my girlfriend because she wanted to see what happened and apparently I’m ‘better at jumping’ than her. I have some kind of brain flaw which lets me continue plugging away at a pissing difficult level for much longer than normal mortals. Some say this is a mark of my subnormality, I say the biggest factor is my die-hard love for L/R scrolling platformers on old-school, often unresponsive systems. I will say this: it’s a good job there are infinite lives, because I waxed 20 or 30 on some parts of this game without blinking.)
  • Being scared out of your skull (I pretty much have no problem with this. I mean, I have a problem with it, but no more than I have a problem with all the ridiculous torture porn movies I watch, or the horror novels I read, wide-eyed as a bushbaby, when I was on the cusp of getting into adult books and managed to get hold of three-inch thick Stephen Kings from the adult library. Being scared is good for you.)
  • I’m going to mention how scary it is again, because it’s effing scary, alright

So, go here, download, play. Do not be lulled by the cuddly screenshots. There’s a wealth of heart-pumping, quick-jumping, brain-goosing action behind the curtain. Oh, and try to get ALL of the gems. Enjoy!


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Coolness for 16 June, 2010

  • Forced to wear busted old Vans to MC Frontalot gig tonight as have inability to decide on a pair of new trainers
  • Ate hot wrap from Pret at outside table in the manner of someone who did not understand food
  • Sneezed 27 times between Pret and my desk

It’s not looking good today, folks.

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One of my colleagues is getting married and she’s not having a cake.

She’s making jelly.

(This is only one of the reasons why she is Truly Awesome In My Eyes.)

This, coupled with the discovery of something from Pret called ‘Buried Treasure’ which was a layered mango and pomegranate jelly with pomegranate PIECES in it, has sent me off on a massive jelly kick. I want to make a jelly like this:

RED: raspberry and pomegranate layer

PINK: raspberry and pear cider layer (‘the bubblicious layer’)

ORANGE: mango layer

GREEN: lime and de coconut layer (see below)

So far my dreams have extended only as far as placing one layer of raspberry, with pomegranate seeds, in a dish that is now too small to contain my dreams.

One day.

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Things I could have bought in St Ives but didn’t


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The Coolness Index

(I was going to call this ‘The Grooviness Index,’ but nobody wants to be groovy anymore, do they?)

Whenever I’m feeling a bit down, I evaluate myself on my Coolness Index to bring my self esteem up.

I try and honestly evaluate myself against previous days in my life and decide how cool I am at this moment. Note: these questions change every time. It’s a good way of making sure I don’t get full of myself by repeatedly listing something I did three years ago that was ace, and also a way to make certain that I include recent pratfalls. There are rules, oh yes.

  • Have you used the word ‘groovy’ today? That’s bad. Next time, say ‘sexy’
  • What does your hair look like? (Today it looks like a big red mushroom, which I’m perversely rather pleased with. Ten points)
  • How many times have you checked BBC news today? (More than 10 is too many. There is such a thing as being a news ass. There’s also such a thing as not doing enough work. And work is cool! You get money for doing work, so you can buy things. Things are definitely cool; if not, then why would you have so many of them?)
  • How many different shops is your current outfit from, and who bought it? (One shop is bad. Your Mum is bad. Anything else is by default very cool, as it implies you have seen the world, or at least two places in it)
  • Have you blogged today? (Blogs are pretty awesome)
  • What are you reading? Is it any good? Is it rubbish? If it’s a magazine, there’s a 50/50 chance it’s rubbish. Put it down
  • Have you stuck your tongue out at a baby/child today? (Stop doing that, people think it’s weird in this climate of fear)
  • What was the last film you saw? (At the moment, the answer is A Nightmare on Elm Street, a hilarious and shitty remake of a stone cold classic rubbish/nonsense horror film. This just scrapes muster. Frankly, seeing it at all was only to wipe Street Dance 3D off the slate)
  • What was the last cool thing you did? (Today it was bringing a whole punnet of grapes to work with me. Later I’m going to share them. Sharing is COOL. I suppose the last very cool thing I did was completing Professor Layton and the Curious Village, because some of that shit is fiendish. Oh and I got my ears pierced. Yeah, that’s right, I’m 26. Daddy Cool)
  • When was the last time you went out dancing? (Umm. Next!)
  • When was the last time you did an arty thing? (I’m going to make a collage! I’ve been cutting things out of the newspaper. AWESOME)

At the end of an internal dialogue like that is where I pretty much want to eat crisps until I explode and hopefully leave behind something more valuable, like my organs. Today it’s not so bad. Yay!


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I’ve fallen in love with Gilbert and George

I never thought it could happen, but I’m in love with a pair of living sculptures. Mostly because of the videos here, which offer an insight into their working practices.

I present some highlights:

George: We are not laying down the rule, we are exploring it together with the viewer.

Gilbert: We are not sending them to Heaven, we are not sending them to hell.

George: We’re sending them to the bar instead.

George: You see this panel we would have to resist the white piece and the flesh piece while we do the red and then we will protect the red with this liquid mask so that we can do the flesh colour.  It’s a sort of liquid gum which can then be removed. We always refer to it as a liquid condom.

On computers:

Gilbert: It’s very good, it’s much better, we can sit down, we don’t have to go up ladders anymore. It’s magic, we really believe it’s the magic box.

They also collaborated with my favourite purveyors of plastic niknaks, Tatty Devine, along the theme of my favourite beverage, gin. Talk about utterly bloody perfect. And so dinky!

Adorable naked batshit old duffers, I salute you!

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What is blog?

I’ve suddenly realised that this whole blog endeavour is basically a failure. When I started out, I was following my strictest blogging guidelines evar:

  • HAVE AN OPINION(people who blog have opinions! Eventually other people think their opinions are important and send them material things to review! That is the dream)
  • Post TWICE A DAY motherfucker
  • If you don’t post, DON’T EXPLAIN and DON’T APOLOGISE (this always makes me think of the back of the Daily Mail magazine, which I used to read when I was little and my parents were less informed, where Mrs Mills would answer your questions and there was a cartoon picture of her looking all grown-up and clever and sophisticated and under the picture it said ‘no correspondence will be entered into’, because she was just that kind of busy woman who was totally a real person with a life)

I still hate when blogs get going all quick and then turn to nothing but the occasional apology for not posting. I always feel that the effort you go to in order to post an apology should be better used to post a real, delicious post with nyammy interesting content, nyam nyam nyam, even if it is just something simple and quick, like a link to something awesome.

(Other redundant and irritating things on the internet: overly personal conversations over Twitter, cries for help in Facebook statuses, posting on a forum to announce you’re leaving said forum. This was a huge bracket that gave details and examples but I slayed it to death, mostly because I realise that I am Captain Arsehole about some things, and these are definitely some of them, and nobody wants to hear about it, so shut up, me.)

I should mention that I decided to set this thing up when I was going through a period of deeply oppressive misery, which was leading to a build-up of rage. Rage gave me the impetus to post all the freaking time for a WHOLE week. This was a time when I didn’t really have the free time to be doing it, but my RAGE propelled me forward like a VOLCANO FLAME GOD.

So now it’s better, I have a new job and am generally going through a period of relative calm, being able to afford things like a small holiday to Cornwall without weeping, that sort of thing, and the RAGE is gone, and instead there is only a weak creative urge to make something. I’m not very good at having opinions because I hate impassioned debate, i.e., defending myself, and I usually change my mind halfway through or try to change the subject, mostly by bringing the conversation round to food. I like posting nonsense, most of my life is made of of nonsense. And I have a bit more time now, but I’m still working, and I have to blog every day for work, so my word/brain-quota gets used up fairly quickly.

So I have this blog, which has a totally effing sweet name, so I can’t just abandon it like I did the ladybird which landed on my boob earlier. (For abandon, read ‘try to put five miles between me and it in the quickest way possible, which is fairly violent when in an office chair with wheels’.)

What would you like to see? Boneheaded stories of me making an ass of myself? Those happen a lot!


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