Sorry, I suck. Also: sorry, cow.

No interesting blogs recently. Instead, why don't you apologize to a cow?
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On going home

Maybe it's the warm weather, or a recent lull in my motivation to work on uber-cool new web projects (having worked on rather a lot of them recently), but in the last few days I've been considering the pros, cons and practicalities of going home to Trinidad. Why do I want to leave London? Well, I don't really. Or at least, nothing is pushing me to leave. I like my job, my flat, my friends, the city, everything about it really. Especially at the moment -- London is wonderful in the summer, when the long evenings mean you have hours of daylight after you leave work to do whatever you fancy. I think it is precisely because I have nothing obviously wrong at the moment, no major short-term hurdle to accomplish, that I'm finding the time to consider longer-term objectives. It's a very human thing, when presented with an easy situation, to seek a new challenge. It's a luxury I don't often have, so indulge me, okay? Why do I want to go to Trinidad? Because it's home, in a powerful and unequivocal way...

Snakes on an Update

Samuel L. Jackson predicts that Snakes on a Plane will win Best Movie at next year's MTV Movie Awards. And who are we to argue? The man is Samuel L. Jackson. We are mere mortals.


A powercut. Now there's something you don't expect on a sunny day in central London. Sans electricité, 560 formerly productive members of the IT and media industries suddenly find themselves little more than oxygen consumers, as do all the people in all the offices around us. Browsing: via a nearby unsecured wireless network Twiddling: my thumbs Wondering: if I should go home yet.


For 82 minutes, we were really giving you bastards a run for your money.
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I have just eaten a burger for dinner. The footie is on TV.[1] I am wearing a football t-shirt[2]. I'm drinking a pint[3]. This is it, folks. This is as heterosexual as I'm ever likely to get. [1] England v. Sweden because the Trinidad match isn't on. Fascist programmers! It's on, but I'm actually watching an episode of Family Guy. [2] Trinidad's, obviously. [3] Of milk.

Sorry, did I forget to mention...?

I am currently in Kiev with Mikey, and will be until Sunday. Kiev in summer is outstanding, and my gracious hosts are certainly laying on the hospitality. I am taking record numbers of photos of 1950s soviet architecture with which to bore you when I get back. Be warned -- this is going to be even worse than New York, though I may end up being a little more selective. I have not, prior to this, been much of a world traveller. My gap-year plan to earn money in London then tour India got as far as the earning money in London part. My world travelling consisted mainly of leaving Trinidad and moving to London in the first place. Since then I've been to New York, and very briefly to Paris. But now I have spoken English only to about 3 people in 3 days and eaten vast quantities of thoroughly novel but very tasty food (Ukrainians seem to share my philosophy that it's not really food unless there's a lot of meat in it somewhere). I'm enjoying myself, but I certainly left my comfort zone somewhere far, far...
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Ukraine, part 2

Not too much new to report since the last update. We've been on a river tour -- jet skis are much more popular on the Dneper than the Thames -- and seen rather a lot of churches and cathedrals, all of which were pretty cool. Last night we went for a swim at midnight in the pool attached to my host's apartment building, but I'm saving up the details for yet more blackmail opportunities. Suffice to say: button-operated waterfalls are exactly as fun as they sound. This afternoon we are flying to Kharkov, Ukraine's second city and Mikey's former home town, to meet various (allegedly English-speaking) people and see a bit more of Ukraine beyond the capitalist playground that is Kiev. We will be driving back, to see a bit more of the countryside as well.
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They've got GPRS in Kharikov! This message coming to you from inside the offices of the Bank of...

They've got GPRS in Kharikov! This message coming to you from inside the offices of the Bank of Mikey's Dad...
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