VSX, A shadowy flight into the dangerous world of a man who does not exist: Starbuck Powersurge - a young loner on a crusade to champion the cause of Viper Squad Ten, a long-disbanded group of stranded timetravelling troubadours, formed to help finance repairs to their time-machine. Now very much stuck in C21...
All text is copyright the Viper Squad Ten blog team 2003-2006 unless otherwise quoted or credited. If we've not credited you properly, please let me know. Throw us a link if you're desperate enough to use this guff...
The last words that my Grandma said to me were during a visit to her care home, when I kissed her on the cheek during a moment of relative lucidity...
"Oh, that was a nice one", she said, with a smile in her voice.
She may have recognised me, she probably couldn't make the connection, but details aren't really the important thing with dementia - it isn't so much who you are, its how you are.
I wish I'd seen her more during her final months. But seeing my dad beaming with love and joy during that rare afternoon of wakefulness was a wonderful, lucky thing.
Some weeks later I visited Grandma again, knowing that this would probably be the last time that I would see her. Just over a week ago.
My last words to my Grandma, as she lay there apparently unaware, were simple.
It's difficult knowing what to say when the life of a loved one is slipping away, whether you think they can hear you or not. The only time I wish I believed in heaven is when I'm struggling for words, to say that I'll see them there. But sleep - peace, rest, respite - is the only thing that seems appropriate.
[Invite for my co-editor to blog]
My co-editor Stu's VSX word quotient has been very low recently, but after receiving a few text messages from Mr S suddenly all ist now klar. Examples? OK:
Am I over reacting by refusing to re-sign up to whatever evil google considers is necessary to be able to access my/our blogs?"
They are fucking horrible little geeks who have turned into power hungry monsters of death
Fair enough. I think I might have to start leaving blank "invites to blog" posts for my esteemed colleague to put his thoughts in the Comments box. A bit like a blackboard/whiteboard, but green. And not as sophisticated.
This was the first series of Big Brother where I've not religiously watched pretty much every show (I even used to record them when on holiday, "just in case" another Nasty Nick Bateman pencil moment takes place.
But this time I was determined not to watch it.
It's felt fairly liberating - my time was to be my own for the entire Summer run - and I've managed to watch all sorts of more constructive televisualisations in the time otherwise wasted. The feeling that I was missing out on something was still tangible, however. I used to look forward to my daily fix.
And tonight I've found myself watching it again, and I can feel myself being drawn in. Bugger.
The last time I caught any of it was for the much-discussed Wigger Emily episode. Back then there was just one bloke called Zippy (or something) in it, surrounded by all manner of female allsorts. Now I've just turned it on on Day 21 (can it only be Day 21?), and there's something like 100 people of all sexes in the BB house, plus Mick Hucknall's in it, or at least I think it was Mick Hucknall, in a hat.
Reason for my recent disapp-E-rance
Look, I've just had a lot on lately.
(I can't believe I've found that ancient webcam photo on my hard drive, originally taken as a joke, I must add, to freak out friends. And I can't believe I've now gorn and posted it on the interweb. I've been away too long. Ban this sick filth!)