Sunday, 29 April 2012

Hostage at 15,000ft (Extract)

Nobody was expecting the plane to make such a big bang... Or such a high wall of flames, but it did. The sound of first class being burnt into the back of their seats is all that was incredibly audible at this exact point in time. The plane looks like a downed bird, wings broken and skin torn from its body in many different directions. The seats are covered in blood, odd bits of flesh, here and there and the still seated corpses of people who were lucky enough to be killed by shock or bits of debris, slicing and crushing, from the falling man-made disaster. It may be wise to omit how exactly the plane was downed, for now anyway, you know how these sorts of things work? You have to wait for the plot to expand; all good things come to the patient few.
                I lumber into this new world and it looks like hell has burned over; behind the plane a path of crumpled concrete, bruised to the point of annihilation, a flame trail that lead to ground zero. I remove my mask, throw it to the ground and move forward, away from flames. My face was sweating and beads of sweat dripped from my brow onto destroyed concrete. The crash has shaken the survivors, but, it feels like you’re walking through the spirit world... People stumbling around, their faces covered in gore, stepping around as if some important part of the brain was removed from their skulls. The streets had been set ablaze and the echoes of sirens were not far, but not close enough to be useful. Buildings began to crumble; the assault led by the wings on the architecture of the buildings was fierce and had no mercy on the immobile giants. It’s clear that someone had called the emergency services upon the initial impact, but the content of this call may have been... questionable and incoherent. It could be speculated that the services were only aware of what was happening due to word of mouth, not because of a panic induced phone call that described a plane crashing into the busy streets of London.
                I waver out of an emergency exit on the side of the plane; it had been deployed at some point during the drop. Clutching at my sides, I limp to look for safety and to look for what I was missing.
Dalton’s missing.
Dalton had planned the hijack for around 01:00am, but due to unforeseen circumstances had to start things a bit early; isn’t that always the way? Problems occur and you have to rush ahead with something you’re not completely comfortable with; it chills your fingertips and electrifies your spinal Colum.
The carbon fibre semi-automatic rifles that had been planted on the aeroplane earlier that day by our ‘guys on the inside’ were cracked out early, fully loaded and ready for the plan to be laid down in the most professional manner that we had planned.
We never intended things to get this out of hand, but there’s always some guy who wants to be a hero, some asshole who wants to be John-fucking- Maclane.
I won’t go into graphic details of how the pilots were shot to the point of no repair, but it happened, you know? Blood got everywhere, no-one could see out of the cockpit.
Both Dalton and I knew how to fly, but kept getting distracted by passengers who thought they could be heroes. I think at that point, everyone wanted to be a super-hero, just to fly away from this mess... Maybe saving a few loved ones in the process of liberating themselves from this mess.
                God only knows where Dalton is... Is it possible for him to be here or there? I mean, he could have been sliced in half by some vicious debris, soaring through the plane. Maybe he fell out of the plane prematurely and fell to be made into pulp by the ground below? Maybe the furious flames had ticked him and he was running around trying to put the fire out.
There was a time when the fire inside him was the brightest burning light, when we first started planning this caper; Dalton had a clear set of rules, principles and goals for us all to follow to make sure things are done the right way! This is not the right way.
                At a snail’s pace I waver out of the way of anything immediately dangerous and rest my back against a car that remained untouched in the heat of everything; the plane had missed it, the wings had already been destroyed by the buildings and the fire was far enough out of the way for it to be unaffected by all the chaos around to it. I clung to it, in hopes everything would stop being so manic, just for one moment, just let me catch my breath for a second.
It just seems to be one of those moments in life where gravity tightens around you and everything seems to be moving in slow-motion with a black and white filter lazily slapped over the top, just to make everything seem that little bit more epic and moving.
                My vision sways from side to side, looking for the only connection to all of this I had. He was probably dead, but I have to make sure, if the cops got him, he could sell us all out.
And if he sold us out, that could be a major problem for me; jail-time. I wouldn’t go down well in a prison; they’d pass me around like a peace-pipe, which is not my idea of fun.
It’s time to decide what to do; action needs to be taken and it won’t be taken if I just stay here, waiting for the emergency services to appear. They’d just have me wasting time, making sure I’m alright and then I’d have to write a statement about what happened; bullshit.
Just a short extract of something bigger I've been working on. Not so much for class, but, that is where the idea came from originally.
Hope you kids enjoy.

Thursday, 26 April 2012

Top 5 reasons you should stop procrastinating

Despite the content of this list, I realise the irony of procrastinating by doing this and not actual work... But fuck it, right? Let's have some fun!

5.
Get more done - You'll get more done if you stop procrastinating, which in turn makes everyone feel better! Not just you, but your significant other, your parent or your house-mates that have begun to worry if you'll ever actually do anything besides watch porn loudly at 3am.

4.
Free time - If you stop thinking that procrastinating is your use of free-time, then you may actually be able to get some free time! Countless times my work schedule has been destroyed because of this bad boy. Just chilling on the interwebs? Checking out some funny pictures/videos? NOT COOL. That funny picture/video is not what it seems! It's the devil trying to tempt you away from the boring flock of people that do their work on time!

3.
Dat success - Dat awkward moment when you actually finish work on time and have nothing to worry about? Sure, you could fill yourself up on this lovely feeling, or you could clean out your cupboard in search for that Christmas money you think is hidden in there.

2.
Laughing at others - That's right! With the low low price of getting things done on time, you can mock others that haven't. Yes! And for a short period, if you finish your work now and order the hilarity then you'll get a free sense of superiority.

1.

I didn't get this far, so here's a funny video.


Tuesday, 24 April 2012

Why I hate job hunting, the covering letter.

Why I hate job hunting, the covering letter.

                To whom it may concern,
Recently I have realised how much of an unhealthy feeling I feel towards you. Job hunting is the biggest pain in the ass activity that has ever been engaged in since the birth of the unemployed.
And frankly, at this point my mind just recoils in disgust with the amount of work people have to do to get to an interview only to be told that there is some other wanker sat out in the same hall as you were sat in, with more experience in the role!
Yes, I do understand that these people will get the job done faster, no that’s not what bothers me, what bothers me is that you don’t give people like me a chance!
We require the experience that you don’t give out, that we then don’t get to take away into our C.V.s.
This being said, I am far from perfect... Sure, I have experience in writing online for magazines, working in retail, working in bars and even a bit of admin work. Even when it comes to the interview I do not bomb it, but you never employ me.
Truth be told, I am a bit sadder than I am mad and for that, I must be a tad bit too much.
This role would suit me because... Because... I am a fucking people person. Devoting all my time to work? Sure, why not!? Flexible so it is possible to clean up other people’s shit? Of course, boss! Well presented? Yes, sir. Experience? ...Ummm, yeah, sure, why not?
You should hire me for this role, because I will starve and not be able to afford rent.

Attached is a copy of my dignity with all my references from other people that took my dignity, my qualifications that I thought might give me some dignity, and of course my experiences...

I look forward to hearing back from you. (Even though I never do. I feel like a child being deprived of a thank you from Santa at Christmas, because I did not get a thank you for the whiskey and cake I left out.)

Yours faithfully,
Kyle.

P.S. I did not flush in your bathroom.
P.P.S. Rude words are now written on your chairs in the waiting room.
P.P.P.S Please hire me.

Sorry guys and dolls

I'd just like to start this post by apologising for my lack of activity recently.
Been having lots of money troubles so I've been hard at the old job hunt, looking for something to bring in the potatoes.

What sorts of things do you guys do to job hunt? Is it as hard as everyone else says it is?
Let me know what you all think.

Wednesday, 18 April 2012

Top 5 wallpapers that keep me inspired/working!

You are not your fucking wallpaper, but, it feels good to have something that isn't the default bollocks!
Here is a list of wallpapers that keep me entertained/inspired/working.
I have a massive folder of wallpapers that would rival a anime fanatics anime folder.
So, here we go... 3... 2... 1...GO!

5.

4.

3.

2.

1.
Hope you love some of these wallpapers as much as I do. If you require anymore wallpaper-ie goodness, let me know and I'll be sure to link some of ya'all up with some bitchin' walls.


Tuesday, 17 April 2012

Nasty Cans

“No more... She won’t grace you again.”

Retain what eloquence to the stage of a rehearsed smile,
With a look like the clown from the Simpsons; that limp cigarette ridden smile,
You’re probably just as happy as him too, while you feed her to the lions,
The trail of empty caffeinated cans lead us to believe you’d arrived with the wrong solution.

Think you can hold your own as we hock the remains of her to our friends,
Or will you lose your shape and try to piss over our poorly attended parade?
Although she is still around, we still miss that smell increasingly bitter smell of vanilla,
But we’ll never miss the price you charged us to spend time with her on the playground.
I think it’s time to admit that you were wrong and send her home with us.

She hid away in my garage,
Accompanied by all the beer and my entourage,
Of the mess she’d and profit she’d made,
They came looking for you while I was at school,
In the masses they came and they paid,
For her.

Years went by and the playground swallowed her up,
She became the ghost that only haunted me,
Haunted chalky break-time retreats,
You’ll never feel my lips again.

Maybe I’ll spend some time with one of her hotter sisters?
I miss you vanilla coke.

My whack at some poetry from this years poetry module!
I can be quite fun if you read it in the right light.
Til next time x

Monday, 16 April 2012

Top 5 reasons writers shouldn't drink!

Alright readers? We doing okay? Good.
Today, I come bearing a list that underlines the main reasons that writers (Or just people in general), shouldn't drink. That being said, I have no intention of stopping any time soon.
I'm in very familiar territory with a domestically abusive relationship...

5.
The hangovers - Simple enough really, but something that just keeps coming back to bite me in the arse.

4.
The money - As a lightweight, I find it very easy to get fucked and have a good time, so I don't understand WHY I spend so much damn money...
Pro-tip kids, take out as little money as possible and leave your wallet at home!

3.
Talking about your latest book - This is probably just me, but when I tell people what I do, I'm often giggled at, even if people do show interest. The problem in this conversation is that when I'm drunk, I'll talk complete and utter bullshit. I tell people about my book and probably bore them half to death... And odds are, I'll get this great idea for another installment of my literature but forget by the time I've sobered up.


2.
That awkward moment you try and convince people you're not a leech sucking at the crotch of society - Many a horrible moments have stemmed from people having the preconception that writers are: lazy, slobbish and full of themselves.
While this is mostly true, I don't want it shoved in my face everytime! Assholes.

1.
The hangover part II - Mother of god, the hangovers!



Friday, 13 April 2012

Friday the 13th

Not got much time to post today, so I thought I'd drop off a few gifts for you kids.












A few funny pictures to brighten your Fridays!
Again, sorry for the short post, but I'm sure you guys will love a  few laughs.

Thursday, 12 April 2012

'Today'

Here you go kids!
A short little piece that I wrote in class again.

                Today, my granddaughter brought me flowers.
I smile and she talks.
“Remember the music box?”
 How could I ever forget.
“What about that time you bored me half to death with fishing?” We both laugh.
Her voice carries across the room in the gentlest manner possible as she reassures me, “everything will be alright.”
But then, her smile fades and she grips my hand tighter; now it’s time for me to tell her, “Everything will be alright.”
My voice does not carry so well, but she hears it. The heart monitor beeps and boops in a timely fashion; setting a rhythm to the room.
Her head lurches forward a little bit.
With what strength I have backing me, I brush her hair to one side with my free hand. The long trails of yellow hair sit comfortably behind her ear, unmasking her watery eyes.
I smile and stroke the side of her cheek.
Her grip on my hand softens until she lets go and smiles back at me.
The smile fills my heart with a little vitality and joy; enough to tell her again;
“I love you.”
A smile, a genuine smile; it’s been awhile since I’ve seen one of those dressed across her face. I push it a little further and make a joke... She laughs with me; the tears don’t seem so apparent and distressing.
Soon, a man walks in and sits on the edge of my bed, dressed in a decent suit and even more decent shoes. His smile is soft, gentle and full of something I once had; a man I have not seen in many years.
The gentleman puts an arm around the shoulder of the girl; she doesn’t register it, not from him. I tell her that it’s time to go and she drops her head.
Grace kisses my cheek and for a moment I feel alive again, but not more than a moment.
“I love you.” Grace stands up and walks out, waving with one hand and wiping away her tears with the other.
 The smell of perfume drifts through the air of the room, covering the smell of morphine and clean away; things are acceptable now. She and the smell linger in the doorway for a few more seconds, before they exit.
Sat on the edge of my bed, the man moves down towards my side and holds my hand. The world compresses around him, not much else is visible.
My youth stares me in the eyes and looks upon me with happiness and bliss. I say to him;
“We did well.”
He nods and pulls a cigarette from his pocket. I wink and so does he.
Somewhere in the background I can hear a string section performing out. He lights the cigarette with a certain grace only the young at heart possess and with one careful movement, he pops it in his mouth; inhale and exhale.
He hands me one.
With my left over strength, I place it in my mouth... He ignites it.
My lungs draw in the last bit of smoke and it floats over me
“I think this is it for us old boy.”
His hand sits on my shoulder and I exhale.
The strings stop playing.
“It’s been a pleasure.”
Have fun with this wee piece of writting.

Tuesday, 10 April 2012

Tuesday shares with Lavalamper!

Oh hi guys...

I've decided that every Tuesday from this point on, I'm going to review and share an album that I've been enjoying recently.
Whether this is an old album, something new, or an album from way back, I'm still going to review and share it, because I can and because life needs more music in it!

This week I shall be reviewing and sharing 'Ghinzu' and their album 'Blow'.

Artist - Ghinzu
Album - Blow
Genre - Alt Rock
Date - 2004
Sample - Cockpit Inferno

Ghinzu formed in 1999 in snowy Belgium, I'm sure it's not that snowy and that's beside the point, but that's how I've always imagined Belgium. They're a five piece band with an interesting sound that can probably be heard in a lot of other places, in terms of bands... Muse spring to mind straight away, without the very in your face, almost operatic vocals.
With a sound based, but not totally grounded in a typical rock sound, they've prodcued the album 'Blow'.
'Blow' combines an intresting assortment of sounds from the get-go, with the opening track, also being the title track. The opener is a well paced and gloriously put together eight minute masterpiece. The song also featured on the soundtrack to the movie 'Ex Drummer', which is also pretty sweet, go check it out.
The sound of Ghinzu is a morphing monster that potters around in piano, strings and all out rock and riffage. Tracks like 'Cockpit Inferno', a fast an punchy rock song with sprinkles of electronic elements and finally some classical style piano.
Although the vocals on this album are not exactly powerful, they deliver some riveting lyrics that give you a few real gems of lyrical content. Then again, there are less subtle tracks that just have some hilariously out there lyrics 'Til you faint' comes to mind straight away; with it's repeated chorus and basic song structure, you just can't help but feel as if it's just a raunchier, louder, pop-song.
'Til you faint', leads onto a track that you'd think would go with the theme with the title 'Sweet love', but instead, it takes you into a sweet piano ballad-style-thing, that illuminates the mood of this album from, sketchy, to somewhat heart-felt.
'Sweet love' is real shinner on this album, with great vocals and lots of different elements working together with the twinkly piano.
The song-writing 'Blow' is something that really gleams in this world of typical, verse, chorus, verse, chorus and outro, songs. It gives me faith a plenty in the world of music that makes me believe; there is still great music out there! And originality is not dead.
Songs like 'Mine', 'High Voltage Queen (The Reign Of)' and 'Seaside friends', just emit this sense of great showmanship and a band that really adore making great music for the fans.
Mentioning 'Seaside Friends', this song just sounds like a real festival song... Just sayin'. 

To tie things up though, this album is a real gem that everyone should look into listening to at least once.
If not for the great song construction, do it for the fact that Belgium is awesome! And snowy and has lots of chocolates and stuff!

Hope you have fun with this album, should you look into getting it.
Until next time, always remember...
One life, then you're a mannequin.

Ciao.

Hitman Absolution - Leaked footage



A look at two full plays of the upcoming hitman game!
Quality is not the best in the world, but it gives you a better insight to two of the main styles you can play. The voice acting looks awesome with lots of voyeuristic fun to be had listening to the conversations and general banter between the thugs.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Enjoy the gameplay! It looks pretty decent to say the least, but I'm looking forward to a much better quality video.
What do you guys think?

Sunday, 8 April 2012

Top places I've died in Dark Souls (So far)


In celebration of the announcement of Dark Souls on the PC, I thought I would regain you all with the tales of me dying multiple times in this pain in the arse of a game!
For everyone who doesn't know and has clearly been living on Neptune or something; Dark Souls is the second game of the 'Souls' games; I'm not really sure what else to call them haha.
The game itself is also stupid hard at some points, even with all the little hands you can get at the beginning.

1.
Dark Root Basin - A more green area in contrast to Dark Souls' variety of levels and maps and arenas and all sorts! The reason I died here in particular, relates to passing the first fog-gate, where you meet camouflaged snakes, sleeping giants and more vicious tree people! Having the idea in my head that I needed to go through here, I kept struggling and struggling, but to no avail. Later, I discovered I didn't need to go this way... And almost immediately destroyed the disc.

2.
The Depths - A token sewer level that contains a wide array of smelly enemies. Some of which are: Slimes that can suck half your health if you’re not quick enough, poisonous rats and some weird creature that totally fucks me up later! While having poorly levelled my character, I found this area to be an uphill struggle, especially when it came to facing the giant rat in a straight up fight... And totally not hitting him and then hiding in the tunnel.

3.
Blight-town - Dark, dingy, full of more poison, bugs and even an invader; this map was the furthest thing from what I thought it would be. While I didn't die here THAT much until I revisited, to pick up the totally sweet katana that is hidden here. I was trying to find another way out by going back through the depths, only to be cursed by some dick of a monster and return to Blight-Town, with half health. Let the rage begin.

4.
Sen's Fortress - My deaths here were mostly attributed to falling like an idiot after being hit by the swinging blades... The last set of blades are an extra pain in the ass, as you're on a thin beam and you're being shot at by a magician with a freakin' snake head! Get fucked!

5.
Anor Londo - And we return to where I am stuck currently! No, I have not completed the game yet, but this is another place that just keeps grinding my gears... All I need to say is... Archers with big ass arrows, running in their general direction, thin rooftops. Rage ensues.

With no idea how close I am to the end of this game, I think my time of borrowing it, may have to be expanded as the challenge of his game just gets stuck under your skin and you want to power through the agitation to beat it, just so you can stand victorious and brag about it at the pub to all your friends who have no idea what you're talking about!

To read the article about the PC release, click the link here and check it out.

That's all for now children!
Remember, the Drake Sword will only get you so far!
Ciao.

"Last Stop"

Last Stop

I’ve been talking to him for days and days online; I’m so excited to finally meet him. After all, he’ll be my first.
It all started in an online chat-room; well, if you want to be really technical, it all started when a friend told me about him... He’s a friend of a friend that a friend told me about. My buddy told me about all of his accomplishments and experiences and truth be told I simply coiuldn’t wait to meet him.
I introduced myself to him online and told him all about myself; short brown hair, blue peepers and a body as thin as a pin. He told me all about how lonely he was and I almost mirrored exactly how he felt. The guy has a wife, but she doesn’t understand him like I do, I’m not sure she really could.
His name is Benjamin Flint, such an oldies name; it really makes me think of one of those old cop shows... He’d be the bad cop with one of those biker moustaches. Benjamin tells me that he works with kids and that they love him to bits. I really like that; I love a man who gets along with kids. We talk and talk and we grow to desire each other more and more until our fingers can no longer express the desire.
Eagerly, many preparations had gone into meeting my new found friend, it was mostly things like: make sure he is who he says he is, make sure the cat is fed, make sure I look good for him, carry protection, have a shower, smell desirable. I just wanted to make myself into this image for him, no matter how painted on it was.
It’s probably about ten-thirty PM when I arrive, my jacket fastened tightly around my slender body; the cold is quite uncontrollable and vicious, like a cornered fox. My headphones gently play a classical piece of music into my ears; piano keys being brushed up against as the snow pitches on the floor, heavily contrasting the tone of the cold world around me.
For a second I stop and wonder if this is the right thing to do, if this is really going to be my first. I clutch my bag and then rub my hands together in contemplation. The classical piece is just reaching its climax and a choice needs to be made.
His voice still rings clear in the back of my head;
“Room thirty-seven, I’ll be waiting.”
The big motel sign is easily the most visible thing in the snow, it reads;
“The Last Stop.”
My watch ticks a time of thirty-one minutes past the tenth hour; ten minutes late. The rush makes me make my decision; it’s going to happen.
                Door thirty-seven stands in front of me; daunting and chilling, almost at the point of mocking me for even considering not doing this.
I knock on the door and the world compresses tight around it for the few seconds it takes to hear signs of life.
Eager footsteps stutter towards the door and the door coasts open, sure enough, there stands Benjamin.
“I’m glad you could make it, I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up, Mike.”
“Wouldn’t miss this chance, Benny.” We hug and take a moment to take in the fact that this is actually happening.
“Do you want a glass of wine?”
“No thanks, I don’t drink. Do you mind if I use the bathroom real quick?”
“Sure, not a problem, go right ahead.” I nod in acceptance.
My coat brushes past him, as if we’re not even there yet, just ghosting around the small motel room.
The door closes behind me, the ghost quickly making sure to keep up.
“What a fucking coward,” the door howls at me.
I run a tap and sit down on the toilet, the cold surface giving my ass a few Goosebumps that quickly spread. My hands sweep over my face, cupping it and caring for it for the few faint seconds that I sit.
Standing up, eyes scan the bathroom and notice that mug peaking at me... He grins and laughs, until I want to reach out and strangle his throat; tear his windpipe from his neck and make him truly sorry for laughing at me.
But it doesn’t come; calmness washes over my face in unison with a chill splash of water that brings back into focus.
My bag becomes comparable to a safe point; inside is everything I’ll need to ensure it’s all going to run smoothly, there’s also a little something, just to make sure all is safe.
A knock at the door.
“Hey, you ok in there?”
“Fine thanks, Benjamin, just fine.”
When I look at the mirror again, the man has stopped smiling; he now looks at who I am and pulls a dead-pan face.
He straightens his shirt and breathes out; the mirror steaming up slightly. I wait for it to fade and take one final look at him and turn to the door.
“Take your time, it’ll be ok...”
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
What comes next? I take my protection from my bag and hold it close to my heart; it stays positioned behind my back, so I can surprise Benny.
The door opens and Benjamin stares me up and down, he smirks...
“You look even better than your pictures.” He smiles... That smile.
“How did it feel to kill those kids?”
“What?”
The gun shares two fatal secrets between me and Benjamin.
Almost immediately, his hands embrace his bare chest; you could just tell that he was collapsing more and more under his own gravity, like some sort of black hole.
Breathing thick the gun rises an additional time and fire once more.
Eyes beaming white like spotlights. Benny’s breathe grows thinner, thinner and thinner, he collapses.
“You’re going to disappear here, Benjamin.”
He lacks the simple energy to fight back with the only thing he has left; words.
Claret begins to leak onto the floor; eyes trying to maintain contact with the man that just took his last years in one final swoop.
Benjamin raises an arm in an attempt to grab my leg, but I step away and aim once more.
The gun whispers again and Benjamin is gone.
Seeing the blood startles me at first and my heart races, but it’s not long before I realise; there is no cavalry coming to bring justice down on me for what I have done. Not for awhile yet anyway.
Sitting down, my mind tries to settle down and bring the camera back into focus, just so things can be made much clearer. Can’t waste too much time.
“Get to it.” The bed whispers.
What’s next? Clean the scene of my existence. I patter around at a steady pace and pick up all of my casings and ensure I rub down the surface of the door handle inside and outside the bathroom.
Next up, we’re going to go to work on Benjamin; I have to try and slow down the identification and or discovery process... cleaners come every day, so dissolving his body in a bath of Lye may be a bit useless, but we can always make it difficult to put an identity on him... I’m going to assume that he used a fake name to rent this room, at the risk of his wife finding out.
From my bag, emerges a hammer; anyone who possess a squeamish nature, may want to look away now.
A crunch when I first strike him, then another, slightly less bloodcurdling and the third is just...  uncomfortable.  It becomes increasingly difficult to keep smashing what was once a face, mainly because it keeps getting wedged into bone. Occasionally, my wrist flicks of some plasma and flesh off, just to make sure I can see what I’m working with.
The smell gets right up the nostrils and I jump back, almost gagging, but managing to hold my stomach; I smile... smiling suppresses the gag reflex.
                There isn’t much left of the Benjamin that anyone would remember, but this can still be made real by his and laptop; of course he brought both of them with him; couldn’t resist filming us with his laptop, I’m sure. Of course, the hammer goes under the tap, just so we don’t end up taking too much brain matter, bone and blood with us.
I pick up his hold-all and sling it over my shoulder, then my bag and head for the door.
It’s time to leave; Benjamin can stay where he is... It’ll be sometime before he’s identified.
As for me, it’s time to catch the bus home; time to disappear into the night.
I’m going to have trouble sleeping tonight... and tomorrow and the day after that, but soon the guilt will creep away in the middle of the night and I’ll wake up and realise; the world is still turning, I’ll still be in the free world and there are a lot of people willing to sell people’s lives at a good price.
It’ll get easier and easier.
It’ll become just another job that pays for the bills, the food, the drink, the decent life.

A piece of work that I ended submitting for my 'almost-end-of-year- portfolio'.
Hope you guys have fun with it.

Saturday, 7 April 2012

A short piece.

As the curtain rises, you step out, awkwardly, but surely and say those lines that you've rehearsed to mundanity.
"I love you!"
This is the point when the crowd cheers, the lighting technicians do a fancy show, a few roses are thrown at your feet and people call you 'captivating'.
You smile and take a bow, the tie you straightened this morning falling forward and your smile taking on a life of it's own; the applause carrying your spirit as high as a weekend worthy of forgetting.
The reviewers describe how heart-fell and beautiful your performance was, worthy of that Oscar you had always wanted sitting on the dusty mantelpiece in that fifteen by fifteen apartment that you call home.
Alas, love is never that simple; your lines come out in a incomprehensible cloud of stink that have little to no effect.
A crowd that fails to react is never a bad crowd, ever.
You slouch and your head cranks forward... Smile and exit stage left. A stage-hand tells you that the lines you fluffed were decent and  you get the impression that he's a better actor than you.
"Strike while the iron's still hot!" he says, firing off clich├ęs like fly-spray.
The iron grows cold and the moment exits, stage left, it's face clutched in hands.
It disappears and your role diminishes.
Supporting actor, minor character, one-line-wonder and eventually, an Oscar-less extra that you see drinking in the pub, muttering silent words that no one ever picks up on.
"I'd like to thank my parents, but only a bad workman blames his tools."
Again, just a short piece I worked on in class, but never got a chance to actually type up.
Enjoy if at all possible! Any comments or criticism are welcome.

Friday, 6 April 2012

Video-james I can't wait for!

2012, the year of the dragon, the end of the world and above all else, the year that I will be twenty-one. Hoo-fucking-rah!
It's also a year with plenty of video-james coming out that I want to get my greedy hands on. Providing I am able to finance the purchase of these games, I will be getting them on the day of release. Why? Because the video-james are pretty sweet and being negative about the industry in this day and age is an uphill struggle for both sides of the argument.
Without further ado, this is... TOP 5 VIDEO-JAMES I CANNAE WAIT FOR!

5.
Max Payne 3.
After just recently finishing Max Payne 2, I've truely fallen for the fantastic gameplay and story-telling ways of Max Payne and his noir-ish shenanigans. The technology behind the the upcoming title looks spectacular; a collection of awesome physics, great graphics and a compelling storyline, it really looks like it could be a crown jewel in the series.


4.
The Last Of Us.
Having only seen a short bit of CGI from this game, it's somewhat unfair to get so worked up over it, but the concept grasped me in the familiar way that the more recent 'I Am Alive'. Oh and the lead female looks kinda like an Ellen Paige look alike. Glorious stuff!

3.
Dead Or Alive 5.
Boobs and boob physics.

2.
Far Cry 3.
Far Cry 2... Let's talk about your first time in bed? Awkward, clunky, sticky, looks good, but is just an embarrassment. Hopefully, this game should make up for 'Far Cry 2'. By the looks of things, it should measure up to the first one; with a collection of interesting game mechanics, good looking graphics and a story a bit more focused on character and story-telling, I'm really looking forward to this one.

1.
Hitman: Absolution.
The hitman series has always been one of my favourites and despite alterations to some of the core mechanics in the game, 'Absolution' looks like a rollercoaster ride that I look forward to taking. Unlike the majority of the Hitman fanbase, I will continue to remain optimistic about this game after hearing the words "Yes, you can beat the level with only killing the targets."
Pro-tip: SA method is best method, but not always the most fun.

Songs to write to!

Writer's block is a bastard of a concept that makes me feel useless; if I can't write, what the bloody hell else am I suppose to do? This was suppose to be one of the things I was decent at.

So when push comes to shove, you put some music on and just write, write for the sake of writing, whether it's crap or not, just to get something out there. It keeps the mind alive and the writer's work constant and sometimes very peculiar.

Here's a short list of songs and pieces of music that I think are great to write to!

5.
Artist: Lisa Miskovsky
Song: Still Alive
Album: Mirrors Edge OST
Genre: Electronic


4.
Artist: Damien Rice
Song: Dogs
Album: 9
Genre: Singer-songwriter


3.
Artist: Goldmund
Song: Hope Avenue
Album: Famous Places
Genre: Chill-wave/Neo-classical


2.
Artist: Boy Is Fiction
Song: My Veins Are Blocked
Album: Broadcasts In Colour
Genre: IDM


1.
Artist: Kashiwa Daisuke
Song: Stella
Album: Program Music I
Genre: God only knows

These are just some of the muscicians that help me through that pain in the pass that is writers block! If you have anyone's music that you use to inspire you, why not comment and let me know?
Until next time guys!



Thursday, 5 April 2012

Welcome to frog paradise

Hello,
This is my blog about video-games/james and writing!

As an aspiring writer and game-player, I thought it neccesary to blog about both of these hobbies to the fullest of my enjoyment!

So, expect game reviews, book reviews, features and other interesting stuff to keep you readers entertained.