Busy... motherfucking BUSY...

GET READY FOR A BIG FUCKER.

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Not like I'm not enjoying the hell out of my current project.... ("none but us")...

Not like it isn't the most interesting, *dark*, creative thing I've worked on in a long time...

Not like it doesn't give me the chance to be an animator... an artist... a musician (paid!)... a programmer...

Frankly, it's the most exciting thing I've worked on since I made console games...

BUT...

DAMN, it requires *effort*.

I'm making sound effects.

I'm making theme music... scoring shit... making the music go with scenes... (think 'PI'... and if you haven't seen that particularly dark masterpiece, go do so...)

Basically, I'm up until all fucking hours working on this fucker...

And I WANT to sleep... but: a) it needs doing.. impending deadline... and b) it's the coolest thing I've done for YEARS... *I* want to see it finished, damnit...

Fuck's sake.

The REASON I'm anything but uber-enthusiastic... happy to stay up all hours (let's not pretend I'm perfectly capable of all this) is my recently fucking EXTREME hedonistic lifestyle.

... Since meeting Lol... and getting into the London Goth / CyberGoth scene, I have NO BASTARD FREE TIME.

You may or may not have noticed a lack of journal entries and music on my part.

The reason is this: I've had FAR too much time spent on having a REAL LIFE to be able to update my online-presence.

Not that this is a bad thing.

Frankly, it's what I've been dreaming of since I left university.

I'm finally living the way I thought I would when I finish my degree... frenetic... multi-disciplinary... a hardcore mixture of EXTREME work and EXTREME play... not a fucking single moment to be bored.

This is no bad thing...

But it's taking time to adjust.




Right.



My life... from last week...

**BRACE YOURSELF**

...

-----------------------------------------------------------

Thursday: London SLUTS (gothic community) meet-up...

... went there after work... drank three and a half jugs of cocktails TO MYSELF... proposed marriage to everyone and everyone (male / female / alcohol alike - I'm currently both ultra-horny and ultra-needy, it seems)... got home... CRASHED.

Friday: work... followed by feeling like shit from the previous night, but knowing we have DEFINITE (i.e. TICKETS BOUGHT) plans to go out... Lol arrives... expresses annoyance at my less-than-party-ready-state... administers *medication*...

... I perk up (as you might imagine...)...

We go out.

Meet up with Jim, after various queue debacles, get into the club... get a free CD for being one of the first 100 people into the place... assume the *position*...

DANCE.

OH, MY FUCKING CHRIST.

DANCE.

Two pills.... a million drinks...

I forgot how to focus my *eyes* at one point....

...FROM *10* UNTIL *6*.

... **except** for the two hours I spent in the toilets talking to a wonderful guy (BISCUIT!) I met who was a real grin, and who's uncle Gary I claimed to be... **LONG story**... anyway, met a great new friend and his missus and their mate... WICKED...

Lol lost the ticket for the after-club party... (that we nicked off Biscuit's missus)...

Just as well.

We went home.

Lol wakes me up at 3:30pm asking if I intend to be conscious today.

I get up.

Saturday:

Given the late start, we promptly mong out for the day.

And the evening.

And the night.

We watch shit telly... I moan about my full-body-pain.

Lol finds this amusing in a "I'm far more hardcore than you, you pansy" kind of way.

Darkness falls.

After three abortive attempts... we order pizza... and eat it.

After a while, Lol brings up the fact that we're sposed to be out at FIVE house parties tonight, and what, *precisely* do we plan to do about it.

I suggest we just hit the ONE.

Lol acquiesces.

I get ready (read: get changed, re-do my spikes, find road maps for where we're going).

We go.

We get in the car, armed with my Palm Pilot's notepad version of the route we're following, pizza, vodka, cola, sleeping equipment, and, at 11:14pm, leave the house.

Along the way (oh, lord, I don't even want to describe the subjective experience of Lol's wonderful "KILL THE FUCKING WORLD" driving technique from the position of a man who doesn't know whether he's coming down or pilling up... CHRIST...) I manage to spill vodka over myself, the seat and... well, most of the car.

Lol finds this annoying, but amusing.

I simply cry over the loss of sweet, *sweet* vodka...

**ANYWAY**...

We go to LOL's house and ditch some chemicals, pick up MORE chemicals and Lol's mixer and CDs....

THEN we head out to the party.

We finally arrive at NOZ's party at 12:30am.

We're SO fashionably late it's as if we're cunts.

Fortunately, almost everyone is that pleased that we bothered to turn up that the matter passes.

We drink.

We imbibe.

We smoke.

We talk.

We DANCE (again).

We combine the above until 5am.

We sleep.

Sunday: We get up... mid-day... and wonder what the fuck to do.

At this point, please note that I have an article on "how to write games for the Pocket PC in Flash 4" to write from scratch before monday.

We travel home.

I spend three hours avoiding work.

Lol pops ANOTHER *e* and mongs out on my bed while I get into the right frame of mind to write an article for a magazine for moronic web designers.

Eventually, I kick in and start working, and Lol pisses off while he still has legs.

I work until 4am writing the fucker.

THEN... I get up at 8am and go to work on my OTHER major project (the FUN one)...

Monday:

I feel like SHIT.

I get shit from the magazine editors because they can't use computers.

I get shit from my other project because they aren't sure if the bug is down to me or the (currently on holiday) database programmer...

*Fortunately*, I manage to do the FUN project's work (animating and a minimum of coding) *quite well*.

I work late.

I get home late.

I go to sleep *relatively early*.

Tuesday:

5am, my phone wakes me up SLAP BANG IN THE MIDDLE OF HARD ASS REM SLEEP to tell me it's out of juice.

Hilariously, the phone's designers thought it would be a laugh to inform you that the phone is running out of power by using the last dregs of energy that are left to beep EXTREMELY LOUDLY.

I plug the fucker in to shut it up and go back to sleep.

I awake feeling like god's own cock.

MAN, do I feel rough.

I go to work.

I almost fall asleep at my terminal.

I buy coffee.

The day passes relatively well after the caffeine infusion.

I come home.... to CONTINUE WORKING...

After a day's animating / coding, I spend my evening making sound effects and scoring up music for the project.

GOD DAMN.

I AM STILL DOING THIS NOW.

THIS IS MY FIRST TEN MINUTE BREAK TODAY, AND I'M USING IT TO CATCH UP ON MY LAST WEEK'S FUCKING LIFE ON MY LJ.

Oh, lordy.

It's 1:45am, and I am NOWHERE near done.

The only saving grace is that because I'm doing *mostly* sound work, I'm drunk.

Thank FUCKING christ.

Right. LJ-responsibilities: Fulfilled.

I'm going back to my work.

SOME point this week, I'm going to write a few more tracks.

If I'm still alive.

"May you live in interesting times.... you FUCK."