...developing an unhealthy obsession with Helen and Tim. She just made this :

This is why she is my perfect woman.

...the weekend, when I got the chance to catch up with an old schoolchum for the first time in ages. She goes out with a rugby player, who's also a mate of Gavin Henson's :

[Schoolchum and boyfriend are leaving their house, on the way to a function. A taxi pulls up as they are walking down the street, and Gavin Henson jumps out]
Henson : Hi there. Come over to the taxi... There's someone I want you to meet.
Schoolchum : Well, we're in a bit of a rush. We really have to get a move on.
Henson : Oh come on - it'll just take a minute. There's someone I really want you to meet.
[At this point Charlotte Church pops her head out of the taxi, her hair all dishevelled]
Church (bellows) : Your mother's a fucking whore!
Schoolchum : Why... Is that the Voice Of An Angel ?
[Pause]
Henson : That's not funny.

...a while, I shall inflict a weekend round-up on you chumps :

- Well, it was all rather splendid. On Friday, my working day consisted of driving around the county, taking pictures of buildings and beaches. Then Nooma and I embarked on our first ever Road Trip, to Oxford. On the way we stopped to buy picnic ingredients. Being all excited and sub-mature about our adventure, we bought food to suit the mood - ice-cream, cheese, Doritos, and Smartie cake-type-things. A surefire way of ensuring that we felt really sick by the end of the journey. Upon our arrival, I had the most urgent fruit-craving of my life. So I drank a load of beer. Hops is a fruit, is it not ?

- Myself, bub and dor made our way to The Ants' Nest on Saturday. On the train, dor managed to insult everyone in the carriage from Reading just as they were about to get off, by being exceedingly disparaging about their home town. Hooray!

- A good chum of mine was having a party in Clapham. A barbecue, in fact. So we all huddled underneath a really leaky gazebo, and ate charred flesh as the rain pumped down.

- I went to see Me First and the Gimme Gimmes at the Astoria. I was forced to rock very hard. As the band claimed that R Kelly spent all his royalties for their cover of 'I Believe I Can Fly' on urine, I hurt people and got sweaty.

- For Sunday lunch, we adjourned to a pub on the river in Oxford. I had to punch one of my good chums under the table at one point, as he excitedly complimented Nooma on her picture of Tim (of www.helenandtim.com fame) kissing a goat. The game was almost given away, but I think we successfully covered our tracks by claiming it had been attached to a round robin email. This is all quite near the knuckle, as I accidentally revealed the existence of this blog to her last week - but refused to give her the link when pressed. She even offered to show me something I can't mention in return for supplying the link. I'm amazed I managed to keep it to myself.

- We went for a walk round a lake in a lovely college; and then drove home - chatting whimsically about Lego, farting, group sex, squeezing spots, and god. I think both of us were disappointed to part at the end of our adventure; both being keen to drag it out for as long as possible.

So, an almost perfect weekend. Were it not for the fact that I am still being remiss in killing her boyfriend (or - failing that - making her realise that she actually loves me, not him), it could have been the best one ever.

...a lost weekend :

- Multiple injuries. An exploded big toenail. My own fault for wearing flip-flops whilst slamming to a band. Multiple cuts and bruises to the legs. Some from dune-jumping, without realising a hidden bit of jutting-up wood was hiding in the sand. Bad shoulder. No idea wot I did to that.

- The Yeah Yeah Yeahs - the band I most wanted to see at the festival - I slept through.

- I asked a girl to kiss me. She said no. But politely.

- We were too late to sign up for an oversubscribed music quiz at the nearby pub. So we held our own instead. Had to write forty questions in about half an hour, and think up prizes on the spot. I gave away a badge from the Heavy Petting Zoo to the team that came last. I should remember not to give presents from Nooma away in future.

- I lost my phone. Feel free to send me your number.

- Bloody Marys.

That's all I can remember from spending a vast amount of money on a festival ticket, supplies, and on petrol to drive 728 miles. For the rest of this week, I shall be lying down.

...are coming back to me. Possibly my favourite quote of the weekend :

[We see a topless middle-aged man wearing braces]

Bub: Look - that guy's got braces tattooed on his back. How rock is that ? It must be an 'Oi' thing.

...write much anymore. There is what looks like a fossilised angry miniature fish-bird hybrid invader in my curtain. I could have blogged about that. But I didn't.

I've been trying to get my head around this recently. I could blog, but I don't. I can't work out why. I guess I could blog about Nooma; but - two years down the line - I'm starting to find the whole situation predictable, frustrating and... well... dull. Although I don't think I ever mentioned that her boyfriend *loves* Embrace. Yet even this massive injustice seems to have acquired a grey, cardboardy flavour.

About a year ago, I complained like a drama-queen that I had misplaced my soul. I think this goes round in circles.

Hence I'm making an appeal to my dwindling readership. Remember when I took on blog requests for a week ? Well, I plan to do that again - starting Monday. But this time, I plan to combine the subject matters with where it all went wrong at the beginning of the week, and build up to how it can be made right again by next Friday. So I would like some requests for blog topics, please. And then I will deliver one blog a day, for a week - with an arc encompassing the loss and hopefully regaining of my soul. Like One Idea Per Day, but with less of a catchy title, and significantly less talent.

So... What would you like me to blog about ?

P.S. Embrace ? I ask you. What a cunt.

...hear (despite being an abomination to even think of) :

• 'Debaser' by Timmy Mallett and Bomballerina
  
• 'Territorial Pissings' by Meatloaf
  
• 'Teenage Kicks' by Eurovision hopeful Daz Sampson
  
• '911 Is A Joke' by Simon LeBon (hang on...)
  
• 'Such Great Heights' by Slipknot
  
• 'Somebody Told Me' by Liverpool FC (with a guest rap by John Barnes)

Any other thoughts ?

Plus, I'm still taking requests for blog subjects for next week. So why not throw something at me ?

...press release concerning the theft of all-terrain bikes in the area, I found myself writing the working headline 'Say No To Hot Quads'. The fact that I found this funny will certainly guarantee the reservation of an entire floor of Hell.

Anyway, where are my blog topic suggestions ?

...that Imple B Ogglethorpe, commentator on Helen and Tim's website guestbook, is someone from 20Six. Step forward, and admit your shame.

This, of course, is just a cheap way of bringing to your attention that I have also signed said guestbook. It's pretty obvious which comment is mine.

And all of this, of course, is another cheap attempt to promote Helen and Tim's beastly display as the web's biggest sensation since Mahir.

P.S. Per Nooma : "I might ask them if they will both be travelling to the chuch in vehicles powered entirely by their own sense of self satisfaction". Sadly, as yet, she has been too much of a candy-ass to post.

...to have noticed that I haven't started my week of soul-searching whilst taking blopic requests, I don't think I'll bother to offer an explanation. Instead, I'm gonna show you wot I won on eBay (after bidding drunkenly, and then forgetting that I had done until I won) :

Wot self-respecting music fan could be without a set of Kiss plectrums ? Now I can truly rock and roll all night, and party every day etc. etc.

Also, it is worth noting that Helen and Tim dot com have deleted my comment - along with numerous others - from their guestbook. How dare they ? I managed to capture Nooma's entry (?) for posterity before it no doubt goes the same way. See it here.

Oh, and why haven't I started doing the requests ? Because I've been really busy. It really is that simple. And dull.

...some controversy over a preview piece I wrote for an up and coming snooker event in the county. Or, rather, with a picture included in the piece of John Parrot :

Apparently the sponsor is "hopping mad". I mean, honestly. I shall duly replace it with a picture of a black ball being fired directly into the sponsor's anus.

...feeling rather fragile after 33 hours of drinking over the last two days. My current state of 'Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas'-esqueness has been compounded by my friends' (sic) discovery of permanent marker pens. Now my house is covered in 'art' and 'musings'. I give you this, for example, on my living-room door :

It is a very good thing that the house is scheduled to be demolished after we've vacated, as otherwise the landlord would be justified in slicing me to bits.

...on my birthday - possibly even my life - by a country mile :

Made personally by Nooma. This is game over for me.