What a long strange journey it is...

25 years of Love and Rockets. We are both getting old. I remember reading these as they came out (and I could afford them) in a housing association flat with the first of the white cats. And I am re-reading Locas from the beginning.

Now, back to work...

The kids are alright

Indeed they are. I finally met with a selection of the often mentioned (and maligned) youth of today, and you know what? They are fine. Probably less spotty and more together than I was at their age.
Every generation thinks that their parents (and grandparents) were gods, and that they are the last civilised generation. Every generation is wrong. There were no golden ages. There will be no monsters raised entirely by Playstation 3.

You think we would learn...

For the dead

Music by Gene.
One of those times. Couple of people I heard about but didn't know have died young (ish). It happens every day, and one day most of the world will never know when it happens to you, me and everyone we know. Unless it is really out of the ordinary.

Love your family, love your friends, love everyone.
It is a short day in the sun.

to serve them all our days

Apparently, Russian fishermen have found a strange alien creature making squeeking noises ... and eaten it. Let's hope it does not have friends who come a looking. Unless of course they say, "It's ok - Fred did look sort of delicious", and don't follow it up with "and so do your children. Can I borrow some ketchup?".

http://english.pravda.ru/science/mysteries/07-02-2007/87167-alien_monster-0

In other news, Pravda is still going? In other, other news, there is a Russian Fark?

Picture is a New York grafitti artist. Nice isn't it?
Title is from Microdisney

Context is everything

Two matches, sucessive 0-1 defeats after outplaying our opponents. Two different reactions. Losing to the Scum was gutting, losing to Barca but still putting out the best team in the world completely different. The Scum should win the Premiership - they have the luck. We could easily have won three or four nil.
But now I am dreading the draw for the Champions League - I really want a foreign club, but it could be that 4 of the 7 are British (more realistically, forget Celtic).

Curiously Mrs Breadwinner is Barca for a few days trying to earn a shekel or two. Leaving me with the breadcrumbs and more work than I can manage. So, I'm not managing and mainly letting it wash over the top of me. Life is not helped by a kind of collective nervous breakdown by the family technology. Amongst the victims are the Purple People Carrier, the washing machine and at least one of the DVD players.

Don't get me started on the fucking Virgin/Sky debacle. Tonight I missed Battlestar Galactica for the first week. The fuckers are going to pay for that.

The short, sharp cut is healing nicely. Stitches out tomorrow.

out, out damn spot

So, a small vertical incision, and a biopsy. Do you think it will make me look hard? Maybe be some protection for when the Mighty Reds play the Scum tomorrow lunchtime. Or maybe a provocation. Who knows.

Meanwhile Virgin Media are denying me my Battlestar Galactica. To say the least I am pissed (in the American sense of the phrase). Where do they think they get off? "it was too expensive, so we decided to drop it and not pass the savings along to you..." Jeez. What a shower.

To quote the most excellent Ms Winehouse, what kind of Fuckery is this?

I feel like getting all Executioner one Richard Branson's ass. This is probably my favourite page in comics. Certainly top 5 along with Cerebus and the countess, The Death of Speedy and death of the Invisible Man in League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and you are in here with me from Watchmen. In case you need a clue it is from Walt Simonson's Thor.