<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920</id><updated>2011-08-15T19:22:46.878+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Objects in Space</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>245</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-9000303092020039019</id><published>2010-11-17T23:50:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-11-17T23:51:04.537Z</updated><title type='text'>tumblr</title><content type='html'>It suits my needs better now.&lt;br /&gt;I have been hesitant to join for a good while now, but the transition has been a good one.&lt;br /&gt;I can never feel like I can just have a day of small, insignificant posts on here, here I feel things are much proper and correct.&lt;br /&gt;Or that is just how I see blogspot anyway.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this is where it's at:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"&gt;this-is-the-sea.tumblr.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-9000303092020039019?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/9000303092020039019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/tumblr.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/9000303092020039019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/9000303092020039019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/tumblr.html' title='tumblr'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-4928244662531171287</id><published>2010-11-16T23:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-11-16T23:31:18.832Z</updated><title type='text'>Rest in piece, mug of mine.</title><content type='html'>I broke my Mickey Mouse mug. A good mug. It served me well over many, many years.&lt;br /&gt;I've never had a mug for such a length of time as I always break them, or someone breaks them for me.&lt;br /&gt;But this mug survived, and for that, I loved it.&lt;br /&gt;Now it is gone.&lt;br /&gt;I am quite saddened by it's sudden and unjust death, but life must go on and I shall find a new, maybe better, mug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/TOMTZ7Mb-CI/AAAAAAAAAFk/VdiA0Lh1c_E/s1600/100_0309.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/TOMTZ7Mb-CI/AAAAAAAAAFk/VdiA0Lh1c_E/s320/100_0309.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-4928244662531171287?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/4928244662531171287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/rest-in-piece-mug-of-mine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4928244662531171287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4928244662531171287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/rest-in-piece-mug-of-mine.html' title='Rest in piece, mug of mine.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/TOMTZ7Mb-CI/AAAAAAAAAFk/VdiA0Lh1c_E/s72-c/100_0309.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-7583168139770255717</id><published>2010-11-14T17:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-11-14T17:25:42.349Z</updated><title type='text'>Karma</title><content type='html'>Did six good deeds last night.&lt;br /&gt;One good deed today.&lt;br /&gt;As a result of feeling good about myself I am calling it quits with work after sticking in a few photos and shall watch an unhealthy amount of beautiful cinema.&lt;br /&gt;Best thing is, even if I fail my course I'll have a portfolio to get a job.&lt;br /&gt;And anyway, watching films is research in my head.&lt;br /&gt;Well first I will do some work, that beauty mask thing. I'll attempt to photoshop it so I'll probably be working all night as a result.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-7583168139770255717?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/7583168139770255717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/karma.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7583168139770255717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7583168139770255717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/karma.html' title='Karma'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-2438322200079359150</id><published>2010-11-13T21:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-11-13T21:00:19.696Z</updated><title type='text'>Shout has gone!</title><content type='html'>Horray!&lt;br /&gt;Ding dong the witch is dead, and all that jazz.&lt;br /&gt;But, Bliss opens tonight.&lt;br /&gt;I feel it is going to be just as shit. Can't polish a shit and all that jazz.&lt;br /&gt;And I can no longer say I haven't seen two girls, one cup. Quite literally shit, and all that jazz.&lt;br /&gt;Jazz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-2438322200079359150?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/2438322200079359150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/shout-has-gone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2438322200079359150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2438322200079359150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/shout-has-gone.html' title='Shout has gone!'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-508088438921440248</id><published>2010-11-12T17:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-11-12T17:54:06.563Z</updated><title type='text'>Update on my head.</title><content type='html'>My assessment went as alright as one can do with wax. God, wax is shite, but I should of seen the last of it for the foreseeable future now.&lt;br /&gt;Shame it had to be on the same day as the student fee protest.&lt;br /&gt;Unlike most people, I liked the rioting. Of course, violence is never the final solution, but it shows the power rests in each individual hands, and to quote V For Vendetta, the government should be afraid of their people. Then again, we are not is some fascist police state. Then again, the point still remains.&lt;br /&gt;While we are speaking of occurrences in London; poppy burning.&lt;br /&gt;I'm on the fence about it, it was a bit extreme, but I can see the message.&lt;br /&gt;I believe WWII was wholeheartedly justified. My history on WWI is not so great so I can't comment on it. But the current wars are not justified.&lt;br /&gt;When you look at WWII, and imagine things from each perspective it is clear when looking at things the Nazis did like mass genocide, that is without a doubt wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Now though, you can look of each sides of the war and understand why everyone is doing what they are doing. Two wrongs don't make a right.&lt;br /&gt;And I really hate all the people that dispense hatred on the Middle East like they are in the right.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I am bias as I hate the West.&lt;br /&gt;It truly is a terrible world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, on a lighter note, here is a picture I forgot about.&lt;br /&gt;Met two guys outside Shout and his mate was trying to sell him to woman, I said I pay a fiver and then I had to kiss him.&lt;br /&gt;Fun, drunk times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/TN1_A13UgHI/AAAAAAAAAFg/K-xTIQkJmQU/s1600/72446_1666624947846_1303955218_31851257_3696898_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/TN1_A13UgHI/AAAAAAAAAFg/K-xTIQkJmQU/s320/72446_1666624947846_1303955218_31851257_3696898_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-508088438921440248?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/508088438921440248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/update-on-my-head.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/508088438921440248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/508088438921440248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/update-on-my-head.html' title='Update on my head.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/TN1_A13UgHI/AAAAAAAAAFg/K-xTIQkJmQU/s72-c/72446_1666624947846_1303955218_31851257_3696898_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-9123613567456813270</id><published>2010-11-10T00:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-11-10T00:12:45.014Z</updated><title type='text'>First assessment tomorrow!</title><content type='html'>And I am far to excited for it!&lt;br /&gt;This is how I never get stressed, I get excited about all the wrong things.&lt;br /&gt;I'm out of my depressed rut, well and truly. Though I still am forever stuck with what to do with my life.&lt;br /&gt;I am reading a good book at the moment called Men, Monsters &amp;amp; Make Up, and the stories are things I want to do. But if only I was born a few decades earlier I could be pioneering make up.&lt;br /&gt;Then again, there is still plenty to pioneer now. I'd love to be as amazing as Stan Winston.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, my thought trail has escaped me now.&lt;br /&gt;Gutted that I am not going home this weekend, but I am also glad in a way as loads of people are going home so I'd feel like I was leaving behind the few friends here that are staying.&lt;br /&gt;It'll be a good weekend, that I am sure of.&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, must sleep now.&lt;br /&gt;Much love.&lt;br /&gt;Peace out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-9123613567456813270?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/9123613567456813270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/first-assessment-tomorrow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/9123613567456813270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/9123613567456813270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/first-assessment-tomorrow.html' title='First assessment tomorrow!'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-7621063344614372220</id><published>2010-11-04T18:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-11-04T18:18:57.779Z</updated><title type='text'>BIG FUCKING NEWS!</title><content type='html'>I just had my first microwaved meal of university.&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, also, Tim made his first meal from scratch the other day.&lt;br /&gt;This flat is like living in Freaky Friday!&lt;br /&gt;Shit man.&lt;br /&gt;I need a model for next week.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not asking you, I just need to write it somewhere as it will make me get up and sort it out.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, that's it, I just thought it was huge news that I ate something from the microwave.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-7621063344614372220?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/7621063344614372220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/big-fucking-news.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7621063344614372220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7621063344614372220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/big-fucking-news.html' title='BIG FUCKING NEWS!'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-4667812950415352858</id><published>2010-11-03T00:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-11-03T00:38:14.966Z</updated><title type='text'>Everybody Takes a Tumble</title><content type='html'>First time I have blogged in quick succession for some time. Must be the boredom.&lt;br /&gt;I want to watch a zombie film, but a new one that I haven't seen. Easier said than done.&lt;br /&gt;So I think I may watch 28 Days Later. Though I always ache to watch the second one more, even if the first is better. The second is nice and easy, sit back and watch kinda thing. Nothing at all to do with my feelings for Jeremy Renner.&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of which, I really want to watch The Town.&lt;br /&gt;And Saw 3D.&lt;br /&gt;I did see Paranormal Activity 2, it was like a cheap, cheap, cheap roller coaster.&lt;br /&gt;So I'll probably watch 28 Days Later.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, this post is just the inside of my head.&lt;br /&gt;Today was good, my journal for visual studies kicks everyones arse, and I haven't even put my research in yet.&lt;br /&gt;Did some sculpting. Last time I tried I was shocking, but absence makes the sculptors heart grow fonder as I made a pretty mean skull. But no camera, so he's now squashed in my bag and needs re-moulding.&lt;br /&gt;I also got to wear my mustache that Sarah made. It felt like coming home. I need a beard, pronto!&lt;br /&gt;But yes, today is well. Though I just feel like a surface at the moment, my tender insides have become recluse until it is safe to come out, probably.&lt;br /&gt;Goo Goo Dolls soon! That will be freakin' schweet!&lt;br /&gt;Erm, what else to bore people with?&lt;br /&gt;Watched The Mist, shed some tears.&lt;br /&gt;Firefly is still awesome.&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, I need to order The Fly soon. I'm calling it research to warrant the spending.&lt;br /&gt;Just like the £7 sticker warranted getting The Crazies. And just like the £3 sticker warranted getting that Lynyrd Skynyrd album. Good times.&lt;br /&gt;My legs are too cold out of my duvet, yet too warm under it. Such is my life.&lt;br /&gt;I may have one of those mug cakes for film watching, but I'll have to siphon some sugar off someone.&lt;br /&gt;Scrapping the barrel now, so here is a picture of Mike Scott. Because he's lovely.&lt;br /&gt;Writing all those songs about my life.&lt;br /&gt;What a dude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/glastonbury/2007/artists/waterboys/photos/02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="228" src="http://www.bbc.co.uk/glastonbury/2007/artists/waterboys/photos/02.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-4667812950415352858?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/4667812950415352858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/everybody-takes-tumble.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4667812950415352858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4667812950415352858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/everybody-takes-tumble.html' title='Everybody Takes a Tumble'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-7579350323511507457</id><published>2010-11-01T00:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-11-01T00:39:12.976Z</updated><title type='text'>You wanna wrap your arms around your head, turn out the lights  and roll yourself into a ball.</title><content type='html'>And I really, really do want to do that.&lt;br /&gt;The Waterboys work perfectly for this slump of a mood too.&lt;br /&gt;God, I am so hopelessly depressed today. I did have a nice moment with Caroline in the kitchen, just laughing together as we always do.&lt;br /&gt;But the rest of the day has been painful.&lt;br /&gt;I want to go home for a week, then when I come back everything will feel fresh.&lt;br /&gt;I should be sleeping as I have a day full of lessons tomorrow, I have already made the decision not to go in.&lt;br /&gt;No, I'd just be overly quiet, look depressed, they'll be questions and any work I'd try would be shit. And those annoying questions would turn me more sour and I'd snap and say something awful.&lt;br /&gt;No, I shall set an alarm depending on what time I go to sleep so that I can stay in tomorrow and work. I'll finish my sideburns and get loads of drawing done and do a fucktonne of research for next weeks assignment.&lt;br /&gt;A more worthwhile day if you ask me because all I would do in class would sit and have make up put on, then not have enough time for me to apply some to someone. Hairdressing is shit and I can just style the wedding hair here in my room. Then prosthetics will most likely be some test make ups for next week. All of it I can do here in the only company I want, which is my own.&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I am hoping that I will get swallowed up in work and get all carried away that when I stop I will of forgotten about feeling depressed.&lt;br /&gt;A sound plan.&lt;br /&gt;But why am I feeling this way?&lt;br /&gt;Last night was pretty shit, and it was Hallowe'en at the stroke of midnight and I just wanted to go back to Halls and watch a film, not be in the shit hole that is Shout.&lt;br /&gt;At least I got a load of compliments for my make up.&lt;br /&gt;Today has been terrible too, not at all like Hallowe'en, and that is because I'm so used to family things on Hallowe'en. Siblings and trick or treating. My mum called me though, which was a lovely seven minutes.&lt;br /&gt;Yet do not get confused, my mood is not because I am home sick.&lt;br /&gt;No, it is because I pin my hopes onto things because I just don't know where to put my feet. Then these hopes don't live up.&lt;br /&gt;I feel so lost. I still am clueless with what I want my life to be.&lt;br /&gt;And I am too inarticulate to make something out of it.&lt;br /&gt;Then I was listening to Medicine Bow (again, The Waterboys) and he was singing what I wanted to do. I want to write a song.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, it's just that aged old feeling of cluelessness which gets me depressed ever other month or two.&lt;br /&gt;No matter how many times it will pass and look oh so melodramatic, it really gets me down.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow should snap me out of it, especially doing some creature designs and thinking that maybe I could go into something after this.&lt;br /&gt;But right now, I shall watch Firefly and feel sorry for myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-7579350323511507457?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/7579350323511507457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/you-wanna-wrap-your-arms-around-your.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7579350323511507457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7579350323511507457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/11/you-wanna-wrap-your-arms-around-your.html' title='You wanna wrap your arms around your head, turn out the lights  and roll yourself into a ball.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-378909252366980257</id><published>2010-10-29T00:17:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-29T00:17:24.462+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Hallowe'en Party tomorrow!</title><content type='html'>God I am excited, all my stuff came the other day so it is going to be bitchin'!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slashfilm.com/wp/wp-content/images/tdktwofaceorigin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="271" src="http://www.slashfilm.com/wp/wp-content/images/tdktwofaceorigin.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-378909252366980257?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/378909252366980257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/10/halloween-party-tomorrow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/378909252366980257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/378909252366980257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/10/halloween-party-tomorrow.html' title='Hallowe&apos;en Party tomorrow!'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-2475816001444433965</id><published>2010-10-26T01:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-26T01:12:24.965+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Goth Juice</title><content type='html'>Today I looked like Howard Moon when he dressed as a goth.&lt;br /&gt;Good old make up.&lt;br /&gt;I can't do eye shadow for shit, then again we were using black which is a bitch to blend, or so I was reassured.&lt;br /&gt;I'll practice.&lt;br /&gt;But tonight I have that feeling of not wanting to be here. I put a lot onto university, thinking fresh starts, and yes it is amazing, but I want to be working somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;Don't really want to go in tomorrow, I am far too tired. I blame the peer pressure of staying up late, but when I get back tomorrow I shall make some food, then think about doing work, not do work and watch a film or two until I fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;I've been aching to watch a film for ages but when I have my laptop I don't want to watch one, and when I lend it to someone I want to watch a film. But tomorrow, regardless, I shall hide and watch a film.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow shouldn't be too bad, just visual studies (which sadly ends after Christmas, leaving a massive art based module hole in my life), then postiche. Though I haven't finished making my side burns. I was going to get up and do one in the morning, but I will indefinitely sleep. Mustache is done though, so they can't complain too hard.&lt;br /&gt;And I pray my Hallowe'en stuff arrives soon, otherwise I'll cry and the whole year will be ruined.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-2475816001444433965?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/2475816001444433965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/10/goth-juice.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2475816001444433965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2475816001444433965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/10/goth-juice.html' title='Goth Juice'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-7439729176281260258</id><published>2010-10-17T21:39:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T21:39:46.141+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Eurgh!</title><content type='html'>To say I feel like death would be wrong. Death would be peaceful and relaxing, and these are feelings I am far from.&lt;br /&gt;However, I regret nothing.&lt;br /&gt;I have been out three nights in a row now, and that is fine as I got a letter from student finance saying I get around five and a half grand now. Last night was the best of the three.&lt;br /&gt;First was Taunton carnival. It was so grand, but I didn't really understand it. Each to their own.&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't planning on going out, then I was in the Perkin, funny how life takes you places. Then Mambo, I do love that place. And that is where we remained until it shut, then went back and drank and talked until the sun came up, then stayed up more.&lt;br /&gt;I fell asleep around eleven, woke up at two, went to bed, then I got a phone call so I gave up with sleep and finally started one of my journals.&lt;br /&gt;But back to last night, it was marvelous, every minute was great. The company, the conversation and the dancing. Somewhere along the line I ended up talking to four Norwegian girls for a while, some say I pulled them, I have no experience to say what it was, but it was nice.&lt;br /&gt;I just want to go back to last night and live in it, that is how much I enjoyed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now my mother has got a puppy. The first dog had to be taken back, so now we have a puppy. I really need to go home, really, really need to go now. At some point in the next few weeks I shall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SaeLKhRnkhQ?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SaeLKhRnkhQ?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-7439729176281260258?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/7439729176281260258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/10/eurgh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7439729176281260258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7439729176281260258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/10/eurgh.html' title='Eurgh!'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-4078004673898122279</id><published>2010-10-15T05:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T05:24:15.987+01:00</updated><title type='text'>How I Met Your Mother.</title><content type='html'>These days I end up going to bed when I used to wake up to go to work.&lt;br /&gt;It's like seeing how the other half live.&lt;br /&gt;Also, my life is like How I Met Your Mother. Because I'm so egocentric, everything I watch has to be somehow brought back to myself.&lt;br /&gt;In this situation I am Ted, and I have found my Robin. I'm pretty sure that regardless of Ted's and Robin's different wants and needs out of life I will still end up with Robin.&lt;br /&gt;And my dad visited today, surprisingly pleasant it was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-4078004673898122279?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/4078004673898122279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/10/how-i-met-your-mother.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4078004673898122279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4078004673898122279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/10/how-i-met-your-mother.html' title='How I Met Your Mother.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-5334009430089948443</id><published>2010-10-11T19:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T19:59:46.993+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Degeneration of skin.</title><content type='html'>This doesn't even belong in the back seat anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I often think about maybe doing a post, but I can never be arsed, too busy living life and all that jazz.&lt;br /&gt;Not at the moment though, just waiting for The Inbetweeners and drinking coffee and trying to find some Goo Goo Dolls tickets for Brixton. It's not going well at all.&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking because it turns out one of my flat mates is a fan of them too! Amazing, I know. We are looking for tickets to go and see them along with another flat mate, and maybe siblings too. But my hopes are being repeatedly dashed each time I open another ticket related website.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we'll get lucky...&lt;br /&gt;University is still going fine and dandy, but I was in bed last night thinking how it would be much better to live in a flat with all these people here without the work.&lt;br /&gt;I'll need to go home soon too, for I have been replaced with a labrador. Yep, you heard, a dog! Crazy, I thought my mother would never get one.&lt;br /&gt;My dad will be here Thursday too, luckily I have college all day so it should just be a short, awkward evening.&lt;br /&gt;The flat is decorated for Hallowe'en already! I love that Stacey shares my love for the most wonderful time of year. I also need to order my Skin Wizard stuff for my Two Face costume. I do hope for it to be as amazing as I picture it.&lt;br /&gt;I also seem to be a small topic of conversation at the moment, about certain things. I must say, I love the attention.&lt;br /&gt;I love everything right now, I was lying here in the kitchen earlier with people around me and thinking how everything was going great. After being here just a few weeks it's like we are all one family. It will only get better as the year goes on too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-5334009430089948443?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/5334009430089948443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/10/degeneration-of-skin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5334009430089948443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5334009430089948443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/10/degeneration-of-skin.html' title='Degeneration of skin.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-1130939423062717114</id><published>2010-10-05T01:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T01:07:34.402+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodness in my belly.</title><content type='html'>I love how many days can pass between posts, it reminds me that I have a proper good life going on.&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel homesick in the slightest anymore, that was just the first week.&lt;br /&gt;I can just wander about halls and walk into kitchens on my own without the need of a buffer friend. I do feel in my element, that is certain.&lt;br /&gt;This said, I am looking forward to going home soon, I shall probably go some time this month or early November. I feel bad because I can't remember it all that well, the day to day life of home and all the faces and usual conversations that would be had.&lt;br /&gt;But I am growing up more and more each day.&lt;br /&gt;Today we were applying foundation. I feel it went alright...&lt;br /&gt;I lack the years of practice, but I can paint so I have transferable skills at least. I do feel out of place sometimes, but this afternoon when we were doing sun tan make up I felt really confident and was having a ball. And I feel like I did a pretty good job and I kick myself for not taking a picture.&lt;br /&gt;I shall try and organise some sort of make up evening this week and get the girls to dispense advice, and I just want to play more.&lt;br /&gt;I ordered my make up case the other day so fingers crossed it comes this week. I shall definitely take it home at Christmas and do some make up for friends, just to hopefully show off and get more practice.&lt;br /&gt;Ahh, tomorrow shall be a good day. Visual studies and postiche.&lt;br /&gt;Which reminds me, I mustn't forget all my stuff I left in the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;I should sleep as I am catching the early bus tomorrow. I intend to do some work before nine, however I might just read my book. Or I might take my prosthetics book and read about wigs...&lt;br /&gt;I have that wonderful feeling in my belly when you know all is right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-1130939423062717114?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/1130939423062717114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/10/goodness-in-my-belly.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/1130939423062717114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/1130939423062717114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/10/goodness-in-my-belly.html' title='Goodness in my belly.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-6448903523277893988</id><published>2010-10-01T14:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T14:54:31.691+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Redemption Day</title><content type='html'>Just balled my eyes out watching the death of Phil Harris.&lt;br /&gt;I have known people who have died and not shed a tear, whereas if a guy off a documentary dies it will tear up my day.&lt;br /&gt;I'm hopelessly upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/F1O4PRWJi4M?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/F1O4PRWJi4M?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;Anyway, last night was fun. Finally it was my turn to spew, yet I like to think I had some style and grace to it and more importantly I carried on partying and drinking afterwards. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;Uni life is still excellent. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;But I miss Phil Harris more than anything in the world right now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-6448903523277893988?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/6448903523277893988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/10/redemption-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/6448903523277893988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/6448903523277893988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/10/redemption-day.html' title='Redemption Day'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-4874734146862414109</id><published>2010-09-24T16:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T16:40:23.359+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Student Night!</title><content type='html'>I dare not list everything from last night, just to be safe.&lt;br /&gt;And I can say that I am a new person, without a shadow of a doubt.&lt;br /&gt;See, I made a squaddie friend last night, and you all know how I feel about the army. All my opinions aside, he was a sound guy. Spend most the night in male company which was refreshing, ended up running and climbing across a construction site to get to Tesco just to buy some more beer at like two in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;Taxi home, then went to someone's flat where he cooked a load of meat, then we ate said meat, and it was good.&lt;br /&gt;I only just had breakfast a couple of hours ago, plenty of bacon, eggs, toast and coffee and then I watched the last episode of The OC.&lt;br /&gt;It will always be an emotional time. Now my life feels empty, it's truly terrible that when a programme I love finishes makes me feel this way. I end up feeling lost and friendless.&lt;br /&gt;It's not Winter yet so I can't watch Band of Brothers, so I may watch Firefly soon. Then cry when that finishes too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6DvvyPcWOpA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6DvvyPcWOpA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-4874734146862414109?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/4874734146862414109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/student-night.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4874734146862414109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4874734146862414109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/student-night.html' title='Student Night!'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-8249213541083109920</id><published>2010-09-20T16:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T16:25:10.237+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Induction Day mk. 1</title><content type='html'>Went into college today for my first day as a student.&lt;br /&gt;As far as I know, everything went swimmingly, tutors are lovely as are everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;Getting to know new people is always a great thing, each one with their many stories to tell, myself included.&lt;br /&gt;I like how they warned us that their is more work than we could imagine because I have been waiting far too long to sink my teeth into some meaty work. I'm looking forward to doing all the journal and process work, like when I did my Extended Project, that was really fun as it was my own choice.&lt;br /&gt;Last night I was feeling homesick, at least this is what I assume I was feeling. I very nearly just went to bed early but I took a look at myself and I was one of those people I had been criticising so rather than be a hypocrite I went to the bar and met people. It was a wise move, Daniel.&lt;br /&gt;But now I feel in my element as I have met the rest of the people on my course and just then I was catching up with people on Facebook, it made me feel rooted.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow shall be another good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-8249213541083109920?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/8249213541083109920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/induction-day-mk-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8249213541083109920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8249213541083109920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/induction-day-mk-1.html' title='Induction Day mk. 1'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-6836024673197812230</id><published>2010-09-18T10:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-18T10:21:44.311+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mendip</title><content type='html'>So here I am lying in my new bed in halls.&lt;br /&gt;All is great.&lt;br /&gt;It is weird to know I wont be going home for a long time, and even then I will be coming back to live at uni.&lt;br /&gt;But it it nice being here. A long time coming. Walking round Taunton I felt at home in some way.&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking forward to Monday, meeting more people and maybe starting some work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-6836024673197812230?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/6836024673197812230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/mendip.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/6836024673197812230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/6836024673197812230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/mendip.html' title='Mendip'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-5364814357255378792</id><published>2010-09-16T21:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T21:27:46.339+01:00</updated><title type='text'>See you soon Buxton.</title><content type='html'>I am really emotional right now. I have not cried, but I think I might. Even laughter could throw me into tears.&lt;br /&gt;I'm leaving tomorrow, I want to go and I have wanted it for so long now. But I am leaving people behind and it makes me sad to see how much I mean to each of them.&lt;br /&gt;My brother for one, he has been really cute the past few days as he has known I am leaving. I have just given him my Spider-Man comic and my Transformers poster, as I thought, he loved them.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to give them to him though because I paused and thought about when I was young and how I loved getting things passed down to me from people I looked up to. This is something I always forget because I probably don't think as highly as I should of myself and I forget that I am looked up to be some, and loved by plenty.&lt;br /&gt;I think of myself as an individual too much as well which does not help in such a situation, we're not as independent and individual as we think as we are all so intertwined into one and others life's.&lt;br /&gt;Yet I cannot wait until I am in my tiny room unpacking all the crap I probably didn't need to pack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now going to enjoy the home comfort of hot milk, cookies and The OC while tucked up in bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-5364814357255378792?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/5364814357255378792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/see-you-soon-buxton.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5364814357255378792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5364814357255378792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/see-you-soon-buxton.html' title='See you soon Buxton.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-520448709853196037</id><published>2010-09-15T20:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T20:27:22.276+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A room full of dust and a broom to sweep up.</title><content type='html'>Being nonchalant about packing has paid off, but only just.&lt;br /&gt;I started the day in true Dan fashion with The Omen, then I thought about packing.&lt;br /&gt;Started with clearing my walls. Half a day later I had done that.&lt;br /&gt;Emptied yet another bin bag full of rubbish from my room, and I have no idea where I found it all as my room is tiny.&lt;br /&gt;Clothes are now packed too, two Ikea bags and a bin bag. I am beginning to worry that all this wont fit in a Micra.&lt;br /&gt;At first I thought they would as I just had four big boxes, then I forgot to included clothes, guitar, bedding, etc.&lt;br /&gt;It'll fit.&lt;br /&gt;Now I just have a few corners here and there to finish tomorrow, such as baking an apple pie.&lt;br /&gt;I think I shall start tomorrow with a long bath because who knows when I will next enjoy one. I need to henna my hair tonight too, just waiting for it to dry. I best avoid the giant scab too from where I head butted something hard. That reminds me, I must cut down on my drinks.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, and tomorrow I definitely need to finish my painting so she can dry and be packed. That'll be piss as she just needs her hair.&lt;br /&gt;I'm racking my brain to make sure I haven't forgotten anything, but nothing is coming to mind. I'm confident I have all the big important stuff and I'll probably get there and find I forgot a pencil sharpener or guitar tuner.&lt;br /&gt;I just haven't heard from student finance yet, nor have I rang them. Tomorrow. It's just slow as my mum didn't have a certain piece of paper. But it's not like I am poor and am in dire need for it if it's a few days late.&lt;br /&gt;And yeah, I have decided to be vain and untag a shit load of photos on Facebook before I go to uni, can't have them seeing some of those.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dreams recently have been extraordinary. And I also lie awake for a good while in bed laughing and laughing and laughing. This is obviously a good point in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-520448709853196037?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/520448709853196037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/room-full-of-dust-and-broom-to-sweep-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/520448709853196037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/520448709853196037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/room-full-of-dust-and-broom-to-sweep-up.html' title='A room full of dust and a broom to sweep up.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-7707884045925875108</id><published>2010-09-14T21:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T21:10:24.376+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thai Green Curry of Awesomeness.</title><content type='html'>Good day, good day.&lt;br /&gt;Began with paint and recipe research, then list making.&lt;br /&gt;Shop in Morrisons. I always avoid looking at Oven Fresh incase anyone is there, not because I don't want to see them, I just want to see them at Christmas and not now because I feel bad for leaving them a bit high and dry and here I am still.&lt;br /&gt;From getting back I spent all afternoon in the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;Started with sticky chocolate pecan pie. Prepped my crab cakes. Made a thai green curry paste from scratch.&lt;br /&gt;Then I butchered an entire chicken after seeing it on Masterchef and having the urge to do it. I will say I did a fine job of it too, not an ounce of meat left on the bone.&lt;br /&gt;After that it was just putting together the green curry and making kung po chicken. Oh, and splitting two coconuts which was awkward.&lt;br /&gt;I was busy from getting in, until finally sitting down. And I loved it.&lt;br /&gt;We got some jasmine rice too, which I thought was expensive, then I tasted it and saw exactly why it was priced that way.&lt;br /&gt;I was worried about cooking for Ray because he is a very picky eater, but I hit his pallet perfectly. He gave me the greatest compliment of the evening, but it was just the way he ate everything and then some more. Top of the world, I am.&lt;br /&gt;Ray is top man, I remember when I first met him and he taught me loads of history and tonight I was watching him do similar with Curtis. Heartwarming.&lt;br /&gt;Then of course spending time with my Gran was great.&lt;br /&gt;And another thing that was great was my thai green curry. I will honestly say that it is the best thing I have ever cooked. It was beautifully fresh and fragrant, but what else would you expect when everything I bought was fresh and fragrant, even down to the lemon grass.&lt;br /&gt;The kung po was lovely and sticky, but not a patch on the other.&lt;br /&gt;Crab cakes were lush, but I still don't know how the Thai in town make theirs, just like I can't make tofu soak up curry like they do. I have time to work it out.&lt;br /&gt;The pecan pie was a beautiful success.&lt;br /&gt;Happy times. And with being busy all day I totally forgot to have breakfast and dinner so I was totally ready for it.&lt;br /&gt;I want to eat that green curry forever it was so good.&lt;br /&gt;I'll have to do it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just need to pack. I shall do that tomorrow. Sort out my clothes and organise a few bits to where for the next couple of days. I already know what to wear when I go down to Somerset, I have known for well over a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, I love Lembit Opik. He is so lovable but I can't put my tongue on the reason.&lt;br /&gt;And I love Gordon Ramsey, he is on tv now so you are being replaced.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-7707884045925875108?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/7707884045925875108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/thai-green-curry-of-awesomeness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7707884045925875108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7707884045925875108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/thai-green-curry-of-awesomeness.html' title='Thai Green Curry of Awesomeness.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-3681185418415108752</id><published>2010-09-13T16:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T16:17:27.373+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Closure.</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;So basically I have said goodbye to her without even saying goodbye, seems worthy to such a bitch if you ask me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Dan Roberts, December 2009.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;I am hilarious. I have so many gems like this one.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This stems from me reading my old blog entries last night. Why? I do not know.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Maybe because I am leaving soon I was feeling sentimental and nostalgic. Whatever the reason is I am glad I did it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I thought I hadn't changed much this year because when I look back on it, I have worked at Morrisons and that's about it. But then reading my first few entires and my plans for this year, they are worlds apart. This year I was going to save money and work out what to do with my life, then at probably this time now I would be applying to my decided course.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Well, I was shocked. Things are more different than I imagined, however, as a person I have remained pretty constant. I have gained friends, life experience, but as for my life, it's been in a rut really. But a beautiful rut of self expression and exploration.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The 28th of January, 2010, that has been a life altering day to say the least. That was when I decided to go for make up and also when I found out Third Eye Blind were coming to London.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;But as I said, in the way of personal growth, not much has happened. I can safely say that the reason for that is because I am now an adult. No more leaving behind childish ways because I have done all that, no, personal growth from now on will be slow and steady.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;All this nostalgia then led me to looking at my journal from last year. Wow.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Not only is it huge, they could easily be 200,000 words, maybe even close to 250,000, but the persona of it is one I forgot about. The first quarter is just general documenting of days, then it grows slightly when I dipped my toe into the sea of heartbreak.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Then the other three quarters is post breakup Dan.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I am eternally grateful that I didn't throw it all away in some melodramatic fit of rage. The entire result of writing down a year is beautiful, I was so up inside my head that had I been egotistical, I would of fancied myself.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And that is why these days I can just think freely, my mind understands everything that is inside it and then articulate this into appropriate feelings and responses. It's wonderful.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;But better still, I have been so caught up with my life and future that I have left behind all of last year and moved on without realising.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I had wondered how I would move on because the second half of last year I thought about one person and that was it, then this leeched into the start of this year despite my attempts of leaving it all behind with the symbolic twelves strikes of midnight 2009.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;But I am trying to think of when I stopped thinking about this said person, and nothing stands out. It is like falling asleep, you think about sleep and when it will arrive, but then it just happens and you are none the wiser of it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;It is a fresh and invigorating feeling and I am glad that I have brought my attention to the lack of attention I have had for however long.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Closure is a natural thing, the door just closes slowly until you don't hear it click shut. Then with reading my past last night I was laughing at what I was saying, then at some points a heartstring would be plucked and I would smile, but everything was like water on a ducks back as it just fell away and was replaced with the next passing feeling. How very buddhist of me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And healthy, I think, because I don't feel like I have opened that door of closure, nope, in fact I feel I have now locked that door.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I feel like I have shed a skin because I feel really fresh and new.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Tonight I have double booked myself, it's nice to be in such demand. I have pizza to go eat, then takeaway and films at someone's house. I don't really want to do either because I am cold and just want to wrap up in bed with The OC.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;However, I know that once I am warm and have watched four episodes I will start to get restless, I will then walk around the house until I find nothing to do, come upstairs and watch a few more episodes until I get bored again, and then with nothing left to do I will just go to sleep.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And, you know, this could be the last night I see my friend until Christmas so I should definitely show my handsome face.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I came up to pack, but jumped into this instead, and now it id getting on to a time where I should start to get ready. I should be able to sort through some draws before showering.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-3681185418415108752?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/3681185418415108752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/closure.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3681185418415108752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3681185418415108752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/closure.html' title='Closure.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-8587661835118119459</id><published>2010-09-12T22:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T22:49:07.938+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The South will rise again!</title><content type='html'>Over a year ago I was in this same position. The position of being woken up in the early hours of the morning with probably the most agonising pain in the world.&lt;br /&gt;Last time it happened I couldn't move my arms for hours without whimpering, this time it was just the wrists and hip.&lt;br /&gt;Got to jump the gun this time though, and pounded the painkillers, those massive horse tranquilizer sized ones. The box says take one every so many hours, do not exceed three in twenty-four hours. There were none left after two hours, although I did only have half a pack left which would of been around five.&lt;br /&gt;My kidneys don't hurt and I am not pissing blood, so I can safely say that I am fine, and they worked because I managed to get more sleep.&lt;br /&gt;My right hand now works fine, just a slight residual ache.&lt;br /&gt;The left is still a bitch. Not as bad as I can leave it sat still and it is unnoticeable but the odd movement will send that sharp intense pain to the pit of my stomach where I want to throw up.&lt;br /&gt;Probably the kind of thing I should see a doctor about, but last time I put them down to growing pains, only uber, intense, makes me want to cry growing pains. Still, that time I manned up and put a tent up, extremely manly.&lt;br /&gt;I can't see anything physically wrong, and there is nothing that could of caused it so again I wonder if they are just late, and hardcore, growing pains.&lt;br /&gt;If it happens again I will go to a doctor, and chances are it will happen again because my Gran had the same kind of thing until her mid-twenties - yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/TI1KmkK291I/AAAAAAAAAFY/viC9bGL0sK8/s1600/DSCN0495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/TI1KmkK291I/AAAAAAAAAFY/viC9bGL0sK8/s320/DSCN0495.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But teeth-grinding pain aside, today has been excellent. I went to see a American Civil War history and reenactment thing. I loved it.&lt;br /&gt;It was just like my childhood when I spent days with my Gran down at the cowboy park. That was when I first met Ray and spend an afternoon with him as he showed me all sorts. And now here we all are years later.&lt;br /&gt;I got to play with my camera too, I still love the thing.&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, I miss the cowboy park, and it is shut down too which makes me all the sadder. Still, I am glad I have great stories I can forever tell which include cowboys, campfires and banjos. Learning how to shoot an air rifle. Getting a bit worse for wear in a saloon. Sleeping above a Sheriff's Office watching CSI and reading pagan books. And exploring undergrowth with a six-shooter on my belt.&lt;br /&gt;I am privileged.&lt;br /&gt;Except the lack of painkillers. How I wish I hadn't eaten them all because now I am starting to hurt again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-8587661835118119459?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/8587661835118119459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/south-will-rise-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8587661835118119459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8587661835118119459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/south-will-rise-again.html' title='The South will rise again!'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/TI1KmkK291I/AAAAAAAAAFY/viC9bGL0sK8/s72-c/DSCN0495.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-4849839834711552654</id><published>2010-09-10T00:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T00:43:44.441+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I need to see in an x-ray style.</title><content type='html'>Tonight has been an excellent night. Chinese, always a winner.&lt;br /&gt;Well, not always, but I have been craving a proper Chinese since coming back from Greece but I have had a month of curries more or less.&lt;br /&gt;Nope, tonight was a welcome change, chopsticks and flavoursome goodness.&lt;br /&gt;And it is the last night Bev and myself will spend together until Christmas probably.&lt;br /&gt;It is a little sad but I can't help but feel aware that all these goodbyes are slightly awkward because in just two and a half months I will be home for Christmas, and that is a tiny percentage of a year.&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I shall be in awe of the good times to come.&lt;br /&gt;That said, I shall miss Beverly a great deal. We are the same, but different. We say that one often. We can also finish each others sentences and have our own language that no one else can translate. And we have our friendship bracelets, not proper gay ones, I bought some bracelets a couple of months ago and I got two with big, round, wooden beads on and so now Bev and I have one each. I love that.&lt;br /&gt;Almost as much as I love this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AE0E2v6fCKA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AE0E2v6fCKA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past week has involved a lot of Strummer with the sewing of my jacket and such. I listen to his music all the time, The Clash and the Mescaleros are always in my Recently Played. He makes me feel like myself, and makes me have a sense of belonging.&lt;br /&gt;I really cannot articulate how important he is to me. And my heart breaks whenever I think about how I never saw him, and I think that for my entire life I will have that hole. Yet that is a cross I will be happy to bear as it will forever make me aware of my love for him.&lt;br /&gt;He is my hero, my father figure, my everything really.&lt;br /&gt;Another reason why I have been thinking of him recently too is probably because I have been thinking about Christmas. I rarely feel Christmassy as it is, I have grown older and I haven't ever had someone special to buy gifts for, but the massive factor is that Christmas is the time for the anniversary of Joe's death. Dying at fifty, to say I am not welling up with tears right now would be lying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this links to another father figure, or lack there off.&lt;br /&gt;My dad emailed me today. It was an awkward email for he doesn't do that kind of thing, and he is just a generally awkward being.&lt;br /&gt;Really, I wonder why I attract such socially awkward people in my life, people who just have no idea how to live a life with meaning and reward. It's not like I am like these terrible people, I know this because I had a great time at the bank today. I was apprehensive to say the least and was tempted to not go as it had started to rain. But ten minutes later the rain had cleared and this was just a sign of things to come.&lt;br /&gt;Got everything sorted at the bank, but what was amazing was how I just kept talking. Just the other day I had been thinking how I don't function to well as a whole, like say if someone compliments me I will thank them but not return it, and I wont show affection and warmth when being introduced, but the first thing I did at the bank was shake hands and say "nice to meet you" before I knew what my hands and mouth were doing. I was seriously proud of myself.&lt;br /&gt;The shape of things to come, I hope.&lt;br /&gt;Back on track though, email off dad. I feel for him sometimes because I know it must be hard for him as he must be aware of my lack of enthusiasm and as well, I am not his blood.&lt;br /&gt;But even though I can see why it can be hard, I don't understand. I don't understand people as a whole, their mannerisms and outlooks, or in this case I can't understand why my dad lives the way he does. Enclosed, empty, angry and no strive or want to do anything.&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, it's not my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is it, more or less, yet before I leave I must say how much I love my friends even though none of them will read it, let alone anyone for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;I really do mean it though, they are excellent. They are real friends too, unlike all the rest I left behind when I left sixth form. I still feel like I am in debt with them though for all that happened last year. Was it last year? I can't remember as it all feels so alien, but whenever the awful happened, I still feel like I owe more than I can repay to my friends. It is a testament to them, that even though I hid away, had my views poisoned and just didn't treat them as friends; they are still here to this day, welcoming me as ever. For that I love them.&lt;br /&gt;Nearly twenty years in the making, but now, I truly am Dan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-4849839834711552654?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/4849839834711552654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-need-to-see-in-x-ray-style.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4849839834711552654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4849839834711552654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-need-to-see-in-x-ray-style.html' title='I need to see in an x-ray style.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-2231838017134055217</id><published>2010-09-05T23:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T23:55:12.345+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Denim jacket.</title><content type='html'>Today has been a textbook Sunday, and it has been unbearable.&lt;br /&gt;I woke up in a most peculiar state. I didn't know which way was up or who I was, four minutes seemed to last two hours and it felt like I had fallen asleep and woken up two hundred times. Until I put my iPod on and fell back to sleep for a few hours.&lt;br /&gt;The day has dragged on and on. Watched the last Long Way Down, emotional times.&lt;br /&gt;Dexter is still great, but I am gutted that I have Dexter, then starting tomorrow is new Mythbusters and then the week after is new Deadliest Catch. I might not go to university.&lt;br /&gt;But that is probably why today has been even more boring than any other Sunday, I have most things packed and I am on the metaphorical blocks waiting for that metaphorical starting pistol of Friday the seventeenth. I have decided that I shall take a pie as a flat warming gift.&lt;br /&gt;Though today I worried about being with a load of boys. I have good male friends, but I don't think I could live with a load of them.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if it is the fact I was brought up by girls that has made me this way inclined, or that because I know I was brought up by girls that I think this is what I want. Whatever the input, the output is unchanged.&lt;br /&gt;I nearly got to a million on Bejeweled 2, I think this was the highlight of the day.&lt;br /&gt;Although it was fun because I was on one game for an entire Goo Goo Dolls album, so I made the most of the empty house. Well, I'd still of sang every song in company.&lt;br /&gt;Got some OC watched, watched the end of Transformers which truly is an amazing cinematic experience. They should make a 3D one, or re-release the first one in IMAX 3D.&lt;br /&gt;And I watched Bug too, a nice plummet into insanity of a film.&lt;br /&gt;So really, my entire day has just been watching stuff.&lt;br /&gt;Though I did paint while watching a documentary. It's really coming on. I did an eye today, and already it has put depth into the face. I really like how it looks, and best of all, I can see myself in it.&lt;br /&gt;There might even be some skill in it too, like a pinch of salts worth in a ragu sauce.&lt;br /&gt;Seamlessly from ragu to Gordon Ramsey. I watched him too, and how I love him. I lay there thinking even after my degree, I might just work in a kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;It is the one job I want to do, if just for a short time. I can cook, and the meal I made last night for myself I will arrogantly say I can fucking cook, but I want to learn how they time everything and cook several orders and courses in such a smooth manner.&lt;br /&gt;And I still want to own my beautiful bar/cafe/restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;I want to go to Somerset now. Tomorrow I shall look in town for a pair of trousers because I feel like I am always wearing the same pair. Tuesday? Pretty sure I am going camping, so that will kill Wednesday nicely. Thursday I have to go to the bank, but as I wont be buying shit I'm pretty sure it is going to last all of thirty seconds, so with the rest of that day I should jump into paint.&lt;br /&gt;Friday? Chances are I will be out somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;The weekend? It will be the last time to see my dad before I go down south as he is working away and said nothing about coming to visit me. But that suits me perfectly, it's just going to be more awkward than now as I will have to talk on the phone more often. Since I was eight we have the same teeth extracting phone conversations. I can't wait until I am living on my own two feet in five years time or whatever, but I always think about how awkward it will be with my dad as I cannot see some major breakthrough in our relationship ever occurring.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, next Monday I shall probably be packing more things and organising some clothes. Tuesday will be food shopping and preparing and eventually cooking as my Gran and Ray our coming over for a big meal to wish me off. To be honest, I think I am more excited about that than starting my course.&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday will be the last of packing as Thursday will be sleeping day as I have to be up at three or four in the morning, which is nothing to a seasoned pro as myself. But why so early, you ask. The intake day is from ten 'til three, so we are aiming to get there early and it's a good four/five hour drive depending. I would say that I would sleep in the car with my glorious memory foam pillow, but I know I wont. I'll get up in the middle of the night, have a coffee, sing to my iPod in the car until we stop for more coffee and pissing, then once I have finished blowing and sipping my coffee the singing will continue.&lt;br /&gt;Wow, there is practically no time left at all.&lt;br /&gt;I love change!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah, the denim jacket that I have had in my wardrobe since I was five, I took it out today and I shall begin to wear it. I think it was my Aunts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-2231838017134055217?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/2231838017134055217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/denim-jacket.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2231838017134055217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2231838017134055217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/denim-jacket.html' title='Denim jacket.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-3433872385333151988</id><published>2010-09-03T22:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T22:35:51.625+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello Nikon.</title><content type='html'>It arrived today, less than twenty four hours after ordering it, talk about customer satisfaction.&lt;br /&gt;I've been playing with it all day, messing with shutter speed and aperture and taking photos of nothing of interest. And taking photos at night is going to be one hell of a treat.&lt;br /&gt;He's beautiful, I think I'm going to get awfully sentimental about my camera as the days, months and hopefully years go by.&lt;br /&gt;I am picturing myself with it in New York.&lt;br /&gt;Ahh, all these years without a camera has definitely made this all the more worthwhile. And it would seem that the universe is shining on me as my dad gave me £150 and I can claim about £250 tax back so even after all this I am going to be up.&lt;br /&gt;Not that money matters, or that I care for it, but I can't pretend I don't need it when I am going to university in a matter of weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/TIFp1_ez5jI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/VkdwLG52HTo/s1600/DSCN0170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/TIFp1_ez5jI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/VkdwLG52HTo/s320/DSCN0170.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;My first mirror shot, how wonderful. With my claw like hands.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-3433872385333151988?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/3433872385333151988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/hello-nikon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3433872385333151988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3433872385333151988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/hello-nikon.html' title='Hello Nikon.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/TIFp1_ez5jI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/VkdwLG52HTo/s72-c/DSCN0170.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-264190636671203667</id><published>2010-09-02T23:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T23:55:02.802+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Impression &amp; expression.</title><content type='html'>Vinyan, what a beautiful film. Every shot was to die for, rich browns, golden browns and then the only contrast being the guys red shirt. I don't think I have ever seen such a good looking film. And content wise it was excellent, ambiguous and reminded me of early expressionistic horror films.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dreadcentral.com/img/reviews/vinyan2b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="168" src="http://www.dreadcentral.com/img/reviews/vinyan2b.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Finally got my Euros changed to real money again, sent some to Pakistan because I'm a wonderful person and then banked the rest, where I accidently agreed to going in next week for an annual review. I can get my student account sorted at least.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;That money I put in lasted all of a few hours as I came home and ordered some modelling tools, The OC season four and a camera. I've never really wanted a camera as I didn't want to be the one behind it all the time, but recently I have wanted one of my own. This morning I was looking at a Nikon P100, this afternoon I had ordered one. All £277 of new excitingness.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Oh, and I got some painting done out in the sun, while singing my heart out to some Guns N' Roses. I'm sure the neighbours loved it, because who wouldn't?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;You know, I think I have wanted a Nikon since The Lost World because Nick had one, and I wanted to be Nick so badly. I even pretended my name was Nick for a good couple of years.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;And I was only listening to Guns N' Roses today because I was wearing a Guns N' Roses tshirt.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I am not at all impressionable in any shape or form.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Fifteen days to go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-264190636671203667?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/264190636671203667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/impression-expression.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/264190636671203667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/264190636671203667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/impression-expression.html' title='Impression &amp; expression.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-5055729422308958823</id><published>2010-09-01T23:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T23:05:48.907+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Headache</title><content type='html'>I want to live in the flat off Shallow Grave. Except without the murder, money, greed and the literal and metaphorical backstabbing. &lt;br /&gt;Excellent film. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ikea was fun. Got loads, and more importantly I got myself a really good knife and a mortar and pestle. Priorities. &lt;br /&gt;It's almost two weeks until I leave. I'm trying hard not to pack everything because I kind of need most the things I will be taking, but my stomach is filled with to much excitment and I can't help myself. &lt;br /&gt;I think I will go through my books once more to try and condense them further. &lt;br /&gt;I'm swollen with swellness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-5055729422308958823?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/5055729422308958823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/headache.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5055729422308958823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5055729422308958823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/09/headache.html' title='Headache'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-2375684529635233963</id><published>2010-08-31T00:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T00:41:27.984+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Get you finger out!</title><content type='html'>Gosh, why do I feel so much empathy of late? Everything I watch makes me feel sad, Paradise Lost included.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here's a nugget of information about my life to enlighten you with. I thought I was picking a load of latex of my skin earlier. Turned out to be my skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/THxBmqmIqvI/AAAAAAAAAFA/-tQfl5MA4M0/s1600/100_0965.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/THxBmqmIqvI/AAAAAAAAAFA/-tQfl5MA4M0/s400/100_0965.JPG" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-2375684529635233963?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/2375684529635233963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/get-you-finger-out.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2375684529635233963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2375684529635233963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/get-you-finger-out.html' title='Get you finger out!'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/THxBmqmIqvI/AAAAAAAAAFA/-tQfl5MA4M0/s72-c/100_0965.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-4406964800369380314</id><published>2010-08-29T22:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-29T22:30:58.108+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Venus Project</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thezeitgeistmovement.com/wiki/images/b/ba/The_Venus_Project_by_SmokesQuantity.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.thezeitgeistmovement.com/wiki/images/b/ba/The_Venus_Project_by_SmokesQuantity.jpg" width="246" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I watched Zeitgeist Addendum the other night. Like with most things these days, I cried. The world is more awful than I thought. Money is evil, and makes no sense. Money is debt, debt is money and there will never be enough money to pay the debt because of interest. Create more money to pay the interest means you're creating more debt which more interest will grow upon. A truly wonderful perpetual cycle.&lt;br /&gt;The monetary system is bad, a resource based economy is the way forward. We may realise this soon because the money/debt issue leads to bankruptcy all the time, and the US may go bankrupt within the decade. In a sadistic and selfish way, I hope it does because I have always wanted some grand occurrence during my life time. It could be the key to a revolution, a way of life like the Venus Project.&lt;br /&gt;A boy can only dream.&lt;br /&gt;This was the problem, I feel like I can only dream. I feel like I have no voice in the matter. I feel so powerless against the huge machines. But, I say to myself, I am young. I have time to at least make my voice heard even if it is to just one other person. Or find somewhere with many like me, and feel like a part of a movement.&lt;br /&gt;Failing all this, I can always take solace in the fact that I can see things for what they are. I say it often, and I shall say it again, ignorance is not bliss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking the spotlight away from the turmoil of my soul, my room appears tidy. It's not, but it seems organised, giving the illusion of tidy. I started to gather stuff for my ever approaching move. I boxed up my books, I need another box for my graphic novels (because I am that cool) and then I alphabetized my dvds. Three foot of neatly organised dvds making my room look orderly.&lt;br /&gt;Gutted under my bed, truly awful job. Threw out several bags of crap and now I need to go to Ikea. I am awfully excited, however I got my first sinking feeling of worry the other day, the old what if I get stuck with shit people. That passed, I can't wait to go. Talk to new people and get to know all about them. And after a year with me, one of them is bound to like Third Eye Blind/Firefly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-4406964800369380314?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/4406964800369380314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/venus-project.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4406964800369380314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4406964800369380314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/venus-project.html' title='The Venus Project'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-7485892842362205079</id><published>2010-08-27T18:28:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T18:28:45.975+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Recognition!</title><content type='html'>It's all I ever need. Not in a direct way, just to see the effects and know that I am the reason. I don't need the person to know that I am the reason, I can remain anonymous, all I need to see is the effect.&lt;br /&gt;I talk about this because now that I am off the blood donor list (*sobs*) I got a certificate. I have many certificates, but this is probably the first one I have been happy to receive.&lt;br /&gt;Got my student finance stuff too, but that is less important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I shall head upstairs, crank up the tunes and play with make up. I did some today, see:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/THfx02y_bYI/AAAAAAAAAE4/SdgfvtQ9GPA/s1600/100_0937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/THfx02y_bYI/AAAAAAAAAE4/SdgfvtQ9GPA/s320/100_0937.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I tried doing a bite wound a month or two back and the phrase 'epic fail' was invented just for that outcome. My only qualms with this one is it's too shiny, as once again I forgot to talc it, despite thinking about how I always forget to talc everything. Oh well. But on the plus, Vaseline. I used to use moisturiser to soften the wax but that made it slimy and near impossible to work with, but I read that Vaseline also works and like a big fucking charm it works. No swearing, stabbing or hating. Cool, uninterrupted good times.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;So yes, with todays good fortune under belt I shall go let the good times continue. And have a few tinnies too. Probably watch Zeitgeist tonight as I didn't last nigh, The Mexican was too good to resist.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I've been looking at Anarchism, freedom fighting and the likes tonight.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Ahh, life is swell for me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;My mother on the other hand...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;She drinks as it is, but my word she is fucking out of it tonight. I question where my tequila is.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;All courtesy of marriage.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I could say something, but there is nothing to say. I am rarely the shoulder to cry on with my cold heart.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-7485892842362205079?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/7485892842362205079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/recognition.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7485892842362205079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7485892842362205079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/recognition.html' title='Recognition!'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/THfx02y_bYI/AAAAAAAAAE4/SdgfvtQ9GPA/s72-c/100_0937.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-33319213129105077</id><published>2010-08-26T21:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T21:35:47.184+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The fears of a delusional mind.</title><content type='html'>I'm really quite emotional, teetering towards sad.&lt;br /&gt;I just watched DIY SOS, a great show but that was to be expected. It was just emotional, so much crying and happiness.&lt;br /&gt;However, as always, I got thinking. I got thinking about how sad the world must be to warrant such a reaction to the kindness of heart. Breaking down in tears just because someone has been good towards you for no fee at all. Money doesn't make the world go round, we just think it does. People can be kind towards each other just to feel the warmth of goodness, rather than a fat wallet in their pocket.&lt;br /&gt;It was inspiring, to see good people as I am such a cynic when it comes to my world view.&lt;br /&gt;But fuck me, must every thought I have be the spanner in the works of my life plan? There is no way that I could build myself four walls, and live within them with a wonderful and beautiful family. I could lose myself in that life though, but I know that I would awake one day to see that I hadn't given anything to the world and revolt.&lt;br /&gt;No, no. I can't plan my life. I will go to uni, be awesome and take it all in. Afterwards I shall see where I stand, and where I can go. Hopefully I shall balance my life by doing what I find fun to pass the time and also cram in some soulful activities. Make a difference somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to write songs, and get them heard and for people to act upon them. I'd like to paint a picture that stops the world in it's tracks and causes it to think for just a minute.&lt;br /&gt;I want people to see and think like me, for if we all did we would live in the most wonderful world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet this is far from the case. The world is only getting darker. Contactless technology; clever stuff, hey? Sure, but it would seem that in our life time not only do they wish to make cheques redundant, they also wish to make cash redundant. Yeah, it's not a terrible thing is it. Without physical cash crime is surely going to take a hit, and no need to print it in the first place so the planet is pretty pleased too.&lt;br /&gt;Passports have chips in these days, and if your finances are on a chip too then it is just a matter of time before the two are one. Your entire identity and wealth in the palm of your hand.&lt;br /&gt;So why not throw in a tracking device? Or if you don't abide by the law, they just delete all the money on your chip. How about a lovely big brother type state?&lt;br /&gt;New World Order. That is where it is all heading. One government and one state, no one left to rage war with at least but first you must conquer the earth. Then having one entity in power of the entire planet, fucking scary shit right there.&lt;br /&gt;Nope, give me a world with diversity, culture and openness. Freedom, the ability to disappear and to have an identity that is more than a chip. A world governed by the kindness of heart.&lt;br /&gt;Call me paranoid and call me crazy. Maybe I am, maybe this will never happen but I can't help but fear it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-33319213129105077?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/33319213129105077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/fears-of-delusional-mind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/33319213129105077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/33319213129105077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/fears-of-delusional-mind.html' title='The fears of a delusional mind.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-3643295012850718453</id><published>2010-08-25T09:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T09:27:46.235+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Like a fish...</title><content type='html'>...I am gutted!&lt;br /&gt;Truly, truly gutted.&lt;br /&gt;I went to give blood yesterday, it was my second time. My first time lasted but minutes because my nerves got the better of me and I got all light headed. But I thought this time would be fine because I felt fine, I wasn't nervous and I had eaten plenty of food and drinks and pounded my body with sugar to counter all the effects. And everything was going fine, until something went wrong with the cradle that the blood sits in. I think that was the problem because a nurse was messing with it, then asked for help and I started to get foggy here. Because I couldn't see the problem I then pictured myself bleeding all over the floor and imagining a pint sized puddle of blood, it's not a small thing.&lt;br /&gt;I thought I could fight it and I told them I was fine, but the sweat on my brow told a different story.&lt;br /&gt;Tragic. And I was so close to the full pint of blood too.&lt;br /&gt;I like being a minority, but I don't want to be in this one. The one where 2% of people who give blood, their body can't adapt quickly enough the the sudden blood loss. It blows.&lt;br /&gt;But I had a great chat with a few nurses, talking about loads of things like holidays, university, life and other such things. Two were red heads, and they talked to me as if I was one of their own, excellent stuff.&lt;br /&gt;We talked about blood too. How I had done everything right with eating and drinking and all that, and that being young may be the problem. Body still undergoing changes and all that jazz. I'm advised to try again in a few years, or whenever I feel up to it, and I have until I am seventy.&lt;br /&gt;I'm assured there is no rush, but I want to do this so badly. I want nothing more to help others. Just like when I see a fire truck or something, the urge to have a job like that is a strong one. It's not as selfless as one would think because I think some of it is selfishness too, I want to be seen as a hero, I want to be the face that the person sees on the worst day of their life.&lt;br /&gt;But alas, I cannot save lives with my blood.&lt;br /&gt;A real shame, and the nurses agree. They weren't pissy this time, they were proud of me for trying again and not just thinking it wasn't for me. And there is still time and hope.&lt;br /&gt;If not, it's going to suck to have a head that can give blood but a body that cannot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family is all back. As I thought, I am glad to have life in the house but I am annoyed that I can't just roll out of bed and put a horror on.&lt;br /&gt;To celebrate the end of the holiday we went out for a curry. Not wise since they owe me two hundred pounds as they ran out of cash and I had to bail them out, once again. I have lost count of the time I have borrowed them money, I'm sure the roles here have been reversed.&lt;br /&gt;Curry though, I wasn't feeling it. I have had six in the last seven days: two pasanders, beef curry, vegetable balti, mexican curry and last nights garlic chili.&lt;br /&gt;What can I say, I love the spicy food and it's all I wanted after Greece as their food may be great but it has no heat.&lt;br /&gt;The beer almost killed me though, I thought that maybe having 10% less blood would make getting pissed 10% easier, but it would seem it is more exponential, which makes sense thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;Then I had tooth ache which means I may get a wisdom tooth in the next few years. So obviously I ate a bag of Haribo, the clever thing to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-3643295012850718453?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/3643295012850718453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/like-fish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3643295012850718453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3643295012850718453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/like-fish.html' title='Like a fish...'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-6723758619803727576</id><published>2010-08-23T20:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T20:15:34.499+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, Ewan, where art thou?</title><content type='html'>My last evening on my own. The family returns tonight in the wee hours. It'll be nice to have a house with life in, but I will miss the freedom of walking around naked and the other things I take advantage of with no company.&lt;br /&gt;I'm stuck with what to do and this is why I am here talking about nothing. I'd like to read but reading in a cold, empty and quiet house is not a uplifting experience. I'd be watching Long Way Down but alas, WHSmiths did not have it for like the first time ever! Denied. Tragedy.&lt;br /&gt;It's on NatGeo at the moment so not all is lost, I'll just have to watch them over ten days instead of one long and beautiful night with Ewan McGregor.&lt;br /&gt;I could watch The OC but I think I want to avoid it because I know as soon as it goes on that will be my entire night gone.&lt;br /&gt;Would it be so bad though? I mean, I have done a canvas today, the breast cancer one I felt I needed to do. However it did not blow the lid of what could of been repressed emotions, which I am guessing (and hoping) means I don't have any. The painting came out really well, I think. How I envisioned at least and it took just ten minutes, kept it simple and was confident with brush strokes. Very pleasing experience.&lt;br /&gt;Did a bit more on the cowboy one, but I got bored and it wasn't going too well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Horror? I have many to watch but again I just don't know what to do with myself. I'd like to just sit here all night and talk to someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now we can scratch all that because Bev has turned up. Sweet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-6723758619803727576?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/6723758619803727576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/oh-ewan-where-art-thou.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/6723758619803727576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/6723758619803727576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/oh-ewan-where-art-thou.html' title='Oh, Ewan, where art thou?'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-7337117679726569869</id><published>2010-08-22T19:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T19:10:22.184+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The curse of Cuervo.</title><content type='html'>Fuck.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if I have ever drank more than I drank last night. Fucking tequila!&lt;br /&gt;I was a riot, I had an audience and I made the most of it. I rapped to Eminem, Busted's version of Where is the Love, A Perfect Blend (the awesome Neighbours song) amongst others. Danced my face off, shredded the old voice and just acted like a drunk.&lt;br /&gt;Then it becomes fragmented and dream like and any Dan that remained was pushed away. I hang my head in shame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up this morning still well and truly pissed, head warm and fuzzy and unable to walk straight and still dancing and singing. Tidied up, washed up and made pancakes. I was close to vomit then.&lt;br /&gt;Afternoon in the park, lay in the sun with coffee, muffin and pretzels. This was when the hangover came into effect. It's not a bad one as my head isn't thick with pain, however I feel sick to my core, I'm sweating tequila and I feel all on edge, fidgety and a bit of the shakes maybe. I feel like an alcoholic who's going cold turkey.&lt;br /&gt;I want to die. Blow my brains out with a Beretta. The peace and tranquility of death is more welcoming that it has ever been before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sMADphlSvJo?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sMADphlSvJo?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-7337117679726569869?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/7337117679726569869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/curse-of-cuervo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7337117679726569869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7337117679726569869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/curse-of-cuervo.html' title='The curse of Cuervo.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-7586307526395650313</id><published>2010-08-19T23:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T23:58:19.047+01:00</updated><title type='text'>We no speak Americano</title><content type='html'>Drunk! &lt;br /&gt;I have enjoyed a wide spread of Corona, rose wine, mystery cocktail and Fruli. My belly is full of warmth and happiness. &lt;br /&gt;An excellent night with maybe a tad too much male bonding, but I love it for it is something I rarely get. I love hanging around boys and talking about boy things. &lt;br /&gt;Drama seemed to be brewing towards the end, and by the end I mean my leaving. Nothing changes from school, people running around whispering that so and so said this about so and so. &lt;br /&gt;Nope, sit me with the Cowan and I will be fine without it all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ventured out the house today, I thought about staying in but after watching a film I felt like going out. Got some canvases and brushes and I intend on painting a picture for my Gran. I'm doing this off my own back because I want to, whereas I have been asked to do something for my fake gran but have yet to do something. My family is an odd one, much like everyone elses. &lt;br /&gt;So tomorrow I shall paint. Then maybe pick up some shopping for Saturday night. I'm really excited for it now that I have seen that people are excited for it also, it is bound to be a good night. &lt;br /&gt;Gosh, I wish I weren't so drunk because I feel like staying up and doing something, even if that is just watching another film. &lt;br /&gt;I'll get up early tomorrow and make the most of the day. &lt;br /&gt;And I finally know the name of the song I danced to all last week. Probably the last person in the world to learn the name We No Speak Americano, but I gave up with the radio a while back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wavpWRK6IX8?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_GB"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wavpWRK6IX8?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_GB" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-7586307526395650313?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/7586307526395650313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/we-no-speak-americano.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7586307526395650313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7586307526395650313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/we-no-speak-americano.html' title='We no speak Americano'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-6419310573359774547</id><published>2010-08-18T22:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T22:43:03.924+01:00</updated><title type='text'>It's like a sign!</title><content type='html'>I feel chatty. I'm talking to someone I haven't talked too in far too long, but what is lovely is that despite the vast amount of time between conversation, the freedom and ease of talking hasn't changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up today at two in the afternoon. I do not believe that I have ever slept in so late! A little bit of jet lag, but I was still getting up at lunch time in Greece.&lt;br /&gt;First port of call was a horror. Synder's re-imagining of Dawn of the Dead. I had to up it one of IMDB for it is wonderful. What I thought to be cheesy is more homage to the seventies.&lt;br /&gt;Then I drew, and drew a bit more. The habit of doing so in Greece has followed me home, and I am happy for this.&lt;br /&gt;I am getting better with watercolours, or so I like to think.&lt;br /&gt;Then I made an epic meal for one. Pasander with roti bread.&lt;br /&gt;Watched some Southland with it which gave me my costume for me iParte Mexicana! I shall go as a Mexican gang member as I have the wife beater and I can draw some tattoos and there is no need to get a sombrero or poncho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling awfully content tonight despite my slight emotional episode at the end of Ladder 49 last night.&lt;br /&gt;Not sure what to do with myself tonight though because I sure wont sleep for a while yet. Late to get up and too much coffee. The OC? Another film? I'm spoilt for choice!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-6419310573359774547?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/6419310573359774547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/its-like-sign.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/6419310573359774547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/6419310573359774547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/its-like-sign.html' title='It&apos;s like a sign!'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-8919131834293849191</id><published>2010-08-17T15:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T15:26:43.942+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I saw the oceans daughter.</title><content type='html'>Back in the Bux.&lt;br /&gt;I am quite happy about this, in a way. I felt ready to come home as there isn't so much to do on holiday other than reading, drawing and listening to music.&lt;br /&gt;It was great, lovely and hot and simple and care free. Other than the lack of a room and a bed, which resulted in a painful experience with an ancient, and tiny, camp bed and so I made do with a sofa. Not all bad, I was pissed the first day or two but I had no reason to be as I was just grasping and wants. So I let go and had an excellent time free from resentment.&lt;br /&gt;I'm no good at sun worshipping, I get bored and I don't pretend that I tan. I don't. And plus, I am not insecure about my skin tone. So instead of getting a load of sunbathing done, I got a good deal of drawing done. And my book, Kavalier and Clay, oh how wonderful it is.&lt;br /&gt;I also got my much wanted morning swim in the sea. Not sure what time but I was the only one in the sea let alone the beach. But I didn't spend much time on the beach, though my love for the sea is like no other my dislike towards people is somewhat greater. I couldn't be bothered with all those bodies ruining my sanctuary. I got a couple of mornings to myself, and a fair few nights too. No night swimming for that would of been silly, especially because of all the Long Island Ice Teas I was consuming. One night involved three of them, not to mention all the beer and shots and to top it off the best game of darts ever. &lt;br /&gt;Sadly, the Alobar was not a patch on last time. No music, and it was always dead. Yet the scenery had not changed so it was still beautiful to sit there in a deck chair, over looking the sea with a &amp;nbsp;drink in hand.&lt;br /&gt;Nope, the place to be this year was Robin's Nest. It's run by some woman from Chicago and she's been there since the seventies and it is always fun with the darts, music, dressing up box and it's beautiful bohemian feeling. The bar is inside, and it is just the size of a bar this room. The toilets are just some out building, and everything is outside underneath this gorgeous tree. There is a little bit of a roof in one corner which is just a wooden lean-too. Seats worked into the walls. It's ace. And now there is loads of art on the walls. The cocktails are nothing special, or that could just be because I have been to real cocktail bars with proper barmen.&lt;br /&gt;To some the week up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Drink&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sun&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sea&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pool&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Food&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;More drink&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;More food&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Even more drink&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Little more food&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Reading&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Music&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Drawing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And drink.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Also, popped my karaoke virginity and made a friend on the dance floor.&lt;br /&gt;What was surprising though was my sexual placidity. I thought that with all the almost naked woman around that I would be fit to burst. Not the case at all. It would seem that I am no longer that pit of raging hormones of a teenager anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Another factor was because I just felt lonely, not in a sexual way, in the way of company and the emotional sense. Being surrounded by couples will the the root to that feeling. I only have to wait another month before I move, it's arrogant to think that I will find someone at uni but hey. And there will be people there, and I will fancy them, and I shall do something about that and we can only see what happens there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the worst dream ever while I was away. It truly was.&lt;br /&gt;Basic dream setting, nothing extraordinary, a party of some sort then in some heated passion I killed someone. Everything after that was panic, what was I going to do. Hide the body? Confess? Run away? Kill myself? It felt so real which was awful, I was running around wishing that it was a dream but it didn't feel like a dream and I wouldn't wake up no matter how much I wished it and pinched myself. Finally I took the dead mans car keys and I was going to drive myself off a cliff, then I woke up and I have never been more relieved. A good sign that I probably have good morals somewhere if a dream about killing a man ruined me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in love. I kid you not. On the plane home I was in the aisle seat next to some people I didn't know and in the aisle next to me was this girl. This beautiful, amazing girl. Ciara I think her name was, at least that was the name on the back of her hoody. I didn't even talk to her but she looked like probably the coolest person in the world. I imagine that her personality and character are second to none. Even her feet were the most beautiful I have ever seen. But again, I wanted nothing sexual, I could not taint her beauty by imagining joining the Mile High Club with her. No, I just wanted to sit next to her, be the shoulder her head could sleep on, hold hands and just be there together in a simple embrace of warmth and true love. I don't know if I believe in true love, love at first sight and the one, but I'm not sure if this affinity is because these things are true, or was it just because I was sat next to a uniquely gorgeous girl and I imagined up her perfection and fell in love with that.&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the answer, I know I will be thinking of her for some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing more revitalising that lying down in the sun under a perfectly blue sky and listening to ELO's Mr. Blue Sky. Completely weightless and free, feeling just like the endless blue of Mr. Blue Sky.&lt;br /&gt;However, I think this is more fitting considering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hdRJ3zSZ6vA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hdRJ3zSZ6vA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-8919131834293849191?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/8919131834293849191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-saw-oceans-daughter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8919131834293849191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8919131834293849191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-saw-oceans-daughter.html' title='I saw the oceans daughter.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-4969286562401110589</id><published>2010-08-08T22:54:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T22:55:01.168+01:00</updated><title type='text'>afk</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a twenty something hour day and I felt good. Today I have been up for ten hours and I am cream crackered.&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe I finished work yesterday, it all ready feels like a week has gone by without that place. Probably down to my head being free from thinking of when I am next at work.&lt;br /&gt;And the fact I filled up yesterday afternoon/night with more things than you could think possible.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't get drunk though, crazy, I needed to get money out but I forgot and didn't bother and just spent the night chatting instead. Again, my book is leeching into my everyday life as he stopped getting drunk.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to do that though, pfft.&lt;br /&gt;But what was pleasantly surprising was how I was not pissed off with everyone, as nearly all sober people despise drunk people when thrown together. Nope, fun, lighthearted and great. Lots of mockery too, and the cherry on top was spending a lovely night tending to a much overlooked friendship. It's my fault, and I still feel like I am working off the debts from a year ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I fly away for a week. It is much needed. And I am going to spend it all by the sea.&lt;br /&gt;Picked up that last few bits for it today.&lt;br /&gt;The essential iPod mains charger.&lt;br /&gt;Some teeny tiny watercolour box and to go along with it some watercolour paper. I it was called watercolour postcards for their postcard size, but on the reverse they have it laid out and ready to fill it as a postcard. How quaint!&lt;br /&gt;I won't send any, I just wanted some small paper to capture anything pretty, like a photo only more fun.&lt;br /&gt;Then I got an A5 sketchbook because apparently when I shop for holiday things I buy small things.&lt;br /&gt;I thought about getting more stuff but seems how I had sent off a few order forms for my course which totted up to £800+ I thought I best leave them.&lt;br /&gt;I have to wait until I move down to get them as they are delivered to the college, for the best as it's less to take down and I wont use up everything in an excitable frenzy.&lt;br /&gt;I look forward to getting my postiche&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 15px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal;"&gt;kit. I'm going to make a glorious mustache.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is still surreal to think that it was just the end of January that I started looking at courses, and not even looking in depth. Then applying to loads for the sake of it, then going to an interview and being told that I am just to gosh darn good and that I should do the proper course.&lt;br /&gt;I truly dread the day that things don't pan out just nicely for me, because I will not have a clue what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit. I forgot to make a holiday playlist.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-4969286562401110589?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/4969286562401110589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/afk.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4969286562401110589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4969286562401110589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/afk.html' title='afk'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-2837419302115950872</id><published>2010-08-07T13:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-07T13:43:28.580+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Unemployed.</title><content type='html'>This is far more glummer than I had anticipated.&lt;br /&gt;I miss Ann. I'll see them all in a few months, but it's not going to be the same.&lt;br /&gt;I sure am making this sound pretty pathetic.&lt;br /&gt;Gloomy glum feeling.&lt;br /&gt;I get to sleep now at least, but the early thing didn't bother me. And the plus with that, for a good while now I will be able to wake up from 6am onwards and still think that I have had plenty of sleep. That'll come in handy.&lt;br /&gt;I'm really going to miss it more than I thought I ever would. Well, not Morrisons, that just happened to be the place with all these great people in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news. When I was in town the other day I went looking for headphones. I found some Sennheiser, half price, for thirty pounds. My wallet had the total sum of thirty pounds.&lt;br /&gt;I, of course, bought them.&lt;br /&gt;I've wanted a pair for some time but sixty quid is a lot just for some headphones, but I thought thirty was okay.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I would of paid the full sixty for them. HD sound, it's orgasmic!&lt;br /&gt;Every song I listen to now, it's like listening to for the first time again. I can pick out each single sound. I had no idea there could be so much sound!&lt;br /&gt;And sound canceling too. What a beauty that is. I can listen to nothing but music while I watch the world. Oh, it is wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;I can happily go deaf now that I have experienced such audio beauty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-2837419302115950872?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/2837419302115950872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/unemployed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2837419302115950872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2837419302115950872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/unemployed.html' title='Unemployed.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-7045763653791566195</id><published>2010-08-06T16:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T16:25:52.835+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter.</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow is my final day of work. Today was fun, in a way.&lt;br /&gt;This week there has been issues with the chicken suppliers and yesterday was when stocks dwindled, and today was when pretty much everything ran out. I have always dreamt of this day, where something occurs that isn't our fault that results in there being nothing.&lt;br /&gt;It's as sweet as I imagined!&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to do and the managers can't be angry. Not that they are angry people, Katie is lovely most days and Rochelle is peculiarly nice to me. Like the other day when I was clocking out as she was starting she asked if I was going, I reply yes and her reaction to this is an aww.&lt;br /&gt;I think Doc must be on holiday or something, shame, I would of liked to of said goodbye to him.&lt;br /&gt;I did however say goodbye to Tracey today, got my goodbye kiss as I wasn't going anywhere without it. Walking home was a little sad. Routine breaks tomorrow, and I have made friends and spend days with lovely people who make me smile.&lt;br /&gt;What I think is the main reason that makes me sad is the feeling that I am abandoning people. I know it isn't the case, each to their own and all these people have roots and families but some of them mean a lot to me and I'm just leaving it all behind.&lt;br /&gt;But when I got home I found a big letter from Somerset. I opened and read.&lt;br /&gt;I remembered why I am leaving. I remember the reason to getting a job because I have several order forms to buy loads of cool stuff. I'm easily going to eat up a grand buying it all.&lt;br /&gt;Then I find all the information about New York. How did that bad boy slip my mind!?!&lt;br /&gt;February, that is when I shall be going, all permitting.&lt;br /&gt;It's all very exciting and has put me at ease because I thought they might of forgot about me with the lack of letters before today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of tomorrow 12:00pm, I'll be unemployed. I've wanted it for so long, but I'm going to miss it despite it all. Yet when I walk out those doors it will truly feel as if a weight has been lifted. I will exhale and it will feel amazing. But you know what the first thing that I will want to do when I come home at Christmas? Go to Morrisons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-7045763653791566195?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/7045763653791566195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/letter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7045763653791566195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7045763653791566195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/letter.html' title='Letter.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-5708791664374167796</id><published>2010-08-02T21:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T21:31:13.537+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I could possibly be fading, or have something more to gain.</title><content type='html'>I don't find takeaway food at all appetising anymore. Almost, there will be the few times where I would kill for some, but most of the times these days I can't stand it. I speak of it because this was tea, or dinner, or whatever you wish to dub the evening meal.&lt;br /&gt;I walked into the kitchen after and it smelled of pizza and kebab and there was leftovers left all over the place. Usually I would of gorged to pain, but I just felt repulsed, and shame for what I had just eaten.&lt;br /&gt;Much like when having a wank, when you talk dirty to yourself and that woman in your head, and then when the deed is done you just feel like you are looking at yourself with disgust and shame.&lt;br /&gt;Vulgar? Too far? I have decided this is not so.&lt;br /&gt;We look back at how square people used to be throughout the ages with their taboos and such, but we still have just as many these days. I am for the openness and freedom of conversation. Just the other day Dave and I were sat in his car in traffic commentating on every woman that went by. It was the first time I have done that outside of my own head and it was so much more rewarding. I felt good and honest, even if I was disrespecting all those women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling extremely mellow right now, with an added bonus of discontent. I feel a cold coming on possibly which doesn't help matters, but it's pretty much down to the same old things running round my head.&lt;br /&gt;I get caught up in things, I get happy and then I feel like I am becoming like just another nameless face leading just another pointless existence and that I have left behind the real Dan. The naive idealist, I think that is what he is. Definitely naive, I know that much.&lt;br /&gt;Something Beautiful, the book I am reading helps and doesn't. It is the stem of my somber state. a guy going on holiday to New York and decided just to stay. Familiar? This is why I draw parallels, this was the crazy idea I had the other year. Not a sound one, but not that people were aware of this and so I think this is why people looked down their noses at me. No, just more escapism. I get caught up in day dreams and fantasise about things going right for me. I speak in a past tense now for things do work out really well for me and my day dreams are all of my future and centered around my possible life's direction.&lt;br /&gt;But my school years were normal, but to me they felt more tragic than the rest. Purely and simply because I never got the girl I wanted. Hopeless and pathetic but maybe I'm just a hopeless, pathetic romantic. Hmm, I use the adjective pathetic a lot these days, I do think highly of myself, I stress this.&lt;br /&gt;But back to my escapism, silly day dreams about American girls. It was just because of my ever increasing single life. No ones fault but my own, I should of been outgoing but what can you do? At least it has all lead me to this good place. Away from those ridiculous ideas of ever loving one person, and not understanding how I could love another person after loving another. Crazy. Now I'm fully educated and can see full well how you can love another person after one love has fallen through.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going off on a tangent, honest, because back to my book, I want to do something like that, I want to travel in such a raw way. But this book is pre-9/11, things are probably more strict now yet it's not just my naivety but I am sure that in a world of six billion, one person can be an ambling ghost.&lt;br /&gt;I know it's a lot harder than that, but please, I beg, do not destroy my ideas.&lt;br /&gt;What else is incredible about this book is how it seems so surreal, like a story book. We get brought up and told that we go to school, get a job, get married, have kids and die. Sheltered and linear. Whereas I'm reading about this guy who just turns up at a ranch and works there for a few months. It's wonderful, and because it is true it has given me more hope and belief in the human heart, for there are so many good souls out there.&lt;br /&gt;So yes, my current mood is pretty much me getting hung up on my own existence and not making the most of the time I have.&lt;br /&gt;Yet. A big old but. I think my desire to love is a huge one. Not just for security and the other things, I want to love just to share love. Embrace all the feelings. I have just seen so much fail around me, and crazy versions of love which are full of bitterness and resentment. I want to be different.&lt;br /&gt;Exact same reason for why I want to be a father. I want to be the father I never had.&lt;br /&gt;So that can be my dilemma sometimes. I think I want to soak up the world and it's cultures but is it just pure and simple love that is my one desire. My one reason of existence?&lt;br /&gt;You can see why it makes me sombre, it fills my head with big heavy clouds.&lt;br /&gt;However I can always find the silver lining to clouds.&lt;br /&gt;I have me alone for a good while now, not in a sad way, just an independent way. And thankfully to because I have found who I am. I look back to being in school and all I knew about me then was what music I liked and what things to wear to fit in with my clique.&lt;br /&gt;But now, I know who I am. I am Dan. I know every corner of me, from my toes to my nose. There is nothing I can hide from myself.&lt;br /&gt;This is going off at a tangent. The silver lining to the clouds in my head are I have been alone so therefore I general think as a single entity. Just myself.&lt;br /&gt;I forget that I will meet someone amazing.&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully she will be as amazing as I imagine and that I'll for fill her as she will for fill me.&lt;br /&gt;And if she is perfect, then I needn't worry about living a sheltered, linear life, because she will want what I want, or support me, or whatever perfect women do.&lt;br /&gt;Everything will work out, I bet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came up early to bed but now it is getting on. Probably because I went on.&lt;br /&gt;Getting dark now. The year is slowing down now and it makes me a bit sad. I noticed it the other morning when I was going to work and I was used to the sun being up, but it was only rising.&lt;br /&gt;Luckily I only have four more mornings left because I'd probably get over emotional about the ever fading light in the mornings.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I think some more escapism is needed in the form of The OC.&lt;br /&gt;And speaking of which, both escapism and The OC, The Amazing Adventure of Kavalier and Clay arrived today. Finally.&lt;br /&gt;I have such good feelings about it. I'm so excited to read it, like foaming at the bit!&lt;br /&gt;I sense that this may be my favourite book.&lt;br /&gt;I hope so.&lt;br /&gt;I have been learning this. I say learning, the song is pretty much two lines repeated. But it's lovely.&lt;br /&gt;And fits with my state of mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SiO_7LhPZFM&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SiO_7LhPZFM&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-5708791664374167796?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/5708791664374167796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-could-possibly-be-fading-or-have.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5708791664374167796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5708791664374167796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-could-possibly-be-fading-or-have.html' title='I could possibly be fading, or have something more to gain.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-7252313251553138632</id><published>2010-07-31T21:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T21:17:26.801+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The emotions of Oven Fresh.</title><content type='html'>Today was my last day with Karen, my supervisor.&lt;br /&gt;It was the cutest goodbye I have ever had from anyone, ever. I just wanted to hug her.&lt;br /&gt;I'm definitely sad about leaving, but many decisions in life have such problems. The sadness of something ending even if you know you must leave, or that you are going to for fill potential elsewhere or whatknot.&lt;br /&gt;My first job coming to an end, my first taste of being an adult is soon to be replaced with the structure of education once more.&lt;br /&gt;Poor Karen, she may of cried had I stayed any longer for our farewell, and I can understand why. I can say with confidence, and arrogance, that I am the best one on that department. I have the intuition, independence and confidence to do what I think is best and no one works as hard as me. Well, maybe I am third best because Karen is supervisor for a reason, then there is Ann, but I probably cut fewer corners than Ann.&lt;br /&gt;I feel so warm to know that I am going to missed as both a person, and a worker.&lt;br /&gt;I shall miss Karen, Ann and Adam. Rob, no. Fran I shall see before uni happens I'm sure. Steve, only worked with him once as he's not hardcore enough for mornings. Liam, I have my first shift with him next week despite the fact he's been there a good month or more. Shekinah, I don't talk to.&lt;br /&gt;I shall miss Tracey off Cake Shop loads.&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss bullying Gareth on Bakery.&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss Simon and our breaks together.&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss the pleasant small talk with people.&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss Katie in her good moods, but I wont miss the bad ones.&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss Doc and his ability to be an amazing manager.&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss Morrisons.&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I'd say it. From day one I have been aching to quit come August. Now it's here.&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited though, more so than the end of sixth form, but the end of sixth form was shit.&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking forward to taking another step in my life but I feel like I am abandoning so many people and leaving behind a piece of Dan. Nearly nine months of my life it has taken up. It wont seem like much should I live to eighty, but I'm still writing the pages of my life and this is one big chapter.&lt;br /&gt;I shall also miss Cake Shop girl lots. Emily was the name I saw on her name badge. I was nice to her the other night, helped her pack cookies, swept up for her. And then the first thing I did today was talk to Tracey about the state of the cookies and how it wasn't Emily's fault, she got left with a fucktonne of work and no idea what was what. The same thing I promised to do for some new guy on the Bakery, except I forgot because I wasn't in love with him.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I joke, I am not in love with her. It has just been an age since I have liked someone and I have thrown myself into the school boy feelings of a crush.&lt;br /&gt;It has been lovely without all those school related feelings, but now with my dusting off of feelings I had forgotten it has made me feel pretty alone to be honest.&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness I have uni coming up, I'll get laid then!&lt;br /&gt;I joke in a sense, I'm not so vulgar and informal with sex however I was well frustrated when I watched a film with a sex scene in today. And no, it wasn't a porno.&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling chatty tonight, it's my book, ever so inspiring. I just read a part of it where it's old blog entries (but before blogs were cool, like way back in '98) and it pleased me. Made me think "what if I one day publish anything I have documented over the years?".&lt;br /&gt;It could happen.&lt;br /&gt;I can dream. And I often do, I wish so badly for me to share this with the entire world. I want millions of eyes to read what is on my mind. One day.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, and in my book he used the term in other news!&lt;br /&gt;A common term, but I use it and it made me relate.&lt;br /&gt;And while we are talking about books, I found some book tokens which I assume I got for me a model student and sixth form and now I finally own The Catcher in the Rye. It was that or Of Mice and Men. I'll get that one after, along with To Kill a Mockingbird. You know, all those books people read for school but I never did because I got stuck with fucking Kestrel for a Knave.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, there are other emotions to Oven Fresh.&lt;br /&gt;It is impossible not to be aware of all the death. Just today I got sixteen crates of chickens, that is one hundred and sixty chickens, dead. A crate of portions can be about forty-five chickens. A lot of death. And this is just our department which is small and not so busy.&lt;br /&gt;But Adam and myself were talking the other night about it, and we had a lot of chickens that hadn't sold and we have to throw them away. He said how these chickens were killed to be eaten, and now they are just being thrown away.&lt;br /&gt;Ignorance is not bliss, I have learnt this from my job.&lt;br /&gt;This is not me becoming a vegetarian, though I could easily do so.&lt;br /&gt;I should probably watch some OC now and get lots of sleep. I have only four more times to set my alarm! But knowing my luck I'll land another job with six &amp;nbsp;am starts. Truth be told, I love them.&lt;br /&gt;But I must go, for this room is a mess and tomorrow will be a serious cleaning and gutting day. Until a good song comes on, then I pick up my guitar and then a few hours later I am still surrounded by mess.&lt;br /&gt;This is what will happen tomorrow. Despite my awareness, I wont be able to stop myself.&lt;br /&gt;And I dedicate this to Cake Shop girl:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Vn2Gu3-5w6w&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Vn2Gu3-5w6w&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-7252313251553138632?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/7252313251553138632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/emotions-of-oven-fresh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7252313251553138632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7252313251553138632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/emotions-of-oven-fresh.html' title='The emotions of Oven Fresh.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-381094576430630555</id><published>2010-07-27T01:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T01:04:24.500+01:00</updated><title type='text'>On the road to somewhere.</title><content type='html'>I came up to bed a while ago as I was falling asleep, but apparently coming to bed woke me up.&lt;br /&gt;I did drink an awful lot of coffee downstairs lying down, so evidently the sudden vertical position threw all that caffeine to my head.&lt;br /&gt;Earlier when I was reading I had a sudden sense of deja vu, a premonition coming to be. The only thing is, I only remember the dream as it is unfolding so I would be useless to predict lottery numbers or avert disasters. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;It made me sad though because I haven't thought about the fate dilemma for a nice long time. Last time I did I eased my mind with the idea of parallel universes so that I could get some sleep. Still a sadness remains, the thought of a predetermined life is a terrible thing. I'd rather not exist if I had no choices. But maybe if I had no choices I wouldn't exist, for I'd just be an empty puppet and fate would be my strings.&lt;br /&gt;I pray this is not the case. Not pray, wrong word choice, but you get it.&lt;br /&gt;I carried on reading, a good read my new book is. Makes me think of myself last year with my plans to go to America. Though I'm pretty sure that not one soul understands that this was not a real plan.&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, given half the chance I would of loved to go ahead with it, but I had no plans at all so I spoke my day dreams, as I often do.&lt;br /&gt;Back to the book and how it ties it, this guy went on holiday to America and just decided to stay around for a bit. All is possible, just look at Into The Wild.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I came upstairs as I was tired, but now here I am.&lt;br /&gt;I am tired now though, I shall roll over after this and sleep will be over me before I can say Mississippi mud pie.&lt;br /&gt;Before this moment though I was pottering on the internet and looking through my documents and other such shit. I was lead to read something I never planned on doing so again. But I decided some research was needed to inspire me on starting some sort of project. I said I fancied maybe doing a comic for fun, but I get carried away with words, and that is happening write now.&lt;br /&gt;The Dan from a year ago is not me. Even calling him Dan feels wrong, he wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;I feel ashamed of it. Not sure in what way; the fickle nature of then and now? The words he used? No doubt it is a whole mix of things.&lt;br /&gt;I speak a year later like I have a lifetime of knowledge, and I hope so much that I don't look back and think Dan, aged nineteen, was also a melodramatic prick.&lt;br /&gt;I shouldn't do because since late last year when I got my shit together I kept saying I loved who I was and where I was. This still stands now. It pleases me no end.&lt;br /&gt;Another reason as to why I do not believe that Past Dan was in fact Dan was because as I read certain things my heart remained level. No drops, no elation. The stone in my chest remained so.&lt;br /&gt;Even when I was curious to what I was doing exactly a year ago. It was such a "huh" moment, only without a naked River in a box.&lt;br /&gt;I totally forgot about an entire friendship from being so preoccupied.&lt;br /&gt;I definitely have too much mind in my head. It thinks too much, I swear that it must think more than other peoples. For instance I'll be watching tv with my mother and be thinking about whether or not she is thinking about anything, and is it in as much depth as my thought.&lt;br /&gt;But my thinking at work helped me, I was thinking about how I should tell the new person on the department that she did a good job, so I told her so and thanked her. However I have to think about these things, words rarely fall out my mouth on a whim. Apart from when I am with friends, and I love those simple moments of just living each simple moment.&lt;br /&gt;I don't worry about my mind, not one bit. Everyone has their quirks, not a soul on this land in normal. To &amp;nbsp;be normal is abnormal, for the abnormal are normal.&lt;br /&gt;I now I feel like a breeze is passing through me. My emotions have flowed through these sentences but now they have come back down to earth.&lt;br /&gt;A most lovely breeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Counteracting with the simplest of simple notes.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so gutted to be leaving work now because some beautiful girl has started on Cake Shop. And it is no case of just having someone remotely attractive in the work place, she is beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;There is an essence of attitude to her, and I like it.&lt;br /&gt;She could be the one but now we'll just be ships passing in the night.&lt;br /&gt;I ofcourse jest, I don't think she is the one and I don't believe there is just one person for someone anyway. No, she's just hot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-381094576430630555?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/381094576430630555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/on-road-to-somewhere.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/381094576430630555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/381094576430630555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/on-road-to-somewhere.html' title='On the road to somewhere.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-4833008534740831676</id><published>2010-07-25T23:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T23:28:35.797+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Slicing up eyeballs.</title><content type='html'>That went extremely well.&lt;br /&gt;I was nervous with my presents. I don't do them often.&lt;br /&gt;It's a nice feeling though, going out on a limb or whatever they say and feeling nervous about it. Exposing one self and one self's love. But not really, for it was just a birthday present, nothing dramatic.&lt;br /&gt;And they went down a treat, making the nice feeling all the better with the payoff of relief and the fact you know someone well.&lt;br /&gt;This evening has been in the style of a diner party and it was lovely. Truly.&lt;br /&gt;I thought when I have the house to myself for a week after holidaying it up I would par-tay it up, but now I think I want to throw a glorious diner party.&lt;br /&gt;But what to do?&lt;br /&gt;I love Mexican but I'm not sure it if it has a status worthy of diner party food.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe Greek from my recent exposure?&lt;br /&gt;Asian is always a winner for such situations but I do it often.&lt;br /&gt;Or weather permitting, something al fresco with a barbeque involved?&lt;br /&gt;My this is awfully exciting!&lt;br /&gt;I'll plan more, get more excited about food and then decide.&lt;br /&gt;Excellent.&lt;br /&gt;Also, super addicted to this song:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0P3lhrwio-M&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0P3lhrwio-M&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-4833008534740831676?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/4833008534740831676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/slicing-up-eyeballs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4833008534740831676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4833008534740831676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/slicing-up-eyeballs.html' title='Slicing up eyeballs.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-3315514931700041181</id><published>2010-07-23T21:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T21:10:07.513+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Miss it,</title><content type='html'>miss it like a hole in my head.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday walking home I was filled with warmth but could see impending sadness of leaving my job. I know, I found the feeling as strange as these words, but it is true.&lt;br /&gt;I felt superior last night as I was with a new guy (lovely guy, incredibly slow), he was asking me what I wanted him to do. I like moments like that.&lt;br /&gt;But today I really wanted to punch my boss in the face. I settled for back talk.&lt;br /&gt;People always say that in situations like todays it's like being in school. This continues throughout life, so I have decided that it is not like being at school and it is in fact just another beautiful feat of human beings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I get home cursing. Then did nothing but read I Am Legend. Well, after watching the rest of City of God. How amazing is that film? It captures the essence of every moment perfectly, even if a lot of the essences are ugly.&lt;br /&gt;But I Am Legend. A good book to reflect the mornings feelings I think. I can watch a film and analyse bits of it, but with books I have never done that really. I just read them.&lt;br /&gt;But this time around the final few chapters of I Am Legend I saw for their meaning, and it still remains my very favourite book.&lt;br /&gt;I really need to finish Memoirs of a Geisha as I want to take a good book on holiday. I need to finish In The Aeroplane Over the Sea, but that should take no more than an hour. Yet I am sure that I will start a new one regardless.&lt;br /&gt;Now though I need some OC because season two has lasted two weeks or something ludicrous! Crazy, I know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-3315514931700041181?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/3315514931700041181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/miss-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3315514931700041181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3315514931700041181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/miss-it.html' title='Miss it,'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-1614818847475927416</id><published>2010-07-21T00:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T00:49:45.182+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrapping paper.</title><content type='html'>I don't need to this, and I shouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;But, I just feel like a chat, even if that means creating someone to talk to.&lt;br /&gt;Today has been nice. I bought presents for upcoming birthdays. I feel good for doing so, but I have a few fears. These must be what normal people feel as it is rare I will put myself out there, but here I am going all out. I'm glad too, because I really want these people to see how much I care for them. And I still feel like apologising after abandoning everyone last year.&lt;br /&gt;I look back with shame, I look at myself and wonder how I let things get under my skin so much, how I became captivated with opinions that weren't mine. How I started to hate people that in actual fact, I loved.&lt;br /&gt;It's all out my system though, thankfully. Not for good, that I am sure of, but next time around I will have hindsight and knowledge to take my hand.&lt;br /&gt;And this leads nicely to the other thing.&lt;br /&gt;Fine &amp;amp; Dandy is on hiatus. That being a comic I thought about doing. I have the prologue and the sketches for it and chances are I will turn it into a finished product but I shall leave it there for now because I don't think it is something I can reign in on my own. I shall wait for the help and inspiration.&lt;br /&gt;Also, I have my sights set on a new project.&lt;br /&gt;Comics have strong, passionate and occasionally melodramatic personas in them, and this got me thinking about when I like a girl.&lt;br /&gt;Not sure how I then got to the idea of writing some kind of autobiographical comic about girls. I think it was to put myself back into the shoes of days gone by to write in an overly dramatic persona, just to get in the practice.&lt;br /&gt;I definitely want to do it because I have been planning it all out these past two days.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be a graphic novelist, but I fancy dipping my toe in the pool, so starting with something personal is bound to be easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other news:&lt;br /&gt;I have headaches, big time.&lt;br /&gt;As you know, I dabble in smoking, or should I say I did.&lt;br /&gt;It was on/off for a couple of years. More of the off because to begin with I'm sure I must of had like a cigarette a month, but recently they have been on the up. Weekly, daily.&lt;br /&gt;But they were not bad, they still gave me a good high and provided me with many artistic ideas. But I vowed that the day that I have a cigarette and it doesn't give me that great feeling I would stop.&lt;br /&gt;Well, that day came and went.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't care, but then they started to make me feel ill. Maybe my mental disgust had a hand to play, or the fact the last couple of cigarettes had been smoked when I was wasted and then I threw up.&lt;br /&gt;Whatever it was, I threw them away to ensure I'd stop.&lt;br /&gt;This is something I always wanted to do though, give up smoking on nothing but will power to prove it's strength.&lt;br /&gt;But it's not hard, it's not like I was a smoker, twenty a day habit, that would be hard.&lt;br /&gt;This is the life of leisure in comparison.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-1614818847475927416?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/1614818847475927416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/wrapping-paper.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/1614818847475927416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/1614818847475927416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/wrapping-paper.html' title='Wrapping paper.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-905239959615484345</id><published>2010-07-18T21:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T21:04:11.288+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Runaway dog.</title><content type='html'>I am most definitely a better person now I don't do this daily. What was I thinking, really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a huge deal to report, but ahead I shall go.&lt;br /&gt;Work. I don't pay it enough attention to hate it anymore because my leaving date is almost in my grasp. Next week will be a swine, Adam is on holiday, but I'll be happy to work more if it means he gets a week off because he shouldn't be there, he should be traveling the world and telling me his stories.&lt;br /&gt;Week after that is a super nice one if all remains well, plus new person! It also makes me feel less bad for leaving because I like my department (minus Rob) and I wouldn't want to leave them in a pickle.&lt;br /&gt;Another thing to mention about work, my boss came and had a chat with me about leaving and polite questions about life plans. It was nice of her, and despite all he faults I cannot say she doesn't have a relationship with all her employees. That is a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, enough supermarket talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carnival. A day of many things. Met up with just two people, though we did visit a couple of friends who were at work. Got sweets and bitched about people, then bitched about the quality of the floats. Good fun.&lt;br /&gt;Then wet. Then places to go, but I ended up at a friends for a little while where I borrowed I Love You, Man (which is good) and got I Am Legend back ready to read on holiday, assuming I can wait. I also need to get Kavalier and Clay.&lt;br /&gt;Lift home to save being rained on, and ever so thankful was I.&lt;br /&gt;Recently though, I have been wondering what it will be like when I meet up with friends after vast amounts of time. I wonder because there was this girl I liked, which is nothing new, but after not seeing her for ages and then seeing her I got nostalgic feelings for her. Not real feelings, all nostalgic it was.&lt;br /&gt;Now some of my female friends I have liked in the past and I wonder if that will happen again.&lt;br /&gt;I hope not.&lt;br /&gt;See, this is why I write out my thoughts. Now I have written this I can see that if I am not single when I see them after a long time I should be sound as a pound.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's not a fear, just a mere thought I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carnival evening was short. To begin with, some theatre. Then beer.&lt;br /&gt;Just one for Dan as he had work in the morning and he just didn't fancy drinking loads for there was no celebration and he did get pretty ill from his last session.&lt;br /&gt;But with all the laughter, I wouldn't of had time to drink.&lt;br /&gt;Saw lots of old faces, and conversed at length with them about all sorts. It's nice to have common roots with people.&lt;br /&gt;Someone I had a lovely and passionate talk about music said a warm hello to me, the pathetic person I am I like to believe it was because she remembered even though it was a good year ago. There was a girl with one of the cutest noses I have ever seen too, I would of liked to of said hi to her, and would of gotten the chance had I not promised to walk someone home. Curses.&lt;br /&gt;There was someone else who said hi to me earlier which was, something. Made me doubt myself and my actions for a good thirty seconds before I knew I was right in my place. And I never want to get onto that slippery slope again.&lt;br /&gt;And there were a million people I didn't get the chance to talk to, after doing my walking home duties of the night I thought about going back but I wanted to go home. I was tired, my knee hurt and I had work. A wise call.&lt;br /&gt;Still, I can't help but feel I missed out on something great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, I thought I'd be analytical in my talking but I wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;What to say...?&lt;br /&gt;Soldiers are not heroes.&lt;br /&gt;Also, having the term 'hero', it would be nice if we didn't have it and everyone was instinctively heroic.&lt;br /&gt;However, what would I of done the past few days if that were so, there'd be no Batman and as a result no Arkham Asylum to play.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-905239959615484345?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/905239959615484345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/runaway-dog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/905239959615484345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/905239959615484345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/runaway-dog.html' title='Runaway dog.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-2643928269764324810</id><published>2010-07-12T22:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T22:46:06.758+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sight for sore eyes.</title><content type='html'>It has been lovely not doing this. I haven't felt tethered to something. And it's nice to not talk to a pair of imaginary ears, nice and not pathetic.&lt;br /&gt;The other night was messy. Celebrating Jamie's birthday. It hurt, and it hurt for a good twenty-four hours afterwards. Not just small talk about the night, no, there are traits in myself to highlight.&lt;br /&gt;Like I sorta wanted to get with someone but I didn't want to take the reigns so to speak, the back seat was for me as I didn't really want to drag someone into my own frustrations.&lt;br /&gt;That wouldn't be nice.&lt;br /&gt;But I was thinking of myself really, my image and the awkwardness that could follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resent events mean that I wont be able to get to know a certain person I wanted to get to know better. I wanted to get to know her better for all the wrong reasons at the time, but the resent events would make it less frowned upon, but still frowned upon. Cryptic, I know, but I have to cover my tracks just incase anyone actually reads this. Anyway, I shall live as I'm sure my mind will forget all in a month.&lt;br /&gt;Pointless to be truthful when the truth is hidden away? I don't think so, I just like to write my thoughts because once they are written down I can then use that part of my mind that was thinking about it to think about something new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The OC is still going down a right treat. And whenever I watch something I relate to the situations and characters. At the moment I will be so bold to say Buxton is my Newport, and in this situation I would be Seth. I say this because it feels like a cage to me, but it isn't full of fake people at least. There are few similarities other than the fact I want to leave Buxton, but as I said, this is me.&lt;br /&gt;But last night I was sat on the slopes and looking around, and I was thinking that it is a pretty place and I will miss aspects of it.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I can't think of any other real reasons to my relating to Seth's feelings.&lt;br /&gt;I must be annoying to people who see this trait of mine. I'll just find someone who finds it adorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, I'm going to watch The Thing with my mum. Despite how annoying she is I do love her, and in this case I love her annoying ability to watch anything. She'll watch anything just to be entertained, whereas I like to think I am a little deeper than that. I'm probably not, but don't shatter my ideas.&lt;br /&gt;But tonight, I'm not annoyed with her for watching something she has no idea about. I'm probably just happy to have a bit of company while watching a horror, it's all new to me.&lt;br /&gt;So I shall just have to find a woman who finds my fly away mind adorable and who also watches horror films.&lt;br /&gt;She must also be red headed, not too tall, nice and curvy, play the cello or something of equal coolness, dabble in a little guitar too but must also have room for me to improve her life with such delights as Firefly, Tammany Hall NYC and myself.&lt;br /&gt;I jest, I'm not that shallow.&lt;br /&gt;Only a little, for I do mean it when I say I will only marry a beautiful person because if I am to awake next to her for the rest of my days I might as well awake to a beautiful sight that a scary one.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure you all think the same, I can just admit it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-2643928269764324810?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/2643928269764324810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/sight-for-sore-eyes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2643928269764324810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2643928269764324810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/sight-for-sore-eyes.html' title='Sight for sore eyes.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-9208527285876427893</id><published>2010-07-09T17:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T17:23:52.726+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Break my stride.</title><content type='html'>Finally broke the habit. A mid year resolution to not talk about my days on a day to day basis.&lt;br /&gt;Ate heartily last night and still feel full now, then partied like it was 1997 with Bev. We had Third Eye Blind, Goo Goo Dolls and yo-yos!&lt;br /&gt;I needed it for sure because maybe someone got too emotional when Anna went back to Pittsburgh. Only because the show is so awesome and embracing, and because areas of my life are empty at the moment I am substituting my absences with their presence.&lt;br /&gt;Not in a sad depressing way, no, for I know I'll be filling up my life in no time at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave in my leaving date at work, but they don't need the formalities until a week before I piss off. I wanted to make sure I wouldn't leave them high and dry, but with the crazy one week notice system it looks like they will be screwed whatever way.&lt;br /&gt;I will be missed, I know it. I am the best there apart from Ann. I could easily be the supervisor as there is nothing to it. And I am told these things too, it's not just my opinion. I'm an asset.&lt;br /&gt;It will be nice to be missed, and despite all my hate, I think I will miss aspects. I'll miss the people, I might miss the hours because I like having afternoons and evenings to myself. I'll miss having a uniform that perfectly matches my hair, although I wont miss the fact it always reeks of chicken fat no matter how many times I wash it. I'll miss having a manager who treats me like a friend, and who maybe fancies me.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I have developed an arrogance, it's pretty sweet.&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss being really good at stuff and having newbies look at me the same way I looked at people when I started.&lt;br /&gt;But I wont miss it for many reasons. Customers; nearly all wankers. The work; endless. The smell; rank. The management; shit.&lt;br /&gt;It'll be good to leave.&lt;br /&gt;Though it has lead me to think that maybe I should have a higher opinion on myself. I've been modest for my life, thought nothing extraordinary of myself. I have been awesome at this job, I can't help but feel pride in what I do despite the hate. My last job at the radio station I was awesome at, I'd get the days work done in three hours and spend the rest of the day drinking coffee, listening to music and drawing while occasionally answering the phone.&lt;br /&gt;Not a massive resumé to form a conclusive conclusion, but along with other things like my kitchen skills I think I should have a much higher opinion on myself.&lt;br /&gt;New starts soon, and I shall have a confident head on my shoulders, and maybe a pinch of ego. I wont become an arrogant prick, not just yet anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I shall remain silent until I feel I have something to type. Probably some psychoanalysis and rants about Nazis. The usual stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-9208527285876427893?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/9208527285876427893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/break-my-stride.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/9208527285876427893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/9208527285876427893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/break-my-stride.html' title='Break my stride.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-1950327473573989322</id><published>2010-07-07T21:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T21:55:47.362+01:00</updated><title type='text'>One thousand words.</title><content type='html'>That is how many words a picture can tell.&lt;br /&gt;Yet if you took a snapshot of me now and compare it to one of last summer you'd think I was living the same life. And I am, in a few ways, doing the same things.&lt;br /&gt;Hair is different though.&lt;br /&gt;The company I kept has been distilled to the max.&lt;br /&gt;I have a job.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am taller.&lt;br /&gt;I have more scars.&lt;br /&gt;Cutting it short, lots of things are different but I thought I would discuss how someone might look at me and think I am reliving what I was doing last summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to like dA, for what must of been a day.&lt;br /&gt;But because you can have 'artistic' nude photos, it is just myspace with less clothes. And myspace didn't have many clothes to begin with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New phone arrived today. I know remember why I never bothered getting one earlier. They aren't fun or exciting, just a means to communicate. I'll get a bigger memory card for it though, then I can cram it with music to listen to in the shower and other places where I cannot have my iPod.&lt;br /&gt;I may need a new iPod soon. I might be able to drag this one to Christmas, but the screen is dying big time. Christmas present? Maybe. Along with a million dvd box sets.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-1950327473573989322?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/1950327473573989322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/one-thousand-words.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/1950327473573989322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/1950327473573989322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/one-thousand-words.html' title='One thousand words.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-8582368883608583119</id><published>2010-07-06T21:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T21:44:58.600+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fool of a Took.</title><content type='html'>I just saw an advert for Predators with some familiar faces in it. Good faces too, have these actors no shame?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work was a piece of piss, avoided the usual work and gutted the freezer and cleaned it. The whole floor had a layer of ice from mopping so I decided to be an ice skater. Fun times.&lt;br /&gt;Seven hours later and not much more work it was time to go home. Sadly I missed the drama of Jeanne needing the urge to throw her authority around. But I got to rant with Adam and how no one has superiority over another human being. I hope that he gets to leave that place soon too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I shall paint and take up time without too much OC as I am nearing the end of the box and the next one wont be here until Friday. Maybe I'll play with Rory too, but I cut my nails a tad too short and they hurt. These are the biggest problems in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God I am shit at entertaining myself. Bored.&lt;br /&gt;Don't know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;Don't really want to do anything.&lt;br /&gt;I should write a book.&lt;br /&gt;Or I just need to find friends like Ryan and Seth because last night in my sleepy state I said to myself that I will see them tomorrow. Completely forgot they weren't real.&lt;br /&gt;How foolish!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-8582368883608583119?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/8582368883608583119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/fool-of-took.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8582368883608583119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8582368883608583119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/fool-of-took.html' title='Fool of a Took.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-811751393247184790</id><published>2010-07-05T21:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T21:54:25.788+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Nineteen.</title><content type='html'>Again, another long day. &lt;br /&gt;They seem longer because now I do things whereas for the final half of last year I did shit all and had to kill time before going to bed only to wake up and do it all again. It was a sad existance. But now I do things. &lt;br /&gt;Kinda. &lt;br /&gt;These things are not a better existance. Work and the time around that is filled with dvds and such. Still, I am happy and I am fond of this point in time. Work is still a bitch but i have four weeks left, and assumming that I just do three day weeks that is just tweleve shifts. I can count that on my hands, and soon I'll be counting them on the one hand. &lt;br /&gt;I can't wait until I clock off for the last time. It's a high posibility that I run through the store naked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other things in the life of Dan. I feel my age. &lt;br /&gt;I was doing a survey and had to tick the third box that was 19-24. &lt;br /&gt;I don't get asked for ID anywhere, but that'll change when I am a new face in a new town.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;There are many other things but I can't remember them so now I just look like a dick with two reasons here. &lt;br /&gt;This could be a third, forgetful with my age, but I forget things all the time. I just don't listen to people. &lt;br /&gt;Oh, and tonight there was a new kid in the bakery. Seems nice, a bit jockish, but because school is behind us all and I work with him it'll be no problem. He is seventeen, I wouldn't of guessed at first but now I know he looks it. Point is, his wages are teeny, four pound something an hour. And I was stood there being paid £6.12 for an hour of my time. &lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how I am feeling about this age stuff. At first I thought it was a bit sad, but now I am not so sure. The more years I clock up the more I will do with my life, the more people&amp;nbsp;I will meet and the better I will get at things. Being eighteen was shit, too much hype for fuck all. Ninetine, it is an age I have grown to love. I feel like I have gained years of wisdom in a single year. &lt;br /&gt;I'll say the same thing when I am twenty and look back on this moment and still think that I thought in a childish manner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My pizza smells awful tasty so I must check it, then take it upstairs and show it a good time. &lt;br /&gt;And by good time, I mean The OC.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-811751393247184790?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/811751393247184790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/nineteen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/811751393247184790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/811751393247184790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/nineteen.html' title='Nineteen.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-8571233467998076527</id><published>2010-07-04T21:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T21:33:42.591+01:00</updated><title type='text'>These summer days are indeed long.</title><content type='html'>There is nothing in the world that fills me with the warmth that The OC gives off.&lt;br /&gt;Literally.&lt;br /&gt;I spent the afternoon in bed watching it and totally forgot that I had my own family. No Sandy.&lt;br /&gt;It'll be okay, because when I have my own family I shall be like Sandy/Richard Castle for they are awesome fathers.&lt;br /&gt;Then I had to put trousers on to eat chinese food. Awkward much?&lt;br /&gt;It was from that place round the corner which is dirt cheap and not so great.&lt;br /&gt;My kun po chicken wasn't a bright colour at least, oh no, it was the exact colour of blood.&lt;br /&gt;My plate looked like it belonged on a horror film set, and is it so bad that it made it more appetising? I do enjoy torture porn, in the simply way of the gore, but I like it for other reasons too. I like to think I'm somewhat deeper than my need for violence.&lt;br /&gt;Back to the food, I'm guessing it wasn't colouring and it was in fact a sauce made out of goats blood. Taste wise, it was spicy, good and hot and that hide it's flaws.&lt;br /&gt;I feel I have shared with you my favourite things; The OC, blood and food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, must bathe. Then I must watch Southland. Then catch up with The IT crowd (pronounced the it crowd, not the eye tea crowd). Then there is Bizarre ER too.&lt;br /&gt;And if there is anymore time, more OC!&lt;br /&gt;I love how it shows the importance of moral fibre and not wealth. On paper, you'd think Jimmy was a bad person, but he has a heart of gold and it amazing in nearly every way. Almost.&lt;br /&gt;Second time I thought I wouldn't get the hots for Anna and dislike Summer, but it happened again. I want Seth to get with Anna again and forget about Summer.&lt;br /&gt;What can you do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-8571233467998076527?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/8571233467998076527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/these-summer-days-are-indeed-long.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8571233467998076527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8571233467998076527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/these-summer-days-are-indeed-long.html' title='These summer days are indeed long.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-4173519431759099154</id><published>2010-07-03T19:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-03T19:02:56.786+01:00</updated><title type='text'>High on Firefly.</title><content type='html'>I was going to say I had High on Firefly stuck in my head yesterday, but the truth is it has been in my head this morning!?!&lt;br /&gt;It has been a long day and my sense of time has gone. I honestly don't believe I was at work this morning.&lt;br /&gt;But it has been a good long day, the kind where you feel you have got lots done. Even if I have done nothing.&lt;br /&gt;Lucky that I just checked my phone. My evening plans of watching The OC have been side lined, so I shall cram some in now and then go socialise with real friends. Even if they are nothing on Ryan and Seth.&lt;br /&gt;I should buy a new phone. I shall do that now also. I saw a white one that looked nice, and it was only £30.&lt;br /&gt;My head aches, really bad, so I must drink lots tonight to cover it up. This might end up making everything worse in the morning, but it's okay as I have work. I think I have to be there for half nine. That is when I will turn up. If I am late, worse things happen at sea.&lt;br /&gt;I could ring and ask, but the more I think the more adamant I am that it is half nine.&lt;br /&gt;Last thing, some news came out today. Funny that it would come out such a day where it complimented my feelings. That is all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-wrap;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/o_dPBlkvwOc&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/o_dPBlkvwOc&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-4173519431759099154?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/4173519431759099154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/high-on-firefly.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4173519431759099154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4173519431759099154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/high-on-firefly.html' title='High on Firefly.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-3024867945327012698</id><published>2010-07-02T20:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T20:50:01.181+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Flame on!</title><content type='html'>So it would seem that I know myself pretty well. Even if what I predict 'aint all to great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-3024867945327012698?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/3024867945327012698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/flame-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3024867945327012698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3024867945327012698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/flame-on.html' title='Flame on!'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-5475577919872248821</id><published>2010-07-01T22:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T22:24:40.505+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to the OC, bitch.</title><content type='html'>I'm all itchy. I'm guessing I got eaten last night.&lt;br /&gt;Now I am sat here and it feels like I was at work yesterday, but in actual fact I was there this morning for what felt like a blink of an eye.&lt;br /&gt;A very nice feeling.&lt;br /&gt;When I got home I found The O.C. had arrived. Beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;Just watched some now. So much foreshadowing. And it is amazingly writing and laid out. The first episode is reflected on itself, even down to Ryan having a bruise on his other cheek. Maybe that wasn't intentional, but if it was, well done.&lt;br /&gt;Just glorious.&lt;br /&gt;I'll probably watch some more later. I need to sort my hair tonight. Brighten the bad boy up.&lt;br /&gt;I might play some Final Fantasy IX instead?&lt;br /&gt;So many nice choices!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-5475577919872248821?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/5475577919872248821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/welcome-to-oc-bitch.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5475577919872248821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5475577919872248821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/07/welcome-to-oc-bitch.html' title='Welcome to the OC, bitch.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-2735270024553086145</id><published>2010-06-30T21:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T21:15:59.786+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Crimson and clover.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Nunes new tune; awfully fun to say.&lt;br /&gt;Technically it's a cover, a Paramore one at that. I wouldn't listen to them, but it came from good old Julia Nunes mouth. Odd shaped mouth, but beautiful all the same.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am just like all the others on YouTube who love her.&lt;br /&gt;I really do. I wont skirt around or pretend that I don't. The dreams I have had where she was my best friend were the best. We all have dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today has been swell. Started with some jaaaaaaa, as I just talked about.&lt;br /&gt;Then some DoD until I decided it was about time to check what my hours were for tomorrow. Six, as I thought. While in Morrisons I got some iced coffee for the journey home.&lt;br /&gt;I was going to take Rory out into the sun, but found I had other plans in the form of football and the park. This was fun because the two overly competitive men couldn't go. Just a light hearted kick about. Apart from when I fell over in true style. Stretched too far on one leg, lost my footing and went arse over tit and landed full bore on my back. Not as sore now, we'll see what they story is in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;Company was great, it feels like I haven't heard my voice for weeks, it was just lovely this evening, rolling out the conversation.&lt;br /&gt;Home to a barbeque and lots of cider. Drink loads of the stuff now because of resent events. Not Strongbow shit, good hearty stuff.&lt;br /&gt;Then people wanted pudding, so in my fuzzy headed state I betted them all I could make a pineapple upside down cake in five minutes. I did it. Thankfully all the knives in this house are blunt for I may of finished up with less fingers after carving up the pineapple.&lt;br /&gt;And it was pretty lush, if I dare say so.&lt;br /&gt;I hope I'll be the storm I imagine myself being at uni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/05De2GHllPQ&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/05De2GHllPQ&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-2735270024553086145?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/2735270024553086145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/crimson-and-clover.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2735270024553086145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2735270024553086145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/crimson-and-clover.html' title='Crimson and clover.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-3458602260738190397</id><published>2010-06-29T21:03:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T21:05:54.022+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Terrorism, self esteem and Colin Hay.</title><content type='html'>"&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;Two planes landed in ENGLAND today, one carrying 23 overpaid, under achieving, footballers with ego's to match their wallets...and the other seven men who's coffins were draped in the union jack, who died for this country. These are the real hero's we should be supporting, these men and women who give their lives so we can live in a free world. THESE ARE THE PRIDE OF ENGLAND.....R.I.P. re post if you agree!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;These kind of things piss me off so much, it's almost untrue. But it is true, and it pisses me off.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;I didn't lay into some of the people who posted it on facebook, but I shall vent it here.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;Free world? What a load of shit. How is it a free world when you invade and kill any place that disagree with you.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;I don't support terrorism, two wrongs don't make a right. However, I wouldn't say I condone it either. It's easy to call someone a terrorist when they attack you but people fail to look at themselves to see why they would provoke such an attack.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;Look at Che. America branded him a terrorist, yet the world praises his name a a freedom fighter and his face is pasted on just about everything. Flags to thongs, wallets to t shirts and that is a sad reality in itself. Point being, one mans terrorist is another mans freedom fighter.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;Best leave it here now before I say something silly because I am uneducated in it all, but still I'll throw around my opinions haphazardly.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;While I a bitching; Loraine. Or is it two r's?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;My dad's girlfriend. Or is it fiancée?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;A confusing subject to say the least.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;Generally I hate her even though she is not a malicious being yet the other day I started to feel sorry for her. I noticed she was in a relationship with my fake dad, and for anyone to love him and be happy with him must have the lowest self esteem in the world. I imagine she'd be the kind of person that if she was being beaten, she would blame herself.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;I didn't feel sorry for her for long, self esteem is not my problem. The name says it all, self esteem. Self.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;I'm a bad person, I don't feel sorry for people if their self esteem is low. It's in their hands, they can change it. Willpower. Nothing magical.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;Lets end on a positive. Would you believe it, today was the first time I have played Waiting For My Real Life to Begin. I printed the chords off when I first heard it, back when I was shit at guitar and couldn't play it and never tried since.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;I fixed that today, and my my I sounded good.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-3458602260738190397?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/3458602260738190397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/terrorism-self-esteem-and-colin-hay.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3458602260738190397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3458602260738190397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/terrorism-self-esteem-and-colin-hay.html' title='Terrorism, self esteem and Colin Hay.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-3837905245233991558</id><published>2010-06-28T17:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T17:52:18.009+01:00</updated><title type='text'>It's my brothers birthday.</title><content type='html'>I don't like him, and it's not just a usual disliking towards a sibling.&lt;br /&gt;He's such a little prick.&lt;br /&gt;I'll be gone soon and he'll forever be out of my hair. I was also thinking in ten years time he'll be finishing school and I could be anywhere in the world. Ten whole years to get as far away as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eiko joined my party on FFIX. She'd rock as a younger sister.&lt;br /&gt;Finished my big canvas. And by finish I threw paint at it, dragged and cloth over it and accidently ripped it. It was an accident, honest.&lt;br /&gt;I'd call it the bane of my existence but it has just been sat there for weeks while I have done nothing to it. It's just been there, mocking me.&lt;br /&gt;It will free me of a little negativity, maybe.&lt;br /&gt;I have so much though it will hardly register.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-3837905245233991558?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/3837905245233991558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/its-my-brothers-birthday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3837905245233991558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3837905245233991558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/its-my-brothers-birthday.html' title='It&apos;s my brothers birthday.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-7915924311109749403</id><published>2010-06-27T21:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T21:41:56.647+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Short sentences. They rock.</title><content type='html'>Wow. Where did the time go?&lt;br /&gt;I missed the football as I was at work. One of those days where I get away with doing shit all, all day long.&lt;br /&gt;Came home to find the house empty. Just the way I like it. Can't be doing with people.&lt;br /&gt;Made a chili. From scratch of course. No packets. You only need pepper, paprika and cumin. Lots of cumin, I find the packets don't have enough. I love cumin.&lt;br /&gt;Beer. I have a right thirst on. I think. I open a bottle and it's gone. I don't feel like I have a thirst on.&lt;br /&gt;Singed the hairs in one nostril.&lt;br /&gt;Finally. I'm getting into the blues. The old stuff.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I shall finish my big canvas. I don't want it. It will live in a dark corner.&lt;br /&gt;Played around with writing a song last night. Lovely it was. I seriously need to learn how to play the blues. Not boring twelve bar shit.&lt;br /&gt;I believe I have the will to make the most of tomorrow. I aim to be covered in paint by the end of it.&lt;br /&gt;Tonight though. Final Fantasy IX. Then probably The Hurt Locker.&lt;br /&gt;I want a finger slide. And a resonator guitar.&lt;br /&gt;I need to make a cigar box guitar. And a diddley bo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://moondogsbluesbar.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/sonhouse3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://moondogsbluesbar.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/sonhouse3.jpg" width="260" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-7915924311109749403?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/7915924311109749403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/short-sentences-they-rock.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7915924311109749403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7915924311109749403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/short-sentences-they-rock.html' title='Short sentences. They rock.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-2781996662963311433</id><published>2010-06-26T17:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T17:42:00.009+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Here we come!</title><content type='html'>I thought I wouldn't get The O.C. but I thought I would just see how much it was.&lt;br /&gt;Ten pounds later...&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I'm sure I wont just watch The O.C. and if that is all I do I might watch some outside in the sun. Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;What can you do?&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I want to be here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://michaelmurrayguitar.com/ManitobaFields.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://michaelmurrayguitar.com/ManitobaFields.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-2781996662963311433?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/2781996662963311433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/here-we-come.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2781996662963311433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2781996662963311433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/here-we-come.html' title='Here we come!'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-9155365805089159173</id><published>2010-06-25T18:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T18:12:59.517+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Collision theory in practice.</title><content type='html'>Overwhelming urge to watch The O.C. as I walked to work.&lt;br /&gt;I'd buy it, but then my summer will just involve that and nothing else.&lt;br /&gt;No, for now I shall settle with a picture of Ryan and listen to The Thrills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/6900000/Ryan-Atwood-the-oc-6906122-1024-768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/6900000/Ryan-Atwood-the-oc-6906122-1024-768.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/36Y9E2jIMWk&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/36Y9E2jIMWk&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-9155365805089159173?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/9155365805089159173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/collision-theory-in-practice.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/9155365805089159173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/9155365805089159173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/collision-theory-in-practice.html' title='Collision theory in practice.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-3420223406847843346</id><published>2010-06-24T20:07:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T20:07:22.484+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Gargan Roo.</title><content type='html'>The music here pleases me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-3420223406847843346?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/3420223406847843346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/gargan-roo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3420223406847843346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3420223406847843346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/gargan-roo.html' title='Gargan Roo.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-2109813019218199888</id><published>2010-06-23T22:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T22:20:05.852+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Realm of Eternal Rain</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Nhk41nxJ6ZA/SSrtvSc-tCI/AAAAAAAAAFY/_lZZ7UmC-8I/s1600/FFIX+Burmecia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Nhk41nxJ6ZA/SSrtvSc-tCI/AAAAAAAAAFY/_lZZ7UmC-8I/s320/FFIX+Burmecia.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I'd say that it reminds me of Buxton but there has been so little rain here for ages. I have had my job since November and I have literally walked there in the rain three times. A few more times walking back, but just three times. It's great.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;Now I am going to get caned by Beatrix.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll still love her.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-2109813019218199888?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/2109813019218199888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/realm-of-eternal-rain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2109813019218199888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2109813019218199888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/realm-of-eternal-rain.html' title='Realm of Eternal Rain'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Nhk41nxJ6ZA/SSrtvSc-tCI/AAAAAAAAAFY/_lZZ7UmC-8I/s72-c/FFIX+Burmecia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-7834557443814086963</id><published>2010-06-22T21:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T21:28:19.141+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Orange</title><content type='html'>It's later than I thought it was. Not that it makes any difference to me.&lt;br /&gt;Reservoir Dogs was the film of the day. Good film, but it could of kept the mystery of who that rat was for longer, but then if it did that then we wouldn't of got the other bits.&lt;br /&gt;It was good as it was.&lt;br /&gt;I fallen back into that Dan who does shit all. I get so bored but I don't want to do anything, not an easy situation.&lt;br /&gt;I just need to break the habit, form a routine and I'll be set.&lt;br /&gt;Or I could just play Final Fantasy IX all day and all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.finalfantasy.net/wallpaper/1024x768/1354-final-fantasy9-033-przfr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://www.finalfantasy.net/wallpaper/1024x768/1354-final-fantasy9-033-przfr.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-7834557443814086963?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/7834557443814086963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/mr-orange.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7834557443814086963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7834557443814086963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/mr-orange.html' title='Mr. Orange'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-4178595581985668427</id><published>2010-06-21T23:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T23:51:22.756+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Rise</title><content type='html'>Last night I found myself in the shoes of someone I swore I wouldn't become.&lt;br /&gt;I never saw it coming, and upon arrival I didn't really care and went along with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunny day today so I watched The Eye. Very asian, alright film.&lt;br /&gt;Then played guitar 'til my fingers were suitably cut up.&lt;br /&gt;Boredom sank in, and the music in The Eye made me think of Final Fantasy so I have stared number nine again.&lt;br /&gt;Best game ever.&lt;br /&gt;I spent the evening in the sun to make up for my day. I prefer the evening sun sometimes. Less harsh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GXVpjjpwNss&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GXVpjjpwNss&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-4178595581985668427?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/4178595581985668427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/rise.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4178595581985668427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4178595581985668427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/rise.html' title='Rise'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-7205435122402253351</id><published>2010-06-20T22:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T22:21:57.259+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Blue cheese and mushroom.</title><content type='html'>I think I might develop issues with food and where it comes from. Went out last night with my dad because his mother was over from Ireland. Bad times because this meant missing out on the work's do.&lt;br /&gt;Bad times because this meant spending time with them.&lt;br /&gt;First time I have been for weeks and I spent thirty hours there so that should warrant me not going for at least a month.&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, we went out to the Fallow Dear. Shittest of the shit. One of those brewery chain family pubs. Same menu nation wide so you now the food is merely heated up on premises. I looked at all the menu and couldn't help but think of work and how we all don't give a shit about the food. Everything we do is disgusting and I laugh at the people who buy it because I bet they eat it thinking it's good food. I promise they would not think that if they saw me making it.&lt;br /&gt;I was sure this place would be no different. Full of people who hate their jobs and laugh at the customers. The food was no good.&lt;br /&gt;Now I only want food if either I have made it, trust the person who has made it or it has come out of a good chefs kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;I don't think it's going to be some mega issue like OCD, but life was easier when you just get a plate of food and don't think about how it came to be. Easier, but I prefer it this way.&lt;br /&gt;Dad's mother is still annoying to the extreme. I was thinking to myself, "please die soon". Because I am a terrible person.&lt;br /&gt;I could list everything I hate but I know them already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news where death is not wished upon the people I dislike, no work 'til Thursday!&lt;br /&gt;It's gonna be bitchin'!&lt;br /&gt;And another thing, I had to leave the I hate Family Guy group. I watch it these days, I must say it's a riot. &amp;nbsp;Some bits try too hard and such, but most the time I'll chuckle the whole way through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-7205435122402253351?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/7205435122402253351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/blue-cheese-and-mushroom.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7205435122402253351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7205435122402253351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/blue-cheese-and-mushroom.html' title='Blue cheese and mushroom.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-6677751698501213485</id><published>2010-06-19T14:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T14:42:33.200+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I a lion?</title><content type='html'>Watching this, it has made me want to watch Firefly but this time to watch it purely for Simon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jyAmRfhdxZ8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jyAmRfhdxZ8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-6677751698501213485?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/6677751698501213485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/am-i-lion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/6677751698501213485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/6677751698501213485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/am-i-lion.html' title='Am I a lion?'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-5217298840509295176</id><published>2010-06-18T15:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T15:20:53.860+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch.</title><content type='html'>I'm beyond tired right now, I think I might of got two hours sleep last night.&lt;br /&gt;Every bit of me hurts from the party, falling asleep on a wooden floor, playing too much football and just my general aches.&lt;br /&gt;A bath may be in order.&lt;br /&gt;The party the other night was excellent. Though it did leave me thinking about someone that I probably shouldn't of been thinking of. And with things that have happened to me before, I think maybe my interruption of what can and can't be done has shifted. Hey ho.&lt;br /&gt;Excellent night though, just like the ones from years ago.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday involved little to begin with, then it involved football on the field with siblings. Then I walked to the park to play yet more football with friends.&lt;br /&gt;It was at this point I became quiet. I was having fun the night before with people, had fun playing with siblings, but there was too much man in the park, too much competitiveness and it got well fierce. My effort was nil by then.&lt;br /&gt;I hurt. Big time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-5217298840509295176?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/5217298840509295176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/ouch.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5217298840509295176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5217298840509295176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/ouch.html' title='Ouch.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-8986286032418646850</id><published>2010-06-17T22:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T22:24:20.974+01:00</updated><title type='text'>What a peculiar feeling.</title><content type='html'>My vices are still on the up.&lt;br /&gt;It's all good.&lt;br /&gt;It's late now, as in I have work in the morning, so I must be brief. Also I can neither type, nor string together a coherent and adult sentence.&lt;br /&gt;Shame because last night was great, though it poked around in some maybe not so good thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;Blah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-8986286032418646850?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/8986286032418646850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/what-peculiar-feeling.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8986286032418646850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8986286032418646850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/what-peculiar-feeling.html' title='What a peculiar feeling.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-3758803205056688217</id><published>2010-06-16T15:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T15:46:09.083+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Man is tethered, tied, bound. Spirit is free.</title><content type='html'>The most marvelous mood was had last night.&lt;br /&gt;Serenity.&lt;br /&gt;I felt disconnected from everything, my mind was thinking of nothing but how good nothing was. It was the evening and the sky was a glorious blue, then I saw the crescent of the moon and thought how The Whole of the Moon might of reflected my feeling.&lt;br /&gt;'Til I realised that, in fact, I was seeing the whole of the moon because I knew what mattered, and what mattered was nothing.&lt;br /&gt;It was as if my mind was brought home.&lt;br /&gt;I closed my eyes and felt like a spirit, not a being, and wanted to float away. I genuinely wanted to die it was so perfect, to die without a care and longing, oh it was beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;I felt like I had found my spirituality, not that I can pinpoint it.&lt;br /&gt;Buddhism is great to read about, but I think that is all I can do with it. It still feels too controlling, though it can explain that is my ego preventing me. But all religions have explanations for everything.&lt;br /&gt;No, I'll stick to myself I think.&lt;br /&gt;Last night I felt as if everything was one, just like the image I have of my misinformed idea of Gaia. I prefer the ideas from Final Fantasy than the actual mythology.&lt;br /&gt;Funny how all that stemmed from nicotine.&lt;br /&gt;You could say it was that that made me feel so, I however say it was just a proxy to calm my thoughts and in that calmness I brought my mind home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nUzLQ8xOa9Q&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nUzLQ8xOa9Q&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; white-space: normal;"&gt;Anywho, places to be, people to see, drink to drink. You know how it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-3758803205056688217?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/3758803205056688217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/man-is-tethered-tied-bound-spirit-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3758803205056688217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3758803205056688217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/man-is-tethered-tied-bound-spirit-is.html' title='Man is tethered, tied, bound. Spirit is free.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-4525756684995119898</id><published>2010-06-15T20:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T20:49:18.888+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Red-blooded, white skinned, oh and the blues</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://geopolicraticus.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/chris-mccandless.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://geopolicraticus.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/chris-mccandless.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-4525756684995119898?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/4525756684995119898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/red-blooded-white-skinned-oh-and-blues.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4525756684995119898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4525756684995119898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/red-blooded-white-skinned-oh-and-blues.html' title='Red-blooded, white skinned, oh and the blues'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-6666971457237723380</id><published>2010-06-14T22:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T22:40:12.053+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The longing.</title><content type='html'>It was a month ago, that passionate night.&lt;br /&gt;You swam in my soul, made me shout till my voice was no more.&lt;br /&gt;Took me to the highest high, and damn you, you let me me fall.&lt;br /&gt;But I damn myself for I still love you.&lt;br /&gt;I love you now, and I will love you forever.&lt;br /&gt;Third Eye Blind, I miss you dearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://indymusic.files.wordpress.com/2009/06/l_8023c39ec904a3a46caeea62e7fe2d90.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://indymusic.files.wordpress.com/2009/06/l_8023c39ec904a3a46caeea62e7fe2d90.jpg" width="206" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-6666971457237723380?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/6666971457237723380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/longing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/6666971457237723380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/6666971457237723380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/longing.html' title='The longing.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-4251085279807869453</id><published>2010-06-13T21:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T21:34:07.211+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I love my landlord.</title><content type='html'>He is great, quirky, but great.&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss him if he ever leaves, hopefully I'll be gone before that.&lt;br /&gt;I turned my absence of mood into a quick watercolour last night, and the process of putting my mood down made me melt back into myself.&lt;br /&gt;Today I finished my big canvas. I'm not happy with it, nor am I proud, but I'm glad I did it. I must sound like a dick all the time when I say I'm looking for my niche, but it's true - I think? It's been so long and it has only been this year where I have actually attempted art rather than copy pictures.&lt;br /&gt;I'll improve, and this is the only reason I keep going no matter how much shit I churn out.&lt;br /&gt;But today, I was sat with my guitar, played a progression while I sang some ideas I've had for lyrics. And my, it came out great. The ideas sounded cheesy on paper, but throwing them around out loud. This lyrical bombshell session was interrupted when I was asked if I wanted to go out for food. Of course, I went.&lt;br /&gt;Burritos. Then half my mothers chili and nachos.&lt;br /&gt;I hurt.&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention all the Corona and Magners.&lt;br /&gt;Then I whopped ass at pool, like amazingly so.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I hope to share some time with Rory, I have work in the afternoon so we shall see.&lt;br /&gt;Next week for work will be...I'm not sure. Five days, four of which are early ones so the week itself will fly by but the individual days will drag. But I do get Thursday off which means Wednesday night can be indulged to the extreme!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched to second half of the Germany and Australia game. It was good, Australia so deserved to score at least one goal for their effort, but the Germans deserved to win for the lush football. I hate football most the time, how it is just about money. The World Cup is refreshingly different, it's incredibly simple which makes it wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;I feel for Rob Green. I feel like I can relate because I used to play as goalkeeper in junior school and did other bits. I obviously have no clue, but part of me still feels like a goalkeeper as it is my favourite position.&lt;br /&gt;Talking of football, I have been requested for a football game in like two years time. Talk about love. Makes me feel awesome, almost as awesome when I was the only person who came close to scoring a goal in that radio game. It was beautiful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-4251085279807869453?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/4251085279807869453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-love-my-landlord.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4251085279807869453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4251085279807869453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-love-my-landlord.html' title='I love my landlord.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-8685685644557159494</id><published>2010-06-12T21:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T21:45:10.082+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Void</title><content type='html'>Earlier I felt completely absent of everything. Emotionless and complete indifference.&lt;br /&gt;I'd say it was a horrible feeling but, you know, lack of feelings.&lt;br /&gt;I'm coming back round to myself.&lt;br /&gt;I think it's all down to the point in time I am in.&lt;br /&gt;Or more likely, my life is literally complete after seeing Third Eye Blind and there is fuck all to do anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to do something now, no idea what, I just want to do something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-8685685644557159494?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/8685685644557159494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/void.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8685685644557159494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8685685644557159494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/void.html' title='Void'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-5661227487657142016</id><published>2010-06-11T19:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T19:28:50.403+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Beer, bath, bed.</title><content type='html'>The irony is that the day I have people to care about this, will be the day I don't have time for this.&lt;br /&gt;Is it irony? Who cares?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-5661227487657142016?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/5661227487657142016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/beer-bath-bed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5661227487657142016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5661227487657142016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/beer-bath-bed.html' title='Beer, bath, bed.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-5509714615912685820</id><published>2010-06-10T21:04:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T21:05:07.022+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Interruptions</title><content type='html'>The grey sky is breaking a little, and this reflects how I am feeling.&lt;br /&gt;Lets start from the start of the day. I got up at five because I thought I had work. I went all the way to work and I looked at the rota. Good thing because I saw the big word OFF. How embarrassing, going to work at six on my day off.&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't bad, I just got my jacket and went home and went back to bed.&lt;br /&gt;Slept for an extra couple of hours then got up for my unexpected day off.&lt;br /&gt;I jumped into DK2, not because I like it, because I hate it. I just wanted to finish it as soon as possible to be rid of it. And it was shockingly bad. Really sad because the first one was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;This one just made no sense, you'd turn a page and think there must be some pages missing because it didn't follow. Or a superhero would turn up for no reason, and there was no justification for why anyone was anywhere and why they were doing what they were doing.&lt;br /&gt;And the art! Miller can draw, he is good but he can't ink for shit. And then most the comic, it seems like he couldn't be arsed and everything is blocky and shit, rather than his raw style. And to make it worse, so much of it was just filled in on photoshop, but in the worst way possible. Using stupid effects that people use when they first get photoshop and think they are suddenly a graphic designer.&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what the story was, I think it was basically after the first novel, Batman went into hiding and built up an army ready to start a revolution because the government was bad. Except we see next to nothing of this government. Then the Justice League were there but they still worked for the government until Batman beat the shit out of Superman and opened his eyes. Sounds shit? Doesn't even cover it.&lt;br /&gt;It felt like it was written by a man slipping down the slope of madness. Maybe it made sense in his head, but he forgot to tell everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, what can you do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went into town afterwards and bought a canvas. I said I'd buy the biggest one in the shop, until I saw the biggest one, pussied out, and got the second biggest.&lt;br /&gt;Walk home was windy and fun. I was like a sail boat.&lt;br /&gt;Got home, took forever finding stuff, and then finally got down to painting. Half way through I remembered oils take a while to dry so I got the back ground sorted and now I wait.&lt;br /&gt;It's a pretty sweet background, it'll be a shame to cover most of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work tomorrow. For sure, I triple checked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-5509714615912685820?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/5509714615912685820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/interuptions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5509714615912685820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5509714615912685820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/interuptions.html' title='Interruptions'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-117736549579409120</id><published>2010-06-09T19:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T19:05:18.197+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to do nothing...</title><content type='html'>...and I want to do it forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I have been in the house too much.&lt;br /&gt;I've tried to fill my time but everything I touch keeps going wrong.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not losing heart but I'm so insanely bored.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I'm bursting with needs and wants to do things, but I'm stuck to the chair.&lt;br /&gt;I look forward to going to bed because I can wake up tomorrow fresh, sure I have work, but the afternoon is mine for the taking.&lt;br /&gt;How I wish my head was in one place and not several.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-117736549579409120?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/117736549579409120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-want-to-do-nothing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/117736549579409120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/117736549579409120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-want-to-do-nothing.html' title='I want to do nothing...'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-4718034968027407114</id><published>2010-06-08T23:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T00:37:18.547+01:00</updated><title type='text'>And I don't wish to taste of your insides.</title><content type='html'>This song is like crack at the moment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LO-zSxWRSVI&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LO-zSxWRSVI&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-4718034968027407114?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/4718034968027407114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/and-i-dont-wish-to-taste-of-your.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4718034968027407114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4718034968027407114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/and-i-dont-wish-to-taste-of-your.html' title='And I don&apos;t wish to taste of your insides.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-7741968953665992258</id><published>2010-06-07T21:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T21:46:19.782+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Bah!</title><content type='html'>Can't be arsed.&lt;br /&gt;But I did find the right picture of Bob Marley I shall do for a certain someone's certain birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://imagecache6.allposters.com/LRG/8/879/11IJ000Z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://imagecache6.allposters.com/LRG/8/879/11IJ000Z.jpg" width="255" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-7741968953665992258?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/7741968953665992258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/bah.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7741968953665992258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7741968953665992258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/bah.html' title='Bah!'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-3296977796376455899</id><published>2010-06-06T19:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T19:21:32.223+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Try again.</title><content type='html'>Another deleted post.&lt;br /&gt;First one was written this morning in the heat of anger.&lt;br /&gt;I then hid in my room and painted and as soon as I started I felt amazing.&lt;br /&gt;I know I am fickle, but I don't wear my heart on my sleeve. And my emotions a kept in check most the time.&lt;br /&gt;Despite this, the original bad mood, the reason behind it still stands, but most the bitterness was just all in the moment.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't finish my painting sadly, I wanted to but then I went for dinner and the pub and now I am pissed. Cheap champagne is the drink of choice at this moment.&lt;br /&gt;I'll finish my picture tomorrow morning as I don't have to be a work until three.&lt;br /&gt;And now I must carry on watching Soccer Aid. I'm not football fan but I was being drawn in at the pub and then I noticed Damian Lewis. And all the other people I love.&lt;br /&gt;Then Ewan McGregor popped up!&lt;br /&gt;How I love red haired men. And women too, of course, but those two men are two of my favourite people.&lt;br /&gt;As for the reason to why my hair is still red, pfft, who knows?&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, I shall have to re-do it next week. Needs livening up big time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-3296977796376455899?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/3296977796376455899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/try-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3296977796376455899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3296977796376455899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/try-again.html' title='Try again.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-8628310827218506691</id><published>2010-06-05T21:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T21:16:34.650+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bastard that is Dan.</title><content type='html'>Work was awful today. Just Anne and myself all morning when at weekends we have three people from midmorning onwards. We coped, we coped extremely well which is a credit to how awesome we are because if Rob had been there instead everything would be empty. Even now.&lt;br /&gt;It was Nina's last day today. I was singing Ding Dong the Witch is Dead all day yesterday. Today I was singing London Underground of all things. Nina is gone, and did I say goodbye, did I fuck!&lt;br /&gt;My mother came and saw me at work to tell me they were at the Wyebridge and I met them there after my shift. Walking there I saw a lonely woman having a lonely picnic and I laughed big time.&lt;br /&gt;If life is a test, I have surely failed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheese sweats.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not finding food at all appetising at the moment. Shit, maybe I'm pregnant!?!&lt;br /&gt;And now I shall listen to music all night long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FYVJSOFZxDE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FYVJSOFZxDE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-8628310827218506691?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/8628310827218506691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/bastard-that-is-dan.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8628310827218506691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8628310827218506691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/bastard-that-is-dan.html' title='The Bastard that is Dan.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-3978942321041954640</id><published>2010-06-04T21:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T21:06:49.572+01:00</updated><title type='text'>London is burnin'; don't tell the Queen.</title><content type='html'>I keep falling asleep everywhere. Next week can't come any sooner.&lt;br /&gt;I'd hope it's a sign of change but now it's summer and everyone will be having their holidays but me.&lt;br /&gt;Jokes on them because I'll be gone by the start of August.&lt;br /&gt;I need to by a huge canvas for next week. And when I say huge, I might go all out with my exaggeration and get a huge one.&lt;br /&gt;I shall call it Burning Streets because it shall be inspired by the song of the same name.&lt;br /&gt;I can only hope it comes out as beautiful as it looks in my head.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-3978942321041954640?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/3978942321041954640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/london-is-burnin-dont-tell-queen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3978942321041954640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3978942321041954640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/london-is-burnin-dont-tell-queen.html' title='London is burnin&apos;; don&apos;t tell the Queen.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-5920346732462868192</id><published>2010-06-03T22:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T22:09:47.370+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Loveliness</title><content type='html'>BBQ.&lt;br /&gt;Lots of drink.&lt;br /&gt;I worry about the day where I have to drink less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot how amazing internet compliments are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-5920346732462868192?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/5920346732462868192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/loveliness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5920346732462868192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/5920346732462868192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/loveliness.html' title='Loveliness'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-2322791726949791280</id><published>2010-06-02T22:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T22:26:45.063+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been watching the sky tonight, not Sky.</title><content type='html'>When I have a day where I do nothing, such as today, they don't go as well as they sound.&lt;br /&gt;When I say I do nothing, that is what gets done. I forgot to eat and drink when I watch too many films and then I get tired and then I get a headache.&lt;br /&gt;And now I feel my day has been somewhat of a waste, not completely though.&lt;br /&gt;With my many days off next week I shall do something worth while. I'll paint something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-2322791726949791280?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/2322791726949791280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/ive-been-watching-sky-tonight-not-sky.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2322791726949791280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2322791726949791280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/ive-been-watching-sky-tonight-not-sky.html' title='I&apos;ve been watching the sky tonight, not Sky.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-3530033079604435377</id><published>2010-06-01T22:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T22:10:16.459+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ever the optimist.</title><content type='html'>I'd probably call myself an optimist, but I have a way of being a humourous pessimist.&lt;br /&gt;Today I was feeling optimistic.&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;have this shirt, I've had&amp;nbsp;it a few years and I thought it's ship had sailed and it would no longer fit.&lt;br /&gt;Nope, fits better than ever before.&lt;br /&gt;Made me happy. Just like&amp;nbsp;that cider did.&lt;br /&gt;I'm drinking lots of the stuff lately, getting myself ready for my venture to the&amp;nbsp;West Country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the optimistic note. I always look at the rota hoping to see numerous "OFF"s. I looked at next weeks, and when my hopes were low I was rewarded with seeing a three day week.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so&amp;nbsp;fucking happy! Just three days in the worse&amp;nbsp;place in my world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-3530033079604435377?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/3530033079604435377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/ever-optimist.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3530033079604435377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3530033079604435377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/06/ever-optimist.html' title='Ever the optimist.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-7743785123684859259</id><published>2010-05-31T22:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T22:09:52.129+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The shop is shut, please fuck off.</title><content type='html'>I've been so fixated on leaving Morrisons I often forget the reasons to why I am leaving.&lt;br /&gt;They pop into my head and I get that excited feeling.&lt;br /&gt;In a matter of months I will be in a room with people almost as cool as me, learning awesome stuff. I'll be living in Somerset too.&lt;br /&gt;But in the excitement of these thoughts I then forget that I am leaving Buxton. This is not seen as a sad time, I can't say for sure what I will feel on the day I leave, but I'm happy about leaving.&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing here anyway, obviously not including friends and family but even then my friends are off to their universities. After that though, there is little here. It's nice enough, I take it in often, just yesterday in fact when I was sat in the big bay windows upstairs at the Clubhouse and I got to over look all the luscious trees in the warm sun. The buildings are very pretty in this town too.&lt;br /&gt;I can't help it, I'm attracted to change and new things.&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea where I want to live when I grow up. Probably near the sea, but there is nowhere in the UK that I find appealing and by the sea. Actually, I can't think of anywhere in this country where I'd like to live, it's all so horribly British.&lt;br /&gt;As I said, these are the thoughts that spend most the days suppressed by the giant that is me quitting my job.&lt;br /&gt;I might cry when I walk out for the last time from pure elation. Emotional breakdown in the car park.&lt;br /&gt;It really is that bad, for me anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favourite films have shifted again. The Dark Knight really is the best film of all time. It has everything in it that makes a great film great, and on top of that it has Batman.&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss the Joker. All good things in my life end; Firefly, Heath Ledger's Joker, Third Eye Blind gigs - all good things.&lt;br /&gt;This is my favourite bit of the whole film. This and the prologue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/TAQleKk76qI/AAAAAAAAAEw/4ors9nEJ__M/s1600/Picture+7.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="267" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/TAQleKk76qI/AAAAAAAAAEw/4ors9nEJ__M/s640/Picture+7.png" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-7743785123684859259?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/7743785123684859259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/shop-is-shut-please-fuck-off.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7743785123684859259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/7743785123684859259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/shop-is-shut-please-fuck-off.html' title='The shop is shut, please fuck off.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/TAQleKk76qI/AAAAAAAAAEw/4ors9nEJ__M/s72-c/Picture+7.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-2619367316230562633</id><published>2010-05-30T18:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T18:22:45.897+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Scarecrow, scarecrow, scarecrow.</title><content type='html'>Shit, that was a year ago?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forget how sad Batman Begins is. Well, I find it really sad at points. Poor Bruce. Poor Rachel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also forgotten to send some emails and letters. It's alright, I have time. I think...&lt;br /&gt;Ah, it'll be right as rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often daydream, today was no different. I was daydreaming about this person, and pretending we had been friends for ages. I forgot that this wasn't true and laughed at her.&lt;br /&gt;It didn't seem awkward, for she seemed somewhat crazy herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my Google ads today is called Comic Con Fans Dating. It tells me Geek 2 Geek is the site for me.&lt;br /&gt;What's worse, the internet deciding I am lonely, or the fact I find the girl in the picture hot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-2619367316230562633?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/2619367316230562633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/scarecrow-scarecrow-scarecrow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2619367316230562633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2619367316230562633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/scarecrow-scarecrow-scarecrow.html' title='Scarecrow, scarecrow, scarecrow.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-8798649016318369980</id><published>2010-05-29T20:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T20:38:51.774+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Every little bit hurts.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.listal.com/image/915563/500full-gary-oldman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://img.listal.com/image/915563/500full-gary-oldman.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Torn.&lt;br /&gt;Tv is shite tonight, more than normal so I'm in hiding and can't decide what film to watch.&lt;br /&gt;I finished The Dark Knight Returns earlier and thought I wanted Batman Begins, but then I thought I wanted The Dark Knight.&lt;br /&gt;Now I am thinking Leon.&lt;br /&gt;Each one stars Gary Oldman so whatever I chose, it'll be a winner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems like only yesterday I was writing my weeks hours, and now it's all over until Monday.&lt;br /&gt;It's been a killer. Caught up with me today, I got home, ate, slept, woke up, ate, read and now I am here and I want to sleep again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.buzzine.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/gary_oldman3_20080707.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="303" src="http://www.buzzine.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/gary_oldman3_20080707.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I'm not getting up tomorrow until at least dinner time, I shall force the sleep on myself if needs be but I'm pretty sure that wont be necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good news. My sisters guinea pigs got taken to the vet to be put down.&lt;br /&gt;It's good because it needed to happen. Their lives were just a sad and painful existence.&lt;br /&gt;It's also sad that when people can't be bothered with pets they can just have them knocked off for a fee.&lt;br /&gt;This is sorta the case this time round too. My sister didn't care about them no matter what she said. From day one she has been constantly been told to look after them, feed them and clean them out. She'd just go out and forget to feed them and wouldn't tell anyone to do it for her. She picked them up about three times. Despite this she still was adamant that she did actually want them and they weren't a hinderance.&lt;br /&gt;Ignoring this though, putting them down was humane as they were covered in soars. I knew them were a bit patchy and had scabs but they just kept getting worse and I only noticed how bad when I was doing a sculpture outside and they would cry from pain all the time because they had to itch the soars.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a pet fan but it broke my heart. For a couple of weeks I took it upon myself to give them some love, tried to get them used to people and put some antiseptic on them. It was rewarding but they were not my responsibility and I have my own things to do.&lt;br /&gt;This is why I don't want pets. I know that my attention span would fail them, and I wouldn't love them but find them an annoying waste of my resources.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe this will change one day, say if I had a family, then I would already have roots and responsibility so a pet would fit in, right at home you could say. Even then, I still see myself with a fish or a tortoise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fAWfVDs8HdA&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fAWfVDs8HdA&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-8798649016318369980?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/8798649016318369980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/every-little-bit-hurts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8798649016318369980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8798649016318369980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/every-little-bit-hurts.html' title='Every little bit hurts.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-4357159976378944637</id><published>2010-05-28T19:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T19:10:49.203+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Green shoes.</title><content type='html'>Twelve hours later, Dan returns home.&lt;br /&gt;I knew I would be doing some extra hours, but a twelve hour day?!? Flew by though, Oven Fresh went faster than usual as I haven't done an early there for about a week, and FFPP flew by in minutes with it being new and there is always something to do.&lt;br /&gt;Only did I feel the effects walking home and my legs felt like they were about to pop.&lt;br /&gt;Now blood...yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm going to die in a corner with a curry and Batman. Then a beautiful bath is in order and then I shall sleep. I'd like to watch a film or some tv in bed but I'm sure I'll be too tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was not at all a good post. Just a retelling of my day.&lt;br /&gt;Oops.&lt;br /&gt;I have learnt something, not everyone who works in a supermarket is a failure at life. Most people seem to be there because it's a job. They get the job and they are happy to have an income so remain there.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is nice there too, I will miss them. Not the managers, I look forward to my heartless goodbye to them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-4357159976378944637?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/4357159976378944637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/green-shoes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4357159976378944637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4357159976378944637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/green-shoes.html' title='Green shoes.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-1641996159514613874</id><published>2010-05-27T20:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T20:54:04.063+01:00</updated><title type='text'>My new book smells delicious.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://moviesmedia.ign.com/movies/image/article/592/592532/jacket-the-20050302024445199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="242" src="http://moviesmedia.ign.com/movies/image/article/592/592532/jacket-the-20050302024445199.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I got round to watching The Jacket today. I've wanted to see it since before it came out in the cinema because I got some free advertising merchandise from the film.&lt;br /&gt;It was good, I thought it may of been hit and miss, but it wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;And it's a good film to compliment the recent Lost finale with time travel and alternate universes.&lt;br /&gt;It set a good atmosphere for itself to begin with, made it feel like an old psychological thriller but then as it went on it threw in more modern takes.&lt;br /&gt;And a happy ending for once, he died and remained in the future world. Or did he? Maybe he was actually crazy all along and nothing was true. All a figment of his broken imagination.&lt;br /&gt;Like I said, complimented Lost greatly. That's good for me because I do sorely miss it.&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing now, Lost is over forever, Deadliest Catch season is finished, True Blood season is finished. No Dexter, no CSI. Firefly...All I have at the moment is Castle.&lt;br /&gt;One single hour of tv a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up is still a surreal thing. Drinks last night with friends and we all talked about work, and careers. I feel like I should still be talking about these things like they are far off, but they are happening now.&lt;br /&gt;There is no grand defining moments, it all just merges slowly together without any knowledge of it occurring.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how I feel about this. A childhood leading to no grand point of coming of age, but maybe I like it this way, how it just happens. Falls into place naturally.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-1641996159514613874?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/1641996159514613874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-new-book-smells-delicious.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/1641996159514613874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/1641996159514613874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-new-book-smells-delicious.html' title='My new book smells delicious.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-8347638839528570220</id><published>2010-05-26T23:58:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T00:05:24.781+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Torn fantasies.</title><content type='html'>Nothing like walking home with a pizza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life though. The stress in this house is something. None of it mine, and none of it makes me stressed, it's just annoying how people make things hard for themselves and then because of that make it ten times harder.&lt;br /&gt;House is being valued tomorrow, something about moving the mortgage. I don't listen to when people talk.&lt;br /&gt;My room was fine, but my mum decided to clean it. I hate every inch of this room now.&lt;br /&gt;Childish much? Extremely so.&lt;br /&gt;I take pride in moving things back to where they belong and making things look lived in.&lt;br /&gt;My whole room just looks dead and empty and void of character. Funny though because I have little to no sentiment about my room. It's confining and no longer represents who I am, but that said it is mine and it has been invaded.&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait until I leave. A new room, new people, just new everything. I've wanted it for so long and now it is going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;When I go I feel I will be a calmer person. Not that I am not a calm person now, I just have to vent my rage in silence and bite my tongue occasionally.&lt;br /&gt;I look forward to the freedom in every sense of the word.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-8347638839528570220?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/8347638839528570220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/torn-fantasies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8347638839528570220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/8347638839528570220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/torn-fantasies.html' title='Torn fantasies.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-3130949474288956354</id><published>2010-05-25T18:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T18:40:35.952+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pizza Girl.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;I'm blatantly picking the right career. I flicked How It's Made on for some background tv this morning and of all the things it decided to show me special effects make up. Just making an elderly face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;They then said it takes a month of work and costs ten thousand euros. Sweet!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Bizarre ER is my new favourite. It's both gross and funny, suits me to a tee.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;And some of the reconstructions they do are priceless. I really, really want to make one.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;object height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HJQbV7gtUcA&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HJQbV7gtUcA&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Now here is a song, completely different to Coma Girl.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;I was going through town to get some food.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;I was thinking about whether to have pasta or pizza.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;At first I got real dizzy with hunger and beer,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;and then I saw the pizza girl and I knew what I wanted.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;And the food came in from the wide blue yonder.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;And through all the cheeses I wandered.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pizza girl with parmesan and pepper,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;she's the Mona Lisa of the pizzeria.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pizza girl, Pizza girl!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"&gt;Gosh, now I want pizza. Lucky for me, I'm going out for some right now!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-3130949474288956354?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/3130949474288956354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/pizza-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3130949474288956354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/3130949474288956354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/pizza-girl.html' title='Pizza Girl.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-1444427545139850679</id><published>2010-05-24T17:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T17:46:26.358+01:00</updated><title type='text'>You don't know what you've Lost until it's gone.</title><content type='html'>Me legs are solid today, solid with aches. And I recently found some aches in my ribs. Not a clue to why this is so because it's not like I did any hard work the other evening. And last night was a walk to lie in the park.&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to rejuvenate my Sin City and Transmetropolitan piles and I also need to get the other two "Big Music" albums by The Waterboys.&lt;br /&gt;Yet today I decided to sit in the sun and start reading The Dark Knight Returns again because it is truly beautiful. This then made me order the sequel to it and some other books so that when I finish it I can read DK2 while everything is fresh.&lt;br /&gt;Not sure what to expect from it because never before has the comment mixed reviews been more fitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://blogs.pioneerlocal.com/entertainment/lostfinale-theend.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://blogs.pioneerlocal.com/entertainment/lostfinale-theend.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more Lost for Dan. I loved it from the start, then by season three I was a creature of habit rather than love. Season five didn't get the attention it deserved from me because I used to sit on msn while watching tv and films. Now I don't, my sister has that role now. While on that subject, it would seem I taught her well, but not well enough because she fell out with her best friend about her best friends boyfriend (or for the younger audience, she fell out with her bff over her bff's bf). Post that drama, guess who has a boyfriend? My sister, and guess who it is? Her ex-best friends ex!&lt;br /&gt;I had to laugh. I may of even said it wouldn't last. I can't help it, as I said, I find teenage life hilariously tragic.&lt;br /&gt;But back to what matters, Lost.&lt;br /&gt;Season six started with me thinking a weight would be lifted once it ended because it would be over and I wouldn't need to keep watching.&lt;br /&gt;What a finale! I was hoping for ambiguity and unanswered questions but with it being such a phenomenon my brain did not think this would be so.&lt;br /&gt;My hopes were rewarded big time. I called the final image and got it right, though it was pretty obvious as the show has a lot of eye opening in it, it started with Jack opening his eyes so of course it would only make sense for it to end with Jack closing his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;The ending lead you towards certain answers but there are still a million blanks to fill in and think about. Like Ben. He was my favourite, after Charlie and Claire. Ben though, he was there in the sideways reality so does that mean he had died? He didn't go into the church though, so he might of still been alive. Hugo was in the Church though so that possibly means he was dead and if so I bet he gave the Island to Ben to look after. Nothing is clear cut, this is just one of the many theories I shall be thinking about and reading about on the internet for a while yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lostisagame.com/photos/312/312_picnic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="188" src="http://www.lostisagame.com/photos/312/312_picnic.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It was an emotional two hours for me, I think I cried when every couple got back together, especially Claire and Charlie. They are the cutest thing ever.&lt;br /&gt;I'm also pleased that everything that happened did actually happen, that none of it was some dream or purgatory. Except for the sideways reality which is heavily indicated to be an after life.&lt;br /&gt;Despite my mixed feelings for the show over the last six years, after that finale I am going to miss it lots. I just want to be in that happy place forever where everyone found each other and radiated warm feelings in every direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;And I swear it shows&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;Heaven must be just like this&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;I love this song as it is, makes me thing of glorious, sunny days like this one. Or beautiful evenings like last night. It's endless sky and golden sun captured in a single song, but now it will also make me thing of that beautiful after life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/R_KwgEKGjd8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/R_KwgEKGjd8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-1444427545139850679?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/1444427545139850679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/you-dont-know-what-youve-lost-until-its.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/1444427545139850679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/1444427545139850679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/you-dont-know-what-youve-lost-until-its.html' title='You don&apos;t know what you&apos;ve Lost until it&apos;s gone.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-4181581604620239041</id><published>2010-05-23T23:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T23:01:48.172+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I wont call this "Park Life".</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Work was sweaty but looking back I did absolutley nothing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Home for a cold shower and frood grabbing before going to get merry in the park. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Was good times. Good company and good talks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Football happened but my input was abuse/encouragement from the side lines. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Sadly, things petered out at ten and folk went home. I could of sat there all night. &lt;/div&gt;Summer is young. &lt;br /&gt;But when I think about it, it's going to be gone quick. May is almost up then we only have June and July because Agust involves job quitting, jet setting and new life packing. &lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;I'm glad I'm not the only person who hates people who use say the stupid "nom nom" thing. I shudder typing it now. My sister hates it too, Bev that is, we discussed this and how I want to punch all who say it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Internet slang pisses me off no end. People use lol like a fullstop. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;It's a shame you can't heacbutt someone over the internet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;I have so much hate in me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;I'm capable of love though, like I love Sullivan Street by Tammany Hall NYC. The coda is second to Back in the Bottle and if Back in the Bottle were negligible then it is second to none. &lt;/div&gt;But I can't share this love with you for they are too cool for you. And they aren't on YouTube appart from a couple of songs. For the best really, I am always pressing my muscial taste on people but weary to share the sound of what I like. I don't want people to say they hate it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Anywho...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sullivanstreetpress.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/sullivanstreetcrop2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" gu="true" height="203" src="http://www.sullivanstreetpress.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/sullivanstreetcrop2.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-4181581604620239041?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/4181581604620239041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-wont-call-this-park-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4181581604620239041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/4181581604620239041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-wont-call-this-park-life.html' title='I wont call this &quot;Park Life&quot;.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-9171582660415602692</id><published>2010-05-22T21:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T21:00:12.512+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tomorrow morning.</title><content type='html'>My prediction came to be true. EELS are doing a tour. The fourth of September he shall be in Manchester.&lt;br /&gt;My course says it starts on the first, but on their computer or some sheet of paper I saw the fifteenth of September. Whatever it be I shall get a ticket and see what I can do about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was warm yesterday but today I was even closer to death. I don't mind sweating buckets if I am lying down doing jack shit. Well sweating is ten times better if you are not wearing a shirt and a hat.&lt;br /&gt;The sun is nothing to complain about it, walking home was a task and straight away I had a cold shower. Then I embraced the afternoon, sat out with Transmetropolitan and my iPod, then traded in the book for Rory. Then I may of fallen asleep for a bit. Glorious!&lt;br /&gt;Getting up stupid early is so worthwhile. If I worked business hours I would get up at a reasonable time but I would miss the morning and the afternoon and just have the evening for myself. Nope, this way I get the whole day to myself more or less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First barbeque of the year tonight. Lots of meat and beer, I feel suitably manly and suitably drunk.&lt;br /&gt;And tired.&lt;br /&gt;Lie in tomorrow and I think tomorrow will be easy. Next week, that looks forgiving. Just two early starts and the rest appear to dodge set ups and close downs.&lt;br /&gt;We get another new guy. I can't remember if I said that the weird guy is leaving already. Full time job in IT or something, so evidently he is a capable human being even if he gives off the impression of living with his mother and having an empty resumé.&lt;br /&gt;This is why I doubt myself when I read my buddhist book. I have little compassion about certain things. I judge too much. All these things can be explained by Buddhism, but I might feel lost without them.&lt;br /&gt;But that too would then be explained, the ego is a selfish being.&lt;br /&gt;The big one though is I would need peers and a master but I don't trust any in the West. I'm fearful for good reason so I have read.&lt;br /&gt;It's like tattoos, watching Miami Ink has made me think that that is the only parlour for me. I feel the East is the only place to find that true lineage of teachings.&lt;br /&gt;I must sound like a complete dick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-9171582660415602692?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/9171582660415602692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/tomorrow-morning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/9171582660415602692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/9171582660415602692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/tomorrow-morning.html' title='Tomorrow morning.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-1793850510779119181</id><published>2010-05-21T21:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T21:34:24.573+01:00</updated><title type='text'>It would be a stronger world, a stronger loving world, to die in.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.watchmenmovieposters.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/watchmen_movie_review1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.watchmenmovieposters.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/watchmen_movie_review1.jpg" width="254" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;In a contrast to yesterday, today is not making a clear indication to it's soundtrack. Maybe by the end of this I will have a better idea.&lt;br /&gt;So then, I just about died at work it was that hot. I was happy to go round the back and work because it was lovely and cool. It wasn't a bad day as I got to hide away for the most of it. It was also more easy going that usual, maybe the managers knew that no matter what we did we couldn't keep up with the stupid amount of people.&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe it was summer in the air making everyone happy and care free.&lt;br /&gt;I thought Rochelle was pregnant but there was no sign and I hadn't heard the news for sure. Then after my week off she got fat big time. Not fat, maybe that's mean, she got big anyway.&lt;br /&gt;My feelings are mixed towards her. She's so nice to me and talks to me like an equal, and will talk about other people to me and discuss how shit they are. She never blames me for anything either.&lt;br /&gt;This said, she's not the best line manager in the world. She'll piss me off with stupid requests and only sees half of the picture. Like looking at a clock to see the time and forgetting about all the cogs that are providing you with the time.&lt;br /&gt;Still, it's always good to have allies in high places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I found my Russian navy top and have been living in it ever since. It wasn't comfy when I first got it but now it's the bee's knees.&lt;br /&gt;Finally got round to getting a pot and some compost to move my pumpkin plant outside. This RL Farmville may take longer but it's far more rewarding. I do hope my pumpkin doesn't die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.24ways.org/2007/14/watchmen_03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="312" src="http://media.24ways.org/2007/14/watchmen_03.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Watchmen.&lt;br /&gt;Wow.&lt;br /&gt;Up until the last chapter it's a good comic, a great story and characters with minor characters thrown in as a foil. Is it a foil? I can't remember, anyway, things thrown in to make you draw similarities and comparisons. And then their is a comic within itself which bridges itself with the story in a not so subtle way, but I liked it. It was just the art. It feels flat and generic. Colour wasn't controlled either I thought, the pallet it wide throughout. Yeah, in some parts it's restricted to convey moods and a characters psyche.&lt;br /&gt;But there were many parts which pleased me greatly.&lt;br /&gt;This was all until the final chapter. Just wow.&lt;br /&gt;The big showdown. You have been following the heroes, and here they are ready to take out the villain. But wait, in the grand scheme of things the villain is the hero. The moral dilemmas!&lt;br /&gt;I still don't know which side of the fence I am on about it.&lt;br /&gt;I look forward to reading it again as it is very clever.&lt;br /&gt;I think it will also go into my wall of fame for books.&lt;br /&gt;The whole Cold War period must of been something to live in. Not good, far from it, but I read things from that era and watch things and they are marvelous. The tension was obviously inspiring for people.&lt;br /&gt;But not a good time for actually living, I assume, and I'm happy that World War Three did not occur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, UCAS is all done and dusted. My time with it was very short and very sweet. Unconditional offer, what a surprise.&lt;br /&gt;Despite how well everything seemed to work I still had that bit of me expecting doom and gloom.&lt;br /&gt;I should have confidence!&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting more of the stuff I think as reading The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying seems to be pushing me closer to the edge, ready to take that leap of faith.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I will.&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to.&lt;br /&gt;But yes, things have all worked out on their own accord. It's beginning to feel all the more real.&lt;br /&gt;No nerves, just excitement. It's going to be a ball!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-1793850510779119181?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/1793850510779119181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/it-would-be-stronger-world-stronger.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/1793850510779119181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/1793850510779119181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/it-would-be-stronger-world-stronger.html' title='It would be a stronger world, a stronger loving world, to die in.'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5426209582108879920.post-2754668788688966589</id><published>2010-05-20T20:44:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T20:45:39.327+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I am el hombre lobo!</title><content type='html'>This morning was a sad one. No grand reasons for it.&lt;br /&gt;At work when I am doing some repetitive task I tune out of everything around me. Sometimes I notice that I'm doing this and have a good old think about whatever comes into my mind. A sort of meditation if you will.&lt;br /&gt;I must of looked a right pathetic sight if anyone had walked into the back room and seen me.&lt;br /&gt;But as soon as the clock said one I was gone.&lt;br /&gt;And I walk out and I'm the happiest person on the Earth. It was so warm and I knew what this day was. It was a Hombre Lobo day (EELS album, why I bother saying though). I have never before decided that album should belong to a day, but as soon as I was outside I knew it was the only one for this particular day.&lt;br /&gt;I thought about sitting in the grass with Rory, but by the time I was home and had sat down, many hours had passed with me trying to muster the energy and will to climb two flights of stairs. In reflection, this was a bad move. I'm sure that tomorrow will be another warm day so I shall embrace it twice as hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been looking at my walls for a few weeks deciding what I want to keep. My Comedian scroll and Goo Goo Dolls poster is pretty much it. Recent events have also made me think that I am glad not to be a teenager anymore. Yes, technically I still am but I am way past the ridiculous adolescent years.&lt;br /&gt;My sister had a load of friends round the other day. I looked at none of them in the face and decided I hated each and everyone of them. It was fine while they were up in her room and out the way, but then they came down while I was being the epitome of cool watching Deadliest Catch.&lt;br /&gt;Gouging my eyes out would of been more pleasurable.&lt;br /&gt;They didn't do anything though, just the presence was enough to infuriate me.&lt;br /&gt;Just being teenagers. Having stupid opinions with no base on truth. One of them thought of herself as a scientist and that Stephen Hawkins was her role model. Then they all seemed to be in agreement that Adolf Hitler was a genius! I can only guess they had history on that day and learnt something new and then decided that they knew everything. What dicks!&lt;br /&gt;I was just like that too, I'd like to think I wasn't as bad and I know for sure I wasn't some lame emo, but I was still too big for my boots.&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, to link back, I have been looking at my walls and none of it appeals to me anymore. I don't think I have anything left of teenage Dan anymore. I like it.&lt;br /&gt;I know why they say the school years are the best years of your life, but I can't say I look back with an affectionate heart. I don't look back and hate it either.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, whist I remember and because it links just perfect, two of my teenage dreams have come true. If they had happened when I was fourteen I would of died and gone to heaven. I'm nineteen and I don't care one bit.&lt;br /&gt;I must sound so cynical.&lt;br /&gt;If only you could hear the tone of voice I use. I'm not bitter, at least not always, I just can't stop the thought train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may go finish reading Watchmen now. It's been good.&lt;br /&gt;Just good.&lt;br /&gt;I feel the art lets it down.&lt;br /&gt;And that it takes a spectacular book for me to use the adjective great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aCf595qdw2Y&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aCf595qdw2Y&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="25"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5426209582108879920-2754668788688966589?l=laststop-thistown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/feeds/2754668788688966589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-am-el-hombre-lobo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2754668788688966589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5426209582108879920/posts/default/2754668788688966589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laststop-thistown.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-am-el-hombre-lobo.html' title='I am el hombre lobo!'/><author><name>Dan  Roberts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13414809187055832525</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tBHeMFyEERE/SyfT7_CNyhI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6Dzb4uDISVM/S220/images.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
