Habit

He hurries in from the cold,shakes his overcoat from his shoulders and hangs it, then his hat, on the bentwood coat stand. He warms his hands on the radiator, crosses the living room to the hi-fi. Bending down he flick-flacks quickly through the LPs, and in practised movement slides an album from its sleeve and onto the deck. The familiar static clunk as he drops the needle. To the kitchen now. A glug of deep red wine, a solid slab of cheese, a torn chunk of bread and back to his chair. He uses the plate to clear space on the low table at his side, glasses and dishes from previous evenings clink as they slide across the grain. A …

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ISTC website

My plan for the early part of next week is to start making updates to content on the ISTC website. However, like all plans, it’s already had a curveball thrown at it in that the website was built using DreamWeaver a tool I am neither familiar with, nor fond of. Regardless, I’ll muddle through. It’s an odd thing, taking over something that someone else has worked on for so long and I’m treading carefully at the moment. Thankfully there are several people who’ve said they’ll help out and, as we roll into 2011, I’m hoping the website will be in a much better place, serving both members and new visitors alike. Looking around at other professional organisation websites, there are …

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Random thought of the day

I was at the Skunk Anansie gig last night and there were a lot of tattoos on display. A lot of them on women including one full lower arm piece. It got me thinking. To have a large piece of ink on display, pretty much all the time, takes an attitude and lifestyle but which came first? Was the “I don’t care what anyone thinks” attitude always there? Or was the tattoo part of gaining that attitude? Doubtless it was somewhere in-between but is there something there about being able to develop a mindset that maybe is sometimes hidden? A way of making a bold decision to make (force?) a change in your personality? I think that it can take …

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Upcoming

Just been checking my calendar. 12th Nov – Tonight, out for food and drinks. 13th Nov – Tomorrow, hand in registration form at new doctor, go discuss idea for next tattoo with artist. 14th Nov – Sunday, early start at IKEA, then the building of various pieces of furniture whilst watching F1. 15th Nov – Monday evening, Skunk Anansie at the O2 Academy. 16th Nov – Tuesday evening, Kele at the Arches. 17th Nov – Wednesday evening, start work for website design for client. 18th Nov – Thursday evening, gym induction (tbc). 19th Nov – Friday evening, pizza and movie night (the first, of many?). 20th Nov – Saturday, out for lunch/drinks/munchies. 21st Nov – Sunday evening, Caribou, Four Tet, …

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Do you do PR?

I’m writing this whilst it is still fairly fresh (and only addled by a couple, ok ok, three pints of Guinness)… At the ISTC West of Scotland Area Group meeting last night talk turned to the fairly common topic of “no-one knows what we do”. There was some chat about the value we can bring but, frequently, documentation is still seen as a “tick in the box”, a necessary evil or, even worse, an apathetic acceptance even though no-one else in the company quite knows why we exist other than the fact that we do. I had made a point earlier about selling ourselves, marketing our services and capabilities and once again it seems obvious that, and I acknowledge that …

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Alright me Babber

I was in Brizzle on Friday, I mean Bristol. It was a bit damp, but that didn’t matter as I was there for the wedding of a wonderful woman called Ann and a rather charming man called Karl. I had some time to myself during the day, and wandered round the harbour area, avoiding the drizzle as best I could. It’s a nice place, from what I saw of it, and the people are really friendly. I’m sure it’s even nicer in the sunshine! The wedding itself was one of the better weddings I’ve attended, not least for the company, many of whom were bloggers, more of whom were Twitterers (Twittees?), and all of whom were friendly, funny and most …

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One for my Dad

Apparently I’ve not been blogging much. My Dad commented on this last night when I phoned so I thought I’d post a wee update for all my tens of avid readers. Not much is happening. I’m working. I have no internets. I will not have internets until November 23rd. In a royal cock up between O2 (with whom I’d like to have both my home phone and broadband services) and BT OpenReach (the engineer part of BT, the only people allowed to touch the exchange, apparently), I managed to have my new home phone number wrongly allocated to someone else (by BT). That bit was funny actually. I got a txt from O2 to say my phone line was now …

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One step at a time

The flat is slowly taking shape. I’ve a few furniture purchases to make, several bookcases (white, although I may paint the backgrounds) and some bedroom furniture which will include two red bedside tables and a yet to be decided colour of chests of drawers (built-in wardrobes FTW!), a small bookcase/unit for the hall, a TV unit and possibly a low unit or two for under the windows in the living room. Aside from that I need to buy frames. I seem to have purchased a few prints/letterpress art and have nothing to put them in. I’m also not sure what will go where yet and don’t really want to decide until I get the bookcases into the living room and …

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Happily lost

The heavy staccato, the ponderous, throbbing heartbeat, pulsating through their every pore, filling them completely. They are beholden to it, quick to relinquish control, released into it, devoured, immersed, completely lost to each pulse, every melody. All around them the closed eyes of their brothers and sisters cry out, silence roars from deafened mouths as torsos twist in grotesque beauty. The air fills with animal noise, the lust flashes and fades, whilst the gentle sheen of bodies in movement, syncopated in their desires, oblivious to the world, continues to move. There is no time in this place, no walls or ceiling, the floor rendered in booming sonic waves, the smoke machines billow and bloom, false clouds ripped apart by light …

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