All the years I’ve been using vi as my main editor and I’ve only just discoverd the joy of macros. Doh! All these years I could have been building up a personal armoury of useful vi tools and instead I’ve been typing out the hard way. Honestly, what a wanker.

Talking of arms, the filth have announced a new gun amnesty in march. During this period you may give up any guns you own without risking legal action for posession. This normally results in many, many people handing Grandad’s Luger, or Uncle Nick’s MP5, over to the police. So I have to wonder why there is an end date to the amnesty ? If people want to give up their weapons, and they obviously do, why end the amnesty ? What happens if you try to submit your AK on the day after the amnesty ?
“Sorry sir, I’m afraid the amnesty’s over now – whilst we appreciate your public spiritedness we are legally obliged to bang you up. Tell you what, if I pretend I never saw you, perhaps you could dispose of it yourself. Dump it in the river maybe, or sell it to some children on the estate – and I’ll say no more about it”.

Saturday night – PARTY NIGHT!
Michele is out up the pub with Shiney and I’m sat here writing this. At home. On the computer (teapot). In the dark. On my own. On a saturday night.
How sad am I ?
Well….not very in fact. I actually enjoy it.
One of the best things about being grown-up is the honesty we can afford ourselves. Many years ago the pressure to “go out and enjoy yorself” would have forced me to go out on a saturday night to somewhere I didn’t really want to be and drink too much.
Nowdays I’m happy enough to stay at home and ignore those lying bastard voices in my head that tell me life is better up the pub on a saturday night. It isn’t, it never will be and never was…well probably. Saturday is the crappest night to go out – it’s amateurs night. All these twats come out who only go out one night a week. They don’t drink too much on normal week nights – only the weekend. For the professional drinker such as me, this is a pain in the arse. They get pissed, get stroppy and get depserate. Don’t get me wrong, I love going out up the pub. I do it a lot – but saturday nights can fuck right off. So many times I’ve gone up the pub, not because I wanted to, but because I thought I should. Each time it was ok…sometimes it was good…but then sometimes it was crap. Either way it would have been better, easier, and cheaper not to have bothered. That feeling like I was “missing out” used to tear me apart. Knowing that not going out I was missing out on vital social events felt harsh – until I realised that it makes not one sodsworth of difference. OK, I admit that when you are single it can make a difference – but then that is the point isn’t it ? Isn’t that why we go to the clubs and pubs ?
For men it’s the opportunity to get your feathers seen and (in an ideal world) spread your seed. For women it is the chance to choose the perfect sperm to breed with. Don’t you fucking dare call me sexist… we’re all animals. You may interpret flirting as “a bit of fun” or “making me feel attractive” but it all comes down to animal passions. We like to think we’re more sophisticated than that – but we’re not. People can intellectulise it all they like, but in reality it all reduces down to nature and reproduction. We’re no more in control of our actions than birds, dogs and monkeys.
Hey look – I’ve had a couple of bottles of wine and am rambling. I’m sorry. Why not download some blakes 7, some funky tunes,light a scented candle, drink some wine, and drift off to sleep being stimulated by 4 out of 5 of your senses.