So I haven't really been that good at blogging lately have I?
I'm not ashamed to say that my writing history is somewhat like a middle aged woman: changing in looks only for the worse and havings bits removed from the middle when something starts to grumble, and then denying why and what has been done to anyone who asks - only to mumble "I had some threats" under my breath when I'm pushed.
So let's be clear about what's going to happen, instead of faffing around for a few weeks pretending I'm still here while feeding you all a few tiny little bits of some uninteresting life, I'm going to take a proper, official holiday from not blogging - a period of time where I won't blog. Somewhat like when pensioners go on holiday 'to get away from it all' I'm going to carry on doing what I've been doing before but without...well, without actually doing anything.
This holiday shall last until the 9th August 2010. On the 9th, there'll be a spanking new post here for you - and then on the 10th there'll be another. Another on the 11th, and - well - you get the theme. Until the next time I say something offensive and get asked to remove it, have a strop and delete the lot. So there.
I am Nic Parkes, and this is my blog. Here, you'll find anything that interests me or gets on my nerves. From big yellow buses that run on chip fat, through little exercises into being clinically vague, to a degree in English Language & Media at Brighton Uni - the only thing you can count on is that there'll be an opinion somewhere along the way.
A proper official holiday
Site News | Tuesday, 20 July | Respond
It's time
Site News | Wednesday, 05 May | Respond
To quote Victoria Wood, as I often do.... "Hello!"
This is a bit awkward. I'm not totally sure what to say now, and there I've gone and grabbed everyone's attention.
It's been a while since we've exchanged packets and you've heard me say anything hasn't it? I don't think we need dwell on the reasons why I haven't been around on the Internet, because that's much-discussed by people who need to care, and by those who don't - and I think it's safe to say that while some of the things said and exchanged are true, others are not, and the importance of some of the truths and some of the lies are even less factual.
It's the third time that I've had an issue like this in my life - the first, of course, being with George Galloway MEP, the second with someone rather less important who was offended at my over-use of the word 'shit', and the third with an unknown who had assumed. I've certainly not got to say that I've benefitted a lot from any of these situations - because I'm always left feeling like I should do more. Alas, I have accepted that I cannot. So we must move onwards.
To have actually managed to get to this stage in this piece of writing is reasonably difficult. Since, whenever I set out to write a blog in the past I've had an actual thing to discuss.
This time, though, things are a bit different - and I feel a little bit like I should just be doing some sort of housekeeping? I feel as if I should reel of a list of things I've done over the past 5 months that are significant enough to tell you; I feel as if I should somehow be compelled to have had a slightly more interesting life so that I can stick to the facts and just tell it you straight. In all honesty, I haven't. I've had a hell of a lot of fun over the past five months - all of it far too fun, fast, and uninteresting to tell you about.
I feel somewhat like I've come back to work after being off for a very long time. I feel as though some stuff has changed. The changes, though, not obvious enough that they caused me any great discomfort. The door I always used to get into the office hasn't been replaced by an ornamental stature of an elephant. Indian or African. The security guard still sat sleeping in front of mass of screens showing the mundane reality of life.
Sat back at my desk, just a quick glance to my right - and I notice that the plant has grown, unmaintained by anyone - because I was the only one that ever bothered. Tough, and unloved: it's survived without me; it's still glad I'm back. It quite likes the company, even though it doesn't admit it.
To my left, my trusty notepad is there - previously home to the many scribbles and notes that constituted opinions. It's got "old" scrawled across the front of it in a thick black marker. No new additions are welcome.
I'm in the seat.
We don't stop. You can't stop; we're going to celebrate. One more time.
See you tomorrow,
Nic x
This is a bit awkward. I'm not totally sure what to say now, and there I've gone and grabbed everyone's attention.
It's been a while since we've exchanged packets and you've heard me say anything hasn't it? I don't think we need dwell on the reasons why I haven't been around on the Internet, because that's much-discussed by people who need to care, and by those who don't - and I think it's safe to say that while some of the things said and exchanged are true, others are not, and the importance of some of the truths and some of the lies are even less factual.
It's the third time that I've had an issue like this in my life - the first, of course, being with George Galloway MEP, the second with someone rather less important who was offended at my over-use of the word 'shit', and the third with an unknown who had assumed. I've certainly not got to say that I've benefitted a lot from any of these situations - because I'm always left feeling like I should do more. Alas, I have accepted that I cannot. So we must move onwards.
To have actually managed to get to this stage in this piece of writing is reasonably difficult. Since, whenever I set out to write a blog in the past I've had an actual thing to discuss.
This time, though, things are a bit different - and I feel a little bit like I should just be doing some sort of housekeeping? I feel as if I should reel of a list of things I've done over the past 5 months that are significant enough to tell you; I feel as if I should somehow be compelled to have had a slightly more interesting life so that I can stick to the facts and just tell it you straight. In all honesty, I haven't. I've had a hell of a lot of fun over the past five months - all of it far too fun, fast, and uninteresting to tell you about.
I feel somewhat like I've come back to work after being off for a very long time. I feel as though some stuff has changed. The changes, though, not obvious enough that they caused me any great discomfort. The door I always used to get into the office hasn't been replaced by an ornamental stature of an elephant. Indian or African. The security guard still sat sleeping in front of mass of screens showing the mundane reality of life.
Sat back at my desk, just a quick glance to my right - and I notice that the plant has grown, unmaintained by anyone - because I was the only one that ever bothered. Tough, and unloved: it's survived without me; it's still glad I'm back. It quite likes the company, even though it doesn't admit it.
To my left, my trusty notepad is there - previously home to the many scribbles and notes that constituted opinions. It's got "old" scrawled across the front of it in a thick black marker. No new additions are welcome.
I'm in the seat.
We don't stop. You can't stop; we're going to celebrate. One more time.
See you tomorrow,
Nic x
Handing over to Nick2
Site News | Sunday, 20 September | Respond
So this is a difficult post for me to write - it is, infact, the last post you will see here from me for the next 7 days. You all know why that is - I'M MOVING TO BRIGHTON.
For those of you who hadn't yet noticed, and to be honest I don't know how you could avoid it, I'm moving 193 miles South and a bit to the right to Brighton. I'm doing it to go to university to study English Language & Media.
So yes, today's post is a bit of a "can't be arsed, so urm - here's what's going to happen," post. It's like the last day of school, where you've been allowed to bring your toys into school, and wear your own clothes.
Only difference is, I'm the only one doing it. So there's none of the real meaning behind these days - showing off your toys to all of your friends, making sure they know yours is better than theirs.
I remember back in time sometime in the past, I took one of those toys where you built your own device around their little box thing using wires and stuff. You could build a transistor radio, and you could build something where you could transmit some very very weak signal and chat to someone else who had one of these devices.
I played around with it, put some wires in the wrong places - and took it into school. About six of us were promptly fooled into thinking this device could communicate with a boy called Sam, who as - as far as we know, floating in a small pair of Speedos in the Atlantic.
I blame Daniel Westwood. He kept us going for hours before upon asking the question "is he ok?" after lunch - we were told, "I was lying."
I was absolutely and utterly lost and confused by this situation. I felt sad for Sam, mainly because he was fictional, but also because I'm sure had he been real, he wouldn't have been very pleased that we sat chatting to him for hours instead of calling for some kind of help.
We never even sent him a postcard. We never even asked where he was!
Anyway, because I fancied a bit of a break from writing these blogs every day before I started a new chapter of my life, I've handed the blog over to Nick Baigent - he's over on the people pages here, if you want to get to know him before he actually starts giving you the good stuff.
His stuff will be here every night at midnight until Monday 28th September 2009. Good luck everyone.
For those of you who hadn't yet noticed, and to be honest I don't know how you could avoid it, I'm moving 193 miles South and a bit to the right to Brighton. I'm doing it to go to university to study English Language & Media.
So yes, today's post is a bit of a "can't be arsed, so urm - here's what's going to happen," post. It's like the last day of school, where you've been allowed to bring your toys into school, and wear your own clothes.
Only difference is, I'm the only one doing it. So there's none of the real meaning behind these days - showing off your toys to all of your friends, making sure they know yours is better than theirs.
I remember back in time sometime in the past, I took one of those toys where you built your own device around their little box thing using wires and stuff. You could build a transistor radio, and you could build something where you could transmit some very very weak signal and chat to someone else who had one of these devices.
I played around with it, put some wires in the wrong places - and took it into school. About six of us were promptly fooled into thinking this device could communicate with a boy called Sam, who as - as far as we know, floating in a small pair of Speedos in the Atlantic.
I blame Daniel Westwood. He kept us going for hours before upon asking the question "is he ok?" after lunch - we were told, "I was lying."
I was absolutely and utterly lost and confused by this situation. I felt sad for Sam, mainly because he was fictional, but also because I'm sure had he been real, he wouldn't have been very pleased that we sat chatting to him for hours instead of calling for some kind of help.
We never even sent him a postcard. We never even asked where he was!
Anyway, because I fancied a bit of a break from writing these blogs every day before I started a new chapter of my life, I've handed the blog over to Nick Baigent - he's over on the people pages here, if you want to get to know him before he actually starts giving you the good stuff.
His stuff will be here every night at midnight until Monday 28th September 2009. Good luck everyone.
