Miscellany of Valentine
24/01/2012
Metro in the morning (Taken with instagram)
Photo posted at 07:30
14/01/2012
What girl wants a pony when she has lightsaber storage hooks? (Taken with instagram)
Photo posted at 10:05
04/01/2012
Southwark Skeleton Sunrise (Taken with instagram)
Photo posted at 08:06
03/01/2012
Holy Facebook Batman, my wine has a social media strategy (Taken with instagram)
Photo posted at 19:50
02/01/2012
“Easy” level origami, isn’t. (Taken with instagram)
Photo posted at 17:01
08/11/2011
Once more unto the £44.99 breach
I wouldn’t call myself a professional military man, but I’ve been hunting Russian terrorists from my couch for the last four years.
My first deployment was on a three seat sofa in Melbourne from which I, green as grass, picked up the trail of a group of ne’er-do-wells and swore to bring them to justice. I followed the threat wherever it took me and in 2008 I was transferred to a uncomfortable, two-seat futon lounge, at a secure location in London.
It was war, but notwithstanding one horrible incident at a Russian airport, those were happy days. Good hours were spent in the company of comrades, defusing bombs, calling in UAVs, camping on supply drops and capturing Charlie.
But everything wanes in time and eventually, even I wasn’t without battlescars.
Sporting two thumbs riddled with RSI and a pair of index fingers calloused beyond repair, it was clear that my days of chasing terrorists were at an end, so I decided to settle down, adding a wife and two children to my personal platoon.
It was the right decision and before long I was safely ensconced in a leafy North-London suburb for a quiet life of nappies, beer and telling embellished tales of my exploits to anyone who would listen.
Or so I thought.
Not two nights ago, after putting the kids to bed and installing my wife in front of something involving singing, public ridicule and Simon Cowell, I heard chatter on the squawk box that a new threat was rearing its head, in London no less.
I’m not the soldier I once was; my joints are stiff, my reflexes are tired and my three-seater, terrorist-hunting sofa has been traded for a single-soldier, rocking chair designed primarily for breast feeding.
But despite these handicaps, I’m vigilant, I’m willing and I have the £44.99 that Activision will charge me to hunt down these terrorist dogs.
They might only be fictional terrorists, but I’m a very real, thirty-three year-old man with a disposable income and a comfortable chair.
I’m ready.
Text posted at 19:41
10/09/2011
Ambitious, mother-nature-targeting graffiti from the people of Liverpool (Taken with instagram)
Photo posted at 11:10
08/09/2011
Venus Patrol: A New Website About Video Games
If theres are two things that tickle my fancy, they are videogames and kickstarter, so imagine my delight when Brandon Boyer (@Brandonnn) kicked off this bad boy.
Get behind it game fans!
Text posted at 10:00
02/09/2011
Deus Ex Human Revolution: Get this man a throat lozenge - Puns ‘n’ Ammo #8
Hey video-game makers, if you want us to listen to the 30+ hours of voice acting in your next game, how about a protagonist that doesn’t have a voice like broken glass?
Text posted at 08:46
He video-game makers, if you want us to listen to the 30+ hours of voice acting in your next game, how about a protagonist that doesn’t have a voice like broken glass?
Text posted at 08:45
