DeLarge

[SIZE=1]Firebomb that motherf***er's house. You'll feel better. All kidding aside, and not meaning to sound patronising at all, but you're probably a little young to be looking that far ahead, especially after only half a year of being together. I have friends who have been in two or three year relationships and then broken up, and I don't think any of them were ever planning marriage. Just try as hard as you can not to look back on the whole thing, and if you do, try and focus on his bad qualities. I had a girlfriend who split with me and almost immediately ran into the arms of a friend of mine, so I looked back and thought about some of the sucky stuff she'd put me through, and it helped! Also, try not to blame yourself for everything that may or may not have gone "wrong" in your relationship - you're bound to feel as if it was your fault if you were on the receiving end, but remember that it takes two people to screw up relationships. So I'm not going to bombard you with cliches like "there's plenty more fish in the sea," but all I will say is this: it's not the end of the world. You'll move on and eventually find someone you're much happier with - it could take a while, but believe me when I say it will happen. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]I've finally posted, having the two groups still aboard the outpost meet up. Hope this is ok with everyone involved - I didn't go into too much detail about their reunion, just thought I'd leave it a little open-ended. I can't apologise enough for not posting - now I'm back in the swing of it I should be able to post a little more regularly. [/SIZE]

[center][IMG]http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/avatar7_guest.gif[/IMG][IMG]http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/jamiekingse9.jpg[/IMG][IMG]http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/devinletrad.gif[/IMG][IMG]http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/ilonalmarcelle.gif[/IMG] [/center] [center][FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif]It had been slow going, for the most part. Once they had managed to get through the air vent, there had been what seemed like an endless series of connecting rooms, hallways and passages, each one pitch dark and full of stale, recycled oxygen. Devin was at the front of the group, Jamie's flashbulb in his hand, flickering and creating an almost strobe-like effect in the darkness that surrounded them. Alex was behind him, then Ilona with Jamie taking up the rear, probably worrying about the state his flashbulb was going to be in.[/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif] [B]"There's another door," [/B]said Devin, an obvious physical strain on his voice as he tried to push it open, [B]"I think it's stuck. Alex, give me a hand."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif]Alex pressed his shoulder against the door, as Devin had, and on the count of three they both heaved, putting all their strength into it, and after what seemed like an eternity of creaking metal and physical effort, the door burst open.[/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif] Into another corridor.[/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif] [B]"Alright, just a stab in the dark here, as it were, but does anyone actually have any idea where we're going? We could be going round in circles for all we know," [/B]said Alex, exhausted.[/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif] [B]"Well we definitely haven't been here before," [/B]replied Jamie, [B]"The door wouldn't have been jammed if we had."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif][B] "And there's light up ahead," [/B]said Ilona quietly.[/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif] [B]"But we could just be heading back to where we started...wait, Ilona, did you say there's light up ahead?" [/B]asked Alex, looking down the corridor. She was right - there was a door with a window up ahead, a circle of pale light in the suffocating darkness.[/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif] [B]"She's right!" [/B]shouted Devin, and he began running towards the light, the others following him a few paces behind. However, the corridor was a lot longer than they had anticipated, and by the time they got anywhere near the source of light, it flickered and went out.[/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif] [B]"Dammit," [/B]panted Devin, stopping and doubling over to catch his breath, [B]"We lost it."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif][B] "But we must be getting closer to somewhere that does have light," [/B]said Alex, [B]"Come on, let's just get this door open."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif]This one swung open with much greater ease than any of the previous doors, and opened out into what looked like a cargo bay. There were huge metal crates everywhere, including some with a canvas cover that had been torn off. Alex took the flashbulb off Devin and walked slowly over to these partially-hidden crates.[/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif] [B]"There's some kind of symbol on them," [/B]he said, leaning in closer to try and ascertain what it meant, [B]"Sort of...orange, I think."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif][B] "Um...Alex?" [/B]said Jamie, [B]"I think it's a Biohazard symbol."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif][B] "Jesus!" [/B]cried Alex as he stumbled back from them, dropping the flashbulb. Luckily the bulb was unharmed by the impact, although Alex did give a sheepish little grin as he handed it back to Jamie, who took it and dusted it off, checking to see if there had been any lasting damage due to the overuse of the bulb.[/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif] [B]"What are Biohazard crates doing in here?" [/B]whispered Ilona, peering closer at them.[/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif] [B]"I don't think we need to bother ourselves with that question now, Ilona," [/B]replied Devin, [B]"We just need to count ourselves lucky that they're all sealed."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif]Alex exhaled, trying to calm himself down, slow his heart rate. However, it was raised again suddenly when sounds of movement came from one of the offices behind the stack of crates.[/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif] [B]"There's someone there," [/B]said Devin in hushed tones, [B]"Be quiet, everyone." [/B]They all took Devin's advice, and he began to creep forward to the source of the noise. The rest of the group followed him, slowly and quietly, and they entered the set of offices behind the crates.[/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif] [B]"Where do you think they are?" [/B]whispered Jamie.[/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif] [B]"I think it's a pretty safe bet they'll have headed for the light source just over there," [/B]said Devin in response, [B]"So I think we should do the same."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif]Slowly but surely, they inched their way across the office, and Devin took hold of the handle of the door from which the odd light was emanating, and pulled it down. With a little persuasion, it swung open, to reveal a number of people, some of whom Alex recognised from the ship, surrounding a computer screen.[/FONT] [FONT=Microsoft Sans Serif] [B]"Well, isn't this nice?" [/B]said Alex jovially.[/FONT] [/center]

[center][SIZE=1]Twiddling my thumbs, I sat waiting for Harold in the same darkened room that I had previously put Alfie to death in. Normally I didn't like to spend too much time in here, but I needed Harold to assist me on this one, and he was already incredibly late. [B]"Finally!" [/B]I shouted as he pushed through the door, looking rather pale and haggard, [B]"Where the fuck have you been?" [/B]He looked up at me with enormously wide eyes and muttered: [B]"Dealing with a little problem." "What problem? Pyjamas turn into nitrogen and trap you on the ceiling again?" "No, Lance," [/B]he stammered, [B]"I fell asleep at an inopportune moment last night." "When?" "Halfway to Doncaster on the motorway." "How much damage?" "A lot." "You prick!" [/B]I said, bursting into laughter that lasted for approximately fourteen minutes, while Harold stood next to me looking sheepish and disappointed. [B]"Anyway," [/B]I said, walking over to the hooded man chained to the wall, still struggling a little, [B]"Harold, this is Jefferson. Jefferson, Harold." "Nice to meet you," [/B]replied Harold. [B]"I hope you suffocate you fucking pig!" [/B]came the reply. [B]"Don't worry about him, he's a wannabe revolutionary. Loves calling us pigs, royal-fuckers, arseholes who've been sodomised by the evil British Empire. Pay no attention." "Right you are, Lance," [/B]replied Harold, setting up the camera on the tripod in the corner, switching the timer on. [B]"We ready?" [/B]I asked. [B]"I think so, Lance," [/B]said Harold, walking back over to stand by the condemned man. I stood on his other side, smiled and flipped a peace sign with my fingers. The camera flashed, and I walked back over to it. [B]"That one's definitely going on my MySpace page," [/B]I said, picking up the digital camera and slipping it into my pocket. I then picked up a pistol from next to the tripod, loaded the single bullet into it, and stood directly opposite Jefferson. [B]"Any last words, Jefferson?" [/B]I asked, fulfilling my role as Executioner. [B]"Get fucked, pig! You can kiss my big fat revolutionary arse you motherf..." "Oh, for fuck's sake," [/B]I spat, levelling the pistol and firing it in one smooth movement. The bullet flew straight and true, crashing into Jefferson's head and out the other side, splattering blood all over the hood, the wall behind him and the floor. [B]"Oh, Jesus, this is a pain," [/B]I said, throwing the gun down and standing over the body as it twitched in it's post-mortal muscle spasms. [B]"What's that?" [/B]asked Harold, pushing his glasses up his nose. [B]"We have to get a new fucking hood," [/B]I said, peeling the hood off the bloody corpse. --- [B][SIZE=2]King's Cross, London [SIZE=1]"You see that woman by the estate agents?" [/SIZE][/SIZE][/B][SIZE=2][SIZE=1]I asked Harold, pointing over to a glamorous-looking woman standing looking at the pictures of houses, a pot plant in one hand. Harold looked the other way, and I slapped him for his incompetence. He looked over to the estate agent, rubbing his face. [B]"What, the woman?" "Yes, the woman. She's a prime piece of real estate and no mistake," [/B]I said, spraying breath freshener into my mouth from a small capsule and heading over to the woman. [B]"Hi, you looking for a new house?" [/B]I said, turning on the patented Brookes charm. [B]"Yeah, I am actually," [/B]she replied, her voice as smooth as her flowing golden locks. [B]"Well, you wouldn't want to live in that one," [/B]I said, pointing to the one she had been looking at. [B]"Why not?" "I've always maintained the principle: why put bay windows on a shithouse?" [/B]I laughed, and she laughed, a genuine connection. [B]"They say charm is dead, but you're clearly an argument to the contrary," [/B]she said. [B]"Well, I've always said I'm a gentleman, but never a gentle man," [/B]more laughter, [B]"Can I help you with that?" [/B]I gestured to the pot plant, which she handed over to me. [B]"Thanks very much." "No problem. So where am I taking it?" "Oh, well my boyfriend's house is just over the..." "Oh, for fuck's sake," [/B]I said, hurling the pot plant through the window of a nearby Porsche sports car, then I jogged back across the street to where Harold was standing, looking shocked. [B]"Prudish bitch," [/B]I said to him, straightening my tie and strolling off in the other direction. --- Oh, I forgot to mention two things. Firstly, Lance is a horrible person - please don't think that he's a reflection of me, because he's definitely not. You're also not supposed to relate to him, because he's a complete twat, basically. Secondly, this story may well get fairly surreal. Don't try to make too much sense of things like the "pyjama-nitrogen" line, otherwise you'll go mad. [/SIZE][/SIZE][/SIZE][/center]

[CENTER][B][SIZE=3][SIZE=1]WARNING: This story contains violence, scenes of torture and death, drug and alcohol abuse, sex, rock and roll, and extremely foul language. But it's all in good fun, so who gives a shit?[/SIZE] [/SIZE][U][SIZE=3] Well Hung[/SIZE][/U][/B] [SIZE=1]When people remember me, if they remember me, then I imagine that they'll say [/SIZE][SIZE=1]"Lance Ceruvial Brookes, he was an evil man, don't ever forget that, but he was a [/SIZE][SIZE=1]necessary evil." That's essentially how my employers explain me - my morals, my [/SIZE][SIZE=1]ethics, my life: a necessary evil.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1]'Course, that's only one opinion.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1]---[/SIZE] [B][SIZE=2]Westminster, London[/SIZE][/B] [SIZE=1][B]"You are unbelievably fucking stupid,"[/B] I said, strolling idly down the long white [/SIZE][SIZE=1]corridor with my assistant, a short, slightly overweight man with a mess of curly [/SIZE][SIZE=1]hair flopping down into his eyes, [B]"How do you come up with these theories?"[/B][/SIZE] [B][SIZE=1]"All I'm saying is that a great human tragedy could have been totally avoided had [/SIZE][/B][SIZE=1][B]the Titanic been equipped with flamethrowers,"[/B] he replied, pushing his [/SIZE][SIZE=1]thick-rimmed spectacles back up his nose as he struggled to keep pace with me.[/SIZE] [B][SIZE=1]"But the Titanic was a passenger ship - why would they put flamethrowers on a [/SIZE][SIZE=1]passenger ship?"[/SIZE][/B] [SIZE=1][B]"Because they need it to melt the iceberg - it makes perfect sense."[/B] I paused at [/SIZE][SIZE=1]this moment, turned to look at him very slowly, and said:[/SIZE] [B][SIZE=1]"They didn't know it was going to crash into the fucking iceberg, you cretinous [/SIZE][SIZE=1]dickpole. If the builders of the Titanic had some sort of precognitive ability then [/SIZE][SIZE=1]perhaps they would have fitted acetylene torches to the front of the biggest [/SIZE][SIZE=1]passenger cruiser ever built, but somehow I don't think they did. I think they [/SIZE][SIZE=1]were ordinary, pot-bellied, potato-digging Irishmen, without any hint of [/SIZE][SIZE=1]superhuman ability, precognitive or otherwise, and as such they couldn't possibly [/SIZE][SIZE=1]have foreseen that the Titanic was going to happen to crash into a giant iceberg, [/SIZE][SIZE=1]sinking and killing hundreds of people. Do you know any Irish ship-builders that [/SIZE][SIZE=1]can see into the future?"[/SIZE][/B] [SIZE=1]My assistant shook his head meekly, lowering his eyes to the floor, and scuffing [/SIZE][SIZE=1]the carpet sheepishly with his foot.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1][B]"No, I thought not,"[/B] I said sharply, turning into a darkened, windowless room off [/SIZE][SIZE=1]the white corridor. The interior of the room was almost totally bare, [/SIZE][SIZE=1]wood-panelled, with an odd musty smell wafting throughout. The only light [/SIZE][SIZE=1]came from a single gaslamp that hung above the centre of the room, glowing with [/SIZE][SIZE=1]an odd, dingy sort of light, and the only change to the decor of the room was a [/SIZE][SIZE=1]bizarre monument standing silently under the lamp. It seemed to be an [/SIZE][SIZE=1]average-sized man in a set of loose, dark, pyjama-like clothes, with a beige sack [/SIZE][SIZE=1]draped over his head, and a rope slung around his neck, which had been [/SIZE][SIZE=1]suspended from the ceiling. There was also a plain wooden handle right next to [/SIZE][SIZE=1]him, rising from the floor at a slight angle. To anyone unfamiliar with this sort of [/SIZE][SIZE=1]scene, it would be an abstract and unsettling one, but to me and my assistant, [/SIZE][SIZE=1]it was normal fayre.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1][B]"Morning, Alfie,"[/B] I said cheerfully as I stepped into the room, [B]"How was dinner last [/B][/SIZE][B][SIZE=1]night?"[/SIZE][/B] [SIZE=1][B]"Best meal I've ever eaten, thanks, Lance,"[/B] came the muffled reply from under the [/SIZE][SIZE=1]sack.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1][B]"Glad to hear it,"[/B] I responded, the tiniest of smiles gradually creeping across my [/SIZE][SIZE=1]face.[/SIZE] [B][SIZE=1]"Alfie, do you think that the Titanic should have been equipped with [/SIZE][/B][SIZE=1][B]flamethrowers?"[/B] asked my assistant. There was a brief pause, and then Alfie [/SIZE][SIZE=1]replied, saying:[/SIZE] [B][SIZE=1]"Actually, now I come to think of it, that's not a bad idea, Harold. Would have [/SIZE][SIZE=1]saved a lot of human lives, and..."[/SIZE][/B] [SIZE=1][B]"Oh, for fuck's sake,"[/B] I exclaimed, grabbing the wooden handle and yanking it [/SIZE][SIZE=1]towards me. There was a sudden snap as the wood panelling underneath Alfie's [/SIZE][SIZE=1]feet dropped away, and Alfie fell into the deep black pit of oblivion, but his [/SIZE][SIZE=1]descent was cut short by a sudden stop, facilitated entirely by the rope around his [/SIZE][SIZE=1]neck becoming taught. His neck snapped, and the sudden rush of noise and [/SIZE][SIZE=1]excitement was replaced by an eery, hanging silence, where the hanging body of [/SIZE][SIZE=1]Alfie swayed back and forth.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1]After a few seconds, I brushed my fringe back out of my eyes, straightened my [/SIZE][SIZE=1]black silk tie, then clapped my hands together, and said:[/SIZE] [B][SIZE=1]"Drink?"[/SIZE][/B] [SIZE=1]---[/SIZE] [B][SIZE=2]The Hanging Man Gentleman's Club, Westminster[/SIZE][/B] [SIZE=1]The soft velour of the armchair I sank into was heaven compared to the plastic [/SIZE][SIZE=1]slabs one was required to sit on in Her Majesty's Prisons. I felt the pain in my [/SIZE][SIZE=1]back muscles begin to recede as I settled in, a glass of fine single malt whisky in [/SIZE][SIZE=1]one hand and a large Cuban cigar, the tip smoking away merrily in the other.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1][B]"Not drinking, Harold?"[/B] I asked, seeing the diet soft drink fizzing away in my [/SIZE][SIZE=1]assistant's hand as he sat down.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1][B]"I can't, I'm afraid,"[/B] he replied, straightening his tweed jacket and pushing his [/SIZE][SIZE=1]glasses back up his nose, [B]"I'm driving up to Doncaster to see my mother tonight."[/B][/SIZE] [SIZE=1][B]"Nonsense,"[/B] I replied, pouring him a glass of whisky from the large glass decanter [/SIZE][SIZE=1]which sat on the table next to me,[B] "You can have a glass or two - by the time you [/B][/SIZE][B][SIZE=1]start driving, you'll have worked all the alcohol out of your bloodstream."[/SIZE][/B] [SIZE=1][B]"I...I really shouldn't,"[/B] he said, waving away the proffered glass.[/SIZE] [B][SIZE=1]"Look, Harold, you know I hate to pull rank, and that I like to leave that whole [/SIZE][SIZE=1]assistant-boss relationship shit in the office, but if you don't take the whisky, [/SIZE][SIZE=1]drink it and fucking enjoy it, I will fire your fat half-Belgian arse before you can [/SIZE][SIZE=1]say "Grease me up, Margaret, I'm about to burst.""[/SIZE][/B] [SIZE=1]With a slight hesitation, Harold reached out and accepted the glass.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1]---[/SIZE] [SIZE=1]2 hours later...[/SIZE] [SIZE=1][B]"I've always...always said you were my best...my best friend,"[/B] Harold slurred as he [/SIZE][SIZE=1]slumped further down into the armchair. Half the decanter of whisky had been [/SIZE][SIZE=1]poured down his neck since I offered him that first glass two hours ago, and now [/SIZE][SIZE=1]it was becoming rather tiresome. I ordered that whisky, and I'd hardly had a [/SIZE][SIZE=1]chance to taste it before Harold had necked half the well-matured goodness.[/SIZE] [B][SIZE=1]"Listen, Harold, I think it's about time you started on your way up to Doncaster. [/SIZE][SIZE=1]Your mother will be wondering where on earth you've got to. Look, here are your [/SIZE][/B][SIZE=1][B]keys,"[/B] I said, glazing over the malicious intent as I handed Harold his car keys.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1][B]"Thanksss Lance,"[/B] he said, stumbling out of his chair and towards the exit, [/SIZE][B][SIZE=1]"You're a good friend!"[/SIZE][/B] [SIZE=1][B]"The best you'll ever have, arseface,"[/B] I said to myself as he left.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1]Yes, I'm a necessary evil. --- Welcome to the shadowy and morbid world of Lance Ceruvial Brookes, Head Executioner of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II's Empire. You may not like it, you may find elements of it disturbing and unsettling, but please take it all with a big pinch of salt. This is not in any way supposed to be a ground-breaking piece of fiction, just a fun little tale that I hope will entertain at least one person on the 'Boards. I also realise that the humour contained within may not be to everyone's tastes, but hopefully there's someone out there who shares a similar sense of humour. Anyway, enjoy, comment and I will post some more as soon as it is written. [/SIZE][/CENTER]

[SIZE=1][B]"Gunshot wound to the chest, gunshot wound to the head, gunshot wound to the neck," [/B]I said, quickly ascertaining the cause of death of the three cadavers that had only been brought into the morgue a few minutes ago. Coroner in Otaku City is, without a doubt, the easiest occupation in the world. [B]"Don't we need to do anything else? Follow proper procedure?" [/B]asked one of the interns, his voice quivering, trying desperately not to look at the array of dead bodies sprawled out on slabs in the cold basement. [B]"Look, kid," [/B]I said, pulling my glasses off and pinching the bridge of my nose, [B]"Nobody cares about the stiffs that end up down here. If you want to waste three hours filling out the forms for these three then please be my guest. Hundreds of people get killed in this city, and if we're supposed to log each and every one of them then we're never going to get any downtime. Oh, and you might want to learn to look at corpses if you're working down here - it's kind of an important part of the job description." [/B]I turned round and strode into my office, dropping into the crappy swivel chair and placing my feet up on the desk, as I pulled a battered packet of cigarettes out of the pocket of my lab coat. I twisted one into the corner of my mouth and began patting myself down to find my lighter. [B]"God damn it," [/B]I exclaimed under my breath, [B]"Oi, interns! Any of you got a lighter?" "Should you be smoking in here, sir?" [/B]asked the same intern shakily, nevertheless pulling a small Zippo from his pocket and throwing it to me. [B]"I don't think the patients mind," [/B]I replied, sparking the lighter and holding it to the end of the cigarette until a lungful of smoke entered my body, then flipped it shut and threw it back to the intern. I exhaled the smoke, and ran my hand through my short brown hair, leaning back in my chair. It was a reasonable job, once you got used to the smell of bodies that clings to you until you chang your clothes. It messes with your head a little, but you develop ways to get over it - some people turn to drugs, some to alcohol, some to "ladies of the night." I, however, found a different route to go down - humour. And drugs. And alcohol. But those are only in the evenings. Another problem with this job is the pay, or rather the almost total lack thereof. So you have to take side-jobs to make your money. I choose to do this by performing medical procedures on people who don't wish to have their names and details put into the hospital database. I make a pretty good living off it, enough to keep me in beer, valium and Hawaiian shirts anyway. My latest "paycheck" had just arrived on my desk, and by "paycheck" I mean a battered tan-coloured envelope stuffed with slightly blood-stained bills. It might sound horrific, but living in Otaku City you get used to blood-stained money. I grabbed the envelope, quickly flicked through the money, making a brief count of it, then pulled fifty dollars out and shoved the cash in the pocket of my jeans, then put the rest away in the small safe under my desk. Some might think doing stuff like this is unethical, but a living's a living, eh? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]I don't go for Pizza Hut - it's expensive and for my money they're not the greatest pizzas ever. I tend to buy frozen from the supermarket and then I can have them whenever I want. Sometimes, though, if I can't be bothered, I just order one, usually from Domino's as they're the closest to our house, and as such they don't take as long to deliver, plus we always get coupons and stuff for their pizza anyway. As for toppings, I like anything meaty, particularly BBQ Chicken - not the most sophisticated of pizza toppings, I know, but I have a certain fondness for it. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]I'm not picky about my blended drinks - I tend to throw in any fruit I can find when making a smoothie. This is usually banana, strawberry, maybe raspberry if we have it hanging around, mango, pineapple, and add in some natural or Greek yoghurt and blend. Tends to come out tasting bearable. When making milkshakes, however, the gloves are off and I go all out. I have had any number of bizarre concoctions, especially as there is a milkshake bar near where I live which promises to blend together any ingredient you bring in. Kinder Bueno, Ferrero Rocher and Cadbury's Flake is maybe the oddest combination I've ever had. Having said that they will blend anything, they do draw the line at some point - a friend of mine brought in the remains of a roast dinner and they turned her away. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]I stand naked in a field and beat myself with a tree-branch. It's the best rush you can get, and it costs nothing.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]My apologies for not posting - A level exams and recurring internet problems have proved something of a hindrance to my efforts. It looks like everything is sorted with my internet connection now, and I'm all finished with my exams, so I'll be able to get a post up within the next day or two. I just need to do some reading and catch up on what's been going on.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]I've smoked a few times, at festivals or the occasional really heavy party, and while I enjoyed it at the time, I never felt the urge to do it more regularly. I was surrounded by similarly stoned people, and to be frank, they were just boring, so I went and tried to hang out with some non-stoned people, and they left because I reeked of the stuff. I've also hung out with people who were stoned while I was totally sober (being the designated driver sucks) and found them to be intensely irritating. Plus, like Raiha, I don't have an addictive personality. But I do realise that marijuana is a whole lot less damaging (at least in the short-term) than alcohol, so I fail to see a logical reason why it shouldn't be legalised. However, I think it should be controlled, like smoking cigarettes is in England now - I don't think you should be allowed to do it in public places. Amsterdam have the right idea, with hash bars and so on. I don't mind people smoking it, as long as they keep the smell away from me. But that's just my lefty, liberal, corduroy-wearing opinion. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]This here is a thread for any and all musicians to tell the world (or the rest of OB) what instruments you play, what makes they all are and how they are the greatest instrument you could ever ask for. I'll go first: I have an alto saxophone lying under my bed which hasn't seen any use in some months, unfortunately. It's a Yamaha, so pretty good quality, although it's currently a little beaten-up and doesn't play as well as it used to. But I think scratches and dents add character, personally. The instrument I'm most into at the moment is the bass guitar. I have two, one which I rarely use any more since I got my new one. My old one, which is hanging on a hook in my bedroom in it's gig bag, was an Ibanez GSR200 in Jewel Blue, and I loved that thing. It was my first ever bass, and it has seen so much use, and quite a number of gigs where I thrashed it pretty hard. It got really scratched up, and the battery compartment doesn't hold as well as it used to, but I managed to fix the internal wiring problem so it plays ok. However, my new bass is the apple of my eye - a natural ash Musicman StingRay. It's such a beautiful thing, and the tone is so perfect that I've been told I'd have to get a bass custom-made to beat it. I don't have any stickers or anything on it (unlike my Ibanez) because I'm wary of ruining the paintwork, however, I'm in a sort of punk/funk band so I may well have to grunge it up a bit. I really love this thing, I play it pretty much every day for a good few hours, so it's already got a lot of fret-wear which looks awesome. I run it through an Ashdown Perfect 10 30-watt amp, which has gorgeous tone to it, although I am thinking of upgrading to a slightly heftier wattage sometime soon. I also have a Digitech FX pedal which I use occasionally, but again I'm thinking of getting a couple of stomp-boxes to replace it (probably a fuzz pedal and a synth wah envelope filter). Anyway, music nerd stuff over, I'll let anyone else take their turn. [/SIZE]

[center][IMG]http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/avatar7_guest.gif[/IMG][IMG]http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/jamiekingse9.jpg[/IMG][IMG]http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/ilonalmarcelle.gif[/IMG] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Of course, you need no introduction," [/B]said Alex with a smile as he set pen to paper [B]"Ilona Montenegro L'Marcelle, professional lounge singer."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Excuse me?" [/B]she replied, cocking an eyebrow. This was the first time in the course of their conversation that Alex had noticed a change in her icy-calm exterior.[/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"I saw you at a bar once in Washington Prime," [/B]Alex said with a slight laugh, [B]"Zero Degrees? Nice little place, glasses made of ice. Don't worry, I'm not some kind of insane stalker."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Oh, thank goodness," [/B]Ilona replied with a relieved little giggle, [B]"I've had a few in my time, I'll admit right now."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Oh, really? Anything serious?" [/B]asked Alex, scribbling away in his notepad.[/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Not really. Just some mysterious midnight phone calls, people hanging around outside my apartment, that sort of thing."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Right. And how did you get hired to play on the Von Braun?"[/B] She took a sip of her drink, and then launched into the answer.[/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Well, I made a demo with some friends a few months back - a certain someone to whom I owe a great deal managed to get the promoters to play it at the launch party for the Von Braun concept, and it escalated from there. Big auditions, private corporate screenings, that sort of thing, and now here I am!" [/B]She smiled seductively at Alex, who was finding her very hard to read. Usually he was a terrific judge of character, able to find flaws in people's personalities which he could exploit, either for work or pleasure, but Ms L'Marcelle was a tough one to figure out.[/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Good," [/B]Alex said with a smile as he wrote down everything she was saying, [B]"Finally, what are your impressions of the ship so far?"[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Well, in all my time as a singer, I've never played such a luxurious gig in my life, let's just put it that way," [/B]she replied, her eyes sparkling.[/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Fantastic," [/B]said Alex, scribbling the last of his shorthand notes and tucking the pen back into his pocket, [B]"If it's not too much trouble, which I'm sure it's not for a gorgeous young woman such as yourself, I'd like to get a couple of pictures of you for the report."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Naturally, I'd be delighted," [/B]she replied, standing up from her seat, placing one slender, manicured hand on the bar and brushing her incredible locks out of her face. Jamie stood with his jaw hanging open, until Alex nudged him and gestured towards Ms L'Marcelle. He seemed to snap out of it, and took a few pictures of her from varying angles, with her in varying poses.[/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Thank you, Ms L'Marcelle," [/B]Alex said, taking up her hand and planting a delicate kiss upon it. She looked him up and down subtly, then smiled and said:[/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Please, call me Ilona. And the pleasure was all mine." [/B]And with that, she floated off gracefully into the crowd.[/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"She was, without a doubt, the most perfect woman I've ever seen in my life," [/B]said Jamie.[/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"You need to get a grip, buddy," [/B]replied Alex, patting the side of his friend's face gently, [B]"Either that, or you need to get laid, pronto." [/B]With this, the latest joking comment, Alex gestured to the barman for another drink. The man in the red waistcoat responded, pouring out another whisky over ice, and slid it to Alex, who grabbed it at the instant before it fell over the edge of the bar, and lifted it to his mouth.[/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"You're drinking a lot," [/B]said Jamie, noticing how Alex drained his third glass, [B]"That's three for my one."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Who are you, my mum?" [/B]asked Alex with a little more aggression than he was planning, [B]"I'm just a quick drinker. It's not my fault you don't have as high an alcohol threshold as me."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Still, you were the one who suggested opening the champagne this morning. Liquid breakfast? Doesn't sound too normal to me, my friend."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Sorry, are you trying to say something?" [/B]Alex replied, turning to face his friend, his stance more aggressive now, [B]"Are you implying I have a drinking problem?"[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"No, I'm just saying, you might want to take it easy. We're technically on the job."[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Yeah, well maybe I'm gonna go on the job somewhere else for the night. I'll see you later, Jamie," [/B]Alex said, and stormed through the crowd towards the exit.[/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma][B]"Alex, come back," [/B]he heard Jamie cry over the bustling dancefloor, [B]"Come back!"[/B][/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma]Alex stormed out of the bar, intensely irritated that Jamie had apparently resolved to ruin their first night on the ship, and followed the signs on the walls to the second-nearest bar.[/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma]This place was called Dogma, and was a lot quieter than the Kimera lounge, apparently more of an ambient bar than a real cocktail lounge. It was dark, lit only by neon and ultra-violet lights, and there were a few people moving slowly to the electronic music on the dancefloor. Alex headed straight for the bar and ordered himself another whisky, deciding to nurse this one rather than drain it straight away.[/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma]He began, slowly and purposefully, to head towards the dancefloor, where he quickly locked in step with an attractive young woman, nothing like the level of Ilona back in the Kimera, but still stunning compared to a lot of girls he had met. He felt her scantily-clad torso press up against his, and before he knew it their lips were locked together.[/FONT] [FONT=Tahoma]It was turning into an interesting night...[/FONT] [/center]

[center][IMG]http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/avatar7_guest.gif[/IMG] [/center] [center][B][FONT=Tahoma]"Is that...the sky?" [/FONT][/B][FONT=Tahoma]asked Jamie under his breath, looking up at the high ceiling of the lobby. [B]"It can't be...it's just a simulation," [/B]replied Alex, looking up himself, [B]"They've installed some kind of holographic projection to make it look like a skylight. I guess looking at clear blue sky is much more interesting than staring at empty space. Come on, let's go check in." [/B]--- Check-in hadn't taken too long, and soon enough Alex and Jamie were in their shared room, Jamie lounging on the bed and Alex tucking his bag into the nearby closet. [B]"That A.I. in the lift was something else, huh?" [/B]said Jamie, fishing his camera out of his bag and scrolling through the images he had already collected. [B]"It's impressive, that's for sure. But don't you think installing A.I. like that could be problematic for the staff? I mean, those hostesses could be put out of a job eventually." "What, and you're upset because it's impossible to flirt with A.I.? Come on, Alex, that's hardly the reason we're here. Just relax, will you?" "Fine," [/B]Alex replied, looking around the room. For a second-class cabin, this place wasn't half bad, although Alex suspected that was partly due to the lack of use - there were no scuff-marks on the carpets, no limescale damage in the bathroom, and no marks on the walls from over-excited children. The carpet was dark blue, rich and thick to the touch, and the walls were the colour of champagne, much like the carpet in Alex's own apartment. There was a television screen embedded in the wall, a number of glass-and-chrome tables of varying sizes dotted around the room, and a pair of sofas over towards the door. There were two double beds, which was a pleasant surprise for Alex, and, most unusually, there was a window at the far end of the room. This was unusual because the room was surrounded on three sides by other rooms, and on the fourth side was the hallway that led to the room. Alex guessed it must have been a simulation similar to the skylight in the lobby, and right now it was showing clear blue sky, not a cloud in sight. The moment the pair had come in, Jamie had started snapping pictures of the beds, the simulated windows, the sofas, everything he could possibly photograph was now captured on film. [B]"Let's go do something, Alex," [/B]said Jamie, with much the same tone as a bored five-year-old. [B]"What did you have in mind?" [/B]asked Alex, shrugging his jacket back on to go. [B]"Bar?" "Sounds good to me." [/B]The pair got up and left the room, remembering to take their identification with them - a simple swipe of the magnetic strip on the back would unlock their door instantly. It clicked shut behind them, and the bolts automatically slid into position. [/FONT][/center]

[SIZE=1]I've also used Hilda as well as one of her underlings. You were right, being the senior hostess makes you a lot of acquaintances quickly. Anyway, my last post was fairly wordy, and didn't get us much further than before, but I feel like you may have a better idea of the relationship between Alex and Jamie now. Speaking of Jamie, do I need to use an avatar to represent him? He's an NPC, but I figure it may help if he's got an appearance to have at the top of posts. Also, in the whole retro-future concept, would anything like a laptop computer be widely available? I'm just trying to think of an easy way for Alex to get his article started, but still wanted to fit in with the whole aesthetic. [/SIZE]

[center][IMG]http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/avatar7_guest.gif[/IMG][IMG]http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/brunhildemetzger.png[/IMG] [/center] [center][FONT=Tahoma]As Alex and Jamie disembarked from the train and stepped off the platform into the docking bay of the Von Braun, the sight of the ship itself literally took Alex's breath away. He knew it was big, but he had never expected it to be of quite this magnitude - he couldn't even see the entire bulk of the vessel, as the opposite end of it was easily ten or twelve kilometres away. [B]"Good lord," [/B]muttered Jamie, fumbling in his bag to pull his camera out, [B]"I never expected to have this out this early in the trip. I hope I brought enough film." "A place this big, there's bound to be somewhere you can buy it, Jamie," [/B]replied Alex as Jamie began snapping photos off, the flashbulb snapping with each shot, [B]"It's like a city." [/B]The pair continued up to the entry gate, grabbing their press passes out of their respective carry-on bags, and slapping their boarding passes and identification down in front of the young, attractive hostesses. [B]"Welcome to the Von Braun, sir," [/B]Alex's hostess said with a broad, sparkling grin, her blue eyes and blonde hair instantly striking a chord with Alex. [B]"Lovely to be here," [/B]he replied, flashing her his own prize-winning smile, [B]"Listen, do you mind if my colleague here gets a picture of you and a couple of other girls? We're journalists, doing a report on the maiden voyage of the Von Braun, and we need as much material as we can get. You could make it onto the front page of the Washington Prime Herald." "I'd be delighted, but I'm not sure what my boss would say," [/B]said the young girl, checking the ID of the people behind Alex so as to keep the flow of people steady. [B]"Well...Natalie," [/B]Alex said, reading her name off her staff identification badge, [B]"If she's somewhere nearby, I'm sure I can persuade her." "Absolutely, Mr Azure, sir." "Please, call me Alex," [/B]he said softly, brushing past her as he went to find the woman in charge, and subtly slipping a piece of paper with his room details into the pocket of her jacket. He immediately saw a middle-aged, but still very attractive young woman talking to a muscular, dark-skinned man, and she had the words "Senior Hostess" written all over her. [B]"Excuse me, miss," [/B]Alex called politely as the dark-skinned man moved on, [B]"Could I have a moment of your time?" "Of course," [/B]she replied, her braod smile beaming, tiny wrinkles appearing at the corners of her eyes as she smiled, [B]"What can I do for you, sir?" "Alex Azure, Washington Prime Herald," [/B]he said, flashing his press pass at her, [B]"I was wondering if I could trouble you to borrow a couple of your girls for a few moments? I need a picture or two of them as a first impression. I understand that this is a very busy time for you, and I will of course return to carry out full interviews with your fine self and your team, but this shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes." "Certainly, sir," [/B]she replied, moving past him and snapping her fingers at a couple of the more attractive girls, Natalie included, [B]"Girls!" [/B]she called, and they moved quickly towards her. [B]"Mr Azure would like a couple of pictures. Best smiles, girls," [/B]the Senior Hostess said, and Alex called Jamie over. [B]"Damn, you work fast, Alex," [/B]he said under his breath, raising his camera and snapping off a few shots of the Senior Hostess and her girls, from a few different angles, until he was happy with the composition. [B]"Thank you so much for your time, Ms...Metzger," [/B]said Alex, beginning to move towards the lobby. [B]"Please, call me Hilda." "Hilda...beautiful name." "Thank you sir," [/B]she said with a smile and the tiniest of laughs, [B]"Please don't hesitate to call me if you need to find your way around." [/B]With this parting comment, she turned around and continued with her previous job. Jamie and Alex strode out towards the lobby, moving with the flow of the sea of people that surrounded them, in silence for a few minutes, until Jamie burst out laughing. [B]"What?" [/B]asked Alex. [B]""Hilda...beautiful name,"" [/B]he gasped in a high-pitched, mocking parody of Alex's own voice, [B]"You couldn't be more of an idiot if you tried." "Hey, that's the Alex Azure charm in motion right there," [/B]replied Alex with feigned indignance, [B]"I didn't see you hit it off with any gorgeous ship hostesses, anyway." "I'm biding my time, man," [/B]Jamie snorted, [B]"You Brits, always thinking you're so suave and sophisticated." "You Yanks, always stumbling into situations half-cocked," [/B]Alex shot back, sneaking Jamie a sly grin. To an outsider, it may seem as though they were fighting, but this was just the way they were with each other. Eventually, they reached the lobby, and it's magnificence knocked the air out of both of them in an instant... [/FONT][/center]

[center][IMG]http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/avatar7_guest.gif[/IMG] [/center] [center][FONT=Tahoma][B]"We've done it, Alex," [/B]said Jamie King, photographer extraordinaire excitedly, [B]"We've bagged ourselves two of the most prestigious passes in the known universe. We've got press passes to the maiden voyage of the Von Braun." [/B]Jamie was a reasonable handsome young man, his close-cropped, chestnut-brown hair in sharp contrast to his room-mate's wavy blonde locks. He was a large, well-built man, and carried himself confidently. [B] "This has got to be our big break, Jamie," [/B]replied Alex, a broad grin covering the lower half of his face as he packed his bag enthusiastically, [B]"If this doesn't get us a look-in at the WPNN, I don't know what will." [/B]Alex's looks were the exact opposite of Jamie's - he was thin, lean but deceptively muscular, with blue eyes which radiated the sort of charm and charisma that every good reporter needs. [B] "We're gonna be huge!" [/B]shouted Jamie, racing into his room to pack his own belongings into some sort of carry-on bag. The apartment they shared was pleasant enough, if a little on the small side. Alex and Jamie shared everything, the rent payments, the power bills, and by pooling their resources they managed to get an apartment a damn sight nicer than a lot of reporters. The champagne-coloured carpets were thin and a little threadbare through years of good use, and the light blue walls had become a little faded over time. One side of the living area of the apartment was taken up by a set of huge windows, giving the illusion of more space, and the rest of the room was filled with reasonably stylish furniture, all chrome and glass.. Alex had his own room, with a small bed in the corner, but the room was mostly dominated by a huge, dark-wood writing desk which Alex had inherited. It may not have fitted with the aesthetic of the rest of the apartment, but he was damned if he was going to get rid of it just to fit in. Jamie's room was the smaller of the two, the walls completely covered by work from all ages of his photography career, from pictures he took when he was just a student, to newspaper clippings containing his photographs. He often took up the entire bathroom for hours at a time, turning it into his own personal darkroom, much to Alex's chagrin. Alex shoved the last few items of clothing into the bag on top of his many different notepads and the small mahogany box which contained his writing equipment, and turned to the kitchenette. There was a bottle of champagne in the fridge that Alex's parents had given him for his birthday, and which they had been saving for a special occasion, and they didn't come much better than this. He pulled it out by it's neck and ripped the foil off, twisting the wire that held the cork in place. He popped the cork, dropping it onto the worktop beside the bottle. [B]"Now that's a noise I like," [/B]said Jamie, hauling his bag out of the other bedroom. His seemed a lot fuller than Alex's, as Jamie had the misfortune of having to lug around his camera and all the equipment he needed to develop the films himself. Alex handed him a glass, then held his own up, and said: [B]"To our success!" [/B]Jamie seconded the notion, and they clinked their glasses together, draining them quickly. Alex looked at his watch, and, realising the time, said: [B]"Damn. Our cab's going to be here in a few minutes. We should get downstairs." "Good plan. You have the passes?" [/B]asked Jamie, and Alex pulled the tickets out of his shirt pocket. Jamie grinned and they both rushed out of the apartment, grabbing their bags on the way. Jamie locked up, and shoved the keys into a side pocket of his bag. They wouldn't need them until they got back. Then the pair headed downstairs towards their cab, and what promised to be the turning point in both their careers. [/FONT][/center]

[SIZE=1]You have to go outside to smoke...oh no, wait, we're on a spaceship. Never mind. [/SIZE]

[B][SIZE=1]Title: [/SIZE][/B][SIZE=1]The OB Sitcom (working title) [B]Genre: [/B]Comedy [B]Setting: [/B]Apartment block/bar/anywhere you want, really [B]Summary: [/B]Members play themselves in a sitcom-type setting - ideally a group of five or six of mixed gender for the main cast with some occasional "recurring" characters. Follows the main characters as they muddle their way through life, work, love and rejection, with hilarious consequences. Possibility of working towards an ultimate final goal, but mostly just about the fun they have along the way. Fairly tongue-in-cheek, almost definitely cheesy as hell. Would require good comedy writers, capable of writing at least fairly intelligent humour, not simply "and then he ran into a wall lol". Ultimately a lot of the plot detail would be up to the main cast - setting, for example. There could be a couple of different "sets," for example the apartment shared by two or more characters and the bar across the street where the gang are regulars. Overall plot (or "season") would be divded into several "episodes" in which there would be several different plot lines intertwining, each featuring a different character. Would be very much character rather than plot-driven, and characters would become more and more fleshed out over the "season." [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Oh, go on then. My name's Phil, and I have a number of hobbies/interests. Interests include film, TV, music, stand-up comedy, video games (to an extent), literature, driving and the ladies(shaboing...boing). Hobbies include playing the saxophone and the bass guitar, and the keyboard to a lesser extent, drawing, writing, all the usuals. I used to be a lot more into drawing than I am now - there was barely a time in the day when you wouldn't see me with a sketchbook and a pencil in my hand, but since doing an Art and Graphics course at school it's kind of become less interesting to me. I do still occasionally pick up a pen or pencil and do a really detailed drawing, but it's not that often any more. Writing is also something I enjoy, although again I haven't done much of it for a while - I prefer sitting down and writing with a pen and paper, and most of the time when I do that now I'm doing it for college. I've been playing the saxophon for around 8 years now, and I'm not all that brilliant at it to be honest - I was taught really rigorously, and I'm never good at something when it's being drummed into my head. I prefer to take my own time and learn stuff in my own way. I guess it's why I've never been much good at school. More recently, however, I picked up the bass guitar, and it's become my only real passion. I went from a fairly basic £200 bass to recently buying a much better £800 one, and I don't regret it at all. I play it pretty much every day, and even though I've only had it since October, I've already got a good amount of wear on the frets, making the natural wood finish look really cool. I never play it plugged in after 9pm, though, as it's just rude to the neighbours (because when I play, I play LOUD). As for the types of music I play, I'll play anything with a good bassline. Seriously, anything. Rock, funk, blues, jazz, reggae, ska, swing, hip hop, latin, progressive, metal, if it sounds good and is fun to play I'll play it. I've actually done a few stand-up comedy gigs in the past few months - I did an Open Mic competition in my town and came second. I'm currently talking to a couple of people about representation and getting regular slots in places around town, which is pretty exciting. I do sort of stream-of-consciousness stuff, I never plan anything out too rigidly. I prefer to let it flow. As for religion, I consider myself to be a humanist. I don't believe in any God or gods, and instead choose to uphold human ethics, justice and reason. For those of you who are unsure, the International Humanist and Ethical Union describe humanism thusly: "[I]Humanism is a democratic and ethical life stance, which affirms that human beings have the right and responsibility to give meaning and shape to their own lives. It stands for the building of a more humane society through an ethic based on human and other natural values in the spirit of reason and free inquiry through human capabilities. It is not theistic, and it does not accept supernatural views of reality[/I]." I do talk about this in my stand-up routine occasionally, but I don't like to insult people who are religious too brutally. Relationships: I don't really have time for proper committed relationships at the moment, but I have my fair share of fun times. However, I always ensure that any girl I may be seeing is of the same opinion - I don't want to give anyone any kind of false hope. I'm a bit different in that respect to most of my friends, who are in committed relationships. Makes me something of a dark horse. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Currently listening to [B]BB King and Friends - 80[/B]. Got some great collaborations on it, from King and Clapton to Sheryl Crow, Mark Knopfler, Roger Daltrey and even Elton John. It seems to be good music to listen to while doing an immensely boring exam paper on Child Language Acquisition - not too invasive but interesting enough to listen to that I'm not falling asleep.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Ah, it may be good simply because it's Spielberg, but let's hope it doesn't suffer from "Spielberg Syndrome," a dangerous coniditon for films in which they have several sensible places to end the film, only to end it for real an hour later. It can be deadly. Snapping sharply back to reality for a second, I am quite looking forward to this film, much to the chagrin of some of my Indy-purist friends, who believe it's heresy or something to revive the series. I loved the look of the trailers, and I've been following the progress of this film for a long while now. Hope it lives up to expectations. If nothing else, it should fill the gap before The Dark Knight comes out in July. [/SIZE]

[B][SIZE=1]28 Days Later: [/SIZE][/B][SIZE=1]really intense and eery, especially the scenes in a deserted London. I wasn't expecting Brendan Gleeson to pop up, either, but it was quite a welcome surprise. [B]Brokeback Mountain: [/B]I had to watch this for my film course at college, and even though I was sitting next to quite a macho guy, I was practically crying my eyes out. Really moving film. Also I like sticking it to the Christian evangelists who berate this movie due to the homosexual themes. [B]In Bruges: [/B]this film was ****ing fantastic, and I felt I needed to swear there because of the general feel of the film. It was funny and violent and filled with foul language, which is all good in my book. [B]This Film Is Not Yet Rated: [/B]I don't know if this really counts, but it's a documentary about the MPAA, and I found it fascinating. The amount of Hollywood directors who are royally pissed off about the MPAA's rating policy is quite staggering. Funny little cartoons helped my concentration. Hee hee. [B]The Golden Compass: [/B]I saw this in the cinema last year, and just got it on DVD, and was less disappointed the second time. I felt that it captured the overall feel of the books without really capturing the soul of them. And I was a huge fan of the books, so it was slightly disappointing. Others: [B]V for Vendetta The Bourne Identity The Bourne Supremacy Casino Royale The Departed Jackie Brown Natural Born Killers Shaun of the Dead [/B]Movie Count: 51 [/SIZE]

[QUOTE]Hang on a sec. You know, I'm not entirely convinced being attracted to someone the first time you see them is necessarily always lust. Thing is, lust is described as the desire of the flesh, pretty much means your base intention is sex.[/QUOTE] [SIZE=1]Dude, you just described me all over. Shaboing...boing. (that works so much better IRL) Anyway, I've grown to the realisation that love isn't something that happens at first sight, and it isn't some fairytale, storybook thing which makes every single little crappy thing in your life better in every way. We've been brainwashed by thousands of sappy emotional rom-coms to believe in the re-establishment of the ideal status quo, but it just doesn't happen. So no, I don't believe in love at first sight - I think love is something that needs to be worked at, built up over time, and then it will actually mean something. There can be an instant connection when you first meet someone, but that isn't love - it's just a mutual attraction. Plus, you can't ascertain every facet of someone's personality from "first sight," and real, proper love can never be based simply on appearances. But then again, I'm British and as such incredibly cynical when it comes to love. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Well, if we're not here to publicly advertise your thread by making it the featured thread in the forum directory then what are we here for, eh? Looking forward to the next chapter! [/SIZE]