All my lazy teenage boasts are now high precision ghosts
And they're coming round the track to haunt me.
When she looks at me and laughs I remind her of the facts
I'm the king of rock'n roll completely

Firstly I don't know whether to congratulate or threaten to kill the people at Turn 10 for making Forza 4 and all it's DLC. To be honest I probably could have spent my (in excess of) 145 hours of playing in a more contstructive manner but I didn't. Instead I have spent it bombing around Le Mans or the Top gear test track at breakneck speeds in cars I cannot afford, or even drive (I have still not learned). I mean let's face it when am I going to get the chance to climb inside an Aston Martin 1-77? I'd have more chance of climbing inside Lily Allen and that's the sad truth of it.

Still at least there's a game to pander to my every automotive perversion, but sadly not of my other perversions where several of Hollywood's finest ladies have a naked pillow fight but I am nothing if not a hopeful man.

Anyway back to turn 10's masterpiece in racing games it's let's face it the nearest I'll get to being a star in the reasonably priced car or even the owner of a hell of a lot of cars. For the first time ever I've found a racing simulator that allows me to just race if I wish or as has happened I get bored and soup up a Smart FourTwo to make it go 138 MPH (see picture above). I have a garage that as far as I'm aware only Beaulieu motor museum and Jay Leno can better for sheer size. So far I have 190 cars and am willing to share them with anyone who wants to join my car club, (gamertag: gunnawho).

This coupled with a new found interest in motorsports like BTCC and F1 have kind of set out my financial road map for the next year. It all happened one day whilst watching a very old download of the Monaco GP and then straight afterwards the 1970 Steve McQueen movie Le Mans. I want to go to at least one of those, both if I can afford it. I will have to give up such luxuries as eating and will have to cut back on breathing but then at least I will have a chance to try out my new camera equipment. Murray Walker once said "If you went to any Formula 1 Grand Prix it would have to be Monaco". Who am I to argue with that?

All that is assuming that I can remain employed and not go absolutely ballistic on members of staff or the public for being morons. This, as I'm sure I've told you before is becoming harder and harder as we speak. Thankfully I only get paid to be nice to people between the hours of 9-6 after that they can go fornicate with themselves. I mean how can I be expected to help you if you don't know what it is called, how to describe it or what it does? Similarly if I ask how long you need it don't just tell me it needs to go between one room and the next, it doesn't help. I thought I'd left the dumbasses behind when I left Wilkinson's but apparently not. They followed me here, being a hermit seems to have its advantages. Maybe I could be one of those Hugh Hefner types when I win the lottery? You know sad old man in a dressing gown who surrounds himself with 'models' who all disappear once they are 28 ala Logan's Run. I think that's how it happens. Anyway I want to be someone's sugar daddy it seems a nice job.

PS for those of you wanting the Specials cd to be uploaded as soon as Demonoid lets me upload a torrent an doesn't tell me "You've recently changed your email and therefore can't upload shit." (paraphrasing of course) I will post it.

"You don't like me, but you love me
Either way you're wrong
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone"

As I mentioned in my last post I'm currently addicted to Forza 4.  This in itself is highly unusual as I normally get about three races in and fail to qualify for anything further.  Recent games that have incurred my wrath and joined the small number of games that I actually trade in have been Blur, The Grid and Need for speed:Hot Pursuit and NfS:The Run.  Short story long is that I can't do racing games unless it was outrun and then only if I sat in the giant plastic Ferrari Testa Rossa replica version in the arcade.  Donkey Kong Racing being the exception rather than the rule.  The fact that I'm seemingly in no hurry to get to the small pile of games I bought and haven't played since getting Forza 4 is testament to my addiction.  Some eight weeks have passed and I've bought all the DLC and souped up cars to no end ( I now have a Range Rover that will make Ferraris into little red dots in the rear view mirror), 

I have also downloaded a whole host of videos from  WRC, F1 and Nascar from all sorts of vintages  I have whole seasons of F1 from Ye Olde Tymes when I used watch Messrs Mansell, PIquest, Senna and Prost, then Schumaker and Hill etc.  I find myself not agreeing with the lines that they take through certain corners on many of the tracks... despite these people and those more recent ones like Vettel, Hamilton and Webber being the ultimate in drivers and me just some fat bloke sitting on a cheap sofa who dreams of going to the Monaco Grand Prix or even better Le Mans armed only with a camera and a child like enthusiasm for roaring machines that he himself can't actually drive.

I think Forza has made me into a twelve year old again, albeit a twelve year old with 950 times the pocket money I actually got.  I say this because being on leave from work for the first time in nearly six months and being bored having not planned anything other than to sit and play Forza I found Motorsport artworks to put on my wall.... I say artworks they are only just a step up from posters ripped from one of my childhood magazines.

Providing that we don't all die on the eve of the birth of the baby Jeebus because of all the planets lining up or the coming of Damien doesn't happen I plan to go to at least one interesting thing next year.  The arse groove on my sofa may actually disappear.

"Talking bout Monroe and walking on Snow White
New York's a go-go and everything tastes nice
Poor little Greenie, woh ho
Get back home"

The older I get the less I understand in life.  Here are a list of just a few of them.
The attraction of Cher Lloyd.
People who wearscarves and hats with a t shirt in the cold but no coat.
People who wear perfectly good trousers and then have them hanging below their bumcakes.
People who feel the need to dress like Superman to go on a pub crawl.
Dancing.
Jewellery, no idea as to why that's popular.
Justin Beiber,
Nicholas Cage.
TOWIE. (I am certain that if I hold my ear to Amy Child's head I will hear the sea).
How people STILL don't know metric measurments.
Why people ask me for 'Start' cables and 'Preview' boxes.
Lloyds security who rang me up to say we've noticed that you spent a lot of money all at once and then nothing when you were overdrawn and it happened four weeks ago as well.
But most of all I am completely stumped as to why shoplifters seem to think they are invisible and why the drunks come into my shop and still think they won't be noticeably drunk to someone who is stone cold sober.   
The cold hard  some say, cruel fact is that the older I get the less I understand.  I fully expect to be found one day dressed in only my dressing gown shouting at ducks in the park.  But until then I shall drive my collection of vintage cars around the racetracks of the world hell for leather.  Sadly only on Forza 4.

"Who am I to say?
Who am I to say?
Am I just a hypocrite?
Another piece of your bullshit
Am I the dog the bit, the hand of the man that feeds it?"

Well it has been quite a while since I last posted and I'm sorry for that.  But in my defence it has been quite a busy year end what with all the games I keep playing. MW3, BF3, Batman Arkham City, Battlefield Bad Company 2: Vietnam, Battlefield 1943 and Medal of Honour.  BFBC2:Vietnam is the one that's really been keeping me occupied though.  I must admit that nicking someone's dog tags from them can be quite entertaining... especially as has happened to me  on several occasions I manage to sneak up on a General of the army with a level of 50 and me currently on a rank of 21 (First sergeant gold).  I am quite the new convert to online gaming and as such I've become quite the zealot.  It has been noted that I am a born again gamer.  

Still it could be worse, I mean what is more rewarding to me?  A quiet realisation that I've spent 3 hours shooting complete strangers in the face or that I've vegetated in front of an hour of Britain's got celebrities on ice get me the x factor out of here?  Mind you the first time I played online with BF3 I jumped in a helicopter determined to be of some use to my fellow gamers on that level when I rose majestically three feet in the air and flipped over onto my rotors landed and died, I have checked for 'Ultimate Helicopter fail' on You Tube but have so far not seen myself.  I am now better than that and can sometimes go for a whole five minutes without a major meeting of helicopter and ground.

By the way if any of you have been holding off on buying either  BF3 or MW3 then let me just urge you to do so.  MW3 is just shit hot on every level I haven't found anything to not like yet whether it is the single player, multiplayer or co-op levels, BF3 though is weak on the single player, it leans too heavily towards CoD:Black Ops for my tastes but is just excellent on the multiplayer.  I need more time to play these games, maybe if I win the lottery?  I'd only miss the cunt-stomers in my shop. (I love it when they misquote retail law at me it's fun).

So far I've only played BFBC2 Vietnam online for just over two days so not even come close to the length of time that I was in the wild west with Red Dead Redemption.  Mind you most of that time was due to the incessant galloping across the plains on a bloody horse that I'd inadvertently shoot in the back of the head from time to time... or I'd get eaten to death by a magical bear that would appear from out behind a tree. 
You must admit though the gaming world is a much more pleasant one than the one we all struggle about in whilst miserable as sin.  I've often said that the world would be a better place if there weren't other people in it.  But I'll end this blog by stating for the record (just in case), that if I decide to have a bit of a gun related tiff in the high street that it has absolutely nothing to do with my incessant gaming just that I've had one too many arsehole cunt-stomers to deal with. 

"And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed

they were not here."

You know I've been to several gigs over the years both large and small. I helped to create the earthquake at Madstock in 1992. I have seen Bad Manners quite literally rock the stage until the speakers fell over at the Blandford corn exchange. I was there in 1993 in France when Russell from the mighty Bigshot wandered over to me and told me he “Couldn't play as his lips were pissed.” I've seen ska legends like Prince Buster, Pauline Black and I've had my pen stolen by Laurel Aitken. I've seen groups as diverse as Mud, 808 state, Carter the unstoppable sex machine, The Buzzcocks , Morrissey, 999 and The UK Subs. I've also shouted/sung myself hoarse to Ian Dury twice.

That said the other night's excursion to the Specials tour was something rather … special (sorry). I enjoyed my annual 'being dragged out to the Bournemouth International Centre by Jimmy' last year when I went to see Paul Weller. That in itself was a fantastic concert populated as it was by 50 something mods in their 'just unpacked from the army surplus' parkas complete with the tell tale square crease in the back.

27th of October however is a day that I shall not forget in a hurry.... and not just because I've been constantly playing the gig on my iPod for the last week either. After the two support bands, By the Rivers and Stone Foundation had both done their excellent sets and had praised the crowd for being better than Brighton and Plymouth in atmosphere and actually interacting with them The Specials began.
A brief slide show began on the backdrop starting as it did with the enormous visage of Herr Margaret Thatcher to rapturous boos.  This was appropriate as we all know the band came to the attention of the world on the post punk wave of anger that followed the winter of discontent of James Callaghan's Labour party that lead to the inevitable rise of Thatcher's evil reign. (long memory very angry still).  Anyway the slide show continued with the heroes and villains of the last thirty years, British troops (cheers), Paul Gascoine (big cheers) royal couples (mixed cheers and boos), Blair, Brown and Cameron (enormous boos) and then all of a sudden John Barry's theme from the Persuaders dies down and Neville greets all with the now famous opening “Bernie Rhodes knows don't argue.”  

 The years fell away for all us elderly Rude Boys and Girls.  There was none of the usual minutes of banter between songs for the first few tracks at least. The set list was almost all of the two albums.  No Guns of Navarone or Skinhead Symphony but here's the set list. 

01-Intro – Gangsters
02-Do The Dog
03-Dawning of a New Era
04-Up To You
05-Monkey Man
06-Blank Expression
07-Rat Race
08-Too Hot
09-Doesn't Make it Alright
10-Hey Little Rich Girl
11-Pearl's Cafe
12-Stupid Marriage
13-Concrete Jungle
14-International Jet Set
15-Friday Night Saturday Morning
16-Stereotypes (parts 1&2)
17-Man at C & A
18-Do Nothing
19-A Message To You Rudy
20-Nite Klub
21-Too Much Too Young
22-Enjoy Yourself
23-Ghost Town
24-Little Bitch
25-You're Wondering Now

A cracking set altogether I think you'll agree. Terry was funny all through the night with his remarks about “You'd better be worth it I'm missing fucking Sarah Beeny's restoration project for this.” Linval came out and told us all we were the best crowd on the tour so far during the interval before the encore. Yeah sure there was no Jerry Dammers, Dick Cuthell or Rico Rodiguez but the keyboardist and brass section did a more than adequate job to fill in for them. The three string instruments at the back added to the sound and I'm glad I bought the cd. To be honest out of the five gigs or so that I've been to at the B.I.C. This was the most packed I'd ever seen it, even Apul Weller and Madness had space at the side of the Wessex hall dancefloor.

Despite Terry's insistence on singing Wham's Last Christmas and declaring his love for George Michael the set continued and I could see the mass of skinheads and feather cuts danced and bobbed away and danced and sang as the music played... sounds familiar, anyway as I sat in the best seats in the house, (thanks again Emma), I felt my age by thinking how glad I was to be not on the dancefloor what with my bad back and all. Mind you most of the crowd below were my age group and it was just me being a curmudgeon or realising I'm no longer 19 take your pick.

If you get a chance to go to this or the hinted at 2013 tour go for the love of all that is precious go. I spoke to several of my cunt-stomers in the shop the next day who had obviously gone to the gig and we were all unanimous that it was the best gig we'd all been to in a loong long time.

If I told you things I did before, told you how I used to be
Would you go along with someone like me
If you knew my story word for word, had all of my history
Would you go along with someone like me

Well it's been a while hasn't it?   Sorry about that, I'd like to say that it's because I've been bust banging away at the keyboard writing the latest in a series of hit novels.  But alas it's because I've been banging away at the PS3 and Xbox 360 controllers.  Even more alas not because I've been banging away at Anne Hathaway either.  Still since we last partook of this drivel I've been to Norfolk to the wonderful company of my niece, nephew and sister.  The photo of the phone box above is the one that I originally planned my escape from.  I did this whilst no one was looking by ringing up my Gran and cunningly asking if I could come and live with her in Bournemouth.  Then once it was half day closing in Norfolk and everyone else was asleep like Bagpuss and his friends I sneaked out aboard the National Express Rapide service to London Victoria.

All that seems like quite a lifetime ago now and for some of you it probably was, 1990,  England had just crashed out in the quarter finals of the world cup in Italy and Gazza was suddenly famous for crying and kicking a ball about and I still drank beer.  I had the waistline of 30" and could do whatever I could afford to drink and still get up for work in the morning.  Now I feel pain if I get up the next morning after a session of gaming.  It was nice to go to the old country even if nothing has changed much, apart from all the pound shops have gone from Cromer and Great Yarmouth makes Blackpool look classy.  I tell you if you could get the Jeremy Kyle show to cast a big net over Great Yarmouth he'd have enough guests to film well into his 43rd series.  Honestly if you like fat women in vest tops that clearly show the tattoos of their children's names on their breasts and scrawny men in sportswear then Great Yarmouth is the place for you.  Also imagine my feelings as I wander around the many crappy souvenir shops when at the head height of my two pre teen relations were not one but several spread over a two meter wide shelf, no end of ornaments shaped like gentlemen's vegetables.  Nearly every shop I had to stand between the kids and certain shelves, then if it wasn't bad enough that I had to contend with a few people for whom the Johnson & Johnson company could not help a whole shelf of gollywog dolls loomed into view.

I did try though to get my sister to buy a present for her mother for whom we have the code name 'GB' which stands for ginger bitch, but she insisted that she would definitely not appreciate a miniature headstone with the epitaph 'In loving memory' which would be a lie in itself. Some people just don't appreciate the thought you put into gifts for them. I've always said that I hope she dies on the same day as Margaret Thatcher that way I'll only spend one day of my life dancing.  Anyway we went to the fun park near the pier for the kids and I must say that I know that I joke that Norfolk has the ability to appear as if nothing ever happens or changes but in this case it truly hadn't.  It was the exact same rides as when my sis and I went there in the late seventies or early eighties.  No wonder the staff looked bored its still 1978.  Speaking of which I failed to find a 1978 Norwich shirt in my travels although having spent most of my money on the kids and only ten quid on myself I would have found one the moment I was skint.  I did however manage for some reason to buy myself a 1940's Tommy helmet, not quite the same as the long looked for Naaaaarch city shirt but there you go.  As souvenirs from holidays go it's not one you would usually associate with a quick break away.  I could paint on it some phrases to make it seem more in keeping with my holiday like the traditional 'Kiss me quick' adding 'I taste of KFC' or the more appropriate 'I went to Great Yarmouth and all I got was a sense of moral outrage'.

"I am not a sailor
I am not a sailor I'm captain
I'm captain I'm captain

Bamba, bamba
Bamba, bamba
Bamba, bamba
Bamba"

There are many things in my life that I am disappointed with, my lack of a sex life, my lack of financial gains via the lottery also that a great deal of my customers continue to breath.  How people let you down either personally or just in their actions.  The one thing that I'm never disappointed in is myself, this mainly because I never expect much of me and I've yet to be proven wrong.  The main thing I'm totally frustrated with is the fact that I now have to work until I'm 70 thanks to successive failing governments.  It's the equivalent of running a hundred miles and they then move the finishing line another thirty kilometres.  Of course the latest thing to disappoint me in a long line of disappointments wasn't the fact that Murdoch was figuratively throwing small crippled children behind him to the tigers that were chasing him during the whole News International phone hacking scandal but the fact that two large people who weren't exactly starving and penniless won the Euro lotto £166 million.
Imagine the deep fried Mars bars those two Scots could buy.  I could have done so much good with all that money... and some of it may have been directed towards others.  My long desired trip across the states in a vehicle of some description would have been high on my list of priorities.  Although the older and lazier I get it has changed somewhat.  Once upon a time I would have done it in a classic fifties muscle car like a GTO or a large caddy.  Whereas nowadays I want to do it in a large motorhome that has a PS3 and/or Xbox 360 in it not to mention all the comforts of home like a shower and a bed etc.  The older I get the more I think "well I keep all that stuff at home why not just stay there?"  This of course would have been totally abhorrent to my younger self and he to me also.
The only non disappointment was the tank festival at Bovington, sad man that I am I stood in a field for several hours looking at tanks go round a circuit.  Very nice tanks but a load of tanks nonetheless.  I had one of the sandwiches pictured above.  It may not look that appetising to you and admittedly it wasn't presented very well in the photo.  But organically reared and butchered hog roast.  Spit roasted in front of you and freshly cooked.  It was lovely with the still hot meat and stuffing with apple sauce on top.  I can honestly say that I looked forward to that as much as the Tank festival itself.
Speaking of disappointments my zombie novel is almost ready to send of to some publishers, just a few more tweaks and I'll be happy.  Whether it'll ever get published I don't know I just hope that it's better than the worst novel I ever read or shared with several people who all told me exactly the same thing about the book.  I also started the story set in the Britpop era but I got stuck so I carried on with the war time story and then also got stuck and haven't written for weeks.  I also wrote a script for an ex friend who let me don't recently which I thought was quite good and so did he.  I've been mulling ideas for the stories in my head and may have to get back to them soon as I want to go Hulk on many of the local residents in town.
Still I have to go back in time soon and visit Norfolk that'll cheer me up to see my favourite Niece and Nephew and my sister who'll probably continue to tell me off for buying her a nice tv. I think it's because it'll scare the locals what with it's electricity and tiny talking people.

"Some people think I'm bonkers
But I just think I'm free
Man I'm just living my life
There nothing crazy about me
Some people pay for thrills but I get mine for free
Man I'm just living my life
There nothing crazy about me."

 Occasionally we get an interesting customer, not often but just every now and then.  One such person came into my store and  purchased four jump starters at £30.00 quid each I thought perhaps he had a taxi firm or something, no nothing so mundane.  As I helped him carry the big old boxes across to his car in the multi storey (no bloody tip), he told me that he was fighting pirates in the Red sea and they had these things called LRADs (see diagram) Long Range Acoustic Device in non military speak.  He seemed disappointed that I knew what they were, maybe he was trying to catch me out?  They do that you know, tricky little fuckers these customers.  Anyway whilst I was thinking for the rest of the day that other people have much more interesting lives and are allowed to harm others with lethal and non lethal weapons and I'm not, which I think is unfair, I was wondering if I could make one for all those scumbag shoplifters?

The thought cheered me up no end as I imagined myself plugging it in and taking over the world with my death ray until they unplugged it and carted me off to Arkham Asylum.  I'd test it out on two of my former friends whom I'm very disappointed in.  I won't say what they did but they know and It's cost them some of the best friends they would have had.  Still their loss.

Just found these links

Here and here

I have a week off coupled with the fact that it starts on a pay day I could build the thing.... or more likely I'll just go to that there London and spend my wages in Forbidden planet.