You know, writing a blog ( known in today’s vernacular as ‘blogging’) is no easy task. Although it may appear to the untrained eye that I write the first thing that comes into my head without even glancing for bad punctuation, grammar use or syntactic errors, I actually don’t.
But even disregarding the technical aspect of ‘blogging’ (blogging! What will they think of next?), there is more to making it look like a random assortment of the twenty-five letters of the alphabet (I never use ‘z’ out of principal, except back there, but that was for explanatory purposes, and except for the word ‘pizzle‘, which simply demands to be used, to the point of becoming hackneyed).
Sometimes the most difficult part of writing is not the words, or word structure, or knowing what to write: it’s flow.
I can spend an eternity writing the opening sentence, deleting it, rewriting it, realising I’m going to hit a dead-end, sit thinking about it with pen in hand, get frustrated, then forget the whole idea and go and get really drunk. This was nearly one of those situations, and only exists because of this rather long aside.
Anyway, the original point of this entry was going to be that last Saturday I met Peppe Eng ( a well-known Swedish sports journalist/commentator who has become even more well-known due to a recent appearence on some celebrity ‘learn different dance styles every week and embarrass yourself on national TV by showing that you dance like a pelican with a stick up its arse’ dance show/competition), and that Inger performed two short dance routines with him; however, in getting this entry together I ended up, after every failed attempt and deletion, going to play my latest PS2 acquisition, a psychedelic Beatmania game, Frequency.
Three or four days of tapping shoulder buttons in progressively anarchic and near impossible combinations has led to me seeing the game when I close my eyelids. A sure sign, then, that this game rocks.
I was particularly chuffed with this purchase because it’s an old game, sought after by the cognoscenti, and I got it brand-spankling new for a tenner at some Toys R Us style shop.
Although ten pounds of good quality LSD would get you extremely fucked for a very long time, this is a good second choice, with the added benefit that your friends get also get arsed for the same money. Like Rez, this game is a work of art.
Oh, did I mention that I met Peppe Eng?