Finally, something all right thinking people can agree on…

Well I have thought long and low about what was going to be given the non-coveted title of “A bit of a dick”. And here is what I have come up with this time:

• Tim Westood

I mean why? For the love of all that is good on this planet, what does he think that he is doing? The world doesn’t need a British middle class, son of a Bishop, private school boy pretending to be an African American.

There is a man in desperate need of a drive by. *Starts the car*

I won’t write anymore on this matter, as simply there is already so much, see his Wikipedia entry

He even lies about these things when asked about it, he has lied about his schooling and his age, and yet he is still on radio 1! There will be people that claim that he is “popular” and therefore has his place.

Hitler got voted in in 1933, that’s all I am saying. Popularity is the start of the slippery slope to mindless banality. If you use that as an argument and don’t want to better the human condition, then you will get the world that you deserve. And Westwood will be sexually molesting you in it. So “Drop da bom’” on that!

The blossom in the air drifts to the ground, like tiny ballerinas carried on the wind, falling gently onto the hard grey streets of the Victorian Square. The dark hair resting on my shoulder smells faintly of coconuts, and I lower my face gently to breathe in the aroma more deeply, and place a kiss gently and deliberately on her head.

She is miles, maybe even a millenia away, as she often is, but the sudden human contact brings her rushing back to reality. She looks up at me, with a light shining far beyond the real depth of her eyes, the colours dancing in time with her pulse. Breathing measured against mine, moving together and matching it’s speed. We were as one, relaxing into each other. Her smile speaks to me in a way that her voice alone could never hope to achieve. Words can be clumsy in the heat of the moment, like trying to paint a picture with a wallpaper paste brush, nothing there for the minute detail and passion, only the crudest of strokes.

Life moves around us, it is now late evening, and people are rushing home, to be with people that no longer made their hearts jump, so that they could prepare for another day of the same tomorrow.

Monotony and repetition were the rules of the game. We were different, and we shone as a beacon of what could be, what life could and should represent. People stopped in their self contained thoughts to look at us, and for a brief moment moved out to encompass us, as a mirror for their own lives. By just being there, as happy as we were made other people smile.

I, for once, said nothing. Not my strongest point in reality, knowing when to shut up, but something else was controlling me at that moment, utter love, adoration and the belief that I would somehow break it if I opened my mouth. I was operating on a different level.

We had been a couple for a few months, but I had known her for years by this time, so we knew each other well. In only a few months time the darkness of my mind would take me, and make me ruin the one thing that was right, but that devastation and desolation was yet to come. We were so right at that moment. Life is full of moments, choices, regrets, wrong and right decisions, and yet we all carry within us that one moment. The right moment, where nothing can possibly go wrong, and the world stands back and doesn’t interfere. This was mine.

The whole city kept a respectful distance, and seemed to be in a place of it’s own, and the reason was sat on the bench next to me. Breathing the same air as me, how could that happen? How could we be so close, such a beautiful person, with her own distinct thoughts and future, be sharing herself with me?

I could not believe that this was really happening, and of course that self doubt would be our downfall in the final act, where I would do my best to fulfill the thoughts that I didn’t deserve to be this happy by making her miserable, and pushing her away. A self fulfilling prophecy is the name for it I believe.

The traffic was almost close enough to touch, taxis, filthy buses, German cars with a lustre that would have made Hitler proud all moved by, stopping and starting like a scratched DVD. We paid scant attention to them, it was just a visual background noise, to the symphonic crescendo that we were moving towards.

I ran my fingers through her hair, and moved closer to her lips, the edge of her mouth lifting slightly into a smile, as she knew that we both wanted the same thing. Human warmth shared. We are all different, individual, and if you believe modern conditioning “special”. Yet almost all of us look for those moments that we share with other people, we define ourselves by other peoples opinions and feelings and this was my time to be me.

We have kept in sporadic touch over the intervening years, keeping each other updated on our lives and the way that things developed. In a way that makes it all worthwhile, although we shared so much in such a short time and then life took us in different directions, moved us apart, we still have a connection. A totally different one I admit, but it is there.

I am not claiming that this is the only special moment that I have shared with someone else, far from it, but it is the one that makes me smile the most. Odd really as there was nothing really going on apart from being in a beautiful place with a special person. No more, no less. Well, that and I had bought a new record, obviously.

http://www.b3ta.com/talk/2969917

Language is not safe for little ‘uns.

Click for bigger

I made this earlier today, my first image in ages, if you want to see some of my others, go here.

But I had to share this with you.

See you later.

Well, I upgraded the database and the version of the blogging software that I use, and of course the theme went tits up.

So I saw it as my chance to do something with it, I am aware that the pic is gone, but I like the colours now, easy to read, easy on the eye and of course fitting with the whole “trevs-shed” moody.

Comments are of course, more than welcome. Although they may be blithely ignored.

I have a theory that I want to share with you, and it is about roundabouts. No, wait, stay with me here.

You know that stars are created deep in the innards of a nebula, brought into being through the thrashing and boiling of gases slowly over millenia condensing into a beautiful, distinct and possibly life giving star?

Well I think that roundabouts coming into being in much the same way, they are formed in the superheated nebula that is Basingstoke, and gradually when they are big enough to move away, they slowly drift across the road network at night.

Don’t believe me? Then go to Basingstoke two days running, I guarantee that there will be new roundabouts the second time. The problem with my theory is, where do old roundabouts go to die, with every yin there has to be a yang. I am sharing this theory with you, as I, dear reader, have cracked it. Old roundabouts die on the outer ring roads of small towns across the whole country. You go see, there are dying roundabouts on ring roads all over the country.

Roadworks, on the other hand increase exponentially across the country, like a virus. They are sometimes there for some length of time, other times they go quite quickly, like a virus in a living organism.
In other news, I will soon be writing the next “A bit of a dick” award, any thoughts?

Have fun gang.

Well, if you look up you will see that I now have an icon for this page, and if you are viewing it in Firefox it will even be animated. Which is surely reason enough for all of you IE users to migrate, just so that you can see that in all of it’s majesty. (I may be overplaying it’s significance a little.)

If you go to www.trevs-shed.com you will see that I have redesigned that, it is not the final finished product unfortunately, it is another placeholder, but I have fixed all of the links. Oh and it is environmentally frinedly thanks to beth’s input. See here.

I will redesign the blog to be in the same colours at some point, but that means messing around with the CSS, and that is frankly one of my least favourite things, ranking above Les Dennis and below Marmite. Just for a frame of reference.

Today is my getting stuff done day, I have had two cancellations, so I have already applied for a job and tidied up the kitchen. Next I have some ‘phone calls to make, so I must away. Good day citizens!

*Swooshing noise as I fly off into the sky*

This post is something of a gearchange from my normal posts on here, but this is supposed to be my blog. With the laughter and mucking about that I show to the outside world, some people assume that is what I am really like. I wish that this were the case.

I am depressive, there I have said it. Even now I am fighting the temptation to make jokes as a way of making this more palatable. I am not going to do that this time. I want to try and explain to anyone that cares to read this a little of what it feels like if you are lucky enough to not have suffered from it. Or if you have, it might help you feel a little better knowing that you are not the only one.

If you want some funny, you would be better served jumping to one of the other posts, or listen to the podcasts, I promise I won’t try to be serious often, but I am having a bad time at the moment and I want to explain it to people.

For anyone that doesn’t know, I have been dealing with (I chose this word after some serious deliberation, battling and fighting seemed to, well melodramatic and self pitying.) depression basically since being a teenager.

Only now am I starting to get a handle on it, in my tragically unhip 30’s! I have had times when I have been very low, and been on medication. I even got close to suicide when I was 17, but a good friend saved me, which has become something of a theme for me, I have been very lucky with my friends. I am not bipolar or Manic Depressive as it used to be called, lot’s of creative people fall into this category, Stephen Fry and Spike Milligan being probably the most well known. I don’t have the highs, I am generally fairly normal and level most of the time, but when I am low I want to be on my own, hide from the world and cry in a darkened room.

I can, and do move on when this happens now, I do many different things to help with this:

• I try and get up and do something different
• I think about whether there is a reason for feeling low, and if there is try to address that.
• Get some exercise
• Oh, and this helps me, might not help you, I take Cod Liver oil capsules, the fish oils are supposed to help, it seems to help me. Hardly empirical facts I admit, but sometimes subjective is all I have, sorry and all that.

I am now able to feel them coming on, they seem to come in waves and if I am feeling low anyway, you know for normal everyday reasons then it can get to me and take over.

I wanted to write this as at the moment i am very low, but in this case I have good reasons, and I can now see this as positive, I know that makes as little sense as Eldorado making a comeback, but it’s true. Usually when depression is setting in, things get all out of perspective, I mean that something that isn’t important takes on far too much significance. Anyway, I will leave you with this, I feel very strongly that it is important that people that suffer from mental illness start to talk about it, then the stigma involved may start to be dispersed. I am not saying make a living off it, and use it as a crutch, I try to be open and honest with people when it comes up in conversation, and that it is part of the person that I am, and I am not proud of it, but neither am I embarrassed or ashamed.

Thanks for your indulgence.

Trev

Sorry for the above Trekkie thing, I am no Trekkie, but it always amused me that Scottie’s accent seemed to have been acquired somewhere between Glasgow and Mumbai.

Anyway, first I wanted to link to this I love them, he is an obscenely talented man. (If you don’t want to click without knowing what it is, 2 things spring to mind. 1: You have been hanging around b3ta too much, and you are dead to the horror that is “I love Horses”. 2: See 1.)

It is a link to all of the pixel pix of b3tans done by Folds Five, as seen of me below.

Last night I saw 300 with my ex wife, it was full of gore, blood, swearing and death, and that was before we got to the cinema (Badum Tischhhhh!).

Sadly the film was a great disappointment to me, it was close to excellence in places, but somehow really lacked something. Maybe I am just not gay enough, there did seem to be an awful lot of homo erotica in it. *Winds up the 300 zealots and waits for them to go*

It is a very stylish film and no mistake, some great lines, and the acting of the main characters was to a man very good at least. (Special mention goes to Gerard Butler as Leonidas, who was absolutely excellent, and Rodrigo Santoro who played Xerxes in a very androgynous and distant way)

But so much shouting, it was like being trapped forever in youth club disco. Oh, and black leather Speedo’s? I doubt that is historically accurate, and if that is your bag baby, then you might like a look at this.

It is a review of the graphic novel by people that know the history, but the comparisons stand. So in summary, by all means go and see it, but don’t expect Zulu, Sin City or even (God forbid) Gladiator.

Review ends.

Oh, and in an unrelated note you will find no April Fools stuff on here, as generally the kind of people that the need the excuse of a day to be “funny”, are like the people that need Valentines day as an excuse to be romantic and caring. Twunts. But sometimes companies and organisations do make funny Aprils Fools jokes, and this one is my favourite so far. You will probably have already seen it though. Special attention should be given to the FAQ.