Daily archives: January 15, 2003

Garage Comics

Matt Fraction puts forward an argument for a new attitude amongst comics creators.

Make the kind of thing you want to be seen reading. Make the kind of thing that can get you laid. Read comics in public.

These things we make should be enviable. Read comics to pick up girls. Or boys.

Whichever you prefer.

Comics that can get you laid? That’s my kind of comics!

Two Lanes Good, Four Lanes Bad

My hatred of drivers never really went away. I’m sure they’re lovely people in real life, but I have to face them during their internal combustion lobotomy phase. Having said which….. There are lots of stretches of road in Manchester that could use a cycle lane, so which idiot had some made where there was already an off road cycle path?

Read all about it…

Obviously Mr Frost didn’t. I mentioned the Amazon recommendation last week I think. Or is team Spinneyhead on a mission to mention it lots to see if it gets us noticed? We wouldn’t be that lame, would we? <--- That was my text as I want to write it. But I thought I'd check on whether I published the comments about the dirty underwear recommendations last week or before. But now I can't find them, so there's no proof I did write it. I blame it on the Government. or Ian.

Anyway, on a slight tangent, the subject of some spam in my inbox: “Attract men with bigger tits”. Something tells me I read that the wrong way. I started thinking of Meat Loaf in Fightclub.


I just saw this in the list of recommendations whilst browsing on Amazon.com

Customers who wear clothes also shop for:

Clean Underwear from Amazon’s Target Store

It raises two issues. Firstly, do they have a lot of customers that don’t wear clothes. Secondly, are they in the habit of selling dirty underwear? It strikes me as a bit of a niche market. At this point you’re thinking “he’s stupid, it’s a brand called Clean”. I followed the link and it wasn’t. They honestly seem to feel a need to specify that it’s clean underwear.

Four wheels good, two wheels bad

Three days of cycling to work and Ian’s hatred of cars and their drivers has returned. As a result I feel the need to balance things out by venting my completely rational hatred of mopeds. Which bright spark came up with the idea of a form of motorised transport for people who are too young or too crap to get a either full bike or car license? I’d like to know what part of the moped test tells them that weaving between rows of moving cars is a safe and normal practice. Why do their engines make that annoying buzzing sound? It sounds like the thing is powered by an aggravated bee and from their speed I think they might be. And finally, why don’t they just give up their stupid little suicycles and get the fucking bus until they can afford some grown-up transport.

Okay, I think I’m losing control of my anger. I feel a strong urge to buy an SUV and invade a country to get the oil required to run it. I think I should take a stress pill and lie down.

Heavensent- Chapter 8, Part 7

The choke points either side of Stran Island created turbulent water as the tide rose. Warm, murky sea water streamed past currents of cold, clear fresh water in a complex jumble of flows that messed with the buoyancy of the Pigs as they tried to traverse the gap.

Breaking into a pocket or current of fresh water whilst trimmed for the sea could have the manned torpedoes plummeting toward the rocky bed. Conversely, trimming for fresh water could drive them up to broach the surface. Which was exactly what happened to North 3.

As they started to rise the pilot desperately tried to take on water and adjust the trim, but it was too late. The tail broke surface first, the propeller spinning up a froth. The bucking as the tube tried to settle in the waves threw the second crewman off then cracked the Pig down on him.

The limp body floated away, caught in the main flow of the current that had caused the catastrophe. The second crewman was the person who attached the explosives to the ship�s hull whilst the pilot held station. The pilot was turning toward the current to follow when a patrol boat rounded the island. He urged the tanks to fill faster and take him to a safe running depth.

There was a shout, the second crewman, in underwater gear complete with air tanks, had been spotted. The boat raced toward the limp body. The Pig was nearly under water, but the pilot, high in the saddle, was still exposed. Something splashed in the water to his right. He looked up and saw muzzle flashes from the autoguns on the boat�s bridge.

There were more splashes to his left. He frantically turned the arming key. It clicked as he primed the long fuse, a few more turns and he would arm the short fuse. Twin lines of splashes churned up the water and converged on the Pig. The pilot was hit several times and was dead before his body started to slide off the Pig.


Is there something about getting into a car that turns some people into inconsiderate arseholes and lowers their IQ? Stretches of Oxford Road have a cycle lane, which should be a good thing. Except that some drivers coming out of the side roads have decided the gap is actually there for their benefit, so they can edge an extra two feet out into the road and remain protected from the stream of traffic going by. Of course, it doesn’t matter to them that this pushes those of us on two wheels out into the traffic they want to stay safe from.

If I wasn’t such a nice person I’d invest in a pair of sturdy metal pedals and start scraping them along peoples bumpers when they blocked my right of way. Alternatively, I could find out what the local Critical Mass folks are doing and start going on their demos again.


I started taking the Omeprazole (Prilosec) again yesterday. It didn’t work on the little bastard last time for various reasons and the side effects were actually worse than the ulcer. Maybe this time I’ll get it right (I’m giving up coffee next week because it inhibits the drug) because I’d hate to go through all that pain again for no real effect or change.