Wilde thoughts

Predictions for Formula One in 2012

2012-02-06T13:58:00.000Z

I'm itching to sit down and watch the F1, I'm even tempted by Sky now that I know they'll be showing GP2 and GP3 coverage too. We have our annual season review and curry session coming up and no doubt there will be plenty of speculation as to the events of the upcoming season.

Some of these are quite silly and I may not share them with my F1 collective but at least they are here, on the internet now. If any of them are correct, expect me to brag.

Kimi Raikonnen will be fucking amazing and will be able to beat the Mercedes
Mark Webber won't tolerate Sebastian Vettel's dominance and we'll therefore see them being more evenly matched
Nico Hulkenberg will do much, much better than team mate Paul Di Resta
A few podiums for Lotus
Toro Rosso might be a bit more consistent this year
Lewis Hamilton will get his act together and actually drive like he has the talent to
Mark Webber will stop having dire starts
Caterham will be worthy of the back of the mid-field
Tyre strategy will be more important than ever and as a result Jenson Button will do well
My obsession with Fernando Alonso will grow...

The end

(Picture-wise this may seem like a very McLaren-dominated post. Well, the car is pretty and Martin Whitmarsh looks good in a suit, so there.)

SOPA/PIPA

2012-01-20T12:33:00.000Z

Mr. Wilde and I had a heated conversation the other night about all this anti-piracy stuff. I'm not for it, of course, I enjoy all my piracy.

However I was making the point that downloading stuff was wrong (although not so wrong that it would stop me, or the average internet user but it was illegal and I understood why).

He said, if something was aired on television he is allowed to watch but he misses it why shouldn't he be allowed to download it?

Firstly because he is keeping it and secondly because of the way in which he downloads it.

The people who put TV shows and movies on a torrent site are doing so illegally with the intent to breach copyright laws and distribute that film/show. It doesn't matter if it's perfectly legal for a friend of ours to record said TV show on his TV and give it to us on disk/tape.

Mr. Wilde kept making the point that it is not illegal for our friend to record something off Sky and give it to us to watch (as people who don't have Sky.) But that's not why piracy is illegal.

In another context...

Just because you are allowed to eat cake does not mean that people are allowed to steal cake to feed to you. That's sort of what is happening here. Sort of.

But anyway, fuck all that. Let's keep the interwebs as it is, please. You can sign the petition at: http://americancensorship.org/

You don't see anorexic fat people

2011-12-05T12:52:00.000Z

I want to touch on a rather sensitive subject of eating disorders. I am by no means pro-ED but I do follow the Thinspo tag on Tumblr and it does motivate me. I understand that some anorexic habits can help you to lose weight but essentially it's a destructive path that no one should have to face. Those suffering with eating disorders often do it alone or in secrecy. Not all of them want to to get out of the bad habits.

Following the Thinspo tag on Tumblr I've learned a lot about eating disorders. I look at pictures of skinny, fit women for inspiration. It really helps me to see what I could one day achieve. However, seeing your entire ribcage is not sexy but that's a post for another day.

People only start getting worried about anorexic (or bulimic) tendencies when someone starts getting to a healthy weight. Yet there are girls out there who are overweight and starving themselves to get thin. But, because they are losing weight, it's okay. A healthy weight is a good thing so do whatever the hell you can to get there!

You can be 200lbs and have an eating disorder. Even if an ED does help you to lose weight it's not healthy. Surely these illnesses can be prevented from getting so bad that someone dies if they are caught earlier.

I was saying to Mr. Wilde how I feel guilty even when I eat the smallest amounts of foods and how any calories seem like too many. He told me to get out of that mindset because it was bad, wrong and if it got worse could kill me. I weight 190lbs. He noticed it. Does anyone notice it for the poor chubby girls on Tumblr who are literally doing anything they can to get thin?

This is a topic that frustrates me no end. Fat people can have bulimia or anorexia but more often than not no one notices because they are beginning to look better and society dictates that is a good thing. 80lbs later they could be in an unbreakable cycle they see as a habit that has earned them praise on losing weight and looking better. They'll want to continue that and probably won't know when to stop.

(Images: Just some examples of what gets posted under Thinspo on tumblr. I'm not saying either of those girls are anorexic. They look pretty healthy to me.)

Review: Black Mirror

2011-12-05T11:06:00.000Z

Photo: Channel 4

Holy fuck. Something I liked!

Charlie Brooker (known mainly for complaining about things) has made a few hour-long shows, the first of which was broadcast last night. Black Mirror, on the surface, was about the Prime Minister being forced into sex with a pig on live TV, all to save a princess.

It certainly got Twitter thinking. The Black Mirror tag was full of speculation over whether or not David Cameron would do such a thing if Kate was kidnapped. However, a lot of people were asking 'what's the point?' and 'was there a moral to that?'

Yes, of course there was. The point is the state of the human race and how we get excited by another person's suffering. The whole thing could've been avoided if everyone in the UK had refused to tune into the act. However, EVERYONE tuned in.

There's also the point that the media and the internet cannot be controlled. The fact that #blackmirror was trending worldwide on Twitter was beautiful irony.

A well thought out show. The Turner Prize nod was brilliant (and relevant) and I can't wait for next week's. It seemes to be about a televised talent show and will be broadcast right after the X Factor final. Utter perfection.

Charlie Brooker is a genius. There's not much that can make me squirm but that most certainly did.

Just for the record, I would watch. Although I'd rather Nick Clegg was involved too.

Did you see it? What did you think?

The 99%

2011-11-21T14:10:00.000Z

Okay. I sit quite snugly in the 99%. I don't know anyone in the 1%.

Am I right in thinking that all these protests are against the 1% because we all work hard but in the end our money goes straight to them? Or is it just general anti-capitalist woe?

The 1% have no doubt worked very hard to be where they are today. The bankers in question probably started out as bank clerks and cashiers before moving up the food chain.

I agree they shouldn't be getting huge bonuses on top of their six-figure (seven-figure?) salaries but they've done well for themselves. Better than the uneducated (or perhaps those in the process of being educated - students like to protest, right?) and unemployed who seem set on complaining about everything rather than doing something about the life they aren't happy with.

I'm 23, I got A-levels but didn't go to university. I earn more than anyone I know in my age range. Why? Because I worked hard at it. I was unemployed for a while, got a shit job to pay the bills but all the while I was doing things that would either look good on my CV or would get me into the position to meet people who might want to employ me.

If you are sitting in a tent at one of the various protest sites around the world surely you don't have a job... Isn't the complaint that the 99%'s wages are going to the 1%?

I'm fairly sure that the protesters are unemployed, anti-capitalist hippies who just want something to complain about but I'd be happy to be proved wrong.

I'd be one of the first to agree that the government and the economy needs sorting out. Bankers shouldn't be giving themselves 49% pay rises and their staff just 2.5%. It's clear that people are struggling and we are sinking into another recession but what will camping outside a church do about it?

London, groping, men and dancing

2011-11-14T10:53:00.000Z

I went to London over the weekend to meet with some girls I write with. After a very lengthy (and not all that great) meal at Jamie's Italian we headed to a nearby bar. That gorgeous establishment happened to be Yates's. Not the classiest of places and it did cost us £7 (fuck you, London) to get in but there was music and booze.

It started as we were standing at the bar. Blokes groping, grabbing and trying to talk to us. Looking at them with a friendly 'no' did nothing. 'Fuck off' eventually did the job.

Then we danced and they were like flies to shit. My arse was grabbed, blokes kept trying to take me by the hand to dance with them. I was talked to, 'sexy' danced against. It was horrible. This was all when there were seven of us women dancing and they didn't get much less.

Some girls filtered away leaving me and another (we were fucking sexy but not provocatively dressed) to dance.

We danced and soon there was this congregation of men around us touching, dancing and trying to kiss my friend. This went on for a while with us making it very clear we weren't interested. Eventually we had a congregation of men around us simply watching, not touching. I suppose that would have to do. We tuned them out and got on with our night out.

Something must be seriously wrong with society that makes men think it is appropriate to treat women like that. If a bloke wants to get with a girl then eye contact, plus dancing in the same area makes sense. If a woman makes it very clear she is not interested hen that should be that. But these men cannot take no for an answer.

This could be down to the women that say no then continue to dance sexily alongside some man. So any other women that say no must just be playing hard to get.

No means no you wankers.

This is a perfect example of our don't get raped culture.

Instead of telling us women what we can do to not get raped someone needs to tell these men about appropriate behaviour. It doesn't matter if you are drunk or simply cruising for a shag. It is not appropriate to grope women in a club.

Do some girls go for that?

I'd like to know your experiences of this.

Living the dream and being miserable about it

2011-09-16T09:11:00.000Z

Mr. Wilde and I are grown ups. Last weekend we trawled round banks and estate agents setting ourselves up to buy a house. That was the easy part, the difficult part was finding the house.

The numbers, money, planning and research is all fine but I am terrified when it comes to the actually house part because I know EXACTLY what it is I want.

Last night I found it but Mr. Wilde isn't sure. Now there's this horrible thing hanging over my head but I don't know what it is. I can't get rid of it but it's making me live in fear that something, maybe even Mr. Wilde's indecision, will stop us from getting the glorious house.

I've felt like this before and it ended in heartbreak. Looking back we didn't go with the three storey four bedroom house for good reason but there is no reason we shouldn't get this. If it were down to me I'd go for another viewing this weekend just to check things like what sort of cooker it has, where the plug sockets are and where the cat's litter tray would go.

I had dreams last night of sanding and painting a little set of shelves to display my shoes and reupholstering a chair in skull-print fabric. I'm far too much on the emotional side of the spectrum, if I were logical like Mr. Wilde then I might be able restrain myself to mull it all over.

I asked him:
- Do you like it?
- Can you see yourself living there?

To both he answered yes. I said to him that I'd know when we found The House. I know and when we were looking round it he said that he knew too. He's very restrained when it comes to money so he has to think long and hard about everything he buys, even if it's a pair of jeans. He is by no means as frivolous as I am but I feel like he's going to talk himself out of a house that is utterly perfect for us.

I want to cry. I don't know how to handle this.

Fucking waiting

2011-07-15T14:26:00.000Z

Have you ever wanted something so much it hurts and it's so close but you have to wait?

I'm doing that now, waiting for an email that could change my life. If that email says yes then I'm going to be over the moon but it just isn't arriving despite what was said. I think I may be waiting until Monday but I'm making myself sick over this.

I need to think positive thoughts and tell this sickening worry and anticipation to bugger off and leave me alone. I can't eat, I'm surprised I can sleep (two of my favourite things) and I'm checking my emails every five minutes despite the fact that I get really obvious notification messages if an email comes through.

This is worse than the last time I went through this. Does that mean I want it more or that I hate my current situation?

I need to get my life on track. I need to receive that email, get a yes and realise all my dreams. I would then have to tell two people I actually like quite a lot that I'm going to be leaving them. There may be tears. But only if I get this email saying 'we want you'. If I don't then it's back to pretending that this is perfect and that everyone should be jealous of me.

I wish I could tell you all the scrummy details but even though this blog is secret (and no one fucking reads it anyway), I'd rather not jinx stuff.

Sorry for my vagueness. Catharsisok?

The Darklings

2011-03-11T14:36:00.000Z

I suppose following a band around and being a fan shouldn't be stressful, but it is. You feel like you have a say in everything that goes on in their lives, you an involved in every aspect of their careers. Fans shape bands, they buy the records that get them a Christmas number two and they are the people filling the rows of sold out gigs.

Bands should appreciate their fans.

Despite the 15 year old stress I was under being a fan of The Darkness and how much I hated some of the people I met, those few years shaped my life into what it is now. I'm so much more world savvy. I'd seen and done so much more by my 16th birthday than most people do in a life time. I've partied hard, rubbed shoulders with the stars (Gene Simmons, The Darkness, Graham Coxon, Colin Murray, The Wildhearts to name a few), met wonderful people and have travelled the UK and Europe.

I realised an ambition to write and was a music journalist for many years.

But the real thing that made being a Darkling the most special was the people. One or two in particular.

It started out with a few of us writing filth, real fucking dirty stuff. Then I pointed them all in the direction of slash (I was about 15 at this point). Six of us met up and had an instant rapport. Now, there's two of those five girls I don't speak to - for very different reasons. Two I have contact with on Facebook and miss dearly.

The other is M'Colleague, best friend, co-captain and everything else I need in my life.

The whole thing was worth it just to have a friend like that. She's a flouncy, eloquent, big-boobed piece of wonderfulness.

This is all.

In the event of Darkness

2011-03-11T14:17:00.001Z

So, it looks like The Darkness are reforming. My feelings about this are mixed but before I get into that I'm going to give you a history lesson.

The Darkling

In 2003 (I think) I fell in love with a band, a band that would shape my life in more ways than I could possibly imagine. I went on the Darkness forum, I chatted, went to gigs and became a well known Darkling. I helped to create a fanzine. I met the band on more than one occasion. I drank with them. Wrote filth about them. And made some of the best friends of my fucking life.

I also met some of the most vile, awful people ever. I realised that most of the band are actual wankers and I realised that I am better than this.

Better than being a fangirl and it shaped the way I look at music, bands and those crazy fans. I won't go into detail, not here. But the way some people behave when in close proximity to band is ridiculous. I was too young to realise that waiting around for hours in the cold for a band who might not leave through that exit was ridiculous.

Seeing the band react to people like me and how fucking crazy I was (and I was on the very, very low end of crazy fan) made me rethink music.

I met some of the most amazing people, which I'll go into later, and I also realised my calling of becoming a writer and working in some kind of promotion.

The present(ish)

The bands we were given from The Darkness splitting were Hot Leg and The Stone Gods. Two bands I know I could've loved. The problem was that I was seeing the same crazy faces at each gig. I have grown out of being a crazy fan, I've managed enough bands and met enough famous people that the prospect of meeting more doesn't bother me. So standing around in the cold to meet a band containing people I'd already met was boring to me.

And yet that is what I did. I went to a HotLeg gig with someone who falls into the dedicated/crazy/stalkery fan category. She was driving. We waited around for hours in the freezing cold for this band. No sign of them. We eventually buggered off only to walk past a restaurant and see the vile fan we all hated in there eating with the band. That even annoyed me but I then had to endure two hours of ranting as we drove back.

The future

So The Darkness are going to reform, fucking yes! New Darkness music will fill me with joy. As a music fan I want to go to those gigs but I cannot get involved in all the fan politics and if I go to the gigs I will be recognised.

I don't want to talk to those people, I don't want to be involved in anything they are doing. I want to lose myself in catsuits, music and big hair. I don't want my life to be ruled by which country I'm going to be travelling to next to get my Darkness fix. I know it doesn't have to be and I won't let it, I feel enough out of love with the band when they replaced the bassist that I can't fangirl over them.

I just want the music but I know I'll get dragged into gigs with stalkers or I'll be asked to be involved in something that's way above my role of casual fan of their music.

I want to see them live again. For ten thousand reasons that are too difficult to explain. But I don't want to interact with other fans, I don't want to see certain people from my past and I certainly don't want to get involved with any of the politics.

I'm going to leave this post here. I've got two more rants that I will subject you to at a later time.

Yours, Wilde - not a crazy fan anymore

A Lost dream and a lost dream

2011-03-10T08:12:00.002Z

I was going to write about another Lost dream I had. I was trawling Tumblr while eating my Weetabix and I came across of a photo of Sam and Dean from Supernatural. I know they were in my dream and I know it was horny but I can't remember. Oh god, why can't I remember!

Out of any fandom I have Lost dreams more than any (although less now that we've started rewatching it all.) Last night was a weird one, I'd gone into a shack where Jack, Kate, Sawyer, Hurley and Michael were. They were all terribly suspicious of me. I picked up a Winnie the Pooh badge and attached it to my top, no one saw. Jack came up to me and asked it where I was, he pressed himself right up against me.

I don't actually like Jack, he's a whiny wankbag. But he is hot.

Then some more people turned up on the island. We put them in a shed.

We then left, all walking. Mr. Wilde was there and we were walking down a road. A bus had broken down. There was a massive tail back of cars and everyone was honking. At the end of the tail back there was a fight. I got involved.

Then we went to a house two of our friends shared. It was at the top f a cliff, accessible by a staircase from the beach. We watched some Formula One. A friend of ours who lives in mainland Europe was there. Mr. Wilde was hugging him.

That was a crap dream. Stupid brain.

Just the Inbetweeners all over again?

2011-02-22T12:25:00.000Z

Is this just the Inbetweeners all over again? Don't get me wrong, I thought the Inbetweeners was okay but judging from this Simon Bird plays exactly the same character. Geeky and awkward. However, kudos to having Brian from Spaced in it. And I suppose it'll have some brilliant one liners. ('You bumder'.)

We shall have to wait and see but from this video what do you think? Are you looking forward to this show?

Dreamstime: The crash

2011-02-07T12:57:00.001Z

This is going to be the inspiration for a novel one day.

I'd left work, it had been a stressful day. The sky was clear but it was beginning to get dark, it seemed like the perfect time to go for a run. With work being so busy I'd been neglecting my fitness regime, I was going to take this time to zone out, to just think about the burn in my muscles rather than everything else I had to deal with.

My plan was to run through the suburbs, towards the city and back. I was running down a road, one not often used by cars. My feet crunched through fallen, orange leaves and trees hung over my head. There were a few houses down that road, each of them had a dog tied up outside. Those dogs barked at me as I ran past. I remember thinking how weird that was. Why were all those dogs outside.

I paused to catch my breath as I came out of the trees. I could see the city ahead of me. There was a shuttle being launched, one of those huge ones that was probably carrying all sorts of cargo up to the space station. At first I didn't realise quite how lethargically it was moving. It was climbing at an angle I'd never seen from such a large space shuttle. It climbed and slowed before arching over the city. I realised what was going on. Gravity grabbed it and began to sink downwards, now picking up pace.

I knew I should run, get away from what was no doubt going to be a huge explosion. I doubted that the crew would be able to right the ship now. But I couldn't drag my eyes away as it sunk behind the trees. Moments later a cloud of fire and smoke shot upwards and the ground shook. I could feel an immense heat, the smell of smoke filled the air and the sky turned red.

I began to run, north and away from the city. Back home. I wondered if my father had the sense to leave his lab and make his way home at a sensible time. God, I hoped so. I spared a quick thought for all of those in the blast radius. Even I, a few miles away, could feel that heat. I was still worried that a ripple of fire was making its way towards me. I ran faster than I ever had before and didn't stop until I'd arrived at my house two miles away.

I rang my father but the line was dead.

I have to rewrite...

2011-02-03T13:59:00.000Z

I've realised that no only are scenes 3-10 boring, they're also badly written and some with no purpose at all. So, I thought I'd share with you exactly what I'm doing to get it all sorted with as little fuss and commotion as possible.

Write down a summary of the scene in question.

Who is involved? What happens? Is there conflict? How is it resolved?

Don't deviate from what you've already written in the scene. Don't write what you want to happen, that can come later.

Next write down the purpose of that scene

Does it move the story along? Does it develop a character? If no then it might be worth getting rid of the scene all together. What should the purpose be, why did you write that scene? Does it fulfil its purpose?

Write down your ideas for the rewrite

How could the scene better fulfil its purpose? How can you make it more exciting? What do you need to improve?

I've written reams and reams of notes for my rewrites now. My next step will be to write down who my characters are and what their goals are. I also need to know what's at stake if they don't reach those goals and what stands in the way of them getting to where they need to be.

Actually getting down to editing

2011-01-28T13:07:00.000Z

I know I have to edit my novel and I want to get it done so I can send it to a few people to read once it's all tidied up. But I'm finding it so difficult to make time for it. I guess that's because I'm a little scared to release it to the wild(e). I still feel weird about the whole thing, like there's this big hole in the middle of my heart that needs to be filled by a project of this magnitude.

While I was writing this novel I had a few other projects that I was itching to start and now I can't seem to find inspiration of any of them. Weirdly, I'm going on a beginners writing course with my father in a few weeks, it's aimed at people who want to write a novel but don't know where to start. I suppose, right now, that applies to me.

There are four stories that I could be writing. One I'm going to hold off on because it's not really in the same genre as everything else I've written (I guess it'd be classed as commercial fiction, maybe YA depending on how I end up writing it). Then there's one that's relatively new and has nothing written about it so far. I was so excited about it when writing up the plot, now I'm thinking it's a load of shit and I shouldn't bother.

The next is a story that's probably about 15k in, the storyline and characters are clever but there's no real plot. My amnesic protagonist's goal is to find out who he is and go home (with a sci-fiish twist, of course) but there's no antagonist. I don't know whether the struggle should simply be him getting his memory back and slowly working his way back into society.

But to me, that sounds boring, I'd rather he get his memory back sooner rather than later and the struggle is then dealing with the things he remembered, the things he's done and the place he's come from. The only thing holding me back is the fact that it's going to be epically long. I think I need to do some serious plotting on this one. Or maybe I should just fucking get on with it rather than moaning about it.

Another thing that puts me off it is the fact that is deals with a very close male x male relationship, to the point where it could be called slash. While it would be a great story, is it commercially viable?

The other is completely character driven. Frankie, who is featured in a post here. She is the most complex, original and brilliant character I have ever created. But she has no plot. I want to write it set in modern times. Her back story is closely related to vampires but I don't want to be one of those vampire writers.

On a similarly vampirey note, I recently had an idea about a vampire that was entombed in concrete to stop him doing his crazy shit in the 1930s. He was buried under the site of what was to soon be a concentration camp. Then there are some half-baked ideas about him getting woken by some crazy people to be part of a war but he goes AWOL and on a rampage. The storyline would be all about tracking him down and stopping him.

Then there's the erotica I want to write...

First draft down and 2011 so far isn't better than 2010

2011-01-25T10:04:00.000Z

Well, I finished the first draft of my novel. Now I feel like there is this massive gap in my life. Like the characters have all just run away from me, as if they are no longer mine and are just itching to get out into the real world.

I've been slaving over this story for about a year. I've developed as a writer, I've met other writers and I've accomplished so much.

Of course, now I have 90,000 words to edit. Grammar to tidy up, continuity to fix, minor characters to develop. So much work still needs to be done on it and yet I feel a little bit scared and a lot weird.

I wanted to celebrate last night, I thought that Mr. Wilde and I could have a few drinks and just do a bit of celebrating but I get home and he tells me that his grandad has only a week or so left. There's my full scale descent into misery.

Between us we lost three grandparents last year, two of Mr. Wilde's and one of mine. I must've been delusional to think that his grandad would hold on through this year but I thought we might get a little time before he died.

I hate being a fucking grown up. I wish all my grandparents were alive, I wish I could write a story, a few people would read it and that be that. But no, life's not allowed to be that easy.

Lamely, all this was exacerbated by the fact that my printer decided to run out of ink while printing the last ten pages of the manuscript, which, with the way I was printing, means pages 7-17 are pretty much unreadable. I edited the first six pages then got no further. I drank whiskey and felt angry.

Shit year is going to be shit.

Dreamstime: The man horse and peril!

2011-01-19T14:28:00.001Z

You've all had those days where you've argued with your best friend about which horse you get to ride. Well, I dreamt about that very same scenario.

M'Colleague and I were in Cyprus getting ready for a horse riding session with a bunch of other holiday makers. The trip to the farm began with a jacuzzi, some champagne and biscuits. We then headed off into a field to choose our perfect horse. Being a fan of horse riding, horses and things with hooves in general, I was eager to find the biggest, sexiest horse I could find.

Naturally, as M'Colleague is half a foot taller than me, she insisted on having a big, black mare I'd had my eye on. Reluctantly I relented and I feared that I'd be stuck with some crappy pony who would creak and crack under my weight.

All the horses had been taken. No horsey for me.

I told the owner and he said he'd find me a horse. I faffed around for a bit awaiting the hoofed delivery. Soon the trees at the edge of the field parted and a massive horse was towering over me. This horse was brown ("I prefer brown horses," I said) and he was fucking huge. Clearly over 20 hands tall (that's a horsey measurement, zombie fans).

I was excited, this was a sexy horse.

I climbed aboard and M'Colleague and I trotted around for a while until I decided that I wanted to gallop and frolick. I left M'Colleague to her small, black horse and trampled off into the woods. In the woods, something happened. There was peril of sorts and my horse collapsed. I was stuck with a massive, dead horse.

Before my eyes MDH (massive dead horse) began to transform into a massive - tall - very alive, man. He could've been a Viking. He was wearing leather, had blonde hair, blue eyes and pale skin. He was also very tall and very muscular. After a bit of running around trying to avert some peril (I either don't remember it or I never knew what it was).

There was then some snogging, which I vividly remembered this morning when the dream was all still a blur. It's nice to wake up and think "hang on, who was I snogging?"

The end. No explanation of the peril and I don't know what happened to my Viking.

Blindness - Jose Saramago

2011-01-18T09:59:00.002Z

The thing that tempted me to buy this book was the fact that is was named as one of the most disturbing books in various internet lists. I began reading only to realise that the way in which it is written is entirely odd.

I don't know if it's down to the fact that this, originally Portuguese, book's translator died part way through translating but the book has very little punctuation or paragraph breaks. I actually think it's a stylistic choice, which serves the purpose to thrust you into this world and into the craziness of what the characters are experiencing.

To cut a long story short, a blindness epidemic has begun and those who are turning blind are being chucked into an asylum and quarantined from the rest of the world. We see the story omnisciently following a few of the first people to be taken into quarantine. We never find out their names they are simply described as 'the first blind man', 'the doctor', 'the girl with the dark glasses' and so on.

My apologies for sounding like an English student (I'm not an English student although I once was) but I believe the reason for the lack of punctuation and breaks in the text is to throw you into the world of these people who can simply hear voices being thrown at them along with all the sounds of the world around them. Maybe.

Once you get past looking at a wall of text and instead begin to read you find you soon begin to get into the story and never really miss conventional punctuation, except for maybe once or twice when it's a struggle to realise who is talking. Although this adds to how you feel the confusion of these blind characters.

It is a bit disturbing, there's struggle, rape, death, faeces and all manner of grossness. It shows the complete break down of humanity and that people will do anything to survive. It's well worth reading if you can put up with the writing style.

It's now been made into a film, I'd very much like to see it. A friend told me it was a weird film, I wouldn't expect anything less.

Buy on Amazon

Jessie J

2011-01-13T21:06:00.000Z

I first heard 'Do it like a dude' in November and it wasn't really on my radar, just the sort of Urban pop that I tend to gloss over. It's edgy, sounds a bit crass and the vocals in it are rather annoying. But that doesn't stop me from feeling like I like Jessie J.

So today I took it upon myself to listen to more than just that one, overplayed song.

There are a few on her MySpace page. She has an amazing voice, very soulful. You can certainly tell that she has a West End background. I was listening to a song called Casualty of Love and finding myself just sitting and becoming absorbed in the music.

It's still that slightly urban pop-ballad sound but it's brilliantly put together in a way that gives me goosebumps. There's feeling and emotion in that voice, which isn't a big surprise when you read what she's been through in her life.

I can't work out if she's hot and I can't work out if she's a chav. While I think I like what I hear and see I'd like to see what else Jessie J gives us in 2011. I've no doubts that she'll be massive but I'd like to hear more of that pretty voice and a little less of someone trying to be edgy.

Maroon 5's Adam Levine strips off for Cosmo

2011-01-12T12:47:00.000Z

Maroon 5 are one of those bands who aren't really on my radar. I vaguely recall liking their songs once and thinking their singer was hot. Look at this, Adam Levine, naked.

I had a whole post worked out in my head but as I write this I'm staring at the lower half of this image. I've no idea what I was going to say.

It's all to raise awareness for cancer. Well done. I now like Maroon 5. This man is hot.

Why Currys are such wankers

2011-01-12T11:06:00.000Z

You know they are wankers, everyone with any semblance of tech-sense does. So, I really have no idea why I bought my DSLR and my laptop from them.

We also bought our television from them. That broke within about a week of having it, the Techguys took it away and even after 28 days and not hearing anything back from them despite numerous phonecalls we went into the store and demanded a new TV. Well, we got one and the manager was very helpful.

Four months later we get a card through the door saying Currys had fixed our TV and wanted to deliver it. This is all despite the fact that we'd made it clear that Currys would make sure that our account was cleared so we'd have nothing to do with them.

Laptop goes away to them and two weeks later I get a phone call to say that it is fixed. The paperwork I got back with it didn't really give much info other than the fact that they'd run diagnostics on everything except the hard drive. Considering the thing was throwing up a blue screen and not bothing to boot Windows I thought it might've been worth checking that but I am not a computer tech. Feel free to give me any technical explanations.

Laptop works, great. I can get back to writing. It looks like all they did was reinstall Windows along with a fuck load of shitty games, I uninstalled those first off. My username was now Techguys and my computer name techguys-PC. I'm sorry but isn't that a little unprofessional? I'm glad you've established that it works but can you not just reel it back a bit so I can have my own username and go through all the prelim setup?

New account created, Techguys deleted and computer name changed to Yavin (despite not being a big Star Wars fan all my computers seem to have related names.) Yet when I install a piece of software and it asks for registration details it always puts my computer name down as techguys-PC.

Is it wrong to be appalled by that? It's my fucking PC!

MS Office is on there but it doesn't work, click on it and nothing happens. I need to look into this more and it was only a trial (which I wangled into the full version but that's irrelevant) but seriously, why?

Then the screen starts flickering, going to black. Mr. Wilde updates graphics card drivers and installs 55 Windows updates, all is fine. He then installed the touch pad drivers so I can use the pad to scroll. He installs the program that relates to the touch screen bit at the top of the keyboard so I can control my volume once again. (He also bound Thunderbird to the 'P' key that's up there, it used to open up some sort of backup thing, now it's actually useful.)

Webcam drivers and software were installed and I was ready to go. I'm sorry but did you do half a fucking job on this, you little ballsacks? I'd rather it had taken the whole 28 days to fix the laptop so it could come back working perfectly, as if it were new.

So they took the time to reinstall all the shitty Packard Bell software and Norton and leave me driverless? What's the fucking point?

I could've just reinstalled Windows without giving a thought to drivers and all that shit.

Musical Wilde

2011-01-10T12:41:00.001Z

I used to be very heavily involved in the music industry, I was a music journalist and label manager. Recently, a career and writing and stuff has got in the way of me even listening to new music. So, in an attempt to fill this blog and expand my musical mind (again) I'm going to start reviewing bands.

You might have guessed from the rather questionable content on this blog that these reviews might not be all that normal. Well, I've decided to only review great or shit bands, simply because what's the point in writing about something if it just makes you think 'meh'?

I'm going to put my tastes aside (although I'm hoping to discover a lot more classicrockesque bands) so I can deliver all sorts of phenomenal music to you for aural stimulation.

So, bands/artists/dude with a keyboard please get in touch with me via my new, shiny MySpace page.

"What's that, like a porn site?"

Or comment here with something witty and a link to your music.

New Year Disappointments

2011-01-01T12:26:00.001Z

I'm currently in Scotland, a place if the biggest NYE celebrations and yet I had the crappest most anti climactic evening ever. The worst part was the bar we were in, it was quiet there were only a handful of people in there. At half eleven the DJ began counting down to the new year, every minute then every half a minute. Then instead if turning off the music and putting something on the screen like the celebrations is Edinburgh, he simply did a count down and that was that.

The issue is that the alternative was an open air concert with bands, fireworks and all sorts of awesome. But noooo we couldn't go there because it would be too cold and there would be no where to sit. Well sitting was Fucking boring.

I'm so gutted and so pissed off. I'm not going to rant about individual people, can't be arses but ky night was ruined. Mr. Wilde and I were on the verge of tears. We did walk home with one of the group, which was fabulous. And then drank until 4am but I'm still gutted. We aren't going to be able to do anything interesting this week. I want to go for a hike but one person won't want to and what she wants she gets.

Fuck.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

It's Christmas!

2010-12-23T13:30:00.000Z

Merry Christmas!

It continues

2010-12-20T13:51:00.000Z

That's my road. I have to drive down 2/3 roads like this before I get to one that has been gritted and is okay to drive on. Honestly, I'm getting used to this. Driving in this isn't as terrifying as it was but I'd still rather not do it.

I'm bored of the snow.

In other news I thought my last day at work would be Friday 23rd. I had a conversation with my female boss about it in November. Awesome. So, considering I had Xmas Eve off I thought I could spend that time preparing for a Christmas party that Mr. Wilde and I had planned.

I was going to shave my legs, do my hair, put on some fake tan, tidy the house, cook some chilli, cook some apple crumble, decorate in a festive-fashion and prepare for people coming over at 6:30pm.

Today male boss informs me that we will be working on Xmas Eve. Well that's shit. I have to leave Mr. Wilde in charge of getting stuff ready and greeting guests and he doesn't get home until just after 5:30pm anyway.

On a normal day - i.e. one that's not snowy - I would get home at 6:20pm. Well it is snowy and is likely to be until forever. So I probably won't get home until nearer 7pm. I'm going to be late for my own party, unless I can wangle leaving early.

This sucks.

But it is almost Christmas and I have some inspiration to write the ending to my novel, that's something. Presents all wrapped - the ones that have arrived at least - mince pies purchased, and stock for Scotland sorted.

Oh and how in fuck are we going to get to Scotland? We are supposed to be there for a week, leaving on the 28th to meet Warcraft buddies and geek into the new year. Mr. Wilde is driving and we are picking some people up from Edinburgh airport before driving to Inverness. Fuck, that's going to be a mission.

Laptop update: Took it to Currys without much fuss but it's going to take 28 days for them to get it back to me.

Dreaming about things I shouldn't

2010-12-15T10:42:00.000Z

I was going to attempt to turn this into a fic but I don't have the drive or energy to do something so creative. I think I might focus on one of my other stories and see how I get on there.

Anyway, last night I had a dream and it wasn't until I'd been up for an hour did it could rushing at me with full force threatening to to rush me off my feet. Now, let me warn you, possible Supernatural S6 spoiler ahead depending how far you've seen.

I dreamt that I was watching SPN and I got up to get a drink, my mum shouted that Dean and Sam were having sex - she would do this, she knows my slash obsession - I raced back in having missed the scene.

I got them to rewind it and, as dreams go, I was there in the scene. I was just watching and it was like a well put together fanvid just snippets of kissing, hands on bare skin, sweaty boys etc. Fuck it was hot. I was so surprised that they'd put this in the show.

But, as it turns out, it wasn't Dean Sam was having sex with. The wall holding back the fucked up parts of his soul had manifested itself as a person. A person than changed into whatever Sam wanted it to be. The dream then got quite scary as Sam was trying to fight off this wall, who was tricking him, following him and generally being a pain in the arse. The wall also looked like Steve Buschemi.

Honestly, brain, where does this come from.

Analyse that, bitches.

It seems to be going wrong...

2010-12-14T14:37:00.000Z

First my 18-55mm kit lens decided that it doesn't fancy auto focusing any more and that my life would be better if I have to manual focus whenever I want to take a picture. Well it's wrong. Really fucking wrong.

Then my beautiful laptop decides to blue screen, which, I am told, means serious issues on a Windows 7 machine. Every time I turn that fucker on it blue screens saying some drivers are fucked up. Replacing drivers doesn't help. Safe mode with networking - blue screen. Safe mode is relatively stable but I can't transfer anything via network cable that way.

Because I am a complete and utter fucking cockdonkey not everything is backed up to our server. That means a frustrating time will be spent transferring the pictures and writings from poor laptop to an old hard drive connected by USB. That'd be okay if I had 250mb to transfer but I don't it's about 80gb.

Now, I hear you asking me why I don't just take the HDD out and transfer the stuff off it that way. Well, I don't want to void the warranty do I. Laptop is about 10 months old. If getting everything off and wiping it all back doesn't work then I have to take it back to the evil that is Currys and then wait 12 years for them to repair it.

This means that I have two months to get everything off in between blue screens, random restarts, working out and playing Warcraft. And even then I'll have to deal with Currys being wankers - did I ever tell you the story of our two televisions? Another day maybe.

So, I've been relegated to my 5 year old customer built computer who is missing a stick of ram. Even Warcraft struggles. I peer round at Mr. Wilde's computer screen and it's all glistening and beautiful while my game is a mist of grey, low frame rate and random freezing.

It seems that after Christmas - which you'll be surprised to hear that I love - I'll be building a new PC, probably paying to fix a laptop and buying a new kit lens.

Oh and Mr. Wilde is in a mood.

My life is over.

Win loads of money for shiny things from Paypal

2010-12-10T19:25:00.000Z

Did you know that just by doing some shopping and checking out with PayPal you can Win £40 000? Well, don't get your hopes up, because I am going to win. My house will be overflowing with technology.
Find out more

Yesterday my laptop broke and while Mr. Wilde has every intention of fixing it I want a new one anyway...
Not to mention the fact that I've started playing Warcraft again on the five year old, custom built desktop PC I have. That beast is so slow, the ram died a year or two ago so I'm left with 1gb. The motherboard is ancient and the processor is slow.
Give me £40,000 and watch what I can do - All of this beautiful gear is from Dabs.com

This, slightly terrifying beast is the Acer Predator. I want it because it looks cool. It comes with a gaming keyboard too. It has 1TB HDD, a processor with multiple cores, 4GB ram and it looks like it wants to eat you. I need that in my life. And it's only 1/40th of the Paypal prize. Imagine how all those lovely games would look with this pushing them through my 22 inch monitor.

And because, clearly, I need a new laptop. I'd go for this big, red beast. My current laptop is red and white, I don't really want anything but it but this would come close to filling that gap. It's big, 17 inches, same size as dead laptop. The size was something that annoyed me no end when looking for a pretty laptop bag - I never found one - but now I couldn't go back to a tiny 15 inch screen.

When I had a iPhone it was difficult to justify buying something that was essentially just a bigger version with less features (it's not a phone and it doesn't have a camera). But now that I'm on the Android wagon and have money to blow (I'm talking hypotehtically here) I'm going to get myself an iPad. If only so I can be one of those people who has an iPad. They're shiny and I often lust over them in the Apple store.
These pretty things are from Ebuyer.com

I have an Xbox 360 but no PS3. And I want a PS3, if only to play Blurays. We have an HD telly that isn't seeing it's full potential. I need Star Trek in HD and this is the first step!

My camera has also gone up the swanny. The kit lens of my 450D doesn't auto focus. This is the camera I want, the 21mp 5D. It's beautiful and certainly a piece of gear that I'd be happy to have in my collection!
So if you are like me and want lots of shiny gadgets (including four different types of computer) then get buying stuff with PayPal because the more you buy, the more likely you are to win!

Enter now for your chance to win

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Stupid dream was stupid... but hot.

2010-12-02T22:03:00.000Z

A dream I had, from Frankie's POV. Based in the Merlin fandom.

"This is where the old man died."

I looked around at Merlin who was prodding at the ruins. He was trying to make a point but it was lost on me. I thought it was a waste of time being here, I very much doubted that there were any magical artefacts in this place. It just seemed so unlikely. There were dogs crowding around my feet, snapping and barking, I wondered if I was that obvious to them. Well I had to be. I shooed them away and smiled at Merlin who was now looking at me.

"Oh is it..." I didn't know what he was getting at and I wasn't sure that I would care even if I did understand, Merlin looked away just tapping some more at the markings on the ruins. I kicked one of the dogs out of the way and crouched in front of the ruins. "These say there's treasure in here," I said idly, pointing at the spot where Merlin had been tapping thoughtfully.

"Really, how can you tell?"

I lowered my voice, I knew full well that everyone in Camelot was so adverse to magic, "because it's the language of the old religion." I grinned at him and he looked shocked.

"You know the old religion?"

I laughed and shook my head, Merlin had no idea what I knew but it extended way beyond a bit of knowledge of the magic contained in that way of thinking. "No, just the runes. I've travelled enough to be able to learn a few languages on the way."

"Okay, well I wouldn't tell Arthur."

"Tell Arthur what, Merlin?" At the sound of Arthur's voice Merlin shot into a standing position, narrowly missing hitting his head on an overhang.

I had to speak before Merlin got himself into trouble by spluttering and trying to find some answer, "that I think we should have a party." I smiled, we'd found the ruins we were looking for and there was probably treasure here. That was enough to celebrate.

"And why shouldn't the lady be telling me about a party?" he was looking at Merlin, his hands on his hips. I was trying not to laugh.

"Because you'd get drunk," said Merlin simply. I'm glad he went with my idea. It was quite a good idea to have a party.

Arthur looked quite taken a back at that and then I knew that I needed to see him drunk. We were in a place where no one knew the prince Arthur, we were outside of a small town on the outskirts of Camelot and while we'd planned to stay in the woods there would be nothing wrong with finding the local tavern. I slid my arm through Arthur's and dragged him away from Merlin.

The action seemed so normal and innocent but only when I'd walked a little way with him I realised how awkward I felt at being arm in arm with this prince. I untangled myself from him and looked back at the ruins. "Come on, we've found what we were looking for, let's go for a drink."

Arthur frowned and looked over his shoulder, "come on Merlin, we're going for a drink."

I smiled. The three of us rode into town, it was hot and bright and for once I was actually enjoying the sunlight. We stopped at the tavern, which was already full of smelly drunk men. Arthur's look of disdain made me laugh, he wasn't used to places like this. But then nor was I but there was nothing quite as satisfying as the collective heartbeat of a place like that.

The music started once both Merlin and Arthur were quite drunk. Merlin, most certainly couldn't hold his alcohol and soon excused himself, he headed out of the back door and Arthur grumbled about how he should probably follow him. As he stood he knocked a tankard out of a large, burly man's hand. I knew what was coming and it was exciting. Arthur could take every man in here. The fight began and I watched for five minutes until things stopped going Arthur's way. I decided to go and check on Merlin.

Through the brawl I exited out of the back door to find merlin sitting with his back against a wall, his head in his hands. "Are you all right?" I asked sitting down next to him. I preferred wearing this sort of dress, woollen, ragged and already dirty. Better than those shiny gowns I had to wear to pass as a 'lady' when I was at the palace.

Merlin nodded without looking at me. "Wheresarthur," the words rolled into one.

"Fighting."

Merlin snapped his head up and I supposed that it might be a big deal to him. Arthur was allowed to fight, he wasn't going to come out of it too badly. Plus it would be good for him to fight in a proper brawl. Maybe if he lost he wouldn't be so damn arrogant.

A while later a group of men burst from the back door. I thought the fight was bursting out into this alleyway until I realised they were singing and swinging mead around. Arthur was amongst them, singing just as loudly as the next man. I watched and Merlin watched. Arthur soon noticed us and plonked himself on the far side of Merlin. "You're really missing a good party." He looked over at me and then to the group who were now dancing to their tunes. Once of them had produced a string instrument from somewhere about his person.

"Let's dance," he stood with the sort of speed that a drunk man shouldn't have and grabbed both my hand and Merlin's hand dragging us to our feet. Merlin soon wriggled free and went back to sitting down but I was dragged into the middle of those men. I was close to Arthur, pressed so close to him and we danced. I should've pulled away from the drunken prince. This wasn't a situation that I'd wanted to get myself into. But every time I was near him I wanted to be nearer. My stomach churned at the contact and it was only when he wrapped his arms around me that I sank into him. I tried to enjoy myself, tried to move as if I were having fun. Not that anyone around here would have noticed. I just couldn't help but feel that this was wholly inappropriate.

It was amusing, in a way, to think that Arthur would have me killed - or at least try - if he knew what I was.

Finishing NaNo

2010-12-02T12:54:00.000Z

The last 7000 words did not come easily at all and it was a two day push to finish. Five thousand words in one night and I was weeping by the end of it. I wrote three awful scenes. Now, bear in mind that this is a post-apocalyptic thriller, there was music, weeping, sneaking around, stealing, inappropriate hugging and a revelation or 20,000.

I suppose it doesn't matter, the point is that I won NaNo and I feel great for it. But I don't see this story going anywhere, I was so set on it being my big break into the writing world but now that I'm nearing the end I hate it.

It's going to be a while before I finish it, I just need to move on, write different stuff, pay attention to characters I know a lot better. I don't think NaNo was a mistake because I've proved to myself that I can write great amounts and it helped to further a rather flimsy storyline. Before I let the whole thing commit suicide I will finish it but I can't see it having a happy ending for my character and that depresses me.

I'm way too emotionally invested in this story at the moment to write what needs to be written. Just having my MC weep uncontrollably was hard enough. The things that are going to happen to her next are going to be super hard to write.

Anyway, enough of my babblings.

I won NaNoWriMo!

I hate snow

2010-11-25T10:27:00.000Z

Taken by my own fair hand whilst driving...

Don't get me wrong, when I was a kid and flouncing around on a snow day was great. We'd go sledging, make snowmen, it was great. Now I have to drive 25 miles each way to work and in the snow on fucking B-roads that's horrendous.

Last night the first of the snow arrived and I got sent home early (yay) but it was still dark. I was the car behind the first car on the road, which meant that not much of the snow was getting moved out of the way. We trundled along at between 20 and 30 mph. I was at least ten seconds behind the guy in front of me and there was fresh snow laying in that gap. Soon we came up behind some other cars so at least the snow was clearing a bit.

But then there was the issue of visibility, my lights were reflecting off the falling snow so I couldn't see anything in front of me. It took an hour and ten minutes to do my 45 minute drive. The city wasn't too bad, nothing compared to the town I work in. So the drive got easier.

I get home, shakey, exhausted and a little rattled from the whole experience.

Not one ounce of sympathy from Mr. Wilde. Cock.

He begins to tell me that it wasn't that bad. I tell him it was - and cry a little bit - he said it was just sleet.

OH YOU WERE ON THE ROAD I WAS ON, 20 MILES AWAY, WERE YOU?

He apologised for not believing me then told me I was driving wrong. That I was going to fast and braking too hard if it was scary and slippery.

Fuck off. I'm a girl, I was scared but I know how to drive in the snow. That doesn't mean I should enjoy it.

On the way in today it began snowing in Norwich, I was like FUCK FUCK FUCK. Almost didn't go to work. 65% of the roads were fine and then I was about 10ish miles from work and the road was just full of snow and ice. I handled it well because I was going so slow but boss said that he'd found that road really difficult to drive on and he's the one always telling me and my other boss not to worry.

Tomorrow we have to drive two hours to go to a meeting. That's me and the boss that hates driving in the snow. Fucking snow. I'm going to die.

Just wait...

2010-11-24T08:13:00.000Z

(Via: Blameitonthevoices.com)

Doodle

2010-11-23T20:53:00.002Z

What I think of 3D movies

2010-11-23T15:34:00.001Z

Hi Wildefans (I like that collective term).

I want to talk to you about 3D movies.

It seems that they are pushing this craze way too much, everything and anything is now available in 3D. How fucking exciting, it'll be like being right there in the midsts of the action.

Avatar

I watched this twice at the cinema, both times in 3D. It was an okay film and it looked amazing. I'm short sighted which means I need glasses for driving, watching television and going to the cinema. 3D glasses fit fine over my geek specs. But the headache that comes with the combo is about 12,000 times less desirable than a kick in the cunt (approximately).

I soon forgot about the headache, pressure on my nose and general shittiness because it was fun and it was a novelty. Everything looked pretty, especially the flora and fauna on Pandora. But I would've probably enjoyed the film as much if I hadn't been watching it in 3D.

Saw

Mr. Wilde and I have seen every Saw film at the cinema. We weren't going to miss out on this one - the last one (?) - and break our perfect streak. I thought that 3D would be quite cool, blood flinging at us, the whole audience jumping, 3D gore and so on.

The film, as far as Saw films go, was okay. I certainly enjoyed it storyline-wise. But the 3D aspect completely ruined it for me. Firstly, there was the headache again. Either I could watch the film in 3D or it could be sharp, I couldn't have both.

Then there was the motion blur, if someone or something moved quickly then there was an obvious trail behind them. In places it also looked very stuttery.

Because of the headache I eventually had to take off my geek specs and just had the 3D glasses on. This lessened the motion blur (because everything was now a bit blurry). Headache got better but didn't leave. Eventually I took off the 3D glasses altogether and watched the film. Here I began to enjoy it a bit more, even though there was the occasional time where the background looked funny and the foreground was sharp.

3D adds absolutely nothing to that film.

I think 3D should be for animated films only, it just looks shit on film films. I bet Toy Story was great in 3D, Avatar wasn't bad but Saw was shit and ruined the whole horror experience for me as well as the rest of the evening - what can a girl do with a headache? I'm a wimp.

And now they are talking about bringing old films back in 3D and releasing every fucking piece of shit for 3D. I don't care. Improve your technology then push this stupid fucking novelty our way. 3D movies could be superfuckingcool but at the moment the technology is lacking. It's just a way of making more money.

What do you think of 3D movies? Love or hate?

Dreamstime: Zombies

2010-11-22T11:17:00.001Z

I often have quite vivid and disturbing dreams. Last night's was no exception, I was dreaming from the point of view of one of my characters, Remmy. This often happens and never feels weird, surely that's good character creation. So, the dream is below, written from Remmy's POV.

It was dark and it was quiet, I sat staring at the bookcase in an otherwise empty room. I had to have a plan, there had to be a way of getting out of this place. The people I was with were useless, just as terrified as I was. Soon I decided that we needed to break out, the doors and windows were all boarded up, we needed to get to the roof.

I proceeded to clear the bookcase, I could break through the ceiling and up onto the roof. Everything was discarded and it was only a photograph of my grandfather, a few years before he'd died. I contemplated taking it with me but eventually threw it on the floor with everything else. What was the point of having a photo of one family member, I needed to see them all and I couldn't.

We got onto the roof, I didn't look at the zombies surrounding us, I blocked them out and just ran. I don't remember the journey but soon we were in a club. It was empty and so weird to see a place like this so quiet. The people I was with got excited, possibly more about the fact they had reign over a club rather than the fact that we were out of danger.

But we weren't. "We need to barricade the doors and windows!" I shouted. I didn't know if zombies could open doors but I didn't want to find out.

Suddenly there was a blast of music and I turned around, horrified. One of my comrades was in the DJ booth blasting whatever shit dance music happened to have been played last. I screamed at him to shut it off but he didn't, either he couldn't hear me or he didn't care. Then one of the walls started to rattle and I realised it was a huge floor-to-ceiling door. It was moving someone - or something - was trying to get in.

The music stayed playing and I could hardly hear myself think as I tried to gather the rest of the group to hold the door shut. But we were pushed back, for a moment I could see out into the blackness. A horde of zombies stood at our door. The one nearest to me, a woman, dressed in pink, had her head hanging off her shoulders. I let out some terrified noise before I was pushed back by a man in green scrubs and the door was pushed shut.

I looked around. There were now more people in this club and the music had stopped. We'd avoided letting any zombies in and instead had allowed in a new group of people. Two of them seemed to be surgeons, dressed all in green, covered in blood and carrying guns. I knew the man at the head of the group, the surgeon who had turned off the music. He was a tall black man, he carried a shot gun and walked with a swagger that pissed me off.

I sunk into the shadows of the club. He'd accused me of being a drug addict a long time ago and he'd been wrong.

It's something about my dreams

2010-11-18T10:14:00.000Z

Quite regularly I have dreams that would make the most wonderful stories. In fact my current NaNo work was born from a dream. And I had a dream when I was a kid about a cat superhero called Thunderpuss, her back story would make or a great animated show or kid's book (although maybe I'd been watching too much Thundercats.)

Last night I dreamt about husbands swapping bodies, doting wives, demon dogs and baby snatching. All the people in the dream had great American names like Hank, Jimmy and Bobby (he was actual Bobby off of Supernatural.) There was a great twist at the end and I was surprised at the outcome. I woke up thinking, 'I should write this'.

If I'm not destined to be a writer then what? An emotional wreck floating through an office job pretending to enjoy talking to people?

In other news

The post 'Bad Wilde' was simply paranoia. I had nothing to worry about. Friend does not hate me, Facebook thing means nothing and I feel much better now.

And it's all over...

2010-11-17T16:25:00.001Z

Vettel wins the championship and I'm not upset. I thought I would be, he has been a bit of a tosser during this season - he's young I'll let him off - but seeing how happy he was to have won made me smile. He is a bit arrogant but he's a good driver and he wanted this so much.

Of course, I would much, much, much rather that Mark Webber was champion (the things I would do to that man) but I'm happy with the result.

Every season the boys in my life have had a bet on. At first it was Mr. Wilde and a friend then another friend joined in. They chose a team each and the team who had the a driver highest in the championship would win.

I suggested that next year I get in on it too. So we aren't squabbling for teams I suggested we choose drivers. Naturally, Webber is mine. Mr. Wilde has Hamilton and the two friends picked Alonso and Vettel.

To be honest I don't see my chances being all that high, but you never know. I was going to shout and scream on Webber's behalf anyway. I may as well do it with some money on the line (£20 in case you're interested).

Next season will be a noisy one. But for now, what in fuck am I to do with my Sundays? Play Formula One 2010 and write no doubt.

How did you find this season?

Does it piss you off that all Hamilton does is grumble?

Bad Wilde

2010-11-17T11:57:00.000Z

I didn't go to a friend's hen night on Saturday. Now she's no longer my friend on Facebook (that could mean nothing), she won't respond to text messages, email or FB messages. Our mutual friend is ignoring my texts and generally I feel miserable.

On the night I didn't want to go because a) I felt completely, utterly miserable and would've just spent the time wallowing in my own misery ruining it for everyone else. And b) because I was going to be the fat girl in the skimpy costume around all these hot ladies.

I'm a bad, vain, horrible person and I feel terrible.

Why in fuck do I feel miserable?

2010-10-29T16:21:00.000Z

Here's the scenario. Tonight I'm having a birthday meal, drinks and Wii-based celebrations. I then have a whole week off and I'm expecting some ace presents from some awesome people.

But I feel shitty and miserable. Why oh fucking why? How does that even make sense. I guess it partial trepadation. Tomorrow we are scattering the ashes of Mr. Wilde's grandma. Mr. Wilde is also going to see his grandfather at the chapel of rest. Then on my actual birthday it's his grandfather's funeral - which it seems no one is going to.

I think this will lead to grumpy Mr. Wilde during a week where I'm going to want to play with him, hug him and party a little bit. Already this morning he was a bit grumpy, although he did say that he was just tired. I'm so worried that tonight he'll be a grumpy bum.

I'm just expecting this whole birthday experience to be shit and that makes me feel beyond terrible. But why should it, people are going out of their way to provide me with awesomeness.

I know what it is. Last year I was 21. I had the best (slightly lesbian-filled) birthday party ever. I had a Star Trek pumpkin cared in my honour, a slashy Star Trek cake, loads of friends, booze and food! My Dad also came to the party that we held at the house of my Mum and step-Dad. My grandad was also there. I miss him.

Mr. Wilde presented me with a tiny map with some writing on that was the beginning of our America trip. Those following months we planned and planned up until June when we jetted off to the most amazing two weeks I have ever experienced.

What in fuck would ever top that? Nothing I tell you!

I don't want to top it and I don't expect to but funerals, ash scatterings and general depression is a whole world away from that excitement.

Hopefully once I get to Mummy Wilde's tonight I'll feel better. I can get some vodka in me. Snuggle with my man, eat lots of food (including spicy root and lentil bake, which sounds amazing.) Grandma Wilde will also be there. And hopefully my bro will make an appearance.

Bring on November so I can get down and dirty with NaNoWriMo!

Feel free to comment and tell me to stop being a cunt.
x

The things I want vs the things I can afford

2010-10-21T14:34:00.000Z

There's money in my bank account right now. I got paid 6 days ago and despite almost, and needlessly, buying an iPad I have yet to spend any of it. The reason being is that all I can afford other than my usual bill and whatnot his month is to buy my mum's £200 birthday present.

But, but, I always buy stuff. There's some shoes I want and a store has a sale. Oh and we could use a lamp and a sofa bed. And I'd really like a tiny ginger cat to keep big fluffy cat company. Maybe I should change my car I want something with more VROOM. There's some vintage records I like too. I could really do with a PS3 as well because I want to play blu-ray disks. I also want that new shade of expensive lipstick that hurts my lips and wears off after five minutes of guzzling pints.

Damn you money. I wish some bills would come out so I realise that I don't have money and aren't tempted by everything ever.

National Novel Writing Month

2010-10-19T16:18:00.001Z

Mr Wilde, because he is so fabulously amazing and sexy, reminded me about NaNoWriMo. I've been signed up to the site since early this year when I first began getting really into my novel. It starts on Novemeber the 1st and I'm going to do it, I'm going to write 50k words in that month.

However, it says that you should start something from scratch and not use anything previously written because you are too invested in the characters to just write. I most certainly don't feel like that about my novel. It's got a great storyline and is currently 25k words but I'm just not feeling it. I think being /forced/ to write 50k will kickstart the muse once again. I also think that another 50k and I'll be nearing the end of the story.

I definitely think it would benefit me more to continue this story rather than start something from scratch. All of my four novel ideas - bar one, sort of - are over 8k now. I've been on a writing frenzy recently. If it inspires me then I will be able to write reams and reams. It's lovely. Touch wood I won't be getting writers block again any time soon.

So there we have it. When I emerge into December I'll be 50,000 words lighter, a great deal more anti-social and it's likely I'll have some sort of agrophobia from being cooped up in my house just writing.

Ideally I'd need to write 2,000 words a day. I can easily manage 1,000 as that's what I write at the moment. It'll be an interesting push to write 2k, I'll have to write at home rather than work! Or both.

Bring it on!

Crazy fans - Supernatural

2010-10-14T16:27:00.001Z

Now, when I rant I tend to go off course and babble. I believe this will be one of those such occassions but let me start with a history lesson first.

I used to be a big fan of a band. I spent loads of time on their official forum, co-created their fanzine and saw them across Europe. It was a fantastic time but I was 14. Some of the people I hung around with could easily be described as crazy fans. There were also other crazy fans we hated because they were crazier.

It was a mix of jealousy, cuntery and fan politics.

Suffice to say we got nothing from being hardcore fans, no recognition from the band save for a well-blagged trip to a bar with them in Paris.

Why is this relevant?

I've just read - a very good - Supernatural fic. Some of the comments have made me quite annoyed. One anonymous commenter started ranting about how Sam-hate is unjustifiable and why is everyone so biased towards Dean.

I suppose this annoys me because I'm thinking, what? Who cares? Don't read the fic if you aren't interested in that sort of story. It's sad that people get so worked up.

I suppose I'm probably just as sad because here I am ranting about it but that's beyond the point. Why do people get some damn fanatical? Why do they get so into something that they get pissed off at something someone has written out of their love for a show?

Writing fanfiction is a labour of love. And with something like Supernatural you aren't going to write something about the two main characters if you don't like them both.

My two cents

I, frankly, love this fucked up Sam. I like that he's a cunt and I like that the relationship between he and Dean isn't like it was. It makes me wonder what happened to Sam? How was his short hell experience different to Dean's long one. I think that is brilliant writing.

Whether or not you are a 'Sam girl' or a 'Dean girl' makes no difference. Sam is being a bit of a douche. But that's brilliant. He's paying hookers - probably because he can't be arsed with the emotional side of sex - and he's too cold and collected for someone who's been to hell.

It would be boring if both Sam and Dean had reacted the same way to different experiences in hell. Sam turned into a beautiful, cold, dark, twat and Dean suffered, it tore him up from the inside out. That's brilliant and I can't wait to see how this affects Sam further down the line. Will they compare experiences, argue about who went through something worse?

While I wouldn't consider myself a 'Sam girl' or a 'Dean girl' (I'm one of those 'slash fans') I have found that Sam's choices (the writing) have moved me more, even if it is to feeling angry at him. My stomach churned when he chose Ruby over Dean and I don't like the fact that the Sam/Dean (slash aside) relationship hasn't been the same since then.

Dean has calmed down, gone from a womanising, quite violent man into someone softer. His character progression has made him more loveable because he learnt from Sam's gentleness.

Sam's gone the other way.

That's brilliant character progression and nothing to troll about.

I'm am happy to argue about this so comment away.
-prepares to be called a hypocrite-

I found it - A short story based on a dream

2010-10-08T10:46:00.001Z

Title: I found it
Rating: G
Words: 842
A/N: This is based on a dream I had last night. God it was vivid.
Summary: I walked up to the house, my heart was beating so fast, I had no idea what to expect from such a broken down old place. It made me feel nervous and uneasy yet I knew I had to go in and I knew that there was something exciting hidden away.

---
I walked up to the house, my heart was beating so fast, I had no idea what to expect from such a broken down old place. It made me feel nervous and uneasy yet I knew I had to go in and I knew that there was something exciting hidden away. I walked through the old building, dust was sprinkled on me from above and I looked up at the flaking paint work and crumbling bricks. It wouldn't have surprised me if the whole thing had come down on top of my head.

The maroon carpet beneath my feet had be well-worn and I wondered what sort of people had walked upon it when this building stood at its finest. Now it was just a crumbling heap that was barely even acknowledged. But I was pulled in, there was something about this place that drew me here. There was some hidden treasure that no one knew about.

I was going to find it.

I explored the house, part of the left wing had crumbled and was inaccessible but otherwise the house was light and airy, the carpets may have been worn and the pillars may have been crumbling but this place was fantastic.

I pushed open the heavy back door expecting to see an overgrown jungle of a garden. But I was met with something completely different. It was a perspex stair case that lead upwards. I could see the garden below me, tall grasses pushed up below my feet and there was a tall tree to my left. I didn't hesitate and just began to climb the stair case. It didn't lead me too high instead it took me into a large pod off of which another perspex stair case led. This was a maze.

Soon I was so high that I could see the whole garden below me. I had to take a deep breath to try and regain my composure but my head was swimming and my stomach churned at the thought of being so high. The building was old and crumbling and while these connected pods didn't really feel like they belonged I couldn't help but feel like they were going to collapse at any minute, leaving me crushed and bloodied on the ground below.

No one would ever find me amongst those grasses. I'd die and I'd never find out the secret of this place.

I continued to climb trying desperately to ignore the sinking feeling I was getting. If I got lost in this place then I'd be as dead as if It collapsed. Up was the only way I could go, I'd find me goal if I continued. I don't know how long I was in those pods but soon I began to notice the music that was playing around me. Was that new? Maybe, if I could find its source then I could find what I was looking for.

One staircase opened out. I'd found it. But I didn't really know what 'it' was. The space in front of me was undercover but it was large full of black, white and chrome. A few more steps lead up in front of me, I walked slowly up. This was an apartment, some brilliantly secret and perfectly designed home. The kitchen was on a raised platform in front of me. Everything was immaculately clean and glimmering in the the glow of the overhead spotlights.

To my left was a circular shower area and to the right of that there was a glass wall in which there was a table and some chairs. A dining room perhaps, although it reminded me more of a conference room.

The music caught my attention once again. It was nearby now, a violin. Low, sombre and enticing. I went back past the kitchen and realised that just opposite the few steps I'd come up there was another staircase leading up to a platform. This is where the music was coming from. However,l it wasn't a recording, someone was playing a violin. I was in this person's house, I was trespassing. But I needed to see who it was. I crept up the stair keeping low, my hands on the step in front of me.

I looked over the top to see a bedroom. The carpet was grey and the side walls were made of glass, against the back wall, which was white was a large bed, draped in beautiful white linen. Directly in front of me and to the left of the bed was a chair and in it a man playing the violin.

I was suddenly aware that he was naked but I knew him. He was so beautiful. He had an age of knowledge in his eyes and when he saw me he put down the violin and sat on the floor next to the stairs. I crept up to him and he embraced me. It was a long, warming hug that erased any sense of woe, fear or uneasiness in me.

This was what I'd been looking for.

Having money

2010-10-07T16:11:00.001Z

I earn just over £25k a year and for someone who is 21 that's pretty fucking good. I can afford to buy a fuck load of clothes.

I can afford to party.

I can afford to holiday.

Mr. Wilde can't.

I'd happily pay for him to do anything but he won't take money from me.

It doesn't annoy me that he earns less but the fact that I earn more bothers him, I think. He doesn't particularly like his job, often moans about how people try to take credit for the things he does and doesn't think it pays enough. Well he's right. He needs a new job but even though I often send a nice job description his way when I'm bored he never applies.

I think he's applied for two or three since he realised that he wanted a new job. That must've been almost a year ago now.

I don't understand, he can't moan about not having any money and hating his job if he isn't applying for others.

I was unemployed for six months last year, borrowed a total of £2k from family members just to get by. And I've always been shit with money. I once said that the only way I'd ever be able to save is if I had a lot more money than I needed.

So of course, when ever my bank account is looking good I'm happy about it. Tell Mr. Wilde that I'm only £100 over drawn despite my car MOT.

I wish he could just be happy for me and stop bloody moaning or get a job. If he's looking and applying then he can moan all he fucking wants. I certainly did for most of last year.

The new Formula One game

2010-10-06T16:25:00.002Z

So I purchased - no pirating here - the new Formula One 2010 game for the Xbox 360. I'm a huge F1 fan. Mr. Wilde and I always sit down to watch the races with a few friends on a Sunday. It's good and while it was him who got me into it a few years ago, my love for it clicked last season and has been reinforced during this one.

Now, I could chatter on about what I think of no refuelling, who I want to win the season (Mark Webber) etc. But I won't I'm going to do an actual review of the game.

Apologies if I go off on a tangent while writing about this, it maybe my day job to write reviews of things but that doesn't mean everything I write stays on topic.

Firstly, this game looks good. We have it HDMI'd up to our 42 inch HD telly. And then I sit fairly close on the beanbag (one of those massive gaming ones) to simulate being in an F1 car.

Having not been into F1 all that long I've never played an F1 game before but Mr. Wilde assures me that this is one of the best he's played.

So Mr. Wilde went off to play Warcraft and I took up my bean-seat. I shuffled everything down to easy - because I'm a girl - and set off to do the practice of Bahrain. It was difficult until I realised that auto brake was on and that all I needed to do was steer. That made it easy, onto qualifying.

Now, because you have to move up the ranks you get to choose from the teams that generally hand around the back of the grid, these are Lotus, Virgin and Hispania Racing. Naturally, I chose Lotus - I'm from Norfolk.

Bearing that in mind I got through Q1 and Q2 doing about a 2:08 (the record for the track in real life is around 1:30). Mr Wilde then came down and did Q3. However, realising that if I could get to Q3 then it must be too easy. Auto brake came off and we ended up qualifying in 10th.

I realise this is more of a story than a review...

I love how the qualifying is like you'd imagine it to be in real life. Timed sessions, sometimes there are cars on the track, sometimes there aren't. And you can retire to your garage and wait for the next session as soon as you think you've got a good enough time.

Then we took on the race. Half distance, which is 25 laps - around 45 minutes. Afterwards my eyes hurt, my fingers ached and I felt a bit brain dead. But, despite finishing in first we came second, thanks to a few time penalties for crashing into the back of Hulkenberg and one for cutting a corner.

The race was complete with pit stops, changing from the option tyre to the prime. And you can set your engine up before the race depending on what the predicted weather conditions are. That'll be very interesting when we get to tracks where the weather is a bit more changeable.

Now, as much as I'd love to do a full distance race I don't have the physical stamina for it. Even half distance was a bit long. However, you need it to be long enough that some tactics come in to play. You need to time your tyre change correctly to get ahead and so on.

I'll update you as we get further in and begin to turn off stuff like no damage or traction control. It's a brilliantly realistic game as far as I can tell.

I love it. Don't expect me to do anything after supper from now on because I'll be advancing my F1 career. I'll be driving for McLaren before you know it!

Mr. Wilde

2010-10-01T07:12:00.001Z

Fit

I can't tell if you are joking... A story

2010-09-30T14:36:00.001Z

I worked for a company that organised events. We were putting together a huge launch party for one of our super-posh clients. It was a few days before the event and just past the RSVP deadline.

I passed all the names on the guest list to my boss, our graphic designer, he popped them into a pretty PDF and saved.

The next day I received an email with some people RSVPing to the event. I told my boss that I had some more people needing to be added to the guest list.

He said: "It's already been put together. Tell them they're too late."

So I did, emailed straight back. I said something along the lines of 'list is all done now, you missed the RSVP date, sorry.'

20 minutes later my boss had the list open on his computer and he said to me: "What were those names that needed adding."

Fuck! He'd been joking.

I gave him the names.

Then hastily emailed the new guests back to say there had been a mistake and that I'd added them to the list.

At the event I met them but couldn't bring myself to introduce themselves. I don't think they told anyone that I almost didn't allow them to attend!

Has anything similar ever happened to you?

The Event a review and rant - Spoilers for up to 1x02.

2010-09-29T11:59:00.000Z

This is a weird show. I didn't really know what to think about it when I read the blurb before it started. It sounded a bit 24, lots of agents running around etc. Now, I liked 24 but probably only because it had Kiefer Sutherland in it...

But this show was NBC, like Heroes, so I thought that the first series might be worth watching - even if the subsequent ones were shit, like Heroes.

God it's weird. Through the first episode you're led into a false sense of security with weird flashbacks that don't really make any sense. But it's all quite normal, hijacked aeroplane, cute people on a cruise, black president, releasing some people from a detention centre. It's almost like real life.

That is until someone tries to fly a plane into the president's house. Oh shit, everyone is running around. Shove president into a car. Then BANG! Plane disappears.

This lady, one of the people being released from the detention centre, looks relieved but says something along the lines of: 'There are some things we haven't told you.'

Cue episode two.

Now we know something weird is going on. Plane ends up in Arizona. Government covers it up. More flashbacks and I'm getting a distinct feeling that I'm watching Lost. To the point where Mr. Wilde says "oh, those people they met on the island."

Then we see the president talking to Danko from Heroes - that's not his name in this show but it might as well be he's practically the same character - they're talking about this detention centre and the people in it.

Danko says: "And we discovered that they were not terrestrial beings."

Oh wait, what? So they're aliens?

Yes they fucking are. DNA 2% different to humans. Kept in this detention centre because they won't give away their real intentions.

More flashbacks, conspiracy, set ups etc. Now, the people from this detention centre don't have a name yet but I'd bet on it being something like 'Them' or 'The Others'. So it turns out that The Others from the detention centre aren't the only ones out there.

In fact our handsome CIA agent who has been leading the detention centre shiz is one of them! They're planning something.

I'm still not sure I'm a fan, I'm not connecting with the story line of two people on a cruise, kidnapping, plane crash etc. I want to know more about the damn aliens. And the flash backs are annoying. At least Lost chose a character and stuck with them for the flashbacks, and the flashforwards in Flashforward were short, simple.

These are long flashbacks that skip anything from a few days to a few years back all over the place with about five different characters and scenarios. But it's exciting and because I've got so many questions I need to know what happens.

I introduce Frankie

2010-09-28T15:56:00.001Z

Her back story is huge, complicated and beautiful.

---

Frankie ran a hand across her face staring at the half dead woman in front of her. She didn't know her, she didn't care about her. All she could think about was the smell of the blood that was pouring from her body. This couldn't have been a vampire attack. There was too much life left in her, too much blood. Probably a mugging or something. Frankie could feel her heart race in her chest and her breathing quicken. She'd avoided situations like this almost all of the years that she'd had a human form. She'd kept away from anything where blood was involved, it just made a lust rise up in her.

Relinquishing her real form for a human one had been the hardest thing she'd ever had to do and to begin with she'd coped very badly, she kept killing, kept giving in. That was until it drew attention to her all those years ago. Suddenly with no one being sacrificed to her she was stuck, there was nothing to fuel the fire that burned in her. The need for death and destruction. She got to the point where she was killing without reason, killing just because she could.

She'd stopped that a long time ago and had done well. She'd lived as a human, had worked with the Mafia and in most cases had avoided hugely bloodthirsty fights. When she had seen death around her it had been simple, often not too bloody. And she'd never been alone. Until now. If Frankie didn't do something then this woman was going to die, but she couldn't just stay here with her and help. She was putting the woman in more danger by just being around.

Frankie sucked in a deep breath the coppery smell of blood filling her nostrils. She'd have to call an ambulance. She did just that, she spoke shakily to the person on the other end of the phone before hanging up and leaving the alleyway. She had to get far away from all this, needed to stop thinking about the blood pumping from that woman out onto the street. Even when she was a few blocks away the smell still lingered. Luckily it was the middle of the night and there was no one around.

This was a good thing, the smell of that dying woman's blood coupled with seeing someone who had fresh blood pumping around their veins may have been too much for Frankie. If she satisfied the blood lust then this feeling wouldn't go away. It would get worse and she'd be an uncontrollable mess, she could kill and kill and let that be her calling in life. No cell could contain her but eventually someone would kill her and Frankie didn't want that. What she wanted to do was live a pseudo-normal life of travel, casinos and whatever else blonde humans were supposed to get up to.

She'd been living this lie so well that vampires didn't even know what she was. The legend of the Death Walker had been lost over those thousands of years. No one know what she was, they just knew she was unnatural. She was hiding in this body, really, but it felt normal now. She was so used to being human that sometimes she really did feel human. She'd settled into this way of life, as long as nothing distracted her from it then she could do what she wanted.

Of course, she still used her powers to get what she wanted, she'd never be able to get around if she didn't have money, ID or a passport. She was one big lie but it was a brilliant one. She had a back story that went back thousands of years. She'd seen people change, civilisations grow and yet she never aged, never changed.

Always deep down there was that primal instinct, that need and want for blood. She had to stay away from vampires, they had no qualms about waving their victims and blood under her nose. She wondered if any of them had caught onto the fact of what she was. One of their oldest ancestors. The vampires had killed most of the Death Walkers off many years ago. They hunted in packs while Frankie's people were just a few. Frankie was solitary and had steered clear of the wars.

During the first her people had come out on top then scattered to the far reaches of the planet. Then the second war came 600 years later, the vampires had grown in numbers, the Death Walkers had no chance. Frankie had adopted a human lifestyle early on. She'd kept out of the way. She didn't want to fight those sick creatures. A disgusting human, Death Walker hybrid.

The Death Walkers, or Latika as they were known amongst themselves, were one of the oldest races on the planet.

A small, awkward, slightly slashy Supernatural fic.

2010-09-28T15:32:00.003Z

Sam stopped dead as he walked into the motel room to see Dean naked, tied to the bed and gagged.

"Oh my God, Dean. What happened?" he rushed in and pulled the gag from his brother's mouth before untying him.

"Demon, seduced me, tied me up."

"Did you know it was a demon?"

Dean sat up and rubbed his wrists, "fuck, no. Of course I didn't. You really think I'd let ea demon seduce me?"

Sam looked him over, "yes."

Dean hit him on the arm before beginning to get dressed. "We need to find it, it took the cross."

That cross was pivotal in getting rid of the plagues that had swept over this town. The demon obviously had something to do with that. "Okay, what did she look like?" Sam asked looking at Dean who was just shrugging his jacket on.

"He," said Dean quietly.

"What?"

"Oh don't judge me, Sammy." Dean snapped, "let's go." He pushed past his brother grabbing the keys to the Impala and leaving the motel room.

Sam followed and got into the passenger seat of the car. "Okay, so what are we looking for." He was baffled by the fact that Dean had just admitted that he'd let a man seduce him. It wasn't a big deal but Sam had no idea that Dean was into all that. "What does this guy look like?" But he was curious, it was going to take a while to get his head around this.

"Er, well. He was tall. Dark hair." That wasn't very helpful, "look I don't really know, I was drunk." But he knew exactly where they should look first, the bar Dean had met this guy in. Dean noticed Sam's questioning look as they pulled up to the bar, no doubt he was about to come out with some smart quip about how now wasn't the time for a drink.

"This is where I met him," said Dean. It was rather clear that he was now feeling rather self-conscious and embarrassed about the whole situation. He turned the Impala off and got out. He really didn't want to go into this bar. He couldn't really remember what he'd done in here. It was lunch time now, they may have to wait until the evening before they met anyone they could get answers from.

The smell of booze in the bar was familiar and also reminded Dean that he was actually quite hungover. He groaned and looked at Sam, this was the last place he wanted to be right now but it was necessary. Dean sat himself at the bar and the barman walked up.

"Not you again." He said screwing up his face in disdain.

"Excuse me?" said Dean.

"You were in here last night." Said the barman.

"Did you see who I was with?" Dean asked

"It was hard not to see, you two were all over one another. Were causing quite a scene." He looked disgusted.

Dean looked down at his hands on the bar, he had no idea what Sam must think of him.

"Do you know him?" Sam asked. If this guy were a local then maybe he'd been possessed.

"Who are you, scorned loverboy?" spat the barman.

Dean looked at Sam and then back to the man behind the bar, "do, you, know, him." He pronouced all of his words harshly, threateningly. He was losing his patience fast.

"No, he's new around here. Only started coming in here a few days ago."

"And do you know where he's staying?" Dean asked. God this man was unhelpful.

"No. But he'll probably be in here at 6pm like he is every night."

Dean looked at Sam, they could spend their time somewhere a bit more hospitible than this while they waited for 6pm to arrive. "Fine, thanks." said Sam as he grabbed Dean by the arm and dragged him out of the bar. They probably had a lot to talk about but Sam was pretty sure that he was going to get nothing from Dean.

"Do we need to talk about this?" Sam asked as he got into the car.

"Nope," replied Dean as he started the engine.

Writing, slash and Supernatural

2010-09-22T09:55:00.001Z

Can I take a minute to have a small fangirl about the fact that Supernatural season six starts in the states on Friday. I've just caught up on the last five seasons in the last few months and I'm so obsessed. Because we have to download it we won't get to watch it until Saturday morning so no internets for me until it's been watched.

It'll be nice to be up-to-date with the world rather than seasons behind.

As for new telly House started on Monday and I got to watch it last night. It was good, very comedy filled. We also watched The Event. Not sure how I feel about that one. The ending was a bit on the odd side but I'm definitely looking forward to the next. It's a bit like Lost in the sense that now I'm like: 'NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS!'

My escape from the last few weeks has been a story that I've been writing with my co-conspirator, Nellie. A story of a dystopian society, hot men, slash and a fucked up government. Oh my god, it's brilliant. I'm so into it and it means that I've been neglecting my story with Ces. As well as neglecting work, novel, Fabian and so on.

My whole day is spent practically staring at my email waiting for Nellie's replies to come through. Then I arm myself with coffee and reply. Strangely I've been quite productive in the bits in between. I'm also inspired beyond belief. Although not for much other than the dystopian joy that skips into my inbox a few times an hour.

Tomorrow

2010-09-22T09:26:00.001Z

Tomorrow is the funeral of my lovely Grandad. I have to say I'm a little bit of a mess today. Can't concentrate, not sure what I'm supposed to be doing here at work.

I'm going straight from work to Mummy Wilde's and then the whole family is going out for a meal. Is it bad that I'm looking forward to that? I very much doubt all of this will be a sombre affair, I'm not sure the Wilde family can do that. We'll all be drunk on sherry.

It's going to be nice hanging with the family they are all great, fun people. It's just a shame that we all get together during tragedy.

I don't know what to do with myself. Urgh.

On Friday I've got a big meeting about two hours away. So I have to be at work at 7:20am. Which means leaving Mum's at about 6:40. Not fun, especially as I can't resist alcohol and it's probably going to be flowing quite freely.

Cue emotional wreck.

The pope, religion, atheism and gays

2010-09-16T10:32:00.001Z

This is going to be controversial. Hopefully it'll stir a few hardcore Christians up.

So all this newsy stuff about the Pope coming to visit has got me thinking. Generally I don't care. I don't particularly like him. So his visit doesn't really fuss me. However, the hubub around him is quite hilarious.

Firstly, my views. I class myself as agnostic. I believe there's something else. But if it is the god that all these damn Christians believe in then I don't agree with what he says. He sounds like a bit of a dick. I've read that nowhere in the bible does it say that homosexuality is a sin. I haven't investigated this. If god is all up for the gay then I'd be a bit more willing to listen. But that's not the point, a lot of his followers believe that some nice, fun things are sins.

Like:

Drinking
Shagging
Same sex anything
Fun

Now this isn't everyone, I'm mainly referring to crazy extremists. Like that family who think other Christians are sinners too. They crazy.

Faith

But having faith is a good thing. Having a community of people around you who want to do good is a lovely thing. Recently the church has kept my Grandma strong. And what do atheists think when loved ones die. It must be harder to lose someone and to think the cease to exist completely.

I had a really good friend/colleague who was an amazing Christian. He never preached to me - which I adored him for. He did charity stuff, had loads of friends, was supported by his church in hard times and wasn't the sort who felt he needed to cut sex and drink out of his life.

The support the church gives and the work they do for communities is good. I like that.

Extremists

Every religion has its extremists, granted some are more extreme than others - like those dudes who flew the planes into the World Trade Centre. Religion causes war.

And we can't think that Christians are all lovey dovey and tolerant. This is going back a bit but remember the Crusades? I'm not sure of the details but it was basically Christians going around killing anyone of other religions.

My general knowledge isn't great but I'm sure loads of you could give comment on other extremist religious sects. Oh, people who sacrifice people. That's weird too.

Preaching

Religions preaching to one another. That's fine. It's expected.

Not to me though. Luckily we don't have all that many Jehovah's Witnesses or similar come to our door. And if we do I make Mr. Wilde answer the door. He's quite happy to be like, "yeah, atheist. Kindly fuck off."

I used to be a bit of a goth and there were many a times where I had to explain that I wasn't a devil worshipper because I didn't believe in the bible. "The devil isn't a Christian thing." I'm pretty damn sure he is.

I don't think you have to be Christian/religious to be homophobic but the chances are if you are religious you're against two seriously hot guys getting it on.

Would it be inappropriate to post a video from Rocket Tube now?

Even my mum thinks it's wrong. I'm so open about my slashiness. And I'm pretty damn open about how I would quite happily shag anything relatively pretty if I wasn't with Mr. Wilde. I like boys and I like girls. HOW CAN YOU NOT LIKE BOOBS!?

I went to America and I found myself surrounded by the weird and religious and because I know that America is a lot more fanatical than the UK I was worried when we found ourselves in the middle of nowhere in a lady's B&B which had Jesus on the wall. As an unmarried couple sharing a bed I thought we were going to get doused with holy water and stabbed before we could speed out of there the following day.

I think that's all. I've completely lost the point I was trying to make.

Car Wilde

2010-09-14T16:07:00.001Z

I really wish I knew loads about cars. I feel I know a fair amount and I know what people are talking about. But some - non-girly - part of me wishes I knew how to get under the hood of my boring little car and change the spark plugs, top up the brake fluid etc.

A sexy day spent chatting to the lovely Pistonheads people has brought me to realise that cars shouldn't excite me this much. But they do and I should do something about it.

Currently I know:

What spark plugs are
Why I chose not to get my wheels balanced
Why (sort of) my brakes squeal
Where to put water in for my windscreen washers
How to top up and check the oil in my car
How (in theory) to removed a wheel to check state of brake pads

What I'd like to know:

How to parallel park
How to change spark plugs
How to change oil
How to change a tyre
How to respray
How to fix rust
How to do up a 1988 Audi Quattro.

Mr. Wilde's niceness

2010-09-08T14:39:00.001Z

He's been really nice to me since my Grandad got ill and died - I suppose if he wasn't nice to me through hard times I'd have to rough him up a bit - it's lovely.

But that makes me think that maybe he should always be this nice to me and usually he isn't anywhere near as lovely as he's been these last few days.

Just saying. I might be living with a complete and utter cunt.

Not that it matters.

Still love him.

The Muse

2010-09-08T14:32:00.001Z

Not the band, you assbutt.
(I finished Supernatural. Castielove)

I wanted to write something about how the muse, which in my case is for writing, just takes hold of you at the most ridiculous of times. I've been through hell these last couple of days - this includes having to write about grandparents' words of wisdom for work, days after my Grandad dies.

Anyways. I'm writing a novel, it's twisted, gory, scary and weird. As you'd expect. I'm 25k words in. I neglected it for a while then all of a suddenly knew exactly what was going to happen in every scene. I wrote and I wrote. More in a few days than I have in months.

Not to mention I've been able to start up a roleplay and continue rather actively.

I'm now about to start a RP-esque thing with my bandmate, which we intend to turn into a novel. I've written my intro post and I'm itching to get going.

Because it's the two of use there's going to be some serious bromance, slash, angry sex between the two main characters.

Oh man, can't wait to get this one going.

So, in conclusion. My Muse responds to tragedy. Great.

I feel I might have to start sacrificing baby animals once this inspired writing frenzy floats off into the void.

Death

2010-09-06T10:44:00.001Z

My Grandad died over the weekend. I'm not sure I'm emotionally equipped to handle such a tragedy. He'd been ill for a while but he was okay. In and out of hospital feeling a bit under the weather.

He got to a nursing home and we were so happy that he was out of that awful hospital. He'd told us that the nurses were being mean to him and that depressed me no end. So it was a joyous day when my mum texted me on Thursday to say Grandad was going to the nursing home much closer to all the family.

I arrived home after work looking forward to going to the cinema with Mr. Wilde. As soon as I got in he told me to ring my mum.

Apparently Grandad had been in the nursing home for all of 45 minutes before being rushed up to hospital after choking on some bacon. Not the fault of anyone with him at the time, he was just hungry and trying to shovel too much in. I blame mean nurses from the hospital for not making sure he was eating properly.

Mr. Wilde and I didn't get to the cinema, we spent most of the night in A&E. Eventually we left, there was nothing we could do. My parents and Grandma waited there until gone 10pm and it turned out we could've all gone into see Grandad but they didn't know we were there despite Grandma travelling up in the ambulance with him.

I swear that place needs sorting out. My Grandma almost died there because of their incompetencies.

So Friday Mr. Wilde and I decided that we should go clubbing. Celebrate our lives and get away from being grownups with problems.

I was faffing over what to wear. I was half way through a mismatched outfit when my mum rang. Grandad was worse and we might get the call to say he was dying that night.

It was so sudden, I knew he was ill but thought he was quite the way off death.

Mum said we should go out but be prepared to rush to the hospital. We didn't go clubbing but I left the house in my mismatched outfit and headed the 20 miles to mums. We stayed there that night. No phone call came.

The next morning we went to the hospital to see Grandad. One lung was completely full of fluid. He didn't have the strength to cough and he looked thin and weak. We couldn't understand anything he said. I don't think he was there, he was moving his hands as if he was doing something else. I like to think that he couldn't feel the pain or the stab of not being able to catch a breath. Instead I hope he thought he was making a cup of tea or stroking the cat.

It was a harrowing sight but when we left I gave him a hug and told him I loved him and that I'd see him soon.

We went back to mum's because I didn't really want to be away from the family. We got fish and chips and settled down to watch X-Factor.

8:15 - We got that call

Mum and Step-Dad piled into Step-Dad's van. Mr. Wilde and I got into his car, we had to pick up Grandma. We arrived at her house only to hear her say my uncle would pick her up.

Off we went to the hospital. The 25 mile drive took 30 minutes. It usually takes nearer to an hour.

Mum and Step-Dad parked in the disabled space out the front and we parked next to them seconds later but they were already running to the ward.

Visiting hours were over so we had to press the button to be let into the ward. I saw, through the glass, Mum and Step-Dad with the nurse. Mum turned into Step-Dad for a hug. I looked at Mr. Wilde. I knew they'd been told the worst.

The door opened and Step-Dad was walking towards us.

"He's passed away," he said before hugging me.

Despair washed over me and I felt tears prickle at my eyes but I didn't really take it in. I went with Mum into the doctor's office. We sat down and were brought a cup of tea. Tea helped but it didn't take away the sting of seeing my mummy crying.

Grandad had died at 8:15pm. Just after my Grandma had received the call. There was no way we could've got there in time.

Uncle, aunt, cousin and Grandma arrived and other uncle - who lives away - called. Mr. Wile cried, I cried, cousin cried, mummy cried.

We were then told we could go and see him. I almost didn't. But I didn't want to miss out on the chance to say goodbye. We all went into the side room where he'd been for the last couple of days.

What I saw and went through in there will haunt me for the rest of my life. My Grandad looked like a corpse. He was but he looked like all the life had been sucked out of him only after being dead for half an hour.

He had one eye still a little open and the nurses had been unable to shut his mouth.

I cried, god I cried. Tearful sobs wracked through me as Mr. Wilde hugged me from behind. I've never felt such misery and despair.

My Grandma began the Lord's prayer. It was only appropriate for a mainly Christian family.

I hate religion but the strength my Grandma had in such a terrible situation was amicable. Religion makes people strong in hard times and while I believe it has lead to a lot of the world's problems there' a lot to be said for believing someone is going to heaven after death rather than just ceasing to exist.

Right then embraced religion. Grandma went off into quoting Psalms (I think) and I looked down at my hands. I couldn't look at the dead body in the bed. That wasn't my Grandad. He was no longer in the sick shell he'd been living in for the last so long. He was free, no longer suffering, coughing or not knowing where he was.

That made me feel better but just seeing him there like that was harrowing. And to see all my Mum cry like that was horrible.

I say goodbye and goodnight to my Grandad. I'm sure he's watching over us now.

I have to say the nurses were great. Caring, informative and sweet. Not everything about that hospital is bad, they do a good job more or less. It must be difficult.

I'm at work now. Shakey, exhausted and spaced out. I need to go home and sleep.

Chloe

2010-08-31T12:03:00.001Z

When I was about 14 I lived a weird and exciting life. I'd drink, talk about boys and go to the theatre. I did music stuff, skipped school regularly and spent most of my time in the pub. My best friends were 18. And my bestest friend was called Chloe.

We did everything together, we'd spend whole weekends in one another's company. We shared everything, talked intimately and had LOADS of in jokes.

We both grew up, she moved in with older boyfriend (after what can only be described as a bit of a scandal.)

We grew apart. To the point where we were only in touch a few times a year. Well, that's changed. After speaking a lot over the last month or so she came round mine on Friday night while Mr. Wilde was out. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my life.

We reminisced, drank, ate Indian food and did video karaoke.

Guys if you've got an old friend out there who you used to have any awesome time with then you should call them and go out.

God I've missed her.

I got Twitter and I feel better

2010-08-27T13:45:00.000Z

Right, firstly you should all follow me on Twitter. I'll give you free stuff, or something...

www.twitter.com/VeerWilde

Secondly, writing that post yesterday was so cathartic. I feel loads better and I'm actually looking forward to tonight.

I'm going to get so fucking wasted.

Just in: I'm crazy

2010-08-26T18:13:00.001Z

Getting stuff off my chest really helped. Thank you new blog. Mr. Wilde has been appropriately affectionate upon my return home. I actually feel quite loved.

Why am I so paranoid?

The happiest two weeks of my life

2010-08-26T14:41:00.000Z

I went on holiday recently. Mr. Wilde and I hired a car and drove 3000 miles around America. Those were the happiest few weeks of my life - so far.

Things have changed since then. Recently Mr. Wilde has been grumpy, unhuggable and snappy. I don't know what's wrong with him. I keep asking and he keeps saying 'nothing'. It's not nothing because I feel fucking miserable.

It might be because I'm an untidy bitch who doesn't help around the house. I'm getting better and I've been trying so hard these last couple of weeks. He doesn't see it, we aren't living in complete squalor. The dining table has some stuff on it and I need to do some filing but it's not bad and I can't see it.

I feel so helpless.

I'm going to have a major tidy up tonight while he is playing computer games.

But back to happy times. I wish we were still on the road, I wish we were still laughing at Americans' accents and finding weird, quirky places to eat. I wish we were listening to live music at Niagara falls.

Most of all, I wish I could have a fucking hug and stop feeling so damn miserable.

He's at work and he's busy. But I've been texting him these last few days telling him how shitty I feel. He could take 30 seconds out of his day, or even on his walk home to text me back and tell me everything is going to be okay.

Or when I get home he could give me a massive hug rather than complaining about how the dinner he cooked for me isn't going right or how the cat smells. Just a hug, a kiss. Tell me it's okay, please. I feel so crap.

I trust him. More than anything. But he's going out on Friday night with works friends. I am not allowed to go (despite having a good relationship with his work friends.) Loads of the girls at his work fancy him and I'm so paranoid that he'll get drunk and do something stupid.

I guess that means I don't trust him.

It's not that, it's paranoia. I hate the fact that he is out having fun without me. And I hate myself for admitting that. I'm such a cunt. I've got a friend coming over for drinks, if she wasn't going to be with me on Friday night then I'd be a mess. I need to try not to text him at all.

I'm a paranoid person but this stems from him saying - a few years ago mind you - "I was dancing with this girl last night thinking 'I could kiss her but I'm not going to because I get to go home to (you).'"

YOU WERE DANCING WITH A GIRL!

YOU WERE THINKING OF KISSING HER!

You're a cunt and it's no wonder I hurt you when I'm drunk. He shouldn't want to dance or even think about kissing anyone but me. Does he think about his girl work mates like that. Is this an opportunity to get in there and do some hardcore flirting because I'm not around.

I can't handle this. I love him more than life itself. Things aren't always this bad. Normally we are the perfect couple because I don't let the neuroses show. After Friday things will be back to normal. I hope to fuck that he isn't horrendously hungover on Saturday because I'll need him for hugs more than ever. Plus he's infuriatingly boring when he's hungover.

I don't think he'd ever cheat on me. But that doesn't stop me over analysing every little thing he does. Playing out every terrible scenario in my head. Part of my is convinced that he is about to break up with me. I would be lost without him.

All that I want to do is marry him.

I keep playing it through in my head, if he came back from his night out saying he'd kissed a colleague I'd say that I'd split up with him. But I wouldn't. The pain of being without him would be too much. Fuck, if he tried to stab me in the throat I'd still stay with him.

I can't remember the last time I saw him smile.

I don't want to make him unhappy but I think I do. What can I do, internet? I've tried talking to him, he still says nothing wrong. Well why does he have a face like a slapped arse?

I wish we were back in America, totally in love with no one else to worry about or think about.

On ghosts

2010-08-26T13:21:00.000Z

I work in an old Georgian farmhouse and there's no one here but me and the dogs at the moment. Creeping around this place is something spooky. Something that is determined to freak me out and make me run down the stairs and lock myself in my office after going to the loo.

Sorry, ghost. I'm stronger than that. You've no idea what I could do to you.

I saw a ghost once. It was walking towards me in the woods, I was overcome with calm. I later found out it was the ghost of my friends nan. Her ashes had been sprinkled there. Weird. Not sure what I believe, I don't think you should just be able to see a ghost. But then, I have no explanation for what I saw. Trick of the mind, perhaps?

Do you believe in ghosts?

Hospital

2010-08-26T11:55:00.000Z

Over the last god knows how long, I've been spending a lot of time at the hospital. And not because I'm ill but because of family member.

Get this folks, death sucks.

My Grandad is currently there along with Mr. Wilde's Grandad, and his Grandma was there but she died.

I'm sick of that damn hospital. Can everyone be okay so I can stop worrying. Nurses are being mean to my Grandad. I'll salt and burn their damn faces. Wankers.

Re-Hymenated

2010-08-26T11:21:00.000Z

Wow, a first post on a new blog. Just what the world needs, another damn blog. I've got three but this one, my fourth is special, it's anonymous. I am Veer Wilde but of course that name is way to cool to be a real name.

Just call me Wilde.

About five years ago I used to have a blog before it was even called a blog. I would talk frankly on there about everything that was affecting me. The point was that no one I knew really embraced the internet so there was no risk of people I knew reading it. That's changed, my other blogs are well read by internet people and real people alike.

That's no good if I want to talk about what cunts they've all been. I'm a straight talking lady but there's no need to hurt feelings - usually.

So I'm here, you don't know me. Well you might, but you don't know it.

There's no need to tell you about myself. I'm quite boring in real life. One of those people who is in their perfect job, the career they've always wanted but feels they can only be happy if they are hunting demons. Yeah, that's me.