This is now a view that will probably never reoccur, for you see, the fleam market and the regular market have been combined to form one large market. A “supermarket”, possibly? Well, with some of the tat on offer, I’ll not use that phrase.

Today was my first visit to the afore-mentioned “merged” market. The whole day started off extremely un-promising. Thursday is our bin day, so imagine my disappointment when I go and collect the bin, only to feel the depressing feel of cold rain on my balding head. It looked that I’d be missing out on another week of erm.. new market activities. Thankfully, the rain disappeared instantly, and after a shit, shave and shower (only one of those is true), I donned my replacement phone headset, and headed off in the general direction of the town. It’s the first time I’d been out early enough on a Thursday morning to see everyone’s bottle/can recycling boxes full. It would appear that quite a lot of people on this estate have a lot of parties or alcohol problems.

By the time I’d reached the town on foot, the sun was beginning to break through. I had the misfortune of watching a seagull devour a pigeon to within an inch of its life, in the middle of one of the busiest roads in the town. This thing was going hell for leather on this poor pigeon. Traffic eventually forced the seagull to fly off, leaving a mangled, barely alive columbiform in the dead centre of the road. It was one of those “Wish I had my camera” moments. I’ve never seen anything like it before, and I’m assuming, neither had that bloody pigeon.

Shaken up by this whole ordeal (not really), I yoinked some money out of the cash point, and headed in the general direction of the market. I wouldn’t say I’m overly impressed with the whole layout. There seems to still be a great divide between the “flea” and “standard” markets, yet the flea market feels horribly crowded. I can’t be the only one who thought this. While I was exploring the new CDs on Erics’s stall, Andy the Iridium Fan (ATIF) stood right alongside me (plus bike), and didn’t even recognise me until I uttered “Not talking to me, then?”. I don’t know whether it’s a good thing or not that I’m not instantly recognisable from a distance…

Anyway. I got some “classics” from Erics stall, including Mike Oldfield’s “Music of The Spheres” for £1. I’ve been after that album for a while ever since I “heard” an “advanced” “copy”. It’s not my favourite of his, but it has its moments. I remember almost paying £14 for it in the now defunct Zavvi store in Middlesbrough, but I thought “I’ll come back later”. I never went back.

In all, I spent £10 on Eric’s stall. I got some absolute garbage which only I remember, such as “Sacred Spirit / Chants and Dances of The Native Americans”. I remember it for its classics such as Ly-o-Lay Ale Loya, and Yeha-Noha. Honestly, I’m not shitting you. I know these tracks. Imagine my shock when ATIF knew them also, as his dad had it on LP. After purchasing the CDs and departing with ATIF, I headed into the town centre. I decided to miss out on my usual pastie, and instead headed to Iceland to see if they had started stocking the “Birds Eye Essentials” chicken curry again. The answer was negative, and left the store empty handed. I turned my attention to Heron, where I picked up 4 rasperry Ribenas for £1, and two Ross chicken curries for £1. The latter curry is, if I’m honest, diabolical. Small, hardly any rice, full of peas, complicated instructions which suggest the use of the “Defrost” section of the microwave, and they almost always come out drier than a nun’s (Don’t go there -Ed). The Ribena, however, was awesome, despite the fact I drank three of them, and then realised I’d hit my recommended sugar level for the day. No, seriously.

A 288Ml serving of Rasperry Ribena contains 30 grams of sugar. A 500ml can of Carling contains 11 grams. You’ll forgive me for sticking with Carling, then.

Home Bargains was my next stop, where I stocked up on Wispas, cherry coke and rice. Oh, and handwash.

I decided that I couldn’t take the town anymore, and grabbed the next bus back to Mercuryvapour Towers. It arrived in only a few minutes. Unfortunatelty, a phone malfunction meant that I couldn’t listen to music on the way home. Instead, I was left listening, and unfortunately, taking in the conversation from the two old biddies in front of he… “Eeeh, well you shouldn’t let her upset you…. that’ll be what she wants…”. I clearly never got the full conversation. I didn’t particularly care. Hopefully, typing it in here will help me forget.

Daddykins was out when I got home. I ate my curries, and spent the rest of the afternoon in a vegetative state. One thing I was looking forward to was Wimbledon. I never thought I’d say that on here, but I was hooked on what was the most historic day of tennis ever.. I was more interested in the fact that the day before, I’d noticed that the scoreboard had crashed at 47-all. It was something that should never have happened. It did. History was made. It was the first time a flip-dot display had made the news since… well, Chad liked my last post, I can’t have that happening twice.

Scoreboard glitches were rectified, and eventually, the match ended with Isner winning. The final score was something stupid.

ATIF came over, after our meeting at the flea market. I’ve got a few hundred more images to add to the gallery in the very near future.

Following on from the earlier post today, I have returned back from the flea market, with plenty of records and CDs. Unfortunately, it is a bittersweet moment.

My first stop was to buy some singles from a stall I’d previously visited several weeks ago, and picked up a shit-load of really good singles (or, as most other people who know my music taste would put it, a good load of really shit singles). I was hoping that this time I’d be able to repeat this.

Indeed, he had a couple of boxes of singles on display. Some older ones, which appeared in good condition. Hurrah!

I’d picked up 8 for the measly sum of £2, and headed off in the general direction of Eric’s stall. Whilst flipping through the CDs, some stranger asks me a question, after noticing the wad of singles in my hand…

“Did you get those from that stall over there?”, he says, pointing in the direction of the stall over yonder…
I answered affirmatively.
“Oh, because when I looked at them, every single one had a great big gouge in them…”
My heart sank.
“Oh, well there ones ‘looked’ OK”, I replied, whilst contemplating the fact that I could very well have 8 pieces of completely worthless plastic in my grubby little mitts.

I purchased a couple of CDs from Eric’s stall. For those who care, they were “Set The Mood” by David Jordan, “Unplugged” by The Corrs, and “Purple Rain” by Prince.

At this point, I went to check my vinyl. Indeed, my vinyl was ruined. In fact, this one was so deeply sctarched that it actually cracked the record…

So, I’m a bit gutted at the minute. Every single one had some type of purposely made scratch. I’m more gutted at the fact that someone purposely destroyed a whole collection of records for no logical reason. I could have taken them back, but for £2, it wasn’t worth the hassle, and I probably should have looked a bit more clearly than what I did.

Every cloud has a silver lining, however, and I suppose I could use the sleeves (which, were all, except one, generic or company sleeves) to replace some of the more “crumbling” sleeves which house some of my records.

So, with that disappointment confirmed, I headed off to what looked like a new stall. Some guy who I hadn’t seen there before had several large boxes of CDs. Now, on initial inspection, the CDs were garbage. Hundreds of worthless CD-ROMs. My favourite had to be the “interactive guide to weeding”. However, underneath the crust were some actual music CDs, and some good ones at that.

Now, you may remember, that back in September last year, I mentioned that if I was ever listening to a song on my phone (which I do every time I’m at the flea market), and it appeared in the collection of records / CDs I was browsing at the time, then I’d buy it. In fact, that was an almost exact copy and paste from that posting).

This time, I just happened to be listening to “You Got It” by Roy Orbison. One of the first CDs I picked up just happened to have this track on it. The album was “Smash Hits Party ’89″. It suddenly occured to me that I actually have this album on cassette. It was given to me by Narbi Price when we were mere children. I still have those tapes, though no longer have any method of playing them, so it was nice to be able to upgrade them to a format I can still play.

Also “upgraded” was my copy of “Chorus” by Erasure. A song that will always remind me of our annual holidays to Sandy Bay, a little caravan site just south of Newbiggin-By-The-Sea. Chad used to call it “Sandroid Bay”. Overall I paid £3 for 9 CDs, and I even managed to sneak a Michael Bolton one in there, because I do, unfortunately like one of his songs. ONE of his songs. Just one. Uno. Ein. I hope I can’t make that any more clearer. Well, OK, I like two of them, but that’s as far as I’m going.

Moving on very swiftly, before I admit to liking three Michael Bolton songs, I’ll just recap on something I talked about the other day. Sunburn. Yes, after last Wednesday’s day out, I ended up with severe sunburn, which caused much amusement “in the office”. Unfortunatelt, it did leave me looking like some type of alien creature for a few days this week…

The satisfaction of being able to peel great big chunks of skin from my forehead has thankfully allowed me to look a little more human. Now, I have to get a few hours sleep before I return to hell…

Previously, the council charged £20 for each plot and allowed the sellers to spread their stalls out over any empty ones that remained. This isn’t the case now. They’re charging them £20 for each stall that’s used. I think that’s the case. Unfortunately, Hartlepool Mail’s website is so incomprehensibly cluttered and unusable, that I can’t find the article in question (Edit: found it… eventually). Note how they call it the “Wednesday Market”. and not the Flea Market.

So, I shall do my bit to add to the local economy, whilst hopefully getting yet more music, and disposing of the last shred of dignity I have… ‘erasers’ in a potty, anyone?

Anyway, I started this entry with that title, because, as you can probably gather, I have returned from the market of fleas, and I almost bought two things. One was a Natasha Bedingfield CD, as I actually quite like the song “These Words”. And yes, I am almost afraid to admit that. The second thing which almost came home with me was a huge metal halide floodlight…

I don’t think Daddykins would have been too impressed. It looked in good condition too, as if it had only been used for a short period of time. the lamp itself didn’t look blackened.

I also had a welcome visit from the postman the other day. My “No. 1 troll” Chad, actually sent me a postcard! He’s even promised me some beers when he returns home later in the year “as an apology for being an arse so many times”

Speaking of comments, something Noscere commented on, on an earlier post is the building work about to take place over the side of Warren Chippy…

Now, with the housing market the way it is at the minute, and the economy in general, it seems a bit of a strange thing, to start building houses. What is quite clear, is that the landscaping of this land in 2003 was a complete and utter waste of tax payers’ money.

Trees and crocuses were planted, and tarmac paths were laid…

Clearly, these will soon be torn up. No doubt it’s going to be turned into some low-budget housing scheme, and will eventually get filled with smack heads and other undesirables. Joy.

That photo also goes to prove aian that if I take a photo of something, it will eventually have a purpose.

And, now, I’m off to do overtime at work for only the 2nd time ever. Go me!

Therefore, if you are having issues with the site at the moment (I know I am), then that’s why. Hopefully the help desk will be as quick as they were last time.

It’s a shame, as I had quite a bit to type about today, but now, I’m donning my coat, and heading to the flea market. Back whenever!

On Tuesday, I started doing the front garden again. It was an absolute mess. Thanks to the lovely summer we haven’t had, I’d not had chance to cut the grass, so it was almost knee height. So, out comes the lawnmover. There’s something satisfying on seeing the grass disappear, and come out from underneath the lawnmower as green mush. Or, maybe that’s just me.

Next step was the privet. Now, this was a state. Much worse than the grass. Basically, it’s not been cut for about 2 months, as the neighbour borrowed the hedge cutter, and blew it up. That was nice.

So, it’s just been left to grow wild. I had once attempted to start cutting it with shears a couple of weeks ago. I got about an inch across before I realised it was a fruitless excersise and abandoned it, planning to go to Focus later that day and just buy a new hedge trimmer. This obviously hadn’t been done.

So, after making another tiny bit of progress across the hedge with the shears, I totally gave up, dragged Daddykins into the car, off we went to Focus. The only sole purpose for him being there was the 10% discount card he carries. We made our way to the hedge trimmer section and picked up THE BEAST. Bright green, bright yellow cable, blade approximately 2 feet long. This’ll do for me!

Off we went to the till, picking up a pair of sweeping brooms on the way. I flashed my credit card at the lovely young lady on the counter, while Daddykins flashed his discount card. By this time, however, the rain was lashing down, I had no chance of being able to do it today, so the beast of a machine would have to lie dormant for another day.

On the way back, I went to Nettos, had a good old chinwag with Elaine, who now works there, after giving Employment Palace the old heave-ho several months back. Off we went home, and I got prepared to go out for the night. The rain was still bouncing off the rain at this point. The day took a turn for the worse, as I suddenly realised that my wallet had vanished. I’d last had it when in Nettos. GAH! Luckily, I’d got cashback, so I still had some funds for the night, but I was obviously a bit concerned over my missing moolah holder.

Eventually, I had to leave, otherwise I’d have never got out. I left Daddykins looking for it for me. He’s nice like that.

While I was stood at the bus stop, my mobile rings. The wallet had been located, it was in my room, under my chair. Thank god for that. It was the first time my wallet had been missing for a long period since 14th March 2004

Anyhoo, that cheered me up, and I went to the club for a couple of games of snooker, and while the rain fell out of the sky at an alarming rate, I continued to pot balls at a strangely accurate rate.

Chris reunited me with my wallet, as he’d seen Daddykins downstairs in the bar. Several hours later, I returned home, and went to bed, as Wednesday was the delivery date of my camera. Hurrah!

I awoke early. This was nothing to do with the camera, but in fact my guts churning excess acid, probably down to the alcohol, and half a packet of beef slices I’d consumed before going to bed. Well, I say bed, I chose to sleep on the sofa, as my bed was filled with various computer parts, and I was too lazy (read drunk) to clear it off. Actually, there was another reason. I’d need to be near the door so I could answer it with enthusiasm should the delivery turn up early, instead of fighting my way into clothes as I headed down the stairs.

Obviously, thanks to that excess acid, I was awake and up early anyway, so it turned out I didn’t need to sleep on the sofa after all.

I started on some maintenance to the gallery DB, that killed an hour or so. It was 9AM, and the weather was looking quite decent. This obviously meant that it was time to attack the flea market, as is always the tradition on a Wednesday, assuming I’m not working, and the weather looks OK.

Now, when I go to the flea market, I’m always in a world of my own, as I have my music playing through earphones. I made a little pact with myself, similar to what I did with the Bruce Hornsby record. Anyway, I said to myself, that if I was ever listening to a song, and it appeared in the collection of records / CDs I was browsing at the time, then I’d buy it.

In all of the times I’ve been down the flea market with music playing, it’s never once happened. This time, it happened twice. Maybe I’ve just had obscure music playing in the past.

Just as the opening drum beat of “Teenage Kicks” by the Undertones started, I pulled out a CD entitled “The Sounds of the Suburbs”, and indeed,Teenage Kicks was on there. Therefore I bought it… it only cost me 50p. I’ve wanted this CD for ages anyway, as the cover contains a nice image of a concrete lamp post. I remember seeing it advertised way back in 1992.

I was flicking through a box of singles, whilst listening to “68 Guns” by the Alarm. Guess what appeared in the pile? Yes, that very song. I couldn’t go back on my “word” so bought it, along with another pile of records. Due to the current state of my computer equipment, I’ve played neither the CD or record, but more on that later.

I also bought some clothes pegs while I was there. I bet you really wanted to know that too.

At this point, I entered the town centre itself. Normally my first purchase would be the corned beef pasty from Greggs, but they have put their prices up again. From 73p, to 75p. Considering they have 3 stores in the shopping centre alone, they obviously can do without my trade, so I thought I’d take my business to one of the alternate bakeries.

This was a big mistake.

I bought some sausage rolls. I thought I’d get them in bulk, and take a couple home for my dad. This was a big mistake, as they were rank. Firstly, all 4 sausage rolls got put into the same bag, which instantly turned translucent from the grease. This meant it would be impossible for me to eat just one in the “half in the bag” tradition, without the other ones falling out.

I had to go to the poundshop and purchase something, just so I had a carrier bag to carry these home in.

With my sausage rolls slowly degrading, I hopped on the bus home, and returned back to Mercuryvapour Towers, clutching my belongings.

I got home, and inspected the sausage rolls. The bag was entirely translucent at this point, and the grease had seeped through into the base of the carrier bag. These were going to be… how you say… different?

I placed them on a plate, and took them into the living room. I had only taken one bite, when the doorbell rang. My camera was here! I’d only been in the house seven minutes! Suddenly, I’d lost all interest in the sausage rolls, and I headed to the door. I grabbed the box, signed for it, and unpacked everything, putting the battery on charge within minutes of it passing the threshold. I’d used one in the past, so I knew what to expect.

OK, so I had two hours to kill while the battery charge. Obviously I couldn’t really do much with it on a flat battery. This is where THE BEAST came into play. Yes, the hedge cutter I’d bought yesterday was going to have its first very public airing. Now, I was used to the old shitty thing we had previously. The old one had the cutting power of… something very blunt. I was expecting something similar from this one. I plugged it in, and off we went. Oh, my, it was like a knife through hot butter. The old one kept jamming at the single thought of a slightly tough twig. This one just ate them. It even came with the interesting smell of burning components! I assumed that this was because it was new, so didn’t really bother. It worked perfectly.

Unfortunately, as the summer is almost officially over, I’ll not get a chance to use it again until next spring. You’d better believe I’ll be counting down the days until I get to break out THE BEAST again. Anyone want their hedge cutting? Only joking.

Soo, after sweeping up the majority of the clippings, I head back into the house to check the status of my camera battery. Just as I approached it, the LED switched from red to green, meaning it was fully charged. Wooooooo! I abandoned the hedge clippings, and returned to the camera.

Daddykins assisted me a great deal, by managing to work out how the hell the neck strap goes on. Eventually, after working out how to fit the lens, I was all ready to go. I was a bit concerned about my memory card. Andrew D had bought a fast-speed one for his. I didn’t, hoping and praying that my range of memory cards would be suitable. Thankfully, I’m happy to report that they are, and all of the cards work fine with the camera, even the 32Mb Kodak MMC card (though it takes 10 times longer to do a low-level format than it does with the other larger cards)

The camera upgrade does mean one important thing. It means that after only 40 minutes of the battery being charged, I was able to take images such as this one…

The only thing I need to purchase now is a tripod. I tried taking some night shots without one, they were abysmal. I also need a remote.

Obviously, I’ll post updates in the next few days

I’m sorry to break that news to you, and I’m sure you’ll all be devastated at the news. Yeah, righto.

Let me start off by saying I still have one niggling doubt. A doubt that I can’t explain in detail, though it is something that could easily mean that one of us does not fly. I have been assured that this “slight difference of opinion” has been corrected, but I will not know until we arrive at the check-in desk at Newcastle Airport on the appropriate day.

I shall, for once, pull myself away from looking forward to my holiday, and comment on what is happening right now. Looking out from the turrets of Merucuryvapour Towers, I can inform you that the sky is leaking. A lot.

It’s been another three days off where I’ve done quite a bit, but it feel like I haven’t. Let’s start off with Wednesday. It was the only day of the week where I was able to do what I wanted – the only day where the rain wasn’t constantly bouncing off the tarmac.

On Wednesday, I’d finished at 8AM. Normally, at this point I’d go straight to bed, in the vain hope of being able to get up at a reasonable time and make some use of the day. Thankfully, this didn’t happen, and I was physically able to stay up. Chris had phoned me the previous night, and we’d made plans to meet at the flea market. This was always doomed to failure.

I rang Chris at 9AM, as we’d planned, and arranged to meet in the town centre. Unfortunately, for once, *I* didn’t get the message, and totally misunderstood this simple instruction. Mohh. After a nice walk around the flea market (well, I say nice, I spent more money on CDs than I care to mention), I went for one last look through some records. Just as I was about to flick through them, I noticed the 242 approaching. My searching stopped, and I headed off to the bus stop, stuck my paw out, and alighted afore mentioned public transport.

Just as I’d got to Raby Road, my phone goes. It was Chris.

Him: “Where are you at?”
Me: “On the bus, going home”
Him: “Shit… I’m in the town centre”

Poo. I thought he was going to ring me when he was about to set off, and not when he was in the town. Oops.

All was not lost, however, as he had stuff to do in the town anyway, and he said he’d come straight up to Mercuryvapour Towers as soon as he’d finished.

I returned home, and while I was waiting for him, I did a bit of tidying, or rather, threw the hoover around the place for a bit. Hilarity ensued as I managed to get a bit of plastic stuck in the hoover brushes, meaning that every time it went over a bump or some sort, the thing screamed. Eventually, and with the help of one of those large forks you stab turkeys with, I freed it, and my hoovering continued unceremoniously.

Chris came over just as I was finishing. We sat around out in the back garden for a bit, deciding what we would do for the rest of the day. The weather was gradually improving, and it was eventually decided that we’d have a walk up to Hart. After all, the Sainsbury’s is on the way there, and Chris had yet to see it.

Off we went, and of course, the stop off at Sainsbury’s was included. Chris bought some pop, I bought a bottle of water, two Mars Delights (at the awesome price of 18p each) and, to top it all off, a Calippo. I haven’t had one of those since I was a kid.

We got served by the loudest, most over-enthusiastic assistant I think I’ve ever heard in my life… “HELLO SIR! THAT WILL BE £1.86! THANK YOU SIR! HAVE A GOOD DAY NOW!”

I was trying to work out whether she was just being sarcastic, or whether she really was that loud.

We left, and the walk countinued westward. We walked along the old abandoned road which is becoming ever familiar to me. I was surprised by the fact that a field which had presumably been left fallow this year, had turned into a sea of poppy red…

It wasn’t the only one, there were two fields on the way there. Eventually, we reached Hart, and although we’d enjoyed the walk, it became clear that we’d reached the problem I’d faced each time I was there… there is ABSOLUTELY NOTHING in Hart. Well, OK, there were pubs, but considering I’d came out without my wallet, it wasn’t something I’d be able to partake in. Not that I particularly wanted to, anyway.

Of course, I came up with the wonderful idea of taking more photos while we were there. None of them turned out particularly, awe-inspiring, especially when I asked Chris to take some of me. None of them turned out good at all. In fact, this is probably the only one that doesn’t make me wretch…

Oh, wait. It does. Hooooorp.

After a good walk, and about half an hour of trying to get a good photo of a bee on a flower (and failing miserably), we returned home. Chris stayed for a little while longer, before he headed home. It was about 4PM at that point, and I was starting to feel tired, so I had a lie down on the sofa for a couple of hours. At roughly 6PM, the doorbell rang, it was Andy The Iridium Fan (see gallery) with DVD in hand, of the maritime festival which he’d recorded over the weekend. I didn’t attend this semi-annual event, which took place from 4th – 6th July, for you see, the weather was truly awful.

Chris came back over at about 8PM, and all three of us watched the DVD again, pointing out the goings-on in the background. and having a general good laugh at it.

Andy went, which left me and Chris to discuss the world, and marvel at the musical delight of the Sky News theme. It appears I’ve gotten Chris addicted to it too. Awesome.

Chris went, and I lapsed into a coma until the following morning.

Thursday was the day when I would start getting really prepared for this holiday. Money exchangement was about to take place, shoes would be bought, batteries would be charged, hair would be cut.

At approximately 14:28 and 32 seconds, we left the house, and went off down the town. Daddykins dropped me off at the town centre. Now, the plan was this. I’d be dropped off at the town centre, Daddykins would go somewhere, do what he had to do, then meet me a bit later on the Marina, outside of Brantano, the shoe shop. Fair enough. Seems straightforward.

So, off I toddle to the post office, debit card in hand, hoping to draw out some monopoly money Euros. I approach the lady behind desk 11. the Bureau De Change.

Me: “Can I have €300 please” (whilst holding up card)
Her: “Um… do you have a drivers license or passport?”
Me: [resigned to defeat at such an early stage] “Er, no… didn’t think you’d need it?”
Her: “Pop your card in the slot, I’ll see if I can withdraw cash for you”

[fx: computer bouncing across desk, smoke pouring out of the top of it, big flashing red lights, Family Fortunes 'Ick-urrrrr' sound effect repeating over and over]

Her: “Computer says no.” (note, approximation)
Me: “Er, but if I go and draw out the cash from a cash machine and bring it here, it’ll be OK, yes?”
Her: “Yes. Something to do with the Bank Of England”
Me: “I see… I’ll be back in a minute, then”.

I walk no less than 50 yards to the cash machine, withdraw the appropriate funds, and walk back to Desk 11…

Me: “€300 please…”, I say with a little twinge of sarcasm in my voice, though I try not to overdo it, as I know it’s not the cashiers fault.

Without hesitation, the funds are retrieved from the drawer, and I end up with a wad of notes.

I can’t help but think, “LOL, WTF”. Can someone explain to me why I can’t exchange currency when paying from my own card, without having ID, yet exchange it from cash drawn out of a cash machine with exactly the same card? The only difference is that I’m entering my PIN number onto a different sodding keypad.

Off to get my shoes, then. Brantano is a good quarter of a mile away from the town centre, so a small walk was in order. It would also give Daddykins the time to get from where he was going, to the car park outside of said shop, where he arranged to meet me. I entered the shop, and after a good old browse, I elected for two pairs of size 10′s that looked reasonably comfortable. I approached the check out to be greeted with… nothing. There was NOBODY THERE. What the hell? I was stood there for at least 10 minutes. Nobody came. I even resorted to tactics such as staring at the CCTV camera and shrugging my shoulders in the off-chance that someone was watching it, and would come out and serve me. I almost even resorted to setting off the store detector alarm in the hope of getting someone to come and serve me. Although I’m sure this idea would have worked, I decided against it, and thought I’d just stick it out and see what turned up

Eventually, an “assistant” made her way down the store, and I eventually got served. Awesome.

Now, by this time, I was positive that Daddykins would be in the car park waiting for me. I arrive out the store, and look about.

No car. You have GOT to be kidding me.

At this point, you’d be thinking that it’d be a good idea to ring him up and let him know I was waiting. this would indeed be a good idea, unfortunately, my phone was sat at home, on the landing, on charge. How handy.

At this point, I was wondering what had happened. Could it be that Daddykins didn’t hear me correctly? I clearly said “Brantano”, but was he thinking of somewhere like Staples? TK Maxx perhaps? They’re all down there too, though the other side of the marina. I must have walked the entire car park twice. No sign of him.

Every car that entered the car park got my evil eye at some point, as I attempted to read the registration plates as they went past. None of these cars matched the description I was looking for.

After approximately 20 minutes of standing around twiddling my thumbs, hoping that messages had not been misunderstood, here comes Daddykins. He flashes his lights, and I once again sigh, shrugging my shoulders. This was surely a day of me getting pissed around. I enter the car and ask where he’d been.

“Oh, I gave you an hour, so I went to the marina and got some fish and chips. They were gorgeous”. Eventually, I had to ask him to be quiet about how nice they were, as he failed to get me any chips, and I was not particuarly amused about being kept waiting for god knows how long while he stuffed his face.

After an amazing plate of curry, admittedly cooked by Daddykins, and using a jar of curry sauce that we paid 4p for. It’s the cheapest price I’d paid since I was working at Sharwoods. And it was delicious.

Thursday night saw me at the club. I wore a pair of my new shoes in by having several games of snooker. It was one of those games where I didn’t do well, I just got very lucky. Thirteen-cushions-and-in-off-the-light types of shots. I’d not played for a month, so it was surprising I’d potted anything at all.

I got a lift home from Chris’s dad at the end of the night, and I retired to bed after a couple more cans. In fact, here I am arriving home…

Oh, OK yes, I only included that image because the streetlight at the bottom of the road is off again. Someone climbed up a few nights ago and stole the photocell from the top of it. Speaking of streetlights, I explained my undying “love” for streetlights. (for want of a better expression… after all, there are some people who just take their obsession too far). He found my interest a bit weird, butalso strangely fascinating. Apparently, he’s going to take photos of streetlights outside of his house and allow me to identify them. I doubt he’ll remember, but it would be an interesting experiment either way.

Ahem, moving on swiftly. Friday came like a bolt out of the blue, or rather grey, as all it has done all day is rain. Considering this is the summer, it’s been shit so far. Today was the day I concluded my holiday purchases. Thanks to Thursday’s prick-about, I never had chance to get my hair cut, so I went on Friday instead. I always go to the same barbers, Ian Taylors on Church Street. Unfortunately, Ian Taylor died a couple of years ago, so the shop front is currently being repainted, along with the sign sayign what it is. I almost walked right past it. Not a good advertisement.

After a haircut which technically I didn’t really need, but considering I was going away on holiday, hasd anyway, I headed off to Asda, in order to stock up on some food. Now, what’s odd is that I didn’t buy any beer, or anything for the holiday, yet still managed to spend over £30 on grub for myself.

I returned home, laid on the sofa, watched Countdown, and promptly fell asleep on the sofa, eventually waking up to hear the theme from Channel 4 News as it was finishing.

That was then, this is now, It’s now just after 1AM on Saturday morning. Considering I’m at work for the next few days, this may be the lat post I make before I go away…

At this point, I would like to introduce you to my twitter account. While I am away from my computer, I can keep you informed of shit from my mobile. I bet you can’t fucking wait.

Seriously, I would like to use it to keep track of my “small” movements. It will also give me a chance to use some of the 200 mobile text messages I get allocated each month, yet never use. I will not use it while I’m out of the country, however. You’ll just have to imagine I’m having a nice time. I’m sure you’ll receive a desperately thorough write-up of what went on when I get back, however.

Paris beckons. Auf Weidersehen!

Soooo. By the title, you can guess I’ve spent the last few days taking photos. You’d be right.

On Wednesday, I went to the flea market. IT was a lovely day, yet desperately cold. I wrapped up warm, and headed into the land where CDs are cheap, and second hand underwear are aplenty. I didn’t bother getting any photos, as I already have one. Still I came back with a pile of CDs. One particualr stall were selling albums for 50p each. I had some of that, and I walked away with a handful. Total cost: £4.50. Beauty.

I bought another couple of CDs from another stall, for £2, meaning that I had £6.50 worth of music. Wooo.

It was then, and only then, that I realised, I didn’t actually have my bank card with me, therefore I’d spent what I really couldn’t afford. This cut the day short, naturally, and I headed home, clutching my Netto bag full of music.

Later on in the afternoon, Chris turned up. The day was still bright, if just a little bit chilly. I looked at my camera, looked at the sky outside, and thought “Bugger it, I’m off to take some photos” I donned my coat, and off we went, without any idea of where we were going to go.

Before long, we were heading towards Steetley.

We didn’t go there, however, and instead walked along Old Cemetary Road, and then the beach

Somthing which I wasn’t aware of, is that last year, in July, there was a new gun put in place on the seafront. Now, by “gun” I mean an ornamental gun, not a real one Amazingly, it’s been up for 6 months, and there’s not one sign on vandalism or damage.

Despite the biting wind and freezing cold temperature, I thought it would be a good idea to walk along the Heugh. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the layout and landmarks of this wonderful town, the Heugh is a breakwater, built over 200 years ago to stop the tidal surges from flooding the bay. Without it, the town would be a very different place.

IT was at this point, however, that the sun was beginning to go down, and the temperature to dip even lower, and the wind, coming directly off the sea didn’t help much. It did, however, make for a very nice photo opportunity.

Hartlepool’s very own working class hero “Andy Capp” also had a statue dedicated to him last year. I took photos back in June showing exactly where the statue was going to be, but he wasn’t there. Instead, there was simply just the paving around it, and some orange netting. Thankfully, this time he was there.

Apparently, you have to rub his head for good luck. I didn’t bother. So, we were at the furthest point away from Mercuryvapour Towers. The photo opportunities kept coming, and I kept taking them. After taking some photos of the fish sands, we were both starving. This meant two words. Verrill’s Chippy. I scraped together £2, and bought myself and Chris a bag of chips each, and we sat, in sub-zero temperatures, watching the sun go down. I was OK, but Chris was freezing. Therefore, we headed back to his house. Of course,a photo trip done by me cannot be complete without…

… a photo of a streetlight, or two.

Chris picked up his big jacket, and off we headed, back to Mercuryvapour Towers. in order to sort through and upload the photos. During that process Andrew D appeared, with another disk full of 400 photos, which have now been added to the gallery This takes the total to over 1,900…!

While he was here, I’d learned that Jeremy Beadle had died. I must have been one of the first sites to report this, seconds after posting, I had an influx of visitors, all searching for “Jeremy Beadle dead”…

Anyway, I added the pics, Andrew left, and me and Chris sat there for the rest of the night, deciding that many songs sound a lot better when you play them on a turntable at the wrong speed. If you want to view all of the photos, you can do so here

Chris left, and I fell asleep on the couch in front of what was on TV at the time.

Thursday was a staff night out. After the company “made a slight miscalculation” on the day we were meant to be getting paid, we thought that when we eventually did get paid, that it would be a good idea to go for a few drinks and an indian. Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.

8 of us turned up, which is a pretty good turnout. Of course, I had my camera with me, though there’s no point posting the pics from that, as flickr’s been blocked from work. Oops!

EIther way, that brings me up to date. It’s now just after 12PM, the snow is falling outside, though it doesn’t appear to be laying. Just in case it does, I have my camera recharged, and ready for some “soft white stuff action”. Ahem.