<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415</id><updated>2012-01-31T08:47:52.787Z</updated><title type='text'>Visions of Johanna</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>220</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-6457725565486653863</id><published>2011-11-26T20:39:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-11-26T21:02:49.673Z</updated><title type='text'>The duality of all things</title><content type='html'>The last few months have been cram-packed full of lovely things. Too much to mention...as I always say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pain of Salvation were pretty spiffing in London...even if they were received very poorly by a crowd full of pretentious death metal fans who think that anyone who sings and doesn't growl is a 'pussy'. And that is not speculation, I spoke to plenty of them that night. Sadly. Bloody great night though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have learned recently that having childcare qualifications doesn't make people good with children or even particularly capable of looking after them. I think it's probably personality traits and wisdom that are key (And just to clarify, this is not about any one person in particular - I know several people who have qualified in childcare/teaching, etc and are awesome with kids - just some things I've noticed from a number of different places and situations).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My blue-eyed boy bought me surprise Manic Street Preacher tickets for my birthday. Oh yes. Because I'm awesome and evidently so is he! Strange, one of the brightest parts of my present reconnecting me with the dark threads of my past. &lt;i&gt;'This is the past that's mine'&lt;/i&gt;. It's the show they're playing in London where they shall be blessing (and educating) our ears and souls with every single they've released. All 38 of them. I think it's 38...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that to be friends with someone and to keep a grasp of their loyalty...you need to see them more than several times a month, regardless of what else you have going on in your life. Therefore...rendering 'loyaly' null and void surely? I'll explain, There are some people I see once every few months and still feel as close to them as ever, every time I see them. And then there are others who I have been ridiculously close to, and they seem cold and clammy (err!) whenever I see them recently. As though I have betrayed them somehow. I'm afraid life doesn't really work like that for me. I've learned an immense amount about friendship over the past two years. And my life is better for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quote of the week from random Irish sitcom:&lt;br /&gt;'Step away...from the feckin' vehicle' I'm going to say that to the next person who tries to threaten or intimidate me. :-P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll stop with the wittering now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-6457725565486653863?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6457725565486653863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=6457725565486653863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6457725565486653863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6457725565486653863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/11/duality-of-all-things.html' title='The duality of all things'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5355241746077124142</id><published>2011-09-30T20:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-09-30T20:25:13.348+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Something I said</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Something I find annoying:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;when people who have never been/never go to church/never read the bible insist on getting married in a church. Why why why? It's like...dressing up as a penguin and going to sit in a zoo. Because that's what everyone else is doing. Or something. Not that I'm a Christian as we all very well know, I just cannot stand it when people dress themselves up in an idea that they have no real grasp of, no true belief in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Something I find wonderful: &lt;/b&gt;Road Salt Two. Lots of suspected storylines (ooh that's right, I said it - yes, I do believe Road Salt One and Road Salt Two to be concept albums (the modern definition of a concept album with an actual tale to be told) rather than just thematic masterpieces: have THAT you poncy, pretentious, painfully-tedious prog elitists!) confirmed from RS1. Listening to Road Salt Two is like watching a large building collapsing. With memory-invoking pictures smashed to the floor and rooms falling in on themselves, foundations of a life turning to dust and grey and rubble, a landscape changed forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Something I am enjoying immensely:&lt;/b&gt; Mr. Doyle. Yes yes, I know...I usually only get soppy about the children in my life, but James Doyle has one of the most beautiful souls I have ever encountered. And I've done nothing to deserve it or what we have between us. How strange to hold something so fragile and delicate yet so strong at the same time in the palm of my hands. In our hands.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Something I should be doing right now:&lt;/b&gt; Housework. *yawn*. I'm so glad that I live in the 21st Century right now - there's nothing worse than the prospect of building a giant housewife-shaped coffin to fester away and die in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Something I can't be bothered to do right now:&lt;/b&gt; Complete this blog entry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OMGZ!! EYM SO FUNNAY!!!!111one&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;..Shut up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5355241746077124142?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5355241746077124142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5355241746077124142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5355241746077124142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5355241746077124142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/09/something-i-said.html' title='Something I said'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-7214356464670458380</id><published>2011-09-09T15:43:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T15:43:25.514+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quite frankly, my dear...</title><content type='html'>...I've left it too long since my last blog post. There are too many things to update you with so I shall just continue as I am...vague,&amp;nbsp;nonchalant&amp;nbsp;towards my poor readers, forever floating in a sea of apathy. Apathy towards the internet that is, nothing else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want a Slow Loris, and if I don't get one for my birthday I'l scweam and scweam! ...Or maybe I'll just shrug my shoulders and resign myself to another birthday full of non-events. Although last year's birthday did include one of the most wonderful gifts I've ever received thanks to Zak and James. Anyway, here is what you will buy me on 15th November:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://0.gvt0.com/vi/w89bFK3PvBA/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/w89bFK3PvBA&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/w89bFK3PvBA&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(and the umbrella too)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But seriously, my birthday plans so far consist of a Pain of Salvation/Opeth concert and then a weekend in Eastbourne. For once, I am genuinely looking forward to a birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is pretty amazing, I just wish I didn't get so tired so easily. I could fall asleep anywhere, anytime. And I eat all my fruit and vegetables too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Benathon's birthday (one of my amazing nephews) yesterday and apparently he came downstairs in the morning and asked miserably where 'the sock thing' was. Aww, that's Christmas, you adorable little sillyman! &amp;lt;3 Love him. Plus, he called me 'your majesty' on the phone last night. Kids fucking rule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That'll be all for now, happy campers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-7214356464670458380?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7214356464670458380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=7214356464670458380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7214356464670458380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7214356464670458380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/09/quite-frankly-my-dear.html' title='Quite frankly, my dear...'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-3961314169302901153</id><published>2011-06-29T23:33:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T23:33:41.746+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Also...</title><content type='html'>...I would quite like to live in a Richard Dadd painting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-3961314169302901153?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3961314169302901153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=3961314169302901153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3961314169302901153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3961314169302901153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/06/also.html' title='Also...'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-620931329144694918</id><published>2011-06-29T23:16:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T23:22:14.002+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Life is the art of drawing without an eraser.'</title><content type='html'>I'll start by telling all you lovely people that the other day I watched a few episodes of 'ridiculouslyparanoidandself-centeredvacuouswomen and the city' for the first time in about three years. I have a totally different perspective on that program these days and end up sympathising with the men most of the time - that poor Mr. Big who was so patient with Carrie's constant whining and over-evaluating of NOTHING (not that I can talk about the over-evaluating, but I don't get carried away with a random thought and decide he DOESN'T LOVE ME BECAUSE HE DIDN'T SAY 'I LOVE YOU TOO' WHEN HE WAS IN A RUSH SAYING GOODBYE ON THE PHONE!') and, frankly, I have no idea how he put up with it which leads me to the concluson that women are just fucking mental. Actuuuaaaally mental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NaRXvNBLicI/TgufW7eqFhI/AAAAAAAAAFc/sRhXeC1QXbM/s1600/129174791318984873.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NaRXvNBLicI/TgufW7eqFhI/AAAAAAAAAFc/sRhXeC1QXbM/s320/129174791318984873.jpg" border="0" height="212" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of nice musical things have happened lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dog had to die. I cried. He was the best dog ever. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tpzyHgAIimk/TgufrRbs82I/AAAAAAAAAFg/KJb2J6g4R74/s1600/28576_102165193166639_100001194764389_17074_5907313_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tpzyHgAIimk/TgufrRbs82I/AAAAAAAAAFg/KJb2J6g4R74/s200/28576_102165193166639_100001194764389_17074_5907313_n.jpg" border="0" height="200" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I've done to deserve such a wonderful boy but there he is, standing there in his boots with his big grins and his musicalness. Like a little bundle of happiness and calm for Joanna. This is what it's supposed to be like, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last couple of weeks have consisted of...*deep breath*...visits and utterly lovely times at Shell's parents' house, watching some local wrestling (interesting how the group of guys sitting near us were commenting on the performance, technique, character, and entertaining qualities of the male wrestlers, but only had comments on the appearance of the female wrestlers. Aside from that innevitable letdown from the human race, it was an exciting experience which I will definitely do again! I like a room full of testosterone and sweat, so's I do), continental breakfasts with Jamesface Cookenblau III esq., been to Thorpe Park and went mental on the Saw ride and Colossus (hell yeah!): by the end of the day we looked like shit but were beaming with sunshine from our little faces, sadly had to miss Becca's Butlins Bridesmaid Bash weekend - I'm not enjoying this budgeting malarkey but if I want free time and a bit of peace for my soul I need to compromise my working hours somewhat (I have my bridesmaid dress fitting next week though so that'll be more than fun, innit!), had my feet nibbled by fish and a lovely lunch with mummy Kaykay, as always loads of nice trips to Kev and Shell's with James and my little brother....and I suppose that's about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nQ4t7ya1v3Y/Tgugi36m2qI/AAAAAAAAAFk/LQr1oj8SFik/s1600/250109-saw-ride.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nQ4t7ya1v3Y/Tgugi36m2qI/AAAAAAAAAFk/LQr1oj8SFik/s200/250109-saw-ride.gif" border="0" height="151" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:xx-small;"&gt;Am I the only person who thinks that doll is just a bit too cute to be scary? No? Just me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I am making something birthdaylike and surprisey which I bloodywell hope turns out okay. And cakeybakey times on the morrow after work. Life has picked up a pace again which needed to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I'd just like to say that Adele's voice is enchantingly soulful and seeped in emotion. It's a shame I don't like a massive amount of her music. And I kinda wish she'd sing about some issues other than love. Because that voice could tell some stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/e4467CI4y0M/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/e4467CI4y0M&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;source=uds"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/e4467CI4y0M&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="266" width="320"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That'll be all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;'You've brought back an excitement and curiosity into my life that I thought I'd lost forever.'&lt;/span&gt; &amp;lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-620931329144694918?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/620931329144694918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=620931329144694918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/620931329144694918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/620931329144694918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/06/life-is-art-of-drawing-without-eraser.html' title='&apos;Life is the art of drawing without an eraser.&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NaRXvNBLicI/TgufW7eqFhI/AAAAAAAAAFc/sRhXeC1QXbM/s72-c/129174791318984873.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-9212587933607628251</id><published>2011-06-09T15:02:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T15:06:35.058+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'And all my armour falling down in a pile at my feet...'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" src="http://0.gvt0.com/vi/qKakSadB8pQ/0.jpg" width="320" height="266"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qKakSadB8pQ&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;source=uds"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qKakSadB8pQ&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="320" height="266"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-9212587933607628251?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/9212587933607628251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=9212587933607628251' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/9212587933607628251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/9212587933607628251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/06/and-all-my-armour-falling-down-in-pile.html' title='&apos;And all my armour falling down in a pile at my feet...&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-2948620023893120312</id><published>2011-05-27T17:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-27T17:49:27.015+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>'And indeed there will be time&lt;br /&gt;For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,&lt;br /&gt;Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;&lt;br /&gt;There will be time, there will be time&lt;br /&gt;To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;&lt;br /&gt;There will be time to murder and create,&lt;br /&gt;And time for all the works and days of hands&lt;br /&gt;That lift and drop a question on your plate;&lt;br /&gt;Time for you and time for me,&lt;br /&gt;And time yet for a hundred indecisions,&lt;br /&gt;And for a hundred visions and revisions,&lt;br /&gt;Before the taking of a toast and tea.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-2948620023893120312?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2948620023893120312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=2948620023893120312' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2948620023893120312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2948620023893120312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/05/and-indeed-there-will-be-time-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-2571196297161018582</id><published>2011-05-13T18:46:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-16T10:29:51.943+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Drums like heartbeats</title><content type='html'>Last week a colleague and I took some people to a club called Jumpin' Jacks. It was their learning disabilities night and it was PACKED. The moment that pumping music with your bog-standard basic beats (you know, the usual pop/club crap) started thumping out of the speakers, people's bodies began moving. Now several of the people there were really quite advanced with their disability and had no communcation skills whatsoever but they still &lt;i&gt;felt&lt;/i&gt; the music and moved their bodies to it, almost involuntarily...and it got me thinking of when I hear a winding, sexy eastern drum beat, or a full-on inyerface metal drum solo: my hips can't help but move. It just goes to show that however detached or attached we are from our own societies, we are still truly 'as one' sometimes, and it also goes to show how fucking amazing music is and how if there has been anything close to miraculous during our thousands of tumultuous years on this doomed planet...then that thing is music. Melodies like blood running through veins. Drums like heartbeats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, things have been strangely shit and strangely awesome. Everything is black and white all at the same time. Some new things have happened, and some things that are all too familiar and old. It depresses me how clinically people look at things sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, it's all a bit new and strange to trust someone instantly in &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; way. Am I foolish? Or just lucky? He has a beautiful heart which kind of...shines. I'm used to hearts of all different colours, but not shiny ones! That probably makes sense only to me...shut up Joanna. Strange how it all happened. How he crept inside my head without me really knowing. Sneaky little shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The days move a bit too slowly at the moment; it can be frustrating waiting for depleted energies to creep back into the blue. But I need to look after myself. And that I shall do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Louis Wain's descent into madness and psychosis: fascinating how indicative this simple set of images is of how our view of things around us can become blurred and obscured so very easily...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ERgMEFGKuOI/Tc1uemZrmLI/AAAAAAAAAFY/puCSbwBs4PM/s1600/wain2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="245" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ERgMEFGKuOI/Tc1uemZrmLI/AAAAAAAAAFY/puCSbwBs4PM/s320/wain2.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-2571196297161018582?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2571196297161018582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=2571196297161018582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2571196297161018582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2571196297161018582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/05/drums-like-heartbeats.html' title='Drums like heartbeats'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ERgMEFGKuOI/Tc1uemZrmLI/AAAAAAAAAFY/puCSbwBs4PM/s72-c/wain2.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-7299253170395108706</id><published>2011-05-02T18:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-02T18:22:46.043+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Doubt seperates people. It is the poison that disintegrates friendships and breaks up pleasant relations. It is a thorn that irritates and hurts.'</title><content type='html'>Dynamics change. People behave strangely. Things slip through fingers. Things fall apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oftentimes the best things in life destroy themselves from the inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-7299253170395108706?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7299253170395108706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=7299253170395108706' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7299253170395108706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7299253170395108706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/05/doubt-seperates-people-it-is-poison.html' title='&apos;Doubt seperates people. It is the poison that disintegrates friendships and breaks up pleasant relations. It is a thorn that irritates and hurts.&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5445213921458275338</id><published>2011-04-24T19:45:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T19:59:11.049+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Gushing is nature's way of celebrating excess. That's my excuse anyway.</title><content type='html'>It's Easter. And I don't care about Easter. Or Zombie Jesus. Have that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today happiness sounds like:&lt;br /&gt;Camille O'Sullivan.&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;King Diamond.&lt;br /&gt;Just so you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had an endoftheweek full of musical goodness. Thursday saw Khthon battle it out for their Bloodstock chances and I must say I actually quite enjoyed the dooooooooomness of it all. Needless to say they won and are now in the semi-finals. Well done Mr. Doomwizard \m/. Then Friday was the Electric Circus: another amazing night...probably the best yet actually. Even if the local riverside Gnats feasted heartily on my upper thighs *sigh*. (And check out the &lt;i&gt;awesome&lt;/i&gt; review: &lt;a href="http://www.rockkent.com/2011/04/the-electric-circus-event/"&gt;Click or die.&lt;/a&gt;) &lt;a href="https://www.facebook.com/dogtowntheband"&gt;Dogtown&lt;/a&gt; burst my eardrums (in a good way). Then &lt;a href="https://www.facebook.com/bridesofrain"&gt;Brides of Rain&lt;/a&gt; soothed and excited my soul to the point where my hips, in the end, actually had a mind of their own; sway, sway, jiggle, grind. The metal and ethnic drumming, melodies that lift you away to other lands and planes, the texture of their sound, and the spirit and energy that they weave just takes me right to my primal core.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which perhaps brings me to say how proud I am of my amazing friends. James and Kevin, not only are you the two best friends anyone could ever wish for but you are also two of the most creative and talented people I have ever met. You never fail to inspire me. I won't gush too much...when I moved back to Kent I was apprehensive about whether I would settle back into an old circle of friends or whether I'd be bored of the area again straight away. There were big chunks of myself that I thought had died, never to return. And James (and very recently Kev alongside him) brought them back to life. No matter what happens, who lets me down, where I am headed in life, I can always count on you two for continued support, encouragement, ABSOLUTE understanding, hours of hysterical laughter, intellectual stimulation (*snigger*), honesty (to the point of bluntness...not that I can talk :p), in-jokes, patience, and a comfort I have never had with friends before, and never thought possible. You keep me from that slow boat to China. We're like the guys from A Home At The End of The World. Except I promise I won't have a baby and then fuck off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also worthy of note: it isn't wise to attempt to step on a Scorpio. Because we sting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5445213921458275338?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5445213921458275338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5445213921458275338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5445213921458275338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5445213921458275338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/04/gushing-is-natures-way-of-celebrating.html' title='Gushing is nature&apos;s way of celebrating excess. That&apos;s my excuse anyway.'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-4498218121092221496</id><published>2011-04-14T14:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T14:35:38.896+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Try getting a policeman in an envelope. You'll see what I mean.</title><content type='html'>Well, well, well...it's been quite some time Mr. Blog, has it not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we start, I would just like to say that Killing Joke make life better. There is no question or argument about it. They just do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in short, my last month and a half has consisted of lovely days in London (a pub with a tree &lt;i&gt;in it&lt;/i&gt; and that sells Kopparburg - what more could a girl wish for?); a sponsored walk for Autism in Richmond Park (I raised over 80 quid - get in!), several Brass Band concerts all over ze places (one of which we travelled to in a fish van...yep, a van made of fish...or so it smelt. Grim.); nice family times with the best sisters, brothers, and niece and nephews in the world EVER - fact; Elgar's Dream of Gerontius in Maidstone, Carol's leaving 'do', many evenings and nights at Kev and Shell's having a ruddy blast! Don't mind if I do!; Bluewater (yuk); making lovely new doomy friends; swimming; dinner parties; and knuckling down into some artwork properly. Good and proper. Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alsooooo, The Electric Circus happened, so's it did, with Brides of Rain who simply made the night glitter and shine and dazzle: I got lost in the wonderful mixture of modern and ancient sounds created by some very talented local musicians. I am not feeling very poetic today, I'm afraid, so you won't get any magical descriptions about them just yet. No sir! Anyway, here they are: &lt;a href="https://www.facebook.com/bridesofrain"&gt;Clicky McClickerson - Brides of Rain&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a big spluttering sicky today which explains the fact that I actually have time to update my blog. Ooh and to create a Twitter account. Which I will undoubtedly use intensely for a week and then forget all about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here, have some music:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/MFv53VolRj8/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MFv53VolRj8&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MFv53VolRj8&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice bit of social commentary there. Well done Polly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-4498218121092221496?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4498218121092221496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=4498218121092221496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4498218121092221496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4498218121092221496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/04/try-getting-policeman-in-envelope-youll.html' title='Try getting a policeman in an envelope. You&apos;ll see what I mean.'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-2336833942843190466</id><published>2011-02-27T01:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-02-27T01:31:59.881Z</updated><title type='text'>What would I be without my friends?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/d3K6IMj01Xs/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/d3K6IMj01Xs&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/d3K6IMj01Xs&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends. My amazing friends. They enrich my life and bring me joy daily. And I'm the luckiest girl alive to have the people in my life that I do. Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-2336833942843190466?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2336833942843190466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=2336833942843190466' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2336833942843190466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2336833942843190466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/02/what-would-i-be-without-my-friends.html' title='What would I be without my friends?'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-4910389860870898276</id><published>2011-02-19T22:21:00.002Z</published><updated>2011-02-28T02:20:36.606Z</updated><title type='text'>Titles are for wimps and posers. And mice.</title><content type='html'>During the early noughties I would update my blog almost every day. On one hand, the fact that I no longer do this is a good indication that my life is busy and buzzing and bustling and any other 'b' synonyms you can think of. On the other hand, I find myself sitting here after two weeks of activity wondering how I'm going to sum everything up in a relatively coherent and/or interesting way. Don't get me wrong: I do mainly write these blogs for myself to look back on, but whoever is reading it (even if that is me in ten years) needs to be entertained to some degree, otherwise...well....I suppose my litle brain concludes that that would make the writer boring. And frankly, I can't think of much worse than being boring. Rape? Pah. Mass Genocide? Kid's stuff. Justin Beiber?....okay, maybe he is worse than plain boringness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shut up and get on with your update, dickhead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had a day out with my Father: we went for lunch in Ash, walked around Hartley (where my dad told me about my great-grandfather who died from being kicked in the testicles by a cow. Don't tell me not to laugh. It won't work. That is just funny. I give you permission to laugh also, dear reader), and showed me where he went to school in Gravesend. Whilst in Gravesend he told me a story of an old woman who lived on the corner by the quay: she used to shout at all the schoolkids walking past, and angrily shake a wooden spoon or various other kitchen implements at them. This is also funny. Though I was somewhat disappointed to learn that she did not throw poo or manky cats at them. Mad old women come in various forms though. It is important to remember that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've attended a Zumba class. Hmm. Yeah but no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: #d5a6bd; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;'We're kissing the lips of strangers&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i style="color: #d5a6bd;"&gt;we're hugging whoever next we meet&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #d5a6bd;"&gt; Oh life, I love you to my bones'&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Sadly said goodbye to the best Manager I've ever worked for. I am sad to see Carol leave. She was like a strong tower in the middle of a field of forlorn jesters and manic goats. I don't really know about the jesters or the goats actually....the tower just made my imagination spiral. I like the imagery however, so I'm going to keep this metaphor, however innacurate it might be. So there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: #d5a6bd; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;'Man, everything's just so simple&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #d5a6bd; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;when you're laughing until your face is sore&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #d5a6bd; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Oh life, I love you to my bones'&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spent the most wonderful two days in London. Rob Zombie (hell yeaaaah!), fantastic new friends, lunch and wine in Covent Garden (during which, James and I looked at each other and both said that this is what life should be like &lt;b&gt;all&lt;/b&gt; the time. And it's true. Because we're the best), chainsaw jugglers with pink pants, drinks on the Southbank, hotel room visitors (no, no hookers - I am referring to the MOUSE. Yes, the mouse), then back home to relaxy times and visits to the Fluff-monster's flat of doom and cats and japes. I felt free and my spirit was completely at ease for the first time in months. I am free when shackled to the road (thanks Frank). Sadly, it all had to finish and I ended up having a shitwanking day at work. Still. I don't care enough to winge about it so that's all you need to know. And no, I'm not in trouble! I 'have my head screwed on'. To which my father replied 'yes, it's just the wrong way round'. &lt;i&gt;Thanks&lt;/i&gt; Daddy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: #d5a6bd; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;'I've got punch lines and fisty-cuffs &lt;br /&gt;and tons and tons of love'&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Yeah, life. We like it. This is one of the songs that sums up my week (ironically it's by Wallis Bird who James randomly bumped into at the bar at the &lt;i&gt;Rob Zombie gig&lt;/i&gt;. Well, that was unexpected.).This is dedicated to all my lovely friends who made my week so fantastic. And to life. To life. &lt;span id="search" style="visibility: visible;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;L'Chaim!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="search" style="visibility: visible;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/DIVif6zvDIs/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DIVif6zvDIs&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DIVif6zvDIs&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-4910389860870898276?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4910389860870898276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=4910389860870898276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4910389860870898276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4910389860870898276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/02/titles-are-for-wimps-and-posers-and.html' title='Titles are for wimps and posers. And mice.'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-6429080217907617912</id><published>2011-02-04T12:29:00.002Z</published><updated>2011-02-04T12:29:40.534Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Lots of girls don't like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-6429080217907617912?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6429080217907617912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=6429080217907617912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6429080217907617912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6429080217907617912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/02/lots-of-girls-dont-like-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-6215827350235531543</id><published>2011-02-03T01:37:00.003Z</published><updated>2011-02-03T01:42:10.428Z</updated><title type='text'>'There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle: the other is as though everything is a miracle.'</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;Someone PLEASE give me a link for a website that sells decent heavy metal t-shirts for girls. I'm sick of modifying all my man-shaped ones. And I mean &lt;b&gt;decent&lt;/b&gt; heavy metal band t-shirts....as a girl it seems the only bands I am expected to like are Nightwish, Green Day, and fucking HIM. &lt;i&gt;Fuck. Off.&lt;/i&gt; We're not all dribbling Twilight and Kerrang junkies! SOME OF US ARE INTO THE GOOD STUFF YOU KNOW! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;I do not like Avenged Shitfold or Buttlick for my Valentine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt; All I want in life is a lovely King Diamond 'Abigail' t-shirt. Is that really too much to ask for? :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose it's about time for an actual update. I have a headache but seeing as you're all a bit special (do I mean that in a good or a bad way? That's for me to know, ahah!..) I'll recap my last couple of weeks. Just a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here you are:&lt;br /&gt;+ I have had uber-relaxy, family, Abigaily-birthday times in Reading. That weekend made me realise that my family life is exactly how I've always wanted it to be: fun, relaxing, and smiley. Then I did the same thing in Wolverhampton with other family-types and lovely friends, all of whom I miss muchly. Pubs. Dinners and lunches out. Lots of giggles. Crazy dogs. Awesome kids. Sarah-times (FINALLY! And much needed, might I add!). My little Benathon making me dress up as a sheep (in his aged-5 sheep costume! That's right): the things I do for that boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+ I attended the third Electric Circus with the best band line-up yet. Dogtown, Datura, and Cavalcade. I danced my little heart out, met some new cool people, and laughed a lot. I also got lost in the music of Cavalcade, as always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+ Obee's birthday party in Rochester: I haven't laughed that much in a long time. Much hilarity took place. Which I have on camera - that's right Natalie, I'm looking at you! Sexy cocktails. Getting to know the lovely Caroline a bit better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+ Smashing giggle-times with James and Zak. They're my homies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+ Trips all over London visiting some of my grandparents' properties and the exact spot where my Father proposed to my Mother. I never met my grandparents so it was all a bit interesting to get a glimpse into who they were and what their lives had been like. Also, I now want to live in a posh London townhouse. Claaaaassy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been a shallow entry. (Ooh err!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have some music: (please ignore the cheesey picture. I just have to put this piece of music out there. Yes.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://0.gvt0.com/vi/bR3N1yBEGbw/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bR3N1yBEGbw&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bR3N1yBEGbw&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-6215827350235531543?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6215827350235531543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=6215827350235531543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6215827350235531543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6215827350235531543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/02/there-are-only-two-ways-to-live-your.html' title='&apos;There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle: the other is as though everything is a miracle.&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-8578285879639012316</id><published>2011-01-18T00:57:00.003Z</published><updated>2011-01-18T01:01:44.157Z</updated><title type='text'>'The beast is loose in the streets of Bethlehem, the rats are in the corn'</title><content type='html'>For some reason somebody left a light bulb standing upright on the toilet cistern, and nobody in my house got the joke when I asked if the toilet had had a really good idea. :-(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Last week I did the joyously narcissistic thing of searching for songs with my name in them. I'm so vain, I probably think those songs are about me. Oh shut up, Joanna. So yeah, to be honest, hearing songs with my name in freaks me out a little bit (okay, almost to the point of mania in some cases - The one from Sweeney Todd, par example. Though I won't pretend the line 'I'll steal you' isn't a little bit...thrilling.*). I remember when I was a kid my parents bought me a personalised book with a story about me inside, and it freaked me out so much that I ripped it up in panic and disgust. Anyway, my search came to a definitive end once I got to a &lt;i&gt;horrible&lt;/i&gt; song by a band called Watashi-Wa (described as 'Christian Pop Punk' – oh, is there &lt;i&gt;any&lt;/i&gt;thing &lt;b&gt;worse&lt;/b&gt;?). I got so annoyed at the state of the human race and their feeble attempts to make music for the sake of it that I simply had to walk away from the whole enterprise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;On a different tone, so many people have died in the last two weeks. And so many of my friends are in pain or trouble. There's something bleak under the surface of this week's waters that I can't quite put my finger on. Not just for me and my peeps (Peeps? &lt;i&gt;Really?&lt;/i&gt;), but for human beans in general. Hmm.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, as a side note, I have absolutely no patience for &lt;i&gt;little&lt;/i&gt; boys with big egos. Don't think I haven't got my guard up. And don't think that I don't know exactly how to handle people like you. &lt;i&gt;Ooh, cryptic!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of Friday I shall be adventuring around the country. And it's about time: I've left it far too long this time. Any Place But Here - though I tend to feel like that if I'm anywhere for more than a couple of months. I need a job where I can travel the world. What a shame I'm so rubbish with languages!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Something to ponder on this week is a quote from Steven King's Pet Cemetery:&lt;i&gt; 'the soil of a man's heart is stonier'&lt;/i&gt;. I tend to agree, but not in a bitter feminist way. It isn't necessarily a bad thing. Maybe it's more to do with having more solid ground to walk over in today's society. Or maybe it refers to men having a different kind of strength to that of women. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;You don't get any pictures today because you've all been bad. BAD! Go to your rooms.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I'd just like to point out that that doesn't mean I want to be kidnapped. So don't go getting any ideas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-8578285879639012316?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/8578285879639012316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=8578285879639012316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/8578285879639012316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/8578285879639012316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/01/beast-is-loose-in-streets-of-bethlehem.html' title='&apos;The beast is loose in the streets of Bethlehem, the rats are in the corn&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-9160534693160697125</id><published>2011-01-06T21:39:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-01-06T21:40:02.774Z</updated><title type='text'>'They'll tell you black is really white, the moon is just the sun at night, and when you walk in golden halls you get to keep the gold that falls'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Having been out of the house working almost solidly for the best part of two days, I've been trying to relax since I got home. And what has finally made me relax, you say? Well, I shall tell you. I sat at the piano and I played it. When I can't get to my beautiful piano for a few days, life seems different somehow...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;It's a good job I can have music on when I'm doing things in the office at work, or I really would be the most depressed person you could ever meet. It really is like a drug. The best fucking drug in the world, man. A couple of hours without it and I'm hungry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;'Seek the core, the unique, the outstanding - shun the worthless and the mediocre.'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:xx-small;"&gt;- Frost (from Satyricon and 1349)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-9160534693160697125?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/9160534693160697125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=9160534693160697125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/9160534693160697125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/9160534693160697125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/01/theyll-tell-you-black-is-really-white.html' title='&apos;They&apos;ll tell you black is really white, the moon is just the sun at night, and when you walk in golden halls you get to keep the gold that falls&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-4154361378164615980</id><published>2011-01-04T11:52:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-01-04T14:11:52.309Z</updated><title type='text'>'It's something I have to do, I was there too: before everything else, I was like you.'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i style="color: rgb(213, 166, 189);"&gt;'They tell us Rock'n'roll is the devil's music. Well, let's say we &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style="color: rgb(213, 166, 189);"&gt;know that rock is the devil's music, and we know that it &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style="color: rgb(213, 166, 189);"&gt;is, for sure … &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style="color: rgb(213, 166, 189);"&gt;At least he fuckin' jams!  If it's a choice between eternal Hell and good tunes, and eternal  Heaven and New Kids on the Block … I'm gonna be surfin' on the  lake of fire, rockin' out.' - Bill Hicks&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roll up, roll up! The time has come for another tedious list of things I've done over the last couple of weeks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joanna has:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...had too much to drink at work Christmas outings. My blue hair was the shizzle though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...enjoyed time watching Ma'anit bake everyone Christmas goodies and drinking Bailey's coffee with Liat who came out with the quote of the day...nay, week...when she randomly started chuckling to herself and said 'Ma'anit, if you had your own chocolate factory, you'd be Willy Wanker!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...officially broken two laptops in the space of six months. Luckily, my friend Zachary is a blinkin' genie-arse and is constantly operating on my poor computers. Thank-you Doctor ZacharyradiatorfaceCathedralpantsMcGinty the third Esquire! Yeah...if you don't know my friends and me then that will mean nothing to you. Still, a bit of mystery is good for the soul: don't say I never do anything for all you lovely readers our there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...watched 'The Devil's Music'. What a bloody fantastic piece of work that was! Erica Spawn is such a compelling character, one couldn't help but become captivated with her and the story surrounding her. The documentary format may well have been done plenty of times but they made it work brilliantly. Some of the acting was a bit 'iffy' but the main actors had their parts down to an art and, just like all the classic films in the spooky genre (yes, that is now an official genre. Promise) there was an element of humour weaved into the entire thing. The film was sexy, atmospheric, and extremely watchable. I think one of the things I enjoyed most about it was that the characters were just like lots of real people I know. Very good, yes yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TSMENXANPoI/AAAAAAAAAFM/V7xTFpAaA80/s1600/free-horror-movie-premieres-this-friday-00-420-75.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TSMENXANPoI/AAAAAAAAAFM/V7xTFpAaA80/s320/free-horror-movie-premieres-this-friday-00-420-75.jpg" border="0" width="320" height="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:xx-small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:xx-small;"&gt;Phwoar!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; ...had well-needed family time. Time spent with my nephews and nephette is like water when my heart is running dry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...been visited by the wonderful Jo and her crazy kids. We stayed in a hotel and bothered the receptionists with stupid questions and constant requests for more tea-bags and milk. &lt;i&gt;Good times,&lt;/i&gt; as all the kids seem to be saying these days. You need your confidence back Jo, and I know you can do it. Those kids have a wild spirit like you do and that is no bad thing. I'm here with you every step of the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;...started to hear the nickname Calamity even from people I work for now. I went to the house of someone I give support to (for those of you who are unaware, I'm a support worker for people with learning disabilities...but if you didn't already know that you're clearly not stalking me very well so far) the other day and, in the space of four and a half hours, managed to pull one of his curtains/blinds down, knock a picture off the wall, and I pulled a chair over with my bag on the way out. Doh! Also, while I was there, I cut my finger on a pair of &lt;i&gt;safety&lt;/i&gt; scissors. I'm beginning to think it's me who needs support with my daily living...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;i style="color: white;"&gt; Life is like the snow: the more of it there is, the harder it is to manage; the more that comes down on you, the harder it is to walk in and wade through. But, by the gods, it's beautiful.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-4154361378164615980?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4154361378164615980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=4154361378164615980' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4154361378164615980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4154361378164615980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2011/01/its-something-i-have-to-do-i-was-there.html' title='&apos;It&apos;s something I have to do, I was there too: before everything else, I was like you.&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TSMENXANPoI/AAAAAAAAAFM/V7xTFpAaA80/s72-c/free-horror-movie-premieres-this-friday-00-420-75.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-7207476983782151982</id><published>2010-12-20T22:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-12-20T22:57:00.257Z</updated><title type='text'>'These sunless afternoons I can't find myself'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/2mtwZaRObP8/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2mtwZaRObP8&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2mtwZaRObP8&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-7207476983782151982?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7207476983782151982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=7207476983782151982' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7207476983782151982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7207476983782151982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/12/these-sunless-afternoons-i-cant-find.html' title='&apos;These sunless afternoons I can&apos;t find myself&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-1362422045642130240</id><published>2010-12-15T22:23:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-12-15T22:28:43.035Z</updated><title type='text'>'They don't fear the wolf, but the wild within'</title><content type='html'>So. In Medway, one has the opportunity to do a course in &lt;em&gt;'The Art of Accessorising - Accessorise your outfits: jewellery and handbags' &lt;/em&gt;but not to study A Levels. Gee thanks, Adult '&lt;em&gt;Education'&lt;/em&gt; Centre. Oh hello misanthropy, I wasn't aware you'd be joining us this-evening! But look - there you are! For anyone who would ever choose the above course over an A Level or &lt;em&gt;any&lt;/em&gt;thing that requires a modicum of intelligence or thought: die, die, and double die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last few days have seen Joanna in several different places. Par example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+ I have been lost in another world entirely whist watching Verdi Requiem in Cranbrook. James was there with his big bass drum. He wasn't playing in the concert - he just stood at the back with a drum he'd carted along himself...for fun. I must have enjoyed myself because when the show was over one of the violin players approached me and said 'your face when the Soprano hit her top C was an absolute &lt;em&gt;picture&lt;/em&gt;!'. Yes, my face gives away all. The concert was in St. Dunstan's Church. The soloists were marvelous. And the whole thing smelt particularly middle class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+ I have been to work &lt;em&gt;a lot.&lt;/em&gt; Someone I work with has just broken her leg so I'm helping to cover some shifts. Because I'm nice like that. (I've just noticed that I mentioned the very same thing in my previous post but I'm not going to re-word this or change it because that fact that I've written it twice should give you a good idea of how forgetful and generally pointless my brain can be! Also, I can't actually be bothered.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+ I have been to Covent Garden and 'done lunch' Italian stylie, and then to a Christmas Sing-A-Long at the Royal Albert Hall. This trip was for work so it wasn't all fun and games. I was lucky enough to have done the trip with Kay though who is fantabulous and had me in constant giggles throughout the day. One of my favourite quotes of the day (ooh, we haven't done that in a while, have we?!) was during 'We Three Kings of Orient Are' when Kay sang the line 'Frankinscense to offer have I' and then turned to me and uttered 'or &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; I?'. Now, I do not like Christmas songs in general and nothing was really going to top the Verdi Req' from the night before. There was a particular moment during the show when I smiled to myself and realised the confirmation that this wasn't reeeeaaaally 'my kind of thing', and that moment was when I caught myself looking around the stalls - during a watered down version of 'Winter Wonderland' sung by a woman with a large bottom and even larger stage-school bad habits and techniques to her voice - and thinking &lt;em&gt;'...I wonder what the maximum capacity of this venue is...'&lt;/em&gt;. And may the gods bless those poor session musicians who have to work through that crap every night. We also saw the most glorious waste of energy: the Oxford Street Christmas lights. Okay, okay, it was &lt;em&gt;quite&lt;/em&gt; pretty I suppose ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; CLEAR: both" class="separator"&gt;&lt;a style="MARGIN-LEFT: 1em; MARGIN-RIGHT: 1em" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TQk-4VZKBwI/AAAAAAAAAFE/zMcRXp8IFLU/s1600/P121210_15.48_%255B01%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TQk-4VZKBwI/AAAAAAAAAFE/zMcRXp8IFLU/s320/P121210_15.48_%255B01%255D.jpg" width="320" height="240" n4="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+ I have also been to memory-land with Sonata Arctica when they randomly popped up on my playlist and, becoming captured by the sweet melodies and adorably bad use of the English language, I listened to almost every album of theirs I own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One place I have not been to however, is the land of noddington. To bedfordshire. And oh, how I miss it dreadfully....I'm beginning to sound more and more like an Enid Blyton character....I'd better watch that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#d5a6bd;"&gt;'Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#d5a6bd;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#d5a6bd;"&gt;That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#d5a6bd;"&gt;And then is heard no more. It is a tale &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#d5a6bd;"&gt;Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#d5a6bd;"&gt;Signifying nothing.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-1362422045642130240?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1362422045642130240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=1362422045642130240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1362422045642130240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1362422045642130240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/12/they-dont-fear-wolf-but-wild-within.html' title='&apos;They don&apos;t fear the wolf, but the wild within&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TQk-4VZKBwI/AAAAAAAAAFE/zMcRXp8IFLU/s72-c/P121210_15.48_%255B01%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-4598515708721610628</id><published>2010-12-13T11:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-12-13T11:50:38.494Z</updated><title type='text'>'Away, and mock the time with fairest show'</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;'...Art thou afeard&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;To be the same in thine own act and valour &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And live a coward in thine own esteem, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Like the poor cat i' the adage?'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-4598515708721610628?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4598515708721610628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=4598515708721610628' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4598515708721610628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4598515708721610628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/12/away-and-mock-time-with-fairest-show.html' title='&apos;Away, and mock the time with fairest show&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5401189957520330410</id><published>2010-12-10T14:59:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-12-10T15:01:07.697Z</updated><title type='text'>Change or accept. Just don't sit in the middle complaining.</title><content type='html'>Oh hello there random song from Sweeney Todd - why&amp;nbsp;have you suddenly appeared in my head? And why will you not leave?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to take someone to hospital last week and I spent far too long chuckling about the fact that Medway Maritime Hospital has a 'Penguin Assessment Unit'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone at work has broken her leg and so we're all scuttling around trying to cover her shifts. Finding a balance between all the important things in life can be difficult but if you love the things in your life it's all worth it. And if the things in your life love you back, they understand...yes, I'm half asleep and talking gibberish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gibberish is a good word. I should use it more in everyday sentences. Along with nincompoop, flabbergasted,&amp;nbsp;and sesquipedalian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Becca's birthday party was a classic night as always - even if she got so drunk that&amp;nbsp;she thought she was having a stroke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to take this moment to send out the following message into the ether: Thank you Chris Morris for 'Four Lions'. Just&amp;nbsp;thank you. Right in the face.&amp;nbsp;There was much hearty&amp;nbsp;laughter (&lt;em&gt;'Spark plugs! Jews invented spark plugs to control global traffic.'&lt;/em&gt;); there were&amp;nbsp;tears; there were gut-wrenching moments of empathy and agony, especially for the families of the characters (&lt;em&gt;'I'm taking my team up to the top floor now. I'll see you up there.'&lt;/em&gt;);&amp;nbsp;there were knowing nods at the multitude of satirical references and&amp;nbsp;painful truths that cleverly weaved through the entire thing (&lt;em&gt;'These are real bad times, bro. Islam is cracking up. We got women talking back. We got people playing &lt;u&gt;stringed&lt;/u&gt; instruments. It's the end of days!'&lt;/em&gt;). The characters were &lt;em&gt;beautifully&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;acted and the plot perfectly conveyed the messages intended&amp;nbsp;by the filmmakers. ..I'm gushing a bit. And you can tell I used to be an English literature student by the amount of quotes used to back up my points. I'm so transparent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TQI_YZUZL_I/AAAAAAAAAFA/VEBmkdwm85o/s1600/101105_four_lions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TQI_YZUZL_I/AAAAAAAAAFA/VEBmkdwm85o/s320/101105_four_lions.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also...everyone hates&amp;nbsp;'How Not To Live Your Life'...from which I concur that everyone is stupid.&amp;nbsp;How difficult is it to pick up on the subtle humours and sarcasms? The glitter of personality that&amp;nbsp;sparkles throughout the dialogue?&amp;nbsp;That program is not as one-dimensional as everyone claims or wants it to be. So there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that just about concludes today's inane&amp;nbsp;ramblings. Congratulations if you made it this far! Here: have a biscuit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5401189957520330410?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5401189957520330410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5401189957520330410' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5401189957520330410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5401189957520330410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/12/change-or-accept-just-dont-sit-in.html' title='Change or accept. Just don&apos;t sit in the middle complaining.'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TQI_YZUZL_I/AAAAAAAAAFA/VEBmkdwm85o/s72-c/101105_four_lions.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-1433749392331473184</id><published>2010-12-02T17:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-12-02T17:15:14.758Z</updated><title type='text'>More people smile at each other when they're trying to walk in snow..</title><content type='html'>..which&amp;nbsp;to me seems the&amp;nbsp;perfect little&amp;nbsp;example of&amp;nbsp;how the&amp;nbsp;human race form tighter communities when they have something to fight against or struggle through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I'm not struggling; I bloody love this weather! More snow plskthx.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TPfTqFwvTpI/AAAAAAAAAEs/xvj1i2kpiNk/s1600/snow+2+Dec+2010+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="303" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TPfTqFwvTpI/AAAAAAAAAEs/xvj1i2kpiNk/s320/snow+2+Dec+2010+002.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Wigmore Park this very morn'!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-1433749392331473184?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1433749392331473184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=1433749392331473184' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1433749392331473184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1433749392331473184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/12/more-people-smile-at-each-other-when.html' title='More people smile at each other when they&apos;re trying to walk in snow..'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TPfTqFwvTpI/AAAAAAAAAEs/xvj1i2kpiNk/s72-c/snow+2+Dec+2010+002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-4838371964416234718</id><published>2010-12-01T22:45:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-12-01T22:47:22.430Z</updated><title type='text'>Tales from a struggling support worker, nursery nurse, and writer.</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;My sister Caroline:&lt;/em&gt; 'Can you save all your poetry please? So that when you die an old lady at 87 (random) we can all sell your work and make a fortune?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charming! Also, I see a &lt;em&gt;slight&lt;/em&gt; technical problem there, dear sister...you'll be 94 at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as a side note, I'd quite like to make the fortune from them myself before that! Who wants to be my agent and publish my stories and poems for free? Anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bollocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The universe:&lt;/em&gt; 'Maybe you should actually start sending some of your work off to people again. That might help, you actual twat!'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-4838371964416234718?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4838371964416234718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=4838371964416234718' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4838371964416234718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4838371964416234718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/12/tales-from-struggling-support-worker.html' title='Tales from a struggling support worker, nursery nurse, and writer.'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-9094401642248533517</id><published>2010-11-20T20:05:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-11-21T00:34:37.931Z</updated><title type='text'>'Life, like poker, has an element of risk. It shouldn't be avoided. It should be faced.'</title><content type='html'>Blimey! An update!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I begin today's meeting by proclaiming the next statement as truthings:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is pathetic when couples get joint Facebook accounts and the like. By all means stand together against hardships and the rest of the world blah blah, but when you represent the TWO of you as ONE thing/entity/being/whatever it all gets a bit gay and scary. Be your damn selves ffs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate feeling like I have to think carefully about every little thing I write in my own blog. And actually...I'm not doing that from now on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The first film in &lt;em&gt;ages&lt;/em&gt; that has actually had a relatively deep affect on me freaky-wise. It's like a nightmare that spirals into darker and darker corners of the mind. The lack of music was extremely effective, instead there are deep throbbing noises and screeches (like the sounds of madness) and the screams of the lead character...oh, the screams - they cut right through you. A fantastic film. Also, lol at the Hitchhiker's first appearance 'I have this knife!' although I feel sorry for him and want to look after him. Until...ya know...we meet him later on in the film. Even I'm not quite that understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; CLEAR: both" class="separator"&gt;&lt;a style="MARGIN-LEFT: 1em; MARGIN-RIGHT: 1em" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TOgiklUsPiI/AAAAAAAAAEo/2fL_48UMKe4/s1600/TheHitchiker.jpg" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TOgiklUsPiI/AAAAAAAAAEo/2fL_48UMKe4/s1600/TheHitchiker.jpg" ox="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; CLEAR: both" class="separator"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:xx-small;"&gt;Here he is. And he has this knife. Which is a good knife. Apparently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what else have I been doing for the past two and a half weeks? I shall tell you, yes I shall. I've had lovely times at Halloween parties (though my last-minute elf costume didn't go down too well...everyone just thought I had a shit witch's costume on - didn't any of you ever see LotR? Jeeeeeeez! :P), got to know Stef and Dave a bit better (yay, smashing people indeed!), been to Bluewater (or the set of Hollyoaks - the distinction can be somewhat blurred at times), waited in a hospital with someone for ages and listened to the stressy man next to us get more and more irrate until they gave in and let him in before us - seriously, accidentally stepped in sick (Joanna, you really didn't need to clarify that was an accident...), received some of the best birthday gifts ever; including surprise fairy dresses and the most awesome home-made cake/sweetie-castle known to the living world - thank you Zak and James!!! I'm sure there's more to tell but none more shall be told because that list is &lt;em&gt;quite&lt;/em&gt; long enough, thank you very much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kickboxing is awesome. I never thought I'd be interested in anything to do with Martial Arts...at least not enough to go somewhere each week to do it or buy things to help me train. &lt;em&gt;Train.&lt;/em&gt; Hark at me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting on a bus full of teenagers in all-too-familiar school uniforms can make you think...I still didn't feel like I'd have anything to say to them or they'd have anything to say to me. I felt the same way as I would have done during my teens when faced with that situation - not fear, not apprehension...just general...detachment from the human race. (I'd put my headphones in my ears and listen to something amazing instead of listening to nonsense about boys and make-up). And then I noticed this one guy sitting at the front of the bus. He was a big guy and had crutches and everyone had their backs to him. He looked pretty calm and collected and just reached up and drew a Slipknot 'S' in the condensation of the window. I felt proud. The other kids were all pretty much ignoring him because he was not like the rest of them. And then I realised that I had it all wrong at school: Instead of trying to understand why I wasn't like everybody else, I needed to accept why they weren't like me. Which is when I found peace really. Socially, anyway. Peace in general can be a deadly, destructive place to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's quite enough rambling for the day, Joanna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEHOLD: A quote within a quote...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#8e7cc3;"&gt;'Derek says it's always good to end a paper with a quote. He says someone else has already said it best. So if you can't top it, steal from them and go out strong. So I picked a guy I thought you'd like. 'We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.' '&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-9094401642248533517?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/9094401642248533517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=9094401642248533517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/9094401642248533517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/9094401642248533517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/11/life-like-poker-has-element-of-risk-it.html' title='&apos;Life, like poker, has an element of risk. It shouldn&apos;t be avoided. It should be faced.&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TOgiklUsPiI/AAAAAAAAAEo/2fL_48UMKe4/s72-c/TheHitchiker.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5508079697527086767</id><published>2010-10-29T19:11:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-29T22:41:20.541+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear universe...</title><content type='html'>I would like to see Ministry live please. I do not care how impossible this is. Also, Jethro Tull in their original line up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Just send me back in time for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours, Joanna xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5508079697527086767?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5508079697527086767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5508079697527086767' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5508079697527086767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5508079697527086767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/10/dear-universe.html' title='Dear universe...'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-2487233589586022862</id><published>2010-10-29T13:41:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-29T14:57:42.373+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'If life is a radio, turn up to ten!'</title><content type='html'>Well, you know you've been to a good gig when you wake up the next morning with an aching neck and beer in your hair. It's so refreshing to go to gigs with girls who actually bloody enjoy themselves and aren't afraid to just &lt;em&gt;get into it&lt;/em&gt;. I mainly go to the heavier gigs with guys and we laugh at the girls standing around stifly, posing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;\m/ Here's to Bug and Alex for being proper metal fans and not just along for the ride or the fashion. \m/&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Korpiklaani last night (and I was still the shortest person there even with my old new rocks on, tsk!), and last week was the Electric Circus II. Cavalcade blew every other Medway band out of the water as usual. I was also lucky enough to go along to their rehearsal a few days before the gig and observe their dynamic and how beautifully they bring all their elements, talents, and influences together to make their music. Something a bit wonderful happens when they all get behind their own little stations and start playing. I wish I had taken my sketch pad along with me and I might do that for their next gig, although I am pretty sure I will just get too excited and abandon the idea to dancing and emmersing myself in the bubble of their sound instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would life be without music?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also this week I have...been insulted by a ridiculously shallow dress-maker, tripped over several times in front of crowds of people (what is new?), spent too much money on CDs, had fun and giggles and lunch in Canterbury, enjoyed chill-out times with friends and sweeties and scary movies, ordered Rob Zombie tickets (YES! *punches the air*), had a little catch-up with Maffoo, and completely forgotten that it's my birthday in two weeks: I really should start arranging things for my birthdays. One day I will have a big party just for me and it will be fabulous and there with be much rejoicing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-2487233589586022862?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2487233589586022862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=2487233589586022862' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2487233589586022862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2487233589586022862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/10/if-life-is-radio-turn-up-to-ten.html' title='&apos;If life is a radio, turn up to ten!&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-6634527142453401379</id><published>2010-10-10T21:04:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T21:13:28.741+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'You're just an empty cage if you kill the bird...'</title><content type='html'>Chest infections will not beat me. Oh no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As many of you know I've been on a bit of a horror kick, film-wise. For those of you who don't, I've been testing my squeemishness and jumpiness by torturing myself with any movies considered freaky or scary. I have surprised myself and become what can only be described as a 'fan'. We all know I've always been drawn to the darker parts of life but the scary movie thing was something I could never quite crack. And here it is: all cracked and gooey and shivering, begging me for mercy. *evil laughter*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have recently watched 'Night of the Living Dead'. Please note that I am well aware this film is nothing shocking or even scary to most people - &lt;em&gt;well&lt;/em&gt; aware after seeing Cannibal Holocaust as mentioned in previous entries! Poor monkey. I must say the fact that a black man as the capable hero of the film must have been pretty controversial and ground-breaking when it was made in 60s America. The movie couldn't have done much for feminism though - the female characters could only be described as &lt;strong&gt;pathetic&lt;/strong&gt;. I didn't find myself laughing so much at this movie as I have done with other 'old classics' I've seen so far: it is still a bit creepy and the fact it's in black and white adds to the atmosphere somewhat. Also, I predicted, and hoped for, the ending it had. It gave the whole thing a push, a kick, an impact. Which got me wondering if the film was actually more intentionally political than I had initially thought. Though I'm probably looking too deeply into it. Not everything is symbolism Joanna! Get over it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the concept of zombies has captured our modern imaginations so much is because...zombies are just humans without all of the qualities we would describe as 'human': compassion, empathy, etc. Which fits into how machinistic (that's not a word, but I've just decided it is - any complaints about this should be sent to me via email or other such communication tools) our lives have become what with modern warfare being so mechanical and impersonal, fighting each other from distances with guns and bullets and documents. We build tall stone prisons to work in, we talk to each other through handsets and keyboards and plastic and metal. We're becoming so far removed from nobility and humility in our interractions. We're becoming so far removed from each other...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c27ba0;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;'Machinery is aggressive. The weaver becomes a web, the machinist a machine.' &lt;span style="font-size:xx-small;"&gt;Ralph Waldo Emerson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also watched Ichi the Killer but I have a lot to say on that as well, so I will bore you with that some other time. Suffice it to say that it was pretty damn &lt;em&gt;awesome&lt;/em&gt;. And if I was a man, I'd dress like Kakihara every day, yes I would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish my friends were happy all the time. I wish everyone was happy all the time. But then I suppose we'd all be bloody boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no pictures in this entry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c27ba0;"&gt;'I think it's a big turn on to walk down the street and kick little kids.' &lt;span style="font-size:xx-small;"&gt;- Burzum, 1992. - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:small;"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-6634527142453401379?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6634527142453401379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=6634527142453401379' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6634527142453401379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6634527142453401379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/10/chest-infections-will-not-beat-me.html' title='&apos;You&apos;re just an empty cage if you kill the bird...&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-3062312094822340809</id><published>2010-10-10T20:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T20:51:31.026+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a non-title</title><content type='html'>If you do not find yourself overcome with the urge to click your fingers to this song, you are dead to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gTONQNWeGZo?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_GB"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gTONQNWeGZo?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_GB" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, please note the line &lt;em&gt;'now we go steady to the pictures, I always get chocolate stains on my pants'&lt;/em&gt;. This is funny if you're English...or if you're me. I don't know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-3062312094822340809?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3062312094822340809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=3062312094822340809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3062312094822340809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3062312094822340809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-am-non-title.html' title='I am a non-title'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-2548631790833936061</id><published>2010-10-02T12:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-02T12:59:04.655+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I heart my mum</title><content type='html'>Mum (looking up from her Sudoku at random and frowning): 'What I don't like about squirrels is the way they cross the road.'&lt;br /&gt;Me: 'What?!'&lt;br /&gt;Mum: '&lt;i&gt;Wellllllllllll&lt;/i&gt;...they don't do it properly.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-2548631790833936061?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2548631790833936061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=2548631790833936061' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2548631790833936061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2548631790833936061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-heart-my-mum.html' title='I heart my mum'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-9074738619700999841</id><published>2010-10-01T12:24:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-02T02:57:35.248+01:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a lonely planet joy</title><content type='html'>Last night at work after everyone was in bed, I went outside for a  late-night cigarette. I sat there peacefully, listening to Hindermith and  looking up at a sky full of twinkly stars and dark corners, when a shooting star (sorry Toby, &lt;i&gt;meteor&lt;/i&gt;,  hehe!) waved at me and swept itself from one edge of the sky to the other. It  was massive and decorated with fire. I was open-mouthed at this point and then I saw &lt;i&gt;another&lt;/i&gt; one that actually seemed to &lt;u&gt;weave&lt;/u&gt;  its way through the stars! And no, it wasn't a plane. T'was definitely a  starry-type thing. Yes. It's nice when the sky speaks to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the last two weeks I have been to some little dinner parties, attented my parents' 40th wedding anniversary garden party and (abominable) pub dinner - '...can I just take this moment to draw your attention to my Father's face?', &lt;b&gt;almost&lt;/b&gt; had measles, giggled, felt like I'm shit at my job, felt like I'm &lt;i&gt;good&lt;/i&gt; at my job, not saved any money like I promised myself I would (again), watched Evil Dead (okay, I'm really getting into this horror malarkey now: I thoroughly enjoyed the film AND now have the incredible urge to paint my face like Linda (post-possession) every time I put my make-up on, listened to some fantabulous moo-sic, and so on and so forth and whatnot, etc. etc., ad infinitum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/the-evil-dead-bruce-campbell-sam-raimi-horror-screenshot-linda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="174" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/the-evil-dead-bruce-campbell-sam-raimi-horror-screenshot-linda.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;What a stunner&lt;/b&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;One day I might dedicate an entire blog post to everything that's wrong with Twilight. But I'm not sure I could find the time.&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: #c27ba0; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;'...while we're at it, I'm sick of religious people forcing their  children to define themselves by their parents' faith. A four year old  is no more a Christian than he is a member of the Postal Worker's  Union!' - Marcus Brigstock&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-9074738619700999841?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/9074738619700999841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=9074738619700999841' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/9074738619700999841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/9074738619700999841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/10/its-lonely-planet-joy.html' title='It&apos;s a lonely planet joy'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-1695918200083316418</id><published>2010-09-24T20:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T20:07:32.246+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>' "I'm going to tell you a story," said Zedka. "A powerful wizard, who wanted to destroy an entire kingdom, placed a magic potion in the well from which all the inhabitants drank. Whoever drank that water would go mad. The following morning, the whole population drank from the well and they all went mad, apart from the king and his family, who had a well set aside for them alone, and which the magician had not managed to poison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The king was worried and tried to control the population by issuing a series of edicts governing security and public health. The policemen and inspectors, however, had also drunk the poisoned water and they thought the king's decisions were absurd and resolved to take no notice of them. When the inhabitants of the kingdom heard these decrees, they became convinced that the king had gone mad and was now giving nonsensical orders. They marched on the castle and called for his abdication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In despair, the king prepared to step down from the throne, but the queen stopped him, saying: 'Let us go and drink from the communal well. Then, we will be the same as them.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was what they did: the king and the queen drank the water of madness and immediately began talking nonsense. Their subjects repented at once; now that the king was displaying such wisdom, why not allow him to continue ruling the country?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The country continued to live in peace, although its inhabitants behaved very differently from those of its neighbours. And the king was able to govern until the end of his days."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..."Do you know what exists out there?"&lt;br /&gt;"People who have all drunk from the same well."&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;"Exactly," said Zedka. "They think they're normal, because they all do the same thing. Well, I'm going to pretend that I have drunk from the same well as them."&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;"I already did that, and that's precisely my problem..."&lt;/i&gt; '&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt; - from 'Veronika Decides to Die' by Paulo Coelho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-1695918200083316418?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1695918200083316418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=1695918200083316418' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1695918200083316418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1695918200083316418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/09/im-going-to-tell-you-story-said-zedka.html' title=''/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-1658234002595558127</id><published>2010-09-15T17:06:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T17:17:03.717+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Over the course of Autumns</title><content type='html'>Joanna is on somewhat of a high at the moment. She is enjoying this. It does, however, mean that she can no longer speak in the 'first person'. She is fine with this. She is now wondering if this entire entry is going to be as boring at this first sentence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, we'll see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, over the past couple of weeks I've been concentrating (at work), trying to behave myself (at work), making mistakes with money (at work...oopsie!), celebrating Rosh Hashana with some Jewish buddies of mine (it was a bit like a Pagan ceremony what with the prayer and the eating of certain things at certain times, etc. Plus, apples dipped in honey = win), giving up her spare room to Wolverhampton wanderers, dancing &lt;i&gt;and crying&lt;/i&gt; to Cavalcade (oh boys...you have brought the local music scene to life &amp;lt;3), making posters for musical eventings, decorating cakes for anniversaries, watching brass bands in smarmy little churches - 'niiiiice bit of Grieg!' ;),  and re-writing Shakespeare choruses for &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;filthy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; friends! Oh, and laughing ridiculously with the most awesome people in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only now, at my riiiipe old age, have the confidence (or the apathy) to just &lt;b&gt;be&lt;/b&gt; creative and put my stuff out there. I partly have Sarah to thank for all her help with the flower arrangements I did for people when I lived in the Land of Wolves. Autumn comes alive this week, and it brings with it (as always) a part of life I connect with strongly. The Gods are most alive for me during the Winter and the Summer months, but over the course of Autumns things are more...(for want of a better noun - as always when speaking of such things) &lt;i&gt;spirit&lt;/i&gt; based. However, I would like to get one thing straight - I am not a big hippie. Nor am I a &lt;i&gt;Wiccan&lt;/i&gt;*. I connect to the old ways. That is perhaps the best way to describe things. As someone I knew long ago once said - 'Pagan, not pussy'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop rambling and finish prettifying that cake, you slag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay! &lt;i&gt;Jeeeesus...!&lt;/i&gt; Wait, people should see this first - &lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/47352_10150246868195013_739070012_14520790_4777824_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Clickedy&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  And this - &lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/61245_10150246868255013_739070012_14520793_1117425_n.jpg"&gt;click&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(180, 167, 214); text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;The bards descend the waves of ancient seas&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(180, 167, 214); text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;and poets' breath to decorate our trees&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;*grrrrrr&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-1658234002595558127?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1658234002595558127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=1658234002595558127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1658234002595558127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1658234002595558127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/09/over-course-of-autumns.html' title='Over the course of Autumns'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-4799647766523066787</id><published>2010-09-12T06:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T06:58:18.467+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A solitary dancer...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GDVoajxYdWI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_GB"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GDVoajxYdWI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_GB" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-4799647766523066787?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4799647766523066787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=4799647766523066787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4799647766523066787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4799647766523066787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/09/solitary-dancer.html' title='A solitary dancer...'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-2009058498525470208</id><published>2010-09-05T12:49:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T12:50:32.786+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'...driven by the irony that only being shackled to the road could ever I be free...'</title><content type='html'>Well my only full weekend off this month has been pretty much pooed on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now what I need is a solution. No point in dwelling on it, however perturbed I may be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for a plan. Though all I want is to pack myself off to somewhere new already. And this is not me running away - this is my constant inner itch to do something new every single day, to drink in the world, to feel free...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: #d5a6bd; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;'Ever since my childhood I've been scared, I've been afraid&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #d5a6bd; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;of being trapped by circumstance, of staying in one place&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #d5a6bd; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;and so I always keep a small bag full of clothes carefully stored&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;somewhere secret, somewhere safe, somewhere close to the door. '&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span id="main" style="color: #d5a6bd; visibility: visible;"&gt;&lt;span id="search" style="visibility: visible;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-2009058498525470208?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2009058498525470208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=2009058498525470208' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2009058498525470208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2009058498525470208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/09/driven-by-irony-that-only-being.html' title='&apos;...driven by the irony that only being shackled to the road could ever I be free...&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-7886799224174422106</id><published>2010-08-19T23:18:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T00:00:21.825+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'I have swam the lake of flames, walked forbidden tracks'</title><content type='html'>Just thought you all should know that:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...the changing rooms in Sainsbury's smell of wee :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...being a builder/road workman/&lt;i&gt;Tesco delivery man&lt;/i&gt; does not give you the earthly right to shout lude comments at anything with boobies. You &lt;b&gt;pricks&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...giant, furry, Dr. Marten-wearing arachnids exist and they are &lt;i&gt;everywhere&lt;/i&gt;. BEWARE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I started smoking when I was a teenager because I wanted to sing like Courtney Love. Thanks Ma'anit for reminding me of this &lt;strike&gt;wonderful&lt;/strike&gt; weird little piece of my past. Though nobody seems to be able to remind me of why exactly I wanted to sing like Courtney Love in the first place. And I cannot fathom it to this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I already have that divine thrust (lol) of wanderlust again. Where should I randomly move to once I've been in this job for a while? And why can I not stay in one place for more than a few months?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my buddy, my pal James is back from the Greasey-land and this makes Joanna a happy girl. When I was in my early twenties I figured I'd already made all my best friends for life but I was wrong - over the past two years Sarah, Jo, and James have become (for fear of sounding like an Enid Blyton character) &lt;i&gt;firm friends&lt;/i&gt;. Never underestimate the power of evolving and personal progression. I am truly blessed to have such wonderful people in my life who I click with on levels I never even thought possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go on but I don't want to gush. &lt;span style="font-size:xx-small;"&gt;Err, that sounds gross.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My job starts on Monday. It's all a bit exciting. I've missed looking after people, it's  one of the reasons I'm here and I thrive on it. I will have to stay organised if I want to fit everything I do now (and more because money will permit this) around work. I need a P.A. ...any takers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, this entry has included lots of question marks. You don't need a psychology degree to work that one out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This day in Joanna's life is dedicated to Mr. Stewart Copeland for being the main reason I blew all my inheritance money on a drum kit when I was fifteen. And for getting my feet (and legs, &lt;i&gt;and&lt;/i&gt; hands) tapping stupidly and involuntarily to this very day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TG2r8PXP9BI/AAAAAAAAAEc/Oho_aR1oQY0/s1600/stewart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TG2r8PXP9BI/AAAAAAAAAEc/Oho_aR1oQY0/s320/stewart.jpg" width="320" border="0" height="312" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-7886799224174422106?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7886799224174422106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=7886799224174422106' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7886799224174422106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7886799224174422106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-have-swam-lake-of-flames-walked.html' title='&apos;I have swam the lake of flames, walked forbidden tracks&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TG2r8PXP9BI/AAAAAAAAAEc/Oho_aR1oQY0/s72-c/stewart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-2386487372466939709</id><published>2010-08-18T17:41:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T20:06:49.885+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Only your real friends will tell you when your face is dirty'</title><content type='html'>Sometimes people don't like my honesty. That is fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will remain always true to my path and to what I feel is right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though it is a shame. We had a blast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-2386487372466939709?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2386487372466939709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=2386487372466939709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2386487372466939709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2386487372466939709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/08/only-your-real-friends-will-tell-you.html' title='&apos;Only your real friends will tell you when your face is dirty&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-7645424330979655338</id><published>2010-08-16T01:30:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T00:04:36.020+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, Mr. Keats...</title><content type='html'>'Therefore, 'tis with full happiness that I&lt;br /&gt;Will trace the story of Endymion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The very music of the name has gone&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Into my being,&lt;/i&gt; and each pleasant scene&lt;br /&gt;Is growing fresh before me as the green&lt;br /&gt;Of our own valleys: so I will begin&lt;br /&gt;Now while I cannot hear the city's din;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Now while the early budders are just new,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;And run in mazes of the youngest hue&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;About old forests;&lt;/i&gt; while the willow trails&lt;br /&gt;Its delicate amber; and the dairy pails&lt;br /&gt;Bring home increase of milk...'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Italics&lt;/i&gt; = full-on shudder moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would be my life without such utterly delicious words?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-7645424330979655338?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7645424330979655338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=7645424330979655338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7645424330979655338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7645424330979655338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/08/oh-mr-keats.html' title='Oh, Mr. Keats...'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-3570729910517651329</id><published>2010-08-13T10:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-13T10:40:10.418+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'In the dark we're the same, in the concept of time we're like a grain in the sand'</title><content type='html'>The highlight of my Wednesday night was seeing an old man with a t-shirt that had the big MacDonalds 'M' on it, and the words 'McShit' written over the top. Oh, and Ma'anit pretending to be a ghost resulting in my screaming loudly in the beer garden. *embarrassed*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I went to Rochester with my awesome 'brother' Lee and we met Jason and Graham there. I did something I don't usually do but you know what? I'm just having fun and rolling with life - why the bloody hell not? And no, I didn't sleep with anyone before you assume that, you naughty readers you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to get moving! Toodley pip!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-3570729910517651329?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3570729910517651329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=3570729910517651329' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3570729910517651329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3570729910517651329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/08/in-dark-were-same-in-concept-of-time.html' title='&apos;In the dark we&apos;re the same, in the concept of time we&apos;re like a grain in the sand&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5225675569069394299</id><published>2010-08-11T14:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T14:12:03.524+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sanctuary</title><content type='html'>My land is bare of chattering folk;&lt;br /&gt;The clouds are low along the ridges,&lt;br /&gt;And sweet's the air with curly smoke&lt;br /&gt;From all my burning bridges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;by Dorothy Parker&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5225675569069394299?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5225675569069394299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5225675569069394299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5225675569069394299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5225675569069394299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/08/sanctuary.html' title='Sanctuary'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-1520263269738541593</id><published>2010-08-11T13:41:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T13:47:08.237+01:00</updated><title type='text'>My dreams remain the same</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Over the past week of Joanna's life, she has been...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...to Gravesend and tried on every single bridesmaid dress in the shop. Then ended up choosing the most expensive one without realising it...typical! Sorry Becca. Then we spent all day drinking wine and Celtic Warriors (&lt;i&gt;phwoar!&lt;/i&gt;). Then Natalie and I went to the Barge. It's all a bit of a blur frankly. But I know I enjoyed myself! I provided the quote of that night by walking up to a group of Ma'anit's friends and trying desperately to look sober. Which seemed to be working until I said 'I'm fiiiine! I'm not &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; drunk...*hiccup*' Bastard diaphragm!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;...disinfecting all the musical instruments in her house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Mum: Why are you disinfecting your tin-whistle?&lt;br /&gt;Joanna: Uh....because James kinda...put it up his nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...looking after my nephew and nephette, Tom and Abbie-ghoul! Tom got attacked by an evil swing in the park, and Abbie and I painted our faces like lunatics. A fantastic day indeed. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...to The Nightmare Theatre. Lots of laughter, chatting, Newcastle Brown (hell yeah!), new friends, long-lost friends. T'was the fun indeed. Cavalcade played - their sound is too big, too vast for Medway. They need a stage out in space so the whole world can look up at them. Their sound is unique. Dark, sometimes almost bleak, but with gorgeous ribbons of colour flowing and twisting through the sound. Lovely lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...having tomato-ketchup and sock fights. Yeah, don't ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...wondering about how to end a blog post in an interesting way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;'And yet, people still turn to Jesus. You will notice though that the  kind of people who turn to Jesus &lt;i&gt;tend&lt;/i&gt; to be the sort of people who  haven't done that well with everybody else.' - &lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Dylan Moran&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-1520263269738541593?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1520263269738541593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=1520263269738541593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1520263269738541593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1520263269738541593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/08/my-dreams-remain-same.html' title='My dreams remain the same'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-7411536232317310923</id><published>2010-08-03T16:59:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T22:46:59.570+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Don't stand, don't stand so, don't stand so close to me!' (I might break you)</title><content type='html'>Joanna has well and truly lived up to her nickname of Calamity today. For those of you who are interested (and if you're not, then why, pray tell, are you still reading this? I won't have your sort round here!), I gained said nickname about 7 years ago when I first visited Becca's parent's house. I'd only been there for about ten minutes and I broke this family heirloom vase thingimajig. Then the next time I visted, I broke a plate. This was also around the time that I broke my boyfriend-at-the-time's prized glass stein from Germany. It was massive and he loved it to bits. &lt;span style="font-size:xx-small;"&gt;And I dropped it to bits.&lt;/span&gt; Sorry! When Becca and Obee had their flatwarming party, they put yellow and black hazard tape over their furniture because they knew I was coming. Cheers guys. &lt;i&gt;Hilarious. &lt;/i&gt;;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's the story. And I've been a walking disaster ever since. So your lesson of the day is: DO NOT TRUST JOANNA WITH ANYTHING DELICATE OR PRECIOUS TO YOU. IT WILL BE BROKEN! I don't seem to have broken anyone's baby yet though. So that's alright. Though the odds are pretty high - quite a few of my friends have kids. I'll keep you posted...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-7411536232317310923?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7411536232317310923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=7411536232317310923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7411536232317310923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7411536232317310923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/08/dont-stand-dont-stand-so-dont-stand-so.html' title='&apos;Don&apos;t stand, don&apos;t stand so, don&apos;t stand so close to me!&apos; (I might break you)'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-4389485057305557772</id><published>2010-07-30T21:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T21:49:13.574+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'I JUST LOST MY VIRGINITY IN A CONFESSIONAL BOOTH!'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/IJUSTLOSTMYVIRGINITY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="161" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/IJUSTLOSTMYVIRGINITY.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;'LORD. HAVE. MERCY!'&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/LORDHAVEMERCY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="161" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/LORDHAVEMERCY.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #4c1130; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;...There's nothing quite like Kiss to make everything in life feel fantastic.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-4389485057305557772?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4389485057305557772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=4389485057305557772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4389485057305557772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4389485057305557772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-just-lost-my-virginity-in.html' title='&apos;I JUST LOST MY VIRGINITY IN A CONFESSIONAL BOOTH!&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-1198685601447638587</id><published>2010-07-30T11:09:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T11:21:27.439+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Like all weak men he laid an exaggerated stress on not changing one's mind.'</title><content type='html'>Busy, busy, busy. In the words of Bilbo - 'I feel like butter stretched across too much bread.' My trip to Wolves last weekend was awesome: wine, long chats, cheeky children, annnnddddd no Wolverhampton trip is complete without a naked Sarah in a changing room. Jo went to so much effort and bought my special moo-juice and everything. My friends &lt;i&gt;rock&lt;/i&gt;. Also, while we were at one of the &lt;strike&gt;cattle markets&lt;/strike&gt; clubs in the city centre, I managed to convince some guy that I'm a 24-year-old lesbian with four children. He left shortly afterwards. Which was the aim. The quote of the weekend of 24th July 2010 came from Jo - 'sometimes I wish I had a penis so I could randomly slap people round the face with it.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week I have mostly been giggling with fantastic friends and trying not to fall asleep on the bus. Though, I found out the other night that some guy I used to work with (I shan't mention any names..though I probably should) has told at least one person that we 'didn't have sex but we did other stuff'...which clearly is an hilarious lie. I like men with a little more substance and a little less pseudo-intellect and transparency, thank you. If he was somebody I'd look twice at, this wouldn't be such a ridiculous piece of news. It's a bit sad when you have to make things up like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;I'd just like to say that: Yes, the Catalan government voting in a ban of bullfighting in that particluar region is a good thing, of course...but it's not the massive step that everyone thinks it is. Apparently it's never really been that popular there anyway.&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, this week I have been re-discovering bands I frankly haven't thought about in years...Venom, Celtic Frost, Black Sabbath, Megadeth, Slayer. It's indescribable: that unique energy you feel that comes right from the very pit of your stomach when you hear the simple sound of guitars and drums galloping along together, creating pure magic. It awakens something primal inside you, something full of instinct and power, something that connects you with the very core of your human self. Music and sex - not so far removed from one another. Music is as essential to my existence as the breath in my lungs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(76, 17, 48);"&gt;"I think I should have no other mortal wants, if I could always have  plenty of music. It seems to infuse strength into my limbs, and ideas  into my brain. Life seems to go on without effort, when I am filled with  music."&lt;/b&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:xx-small;"&gt;- George Eliot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough words: here, have some metal. \m/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZyuJGzMANbw&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZyuJGzMANbw&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-1198685601447638587?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1198685601447638587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=1198685601447638587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1198685601447638587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1198685601447638587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/07/like-all-weak-men-he-laid-exaggerated.html' title='&apos;Like all weak men he laid an exaggerated stress on not changing one&apos;s mind.&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-8735134409448193631</id><published>2010-07-19T12:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T12:12:27.953+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Doll Parts</title><content type='html'>So I can no longer walk around my area alone at times that suit me and my life. When they catch that rapist, I'm sending him my taxi receipts. He's costing me a lot of money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all seriousness though, it makes me fucking sick that I cannot walk freely around the area in which I live at a time I choose. I can, of course, but frankly it would be a stupid thing to do. I'd be putting myself in danger. And there's being brave and being foolish. And this is all because I was born with ladybits. I feel a bit like an animal backed into a corner. I'm angry. One of the rapes happened in the road next to the one I'll be working in. Great! ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today James and I are going to The Riverside Tavern. I haven't been there for years and it's great to go in there with someone who's gay. I feel a little less fraudulant!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-8735134409448193631?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/8735134409448193631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=8735134409448193631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/8735134409448193631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/8735134409448193631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/07/doll-parts.html' title='Doll Parts'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-2982816926741124427</id><published>2010-07-17T00:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-17T00:30:11.097+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Are those symphonies forgotten with our cases closed and latched?'</title><content type='html'>Fuck off new Twilight movie. Just fuck off. And take Harry Potter with you please. That's right, you heard me: LEAVE THE HALL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it looks like I'll be starting work within the next three/four weeks.&amp;nbsp; This is good news and a half and a quarter and another quarter. So basically, it's double good news. I can do maths, me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week Ma'anit played at the Billabong in Rochester, and Toby and James also had a jam. That's right 'a jam'. That's what all the kids are calling it these days. Lots of laughter and fun as always. Quotes of the night for Tuesday 13th July 2010:&lt;br /&gt;'Hey, do you know who you look like?' - Hahaha! (oh, you had to be there...)&lt;br /&gt;and my second favourite was when some guy stopped me on my way to the bar, pointed at me for what seemed like forever, squinted and then said: 'Katy Perry.' To which I replied, '...uh, no.' This is funny because I don't resemble her in the &lt;i&gt;slightest&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to stop posting 'you had to be there' quotes. Maybe this quote of the day thing is not such a good idea in practice...But I do have a general quote of the moment, thanks to some random American voice - &lt;i&gt;'if he gave a shit about you, he'd be here right now.'&lt;/i&gt; Which generally relates to lots of things in lots of people's lives right now. And you know what? It's bloody true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then later in the week James and I went to visit Fluffy. We had a nice long night of chatting, giggling, and uh...shit porn. And by shit porn I do not mean actual &lt;i&gt;shit&lt;/i&gt; porn. Oh, and romantic comedies *vomits*. Thanks for the varied movie jukeboxing Fluff! &lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;I think.&lt;/span&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/s3Pro.jpg"&gt;This just in! Click here for tips on how to be happy as a woman, courtesy of Disney. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just so you boys don't feel left out: &lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/6B1Ln.jpg"&gt;Click here for tips on how to get your perfect woman and be successful in life.&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;Thank you, Liz :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brain. Switch. Off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: #741b47; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #741b47; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;'I've got nostalgic pavements,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #741b47; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I've got familiar faces,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #741b47; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I've got mixed-up memories,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;and I've got favourite places.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-2982816926741124427?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2982816926741124427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=2982816926741124427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2982816926741124427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2982816926741124427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/07/are-those-symphonies-forgotten-with-our.html' title='&apos;Are those symphonies forgotten with our cases closed and latched?&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-8694436670816344349</id><published>2010-07-12T13:18:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T00:17:06.881+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'The rest of us are DJs or official club photographers'</title><content type='html'>Those of you who know me personally will be aware that I'm a total squeemish wreck of a wimp of a coward of a weakling when it comes to any sort of scary film. Soooooo, I've decided to challenge myself in this department. I've watched Cannibal Holocaust. That's right. &lt;i&gt;I started with the soft stuff.&lt;/i&gt; I watched the uncut version. You know, the one including the scenes in which they cut the face off a monkey and kill a turtle TO DEATH! A choice film for a vegan, I'd say! It's good to watch something that disturbs you sometimes. That unsettles you deep down inside. It wakes you up a bit. There's too much comfort available in the Western world and sometimes we need to get down to our primal core of fear to feel alive in different ways. &lt;b&gt;Extreme &lt;strike&gt;music&lt;/strike&gt; films for extreme people!&lt;/b&gt; And then, as Rob Zombie is this week's musical favourite of mine, I decided to watch House of 1000 Corpses. Which I, to my complete surprise, thoroughly enjoyed. I probably didn't appreciate it on the same level as an avid watcher of horror movies would but I appreciated the sheer imagination and creativity that soaked through the whole film, down to the clever little details like Otis Driftwood's 'Burn this flag' t-shirt and Baby's awesomely chilling but playful laugh (kinda sexy, I won't lie).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; CLEAR: both" class="separator"&gt;&lt;a style="MARGIN-LEFT: 1em; MARGIN-RIGHT: 1em" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/babyfirefly.jpg" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/babyfirefly.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kickboxing was awesome. I'm going again this week. H'yah! Lots of people have asked me if I'm going for fitness or to train properly in ze arts but it's neither of those. I just like my life full of things. And people. And music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; CLEAR: both" class="separator"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; CLEAR: both" class="separator"&gt;&lt;a style="MARGIN-LEFT: 1em; MARGIN-RIGHT: 1em" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/35798_10150208325460492_24840727549.jpg" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/35798_10150208325460492_24840727549.jpg" width="150" height="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:xx-small;"&gt;Yeah, I'm a rubbish photographer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Ma'anit played at the Barge on Wednesday night. I think it's the best performance I've seen of hers so far. At the Barge, people aren't polite if you're shit - they just talk over you while you play but, as always, the moment Ms. Rosie started singing the whole room went silent. It's her voice: it's soulful, and when she hits her high notes it's glassy-clear and pure. Plus, she has the guts to play her own songs and they're melodic and catchy. Plus plus, she played my favourite song of hers and it was hard not to sing and sway along as I was recording! Plus plus plus (!), that night I got told I have perfect diction (lol, I love that word). Which is nice. I do speak the Queen's English after all, don't you know! Whatwhatwhat!&lt;br /&gt;Quotes of the night for Wednesday 7th July 2010:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;'I broke the Barge!'&lt;/i&gt; - Ma'anit (Yeah, you had to be there)&lt;br /&gt;and (upon sitting through the most &lt;strike&gt;depressingly&lt;/strike&gt; hillariously shit band I've possibly ever seen)&lt;i&gt; 'It's music like this that makes me understand why people kill themselves'&lt;/i&gt; - Ma'anit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-8694436670816344349?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/8694436670816344349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=8694436670816344349' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/8694436670816344349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/8694436670816344349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/07/rest-of-us-are-djs-or-official-club.html' title='&apos;The rest of us are DJs or official club photographers&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-567510598081253440</id><published>2010-07-07T12:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T12:45:12.173+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'How could this backwards land learn to understand my dance?'</title><content type='html'>Imagine my surprise, when searching for some sort of program/sketch show/nonsense to fall asleep to the other night, to see an &lt;i&gt;Anvil&lt;/i&gt; documentary featured on the BBC iplayer home page! So I watched it, naturally. And I'm still trying to decide whether it was some sort of Spinal Tap-inspired joke. I really hope it was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arthurian magic*? &lt;i&gt;Really?&lt;/i&gt; This is just how I imagine the bible and Christianity to have begun. A rumour of a man nobody can even confirm existed (seriously, look &lt;b&gt;properly&lt;/b&gt; into the history of King Arthur and you'll see what I mean), at least not on any important scale. A rumour that gets out of hand, people write lots of literature and stories about this man, and he becomes a sort of prophet figure. There'll be a bible part 2 soon, all about Arthur and Merlin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Kiss are wicked. That is all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/Kiss1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/Kiss1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;*Oh sorry, should that be '&lt;i&gt;magick&lt;/i&gt;' with a k? *rolls eyes*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-567510598081253440?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/567510598081253440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=567510598081253440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/567510598081253440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/567510598081253440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/07/how-could-this-backwards-land-learn-to.html' title='&apos;How could this backwards land learn to understand my dance?&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-6691191145643079663</id><published>2010-07-03T12:29:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T11:10:55.510+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'I am an interesting quote to sum-up the main subject of this particular blog entry'</title><content type='html'>I've had a relaxing week. I've had lots of spontaneous walks, went to Maidstone and watched some moo-sick, and last night stayed at Tom's. I walked home very early this-morning because he's going to France with his girly today - I'd forgotten how refreshing it is to have an early morning walk before breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joanna is looking forward to randomly trying kickboxing on Thursday. Well...when someone approaches you in Hempstead Valley and offers you a free first lesson, do you turn it down? By heck, you don't! Refusing such invitations and opportunities makes you boring and way too comfortable in the bubble of your own little life. Don't let your sky shrink: if you do, you'll gradually see fewer and fewer stars...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leo bit my mum. Ummers-bummer&lt;span style="font-size:xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:small;"&gt;s! You bit my mummers!&lt;/span&gt; Leo is our dog by the way. Not some guy we  know&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joanna, stop being silly and get on with your day, you &lt;i&gt;actual &lt;/i&gt;stranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;'Things in life aren’t always quite what they seem,&lt;br /&gt;there’s more than one given angle to any one given scene.&lt;br /&gt;So bare that in mind next time you try to intervene&lt;br /&gt;on any one given angle&lt;br /&gt;  on any one given scene.' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-6691191145643079663?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6691191145643079663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=6691191145643079663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6691191145643079663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6691191145643079663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-am-interesting-quote-to-sum-up-main.html' title='&apos;I am an interesting quote to sum-up the main subject of this particular blog entry&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-6553435378454621334</id><published>2010-07-01T02:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T02:18:35.991+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Poetry written in the sky</title><content type='html'>Hera is not still with me for nothing. She came when you did. Except she didn't leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why hasn't she left?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She brings with her such warm energies and gentle light. A sweetness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She knows that without her I would still be happy and grounded...and yet she stays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/HeraBouletjpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/HeraBouletjpg.jpg" width="253" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-6553435378454621334?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6553435378454621334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=6553435378454621334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6553435378454621334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6553435378454621334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/07/poetry-written-in-sky.html' title='Poetry written in the sky'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-9149839600396463648</id><published>2010-06-30T21:46:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T21:46:25.578+01:00</updated><title type='text'>In Remote Part</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;'Imaginations from the other side'&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Sylvia Plath's seemingly arrogant comment about god writing through her has always struck a chord with me. Because I know what she means. Anyone who creates must have felt like this at some point. Perhaps it's Bragi who bypasses my brain and goes straight to my fingers, brushing them with silver and words. But then it does not feel like exclusively 'male' input. Not that I'm claiming my stories or poetry to be anything &lt;i&gt;close&lt;/i&gt; to greatness or celestial. But I know how it feels to be caught in the current of vision, until your universe is flooded with ideas and clarity of thought. It's like taking Ecstacy, or surfing the clouds on the back of some mighty bird of prey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bunny-boiling buddies&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many of my friends talk to me about their relationship troubles. And that's entirely fine, though it's not like I can give any sort of constructive advice on this particular chestnut, let's face it! I do like to know every sordid little detail that runs screaming or sobbing through the minds of my friends though. &lt;span style="font-size:xx-small;"&gt; Does that make me some sort of voyeur?&lt;/span&gt; Aaaanyway, it's surprising to me how many people just have no idea where they stand at the moment. And then they're at serious risk of being seen as crazies. You know, the only times I've ever acted strangely or \cuckoo/ towards a guy I was seeing were &lt;b&gt;because&lt;/b&gt; I didn't know where I stood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that seems to be the rule: &lt;i&gt;if someone has no idea where they stand in your eyes and your heart, they &lt;b&gt;will&lt;/b&gt; go a bit weird on you&lt;/i&gt;. Simple as. It's like being told that you have exactly five seconds to choose between three identical apples - the eating of each will have its own different consequences and effects. You find it hard to hold steady and think straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I needed to type so much to make that small observation. But that's what I did. Deal with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'm going to Maidstone with Ma'anit tomorrow evening. This looks to be funsies. I hate it when people say funsies. &lt;i&gt;Well, why write it then?&lt;/i&gt; Sod off &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Toodles poodles!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i style="color: purple;"&gt;and so I'll bury every clue&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-9149839600396463648?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/9149839600396463648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=9149839600396463648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/9149839600396463648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/9149839600396463648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/in-remote-part.html' title='In Remote Part'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5559571003939954358</id><published>2010-06-28T14:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T14:14:39.317+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/pagan-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/pagan-1.jpg" width="313" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5559571003939954358?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5559571003939954358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5559571003939954358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5559571003939954358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5559571003939954358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5705534202365471886</id><published>2010-06-26T23:44:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T23:46:35.114+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Tear the petals off of you...'</title><content type='html'>Yesterday Matt and I went to the pub and drank too much. It was just like old times - but better (because I'm actually a pretty happy person these days!). It's great to have him back in my life properly. He's always been an amazing friend to me. And I finally met his two adorable daughters. Leonie is such a mixture of Matt and his wife Rachel, looks-wise. Also I chatted to some middle-aged punks outside the pub and I was thinking 'I bet they're accountants during the day, or something'...and guess what? They bleedin' well were! Apparently I look like 'the sort of person who plays a musical instrument'. Which is interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a good day. Picnic times and houmous fights (damn you, Mr. Cookenhausen!). Shelli provided us with the quote of the day - &lt;b&gt;'that's the most middle-class food fight I've seen in my life. You two, and houmous.'&lt;/b&gt; Then lovely chattage with Toby, and a brass band in Southfleet. Even if it was all a bit Christian for my liking. But I was there for my friend James and the music, so that made it okay. I really enjoyed the Shostakovich (good old freaky political Russians) but there was a &lt;i&gt;distinct&lt;/i&gt; lack of Radetzky March at the end - BOOHISSBOO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am a heavy-metal-hippie who likes classical music - what of it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5705534202365471886?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5705534202365471886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5705534202365471886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5705534202365471886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5705534202365471886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/tear-petals-off-of-you.html' title='&apos;Tear the petals off of you...&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-629174652942797932</id><published>2010-06-25T14:09:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T14:12:33.437+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Listen carefully to the sound...'</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Lesson of the day:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listening to cheesey stadium rock is where it's at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last couple of days have consisted of giggles with good friends and an increasingly unsettled mental state about this bloody job! Pleeeaaase let me know either way! They have sent off for my references: said references begin by saying - 'Joanna (I'mnottellingyoumymiddlename) Baker has been offered the position of support worker at...' But I haven't been offered the position. *insert confused face here*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picnic tomorrow! Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I have anything of interest to say? Not really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joanna is extremely happy about being in touch with Nera-noodles again! I've always felt so connected to her, whether we're in contact or not. She's one of the best people to talk to ever. She's beautiful, and intelligent, and she really &lt;i&gt;cares&lt;/i&gt; about things. Important things. Special girl. Yes, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And being back in Kent with Ma'anit also makes me extremely happy. She makes me so relaxed and every moment with her is fun or interesting or a mixture of the two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, gushing over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might get my lip pierced again. Nice one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.vegansociety.com/News-And-Events/News/%60Vegan%E2%80%99-%E2%80%93-a-legally-protected-term.aspx"&gt;Oh, and pretty good news for us hippies.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/dog-on-plate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/dog-on-plate.jpg" width="249" border="0" height="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-629174652942797932?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/629174652942797932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=629174652942797932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/629174652942797932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/629174652942797932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/listen-carefully-to-sound.html' title='&apos;Listen carefully to the sound...&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-7292882484669338881</id><published>2010-06-22T23:20:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T23:33:15.737+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'I am warm and close to those who deserve to see that side of me; part of me; the heart of me.'</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt; Joanna would like to begin today's rambling by stating the following:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a great deal of difference between missing someone and wanting someone again. I miss lots of things from years bygone. But that doesn't mean I want them all to happen again. A part of me will always feel that way about him, deep down inside...&lt;i&gt;because we never got a chance to completely ruin each other. &lt;/i&gt;But I have pride, and balls* and I don't like being messed around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to stop being so damned nice to people who do mess me around. I'm going to stop making the effort with people who don't make the effort with me. Because friendship doesn't work like that, whatever has gone on in the past. I think that I often confuse being compassionate and understanding with simply being an idiot. I can't say I've ever really been messed around &lt;b&gt;that&lt;/b&gt; much in my life but there comes a point at which you have to say to yourself...'it makes it easier on them for you to be understanding and a great friend, but what are you getting out of all this, Joanna?'. Thing is, most people find it easy to be selfish but I'm the other way around a lot of the time. And by covering up my selfish side, it doesn't mean I don't have it. I need to embrace the darker sides of myself as well as the light, otherwise....well, I'm only half a person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, if I'm totally honest, I fucking love my darker sides when I let them breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ohoho, that's right, Joanna's got her edge back and is fully herself again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"As a matter of fact, he is... a huge  schmuck. How did you know?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"He let you go. This is not a hard  one to figure out. Iris, in the movies  we have leading ladies and we have the best friend. You, I can tell,  are a leading lady, but for some reason you are behaving like the best  friend." &lt;br /&gt;"You're so right. You're supposed to be the leading lady of your own  life, for god's sake!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:xx-small;"&gt;*that's right - balls!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-7292882484669338881?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7292882484669338881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=7292882484669338881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7292882484669338881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7292882484669338881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-am-warm-and-close-to-those-who.html' title='&apos;I am warm and close to those who deserve to see that side of me; part of me; the heart of me.&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5786736696177531520</id><published>2010-06-21T23:01:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T00:11:21.517+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Dark have been my dreams of late'</title><content type='html'>These strange nightmares and nightvisions are back. I woke myself up last night calling out 'help' over and over again. The word and me calling it was incorporated into my dream. Twisted, dark, maddening, &lt;i&gt;maniacal&lt;/i&gt; dreams that I can't even begin to write down on here. A world of darkness that I haven't been pulled into for a while. And there was a name that stood out, it came to me once I'd woken up. But I've no idea who that person is. It needs remembering though - someone is not quite what they seem. Not in my life but in someone else's, I think. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Urgh. You would totally understand ALL of this. I miss you.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sod it, this is my journal and my feelings go into it, come what may.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5786736696177531520?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5786736696177531520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5786736696177531520' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5786736696177531520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5786736696177531520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/dark-have-been-my-dreams-of-late.html' title='&apos;Dark have been my dreams of late&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-1927812390016780072</id><published>2010-06-21T13:31:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T18:15:41.012+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Well, if Peter hadn't caught the wolf? What then?'</title><content type='html'>I have had an awesome weekend. Laughs. Talkings. New musical discoveries (thanks to the wonderful Mr. Cookington). Maidstone Wind Symphony at The Exchange in Maidstone. Wokingham Schools Concert at the Hexagon in Reading.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love the way James talks about music. He feels it right from his stomach, and with every single inch of himself (okay, I've just read that back to myself and it's not supposed to sound as rude as it does!). I only know a few other people like that. Besides that, anyone who has the same name as &lt;i&gt;the&lt;/i&gt; Captain Cook is pretty damn awesome by default, let's face it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've just listened to Iced Earth's Gettysburg Trilogy in its entirety for the first time in about two years. I still &lt;i&gt;adore&lt;/i&gt; it but whilst listening to the rest of that album I couldn't help thinking 'yeah okay Iced Earth; you're patriotic. &lt;i&gt;We get it&lt;/i&gt;.' I've never felt like that before. Perhaps I'm just a bit cynical today because I'm feeling poorly and I didn't get the job I wanted. How gutting to be down to the final four/five people going for THREE available jobs and then not get it! It's like getting to the final of the X-Factor and then losing...I'd expect.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now it's time for some Peter and the Wolf which I haven't listened to properly since childhood. Mum and Dad used to play it to me on an old Vinyl EP. It's bringing back memories. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Comfort food pls.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-1927812390016780072?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1927812390016780072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=1927812390016780072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1927812390016780072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1927812390016780072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/well-if-peter-hadnt-caught-wolf-what.html' title='&apos;Well, if Peter hadn&apos;t caught the wolf? What then?&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-8330252442859464012</id><published>2010-06-17T19:04:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T20:01:43.832+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Do not hand that man a blow-torch!'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TBpvU1x615I/AAAAAAAAAEU/VvBEjbFMbaM/s1600/BN4syI5yop589pl6BoMv0RwKo1_1280.png"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;'Jules, y'know, honey... this isn't real. You know what it is? It's St. Elmo's Fire. Electric flashes of light that appear in dark skies out of nowhere. Sailors would guide entire journeys by it, but the joke was on them... there was no fire. There wasn't even a St. Elmo. They made it up. They made it up because they thought they needed it to keep them going when times got tough, just like you're making up all of this. We're all going through this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;It's our time at the edge.'&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TBpvU1x615I/AAAAAAAAAEU/VvBEjbFMbaM/s1600/BN4syI5yop589pl6BoMv0RwKo1_1280.png"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TBpvU1x615I/AAAAAAAAAEU/VvBEjbFMbaM/s320/BN4syI5yop589pl6BoMv0RwKo1_1280.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483817900101523346" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 136px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Shame that what he's saying is totally inaccurate. But hey. It was the 80s.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-8330252442859464012?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/8330252442859464012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=8330252442859464012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/8330252442859464012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/8330252442859464012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/do-not-hand-that-man-blow-torch.html' title='&apos;Do not hand that man a blow-torch!&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TBpvU1x615I/AAAAAAAAAEU/VvBEjbFMbaM/s72-c/BN4syI5yop589pl6BoMv0RwKo1_1280.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-7194838381934517809</id><published>2010-06-17T15:07:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T15:12:51.091+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My father is, this very moment, on the phone to his insurance company complaining about an incorrect sentence formation on their latest policy agreement.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I bloody love you Daddy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-7194838381934517809?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7194838381934517809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=7194838381934517809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7194838381934517809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7194838381934517809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/my-father-is-this-very-moment-on-phone.html' title=''/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-9005460207005897118</id><published>2010-06-12T03:04:00.011+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T04:32:38.526+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The path of apathy is often the cruelest</title><content type='html'>Am I a bigot for believing whole-heartedly that it's wrong to abuse children?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then what's the fucking difference? Abused children; abused animals. Both feel pain. Both suffer &lt;b&gt;needlessly&lt;/b&gt;. There are no excuses. My dog Leo would probably taste good but, you know, I don't think I'll eat him today, thanks. Again, what's the difference? If you eat meat or even drink &lt;i&gt;milk&lt;/i&gt; from a major UK supermarket; you are allowing cruelty to animals. Where does your food come from?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/multimedia/archive/00033/IN4785275Animal-Aid-_33436s.jpg"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;Click here and ask yourself: does your meat come from factory farms?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-9005460207005897118?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/9005460207005897118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=9005460207005897118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/9005460207005897118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/9005460207005897118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/path-of-apathy-is-often-cruelest.html' title='The path of apathy is often the cruelest'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-3223535337448745976</id><published>2010-06-11T23:53:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T00:11:04.836+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Angels lie to keep control'</title><content type='html'>Wednesday night was pretty wicked, innit bruv. Brrrrap!*And I have found another sense-of-humour soulmate in the form of a Sophie. She's bloody spiffing, she is. Top hole! What what what!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chatting and coffee with Matt today; lovely as always. He's always made me feel so relaxed. I have the best friends ever. Fact.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sooooo, football season has started. &lt;i&gt;OH JOY OF JOYS. &lt;/i&gt;This confirms me as a non-pubgoer for the next few weeks at least.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have nothing of interest to say. But lots of look forward to. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;*don't ever type that word again, Joanna. Please.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-3223535337448745976?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3223535337448745976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=3223535337448745976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3223535337448745976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3223535337448745976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/angels-lie-to-keep-control.html' title='&apos;Angels lie to keep control&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5689388505168783916</id><published>2010-06-09T11:07:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T12:00:50.652+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. '</title><content type='html'>These past few days I have mostly been...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+ Spending time with lovely family who I don't see enough&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+ Smoking too many cigarettes (what the fuck is new?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+ As Dad calls it: Hound perambulation (there is something to be said for Daddy reading the dictionary in his spare time, I suppose)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+ Catching up with old friends (so lovely to see Sharon yesterday!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+ Trying to figure out the actions of my friends' complicated boy-crushes for them. To no avail. Naturally.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+ Drinking Vodka for the first time in about five years! (And bloody good it was too! Though I must admit the choice of Cherry-aid as an accompaniment was somewhat dubious...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+ Walking more than the Worldwide Walking Champions. And they walk a lot, I can tell you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+ Looking forward to Shelli's birthday 'mash-up' ('it's a mash-up! A pie and mash-up!') tonight and to Tom's party on Saturday! Yay!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+ and the usual tiresome rigmarole of job-hunting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;'Most Gods throw dice, but Fate plays chess; and you don't find out till too late that he's been playing with two queens all along'&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; - Terry Pratchett&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5689388505168783916?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5689388505168783916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5689388505168783916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5689388505168783916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5689388505168783916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/sometimes-ive-believed-as-many-as-six.html' title='&apos;Sometimes I&apos;ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. &apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-3236977623524560097</id><published>2010-06-06T00:43:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T00:53:43.957+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep shall burn in hell for being the thief of time!</title><content type='html'>As my Father mumbles to himself downstairs, shuffling around turning off each plug socket in his neurotic bed-time ritual, I sit here wishing there were enough hours in the day, enough mental juice and concentration, to write down every character, storyline, phrase that runs through my mind.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Never tasted dreadful water after sky had turned to blue.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-3236977623524560097?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3236977623524560097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=3236977623524560097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3236977623524560097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3236977623524560097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/sleep-shall-burn-in-hell-for-being.html' title='Sleep shall burn in hell for being the thief of time!'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-4105021155555858185</id><published>2010-06-05T15:24:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T16:33:07.096+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Anatomy of your enemy</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/appa4q2EwP4&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/appa4q2EwP4&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Verdana, Arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;10 easy steps to create an enemy and start a war:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Listen closely because we will all see this weapon used in our lives.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;It can be used on a society of the most ignorant to the most highly educated.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;We need to see these tactics as a weapon against humanity and not as truth.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;First step:&lt;/b&gt; Create the enemy. Sometimes this will be done for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Second step&lt;/b&gt;: Be sure the enemy that you have chosen is nothing like you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Find obvious differences like race, language, religion, dietary habits, fashion. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Emphasize that their soldiers are not doing a job;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;they are heartless murderers who enjoy killing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Third step:&lt;/b&gt; Once these differences are established, continue to reinforce them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;with all disseminated information.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fourth step:&lt;/b&gt; Have the media broadcast only the ruling party's information -&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;this can be done through state run media.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Remember, in times of conflict all for-profit media repeats the ruling party's information.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Therefore all for-profit media is state-run.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fifth step:&lt;/b&gt; show this enemy in actions that seem strange, militant, or different.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Always portray the enemy as non-human, evil, a killing machine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sixth step:&lt;/b&gt; Eliminate opposition to the ruling party.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Create an 'Us versus Them' mentality. Leave no room for opinions in between.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;One that does not support all actions of the ruling party should be considered a traitor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Seventh step:&lt;/b&gt; Use nationalistic and/or religious symbols and rhetoric to define all actions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This can be achieved with slogans such as 'freedom loving people versus those who hate freedom.'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This can also be achieved with the use of flags.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eighth step:&lt;/b&gt; Align all actions with the dominant deity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;It is very effective to use terms like, 'It is god's will' or 'god bless our nation.'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ninth step:&lt;/b&gt; Design propaganda to show that your soldiers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;have feelings, hopes, families, and loved ones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Make it clear that &lt;i&gt;your&lt;/i&gt; soldiers are doing a duty; they do not want or like to kill.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tenth step:&lt;/b&gt; Create an atmosphere of fear and instability,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;then offer the ruling party as the only solutions to comfort the public's fears.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Remembering the fear of the unknown is always the strongest fear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We are not countries. We are not nations. We are not religions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We are not gods. We are not weapons. We are not ammunition. We are not killers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We will not be tools.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not die&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not kill&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not be your slave&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not fight your battle&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not die on your battlefield&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not fight for your wealth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I am not a fighter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I am a human being.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-4105021155555858185?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4105021155555858185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=4105021155555858185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4105021155555858185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4105021155555858185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/anatomy-of-your-enemy.html' title='Anatomy of your enemy'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-7353254890927001035</id><published>2010-06-04T09:12:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T09:34:15.060+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'She's a magical, mystical womaaannnn!'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I have just woken up from a dream in which I was helping a God fight a Giant. Pretty fucking cool I must say. It was like a duel in the middle of a battle, everyone stopped and watched us. I was rubbish, haha! He kept throwing this big boulder at me. My role was that of the Shaman. Of course. As always.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Well, this week has consisted of random drinks out with old friends, hair dying, keeping on Daddy's good side (oh yes!), nuptials, endless conversation and laughter, epic falls (and I mean EPIC! I have the scars to prove it!) , spending way too much money on public transport, and meeting of new friends! A bloody good week I'd say, old chaps! What what!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't have much of interest to say. Except I almost punched someone at the wedding during the official picture time because he tried taking a photo of my cleavage. He behaved as though I'd be fine with it, as if I should be flattered. Urgh. &lt;b&gt;Fuck&lt;/b&gt; off. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have my interview today. If I don't get the job I'll be annoyed because I could be visiting my peeps in Wolverhampton right now! Fare ye well and a merry path before you all this day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-7353254890927001035?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7353254890927001035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=7353254890927001035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7353254890927001035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7353254890927001035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-have-just-woken-up-from-dream-in.html' title='&apos;She&apos;s a magical, mystical womaaannnn!&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-3915876148091929180</id><published>2010-05-31T14:36:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T14:40:19.866+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The battle of the sexes</title><content type='html'>Men are taught to never be weak,&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and women are taught to always be weak.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-3915876148091929180?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3915876148091929180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=3915876148091929180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3915876148091929180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3915876148091929180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/05/battle-of-sexes.html' title='The battle of the sexes'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-2931175959755914030</id><published>2010-05-29T19:16:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T20:05:36.914+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ballad of me and my friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Yesterday was Shelli's first proper gig with Old School Rules. It was in Kingston (London, not Jamaica, stoopid!) and we (Tom, Ryan, Charli, and me) all told her it was just too far to travel and that we couldn't afford it. I will never forget the look on her face when I stood in front of her in the pub garden and said 'surprise!', haha! I would walk over coals (relatively hot ones, too!) to see that happiness and surprise again! There's nothing quite like making your best friends smile and bounce with joy. And I think she cried a little bit. :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night consisted of beer, familiar faces, new faces, punk rock, noisy dogs, and lots of lovely jubbley laughter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TAFe-_MLDEI/AAAAAAAAAEE/MWfgXC5Zklc/s320/017.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476763058066623554" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; "&gt;That's &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; wifey! And you can't have her!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;Shelli did a wicked job, as did the whole of Old School Rules. She's an awesome front-woman - the perfect fusion of charm, charisma, and SPUNK! Yeah baby! It's also been fantastic to spend time with Tom again lately, after all these years, because he's pretty damn cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;So all in all, the past forty eight hours has been bloody smashing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;'Well if you're all about the destination, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;then take a fucking flight!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;We're going nowhere slowly but we're seeing all the sights.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;And we're definitely going to hell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003333;"&gt;but we'll have all the best stories to tell...'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-2931175959755914030?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2931175959755914030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=2931175959755914030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2931175959755914030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2931175959755914030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/05/ballad-of-me-and-my-friends.html' title='The Ballad of me and my friends'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/TAFe-_MLDEI/AAAAAAAAAEE/MWfgXC5Zklc/s72-c/017.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-2094631182413458734</id><published>2010-05-28T14:23:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T14:36:31.667+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'And I know I'm not the one who is habitually optimistic...'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;...but I'm the one who's got the microphone here, so just remember this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yeah, life's about love, last minutes, and lost evenings&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;about fire in our bellies and about furtive little feelings&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;and the aching amplitudes that set our needles all aflickering:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;they help us with remembering that the only thing that's left to do &lt;b&gt;is live!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;After all the loving and losing, after all the heroes and the pioneers&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;the only things that's left to do is get another round in at the bar'&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I saw Faye for the first time in Idon'tknowhowmany years. She gives off such joyful, creative energies. Simply lovely company. And her gorgeous little girl Evie has the most wonderful temperament. Ah, that was a nice day. Shame I didn't get there earlier :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have an interview on Friday. Go me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-2094631182413458734?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2094631182413458734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=2094631182413458734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2094631182413458734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2094631182413458734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/05/and-i-know-im-not-one-who-is-habitually.html' title='&apos;And I know I&apos;m not the one who is habitually optimistic...&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-3203000255131791192</id><published>2010-05-27T02:30:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T02:35:06.493+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a very boring title</title><content type='html'>I've just discovered that Hobnobs are Vegan. &lt;i&gt;Get in!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, I love the expression 'shit off'. Here's an example of how one can use it in everyday conversation:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some man - 'Excuse me miss, would you sign my petition to ban England shirts in pubs?'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me - 'No, shit off.'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should really get some sleep at some point...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-3203000255131791192?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3203000255131791192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=3203000255131791192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3203000255131791192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3203000255131791192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/05/ive-just-discovered-that-hobnobs-are.html' title='I am a very boring title'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-3829352204258091215</id><published>2010-05-26T11:31:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T15:22:02.350+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'The women of this country learned long ago that those without swords may still die upon them.'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Here's what's happening in my....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dream domains&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Well last night I dreamt that Johan Hegg and I went on an adventure, and then we have wild, crazy sex. Now that's more like it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Creative cosmos&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've found drawings I did years ago of cats all in different positions. I must say they're pretty good. Dad noticed them as he walked through my room and told me I 'have &lt;i&gt;some&lt;/i&gt; &lt;i&gt;talent&lt;/i&gt;!' How about that? A clear as day compliment from Daddy. Maybe it's because I laughed at his joke about Vanessa Feltz this-morning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love my tin whistle and my tin whistle loves me. We play Folkearth and Cruachan together. We make sweet musical love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Professional pursuits&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It looks like I'll have an interview soon. Cross your fingers and pray to your favourite god for me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Field of friendships&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going to see Faye and her little girl Evie tomorrow - Joanna is looking forward to this muchly. Also, it's remarkable how many of my female friends have been plainly messed around lately by men. This is just getting silly. These girls are no fools either. They just refuse to live their life like robots. Like empty shells. What are you guys so damned afraid of? This definitely has something to do with the shift in male/female relations that's happening at the moment (And before you scoff, I am well aware that women are just as capable of such idiotic behaviour as men are! So put that in your cake and bake it!). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'book antiqua'; font-size: medium; color: rgb(0, 0, 128); "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;'There is no intensity of love or feeling that does not involve the risk of crippling hurt. It is a duty to take this risk, to love and feel without defense or reserve.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: georgia, serif; font-style: normal; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; "&gt; - &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; "&gt;William S. Burroughs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One day, when I am old, unsteady, and dribbley, I'll look back at my experiences, and blame everything bad in my life on Arkona for not including the UK in their current European tour.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*insert witty, colourful sign-off here*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-3829352204258091215?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3829352204258091215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=3829352204258091215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3829352204258091215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3829352204258091215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/05/women-of-this-country-learned-long-ago.html' title='&apos;The women of this country learned long ago that those without swords may still die upon them.&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5041132622680112458</id><published>2010-05-22T21:29:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T23:45:39.387+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'The world must be peopled!'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Today was fandabidozie. Yes, that's a word. Hazel, Kevin and the kiddlies came to visit. Those children just wake me up inside. Abbie is simply too clever and colourful for words and Thomas' mind is like some sort of mechanical marvel machine. Today Auntie Jo has spent too long in the sun, sung around a piano (like a Prima Donna, first lady of the staaage!), genuinely &lt;i&gt;lost&lt;/i&gt; a child more than once during games of hide and seek, drawn pirates and fairies, and eaten far too much!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh. And been called Auntie 'Jew' &lt;i&gt;several&lt;/i&gt; times...Why Abbie? Why?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;'I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books.'&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;'No. An he were, I would burn my study.'&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;- Beatrice, 'Much Ado About Nothing'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Yes, I read Shakespeare for pleasure. What of it? Blast, now all of my favourite moments are coming to me. Must. Not. Quote!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S_hV2bYhMMI/AAAAAAAAAD8/oWNxtwO8kZk/s320/branaugh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474219740620730562" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;'BENEDICK - They say the lady is fair. 'Tis a truth, I can bear them witness. And virtuous - 'tis so, I cannot reprove it. And wise, but for loving me. By my troth, it is no addition to her wit - nor no great argument of her folly, for I will be horribly in love with her. I may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me because I have rallied so long against marriage; but doth not the appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in age. Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the career of his humour? No. The world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married. Here comes Beatrice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Enter Beatrice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;By this day, she's a fair lady. I do spy some marks of love in her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;BEATRICE - Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;BENEDICK - Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;BEATRICE - I took no more pains for those thanks than you take pains to thank me. If it had been painful I would not have come.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;BENEDICK - You take pleasure, then, in the message?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;BEATRICE - Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife's point and choke a daw withal. You have no stomach, signor? Fair you well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Exit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;BENEDICK - Ha! 'Against my will I am sent to bid you come into dinner.' There's a double meaning in that. 'I took no more pains for those thanks than you took pains to thank me.' That's as much as to say 'Any pains that I take for you is as easy and thanks.' - If I do not take pity of her I am a villian. If I do not love her I am a Jew. I will go get her picture.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;-Much Ado 2.3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Oh well. It was worth it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5041132622680112458?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5041132622680112458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5041132622680112458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5041132622680112458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5041132622680112458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/05/world-must-be-peopled.html' title='&apos;The world must be peopled!&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S_hV2bYhMMI/AAAAAAAAAD8/oWNxtwO8kZk/s72-c/branaugh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-3402297421698228313</id><published>2010-05-21T15:32:00.011+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T16:51:46.163+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'How sad it is! I shall grow old, and horrible, and dreadful. But this picture will remain always young.'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I've come to a general conclusion about writing - It's not what you include that makes a good book, it's what you leave out. Trust your reader to come to some conclusions on their own - too much detail and description just makes things tiresome to read and you'll end up patronising your audience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;This job-hunting thing is bleedin' frustrating. I know exactly what I want to do and I'm perfectly qualified and experienced in the field - why can I not find anything that would take me less than two hours to travel to? 'Tis the god of jobs paying me back for not really bothering to find anything in previous years! Damn yooouuu!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I had a dream the other night that I was in a big studio - like a dance hall or something - and was partaking in some sort of acting class. We were given this exercise to do which seemed simple really: we all had to keep frowns on our faces, no matter what. But then the teachers kept saying hilarious things and playing funny audio clips and so none of us could help but laugh. I remember that I took the whole thing extremely seriously too and I got terribly annoyed with myself that I couldn't keep the frown on my face. Looking back on the dream now I see it as an indication that I find it hard to be anything other than myself these days. Which is a damn good thing. However, as a result, I'm finding it rather difficult to be strictly formal when I'm filling forms out, etc. When I am faced with something like a questionnaire my brain just wants me to splash and scrawl and doodle my personality all over it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Also, I have randomly remembered that when I was a child, I used to think hamburgers were called 'handburgers'. Mental pictures rule.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So. The Westborough Baptist Church want to picket the funeral (or is it the memorial service) of Ronnie James Dio. Urgh. I don't have much fear of them actually ruining it though: Thousands of passionate heavy metal fans will be there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So good luck with that one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I've finished reading The Picture of Dorian Gray. Oscar, why didn't you write more books? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Please come back to life. You can live in my shoebox or under the bed! We'll take trips to Ireland together and I'll buy you Opium! Pwomise! &lt;/span&gt;Then I started watching the 2009 movie 'Dorian Gray'. Which I subsequently turned off. For me the casting was all wrong - Colin Firth as Henry? Please! I'd expected him to play Basil! It just wasn't working. And Ben Barnes gave an alright performance it's just that...Dorian Gray was supposed to be beautiful, eye-catching; not plain and forgettable. And, whilst reading the book, I certainly didn't imagine him as having a bum-chin. 'Nuff said. I also was rather annoyed at the entire atmosphere of the film. Why was it so damned spooky from the offset? The beauty of the book is that it takes sinister twists here and there aiding to build up the tension for Dorian towards the end, but it certainly wasn't a jumpy rollercoaster for the most part. What's that all about? I also hate that they gave away the most climactic part to the nature of the main character &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;right at the beginning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;. With the book you discovered the different elements to Dorian as he was discovering them himself. I know movies don't necessarily need to follow the books exactly and sometimes this is a very good thing, however the film just pissed on the charming parts of the book for me. That's right, pissed on it. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Shame I couldn't include that in an English Lit' essay&lt;/span&gt;. Is the only way to show madness, vanity, suspense, suspicion these days a few ominous chords playing throughout a scene? Some originality please! Perhaps I'm just too &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 16px; font-family:arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;blasé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; about anything horrific, and took the mood of the book more lightly than I should have done (Which I didn't - it just wasn't unnecessarily tense the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;entire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; way through). Or maybe I should watch the end of the film before making such sweeping judgements (I did watch most of it!). Or maybe I would enjoy movies more if I wasn't such a nutjob about books. Orrrr maybe (as has been my general suspicion for the last few years) Hollywood movies just don't do it for me. More depth plz. Kthx.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S_anp5l6N-I/AAAAAAAAADQ/498NnRwiuho/s320/deconstructing-dorian-gray-veronica-jackson.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473746735391717346" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 251px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;'Deconstructing Dorian Gray' by Veronica Jackson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Wow, you didn't actually read all that, did you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-3402297421698228313?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3402297421698228313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=3402297421698228313' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3402297421698228313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3402297421698228313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/05/how-sad-it-is-i-shall-grow-old-and.html' title='&apos;How sad it is! I shall grow old, and horrible, and dreadful. But this picture will remain always young.&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S_anp5l6N-I/AAAAAAAAADQ/498NnRwiuho/s72-c/deconstructing-dorian-gray-veronica-jackson.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5510755128330519837</id><published>2010-05-16T17:27:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T17:50:12.538+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I knew it would be hard to leave Ben and Ewan but now I'm actually living the distance...and it's horrid.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want Ewan to call me in his soft voice and ask me a question about football that I couldn't answer even if I had the internet infront of me, I want Ben to look up at me with those intense, brilliant blue eyes and say something cheeky but hilarious at the same time, I want to sit on the sofa and have them run, jump and dance around me oozing that special energy that &lt;i&gt;only&lt;/i&gt; children emit. I want bath-times and silly walks and afternoon giggles and squishy cuddles and bed-time stories. I want my boys :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot imagine what it must be like to have your &lt;i&gt;own&lt;/i&gt; children and not being able to see them all the time. It must be five-hundred times harder than this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Poosticks :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5510755128330519837?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5510755128330519837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5510755128330519837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5510755128330519837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5510755128330519837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-knew-it-would-be-hard-to-leave-ben.html' title=''/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5856516517706571032</id><published>2010-05-16T14:19:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T15:07:15.388+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Friendship is contagious</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Joanna needs...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;a jobby! Does anyone on here manage a centre/home for kids with Autism? Anyone?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Didn't think so :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Joanna has been reading...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Twilight. Ohoho that's right. I'm reading it for research (don't ask), I'm on the last chapter, and the entire book has been &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;pure. comedy. gold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;. Lawls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Joanna went to...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Lesley's party last night and had a giggle - even if it was a little depressing (and awkward!) watching her brother drink himself into a babbling stupor across the table. I still don't know what her house looks like, we spent the entire time outside perched on wobbly garden chairs. I hope Vicky emails the photos over soon! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;...*insert smiley face here to indicate happiness, etc*...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Joanna has been stalked by...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;the chorus of Skyclad's 'Still Spinning Shrapnel' for the last week. Git awt ov ma brayn!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:Verdana, Arial;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;'They made a statue of us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:Verdana, Arial;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;And it put it on a mountain top&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:Verdana, Arial;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;Now tourists come and stare at us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;Blow bubbles with their gum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#663366;"&gt;Take photographs, have fun'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="txt_1"    style=";font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:11px;color:red;"&gt;&lt;div class="KonaBody"&gt;&lt;div id="div_customCSS"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5856516517706571032?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5856516517706571032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5856516517706571032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5856516517706571032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5856516517706571032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/05/friendship-is-contagious.html' title='Friendship is contagious'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-2521327942545414297</id><published>2010-05-15T14:04:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T14:10:50.227+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'nothing that I wouldn't do..'</title><content type='html'>How unwise would it be to write about this on my online journal?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Very, actually.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-2521327942545414297?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2521327942545414297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=2521327942545414297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2521327942545414297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2521327942545414297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/05/nothing-that-i-wouldnt-do.html' title='&apos;nothing that I wouldn&apos;t do..&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-4951892073149914564</id><published>2010-05-15T12:16:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T14:43:36.999+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Life opens up opportunities to you, and you either take them or you stay afraid of taking them.'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Thanks for the quote Jim Carrey. You're pretty damn cool.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I'm busy today. Although I'm not going out as early as I thought which gives me time to drink this here coffee and smoke a cigarette. Ah, simple pleasures.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I walked EVERYWHERE, wee'd in a bottle (that doctor is some sort of pervert, I'm sure of it), giggled and had good chats with two lovely friends, drank cheap wine, and was insulted by a taxi driver. So all in all, a good day. Also, I might set myself a little photography project taking pictures of everyone's ankles. That's right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The more I read about Dyspraxia, the more I understand why Ben does some of the things he does. It has made me realise that he's stronger and works harder than most children his age, just with what we would call the 'simplest' of tasks. He's a brave little man. Capable of more than we realise. I love you Ben. You feed my spirit and help keep it alive just by being you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My world is full of people, my world is full of hope and joy and laughter and spiritual medicine. Just needed to look in the right places.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(64, 56, 45); line-height: 20px; font-family:Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”&lt;/em&gt; ~Anais Nin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-4951892073149914564?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4951892073149914564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=4951892073149914564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4951892073149914564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/4951892073149914564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/05/life-opens-up-opportunities-to-you-and.html' title='&apos;Life opens up opportunities to you, and you either take them or you stay afraid of taking them.&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-702712471075859417</id><published>2010-05-14T09:48:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T10:15:29.332+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Thousands of years ago, cats were worshipped as Gods. Cats have never forgotten this.'</title><content type='html'>I had a dream last night that I was guest-singing on stage with Frank Turner. And then when we were backstage he tried to cuddle me and sit on my lap like a child. It was &lt;b&gt;weird&lt;/b&gt;. I think there's been some sort of mixup on the dreamwaves, as this one should have gone to Shelli Clarkerson. She would have appreciated that a &lt;i&gt;lot&lt;/i&gt; more than I did, especially since he had his shirt off for most of the dream. Wasted on me, I tell you! Send the skinny ones to Shelli! Got it?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hanging out of the window smoking a sneaky cigarette at 3am teaches you a lot about the wildlife around here. I heard what could only be described as a cat orgy, and then the birds went crazycoconuts so perhaps they had some sort of involvement? Who's to know?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I seriously need to get moving today. Not because I have lots of stuff to do (which I do) but because I need to buy tobacco. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmm, I think I'll leave anything spiritual to my real-life diary. So if you are interested in that side of things, you'll have to become me for a day...because that's the only way you'd get to read my actual diary. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good luck with that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-702712471075859417?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/702712471075859417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=702712471075859417' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/702712471075859417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/702712471075859417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-had-dream-last-night-that-i-was-guest.html' title='&apos;Thousands of years ago, cats were worshipped as Gods. Cats have never forgotten this.&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-1697192017859603908</id><published>2010-05-14T01:31:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T13:53:34.141+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'This country is my canvas, I leave paint-trails as I go'</title><content type='html'>Oh yes. She's alive. Where on earth do I start?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not going to do this poncy updatingyouonthelast6months nonsense. A bit of mystery is good for the soul. And boy, there's been plenty of that I can tell thee!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, I painted my face with a celticy fairy design, took pictures, filmed a gorgeous girly singing sad songs (yes, I had tears..and bumps made from geese!), laughed until I couldn't breathe, walked like a Jamaican pensioner, and generally felt very very grateful for everything around me. That's right, I'm a woman and I feel fulfilled most at a point in my life when I'm single. Pah, have that, media! Have that, nuclear family! I. am. happy. And I'm not interested in meeting anyone else. So sod off weird guy in a blue van and flirty man in Tesco. Just you sod right off!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's a quarter to two to the a.m and I really should be asleep. I'm sat here thinking about how much I miss my Wolverhampton homies. Sarah, Jo, Carrie, and all of their children combined (And Kat who has no children...yet!). I have got used to seeing six of my eight favourite children &lt;b&gt;every single day&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you tell people you read books they instantly assume you're intelligent. Which is not only highly inaccurate but also really quite sad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;'Don't blame yourself. Let me do it.&lt;/i&gt;'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-1697192017859603908?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1697192017859603908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=1697192017859603908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1697192017859603908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1697192017859603908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2010/05/this-country-is-my-canvas-i-leave-paint.html' title='&apos;This country is my canvas, I leave paint-trails as I go&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5354586181423877020</id><published>2009-12-29T23:35:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-12-29T23:36:48.353Z</updated><title type='text'>The diary of a girl in the 21st century</title><content type='html'>'The only way to gain approval is by exploiting the very thing that cheapens me'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5354586181423877020?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5354586181423877020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5354586181423877020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5354586181423877020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5354586181423877020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/12/diary-of-girl-in-21st-century.html' title='The diary of a girl in the 21st century'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-164846744172348981</id><published>2009-12-29T22:14:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-29T23:08:37.147Z</updated><title type='text'>' 'Cause if you look deep dreams are nothing that I lack'</title><content type='html'>I'm all talked out for the evening. I just felt I should update this bloggy-wog for once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots has happened, blah blah blah. I'm wondering why we base an entire fucking cultural belief system about mental 'illness' on what a few blokes said a hundred years ago. Screw that. Everyone's insane these days. Everyone who festers in a nine-to-five with a society-imposed dream of marriage and children to smother is safe from the label, but anyone else...&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;watch out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, 'A Million Voices' by Wyclef Jean is AMAZING. That's right, I don't just listen to songs about the political situation and history of Britain and America. Check me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I am glad that you have shot this footage and that the world will see it. It is the only way we have a chance that people might intervene."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Yeah and if no one intervenes, is it still a good thing to show?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"How can they not intervene when they witness such atrocities?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I think if people see this footage they'll say, "oh my God that's horrible,"...and then go on eating their dinners."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gah. I actually can't even explain why I've quoted that. It's too hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-164846744172348981?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/164846744172348981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=164846744172348981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/164846744172348981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/164846744172348981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/12/cause-if-you-look-deep-dreams-are.html' title='&apos; &apos;Cause if you look deep dreams are nothing that I lack&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-2616643441640225575</id><published>2009-10-11T16:32:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T17:03:51.839+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'with newspaper cuttings of his glory days'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/StH_lZzP7JI/AAAAAAAAABo/USBY1IG6WtQ/s1600-h/USguntohead.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 199px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/StH_lZzP7JI/AAAAAAAAABo/USBY1IG6WtQ/s200/USguntohead.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391371246985276562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'The novel is called &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Richard&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; and will be published in early 2011. It tells the story of Richard Edwards (formerly of the Manic Street Preachers) as he might have told it. Picador called the novel "thoughtful and thought-provoking, and written in a taut yet beautiful tone".'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh, and &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/8301120.stm"&gt;... :)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-2616643441640225575?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2616643441640225575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=2616643441640225575' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2616643441640225575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2616643441640225575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/10/novel-is-called-richard-and-will-be.html' title='&apos;with newspaper cuttings of his glory days&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/StH_lZzP7JI/AAAAAAAAABo/USBY1IG6WtQ/s72-c/USguntohead.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-6605355165331415870</id><published>2009-10-04T20:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T20:46:08.575+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Wyrd byð swyðost</title><content type='html'>Is fate really inexorable?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-6605355165331415870?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6605355165331415870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=6605355165331415870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6605355165331415870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6605355165331415870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/10/wyrd-by-swyost.html' title='Wyrd byð swyðost'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5494566090112083642</id><published>2009-08-18T12:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T12:07:23.241+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>lol the 'rag and bone' men have been shouting 'any old irrooon'!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5494566090112083642?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5494566090112083642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5494566090112083642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5494566090112083642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5494566090112083642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/08/lol-rag-and-bone-men-have-been-shouting.html' title=''/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-6598132868502749228</id><published>2009-08-09T12:33:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T12:43:21.154+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why does everyone think they're some sort of alternative model these days? Black eyeliner and skimpy pvc does not a model make. Self-esteem kicks need to be acquired elsewhere in most cases I've seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's sunny again! In the Midlands! It's an auspicious occassion, I tells thee. I've made a compost heap in the garden, and now we have peppers, chilles and oregano growing. Garden therapy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing more to say because I've only just woken up, but Friday promises to be a really good day, and so does Saturday, hooray!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'Maturity's a wrapped-up package deal or so it seems. Ditching teenage fantasy means ditching all your dreams. All your friends and peers and family solemnly tell you you will have to grow up, be an adult. Be bored and unfulfilled. But no one's yet explained to me exactly what's so great about slaving 50 years away on something that you hate; about meekly shuffling down the path of mediocrity. Well if that's your road then take it but it's not the road for me.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-6598132868502749228?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6598132868502749228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=6598132868502749228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6598132868502749228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6598132868502749228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/08/why-does-everyone-think-theyre-some.html' title=''/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-9023144600311912777</id><published>2009-08-04T20:31:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T20:38:30.821+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'And that the values and ideals for which many had fought and died</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Had been killed off in the committees and left to die by the wayside'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, I'm lucky to have such a supportive family but when you find out you're not invited to a family outing at Chrristmas arranged by your parents it hurts. But what can I do but say 'fuck 'em'? I'm confused and saddened and at the moment, past caring. I'm almost used to feeling like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Gods are still alive and the quicker the world realises this, the happier we'll all be. I'm currently going through a healing process supported, as always, by my faith and the way things used to be. Also, by music: my old saviour. The world awaits me and I'm going to beat it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-9023144600311912777?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/9023144600311912777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=9023144600311912777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/9023144600311912777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/9023144600311912777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/08/and-that-values-and-ideals-for-which.html' title='&apos;And that the values and ideals for which many had fought and died'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-7012146518893969309</id><published>2009-08-01T00:44:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T00:50:41.053+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dagda</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/dagda1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 387px; height: 353px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v404/Jezebel_Luna/dagda1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The All father&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;King of the &lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tuatha   Dé Danann for many years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Symbols: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Cauldron, Harp and the Club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.adf.org/articles/gods-and-spirits/celtic/dagda.html"&gt;Click here &lt;/a&gt;for more information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-7012146518893969309?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7012146518893969309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=7012146518893969309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7012146518893969309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7012146518893969309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/08/dagda.html' title='The Dagda'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-896623540647270972</id><published>2009-08-01T00:14:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T00:34:55.100+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm seriously thinking about checking myself into some clinic or other - every other area of the health service just throws tablets at me and waits impatiently for me to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope is a funny word. It's so...complete, and full of promise. Yet it can vanish in an instant, a nano-second for no reason whatsoever. I think I will play it safe by forgetting about hope and sticking purely to wishes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-896623540647270972?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/896623540647270972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=896623540647270972' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/896623540647270972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/896623540647270972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-seriously-thinking-about-checking.html' title=''/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-6741189787208166114</id><published>2009-07-31T23:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T23:16:34.681+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I hereby vow to never, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ever&lt;/span&gt; write a romantic comedy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-6741189787208166114?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6741189787208166114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=6741189787208166114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6741189787208166114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6741189787208166114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-hereby-vow-to-never-ever-write.html' title=''/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-8633957240058064735</id><published>2009-07-24T20:54:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T21:01:35.234+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay, maybe I will do a post about it</title><content type='html'>Well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just sat here, fingers waiting in anticipation and readiness on the keys, eyes staring at the screen and my mind...it doesn't want to explain. Because there's no putting into words. There's no describing it that doesn't span out to novel-length.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll save it for my stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or perhaps I still haven't really accepted it myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-8633957240058064735?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/8633957240058064735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=8633957240058064735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/8633957240058064735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/8633957240058064735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/07/okay-maybe-i-will-do-post-about-it.html' title='Okay, maybe I will do a post about it'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-3978590439310540304</id><published>2009-07-23T16:33:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T16:41:45.773+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to a better understanding of ourselves.'</title><content type='html'>GEORGE GEORGE GEORGE GEORGE GEORGE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy now? ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aghem...Monday at the Safari was great and Ben came out with a classic as usual: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Me -&lt;/span&gt; 'well, we;re going to be able to feed the animals out of the windows!'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ben -&lt;/span&gt; 'I don't want no giraffe lickin' my Dock car!' We fed deer and giraffes which followed our car, and a zebra tried to enter the vehicle also!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week has been a good one. Haven't said that in a while. Good good good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-3978590439310540304?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3978590439310540304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=3978590439310540304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3978590439310540304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/3978590439310540304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/07/everything-that-irritates-us-about.html' title='&apos;Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to a better understanding of ourselves.&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-6628933140569898466</id><published>2009-07-20T01:37:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T01:48:57.933+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Old Ways</title><content type='html'>...are not entirely lost...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;'Jack, do you never sleep?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Does the green still run deep in your heart?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Or will these changing times,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;motorways, powerlines,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;keep us apart?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Well, I don't think so:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I saw some grass growing through the pavements today.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-6628933140569898466?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6628933140569898466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=6628933140569898466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6628933140569898466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/6628933140569898466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/07/old-ways.html' title='The Old Ways'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-1604847729729716513</id><published>2009-07-20T01:20:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T01:29:14.459+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ride on</title><content type='html'>I also want Pagan Purity by Elvenking to be part of my funeral. Sod it, I'll have a whole compilation CD. Donations at the door please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today confirmed that true friendship transcends time and distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday confirmed that these are NOT the tablets for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow...who knows. Babysitting all day and we might take the kiddles to the Safari Park. We'll see how much it costs first though! That's right, there are no beaches in the midlands but they have Safari Parks - the mind boggles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would the neighbours &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; mind if I played the tin whistle at this hour? ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Damn it, thought so :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-1604847729729716513?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1604847729729716513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=1604847729729716513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1604847729729716513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1604847729729716513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/07/ride-on.html' title='Ride on'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-610414604977782242</id><published>2009-07-17T02:16:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T02:23:11.183+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I want Tull's 'Life's a long song' played at my funeral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for the record.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I came back from Kent after seeing my wifey play her first proper gig. Ialmost cried fro pride, I'm so sodding soppy. Anyway, it was a great first gig and we look forward to more from the faerie herself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a kitten on my shoulder. I'm a girlie pirate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-610414604977782242?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/610414604977782242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=610414604977782242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/610414604977782242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/610414604977782242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-want-tulls-lifes-long-song-played-at.html' title=''/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-2786434974138813621</id><published>2009-07-10T01:34:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T01:40:56.287+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The fact that this has anything to do with Michal Jackson or his pet rat is irrelevant. This is for my nephew, my boy, my bestest buddy, for Ben.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cwAmpn8ISV0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cwAmpn8ISV0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lyrics are so poignant. Especially as he gets older, people see Ben's cheek and not Ben himself. Also, his dispraxia means that sometimes he really is 'running here and there'! Ben brings me to life. Here's to you, you 'plinky-plonk'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-2786434974138813621?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2786434974138813621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=2786434974138813621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2786434974138813621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/2786434974138813621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/07/fact-that-this-has-anything-to-do-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-7942314841704502683</id><published>2009-07-06T00:39:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T00:41:16.636+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'God only knows what I'd be without you'</title><content type='html'>I've just had a long, girly chat with Jo. Some people are so important to me and it's not scary...it's the best feeling in the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-7942314841704502683?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7942314841704502683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=7942314841704502683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7942314841704502683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/7942314841704502683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/07/god-only-knows-what-id-be-without-you.html' title='&apos;God only knows what I&apos;d be without you&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-8119194860819893685</id><published>2009-07-05T13:23:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T13:26:47.109+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'following the footsteps of a ragdoll dance'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/SlCbbixr1qI/AAAAAAAAABg/Q3_upnlGrl0/s1600-h/c5186283.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 137px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/SlCbbixr1qI/AAAAAAAAABg/Q3_upnlGrl0/s200/c5186283.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354950854437492386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh Siouxsie. So many memories attached to your influence on my teenage years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-8119194860819893685?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/8119194860819893685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=8119194860819893685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/8119194860819893685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/8119194860819893685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/07/following-footsteps-of-ragdoll-dance.html' title='&apos;following the footsteps of a ragdoll dance&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/SlCbbixr1qI/AAAAAAAAABg/Q3_upnlGrl0/s72-c/c5186283.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-8965370349205463150</id><published>2009-07-04T21:27:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T22:17:38.732+01:00</updated><title type='text'>History is a weapon to be used against your own prejudice</title><content type='html'>Today saw family, kiddlies and sunshine. This was a good thing. It was wonderful to see Kevin after such a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm astounded by the palpable presence of racism from some parts of the city I live in. It makes me physically sick and I refuse to accept these opinions and remain silent about them. I always reply harshly to racist comments and I don't give a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fuck&lt;/span&gt; if it gets me in trouble. Pfft. I'm too angry to write about this subject sanely or logically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, Journey = yay. Stadium rock wins today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is there for little ol' me to write about now? I refrain from jabbering on about anything psychiatry related because I refuse to let any illnesses I have define me. It's just something I'm battling through, like cancer or the flu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learnt today that in some parts of the world people are still sentenced to death for just a suspicion of witchcraft. Why am I surprised by this? Amin, Pot, Stalin, Hitler: you ain't got nothing on Christianity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-8965370349205463150?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/8965370349205463150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=8965370349205463150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/8965370349205463150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/8965370349205463150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/07/history-is-weapon-to-be-used-against.html' title='History is a weapon to be used against your own prejudice'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-1169228918907543644</id><published>2009-06-25T00:33:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T13:02:16.185+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Eyes that watch the morning star seem a little brighter'</title><content type='html'>I hate to complain about the NHS. We're so lucky to have something even close to our health system in comparison to many other countries but you know what? I'm going to complain anyway, because when you hear your doctor talking on the phone to a health professional and telling them that the matter is urgent and they must get in touch immediately, you do not expect to wait over a month for a letter telling you an appointment is available over a month from then. I rang them at this point to tell them that when my doctor said this issue is important, it really is important, so they gave me an earlier appointment and I waited two weeks for that letter. They've now put that appointment back. I will make my feelings strongly known when I arrive at the appointment, although I suppose I ought to bloody pray it happens at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RANT OVER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cor, I haven't listened to Morrissey in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ages&lt;/span&gt;. *dances*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I spoke to Ewan on the phone for quite a while. Those kids are like a boiling, steaming pot of energy from which I can drink. Not in an I'MAGOFF psychic vampire type way but in a grounding, inspiring kind of way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also realised that people (including me) use the exclamation mark way too much. It is only supposed to be used for an indication of a command, or &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;extreme&lt;/span&gt; emotion or astonishment. So there. Stick that in your punctuation pipe and smoke it. Actually, I'd bloody love a punctuation pipe - those of you who know me well will be all too aware I'd be an addict.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's enough for tonight. Hazel and Kevin are visiting soon with the squiddleyiddleykiddleys and I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;physically&lt;/span&gt; can't wait to see them all! &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;-extreme excitement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;pre&gt;'Razors pain you;&lt;br /&gt;Rivers are damp;&lt;br /&gt;Acids stain you;&lt;br /&gt;And drugs cause cramp.&lt;br /&gt;Guns aren't lawful;&lt;br /&gt;Nooses give;&lt;br /&gt;Gas smells awful;&lt;br /&gt;You might as well live.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-1169228918907543644?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1169228918907543644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=1169228918907543644' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1169228918907543644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/1169228918907543644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/06/eyes-that-wath-morning-star-seem-little.html' title='&apos;Eyes that watch the morning star seem a little brighter&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5360347484331254670</id><published>2009-06-21T22:21:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T22:26:13.320+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Don't wanna be a hollow man'</title><content type='html'>Richard Cribben. You were the first resident I really took to at Lennox Wood. Many people didn't understand you but to this day, you were wonderful to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could have known you when you were of stable mind and under less stressful circumstances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are not forgotten. You fought for your country but the fight for your mind you lost and I wish I could have done more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you can hear me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wherever you are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5360347484331254670?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5360347484331254670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5360347484331254670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5360347484331254670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5360347484331254670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/06/dont-wanna-be-hollow-man.html' title='&apos;Don&apos;t wanna be a hollow man&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-293500393385633415.post-5923519711807076145</id><published>2009-06-19T13:24:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T13:34:40.036+01:00</updated><title type='text'>'Only dull people are brilliant at breakfast'</title><content type='html'>Heidi-ho campers. Yesterday mum and dad visited and we went to the Black Country Museum, we went down a mine which beat some of my claustrophobia into submission!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so exhauted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I've just seen &lt;a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/the_press_office/Presidential-Proclamation-LGBT-Pride-Month/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Go Obama!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/293500393385633415-5923519711807076145?l=brangwyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5923519711807076145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=293500393385633415&amp;postID=5923519711807076145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5923519711807076145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/293500393385633415/posts/default/5923519711807076145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brangwyn.blogspot.com/2009/06/only-dull-people-are-brilliant-at.html' title='&apos;Only dull people are brilliant at breakfast&apos;'/><author><name>Calamity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12723560786261965011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_26LvMDRKhEo/S-_s3gkUb3I/AAAAAAAAACo/cVJIBmIlHrM/S220/2900_93753787348_706182348_2863782_7004440_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
