VISIT THE HIPPY'S NEW SITE: Spend some time chilling out with the hippy...He used to be "the most shroomtastic stoner on the internet!" until the UK banned fresh magic mushrooms. He's still "the biggest internet celebrity you've never heard of!" He'll make you laugh, he'll make you think...he'll make you wish you were a hippy too!

Wednesday, June 30, 2004

Hey ho...

It's the middle of the night, the hippy's at work. Not a bad night actually, my third one out of nine in a row. I'm a third of the way towards the end now. Yawn.

I've decided to look at this mini-work marathon as a little endurance test. It's a long time since I've worked this much so it's good to know I still can do it. Old age hasn't defeated me yet! It's 114 hours over nine nights, child's play really.

Back in the day, I was work-mad and can recall doing runs of as many as 20 in a row. Nine's a piece of cake, easy-peasy, lemon squeezy. This hippy can take it.

So how about that handover of power in Iraq on Monday, eh? I was working and we didn't expect the date to be moved forward. It was total meltdown. Everyone was caught off guard.

Tell me this: If the situation is so great in Iraq, why was the formal handover of power done without any advance notice, in secret, away from the media? Simple, because the handover was meaningless and the situation on the ground is just as bad or worse than it's ever been. It has to be said, but no one is saying it loud enough to heard.

I listened to Tony Blair waffling on about it. He said that with the exception of security and electricity, the situation there has greatly improved, or something to that effect.


What he is saying is that it's unsafe for Iraqis to leave their homes or they very well might be killed. So you can't go out and you have to stay home. There's no electricity, so there they are, sitting at home, all the time, in the dark. Sounds like the perfect existence to me. You could say at least its summer and the sun is shining for a good part of the day. True, but in Baghdad that means the temp hits about 45 degrees celsius and no ac/dc means no aircon.

You would have to be brain-dead not to see through their blatant misrepresentations. I know I am the king of cynicism, but come on! The handover of power was symbolic at best, the Americans will still be pulling the strings. How in control would you feel if you had 150,000 troops camping out in your country? Don't believe the lies gang!

No news on my dad, though working nights is not conducive to getting any. I don't want to phone my mother while I'm working, it's just to difficult and emotional to risk falling apart here. And my younger brother's been away for a day or so, though he's back now, so if she had tried to reach him with news, she wouldn't have gotten him. Maybe I'll hear something soon.

Tube strike! If you are lucky enough to live in London, you'll know that the Underground workers are staging a 24 hour walk out, which began on Tuesday night. I get taxis provided by my employers, that is, if there are any to be had! Demand is obviously high...I hope I get home in the morning, and back in tonight.

I haven't given a shroom-growing update in a while, so I thought I would take moment to catch you up. One of the 2 kits I've got left hasn't produced anything in well over a week, I think it is spent. The other continues to provide a few shroomies every week or so, but will be finished soon too. Once the 2nd one is finished I can clean out the propagator and put it away. Then I'll take a break from growing.

I haven't "capped" any in a while and reckon once the last kit is done and they are ready, I'll make up a last batch of my special brain medicine. That means I'll have somewhere in the region of 15 strong (or 20 medium, or 30 light) doses all ready to go. I'll be set for a while.

My plan is wait until I've used up most of it, then move onto the previously mentioned Copelandia strain, but that will be months away.

On the tripping front, I've got a couple of possible target dates next week to get off my face. As always, I am in dire need of my special brain medicine, though some might question my logic of taking some when I am waiting for a phone call at any minute to tell me my father's dead. Perhaps I should question my logic as well.

The "Shroom with the Hippy" contest continues, but still no winner. I've made the date flexible, so now there's no deadline! You can enter anytime you wish! The link remains on this page, bet you can find it!

I was in my local supermarket on Monday morning, after work, wound-up, tired, and cranky. There was a much older gentleman in the queue in front of me, who continued to chat to the till-person long after he paid for and bagged up his goods. I could feel myself becoming increasingly pissed off by this unnecessary delay to the point where I nearly snapped.

I say "nearly" because I didn't snap. I couldn't. Not when I really thought about what was really transpiring.

I've witnessed scenes like this before, lonely elderly people desperately trying to make conversation with the check-out staff. When it hit me that the man was sad and on his own and this was probably the only human interaction he might have that day, or even this week, I practically burst out crying. That could be me some day, though if I'm lucky I won't live that long.

I like to pretend I'm some hard-ass motherfucker, but in reality, I just a big sensitive softy. Bless.

Saturday, June 26, 2004

I promised I would post something on my blog today and now I'm wishing I hadn't. I'm not in a very good mood...that's an understatement, if ever I wrote one.

My dad is dying, really dying. My younger brother had a distressing telephone call from my mother. That's what she said to him, "he's dying". She's never used those words before. She begged him to come back to "say goodbye".

My three half-siblings are all there. They're going to get to say "good bye". My younger brother and I are not there, and we're not going to be. We don't get to say shit.

I knew it last Sunday, on Father's Day quite ironically, that it was my last conversation with my dad. Calling it a conversation is being very generous and disingenuous, it lasted less than thirty seconds. He just kept telling me how much he was shaking.

He's having a horrible, long, drawn out death, something I wouldn't wish for anyone. I could talk about my guilt, my cowardice, my inflexibility or my reasons for not being there, but you've read it all before. Life doesn't ever work out the way you expect, yet we still foster our own warped expectations, time and time again. Expectations are for suckers.

My father was always a bit death obsessed, he expected to drop dead one day from a heart attack. He didn't. Instead, he had angioplasty a couple of times, and a quadruple bypass. If nature had its say, he would have been dead 15 years ago.

So the last 15 years were bonus extra time. He didn't count on my mother becoming so ill, no one did. Her illness was the reason he wanted to continue living and being strong and again, ironically, contributed to his illness. I'm sure if he didn't have to spend the last 2 years caring for her, he wouldn't be this sick now.

He refused to hire any help to care for my mother for the longest time. He insisted he do it himself. That was him saving money, but for what I don't know. He lasted about a year on his own, before it became too much for him and he hired a live-in health assistant. What good is the money he saved now?

My mother, my poor mother is the one who will suffer the most in all this. I imagine my half-siblings won't even let my dad's body go cold before they are packing her away to some hell-hole of a nursing home, stripping the house of valuables and selling it all off. I bet they can't wait.

My three half-siblings have won; my younger brother and I don't even exist anymore. That's what they always wanted and now they got it. I'm sure they're pleased we are not involved, thrilled even, though I bet they are hiding their glee with false criticism and outrage. I imagine they'd have lots to say if I gave them the chance, but I won't though. If they call, I'll hang right up on them.

I'm sure this is not totally the outcome they were expecting either, they must have anticipated more of a fight. I'm sure they were hoping to give us a piece of their limited minds as well. They can't have it both ways. Victory has to be taken on the terms offered, not on the terms you expect. They wanted desperately to be in charge, they wanted control of all of this. Be careful what you wish for, the saying goes, you might get it.

I'm sure they didn't expect to be "saddled" with their invalid stepmother. I wish they weren't, it's worse than I expected, but it's never really been in my hands. Expectations seem to be a theme today for me.

I can offer my mother no comfort, no solace, no help, nothing really. I can't be there for her, won't be there for her. This was all predetermined the moment I was conceived, but no one had the clear vision to see it, not even me. My family fell apart years ago really, but no one ever acknowledged the broken pieces. Now, they won't be able to hide from the wreckage. Funny, but it seems like I will.

My dad is dying and I can do nothing, my mother is helpless and I can do nothing. My grief is building, I can feel it rising like bile in the back of my throat. What solace will my brother and I have? All of this is theatre of the mind for us, we really can only imagine the misery.

I don't think any of us expected it to be like this, expectation is just another word for disappointment. As I sit here on this rainy Saturday afternoon in fabulous north London, a million miles away from my childhood, my family, my dying father and bed-ridden mother, I can't help thinking that none of us deserve any of this and that if there's a god, he's a motherfucking cunt.

Friday, June 25, 2004

I'm back; did anyone miss me?

It's Friday morning, wait, nearly Friday afternoon, I've been awake since about 4:30pm on Friday. I'm surprisingly wide-awake actually. If you factor in the spliff, it's a goddamn miracle!

So much to write about, where shall I start?

How about where I left off on Monday...I woke up Monday evening and the first thing I did was ingest some of my special brain medicine. I took a big, fat dose, 20 capsules. These came from a new batch, made from Hawaiian p.cubes, the strain I have been cultivating recently. Even though I took so many caps, the net weight of the dose was 5.4grams, which is right around my regular dose.

The Hawaiians are strong, stronger than my usual Mexicans and the trip kicked-in much faster than I expected. It was a very introspective trip, no music videos or other distractions, I just drifted around in my own head. I was still very tired on Monday night and I am sure that played a part in the experience as well.

Once I was peaking, I felt a strong urge to stretch out on the sofa, close my eyes and just be inside my drug-fucked mind. I'm struggling now to recall the journey, which is odd because during the trip I found it all very vivid. It was like my imagination was in hyper-drive and I was in some sort of extra-reality.

At one point, I was close to unlocking all the secrets of the universe, every single mystery was about to be revealed...or was revealed...I'm just not sure, I faded out towards the end and fell asleep. Bummer man. I could have known all, instead I still just some dumb-fuck hippy.

It wasn't my usual sort of experience. Normally when I shroom, it's all happy and fun and my living room turns into Disneyland. This was nothing like that. It was enjoyable in a dark and twisted sort of way and I suppose I had the sort of trip I needed that day. Working as much as I have done, with more, more, MORE to come, I needed some sort of release valve.

Also, I had a slight cold come on Monday morning, which might have had an effect on both my trip and my sleepiness.

I slept from Tuesday night until nearly Wednesday evening in advance of working that night. That helped shake the cold more than anything else would have done. Its simple, decent rest cures most things. I’m nearly over it now.

The question of my immediate occupational future was answered this week. I'm sure you are as relieved as I am to learn this. I was offered a contract from one of my two employers and I've said yes. Soon I will be working exclusively with them. They have been giving me plenty of work and say there's plenty more to come. The contract will make the arrangement formal. Sounds good to me. It also comes with some benefits, like pro-rata holiday and sick pay. It could be the first step back to a proper full time job.

The other company doesn't know any of this yet. Shhhhh, it is still a secret.

To be honest, I am a bit pissed off with them. For starters, they still haven't paid me for the work I did in May. It's nearly July now. Also, as I've mentioned that the hours are very long and the pay is not great. The other thing is they said they would have loads of work for me. False. They are only throwing a few shifts a month my way, at least they have done for the last couple of months. Put it this way, if it was my only job, I couldn't live on it.

There's really no contest, one is clearly better, and that's the one I'm choosing. I can work less, make more and enjoy it at the same time.

Company two just offered me a bunch of shifts, 3 in July, which I have already refused and 7 in August, which I have not said "no" to yet. I haven't said "yes" either. They were not impressed. Tough.

I've got 5 more shifts with them over the next few weeks and I am really wishing I didn't, I kind of dreading them. They are just sooooo long, 14 hours of long. But I've agreed to do them, and I will, even if I know they will take forever to pay me. After these, I don't think I will be working for them any more. I'm kind of relieved.

Euro 2004. If you were supporting England, like the hippy, you will not be very happy this morning. You can blame the Swiss referee, you can blame Beckham for missing the penalty, you could even blame Wayne Rooney for getting injured, but the sad, simple fact is: England lost. At the end. Of the match. Tell me this hasn't happened before and I'll call you a liar.

I knew I was setting myself up for disappointment, but I went along with it anyway. Oh well. Thankfully, like most things in life, I don't take any of it too seriously. You shouldn't either; life is too short.

Take a big hint from the hippy, don't support Tim Henman at Wimbledon, he always disappoints, especially a hometown crowd. He'll crash out early, he always does.

I met him once, I won't bore you with the details. He's a complete toss-pot, up his own ass and mean to children. I saw that part myself, so sue me. You'll have to find me first. Even I'm not mean to children! He's a class A cunt. Support Tim Henman and you support a loser.

Stick to Big Brother. I won't argue that it's been a bit duller since the excitement of last week’s big brawl, but you must realise that the producers needed to calm the situation in the house down, or they risked blowing the entire run. No one wants to see it end early, do they? I didn't think so. Be patient, the excitement will crank up again, I'm sure.

The hippy says: Vanessa will be leaving tonight. Bye bye 'nessa! You cold bitch. You should have shagged Jason anyway.

Beverly Knight. Wicked tune, a stomping rocker called "Come As You Are." Nothing to do with the Nirvana track, but it will surprise you. It's got crashing guitars and a thumping beat. It wasn't what I expected from her. Check it out if you get the chance.

My dad went into the hospital a couple of days ago. My younger brother heard this from my mother. He heard lots of other things, but she's difficult to understand, so he didn't get much more than that. They think he might have pneumonia, again. I just hope he's not suffering, I hope he's not in any pain. I'll try to speak to my mom later today to get an update. I'll leave this one alone for now.

I'm finally running out of steam and will be taking a wee nap soon. If I'm a good hippy, I'll come back tomorrow and share more of my wild and wonderful adventures with you. Pop some popcorn, I'm sure it will be a corker.

Monday, June 21, 2004

La la la.

Last night of five, yipppee for the hippy! Come 7am, I am finished and on the tube, by 8am I'm home, spliff in hand, feet-up and a new episode of the Simpsons to enjoy!

My younger brother is dropping by for a quick visit, then after that it's hippy nap time. When I wake up, I think I am going to take a large dose of shrooms and trip my head off. Now that's what I call a Monday night!

Beyond that, my day is looking pretty relaxed, as all of my days off should be!

I haven't decided if I'm going to watch the England v Croatia Euro2004 match or not, since I will be off my face, it probably wouldn't be as much fun as MTV...

And since I put the FUN in fungus, I think music videos are the way to go. Or hardcore porn, which could be entertaining while shroomed, but sadly I don't have any videos at the moment.

So here's a transition for you, from hardcore porn to my dying father...

I phoned him on Sunday to wish him a happy father's day. He was only on the phone with me for about :30 seconds and all he could keep telling me is that he shakes all the time, even when he is lying in bed. Then he handed the phone over to my mother.

I only got about a third of what she said, as she was particularly difficult to understand. Besides asking about my work (which is a regular topic as work is more important to my parents than even my health) and telling me something about my father seeing some doctor this week and she would phone to tell me or my brother the outcome.

It's all very fucking depressing and I just don't know what more I can say. I think I try to keep it out of my mind as much as I can, which is pretty shitty of me. What can I say, I even disappoint myself.

Roll on 7am, roll on a night of shrooming!

Saturday, June 19, 2004

I haven't been here in a few days, but I warned you all I wouldn't. I'm working hard yet hardly working, there hasn't been much to do tonight. Yes, I am blogging from work, which is a bit risky, since no one here knows about my secret internet identity.

It's not that big a deal, should someone discover who I am, I'm not ashamed or embarrassed by anything I've written, but there is something to be said for remaining anonymous. I can say whatever the fuck I want.

Big Brother. Big Bother. If you haven't heard the big news from the house (and if you haven't, you must not pay much attention to the media), there was a huge row on Wednesday night, which was broken up by the security guards. It was that bad.

I was working that night and had the live feed piped to my desk as the fight started. They cut the coverage for over an hour. As BB events go, it was pretty exciting, even non-viewers showed interest as this was unfolding.

I've caught lots of classic BB moments live, thanks to working nights, right from the first series. BB is perfect for tv junkies like myself, because it generates hours and hours of television.

As I predicted, so far, this year's BB is the best yet, though there are concerns from the serious, fan-geeks that it peaked too early. My feeling is they have done detailed pre-production and even more interesting twists and turns are to come in the ensuing weeks. If you are not watching, it's not too late, you can still jump on the BB5 bandwagon!

Work is going well, people continue to be happy with my performance at this job. I'm getting loads of work here at job number one, 15 shifts this month and eleven booked for July already. Keep 'em coming, I want the dosh!

I'm still considering what to do with the 2nd job. The truth is I'm not getting all that much from them, I had 4 shifts with them this month (and went off-sick for three of them) and only 5 in July. The shift is too long, the money too low, but I shouldn't let it go until I am certain that things are solid with the other one. Oh the trials and tribulations of a freelance media-whore!

Shrooms, I'm missing them. It's been weeks since my last trip. It's been so long that I can't remember exactly when my last experience was...I'd need to search this blog to come up with it. I finish this run of shifts on Monday morning and the plan is to have a bit of a nap, then shroom the evening away.

Mrs. Hippy is visiting her family this weekend and not back till Tuesday, so Monday night is my night to party. Not that I can't take them when she is around, but the fact is it wouldn't be fun for her to watch me completely off my face all night. Also, since I am working so much, the time I do spend with her is more limited, so I should be relatively sober when I do.

That's not to say I don't still smoke dope continuously, because I do. I've been a bit nervous about partaking at work, though have snuck the odd, crafty spliff. I just need to be careful, I have a good gig here. Smoking has to come 2nd to working; without working, there would be no spliff!

It's Father's Day tomorrow and that means it's hippy confessional time.

I've not spoken to my dad for about 4 weeks, which I think is the longest I've ever left it. He and my mom have been in touch with my younger brother, but not me. I don't know why. I'll be phoning him on Sunday evening to wish him a happy father's day.

Which is a lie, because it's not a happy father's day at all, is it? My brother and I are here in London and he's slowly dying of cancer. Happy my fucking ass.

And here's my confession: When I went to the card shop to pick one out for my father, I just couldn't do it. I walked out near tears. There were no appropriate cards, the inscriptions were all shit. "Have the best father's day ever", "Relax and enjoy your special day", you get the idea. I just couldn't do it. I'm the worst son ever.

Tuesday, June 15, 2004

When I started this blog, (WOW!) nearly 3 months ago, it was because I wanted something to do with my time during a period of prolonged unemployment. Things couldn't have turned around more since then! I've got more work then I know what to do with; feast or famine is just the way it goes I guess.

Instead of relaxing tomorrow and Thursday as I had planned (as well as shrooming my socks off), I'm working. Actually, starting on Weds, I'm working 16 of the next 20 nights. Yeeeehaaaa! Put it all down to my clever diary secretary oh wait, that's me.

I can't believe I have so much in such a short time. I'll be fine as long as I'm disciplined about coming home and sleeping, but I fear this blog will suffer most.

Even funnier on the work front, my mobile phone rang a little while ago. It was someone from the personnel department of a company I sent my CV to last December; a scant seven months ago! They were offering a staff job and wanted to me to have an interview and take a writing test. I told them "no thanks", but they said if I changed my mind, to re-apply via their website. I'm happy being freelance for now.

I know I'm taking too much work, but I reckon it's better to grab it while it's being offered. That's the downside to freelancing, no real security. As long as people get sick and take holidays, I'll be just fine!

Did ya watch the footie on Sunday? I did, and I bet that surprises you. I'm not really a football fan. I can't be bothered with the Premiership; professional sport leaves me a bit cold. Bored, more like it. International football is more interesting and yes, I'm supporting England. It was a depressing end to the match against France, but not altogether unexpected.

The England side has a habit of disappointing their fans. They don't mean to, actually, I'm sure they would prefer to win. They just don't. If you don't want to be disappointed, watch Big Brother instead!

There's no chance of disappointment with BB, 'cause you know from the start that all twelve contestants are losers. They can't let you down. The same can't be said for the national football team.

I took a taxi into work on Sunday night, which was not cheap, but is tax deductible. I decided that aside from the heat, it was best to avoid the tube on a match night. I will do the same whenever England is playing and I'm working. It makes good sense.

The simple fact is that the authorities prevented nearly three thousand "known and suspected football hooligans" from travelling to Portugal for Euro2004. So if they are not in Portugal, where are they? They're here in the UK, looking to kick YOUR head in. Not only is their team losing (granted after only one game), but they couldn't even go kick in Johnny Foreigner's skull, so they have to make do with who-ever they can find.

Don't believe me? Check this out ARTICLE from a very well known and respected news agency.

And if you think keeping the hardcore bampots from travelling has kept things calm in Portugal, think again. Better yet, read another REPORT from the same agency on the fun and games abroad.

One side effect of all of the work I've got over the next 3 weeks is that I won't have as much time as I would like to blog. Those of you who check for updates daily (do you exist?) will just have to make the best of a bad situation. You could always email me at for a personal update on my life. But you won’t, you never do. Love me or hate me, I'm still the northlondonhippy.

Saturday, June 12, 2004

I don't know what I'm doing here right now, I've got to be out the door again in around 7 hours. I must be craaaazzzzzzeeeeee......

Well, I am crazy, but that's not really the point. And I do know why I'm here, it's so I can rave a bit about Big Brother. I hope you took the hippy's advice and tuned in. Last night's fake eviction show was ace!

I told ya this year's was going to be good, but it's looking like it could be the best series yet...! I knew they would stock the house with a group of screaming-howler wanna-be's, but they've exceeded even my elevated expectations.

Last night there was drama, surprises, laughter and tears; I only laughed, the drama, suprises and crying was all down to the housemates. I'll save my tears for when the series ends. Boo fucking hoo.

The British public actually got the concept of the fake eviction and voted wisely, Emma and Michelle are now ensconced in the BB bedsit. I can't begin to describe this excellent twist. I only hope they can maintain this level of intensity as the weeks pass and there are fewer people.

Not only that, but we were treated to the site of Michelle sitting on the bog, having a "tinkle", and Emma's breasts bouncing out of her top repeatedly. Reality tv does not get better than this!

Not watching? Don't be a twat, it's not too late to join the fun! Stop pretending you're some highbrow, well-cultured member of society and give in to temptation. Tell 'em the hippy sent you!

And while I'm here, don't forget the "Shroom with the hippy contest". I've added a link on the top right of this very page, so you have no excuse not to send in your entry. The emails are pouring in thick and fast and competetion is fierce. Ummm, to tell the truth, if you're quick (or even not so quick), you could be my first contestant. At least that makes the odds of you being the winner actually quite high, but not as high as you'll be when you redeem your prize!

Friday, June 11, 2004

Friday morning, 10am and the hippy is semi-conscious. Blame the warm weather, I'm just not sleeping well at all.

My cleaner is here, with a friend, recall she is becoming a plumber. She is installing an outside water tap for me today, to make it easier to water the garden. It's something I've wanted to do for years.

This is her fourth attempt at installing it, or rather, planning to install it. The previous three arrangements didn't pan out, I don't really know why. Or care.

"Why" is a silly question most of the time, I rarely ask "why". Does it matter why it's taken 4 attempts to install the tap? No! Telling me why is wasting my time.

I'm result orientated, so either something happens, or it doesn't. Say your favourite football team is planning an important match, a cup final even. Whether they lose because of penalties, or "the hand of god", it doesn't matter, they still lost.

Sorry about the football analogy, but with Euro2004 starting, it's a bit hard to escape. Don't blame me if England crash out early! I'm not really a fan.

The papers here are reporting that the Portuguese will not be arresting anyone for possession or consumption of marijuana during the tournament. Big fucking deal! That's the way it works in Portugal all the time, it is decriminalised there, like it is suppose to be here. Well, nearly anyway, since they rescheduled weed to class "C".

God, I could use a spliff right about now! But alas, with my cleaner and her friend here, it just ain't an option. I've got to go out in a little while, I'll sneak one while I walk to the tube.

I am too tired for this. Maybe I'll come back later.

Thursday, June 10, 2004

Twice in one day, oh hippy you are spoiling us.

I'm only back because I am bored. I've done everything that needs doing today. I'd shroom, but I've got a nice dinner planned with Mrs. Hippy tonight, so fasting is not an option.

I had planned on shrooming this Saturday, but the aforementioned additional and much needed work this weekend means that the opportunity has gone away. That's OK, there's always next week.

Recall a while ago, I considered running a contest, "Win an afternoon/evening of shrooming with the northlondonhippy". Well, reaction to that idea has muted at best...ok, Mrs. Hippy and my younger brother both said I was "nuts". Did they only just figure this out? I haven't heard from anyone else.

So I've decided what the heck, let's run a contest. There's not much time, as the 2 dates I would be available to shroom with the winner are Thursday the 17th or Monday the 21st of June.

If you are a regular reader, you'll know I've mentioned this before.

Well, right in the middle of blogging this very entry, I did it! I've made the contest official!

Click here for details.

I'm looking forward to receiving *your* entry!
Hey hey! The hippy is IN!

I was looking at an easy, relaxing, shroom-filled weekend, but no such luck! Instead, I'm working Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights, in other words, better luck! I don't make any money when I shroom, but I do when I work, result!

I had to go off-sick for a few shifts at the other job (I'll explain shortly)and that meant I actually lost money this month. This is the downside of self-employment. Working these extra shifts this weekend means I've nearly made up the shortfall. I think I can call the work I lost a loss; I was confirmed to work them and didn't, so that should come off my profits and offset some tax, result again. I'm getting the hang of this!

Ok, the reason your faithful hippy had to miss out on some work is simple: I really was unwell. I haven't been well for the last few weeks or so. I've had belly troubles.

I've been having trouble keeping food down. Whenever I've eaten in the last few weeks, I've felt uncomfortably full, even if all I've had is a small amount. A full meal and I would feel nauseous and throw-up, everything I've eaten. This purging of my meals reached its peak last week, in the middle of a 14-hour shift at my other job. I had to go home at 2am. Not good.

Due to this puking, I had to hand back two additional shifts there as well, but managed to work 2 shifts at the first job. Simple, they are shorter, and I didn't eat at all while I was there. You can't throw-up what you haven't eaten.

Flash-forward to Monday, I managed to get appointment with my GP. I thought I had some sort of tummy bug or something, but he quickly saw that this was not the case.

I believe I've mentioned here that I was born with a HIATUS HERNIA. Well, my doctor thinks my present troubles are directly related to it. He thinks the hernia has probably gotten worse, or it's just an accumulation of damage done to my stomach from years of chronic heartburn.

That's the only symptom I've ever really had from it, chronic, severe heartburn. I've controlled the condition with medication for 28 years, I was first diagnosed what I was 13 years old. That's a long time!

My doc changed the medication I take, hoping to calm it down in the short term, it will take a week or so to see if this works. In the longer term, if it has gotten worse, really worse, I could actually require surgery to correct. This is only done in extreme cases and it's looking like mine might qualify. Oh dear.

Anyway, I go back to my doctor in a fortnight and more than likely he will refer me to a specialist for further tests. Oh joy. At least, if I do need the surgery, it should correct it once and for all. Maybe I wouldn't need to take the medication any more. That would be good.

So you see, being the northlondonhippy isn't all fun and games. It should be though, shouldn't it?

Tuesday, June 08, 2004

Damn, it's hot. The weatherbunny on SKY News says its do to freakish hot weather being blown up from Africa, across Spain and into the UK. Sure it is.

They want us to think that's all it is, but really the lizard people who really run the world just wanted to have a nice outdoor BBQ in Hyde Park today, so they turned up global warming thermostat a few degrees.

Don't laugh, there are wacky and weird websites out there that will have worse reported as fact. This, however is not one of them.

So it's a bit hot, it's not the first time, it didn't even set a record. It is early in the season for weather like this, but it is not unheard of, is it?

Personally, I'm not a big fan of warm weather, especially here in sunny north London. Where I grew up, we had very hot, humid summers, but just about anywhere you would go had air conditioning.

Ahhh, aircon, it might be destroying the environment, but at least you could stay comfortable in this kind of weather. It's not very popular here in the UK and practically unheard of in people's homes.

I've looked into purchasing one, but they are either too expensive or cumbersome or both. Last summer, we had a heat wave in August that was one of the worst on record. I don't know how I'm going to deal with it if it happens again this year. I'm suffering already.

The hippy house seems to retain the heat for some reason. Right now, in my living room, with windows open and a fan blowing, it's already 31 degrees Celsius. My bedroom is about the same temp. The house is around 100 years old and I guess the brickwork turns the whole place into a giant kiln.

Enough about this heat, writing about it is not cooling me off at all.

Perhaps I'll make a hippy iced-coffee. Here's my secret recipe for an iced vanilla latte:

Pour a large, fresh espresso over ice into a cocktail shaker. Add vanilla syrup, and cold milk, then give it a shake. For extra coldness, put the cocktail shaker into the fridge for a while, or pour the mixture into a glass packed with ice. Kick back, sip and enjoy!

I guess it's not that secret. And what do you mean you don't have an espresso maker or cocktail shaker? They're both cheap additions to your kitchen toys, so you have no excuses.

Monday, June 07, 2004

It's 20 minutes to 2am on Sunday night; I'm working. Well, in a fashion, there's actually not a helluva lot for me to do.

I know, I know, I haven't visited in a couple of days. My only excuse is I haven't felt like it. Discipline is not one of my strong points, besides I didn't have much to say. Well, I do tonight.

I'm quite upset actually. I walked into work tonight to discover that an old friend and colleague of mine was killed today. He was shot. If you're that bothered, it won't take much to search the net to find out what I'm on about.

I hadn't seen him in a few years. I haven't really seen anyone in a few years. I'm anti-social, what can I say.

There was a party recently, organised by my some former colleagues to mark an anniversary of the start of the company. I was one of the "founders" but didn't attend. I'm VERY anti-social actually.

I expect my old friend, who was shot, was probably there. He was always very social and I would bet he attended. It would have been my last chance to see him. How was I supposed to know?

You know how when someone dies, everyone says nice things about them, even if they were a jerk? Witness the glowing tributes being paid to former US president Ronald Reagan. Well, with my friend, there's no need to be false-nice; he genuinely was a really good person.

He was always smiling, easy to work with, helpful and generally regarded a decent bloke. It's always the good people who get killed, the cunts in my industry seem to be bullet-proof.

He's the fourth mate of mine to be killed in the field in the last 5 years. When you go to work, do your colleagues ever get killed? Mine do. More often then they should.

Whinge, whinge, whinge. No, hippy, this is not about you! My friend has a wife, and all of my sympathies are with her. Her life changed dramatically tonight, in ways I could never, ever understand. A knock on the door and a minute later, everything's different, forever. I can't possibly imagine what she must be going through.

I know I keep saying life is shit, but how can I not? The proof is all around me.

I used to travel to hotspots as well, foolishly I might add. I've spent time in Somalia, Bosnia and Sierra Leone, all places where journalists have been killed. I lost 2 friends of mine in Sierra Leone and another in Kosovo. I really need to find a new job where my mates don't get killed! At least I don't travel anymore; not that anyone has asked me recently, which is just as well. You couldn't pay me enough to go to Baghdad or Riyadh right now. And I’m greedy.

But I hear Kabul is quite nice these days, with boutique hotels and gourmet food.

Fucking hell. Don't even think about it. Travelling on the tube is dangerous enough.

To continue with the doom and gloom, my younger brother heard from my father this evening. To recap, I haven't spoken to him in just over 3 weeks. He's dying of cancer.

He still sounds like shit, says my brother and is even more cantankerous and mean, if that is possible. The conversation was compared to "pulling teeth" by my brother in that he doesn't offer anything. And you keep asking questions and getting one-word answers.

On the back of that conversation, my brother decided to contact an aunt and uncle of ours (on our mother's side) to see what info he could get as they visit my parents occasionally. What a fucking mistake.

My uncle, who is a giant mountain of a man, you've never seen anyone as fat as him outside the Guinness Book of World Records, was quite cunty to my brother. He didn't get to speak to my aunt, who's my mother's sister. I don’t know why, maybe she wasn’t home.

Instead of listening to anything my brother had to say, or even talking about the situation, all my fat uncle could do is repeatedly tell my brother that we both should really be over there right now, helping out.


It's driving my brother and I absolutely mad that we can't do anything to help, can't be there. What the fuck do they think? If I could contribute anything to the situation, anything at all, don't they think I would be there?

My family is fucked. That's succinct and to the point. Somehow either the message doesn’t get passed on, or they're garbled, or everyone likes to pretend that everything's fine. I don't really know why, but no one seems to have even half a clue why things are the way they are. Or worse, they think it should all be put aside in times of crisis.

Fuck that and fuck them.

Because of all the unresolved shit with my older half-siblings, the situation is well and truly beyond repair. I'd need to want to fix it and I don't. If anything, I want to pour petrol all over it and start playing with matches.

And nobody wants to hear that and my rational, sensible side (surprise! I have one) says I should just let it all go. Not be bothered. Deep down, I don't think I am that bothered. Deep down, I know I don't have the energy or interest in arguing with anyone or explaining anything. No one would listen, no one would really care.

My father didn't want to listen to reason anyway, when there was time for it. Now it's too late. Blah blah blah, go smoke a joint or eat some shrooms!

I need to phone him, phone my dad, this week, maybe even Tuesday evening. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm so tired of explaining why I'm not there that I'm just not going to anymore, there's no need. I just want both my parents to know that I love them. That's all really. I wish, wish, wish I could do more.

Mrs. Hippy says I reveal too much about myself in this blog. She's probably right, but why not? I've got nothing to hide, my life has always an open, yet dull book. Sometimes, I can't even be bothered to turn the page.

Saturday, June 05, 2004

Kitten is out! This pleases me, I really hated her. She was the worst contestant from all 5 series and that's really saying something. I hoped, prayed and dreamed they would boot her out. I'm very glad they did.

Kitten? You need to be watching the fifth series of Big Brother here in the UK to know what I am talking about. Kitten was a housemate on the show, a lesbian, anarchist, political activist idiot. I've never disliked someone on a reality show this much. She was ruining it and it will only get better now that she is out.

She was boring and predictable, being loud and acting like a child should not be justification for dominating the coverage. Now that she's out of the way, the other crazies in the house might get some screen time.

OK, so I'm a little obsessed with Big Brother, or so you think...but there are plenty of webmongs worse than me.

The term "webmong" is something I picked up from the POPBITCH website. I picture them as fat, ugly and drooling on the keyboard. Ok I might be a bit fat and ugly, but I really don't drool, well, unless I'm shroomed. I'm not shroomed now.

If you want the news on BB:UK, you could visit the OFFICIAL SITE, which is good for news and the official Channel 4 view of events in the house. But that's not good enough for the true obsessive. Trust me, I'm an amateur.

For the real deal, check out DIGITAL SPY'S unofficial DIGITAL SPY: BIG BROTHER WEBSITE. If you want more than C4 are offering, this is the place to go.

DS is a website devoted to all things televisual and is an excellent resource for info and gossip on technology and sometimes production as well. It has some good forums on digital television, satellite tv and PVRs, like my trusty SKY+. But the DS:BB site is dedicated to all things BB.

Besides news, DS:BB offers HOURLY LIVE UPDATES transcribed by people who watch the live streams obsessively, so you don't have to yourself. It's a good way to catch up on everything. See, I'm not so bad now, am I?

They also have columnists, including former housemate from last year's series JON TICKLE, who was always good for a laugh.

But the best part of the site by far are the PUBLIC FORUMS, which are chock full of the kind of superfans who put me to absolute shame. I've got an ID on there myself, as I thought if I wanted to rant like a madman about BB, that was the best place; more so then here. My ID is n_londonhippy...because they wouldn't allow northlondonhippy - it was too long. At least you know how to find me there now, whoever you are.

I discovered DS:BB during the very first series, someone had posted secret links to lots of webstreams which were not generally available or known about by the general public. Since C4 started charging for the webstreams, I don't bother, but E4 interactive is my friend. I read today you can get it streamed to your mobile phone, if you have the right model. Now it would be cool to see the technology in action, but sadly my T630 wasn't on the list. Small loss.

I've included a link to my blog on my DS profile, so maybe so people might stumble upon it. Same with the EDIT FORUMS, there's a link to this blog on there as well. I'm at a bit of a loss when it comes to promoting this blog, I really don't know what I should to get it noticed. I'm even less sure that I want to get it noticed. Maybe, maybe not.

I'm not normally much of an attention seeker, not in real life or on the net. I like to remain in the background and not get noticed usually. I think my problem with the blog is that I do want people to read it, mainly because I've taken the time to write something, I've made an effort. Whether it's good or bad is not the issue, written words are meant to be read. Suggestions on a postcard. Ok, I'll settle for an email or IM on yahoo. And remember, the comments section is now turned ON.

So if you have magically managed to make it here, congratulations and GO YOU! As always, I welcome your comments and feedback, as long as they are positive. If you want to say something negative, you can just blow me. Especially if you are Britney Spears. Or look like her. Or have any racy pictures of her.

Thursday, June 03, 2004

I just had a private screening of Shrek 2 and I enjoyed it far more than I expected. It is very good, excellent even and I laughed out loud more than once. I dare say it is even better than the first one. Sorry to start out with that, but I've literally just finished it and am still a bit jazzed. It is really funny.

The problem with my flexible schedule is that I am going back and forth between days and nights and sleeping at weird times. I had a four hour nap today and still feel quite tired. To be honest, I'm not feeling all that great. I think something might actually be wrong, but my doctor is on leave until next week. More details to come when I have them, hopefully it's nothing serious.

I'm always coming up with clever ideas for things to write about, then forgetting them. A clever hippy with short term memory loss would be writing these things down, but I'm not nearly that smart. I do write down real-life things, I think I have mentioned that I make lists of things to do all the time. I'm just not in the habit of jotting down my thoughts, because I always think "well, if the idea is that good, I'll just remember it." Most of the time, I don't.

Who knows how many million-pound ideas I've let slip away because I forgotten them? Not me, because, like I said, I forgot them.

I've been thinking a lot lately about what I would really like to be doing. It's not that I'm fed up with my new work already, far from it. I would even consider a staff job from one of them. But I know what I would like to be doing...

I've got an idea for a television programme, well its a two stage idea really. Part of it is a pioneering technology, which could revolutionize the level of interactivity possible with viewers. The second stage would be to use this technology as part of a new late-night format.

Basically, I would like Channel 4 here in the UK to give me 2 hours every Friday night, 23:30 would do me fine. I want to take back television and put it in your hands, everyone's hands. I want to make the most interactive possible, live entertainment & chat show. I'm selling it short here, I know that, but I don't want to give much away.

Remember The Word, or The Tube, when people used to rush home after the pubs chucked them out to see what was on this week. I know I'm on to a winner and everyone can be a part of it.

The show would be for hip, cool, media savvy people who are tired of bullshit television. If you come on my show as a guest, we all know you're trying to punt something, we're not going to lie about it. I'd want the coolest bands, the edgy-ist comedians, people in the news, once the set's built and we're on the air, we can do any goddamn thing we want. And anyone can be a part of it, we'd have a small audience in the studio and so many ways for people at home to participate that you just won't have any excuse not to join the fun.

My problem is a lack of connections to this end of the industry, though like most things, I am sure it's not insurmountable. Channel 4 have loads of resources on their website about submitting proposals for commissions. I'm just one fuckwit on my own, without funding, or a production company, backing, anything. So approaching C4 directly is not an option.

I've decided C4 is the best bet for this because of the direction I want to take it and also I think they would give me the freedom to make the show I am imagining.

So my only real option is to take it to an established production company. I've thought about this at length and have settled on the one company that would get the idea, have the resources to put together the technology side, then sell the format over-seas. Yes, I really believe that the interactive angle I've got in mind is that good. And once the backbone of the tech is in place, you could use if for other programmes, even lease it out to people to use occasionally.

I'm saying too much here, but it's an idea I am excited about, it's just getting that initial 5-10 minutes with the right person. I think I should put a few hours this week into moving this forward, I know if I can pitch it, someone will say "yes".

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?