New Look

This is the all new look for Brain Splats, very different than that lovely 60's wallpaper design I had going on, I'm sure you'll agree. The reason for the change? Now that's not really your business is it? It is my blog, and even though it's free, it's still my little piece of cyber-space where I can do what I like (within the limit of decency of course, don't want Jonny Law coming down on me) and as such I can change the design.
Actually, there is no real reason for the change, apart from me being bored and having nothing else to put here. Truth be told, I would like the old design back, but can't find the template so I'm stuck with this depressing black. I suppose I could look at it as being cutting edge and stylish, but that would be a pile of shit. If ever there was a man who fought against things being stylish or hip or fashionable, it's me. I'm not one for all these cold surfaces and sharp corners and minimalist directions. Nope, give me a nice piece of comfortable, rounded clutter any day.
not entirely sure the direction this blog is going in, but there's nothing new in that. I'm sure one day i will have something important to say, but until that day comes you will have to put up with the plentiful rubbish I seem to smear onto this blog.Goodnight.

Oh, and before I forget, here's a picture of Megan Fox in her (painted on) Supergirl shirt. Why? Because it's a friggin' awesome picture and maybe someone will stumble upon my rugged patch of net due to it's inclusion. Here 'tis:

Axe-weilding Cyclepath

Another beautiful summers evening in Manchester finds the faithful inhabitants stuck inside, hidden away from the rain. Not cold though, so the chief winners appear to be the weeds that have invaded my garden, especially that pesky mule weed which I think is closely related to the triffid.

It hasn't been all bad, however, this weather of ours. The last two weeks have been pretty good, allowing for a couple of long cycles to be had. Organised by other people of course, god forbid I go off on my own back, too much effort.

First up was a charming 60 mile cycle to Blackpool. When I say charming, I actually mean really, really sodding annoying. It started off well, myself enjoying the event along with the thousands of other people who thought "Cycle to Blackpool? That'll be a doddle." However, blue skies were to quickly turn to grey (figuratively and actually as it turned out) when my trusty Kona touring bike went toe to toe with a rusty nail and came out on the losing side. This was 30 minutes into the ride, not even past the M60 ring road around Manchester, and I found myself changing an inner tube (badly, may I add) whilst every other rider passed me by with no offer of help forwarded. Bastards.
Then, a whiles later, the bicycle procession had the misfortune to pass through that veritable hell on Earth, Preston. Which was the only point where the skies opened, because as with everything else, the weather is constantly shit in Preston.
Anyway, the cycle ended and Simon was safely found in Blackpool, 3 inner tubes used, 4 punctures encountered; sore legs and out of breath swearing were the orders of the day. Along with the phrase "never cycling again."

Which was a lie as it turned out, for a week later I was on my merry way to Chester, a far more pleasant ride, through country lanes, villages and cows. Delightful. Not even a mention of Preston the entire trip. Nothing much else to report on the Chester run, we set off, we cycled for a good while and then we arrived. End of story.

So, a rather gruelling 62 mile cycle followed by a less rigorous 53 mile jaunt. Not too bad, though I couldn't be confused with a serious cyclist. And my bike is starting to become more than just a rather cumbersome hallway ornament.

Golden Age of Jobbies and Whatsits

So after many years of being content with not really being part of the technology age (actually, 'content' is probably not the right word- try 'downright smug'), I have now hit the proverbial gadget ground with a thud. Granted, I did have my desktop computer- how else would I have been able to communicate with all you lovely people otherwise?- but I was the one who would proclaim loudly that "yes, I know it's an old phone, but I don't need anything else", and "actually, I don't have television", and even "does anyone really need such clear images? Surely VHS was good enough?".

But alas, the last few months have seen the emergence of all sorts of electrical paraphernalia. I sit typing these words on my shiny new laptop, whilst the HD television brings the sound of cable TV into the house, and the iphone rests lovingly within reach. Added to this, a blu-ray player waits patiently in my Amazon basket and the DAB radio brings crystal clear football commentary to my ears.

Why such a change in technological philosophy? New credit card! That, and the fact that yes, images are better in high definition; yes, phones are better when the Internet can be accessed with ease; yes, perhaps even a little bit of tele can be appreciated (only for football mind, I still don't like having the idiot box in my home, that corrupter of minds and purveyor of garbage). Gadgets are good. I guess it's the way of all things, all homes will fill with these electrical whatsits, techno-jobbies will fill cupboards and boxes the length and breadth of the country. There is no escape from it (unless you live in North Korea that is) so it may as well be embraced.
Long live this golden age!

Nice Pics

Having stumbled upon the blog after many long weeks away, I was glimpsing over previous entries and realised there is a distinct lack of pictures floating about. Mostly due to laziness, but nevertheless, I really should adorn my posts with a little bit of visual stimuli. The World Cup 2010 is currently underway, so perhaps that theme could be utilised. But that would just be going along with the crowd. I need to stand out, be an individual. How about some really eye-popping modern art? The only drawback, however, is that I subscribe to 'all art is useless', stolen right from the introduction to The Picture of Dorian Grey, so it wouldn't be fair to either myself or the art in question to follow that route. A nice cute picture of a kid? Not unless I want the rozzers after me for being in possession of child images.
So how about a half-naked lady? That'll do nicely.

Cheerio.

Meanderings and Mutterings for the New Age

What a good title. Really like it. No idea what the rest of this blog will include, but the title sets it off at a reasonably steady pace. The only problem is I don't actually have anything to bring to the table. Nada. Not a sausage. So as you, dear reader, are already switching off and perhaps thinking about whats for tomorrows tea, I shall endeavour to churn out some of my usual crap.

Looking at the title, it seems to suggest that we are currently in the future. Which is a bit of a silly thing to say because if we are in the future then it is actually the present, but as soon as that conclusion is reached then it is in the past, and you find yourself embroiled in the Back to the Future time-line argument once again.
But maybe this is the 'new age'. It is after all 2010, and it is my first blog of said year (I know, I know, it's the end of March so the year is already a quarter of the way through, but you know what? Don't care) so we are now in a new decade of this new millennium, and technology is already at the point where it scares the be-jesus out of me.
Fair enough, we don't have flying cars but still, I used to consider myself no slouch when it came to computers, but what use is my knowledge of an Acorn BBC nowadays? Most kids in the western world have more inkling about whats going on online than I will ever have. Perhaps I hanker for a simpler time, when our lives weren't controlled by computers and mobile phones and ipods, although in saying this I do remember many times as a child when the electricity would go out (we lived in the country) and I would be determined to see out the darkness as painlessly as possible... and often reached for the TV remote. So maybe I'm not all that disconnected from technology after all.

The point of that long-winded, aimless story? No point. I'm sat at work and really bored so am just typing to keep my brain from crusting over. Honestly, 9 days straight in this place is enough to turn a nun to mass murder. Living between the walls in glorious isolation like Steve McQueen sat in the cooler- albeit without the baseball and glove, and perhaps a little less awesome. Not that sitting in solitary in a Nazi POW camp would be awesome. History and countless WWII films have taught me that. Mind you, I wouldn't mind being in the camp where Hogan and his heroes were interned. That seemed like fun. But perhaps not exactly historically correct...

Anyway, back to sense. Or as close as I can get. Alice in Wonderland is currently playing while I sit here banging out these words. Rubbish movie. Jumping on the whole 3D bandwagon. What I want to see is porn 3D. Now there's a money spinning idea if I ever heard one, 3D boobies and everything else, displayed in glorious digital. The people would come from miles around to see such a spectacle. Sure, that was the only reason Avatar was successful, wasn't it? The big blue girl alien kept revealing the slightest sight of a nipple in most of the scenes.

I'll leave you with that thought. I guess I should probably do a little bit of work, though I may just put my feet up and continue with Dickens' Hard Times. Thoroughly recommend it if you haven't had the pleasure.

Simon out.

Oh, by the way, in case you were wondering about tomorrows dinner (I started thinking about it as soon as I typed it, which is probably the reason for this blog being so 'shit'), I would just like to pass for the record that, all being well, I shall be having a burger in the Marble Arch pub. If you haven't had the experience, I urge you all to do so. The finest burger (and may I say chips) to be found in all the Greater Manchester area. Fact. The beer is pretty goddamn outstanding too.