Launched the new website after putting in some serious hours over the last few weeks. The day of the launch was a 12 hour day but the launch itself was rather anti-climatic. just waiting to see if that link to 'Thai girls with big cocks' managed to remain undeleted in the html.

yawn. gosh, I seem to have soiled myself.

Posting on the blogspot dashboard about the 'storm' virus which managed to hijack peoples blogs, leaving links which, if the clinically thick clicked on them, would infect their computer. I've had a load of the same 'storm' emails sent to my account at work, notable for their, according to the bbc, cleverly crafted emails. I wonder if, in the future, as we give more and more personal information away on our social networking sites and wotnot, that we will get more personally crafted emails...for example, 'Dude, what were you thinking of' will certainly not get my attention but something along the lines of 'John, you left the gas on...click here for film of your house burning to the ground' would pipe straight into my anxieties and get me clicking on that infected link faster than you can say 'Trojan Horse, yes please'.

Off to see the Borne Ultimatum this evening, with my chum W. Should be good, first night no less, so expect lots of Borne enthusiasts. Which will either be lots of muscle bound young men or very, very geeky pale people.

For those of you who care, Reynolds new book 'The Prefect' is set in the Glitter Band before the melding plague. Excellent. It also has a great scene which totally captures the feeling that you get when someone says to you 'that last page update you did? I think you actually managed to delete our website'.

aacch, as we Scots like to say. That was a nasty few hours of packing up the remaining crap from the outer storage room (more like the outer fucking limits) into the nice boxes supplied to us by the moving firm. Now its the inner space's turn, as our attention turns to the jungle of wires, obsolete electronics, state of the art consoles, two years worth of new scientists, shares, bank statements, simpsons memorabilia, eldritch war boots and panties that is the storage room. Inner sanctum, my arse - exactly.

Sanctum, was incidently, a comic yarn which I read a few weeks ago. Not bad, but a little disjointed, mind you though, the art work was good.

tired now, must sleep and read some more A. Reynolds latest (The Prefect) before I catch some zzzzz's.