Gotta love the interwebby. London Transport is slowly replacing the old crappy travel cards with new smart cards. You don't have to get the thing out of your wallet - just pass it over the barrier on your way through. Pretty cool and should cut down on the number of retards unable to get through a gate. But. They've called the damn thing an OYSTER CARD. Why? Because they are fucking stupid that's why. I was tickled this morning when I did a search for 'London Oyster Card' and found that the first Google sponsored link was for a web site called FANNYBATTER. I love being British sometimes. Mike is blogging to: mix Cds

London was fun last night. A powercut shut down the train system and trapped a lot of people underground and in lifts. Not quite as much fun for those people I guess. But if you were just strolling around watching the chaos it was pure bliss. People queing like idiots to cram on over crowded buses that only went two more stops. Cars swerving to avoid people on the street as they shoved one another off the pavement in order to get a better look at the underground staff shaking their heads behind locked gates. Jess was trying to get to a blues gig last night but quit that idea once she got to Waterloo and saw the mess. We met up outside Trafalgar Square and watched people get into shouting matches with one another for no good reason. We ate and strolled back to Leicester Square where we jumped on the first train and got back home for around 11pm. The one thing that came out of all that is the obvious fact that people don't have a fucking clue. I suppose you get dependent on the underground when you don't walk anywhere but then you also haven't the slightest idea how London actually fits together once you are removed from the pretty multicoloured lines that normally dictate your journey. Once we got home we began to watch the last few episodes of Farscape and then I made the mistake of watching the opening scene of Versus. It's not the kind of movie you just dip into. Reminded me a lot of Peter Jackson's Bad Taste but with swords and Matrix gags. The next time you come to the house you WILL watch this movie. London seems to be back to normal this morning. People bitching about being stuck on train platforms with nothing to do. Buy a fucking book you ignorant cunts. Speaking of which... Mike is blogging to: mix CDs

Well that was fucking awesome... Mike is blogging to: Versus

Back to work and the real world... 'Work' involves comics and the 'real world' involves talking to girls about Douglas Coupland. Can't complain really... I was pretty much cut off from the rest of the world while playing co-host to the planeteers last week. My keyboard got wrecked too so that caused a further delay in getting back to email etc. I'll pick up on that later this evening. I also seem to have been involved in a message board argument but on a board I no longer post on. Sounds like someone needs to get a fucking life. Must have been less underage girls frequenting libraries in Cleveland this month or maybe someone has just been hitting the fucked up-spine medicine a little too much. I also have a bunch of text messages and phone calls to return. Sorry I've been incommunicado but a house full of crazy Irish girls, a couple of Scots and an American is very time consuming. I also have a pile of pics to post or link to but I'll stagger them. Some of them I need PERMISSION to post because of their 'interesting' content... Here are some of the SAFE ones: Boag has this mad Danzig/Elvis hair thing going on at the moment Jess is looking exceptionally cute. I think I may have to marry her. Mike is blogging to: nothing

Todd bought me this: I would marry him but I fear his heart belongs to another. At least thats what I read on a shop window. He also put his neck on the line by setting straight a few fuckwits: So now that I've met the infamous Toksik in person, I should like to set the record straight in his name: MYTH: Graham is some short, scrawny, red-haired, kilt-wearing Scotch. FACT: Graham is in fact a rather swarthy, imposing figure, approximately 6'2" or thereabouts, resembling a much taller Danzig/Wolverine, with a bit of Elvis thrown in. I think he could probably kick your ass. He is, however, still a Scotsman. MYTH: Graham makes no sense. FACT: On the boards, no. In real life, he has proven himself to be quite lucid. MYTH: Graham is unfunny. FACT: On the boards, possibly not. In real life, he is actually quite hilarious...perhaps one of the funniest chaps whom I have ever met. MYTH: Graham is a rape apologist. FACT: Graham is not a rape apologist. MYTH: Graham does not own a pair of photosensitive large-framed '70s-style aviator glasses. FACT: Graham owns a pair of photosensitive large-framed '70s-style aviator glasses. MYTH: Graham is a right hateful bastage. FACT: Graham is a truly lovable fellow. MYTH: You would hate Graham if you ever met him. FACT: You would like him. Honestly. Couldn't put it better myself. Mike is blogging to: Mission of Burma

Todd, Tain and Orly left under cover of darkness early this morning in a highjacked vehicle. Very strange feeling having the house to ourselves again. Boag is still around London somewhere - probably shaking his Scottish booty at the carnival. Just to prove that Todd made it here in one piece: And to prove that he is a tourist at heart: Boag and Tain play SQUISH THE YANK: First time in a while I wished the coke was PURE ALCOHOL: I am sure more pics will surface. Some are labelled TOP SECRET... But we had a BLAST. Mike is blogging to: Prong

I feel like Wyndham Earle in Twin Peaks. All the pieces are falling into place... Met Tain yesterday and hung out with her until Jess finished work and Dais finished her photo shoot (!). Very cool day. Drinks at the Crobar listening to very bad heavy metal then off again this time to meet Orly. Surprise surprise she is also very cool. Tain and Orly together are formidable. Now we have to go and grab Todd who arrived from the States about 30 minutes ago. Jess and Orly have wisely decided to stay in bed after an evening of drinking and eating whisky fudge... Leaves Tain and I to go pick up the BOY. Today is going to be mental. And then tomorrow Boag and some guy from Thailand arrive... Mike is blogging to: Demented are Go

fuck

Reason I love my job # 516568 I am moonlighting in the medical section. I just had to pull a skeleton out of a box and then try and get the dead bastard back. All the time I'm thinking about the medical warehouse scenes in Return of the Living Dead and wondering if we sell split dogs... Getting a skeleton back into a box is a fine art. You have to fold the legs behind the head. You learn something new every day. Mike is blogging to: nothing

And another thing... (This is going to be a regular moan for a while I think) How difficult is it to look at something and realise that it is UNFUCKABLE with: Hollywood is home to pigfuckers. If you are one of the idiots in the States that enjoyed the movie you should check your bacon sphincter for hollywood semen - now quit emailing me that I am wrong when it is so obvious that I am RIGHT. Mike is blogging to: Linea 77

I forgot to mention the best bit. Just before the lights went down I overheard a woman's voice: "You mean it's based on a comic? Like Calvin and Hobbes?"

I really wanted to enjoy The League of Extraordinary Gentleman. In fact for the first ten minutes I thought they had got it right. Germans in a tank storming the bank of England while Victorian bobbies hammer on the side of the machine with truncheons... that got the spirit of the book just right. All down hill after there though. Connery seemed to need a stunt double for anything more strenuous that putting his hat on. I liked his hat. The horrible forced father / son thing between him and the twat playing Sawyer was terrible and unnecessary. ALL the new characters were unnecessary, Dorian Gray is a nice idea that is alluded to in the book but just comes across as an annoyance here. Mina's vampiric powers were overblown and dumb while the actress playing her (can't be bothered even looking the talentless bitch up on the IMDB) didn't have a clue. Neither did the costume design department. Black leather - how original. Nemo was bitterly disappointing and don't get me started on the Nautilus. It's not like they didn't have remarkable visuals to begin with. That's the one thing that they SHOULD have got right. Kevin Mills is an exceptional artist and one who has been making me laugh out loud for years. I saw hardly anything of his original work in this piece of shit. The CGI was terrible. Hyde was all wrong - both in look and character. And Skinner was given a dodgy accent that killed what should have been one of the best parts in the movie. The screenplay STANK. Again, why the fuck even hire anyone when you have Alan Moore? It's insulting. And the crap they came up with was the laziest excuse for a script I've seen in years. What could be a better than a movie with The Invisible Man and Mr Hyde? How about a movie with TWO invisible men and TWO Mr Hydes... Every tiny plot movement and character trait had to be spelled out for the audience as if they were five years old. They should have just named a character Professor Exposition and been done with it. Had these fucks even looked at the book? Here's a point they seemed to have overlooked - it's set in Victorian London. Maybe some more of that would have been good... the gag about British Summer was ok but apart from a five minute sequence in London the rest of the film is set in a handful of crappy INTERNATIONAL locations (all shot on the same sound stage) and way too much time was wasted inside the sub whose interior resembles Cameron's Titanic more than anything from the book or Jules Verne. Fucking pathetic. Give a pen to a spastic and kick him down the stairs and the resulting mess lying on the floor five seconds later would make a better movie. The editing and cutting was a mess, music was dreadful (especially all that African crap at the end) and the director should be fucking lynched. Bunch of cunts. I did get a nice free bag though. Do yourself a favour when October rolls around and ignore this heap of insulting crap. Read something instead: Mike is blogging to: something very very loud

Friday was almost perfect. We went out for a quick drink with Maria. Very quick. Standing outside some Soho shitpit drinking overpriced alcohol whilst fending off drunks and working girls is not my ideal evening: "Do you speak English?" "Yes." "You're the first person in London who seems to..." Way to get on my right side. Dumb ignorant racist fuck. "And?" "The thing is my son is in hospital and the cash machine is broke and I need to get to..." "Fuck right off and leave me alone." "No need to get shirty..." Every need to get shirty. I should carry around a bowel disruptor for these fucks. We made some small talk and left the booksellers to their drinking and set off in search of good food. Finally settling on a little Lebanese place we know tucked away near Chinatown - never too crowded and a nice place to relax in. Not many of those places left on a Friday night in Central London. After the meal we decided to stroll around instead of heading straight for the tube. Good decision. We browsed the bookshop windows of Cecil court, Jess wiping the drool from the windows in my wake as I get overexcited by very expensive old editions. One store had this in the window: Tempting, very tempting. Anyway we got distracted around Scotland Yard and ended up walking hand in hand over the Millennium Bridge and we both got excited about living in London again. We tried to think of a better view from our travels over the last couple of years... couldn't do it. To round the evening off we took a 'flight' on the London Eye. Pretty damn breathtaking and again we thought that should do more of this kind of stuff because, unlike the tourists here for a couple of weeks, we have all the time in the world... I am a lucky guy. Then I downgraded the evening from perfect to almost perfect by gibbering on about bodies falling into water from a great height and having their groins ripped open... I need to learn how to reign myself in. Today was work (I hate Saturdays) and reading insane comics. Jess is on her way back from a girlie METAL night out so I should cut this short as we have to be at the Odeon for 9.30am for the preview of League... More tomorrow. PS Buy me one of these and I'll be your pal: Mike is blogging to: Gorilla Biscuits

Reason I love my job #545168: TWENTIETH CENTURY FOX INVITE YOU TO THE OFFICIAL FDA MULTI MEDIA SCREENING OF THE LEAGUE OF EXTRAORDINARY GENTLEMEN AT ODEON WEST END LONDON WC2 ON SUNDAY 17TH AUGUST Cheers Andy - I owe you one. Mike is blogging to: hummmmmmmmmmmmmm

So my friend Maria is flying back to the land of ice, snow and heavy metal tomorrow. Lots of cool people are leaving London. I am starting to believe that London is one of those cities that becomes better the more distance you put between yourself and it. I really want to live somewhere else and miss this place as opposed to sitting here and hoping that parts of it will explode. Al Quaida really let me down on that one. Maybe I should get one of these anyway: The Advantage 3000 has a full facial shield, provides excellent visibility and is a ballistic hard polycarbonate. Features a six point head harness and an effective voice emitter diaphragm. The dual canister mounting system reduces the force needed to inhale and exhale. - New full face mask generation - Patented new head harness concept - Wide optical corrected lens - Lightweight and low-profile Comfort and a secure tightness feeling with the new 6 point harness, panoramic vision without distortion, new aesthetics criteria, the Advantage 3000 sets new comfort standards. Hazards Applications: Toxic Atmosphere (Non-IDLH) Toxic Atmosphere (IDLH) Nuisance Odor Particles & Dust Projectiles Confined Space Chemical Splash Smoke Nuclear Biological Chemical I think it would freak Todd out if we met him from the airport wearing PANIC GEAR. Then again it may make him feel right at home. I'll have to arrange a power cut or two too. World power my arse. Rambling... Not enough sleep and too much coffee. Mike is blogging to: nothing

My eyes hate me

Amongst other things today I have been messing around with tribe.net Some of you will already have got a weird email about it. Some of you may want to register and then search for something called THINGSTABLE Or drop me an email and I'll tell you more. Talking of email... Here are a few generic answers that I am bored with typing over and over again: I do not organise Flash Mobs I only went to one Flash Mob I didn't go to the second London Flash Mob because 1. I only found out about it late in the day and 2. I was too busy anyway Yes I may go to the next one Sheesh. I just got back in from seeing Sleater Kinney which was great. Support act The Fiery Furnances were pretty damn good too. The silly cow in between with the solo drum thing going on needs putting out of her misery. Seriously. I have some reading to do. Catch you later. Mike is blogging to: nothing

I was going to respond to this wank stain of an article but then I read Rebecca's rant and decided to steal it: Since I started this blogging lark I have read many different blogs and many different articles about them, and am by now well aware that I fit into the category of 'uninteresting, diary style blogs' that journalists or people who've been blogging for years can make a big fuss about. The general idea is that too many people are doing it, with not enough to say. Well, for a start, they are probably right, and I fuly accept that I rarely (if ever) have anything to say that is unique or of interest to anyone other than my mum. But I have decided that this really doesn't matter and I won't apologise for it. It's always in a journalist's interest to make a craze out of a trend or a crisis out of a slight decline in interest. It gives them something to write about, something to have an opinion about, and they hope they'll get quoted a lot and possibly win some awards. This doesn't, of course, mean that any of it is true. Of course the more blogs out there, the less there will be proportionally that interests any one group of people, but the point with blogs, as I understand them, is exactly to allow just anyone to voice an opinion, keep a record, or communicate with other people. The reason I keep a blog is for these reasons, and also because I enjoy to write, and having this 'public pressure' (don't laugh) helps discipline me into doing it every day. It doesn't really matter to me if I don't get hundreds of readers, or if half of them think I'm the dullest person on earth and never come back to my site. I admit that I am conscious of the fact that people will form opinions on me based on what they read here, and this does sometimes inhibit what I write, as I haven't always got the time to form an argument properly. However, I won't let one group of people insinuate (or just outright tell me) that because I'm not posting world-changing, articulate philosophies on my site every day that I should stop it and make way for the people who've been doing this since 1988. That defeats the entire purpose of what blogging is about. Which brings me up to my WWW for today. I bought a new handbag. It's lush. Some of my friends think I am turning into the Imelda Marcos of handbags, and I think this can only be a good thing. I don't think I own a handbag but I am glad to learn that Rebecca got a new one. Fuck anyone who thinks blogging is all about the bloody blogdex and IMPORTANT things. All you get then are the same idiots talking about the same subjects. I'd much rather dip into the interweb and read about some Texan kid's crappy exam or that someone in Portugal is a big fan of The A Team. The number one blog item according to blogdex at the moment is some NY Times article on the state of blogging... it's like a dog that can lick it's own genitals. I'm sure it feels good - it may even taste good - but just because the rest of the world is doing it doesn't mean I want to do it. Wankers. Mike is blogging to: Turbonegro

The 15-member all-girl pop group Morning Musume pose in this poster rolled out last week by the Defense Agency to win young recruits

I am downloading this: Third time's the charm I reckon. Yo ho ho Mike is blogging to: One Beat

Fuck. I just remembered we are off to see Sleater Kinney tomorrow Cool Mike is blogging to: All Hands on the Bad One

Blogger keeps throwing curve balls. Is there an English version of that term? The last post (now deleted) was meant to appear over on my side blog / group blog Black Napkins and not here... Oh well... Back to work Mike is blogging to: dog awful fly on the wall documentary shit that Jess is watching while mangling veggie sausages

Weird

I mentioned that I ran into Miss Milkkitten at the Flashmob the other day. I suck at remembering names. Anyway - her real name is Tanya and she writes a wonderful comic which you should all go out and buy. Especially all you extra fuckers that found me via Die Puny Humans and the Flash Mob fiasco. You can come and buy it from me here at FOYLES or anywhere else where WEIRD comicbooks are sold. If your local shop doesn't stock it tell them that they suck and demand that they place an order. Mike is blogging to: crazy shit from Ubekistan

E mail has been interesting... Also threw up a few problems. Jess' email is also down for the time being. If you need to get hold of her in the next three days or so drop me a line and I'll forward it on. Mike is blogging to: nothing

My FREEUK email address is about to die on me. You'll have to revert to: mike@sizemore.co.uk I will check that that one is working properly this evening and then send some mail out. ~~~~~~~ The weekend was far too hot to write. Even the idea of sitting in front of a keyboard made me feel ill. Fucking stupid weather. I did manage to see Pirates of the Caribbean. Twice. Yo ho ho and all that. Rather bloody good. A few misplaced lines here and there but a lot of fun. Mike is blogging to: nothing

Warren is back online

bad signal WARREN ELLIS Just FYI; www.diepunyhumans.com is fried. According to the date the host's auto-mail sent me, I've eaten 25 gigs of bandwidth within the last 24 hours, constituting over a million file requests. Their system's taken the site down, and their auto-responder is all I'm hearing from. Blogged to death. Carry on. -- W

Thanks for all the email. This Flash Mob lark is popular... Better photographs than mine can be found here

Oh... The new Bookslut is out (including my piece on Foyles) and I'm going to be interviewing Glen Duncan in the not too distant future.

Warren Ellis has kindly linked me up on Die Puny Humans. This means I am getting a tad more traffic than usual. The Flash Mob thing was picked up on the BBC site and they mentioned Warren. He in turn is sending people here. I have nowhere to send you... Maybe you should all go outside and get some fresh air. Sizemore is blogging to: Bukowski fans and sweaty Londoners

UK press picks up the Flash Mob story: The Guardian, The Times and The Evening Standard

London Flash Mob # 1 Sofa so good... so what? Britain's first Flashmob brings chaos to London's West End "A MOB OF, ER, FLASHMOBBERS descended on a furniture store near London's Tottenham Court road this evening, bringing chaos and confusion to the area. .." Hmmm. Not really. Nice idea though. I went along to London's first Flash Mob after Warren Ellis brought it to my attention via his Bad Signal email journal. The idea was to participate in something INTERESTING but what we got instead was a bit of a sham. I did get to meet Warren though and dazzle him with my Clee-ay: The rest of the photos are taken on my Nikon 775: We were given our SECRET instructions at a SECRET rendezvous: The Rising Sun - Tottenham Court Road. Where we met fellow Flash Mobbers: Once we arrived at the sofa store we were expected to RAID we quickly discovered two things. The shop was closed. And the owner didn't seem that surprised to see us: He let us in but seeing as the whole point of the Mob was to mix with non-Mobbers it became a farce. Here are some more pics anway: Mr Ellis again FEEDING his futurephone: On the inside looking out: The GENTLEMEN of the press: Getting settled: Getting bored: Getting out: And the high point of my journey away from London's Flash Mob: Die puny humans indeed. It was 'fun'. Just not what I expected. I also ran into Miss MILK KITTEN. Surprising how small London can be sometimes. I went straight onto meeting Jess at the Bright Eyes gig at Shepherd's Bush afterwards and bumped into Mr and Mrs Tim from L.A. - We had chatted briefly a few days before in Foyles and they recognised me so we hung out for a while at the bar before the EMO drove us to distraction. Good gig - shame about the mob. Sizemore is blogging to: heat and music and no fucking sleep - again

I haven't slept for a while. I phoned in sick today. Not that I was actually sick - just incapable of working. I lay on the couch for most of the night trying to remember what air was like. I climbed into bed just as Jess was leaving it and after she had gone assessed the bug damage. 22 bites. The biggest of which is still oozing some clear substance and driving me nuts. Every time Jess is not around I stab at it with whatever I find lying around like an animal biting at a wound. Even now as I type this I realise I am scratching at the bites subconsciously. A more intelligent person would have called in at a chemist for some Afterbite instead of spending the day raving at nature with a fist in the air and a stomach full of coffee and orange juice. So as the clock slowly got itself to 10am I phoned in sick knowing that it's better for the store to have me home for a day rather than doing unspeakable acts to anyone who got on my wrong side. Not that it was a wasted day. I watched Quincy. He got sacked after accusing a celebrity of being an imposter but redeemed himself by utilising nuns after realising the woman in question was her own evil twin sister. Quincy noticed that her heart was on the wrong side during a television programme. Those CSI guys are amateurs compared to the Quince. He even had time at the end of the episode for a drink with the boys down at the sailor-girl bar. With a chimp. This led to a discussion with Johnny about his Quincy fixation: I shit you not whenever I was fucked I would turn on the TV and there he'd be... Like he was waiting. And I had to resign myself to his irresistible power. Absolute Resignation. Into the arms, the waiting arms, of Quincy M.E. This led to us making up a few new sexual moves based on the differing detective styles of Quincy and Columbo. Not on each other. I have yet to have cyber sex with an Australian. Besides which I was also talking to Jess about her work - she wrote a pile of stories todays. She is getting paid for what I do on my days off. Pretty cool. We also got excited about the upcoming Pirates of the Caribbean. No one had mentioned the zombies to me. I also added a fun flight filled chapter to The Napkin's Brautigan Romero Western zombie caper. Not for the squeamish. We did indeed put an offer in on the new lair and are now in the hands of surveyors and solicitors. An October move looks promising. Here are some shots I forgot to put up the other day from Earlsfield Station: Waddle. I am also looking to get something along these lines etched onto my arm: Steve Dillon always drew Dredd right. So it's 1am and it is still too hot to sleep. I have every intention of getting into work tomorrow. I am meeting Dais at the Crobar after work for a drink and long catch-up as we are now friends again. This is a very good thing as I have missed her a lot. A bunch of other friends have been coming out of the woodwork recently too. Rebecca has almost convinced me to go and see T3. Tomorrow we are going to some club and Thursday is the Bright Eyes thing so maybe Friday we can have a slice of Arnie... Blogged to: Music: Frank Zappa Book: The Great Shark Hunt by Hunter S Thompson Bugs: All of them Girlfriend: Crashed on the couch

I am melting. Night of the Big Heat vs The Day the Earth Caught Fire pretty much sums up the house this morning. I woke up about an hour ago with something feeding on me. I am COVERED in bites. I hate nature. It must be destroyed. I spent the best part of an hour chasing things that looked like the kind of alien that Quatermass would pull out of the tube before Jess would come to bed... Now I am tired and grumpy and ITCHY. This is on top of being stung this morning. And it is still too fucking hot. Stupid country. Emphasis on cunt. Oh, and we put an offer on the new lair today. Fingers crossed and we will be buying gigantic coins and dinosaurs by October. Daisy doesn't hate me anymore which has got to be a good thing. And I just finished this or if you are British, this: And bloody good it was too. I wanted to write something on it for Bookslut but the sun has made me a s l o w reader. And before I forget, is anyone else going to be at the Soho flash mob on Thursday? After reading this it could be fun. Drop me a line if you are going to be there. I found out about it via Warren Ellis. If there is anyone left who doesn't read his stuff then you are probably too dumb to understand it anyway. Take the mouse out of your drooling face and give the computer back to an adult. Thank you. Blogged with: Music: No idea what it is but it is LOUD

Yesterday was a fun day. I think we will be putting an offer in on our new lair first thing tomorrow. We almost caved in and went to see the new Terminator movie but good sense prevailed and we came home and watched Space:1999 instead. Friday night we went to see Lapsus Linguae Upstairs at the Garage. Bloody good they were too. I think our next gig is Bright Eyes next week. In other Mike related news we seem to have misplaced our Finnish guest. We had one message from her on Friday saying she would call back but have yet to hear from her... Blogged with: Music: Shonen Knife Girlfriend: Giggling Cat: Shedding

I think we may have settled on a new lair:

I had the wonderful opportunity to tell someone to go fuck themselves today. A lot of the time you have to bite your lip or shrug your shoulders and just let things slide but once in a while it is VERY theraputic to just let rip. This is especially true when the person in question just expects you to sit back and take their shit. I love watching someone's expression drop when a situation of their making escalates into something they want no part of. That 'blessed are the meek' crap and 'turn the other cheek' nonsense is very tired. How did Peter Finch put it in Network? I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore Words to live by. Blogged with: Music: Johnny fucking Cash

Hmmmmm I think my eyes just exploded.