Never let it be said I can’t take a hint when I’m battered about the head with it. That’s the third time in a fortnight I’ve dreamed about a tattoo I’ve been planning in a vague “well, I know I want it, but there’s no great rush” way for a couple of years. I woke up this morning, looked down at my leg, and something was missing. That’s the point at which I’ve got my other tattoos in the past.

One of the reasons I’ve been putting it off a bit, though is that well, there’s fuck all for the artist to do. It’s a simple Sephiroth design, in black. (The sephira are just going to be empty circles (barring two, one which will have an X through it, and the other will be just a dashed outline) rather than being filled with colours and the paths joining will be blocks of black ink. I have a strict policy of getting monochrome tattoos.)

I kind of feel that turning up with such a geometric outline design is going to be, well, fucking boring for the artist and/or an insult to their talent. Am I just being stupid here? People who know tattoo artists better than me: are they going to hate me, or are they going to be happy with a simple job in exchange for cash? Anyone got anywhere they’d particularly recommend, or should I go with the default choice of Into You?

For the first time since I don’t know how long, all of the following statements are true.

1) I have no plans for today.
2) I got a decent amount of sleep, and have no hangover or anything like that to contend with.
3) I have no deadlines of any kind to worry about.
4) I am not ill. Well, I have the tail end of a slight cold. Doesn’t count.

I have a completely free Sunday, and the ability to enjoy it. Oh, added bonus: I have the house to myself for most of the evening. Don’t know when that last happened.

What the fuck do I do now?

“Because we never really know each other as well as we think, in response to this post I’d like you to ask a question. Anything about which you are curious, anything you feel you ought to know about me. Silly, serious, personal, fannish. Ask away. Then copy this to your own journal, and see what people don’t know about you.”

So, as most of you know, I’m an RPG nerd. Not, y’know, as much as I was a teenager, but still – I’m an RPG nerd. I had a few years break a while back, but then, on a whim, I got a group of friends together, and started running a game of White Wolf’s old game, Mage. I came up with a plot that I thought would take about a year or so to play, assuming a three to four hour session every other weekend – a game based on a gnostic murder mystery and a series of conspiracies and mad bastards as old as the human race. As it turns out, I was a little off in my estimation.

Tonight, three and half years later, playing more or less every other weekend, we finally finished that game, and it went exactly as I might have wished. The players saved the world against impossible odds, and in the end it all came down to one final roll of the dice – either they would triumph, or they would perish, and triumph they did.

It seemed appropriate to mark it. Three and a half years. I’ve had important relationships that didn’t last that long. :)

So, thank you to everyone who has ever taken part in it – marysiak, Danni, wmute, tintintin, cairmen, tyrell and most especially to burge, stu_n, chrisisiddall and anw.

And in two weeks time, we start something new. Thanks, guys.

Because if you send stupid C&D letters, you deserve what you get.

I wasn’t going to get an iPhone. Not gen 1. The next gen will have better battery life, more hard drive, etc etc, and will be out within 18 months. And it’s 270 quid, plus 18 months at 35 pound a month for a contract. But my Vodaphone contract ran out last week, and I’ve just been playing with one in the 02 store, and they really are that nice to use…

Must… resist…

Via the rapidly-becoming-required-reading Coilhouse, Dame Shirley Bassey covering Pink’s “Get This Party Started” with the most over-the-top-campy-goth video I’ve seen in a while.

Lunchtime: discover I have more money in the bank than I thought.

Half an hour ago: get home, immediately check that all the payments I’m expecting to go out have gone out, and discover they have.

Five minutes ago: Buy shiny new camera lens.

I’ve heard of this “saving for a rainy day”, but I’m not convinced.

Via Paul O’Brien’s always-worth-reading If Destroyed, Still True I find this clip of Charlie Brooker talking about the X-Factor.

Brooker is a nasty, vitriolic, little man, and I’m glad he is allowed to make TV. Yes, it’s all just media toss, but I’m glad at least there is a little media toss out there that is aimed at nasty, vitriolic, little men like me.

I strongly encourage you to read Paul’s article on screenwipe and the media today.

Before I ebay them, I thought I’d just check here – anyone want to buy a pair of hardly-used men’s size 11 K2 inline skates (suitable for people with size 10 to 10 and a half feet), plus pads and a bag?

Total cost to me: 160 quid. Total cost to you: 100 quid, plus shipping, if you’re not in London/able to meet me somewhere to take them off my hands.

(Yes, I have knocked the skating on the head. I enjoyed the lessons, but I didn’t enjoy it so much out in public, and would rather just get on with other kids of exercise, rather than hoping skating will get more fun.)

Please feel free to point anyone you think might be interested at this post.