Tuesday, July 31, 2007

More From The Wedding

Chris, Andy, Terry & Rob.

Carole, Andy, Lisa, being an absent minded old sod I have forgotten the girl's names, hot and uber hot then.

Whilst the photos were being taken in the gardens at the Old Swan, I quickly found my level and was to be seen off camera holding a tray with the guest's drinks on it, it was a little blustery in the afternoon and when a particularly large gust of wind sent expensive designer hats flying across the lawns it also blew over all the champagne flutes and drenched me in bubbly.

Monday, July 30, 2007

Lurker's Bird Gets Promotion

Yup, she's now officially Lurker's Wife.

Don't they look good, Carole looked simply stunning, the dress was fantastic. The service was great, the venue for the reception was great, everything was great, I hope the bride and groom had as good a time as I did. More people should get married, and invite me, I love weddings.

This is Terry, the best man, and if he looks a little startled in this shot it's probably because in a starling reversal of roles, he's just had to endure a ten minute verbal kicking from his 'best friend' the groom. Poor Terry, as Andy reeled off revalation after comic revaltion about the best man he sat shake shaking his head and could be heard murmuring "Hang on, I'm supposed to be doing this to you."

I know, all that totty in posh frocks and the only person I can pull is my own brother-in-law, still, he's a lovely mover on the dancefloor.

What a fantastic day, I'd like to offer my thanks to Neville and Wendy, Brian and Kath and of course Andy and Carole.

Saturday, July 28, 2007

The Big Day

Today Brother in Law mk.2, aka Lurker, gets married to the lovely Carol, aka Lurker's Bird, good choice Lurker, she's teh hawt!

Later on I will be such a state of advanced merriment that I might possibly be seen dancing, badly.

My very best wishes to the happy couple, how long until we get some mini-lurker's to babysit for ?

Friday, July 27, 2007

5 Year Plan

A business model for rock groups.

Year 1) We host a massive signing party filled to the brim with D list celebrities, other wannabe rock stars and the drummer from Kasabian.*1 You drink copious amounts of Cristal champagne *2 and at the end of the night we sign your management contract.

The rest of the year is spent touring, recording and promoting the 1st album. The band sleep in the van with the gear, I will be sleeping in a B&B. This is because people expect bands to be crumpled, dirty and smelly, whereas the manager must be well rested, showered and smart, we have important business things to do.

We have many aftershow parties filled with more Cristal, birds, dope and White Lightning Cider (for the drummer). *2

Year 2) With the release of the second album the band undertake a headline tour of mid-sized UK venues, with the band now generating enough money to be able to stay in a B&B, but still travelling in the van with all the gear. The manager is now driving a new Mercedes *2, after all, I must look smart when representing you in business meetings.

We have many aftershow parties filled with Cristal, models / groupies, skunk and Tennant's Extra (for the drummer). *2

Year 3 ) After the success of the Christmas single we rush out an EP in late January and embark on a Europe / USA / Far East stadium support tour with Muse. The band is removed from the US leg of the tour after the drummer is caught in possession of cocaine at LA airport.

The band's image is further enhanced by support slots at some of the major UK summer festivals and we receive great tv coverage by appearing second on the bill at the Wembley Kurt Cobain Memorial - Samaritans Fundraising gig. More headlines are made when the drummer gets into a fistfight with Girls Aloud, and loses.

Although the band are still living in the same filthy squat you were three years ago, the manager has put down a large cash deposit on a nice detached house.

There are many parties involving Cristal, prostitutes, cocaine, ketamine and pints of sherry (for our drummer) *2, and the drummer from Kasabian, who we can't seem to get rid of.

Year 4) After a Spring setback, when in a state of some confusion, the singer (who is to coin a phrase, "smacked off his tits") walks on stage at the new Marquee Club and urinates on the front row of the audience, the band bounce back with the release of the third album.

The album goes platinum across Europe, within weeks of its release the band are on a major headline tour and Download, Lollapalooza and Ozfest are all begging you to headline.

This year there is so much Cristal at parties that we're forced to bathe the call girls in it.

Year 5) Back down to earth. The drummer spends 3 months in rehab and on coming out has a 50/50 chance of either becoming a Buddhist monk, or spontaneously combusting. *4

Recording the new album goes on forever. The guitarist insists on recording each part a hundred times, the bassist leaves the studio in May and was last rumoured to have been seen working as a petrol pump attendant in Macedonia.

The new album is released to a poor reception, and a world wide headline tour collapses after the singer is arrested in Thailand for offences relating to drugs, ladyboys and a golden retriever.

The band breaks up, those that are not in prosin / rehab / run away to Macedonia, return to life in a filthy squat. The manager, who last month bought Bedfordshire so his children would have somewhere to exercise their ponies, now has properties in London, Paris and Los Angeles and is taken to work by own personal pilot.

10 Years On ) The band, rehabbed and drug free (except for the drummer who has now taken to drinking diesel fuel siphoned from the tour bus), are now trying to overturn a High Court decision which confirmed the original contract they signed with the manager.

The band were surprised to learn that they did not in fact, and in law, own any of the rights to their first four album, and that they had signed away 50% of all t-shirt sales and internet revenue in perpetuity,

The band now make a living gigging in Macedonia and Uzbekistan where their music is still very popular. At home in the UK their most recent album peaked at # 72 in the charts.

The manager now has a controlling interest in the combined EMI - UMG group and lives a happy and tax free existence as President ( and rumoured owner) of the Turks and Caicos Islands.

*1 - It being well known that drummers will lig at anything.

*2 The cost of which will be deducted from your advance.

*3 You discover later that Muse have deducted all of this from your tour wages.

*4 No-one knows why drummers do this, they just do.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Moving On

I walked strait into Aumon's office, I'd sent an info pulse from the ship to tell him I was on my way, he was waiting for me, a big grin on his face. Aumon's an imposing looking man, intimidating even.

I remember the first time I met him, only a few months ago. I seemed to be getting nowhere fast running courier missions for Caldari Constructions, my agent was giving me the runaround, a tiny package here to go nine or ten systems away for a handful of iskies and almost no increases in my standings. I had bucked up the courage to try another agent, I flew across the Kusomonmon system and knocked on Aumon Fukkiainen's door.

His office is just off the main Corporate Police docks, cargo drones sped past me carrying goods to and from pilot's hangers as I waited, and waited, for an answer. Eventually he let me in, I stood nervously just inside the door, trying not to fidget. He was a tall man, even sitting down, a Caldari Civire, and I'm Gallente Intaki so that was going to make things difficult from the start. He didn't even glance over at me, just kept working at his convo unit. I waited.

"A turncoat," he grunted. "So what do you want ?".

A turncoat, that hurt. I'm a Reborn Intaki, we think a lot and try to take the long view of things, there are quite a few of us over here in Caldari space, not exactly working against the Gallente Empire, but definately not working for it. I'd had some contact with Mordu's Legion Command, and had some friends there in the mercenary group which was almost entirely Intaki capsuleers led by Caldari commanders.

"I want some work," I said, trying and failing to keep a faint tremor out of my voice.

Aumon pushed a convo tablet at me across the desk.

"Think you're up to this ?".

I looked at the screen of the tablet, the mission looked simple enough, fly to Suroken, locate a rogue drone silo, take out the drones who had begun to harass local traders.

"I'm up to it," I said a little more firmly. "You can count on me."

Aumon ran his fingers over the tablet and pointed at the bottom of the screen.

"When the drones spread your worthless carcass all over the system, I get to keep to the ten thou' you're gonna deposit to take the mission, understand ?"

This was the first time he had looked me in the eyes, he had dark eyes, and I tried to hold his gaze and not let my attention be caught by the Caldaru light tattoos that shone and glowed on his shaved head.

"I'll be back for my reward and my deposit," I replied.

That's how it went for the next few months, when I wasn't trading or mining or running missions for my Corporation friends in Nakama, I'd be standing nervously in Aumon's office as he pointed at the convo screen and indicated how much money he would make when I took a mission too far. Gradually though our relationship changed, he began to smile when I arrived, he stopped making dire predictions about my imminent demise, and once, when I set off to investigate a Gursitas pirate blockade, he even called me soldier and told meto take care.

This time I walked right in, and placed my convo tab right in front of him, the screen lit up with the words "Mission completed". I'd had a hard time of it, even in Iron Council II, my gunned up Vexor cruiser, but I had fought my way through the pirates and destroyed their narcotics warehouse.

"My reward ?" I said, smiling broadly. Aumon grinned back and pushed a button on his convo, iskies by the thousand went from his account into mine. "Thanks."

I turned to go, and surreptitiously tried to look at my convo screen without Aumon seein what I was doing. Well, the numbers were all there, I turned around again.

"Look, Aumon". He cut me off.

"China," and he pointed to his own screen where my personnel file was already loaded. "It's time for you to move on, you've done well for me, you've completed every mission I've thrown your way. Now you should take a step up".

I was relieved, I knew this last mission was going to push up my ranking with the Corporate Police Force, but I felt almost as nervous about telling Aumon I was leaving for another agent as I had when I first took a mission from him. Truth be told, I had already made tentative contact with a Level 2 agent over in Juunigaishi.

"Go and see Uvornarkka Makkanto over in Juunigaishi, she'll see you right." He knew, well of course he knew, it was his job as station security boss to know what was going on with his capsuleers. He reached into his desk and came up with a bottle of spiced wine.

"I'm closing the office early today China, join me for a drink ?"

The next morning I was flying a Brutix Battlecruiser, with a hangover. Aumon spent half the night with me, filling me with wine and advice and best wishes, he's not a bad old sod, for a Caldari.
On A Scale Of Ten......I'd Give Her One

Don't understand ? Clickey.

Monday, July 23, 2007

Yorkshire Soul's Rambling Quiz 6.6

The rules, please don't post answers in the comments.

Anyone may enter the quiz, send your answers to yorkshiresoul@gmail.com on/by Mon 30th July. Please put "Quiz 6.6" as the header, it makes it easier to find your answers amongst the spam.

1) How many Bond films have there been in which the film's theme song ws not the film's title ?

2) In the year that Frank Sinatra won his second 'Best Album' Grammy, who won the Grammy for 'Best Record' ?

3) Put these in order of composition ? Tannhauser, Don Giovanni, Madame Butterfly, Fidelio.

4) Which was the first tragedy that Shakespeare wrote ?

5) Who directed the film in which Max von Sydow plays a game of chess with death ?

6) What links Ozzy Osbourne, Sid Vicious and Henry Irving ?

7) What is the binary for 18 ?

8) What is an extreme desire or enthusiasm for alcohol properly called ?

9) What is an extreme or irrational fear of thunder properly called ?

10) What was the name of the art movement that used small dots of colour, usually unmixed, to represent shapes ?

Have fun.

Saturday, July 21, 2007

Pottermania - Ilkley

Good evening, or is that good very early morning, Potter fans.

Yorkshire Soul, along with Mrs YS., and we're reporting (almost) live from the launch of the most recent and final Harry Potter book. Crowds were gathering early outside Ilkley's purveyors of literature with some brave souls reporting that they had braved the bleak midsummer (i.e. howling wind and driving rain) conditions since 7pm that evening in order to get their geeky hands on the final installment of JK Rowlings pension plan.

Please note, the above picture is not blurred, it's atmospheric alright! There were dozens queueing at The Grove Bookshop (a fine and independent business), hundreds more at W H Smith (homogeneous high street doesn't quite know what it wants to be store), and I'm glad to report that some fine enterprising and fairly pissed young men had gone to the effort of stealing the advertising banner from Tesco (Superhyperglobalwe'regonnaowntheworld) and paraded it in front of the crowds of geeks.

Lucy A, fine waitress of this parish, was first in line at The Grove, and sported a fine Harry-esque scar, very fetching Lucy.

Scars were de riguer in Ilkley tonight, as these two lasses in the WHSmiths queue show, these two had also, quite sensibly considering the prevailing weather conditions, gone for a combination bin bag / wizards cloak ensemble to protect them both from rain and the necromantic power of Lord Voldemort.

Also in attendance were numerous representatives of the drunken youth of Ilkley, who, in 'hilarious' fashion, repeatedly shouted "Harry dies", ah, being dumb is so funny when you're pissed.

As far as I'm concerned Rowling is fantastic, anyone who can create this sort of excitement for a book deserves all the plaudits and money that will be thrown her way.

Also, geeks are cool, and speaking as a comics / sci-fi / fantasy / Tolkienite / MMORG / Eve Online / Pardus / D&D / cricket / wine geek, I should know.

The geeks will inherit the earth, because we bothered to read books to find out how.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007


I'm going to sweep into power, do away with the established order and form a revolutionary government, if that's alright with you.

Foreign Minister - Bob Geldof
Home Minister - The ghost of Joe Strummer
Minister for Globalisation - Zack de la Rocha
Minister for World Peace - The ghost of John Lennon
Scottish Minister - Fish
Minister for Poverty - Jello Biafra
Yorkshire Minister - Justin Sullivan
War Minister - Roger Waters

That should sort the place out.
The Golden Spam

Dear Sir/Madam,


We are so glads to write you this time to introduce our company to you, we are a small skill mining company which we base in Accra (GHANA)

We have a total of Eight Hundreds Kilos (800 Kilos) of GOLD DUST in our storage please if you are interested kindly inform us immediatly so that we can send our FCO to you .

if you are interesting in purchase the Gold Dust revert bact to our direct e-mail address as follow: mineralgdf@yahoo.com

Thanks and God bless you ,

Best Regards

Dr. Ahmed Suleiman

Dear Dr. Suleiman,

I have 250kgs of rocking horse droppings which I would gladly exchange for your gold dust,


Doom & Gloom

I spent a large chunk of last week listening to morbid tales of murder, death, suicide, metal illness and depression, that's right, I was listening to Johnny Cash and Simon & Garfunkel.

I hadn't realised before just how many tales of misery S&G had penned, and as for Mr. Cash, well if he starts a song with with "Let me tell you story of Billy Joe" well you just know that poor old Billy Joe isn't likely to survive past the second verse.
A Topical Musical

Monday, July 16, 2007

Dizzy Old Bugger

A strange thing happened on Saturday night.

It was Captain's Day, which is pretty much the longest, hardest working day of the year. Mrs Ys and myself were down on the golf course at around 8am dishing out drinks and bacon butties to the members. The competition goes on all day, Mrs YS runs the on course bar, whilst I provide an all day barbeque.

After the end of the day's competition I rush back to the clubhouse to get dinner ready for the Captain's evening do, a fairly simple meal of smoked salmon and prawns, chicken with a mushrooom and cream sauce then strawberry meringues. There is a 1am bar after the dinner and we finally managed to close the club at about 1.30am.

At about 4am I woke up, or was rather rudely awakened, by a huge cramp in my left leg. In excruciating pain I shot out of bed and tried to streth my leg out to alleviate the pain.


Well, oddly, the next thing I remember is that I was sat on the floor with my back to my bedside cabinet, or rather I was wedged into the space between my cabinet and the wall. I had my right hand up in front of my face and my hand was twitching and contracting, not in any painful way but more like a nervous reflex. Mrs YS, who can sleep through the burglar alarm, thunderstorms and the outbreak of armed conflicts, had been starled into wakefullness by the sound of me crashing to the floor.

It is weird, I remember standing up, I remember being sat on the floor in a very confused and dazed state, but I have no memory at all of the preceding fall. I'm not hurt at all, not even a bruise, which is lucky because if I had fallen a few inches to the right and the radiator thermostat would have done me a serious damage.

It's a sure sign that I'm getting on a bit, falling over without the influence of alcohol!

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Hurricane Damage

Greetings planet bound citizens, China Flex here, Intergalactic Revolutionary Communist, ore trader and would be gunslinger. Since I last checked in with you I got myself a new ship, it's a Vexor Cruiser as shown below, she is, or rather was, called Iron Council.

I have fitted it out with some neat rail guns and accelerator cannons, and it has enough spare slots to mount a mining laser and a savager unit so it works nicely with my jack of all trades approach to starfaring life.

I am based in the fairly friendly 0.8 Sec system of Kusomonmon, where I am running missions for the Corporate Police Force and doing some trading on the side. I bought myself some ammunition blueprints and started a little manufacturing business, churning out antimatter railgun charges. My little business started out quite well, so well in fact that it wasn't long before I had used up my stock of Isogen to make ammo.

Well, I've shot down a few Guristas pirates by now, so with swollen ego and a vastly inflated sense of security I flew into Kubinen, a 0.4 security solar system, and began to mine. Things went well for a while, I had a couple of good fights with some Guristas cruisers and vaped them, claiming the reward and looting their wrecks for spoils.

Then, well there was bound to be a then.

I was mining away, my hold wasnearly full and I had just called my drones back to their docking by when I saw a ripple in space behind the ship. The ripple grew and then something dark and menacing popped out only 10k from my position.

I didn't like the look of this, a second ripple was appearing and another ship was pushing through, time to hit the panic button, I hit the warp button, hard.

Nothing, except for the whee-whee-whee alarm my ship makes as the other ship targets me. This is really bad, he's already got me with a warp disruptor so I can't flip back to base, in a panic I ramp the engines up to full and run for the centre of the asteroid field.

Then the noise begins, it's a noise exactly like hundreds of big metal shells thudding into my ship' armour, because that is exactly what it is. The Hurricane could have up to eight sets of dual cannons, my shields are blown away in a couple of seconds, I hit the shield booster but it can't do anything against the awesome rain of metal that is now shredding Iron Council's armour. In a last desperate attempt to do something, anything, I hit the overload switch, for a brief moment my heart lifts as the overloaded shield booster kicks in and the red bar that shows my depleted shiled begins to move upwards.

Then the other ship starts to fire. Things are now falling off Iron Council, she's gouting flames from the engine casings and the universe is spinning around as she careers out of control, spinning end over end. There's a deafening explosion and my ship disintegrates around me, I'm left in space in my escape capsule and now I manage to warp away.

Oh well, at least I was wise enough to buy insurance.

This is China Flex, flying the Iron Council II, signing off for now, see you in The Rig Bar, Caldari Constructions, Kuso 2 Moon 8 for a glass of Quafe and some Long Limb Roes, power to the people !

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Theme Song For Last Week

5 Feet High And Rising - Johnny Cash
Campfires Burning

Look at the candles on that, you could roast wild animals over it !

The Impossible Music Quiz

Based on my own music library, answer in the comments, or just chat away about music in general.

1) How may songs with 'England' in the title are there in my library, or just how many songs can you think of that mention England ?

2) Alphabetically, who are the next four artists after Meatloaf ?

3) Metal and punk bands like to swear a lot, how many songs are there in my library with 'fuck' in the title ?

4) In library order, who is the next female name to appear after Alanis Morisette ?

5) How many songs have in their title 'life' ? And how many have 'death' ?

6) Which artist fits in between Shotgun Idols and Shy ?

7) Who have I got most tracks by, Rush, New Model Army or Richard Wagner ?

8) What sort of company is Frderick Chopin in, who comes immediately before and after him ?

9) Which crops up most often in song titles, bird, rose or river ?

10) How many acts have I got whose names begin with numbers ?

Chat away, it's just for fun, no points towards the main qiz.

Monday, July 09, 2007

An Appeal By Barnardo's

He told his parents to fuck off.

He told his foster parents to fuck off.

He told fourteen social workers to fuck off.

He told Yorkshire Soul to fuck off.

Yorkshire Soul beat him with a meat tenderiser and sent him to work down't pit.

Barnardo's, if you don't give us your money we give the orphans to Yorkshire Soul.

Saturday, July 07, 2007

40 ? Just Like 39 Really

Well of course, and 39 was just like 38 and so on and so forth.

Thanks for all the presents, which were wine mostly, which is good. There was also some money, which I will convert into more wine, which is also good.

Much thanks to Wosser and family, the potatoes were wonderful ! Just kidding, I'm a bit humbled by your generosity actually, thanks folks. Thanks to various small persons for cheering me up by singing happy birthday down the phone, and for joining me in a water bomb fight in the pouring rain, I'm older but just as daft I fear.

There will be some sort of shindig later in the year, late October time, probably my next night off.

Tuesday, July 03, 2007

The Small Dogs That Ate Thunder

For Carol, I don't know why my mind works this way, it just does.

The Small Dogs lounged around the cave, the cave had a strong smell of lightning and ozone, this was because the Small Dogs farted a lot.

Strap rolled onto his back and shuffled from side to side in the dust, it was high summer and like all the other Small Dogs, Strap had fleas. As the dust puffed up around him Strap saw some of the fleas making a jump for freedom from his matted hide, he growled and lazily snapped at one or two, then he farted and chuckled.

The fart went out as it had gone in, a small chunk of bitten thunder boomed around the cave. The other Small Dogs didn't even twitch an ear, but Pult who was lying at the entrance to the cave saw the crows rise in consternation at the sudden noise and he laughed. The crows lived in a perilous state, the storms that the Small Dogs dragged back to their cave caused the immediate grasslands to be be lush and green and full of worms, but the near constant thunder kept the crows in a state of twittery nervousness.

Pult laughed at the crows, Strap heard him and strained to get another fart out, this one popped and sputtered and the Small Dog pack laughed and barked.

Sepu, the oldest and biggest of the Small Dogs, barked once then rolled over and made a show of licking his balls, his scrotum was large and full, Sepu had boasted that he had mated with Itule, Bitch of the Dogs That Shat Wind. Strap saw Sepu's balls and he felt small and weak, Sepu was chief dog and had always been and would always be until the end of all lightning and rain and storms and thunder. Itule was chief bitch and had always been and would always be until the end of all wind and gusts and squalls and storms.

They were two tribes and distinct and apart, and they were one tribe and the same and inseparable and this was the way it had always been, and was now and would always be in the future, and so Strap tried to be big and brave and clever and funny but would cower and whimper at a look or a snarl from Sepu.

The Small Dogs That Ate Thunder were Sepu, Pult, Jufa, Roda and Strap.

The Small Dogs That Shat Lightning were Itule, Ascen, Icros and Tene. They were less in number, but Strap always felt that they seemed the greater when the two packs met. For all his bravado and bluster, Sepu could always be tail tamed by Itule.

Fart, thunder, laughter, this was the way the Thunder pack spent their days. They growled and laughed and barked and scratched and farted and sniffed and growled some more as the sun rose and crossed the sky and made for its nighttime bed on the other side of the land.

As the sun went down the clouds gathered, when the clouds gathered the lightning began, small and crackly at first, then building up to let rip with great peals and echoings of thunder.

And when the thunder grew too much, when the beasts and birds and humans of the land were huddled down and afraid and crying for their chicks and cubs and children, then the Thunder Pack came from their cave and ate the thunder and freed all the creatures from their nighttime fear.

And when the lightning blazed and turned black night into white day then the Lightning Pack came and saved the parents and young from their weeping and wailing.

Amidst the storms walked Atewa, he threw thunder from his right hand and hurled lightning from his left. He was the God Of All Storms and much as the worms in the soil ate the dead and cleared the corpses so that Emfeh The Goddess Of New Life could create new young in the wombs of bitches and not fill up the world, so the Small Dogs cleared the storms so that the creatures of the land did not live in constant fear.

Atewa understood the purpose of the Small Dogs, but he did not appreciate them. Thunder was music to Atewa's ears, his nightly storms were his concert, his art, his creation, always new and fresh and brilliant. The Small Dogs kept his work new and wonderful, but they chewed it up and ate it and farted it out, and for this Atewa tolerated them but did not love them.

And that's bedtime, there you go Carol, give me another title and I'll spout more free verse / stream of consciousness / gibberish.

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Bloody Spammers

Ah sorry, that was me. Tip of the day, don't drink lots of whisky and then doss around on Facebook, you might accidently send invite spam mail to your entire address book, sorry folks.