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Corrosive Shame
Therapy for Life
Most of you will be relieved to see there's no pictures in this post. Rather I'm just getting some text out of my system before embarking on more adventures in photoland. I'll make decent use of cut tags so you don't have to actually read it...

Last weekend was of course Infest. You've seen the photos, possibly bought the t-shirt and, if you're vin_petrol bemoaned the lack of corsetted lovelies in modern EBM. I had, as I've hinted in various places, a wonderful time. I took nearly 2000 photos, I danced a bit, I ate junk food, I got hyper on cheap chocolate and I wondered why people don't make sense of noize. I made a point of seeing every band, which rather bemused many some other people there, and meant I wasn't as sociable as I could have been so I clearly need to go back to working on the compromise of social crutch vs real interaction in the future. In general I enjoyed the noize more than the electro this year, which was a change as if I'd been forced to make a choice before the event it would have been the other way around.

Nice to see everyone I saw, but special mentions to quondam, kantti and ant_girl (for Ian McEwan).

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In other news (I'll save more rants for later) I almost collided with a van on Friday. This was entirely due to the driver being a complete cock. Imagine the situation - you're driving along a road, there's a cyclist in front of you. You need to turn left. Do you:
  1. Slow down, let the cyclist pass the turning, costing you a good 10 seconds of delay.

  2. Accelerate past the cyclist, brake suddenly and turn across his path forcing him to brake suddenly and risk losing control on a main road.
Yep - you guessed it...

Oh, and now I know why there is a groove in the saddle on my bike.

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