Stitch
Banned
So, when I finally sold this:
I decided to fork out for that S7 I'd been blabbering on about for a long time.
Today was the day I got it.
It was a day of epicness.
This should have been a picstory of epicness.
My camera broke.
I found this out this morning. Something is jammed in the mechanism preventing it from zooming and autofocus is a bit off. My Canon EOS SLR isn't at my flat so I went on without. Please excuse any substandard photos, and rest assured I will have some uber-high quality ones ASAP.
First of all, I pick up my straploks. I intended to collect the guitar and take it to work to set it up, and I needed these. However, I wasn't carrying a bag and the packaging is just too big to fit in my pocket.
Fortunately, because I never throw anything away, I have an old style Schaller packet of Straploks. So I swap them
I haven't got a fucking clue where I'm going, so I need to check the address on the letter. I've since noticed that whoever typed this at ParcelForce is retarded as they've spelt 'Edinburgh' and 'North' wrong.
The friendly map generator gives me this:
It makes absolutely no sense at all, so I decide to call and ask for directions from someone who actually works their rather than a satellite.
No way am I paying through the nose for their stupid 08 number. Solution:
I am interrupted by a text from my colleague Phil, who offers this astute analysis of HM Revenure & Customs:
Quick check to make sure I can make it through the week after I spend all of my remaining money on the customs on this guitar.
Pasta: Check
Pepsi Max: Check
So we wap on some tunes and we are off!
Since I didnt really have anything to photograph I decided to photograph some of the government-owned CCTV camera littered on my 0.16 mile journey to the bus stop.
This is the first one - its round the corner from me and a block away yet can actually see my front door due to its location.
It can see all the way up this road too, and this road extends far further than my camera shows
I walk to the end of South bridge, which is as far as this one covers. You can't even see the camera now, but it can see us. Its up beside the bus on the other side of the road in the far far distance:
Fortunately, right beside me is the next camera which covers what is actually South Bridge over Waverley Train Station:
I also grab my cash here, but I didn't want to photograph it as it was busy and a little too weird. I got SO MANY weird looks today for photographing so many innocuous things
Ah! A ParcelForce van! Alas, he does not have my beloved S7 with him.
We're on Princes Street now. Most CCTV coverage in all of Scotland - this is the third camera I'd passed and I had only walked two blocks. I gave up photographing them after this. I'd like to point out before I leave the topic behind totally that all of these are the government-owned fully movable and zoomable ultra-high-definition ones. All of the wee pokey versions that belong to businesses are all legally obliged to handover any recordings straight to the Police if they ask them too. Scary, huh? Anyway, Big Brother lesson over!
This is the Scott Monument in Princes Street Gardens, also known as Thunderbird 3.
Thats the bus we want!
Those men in the middle are doing something called Roadworks. Bascally, they dig up the ground so they can close half of the road and repair it again.
Most of the time.
Where the fuck is my bus?! It's pissing it down!
Ka-ching!
Thanks to the miracles of rush hour, I was on that shitheap for 45 minutes. I'd have taken photos, but the bus was packed with nutters, the great unwashed, neds, jakes, druggies and American tourists. Anyway, it disappears:
The ParcelForce depot is based in an area known as Sighthill. It is no coincidence that this rhymes with "Shitehill". Its a horrible part of town, all Industrial Estates, car dealerships and run down council housing for run down council-funded degenerates. I mean, just look at the car dealerships:
The old Peugeot garage has moved three doors along in with Renault (French bastards
) and when they left they stripped their paint too. How considerate. Anyway, this is the logo underneath, and I think its awesome. Not seen that one in a while.
Time for a change of music. I love Job For A Cowboy dearly, but...
Time for some of Drew's music I think.
Please note album artwork, album title and song title.
Almost there!
Arse, went the wrong way.
Front door! Got butterflies now!
I hope to god this isn't my box. You can't tell from this pic but it was the size and shape of an electric hardcase...just very deformed and battered.
I present my monies while the very nice young chap disappears to get my package.
Thats me on pasta for a few weeks now.
It arrives!
I really, REALLY wish the retarded HM Revenue & Customs people had told me this when me and Ryan tried to figure out a sensible value to declare to minimise tax.
I'm awaiting the female parental unit to collect me; its too windy to carry this safely around to the bus stop half a mile away. I decide to smell my earphones. 
Smells of banana, since you ask.
She arrives. What a lady, coming out for her ungrateful little brat who doesn't even live with her anymore. We depart to the batmobile/Vauxhall Vectra.
The bus in front of us has an amusing Lothian bus number:
So, I'm through the front door with my baby. We go up the stairs:
Through the first floor doorway:
Down the hallway:
...to my door.
Into the bedroom...
Before laying her out on the bed.
Now, time to undress her. I grab my handy and sensible shot of stanley blades.
That one will do perfectly!
[action=Stitch]slides it in.[/action]
[action=He]slides it along.[/action]
Further.
One side down, two to go:
And the last one:
It better fucking not be.
Success!
It's getting better!
Matt's fucking bubblewrap. Gets everywhere. Even in the UK!
Goddamn I fucking hope so.
One latch down.
Two down.
The third...
Wait. I need a drink.
Ooft!
Ahhhh, much better.
*Click*
The suspense is fucking killing me! I'm like a kid at christmas!
*Swoons*
Time to get your underwear and top off, young miss.
Fuck yes.
Time to try it out:
That'll do.
Verdict:
I'd like to say an absolutely HUGE thanks to Ryan for selling this to me. For putting up with all the shit, the hang on wait what about this, the fact I've been bugging him about it since he first got it, and for all around being such an awesome guy.
Dude, you fucking rule. <3
Thanks to ESPlayer for buying that wretched K7 and letting me get my dream guitar.
Thanks to ShawnF for being awesome, and finally thanks to Chris for having leprosy.
Porn:
<3
That's all folks. I'll post some clips ASAP. Expect a before/after job with the blackouts. And I'll get some decent pictures of this beauty when I get my SLR back.
I decided to fork out for that S7 I'd been blabbering on about for a long time.
Today was the day I got it.
It was a day of epicness.
This should have been a picstory of epicness.
My camera broke.
I found this out this morning. Something is jammed in the mechanism preventing it from zooming and autofocus is a bit off. My Canon EOS SLR isn't at my flat so I went on without. Please excuse any substandard photos, and rest assured I will have some uber-high quality ones ASAP.
First of all, I pick up my straploks. I intended to collect the guitar and take it to work to set it up, and I needed these. However, I wasn't carrying a bag and the packaging is just too big to fit in my pocket.
Fortunately, because I never throw anything away, I have an old style Schaller packet of Straploks. So I swap them
I haven't got a fucking clue where I'm going, so I need to check the address on the letter. I've since noticed that whoever typed this at ParcelForce is retarded as they've spelt 'Edinburgh' and 'North' wrong.
The friendly map generator gives me this:
It makes absolutely no sense at all, so I decide to call and ask for directions from someone who actually works their rather than a satellite.
No way am I paying through the nose for their stupid 08 number. Solution:
I am interrupted by a text from my colleague Phil, who offers this astute analysis of HM Revenure & Customs:
Quick check to make sure I can make it through the week after I spend all of my remaining money on the customs on this guitar.
Pasta: Check
Pepsi Max: Check
So we wap on some tunes and we are off!
Since I didnt really have anything to photograph I decided to photograph some of the government-owned CCTV camera littered on my 0.16 mile journey to the bus stop.
This is the first one - its round the corner from me and a block away yet can actually see my front door due to its location.
It can see all the way up this road too, and this road extends far further than my camera shows
I walk to the end of South bridge, which is as far as this one covers. You can't even see the camera now, but it can see us. Its up beside the bus on the other side of the road in the far far distance:
Fortunately, right beside me is the next camera which covers what is actually South Bridge over Waverley Train Station:
I also grab my cash here, but I didn't want to photograph it as it was busy and a little too weird. I got SO MANY weird looks today for photographing so many innocuous things
Ah! A ParcelForce van! Alas, he does not have my beloved S7 with him.
We're on Princes Street now. Most CCTV coverage in all of Scotland - this is the third camera I'd passed and I had only walked two blocks. I gave up photographing them after this. I'd like to point out before I leave the topic behind totally that all of these are the government-owned fully movable and zoomable ultra-high-definition ones. All of the wee pokey versions that belong to businesses are all legally obliged to handover any recordings straight to the Police if they ask them too. Scary, huh? Anyway, Big Brother lesson over!
This is the Scott Monument in Princes Street Gardens, also known as Thunderbird 3.
Thats the bus we want!
Those men in the middle are doing something called Roadworks. Bascally, they dig up the ground so they can close half of the road and repair it again.
Most of the time.
Where the fuck is my bus?! It's pissing it down!
Ka-ching!
Thanks to the miracles of rush hour, I was on that shitheap for 45 minutes. I'd have taken photos, but the bus was packed with nutters, the great unwashed, neds, jakes, druggies and American tourists. Anyway, it disappears:
The ParcelForce depot is based in an area known as Sighthill. It is no coincidence that this rhymes with "Shitehill". Its a horrible part of town, all Industrial Estates, car dealerships and run down council housing for run down council-funded degenerates. I mean, just look at the car dealerships:
The old Peugeot garage has moved three doors along in with Renault (French bastards
) and when they left they stripped their paint too. How considerate. Anyway, this is the logo underneath, and I think its awesome. Not seen that one in a while. Time for a change of music. I love Job For A Cowboy dearly, but...
Time for some of Drew's music I think.
Please note album artwork, album title and song title.
Almost there!
Arse, went the wrong way.
Front door! Got butterflies now!
I hope to god this isn't my box. You can't tell from this pic but it was the size and shape of an electric hardcase...just very deformed and battered.
I present my monies while the very nice young chap disappears to get my package.
Thats me on pasta for a few weeks now.
It arrives!
I really, REALLY wish the retarded HM Revenue & Customs people had told me this when me and Ryan tried to figure out a sensible value to declare to minimise tax.
I'm awaiting the female parental unit to collect me; its too windy to carry this safely around to the bus stop half a mile away.
I decide to smell my earphones. Smells of banana, since you ask.
She arrives. What a lady, coming out for her ungrateful little brat who doesn't even live with her anymore. We depart to the batmobile/Vauxhall Vectra.
The bus in front of us has an amusing Lothian bus number:
So, I'm through the front door with my baby. We go up the stairs:
Through the first floor doorway:
Down the hallway:
...to my door.
Into the bedroom...
Before laying her out on the bed.
Now, time to undress her. I grab my handy and sensible shot of stanley blades.
That one will do perfectly!
[action=Stitch]slides it in.[/action]
[action=He]slides it along.[/action]
Further.
One side down, two to go:
And the last one:
It better fucking not be.
Success!
It's getting better!
Matt's fucking bubblewrap. Gets everywhere. Even in the UK!
Goddamn I fucking hope so.
One latch down.
Two down.
The third...
Wait. I need a drink.
Ooft!
Ahhhh, much better.
*Click*
The suspense is fucking killing me! I'm like a kid at christmas!
*Swoons*
Time to get your underwear and top off, young miss.
Fuck yes.
Time to try it out:
That'll do.
Verdict:
I'd like to say an absolutely HUGE thanks to Ryan for selling this to me. For putting up with all the shit, the hang on wait what about this, the fact I've been bugging him about it since he first got it, and for all around being such an awesome guy.
Dude, you fucking rule. <3
Thanks to ESPlayer for buying that wretched K7 and letting me get my dream guitar.
Thanks to ShawnF for being awesome, and finally thanks to Chris for having leprosy.
Porn:
<3
That's all folks. I'll post some clips ASAP. Expect a before/after job with the blackouts. And I'll get some decent pictures of this beauty when I get my SLR back.
