I'm sorry to have put you, my loyal friends, through this. But I must now report success. I am finally ruler of all the lands I survey.

For the past 9 months my minions and I have been systematically sabotaging the air conditioning systems up and down the country in preparation for today and as said, I am sorry for that, but as you will see it was necessary. It was merely step one in the grand plan.

The second step was to activate the widebeam-lazer-burn-radiation-vaccilator. Commonly known as the Heatbox. This was the next neccesary step in incapacitating the population of the country. You might have blamed the sun for it, but I could have winked that out in a heartbeat, No, it was me.

Finally I dressed myself and my assault team in CoolBreeze Freezer Suits (inspired by Mr Freeze from Batman) and took on the Hidden Secret Bunker where all of England is actually controlled from. Obviously I won't go so far as to reveal its location here, but it's distinctly not in London (hint, hint).

So that is where I am, currently. I can't stay talking to you for long, I'm expecting Mr Blair, The Windsors and Mr Paxman to receive the formal oaths of fealty soon. Then maybe a cup of tea.

There is more out there than you think.

An e-mail of complaint dropped into my Intray this weekend. I thought you should read it.

Dear Sir,
As a regular reader of vaguenet I have become increasingly infuriated by the pitiful output of Mr George Foreman. I realise that upon creating alcohol one might be expected to lose track of time, but several months? We can hardly attribute this to a heavy weekend. Am I also to believe that since inventing Alcohol, Fire, Sliced Bread and The Stapler he feels its his perogative to sit back on his laurels. I therefore request that one of your members pays a visit to Mr Foreman and deliver a swift kick to the rectum.
Yours impatiently,

M. Distin

Of course, I realised the truth in the letter and so instantly sent round one of our loyal researchers to Mr Foreman's House. Obviously I didn't expect to see our researcher for a while, and so wasn't surprised when he rolled in this morning steaming drunk. After sobering up he informed us that Mr Foreman is conducting a Wake for his good friend Dr Olaf McHairy Von Rumpy-Gumpy-Bum and has been since his sad demise in April. He has permitted more interviews and has arranged the first for later in the week.

We'll see if he's sober enough at the time

• Harry Potter 6 is rather good. Had it read by 6pm on Saturday. I'll see if I can be arsed with a review or not later.
  
  
• Google seems to have dropped my ranking by 1. Vaguenet is now only a 5. Ha. Only a five. To complain would be like whining cos you're only shagging FHM's third sexiest woman. I feeling rather philosophical about it. To be honest, the site doesn't get a huge amount of throughput and I definately don't receive much in the way of e-mail, (other than spam) but I like Vaguenet being here. It's sort of like the outpourings from my brain mixed with a little caramel and served on a dirty plate, and nobody's forcing you to digest it. But I'm glad you do. If you do. Thank You.
  
  
• Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow is glamorous, glorious, adventurous and imaginative. It's also a humongous bag of poo.
  
  
• I'll compile The List so far and plonk it in the archives section. I think another chapter of it needs doing though.
  
  

...
40. Just because you can't see it in the bathwater, doesn't make it worth reaching for.
41. A phone has 10 numbers on it. You press them in order and talk to people.
42. Pressing them in the right order is usually helpful.
43. No, I really don't want to change my service contract.
44. No, I'm not telling you that either.
45. No, Tracy doesn't live here.
46. No, I'm not lying.
47. Mr Beat-you-to-death-with-a-bat lives here, would you like to see him?
...

I am in pain. You may laugh but I'm given over to spasms and shooting pains everytime I so much as sit down or get up. Probably because I'm nowhere near as fit as I should be. Or it could be that I had pixies jumping up and down on my spine all night and kicking me on the shoulderblades. Though it's probably to do with the fact that I was fighting all day yesterday and it's a little wearing.

I was filming for a programme soon to be on the beeb and the scenes I was doing involved a long fight scene between 30-40 people having a punch-up. So for about 20 takes I was grappling and kicking with another guy there called Russ. He was pretty cool, I clocked him on the nose once and just got away from kneeing him in the knackers. His ring caught on my wrist at one point and I've got a large head-sized bruise on my chest after the headlock. Ah what fun.

Being an extra can be a great laugh, but there are drawbacks, primarily to do with the fact that no-one notices or cares. Which is the way it's supposed to be, If you notice an extra then they're doing something wrong or the director is. But to give you a clue, being an Extra consists of a few things. Being cold, bored, uncomfortable, tired and quite distinctly the very very bottom of the food chain.

The bit that actually matters is how the rest of the cast and crew treat you. I've worked with some great stars who've been fantastic to everybody around, and I've been on sets where everybody including the security staff shouted abuse at everybody below and around them.

So we do it and we go on and do it some more, because most times the crews are great to work with, and sometimes you've got to hope that you'll be seen by someone and become a character, not just have a line or two, but to be a character, actually named and everything. Ha, someday.

That was me, there, no, you've missed it now.

New on site

• Ask Cthulhu. The Elder God is ready to answer your queries.
• Blog Pages - If you fancy linking to individual blog entries. (Note that not all blog entries are available yet, I've got to go back and link them)
• The List
• Saving Grace - The first tale from CentrePoint.
• What Is Roleplay? - It's my attempt to explain the basics and truth to non-roleplayers.
• and ... erm ... a photo of somebody's butt. . . but i'm not telling you where i hid it.

Sorry, no comic for a couple of days. Be Happy

...
48. Stop that.
49. Yes, I really mean it.
50. I did say.
51. Eyepatches can be very comfortable.
52. Depth perception is horrendously overrated.
53. Don't worry, it'll wipe right off and I can write with it some more.
54. Stop whining and get off the floor.
...

I am fed up of re-inventing the bloody wheel. I have spent more of the past week fixing and patching bugs in one internet system or another than I have with my genius-level programming inventions for the site.

Just to give you a clue, All these pages with the top bar across the top of the whole screen, they're now in DIV format, to those of you that means something to. Of course, IE and Mozilla have to have a big fight over how they read it and it'll take many many hours to sort out a format that both of them like.

Ever heard of the IE6 Peek-a-boo Bug? Neither had I until last night. When the fucking thing decides to destroy my sanity.

And now, NOW ... it tells me I don't have access rights to open files for updating, so my handmade comments boxes are still no nearer to completion.

At least my functions work

In Other News

• Internet Screen Cleaner - For those with too much filth on their screen.
• VagueNet - like a mutant butterfly, climbing out of it's multicoloured crysalis into the world of internet pain and suffering.
• I'm still really tired, but I might have some really cool news next week.

More comics next week. I promise.