Musketeers. Elements. Square. Play. Years Old.

Monday 21st January

After four years. VAGUENET.COM is four years old today. You can tell because you can check in the archive to the day that I bought the name. Let there be birthday cake and jelly and ice-cream. Let there be streamers and balloons and clowns with funny wigs and alcoholic tendencies. Let there be a worrying puppeteer that you are unsure as to his private life, but you're pretty sure that it's illegal.

Let there be parades, ticker tape, dancing girls, confetti and open topped vehicles. Let there be a huge float decorated in gold with a throne prominently positioned. Let there be seventy six trombones and huge balloons dragged by teams of hardy Irish dock-workers.

In fact, this day shall have none of these things. If I am lucky, this day shall consist of a bit of playing on Super Mario Galaxy, a hot tea, maybe a bath and an early night.

Because I'm exciting like that.

What IS the usual celebration for this day is to spend hours on the phone or live chatting with my service provider arguing the toss over domain name registrations, programming errors, server maintenance or any one of another million reasons as to why VagueNet has been missing from the internet and nobody has told me. Nope, this year will be a year free of that. Not because I have done necessary preparations. Not because I have sacrificed a chicken in a Voudoun ritual. No, it's because I did that for 2 hours on Saturday afternoon.

And yes, it sucked.

So I suppose now is the time to reflect upon the greatness, not just of me, but of that which I have created. Fuck it. It's a bit like deciding which bit of the farm to eat first. I have tried to enchant, philosophise and maybe even entertain you on occasion. Sometimes apologising for three days absence. Once being gone for 2 months without a word.

I think it's fair to say that I have covered a broad range of subjects in the past four years, from murder, genocide, death and the many other aspects of my psyche that I will let loose the minute I find out who's been stealing my milk from the communal fridge. I've talked about video games and sexual abuse. I might even have mentioned my occasional wanderings.

And though I have no reason to believe it, I do hope that you have enjoyed our little sojourn with me baring my soul, and you laughing at me baring my soul. When the times have been good and I plot assassinations. And when times have been bad and I've described the bathroom in excruciating detail. And you still looked. Shame on you.

If you want to know what happens next, then you're just going to have to stick around, aren't you?

New Years Revolutions

Tuesday 22nd January

New Year

I've never been a big fan of the new year. It might be a time of renewal and peace and a chance to try out the bottles in the back of the cupboard that the labels have rotted off and smell vaguely of vinegar.

You know how some people get maudlin about their birthday? Not me. My birthday is a week long national festival where all children are given balloons and all adults condoms and street festivals are held by adoring masses.

No, new year for me is a time of reflection and pain, with the occasional bit of misery thrown in, probably because somebody's found the bottle of black absinthe. Now you see, you might not feel that a bit of introspection is that bad a thing, but when you've got the sensibilities of a crack-addicted jellyfish and the twisted blackened soul of a … well, me then you're not in for the best of times while poking around inside your own psyche while drunk.

So I keep dwelling on everything that I've not done, and how I'm not famous and my inability to keep track of money, health, projects and pretty much anything. Which is why it usually takes me a few weeks to drag myself out of that pit of depression. Well, either that or you can take it as a sign not to drink a full bottle of black absinthe and run naked into the North Sea holding a sharpened harpoon screaming about deadly porpoises. Either way.

The clinic was very nice about it, in case you're wondering. It was very calm.

So I suppose this is where I tell you all about my plans for the upcoming year and figure out what my new years resolutions are. Fair enough. You're not nosy enough the rest of the year are you, no, you've got to keep on at me in a time of personal crisis don't you. DON'T YOU? ADMIT IT? Right then, well sit there and don't even think about moving until I'm done. Pushy bastards.

Right, now we've got that settled…

• I want to be ruder to people. I often discover at the end of an argument I've left them standing, even if their brain is reeling from the brutally intelligent walloping that my superior intellect has handed them. This offends me. When somebody annoys me, then they should at least have the courtesy to start crying once I have finished with them.
• I'm actively thinking about the possibility of considering, maybe, maybe discussing the idea about remotely pondering a suggestion that at some point I might even decide upon a course of action in terms of my debated concept of maybe giving up smoking. There, I've said it.
• I believe it's healthy to hate. I know I do. I have a fair idea that a great many people hate me too. I'm used to it, and more to the point, since I am the sexiest man on the planet, there's plenty to be jealous of. I'm not going anywhere in particular with this rant, I just like to hate things, and I think you should too. Hate me, I'm used to it.
• Gathering of shit together. Actively doing stuff in a timely manner. Heh. Yeah right.
• Invent a completely new and exciting wild adventure. I've not had one in a while. Must try harder. I wonder if this one will involve lots of people I've never met before hating me with a passion and give me a good story for the pub or two. Because everybody knows that the two balance out.
• Must find the time to look at more women in lingerie. Not enough of that is done in this world. I firmly believe that if more political summits were held at lingerie fashion shows then the world would be a much friendlier place.
• I must must must must must must must must STOP having serious conversations with people about serious things while drunk. I shall get a t-shirt that states that all words spoken while drunk are spurious bullshit and must be ignored. On pain of death.
• Will do something creative once a month. That means that by new years eve this year I shall have 12 items of purely creative joy for everyone. That's the big one for 2008. Oooooo, I like that. Shit, I've only got 9 days left for January. Poop.

Best get started then.