This morning started with a rather odd facebook conversation with a couple of people, the exact details of which will remain private for now.

Cracked on with the dinning room. Cleaned up the patio door, then on with the electrics. Turned off the power and there was no beeping from upstairs, the UPS is fucked. Changed the sockets and powered it all back up again, all was fine. Need to buy new UPS. Changed the light switch. Refitted the PIR sensor and heating thermostat. Then did the network port.

Mother then arrived late and then sat there and talked while I put the curtain rail up. God, can she talk. She even got to the point of reading out every Tesco voucher she had. I really don’t give a shit if she gets five pee of a bloody tampon. She handed me the curtains and I threaded them on. They look fine to me, she isn’t happy with them.

I fitted the new light and that’s it, all done. Two years in the making.

Bottled the Californian White, had a glass in the bath, it’s very good.

Jamie has managed to whack up a hell of a bill on my credit card, including cancelled transactions, lovely. Hopefully it will all sort itself out.

Arcade cabinet arriving tomorrow. My sanity may depart.

So today started unlike a normal Monday, basically I wasn’t working. So had breakfast with the dogs, then cracked on moving stuff about, hopefully for the last time. Started on the beading after some more touching up. Got the chop saw out and made a start. It was actually fairly straightforward. Used a lot of ‘no nails’ type stuff, it works really well and holds beautifully. Walked Sasha, had lunch. Managed to finish it all before going to the gym.

Did combat. Came back. Started on the sealing, what a pain in the ass that was. The brown was fine, but both white caulks were broken. Luckily I had a spare one in the garage. Did the lot and touched everything up again. Okay, so if I spent god knows how much longer on it I could cut in finer, but considering none of the walls are even or level it’s a big ask. I’m pretty pleased with the overall result. Need to clean the patio door, then it’s all the sockets and light, as well as the curtain rail. Feel completely knackered now, and I have to do it all again tomorrow.

Oh one thing, I did managed to get a hand signed Dan & Phil poster, and a t-shirt. What a weird stalkery geek I am.

This morning started pretty much how I like Sunday mornings to start, well almost. I let the dogs out. Jamie eventually made me breakfast, but got confused by the coffee machine so I ended up with tea rather than coffee, and bran flakes served with the tinniest of spoons. I ate, drank and read the paper. Eventually I got up and got on with things. I popped the radiator off and got the skirting beading out. It was basically a big rotation between painting the beading, behind the radiator and touching up various bits. Eventually at the end of the day I got round to fitting the new radiator, unfortunately it’s slightly damaged at the top, but they took so bloody long to deliver it that I’ll live with it. I got Jamie down to give me a hand lifting it into position, but he got into a piss when I said don’t grab it from the top and stormed off. I then managed to finally get it all into position and hooked it up. It’s all fine and works well. I didn’t clean up everything as I’m at it again tomorrow.

Jumped in the bath, drank half a bottle of wine. My back is completely fucked. Jamie is now busy maxing out my credit card sorting out new years eve. It sounds like fun, but I’m sure I can wave goodbye to the best part of a grand. The fun thing is, I really don’t care that much about money any more. As Natalie proved, you can’t take it with you. I just know when I’m flying my little helicopter, she’s up there making sure I’m safe.

This brings me to a very very difficult point. How soon is too soon? Someone is married, the wife dies, how soon can the husband then have a new relationship? I really don’t know, it’s a very difficult question. One half of me thinks that the morning should continue quite a while, perhaps at least a year. Yet the other half says that may be for the sake of the children that a new relationship is ideal, and everyone could move on. I don’t know, it’s very difficult. I just have nagging feelings.

Tomorrow, more DIY, two days to go, and then it all must be finished. If my back holds up.

Tomorrow started with me and Dillon in bed. Unfortunately it was Dillon the dog, rather than Dillon Samuels. Work was re-writing that damn context stuff I was doing last night. Got it done and working in a couple of hours, reduces all low level renderer memory allocations to a very low number, well zero.

Then looking at another rather interesting problem. We use deferred rendering, so that has phase 1, which writes depth, normals and gloss, then phase 2 which does screen based lighting, then phase three that combines those two together with the textures to produce the final image. Problem is phase 1 and phase 3 take a long time to build the display lists. I already run them in parallel. But how to make it go quicker? Well, take it one stage further and divide the phases up into chunks, so phase 1 will be split and phase 3, these will then be split across multiple cores. Sometimes my job can be quite obscure, I spend all day staring at tuner profiles.

Walked Sasha, Dillon wasn’t interested. More stuff turned up from Amazon, but not all of it. Still waiting on brushes and tool for spreading caulking. However the chilli willy roulette turned up, secret Santa that one.

Went to Spin, it was fun. Did more work. Watched Danisnotonfire make a Thai Curry. So hopefully everything else will turn up tomorrow. Christmas is coming, must give it a thought at some point. Mother has finished curtains, she’s even said she’ll come here and iron them. She must be feeling guilty about something, may be my life.

It’s quite handy at 3AM when you think, “Oh shit, I need metal primer”. Pick up iPad, click on Amazon app, search primer, click on one click buy and then go back to sleep. If QVC was that easy my mother would be more fucked than she is now.

At 6AM I woke up, at 6:20AM I was in the car with Dillon. At 7AM I was back in bed.

Most of the morning was spent testing threading stuff. Had lunch and then was into more complex issues of contexts, great fun, but mostly working now. Picked up Sasha. Went to Pump. New month, so increased my weights by 2Kg. Jesus did it hurt. Came back and re-wrote the context stuff. Still don’t like it. Tomorrow I will rewrite it again.

The electrical stuff has turned up. The skirting beading has turned up. All the stuff ordered next day from Amazon Prime however, hasn’t.

Do remember to follow me on Twitter, @mannmansion I feel another rant about my childhood coming on.

So this morning I awoke due to the dogs, having had a perfectly normal perverted dream. There was no Keith Lemmon, The Saturdays or any other odd celebs. There were two guys (yes they exist), I was investigating if they were banging each other. Anyway, I woke and let the dogs out, then went back to sleep. I was able to continue the dream, which was quite nice as I wanted to get to the bottom of it (In more ways than one). Woke up with a stonking hard-on, Jamie had gone to work. I got up, drank coffee and re-wrote a memory manager.

Basically all day I’ve been writing this vram memory manager, it’s pretty complex, so I’ve been on ‘Do Not Disturb’ all day and everyone left me alone. It’s going well enough, will probably have it finished tomorrow.

Went to Spin, worked very hard, came back and did another hour of work. Sat down and ordered all remaining items for the dining room. I think that’s everything now except for the door. No idea if I’ve blown the budget or not, mainly because I didn’t have one.

Be going to bed shortly and will attempt to have sex with Jamie, mainly as he’s there and Tom Daley currently isn’t, mind you, that could be tonight’s dream.

So woke up to Tom Daley’s little you tube vid, where he confessed to dating a guy. How truly unremarkable. It’s quite a sad world when he has to do this to quell the media attention. It’s good that a young sportsman has ‘come out’ though, that’ll be inspirational for a lot of young people. His life has slightly mirrored mine, has to wait for dad to die of cancer before coming out. If any of his ex-girlfriends suddenly get back ache, get them to the hospital quick. What the hell does it matter where he wants to put his willy for a bit of fun, or who he wants to go to Ikea with.

Work was a typical Monday morning, in other words I didn’t get a whole lot done. Walked Sasha, Dillon refused.

Went to Combat, talked to Sarah. She did point out that she never could remember mum or dad ever playing with me. This is true, other than dad who used to play snooker with me, he used to call it, “Giving you a hammering”, it was fairly one sided, at least it wasn’t physical. We won’t even mention my attempt at bonding in later life with golf. I have a really terrible picture which my sister found, it’s dad standing with a snooker queue. He has a really dodgy beard and looks like a pedo. I’m glad she didn’t get it printed, it would have ended up in the bin. Anyway, I’ll moan about that more another time.

I’ve booked a couple of days off next week, so I can finally finish all the bloody dinning room stuff. I’ve spent the last hour ordering everything remaining up. As next Wednesday the new arcade cabinet arrives.

This morning started off fine, at about 9:30, which is always a bit strange when the night before you’ve had four pints and probably the best part of a bottle of wine. I eventually persuaded Jamie that breakfast was required for two dogs and me. I ate breakfast and read the paper. The alarm kept going off and I kept on adding another ten minutes. It was Radio 2. Ike and Tina Turner came on with ‘River deep mountain high’. I grabbed hold of Jamie’s winky and started fapping away to the tune. I was getting into the groove. After a couple of minutes it got to the slow bit so I settled into a steady rhythm, then the beat picked up again and he suddenly blurted out, “Oh my god the fucking chorus”, I burst out laughing at that point and that was the end of it. I finished the paper and got up.

So today was all about painting, and lots of it. Sanded the coving and gave that another coat. Stained the wood round the patio door and then did the skirting. Picked up the dog poo and then had lunch. Gave the coving another sand and another coat. Decided the wood stain on the patio door looked shit so just painted that the same as the skirting. After eleven hours it’s all done bar the touching up with a fine brush. Then I need to caulk it all.

In the meantime mother had left two messages on my mobile. The first was moaning that the curtains hadn’t been sewn straight so she had to pin them all up again. Then that she had spent 45 minutes trying to close her curtains because part of the rail had come out. She would then apparently have to spend the next day in the dark as she couldn’t close them, and how was she supposed to do my curtains then, and could I pop round and sort it out. The next message was that she had managed to sort her curtain rail out, but she was still having issues with my curtains, blah blah blah. I didn’t call her back, I really don’t give a flying fuck about her curtain rail. I knew this would cause me grief, I wish now I’d just packed them up and sent them down to Alison to be done. At least then I wouldn’t have to donate a fucking kidney to have them taken up three inches. Everything is just such a fucking chore with her, she has no idea about how much stress it causes for me. I’m not in the greatest of mental states and she does fuck all to help it. I really should have moved country when I had the chance. Remind me Christmas time, there’s a great story about a present we got her, where she turned out to be the worlds most ungrateful bitch.

Finished off, then found Jamie in the bath which was rather inconvenient, so basically had to sit on his fat thighs. Mind you his massive stomach does make a good pillow.

And there we go. He’s now walking the dogs, hopefully then we may eat and its only 00:30.

Anyway folks, if you enjoy reading my whitterings, and want to follow more of my day to day rants about helicopters, Ubuntu, my bad sex life or how much I hate my mother you can follow me on Twitter using @mannmansion I’ll attempt to follow back as many as possible (if anyone follows me at all). Mind you on twitter this evening was Connor Maynard saying he was naked and covered in Nutella, which sounded quite interesting.

So this morning started with some weird dreams which thankfully I didn’t remember. It was actually a really nice sunny but cold day. So I took the dogs up to the field in Almondsbury and they had a good run around off lead. We popped into the vets on the way back and picked up some flee flee and wormy wormy.

Came back and had lunch, then I headed out to B&Q and got some paint for the skirting boards and stain for the patio door. Picked up from crickets, walked into town and bought a shirt. Popped into mothers and dropped off the curtains and gave her six bottles of red.

She then left me a message on my phone to say that she didn’t have the right colour cotton for them and would have to go all the way to John Lewis. Now this slightly annoyed me a bit…I’ve given her about fifty quids worth of wine for taking up a couple of pairs of curtains three inches.

Now for some reason this triggered a couple of really bad memories. Call me an ungrateful bitch if you want, but fuck you, here we go. Lets go back thirty years. I was eleven. PE. Okay, I wasn’t the most athletic kid in school, but I did used to enjoy it, I especially liked basketball. Anyway, I was wearing a pair of white daps that I had inherited from my sister. For PE, I required some white sports socks. I asked mother for some, she said that they were too expensive and I couldn’t have any. But we went to a weird shop in Coldharbour Road, which sold weird shit. There she bought me a pair of girls laced socks and said ‘ah nobody will notice’. Jesus fucking christ, I was eleven, do you think that I wouldn’t be beaten to shit for wearing some girls laced socks. I never wore them, I would have been fucking killed. I just went bear footed, which caused my feet to be completely sore after every PE session. In the end I actually stole a pair of socks out of lost property. I kept these secret and washed them by hand for five years. All because my bitch mother wouldn’t spend a couple of quid on some white sports socks. I was also the only kid that never had any trainers, I felt like a real third world outcast.

And while we are at it, here’s another one. I was very good at rugby. I enjoyed it. It was fairly tactical, so it not only required brawn, it required brains as well. And each type had their own positions. I was asked several times by the school to join the school team as one of the ‘backs’, as I had good tactical skills and could outrun anyone. I always refused, as I knew I would only get the piss taken out of me by my parents. It was always the case that if rugby was mentioned, it was always, “Oh Tim is good at rugby, they use him as the ball”, hahahha, fucking bitches. If there was ever a school for making someone feel very small and insecure, you would be the masters of it. I never did play for the school team. I also never played for the school basketball team, I wasn’t allowed as apparently my shoes were a bit of an embarrassment, but the PE teacher did offer to buy me some! Meanwhile, mother was treating herself to everything available from Gratton, Burlington, Great Universal and Empire Stores.

So if you have kids folks, and they are vaguely interested in any kind of school sports, give them every kind of support you can give. And I don’t mean spend your time on the sidelines swearing at all the other kids. I mean give up buying yet another dress you’ll never wear and buy the kid some trainers that won’t embarrass the shit out of them.

Am I bitter? Yes I fucking am. Is it justified? Well the older I get, I find the more I’m mentally affected by it all. It will come to a point where it will become intolerable. Then it will be a case of her or me. It sounds really bad, but there is only one point when I truly will be free. Somehow at the moment she is still in control, this is tearing me from the inside.

This evening we went out with some of Jamie’s Tesco friends. We went to the Italian and ate turkey which was rather strange. It was a good evening though.

Oh the spoons thing. Yes, in St. Nick’s market there was a probably homeless man with a radio, who was playing the spoons to a radio, it was rather bizarre and rather fascinating at the same time.