No blogging for a whole week? I'd dearly like to say it was because I'd been busy every single one of those days, but that would be a big fat lie. Things have kind of fallen apart here this week, but hey, life just keeps barreling on regardless.

Found this uber-cool picture of a steam-punk Dalek which I thought I'd share just because it's a good start to a blog. Let me see, there must be something worth writing about tonight?

Ah yes - I've finally given in and decided to publish Burn Issue 12. Not 10 minutes ago I pulled it all together and in the morning, I'll swiftly whip through it and treat all of its foibles with mercy. Sometime Monday, we'll be rolling. Job done and onto Issue 13. I might take a few left turns with it for the rest of the year to see what happens.

A few months back I had this great idea for a book - yeah another one and during the course of my research I found some great images that I'd never seen before. I don't know if I'll actually use them in the book so I think I'll post them right here for prosperity. These are the posters that came with each of the Kiss solo albums released in 1978. These were the dictionary definition of gold dust back then - it was my life's mission to find them all but in the 15 years I put into it, I never got more than two of them - Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons. The other two I had never even seen a picture of until I found these. Looking back, they're bloody weird. They all have some kind of retro feel about them but not in a great way. I love them for what they meant at the time but I'm not so sure I'd pay as much money now for them as I would have at one time. They also came with these cut-out bits on the edges so that you could fit them together in a frieze, but the two I had didn't line up so well.

Anyway - for your delectation (and for non-fans, please move along the bus) here they are in all their unholy glory:

It's a work day tomorrow. Absolutely stacks to do. I suppose I should go to bed. Before I do though, a word about the 'diet' I put myself on.

After a bit of a scare on Christmas Day when I discovered I was 15 stone and 2 lbs (I've been that weight a few times but in previous incarnations, it was composed of different items ie: muscle not fat), I decided to get my shit together. After about 5 seconds I decided (loosely) that I would only eat between 6.30pm and 8pm (or thereabouts). Amazingly, I stuck to it for ages, until the middle of last week when I felt as though I needed to pick up the pace a bit. So I started running again. I hate running but two miles a day seemed reasonable.

Still, that didn't seem to be enough of a commitment, so I thought I would cut out eating for that hour and half period as well. So far, so good. Nil by mouth. It's not healthy, it's not big and it's not clever but... on Christmas Day I was 15 stone 2 lbs and today, slightly less than a month on, I'm 14 stone and 2 lbs. I haven't been down that far in years. I don't know how much longer I can keep it up but I reckon another 4-5 weeks at least should be interesting in the name of science.

If I can crack 13 stone (last seen circa 1994), I'll start eating again and might even think about joining a gym. I think 12 stone might be a bit ambitous but you never know, I might change my mind when I get down that far. I feel I must add at this point, should any of you be truly concerned, that I am neither anorexic nor bulemic. Why only this evening, I found a chocolate chip muffin in the kitchen, so that was mine. I also had some Skips that somebody left lying around and a single Fruit Pastille. Yes, I'm really hungry all of the time, but the secret lies in not having to think about it. Eat only to stop yourself feeling so sick that you might pass out.

I think I'd look ill at 12 stone though. I'm starting to look a bit rough around the edges now. Still, I might be able to get back into those £200 buckskin pants I bought last millenium. Anybody want to see that?

No - thought not.