So here we are, 2011!

My 8th different year that I've been on Newgrounds (04-11) and I'm planning on making the most of it! Only this morning, I've launched the latest Monthly Writing Contest for budding authors to write up a script for a flash movie. I'm hoping for a big uptake, as this could be the impetus that we really need.

So, as usual, onto the resolutions:

1) Reach deadlines on time
2) Make more Audio submissions
3) Stat whorage
4) New job? That might have to come, but we'll see what comes
5) Embrace my creativity and for the love of any divine being out there caring to listen STOP PROCRASTINATING!

I'm sure that there are other things I could do at the moment, like saying about keeping fit, rediscovering the long lost abdominal muscles and improving on my cricket, but we'll leave it at that and see what comes in the new year.

Happy 2011, folks!

Well, after performing the most subtle of ruses in the Levelup! Lounge, nearly getting rumbled by gfox and having my cover blown by the fact that Tom didn't change my username for a few days, I have now been reborn as Coop. Get used to it, this is probably the only major username change that I'll ever have.

Sure, in the past, we did the fad ones, but they just aren't the same as something like this. Akin to Bahamut7 losing the 7 and creating an alt, Jolly did go and create an account called Coop83. His choice, but I kind of wanted to see what kind of sad bastard would run around the BBS pretending to be me, albeit armed with a lollipop. DENIED!

As for closer to home, now that the snow has started in earnest, I was considering taking my walking boots and hiking to work today. Since I had minions to drop off at school, I had to brave the roads in my new car, while cringing most of the way, as I can't afford a bargain like this again and don't want to get it pranged.

Now I need to consider how to get out of the office, should the snow get worse...

Okay, so with another ticket in my back pocket, a car load of us headed out to Sixways at Worcester for the RFU championship clash for the top of the table (though scarcely dominant) Worcester Warriors playing host to Plymouth Albion. The weather was cool, but the sun showed that it still has the power to blind those of us in the Slick Systems Stand, as we watched some opening exchanges, which largely involved Plymouth running at us and losing possession and then sloppy defending from Worcester allowing the same to happen again.

After the first half, a few penalties scattered about meant the score was 9-3 to the Warriors. On my way to the bar at the interval, the fans were querying if the real Worcester Warriors could come out after the break, so we could see some entertainment, as the sun went down.

Sadly, in a poor show of form, I missed the dancing girls during the interval. This mistake will never happen again!

After the break, Worcester were invigorated... sort of. They chased their kicks and put some pressure onto the Plymouth players. Sadly, this did leave us a little exposed at the back and only a last ditch tackle from hard working Fly Half Joe Carlisle prevented Plymouth Scrum Half Mark Lee from emulating the heroics of Chris Ashton against Australia, with an 80+ yard run being bundled across the touch line.

Worcester weren't so lucky the next time and Lee got his well deserved try, to earn Albion a deserved lead. However, this seemed to wake Worcester up and the introduction of a new front row, including 6' and 18st 7lb hooker Oliver "Tomahawk" Tomaszczyk, brough some urgency to the game.

Not looking back from there, the massive shout of "HEAVE!" and "WARRIORS!" from the stands propelled Pat Sanderson across the line to take the lead, followed by run in tries from backs Marcel Garvey (pictured) and Tom Arscott. With a few minutes to go, the Tomahawk struck and barrelled his way past four defenders, placing the ball across the line, securing the bonus point for Worcester.

A win that we didn't deserve and an hour of rugby that was utterly shite, capped by a diamond 20 minutes at the end of the match. I do feel a little sympathetic for Plymouth, as the scoreline was very flattering to the hosts. A bigger crowd (~5,700) watched than was present for the Doncaster tilt, but Worcester need to pick up their game if they wish to hold their own with the likes of the sides in the Aviva Premiership, should we gain promotion.

As Coop and Zendra sat on their mounts, encircled by the advancing horde, Zendra looked across at the experienced knight, who studied his opponents, the helm turning slowly from left to right, as their mounts turned slow circles. The scythe in Coop's hand was held loosely and Zendra wondered if he was ever going to ready the black weapon.

"Are you well, Coop? You don't look like you can lift your arm."

"Well enough to give you a run for your money, my friend. I still draw breath, so I feel at an advantage." A screaming visage of Bitey of Brackenwood leapt at him and Coop fended it off with a mere swipe of his left arm, the shield lifting it over the knight's heads and into the crowd on the other side. The snarls of these creatures of shadow and deceit were low and threatening. "Remember, stay close to me and we will hold this line." Zendra nodded, as one of his opponents was brought down with a thrust of his sword. The battle had begun.

Sensing their superiority was in numbers, the masses gathered and surged forward, towards the two valiant knights. Dawn Chaser kicked out, her powerful legs reducing a two combatants behind to ethereal projections, as Coop fought sparingly, his shield absorbing blows and throwing the advancing members of the mob under the hooves of the horses, or under the feet of their comrades.

The cut and thrust of Zendra's sword was ruthless and sometimes wild, while the man he fought back-to-back with conducted himself with much more efficiency. After the first few had merely been parried with his good arm, he brought his right arm to good use and carved a deep slash up through the chest of one advancing aberration. The thing fell back, gurgling and instantly another of its comrades stood in the gap. A kick with his left foot brought the point of his toe into play and another one fell back with a nasty looking shoulder injury.

The creatures were getting restless and the knights continued their futile looking defence, against the swarm. "One swing should be enough to kill one - hit one, then move onto another, Zendra!" As one many-legged thing vaulted the crowd at Coop, he moved the shield aside and met the oncoming jaw with his fist of steel. As the creature fell, unconscious, it managed to push a few of it's fellow combatants into the ground with the weight of it's large frame. Zendra nodded and then began practicing the economical swings, as demonstrated by a master of the craft.

Due to their massive numerical advantage, spammers were beginning to gain the upper hand over their foes. While sporadic fighting had also begun in outlying areas around the combat zone, most of the greedy eyes of the spammers were focussed upon the Knights Moderator fending off their minions in the centre of the melee.

Having brought his right arm into use, Coop felt the burning pain of the wound, like a line of fire along his underarm. Inside his helm, he winced and through gritted teeth drove the blade across the throat of a foe with a raised sword, splattering the nearby combatants with blood and ichor.

The scythe held at arms length, Coop knew that he was vulnerable then. As another large creature vaulted over the mess of bodies and into the knight, Coop was thrown from Dawn Chaser's saddle and he tumbled over across the ground, amongst biting, hacking and clawing beasts of all manner of shapes. Zendra tried to carve a way through the masses, while Dawn Chaser kicked and bucked her way towards her master, but Coop was nowhere to be seen, beneath the clamour of bodies obstructing their view.

As he had fallen, the scythe had tumbled from his hand. Seeking to protect himself, he used the shield to great affect, blocking fists and claws that sought his flesh out. He crawled along on his back, trying to find a spot of daylight that would allow him to stand, where the fiends would face the wrath of Coop, injury or not.

He backed up against something solid, which lowered a massive claw of a hand, gripping Coop around the throat. His free hand scrabbled, desperate to try and find something to use, as he punched his opponent with the shield, though it seemed to make little impact upon the armoured skin of this beast.

The massive hand lifted Coop from his back and hoisted him up in the air, while a second hand ripped off his helm. As Coop rose, his fingers wrapped around a piece of wood, finished with metal fixings. Rising from the floor, he felt the weight of this item was quite substantial. Sagging his left arm, as if defeated, the creature brought him face to face with a gaping maw, outlined in tentacles. At this point, Coop chose to strike, swinging his new found weapon at the creature's face.

The double-headed axe glided through the air, separating a few tentacles from the horrific visage as it entered the flesh. The head struck true and in shock, the beast released Coop, who dropped to the floor, the pain of the mighty swing fading into the heat of the battle, which had overcome him.

Clutching a hand to what was left of it's face, the creature screamed an horrific, guttural whine, that caused rippled of disquiet amongst the ranks of the spammers and their creations. Zendra broke through their massed ranks and slashed his sword across the creature, which stumbled backwards at this, before being hit by a volley of arrows. Coop cast his gaze to where the arrows had come from and saw a group of men standing atop a hill, no more than a hundred yards from where they stood. Nodding his head toward his saviours, Coop swung his axe into the midriff of an approaching skeleton, scattering bone across the landscape and watching as the rout started. Seeing their leader drop to it's knees and keel over was the last straw. The ranks of spammer turned and fled, some of them being cut down by the archers on the hill, others falling prey to Coop and Zendra. Re-mounting, Coop chased down a few stragglers and ended their miserable existences on the hill, before returning his focus to the hill.

"Looks like we got here just in time, Sir Coop." The bowman stood there, clad in leather greaves and leant gently on his bow, while smiling at the two knights, approaching.

"That was time enough, reverend. I still sit here before you, do I not?"

"Aye, that you do. One of these days, you'll be thankful for someone like me showing up, that's for sure." Coop dismounted and shared a left handed shake with the bowman, reverend, as Zendra also dismounted.

"Have you been introduced before? Reverend, this is Sir Zendra, of the Knights Moderator. Zendra, this is reverend, a friend of mine with a sharp eye, from Whereisnia."

"I've heard of you, reverend, though I've never had the pleasure. Well met!" While Zendra and reverend exchanged, Coop noticed an insignia on a gold chain dangling around reverend's neck.

"You never told me that you made commander. We'll see you with your wings yet." Coop clapped reverend on the shoulder and felt the pain returning from his wound. He winced.

"Yeah, I got it a few days ago - there have been plenty of refugees to escort and that has given me a chance to show my quality. Are you alright, Coop? You don't look all that well."

"Nothing that a good meal, a hot bath and a decent bed would not cure." Coop flexed his arm, trying to get the pain to lessen, but it would not.

"There is an inn not too far from here. Is that a new axe? I thought you styled yourself with the black scythe that Prince Wade had given you." Reverend's keen eye rarely missed a trick.

"It fell from my hand on the field and alas, I have not been able to find it since."

"Let us adjourn, then. SERGEANT!" One of the reverend's charges turned about and approached the three men.

"Don't let the men get over eager with the clear up. Have them kept busy for a while, then bring them back to town."

"Sir. Camp on the town's outskirts?"

"Nay. We shall dine at the inn and the men shall all have a decent bed tonight." The sergeant saluted and walked away, addressing the soldiers, as the two knights escorted their mounts toward town, with reverend.

The men under command of reverend returned to the town by nightfall and Coop was especially glad of the respite. Zendra regaled all in the tavern with tales of heroism and battles against the odds, his embellishment passing unnoticed by all but a few. The food was good and the beds were soft, causing Coop to fall into a deep slumber for the first time in weeks. His dreams were strangely memorable this evening, as he lay there in the White Hart Inn.

"Coop. You knock on the doors of our hallowed hall. Once we were mighty - now only a few remain. A great burden is placed upon these few and you must be willing to carry the torch of righteousness, else the doors shall remain sealed." The booming voice coming from the shadows caused Coop to sit bolt upright. He moved to the side of his bed and pilled a dagger from his belt.

"Who are you? What manner of sorcery is this?" He asked, as he stepped around his bed, noting the feel of stone underfoot and no other furniture within the room.

"We are the Guardians of Newgrounds. We watch from the shadows and strike down all that seek to overrun this land. We are the Blammers."

"And you yourself?" Coop took slow, quiet paces into the darkness around the bed, attempting to find the source of the mysterious, but somehow strangely familiar voice.

"I would have thought that you would have recognised me. For one such as yourself, who follows in my footsteps."

"I know your voice, stranger, though I know not your name. Show yourself!" As Coop bellowed the command at the darkness, a corridor lit up away from the bed. Curious stonework greeted Coop as he made his way down this unfamiliar passage. The large double doors at the end of this corridor were ornately carved and bore a motif that was foreign to Coop's eyes. It was a shield, with a lion, striking down what looked like a unicorn. Almost too detailed to be a coat of arms. Convinced that he should enter, Coop placed his hand flat on the door and pushed. When the door did not yield to him, he braced himself and put his back into the shove. Still, the door did not move.

Casting his mind back momentarily, Coop remembered what the voice had told him. "You knock on the doors of out hallowed hall." As he stood before these doors, he raised a bunched fist and brought it down onto the door. His hand caused an echoing thump on the other side and he brought it down twice more to the same effect.

The door opened slowly and deliberately. Coop stepped through, as the voice commanded "Enter, Coop." A vast hall greeted him, the walls disappearing into the darkness. As he walked along, he saw a powerfully built man, sat on what looked like a throne, a fur lined cloak wrapped around his shoulders. Age was starting to take its toll and the older man looked as if he has seen many years of strife judging by the scars on his arms. Coop became aware of the footsteps making a lot of noise as he approached and the man looked up from his musing.

The man on the large chair looked up and stared straight into Coop's eyes. As realisation dawned upon Coop, the man smiled at him and the room fell away from Coop, as the darkness descended.

Suddenly, he found himself wrestling with something warm and soft, which was entangling him. As he freed himself from the terrors of his duvet, Coop sat up in bed, the moonlight glistening off the beads of sweat on his bare, well muscled chest. For the first time since he awoke, Coop noticed the dagger in his hand and moved to the side of the bed, where his belt hung. Replacing the dagger in its sheath, he declared one word.

"Denvish."

26,000 Blams
Top 50 Blammer

Technically, the season never finishes, because with all of the sports I watch, one always gets overlapped by another. This makes for a never ending trail of sports that I can stay up to date with pretty much through the year and also makes for a boring morning's surfing on December 24th - 26th. Still, I've just played what will probably turn out to be my last game of the year on the cricket pitch and what a damp and somewhat dismal affair it was.

The season started out with some good net sessions and a lot less bruises than I've nursed over previous seasons. A little soreness is customary, for getting rid of that off-season rust, but shifting a little excess from around the middle has proven to be a thorn in my side. I must still do something about that, but we'll see.

We began with a few friendly matches, to get our bearings on the field and see what we were looking at for the year. With all of the work I've been putting in over the off season, it's always annying to see a guy that hasn't taken a single practice just stroll up and take 5 wickets in his first bowling action of the year. Still, with Luke Groves getting his maiden ton and Dan Soley taking 5-not a lot, we rolled over Neen Solars at a ground that we had a job to find. The long and winding dusty track eventually leading us back to the pub, for a well earned post-match drink. Sunburn in England is really harsh, because you don't expect it.

The first league game rolled around quickly, against hotly fancied Bridgnorth, but we were informed by the skipper a day before that they had cried off, due to not being able to get a side together. That equated to our first win of the year and considering that we managed 2 all of last season, we began on the highest of highs.

One game after another and Cookley started to find themselves at the sharp end of the Sunday League, with a full head of confidence. Four wins, no losses and two matches abandoned due to the weather. Sundays weren't the only team I played for though. Brian, the impromptu Wednesday skipper, after the disappearance of Ad Matthews to Brighton and stand in Mark Hadley's persistent unavailability meant I was promoted from "only use me if you're desparate, as Wednesday is Cinema Night, if anything good is on", to "You're available this week, aren't you?"

Playing a few games for the Wednesdays proved pretty fruitless, as I rarely got the chance to do anything, except for providing an easy wicket for John Martin in the Senior Cup, as Cookley A beat Cookley B, by a tactical shelling of the new pavillion building site.

At this point in the year, we lost two players from the Sunday team, as Brett Murphy disappeared off the face of the earth, while his vice captain, Mark Hadley pretty much followed suit. No matter, Brian can captain this team as well, as I was promoted to head scorer and daily treasurer, where it was my responsibility to collect monies and write the scores in the book while everyone else had a bat.

On a soggy night at Kidderminster Victoria, the best ground in town, I managed to eclipse my previous best with the bat and put on a little show, despite the fact that we lost, we would not give up. 20 not out was great and briefly saw my average climb into the 30s with the bat, which is awesome. Fortunately, this also saw the weather improve, but I believe the circumstances to be mutually exclusive.

Having lost to the "A-Team" earlier in the season, we were given a place in the Invitation Cup and lined up against the Sportsman at Stone. We went out to field on a nice warm evening and on the first ball, I was thust into action, as the ball neatly ended up pouched at deep backward point. Impressed with my fielding resume and the fact that I'd taken a few wickets on Sundays, Brian the skipper thrust me into action, where I duly obliged, with one wicket for six runs off my first over. The next over, I allowed a single to the "lead partner", but wickets fell so often that the lead wasn't really acknowledged all that much. Then I proceeeded to systematically remove the next three wickets in three balls for my first ever hat trick. Caught behing, bowled and then caught at backward square leg (Google if you need to know) by the skipper. The jug was on, but the pub didn't do jugs, so a round of halves had to suffice.

In the next round, I duly obliged again and added that to my spree which saw me take 18 wickets in the best part of 6 games. On one of the Sunday matches, I returned career best figures of 4 wickets for 7 runs and was called "devastating" by the local media. How little they know. Our second cup game followed towards the end of July and we adanced to the final on the 25th of August, while still racking up the wins on Sundays. By this point, we had still to lose and had racked up 6 wins, which was a season best for this league. Then we ran into Bridgnorth.

The titans of Division 3, Bridgnorth had conceeded the first match of the season to us and had understandably got a powerful batting and bowling lineup, with players from the Birmingham League taking the field against us. We restricted them a little and they managed 190 from their 40 overs, which was good (some of my 18 wickets streak came here as well), before we went to bat.

Batting at number 4 is pretty daunting, though I had managed a career best score here earlier in the season, so I strode out and guided a few balls around the pitch, moving to 14, before I got myself out, frustratingly, as I had felt in good touch. Then it was back to the basics and getting the score book to add up once more, in spite of the makeshift scoring having made a mockery of it. Will Morgan and Brian guided us to respectability in our one and only loss for the season.

Moving into the final stretch of the season, we concluded a mediocre season in the Wednesday League, but focussed on the cup final. On Sunday, we beat Belbroughton, a team that I had never previously beaten and the league was staying tight. Thanks to Romsley & Huntingdon, Bridgnorth finally slipped up, pulling both us and them into a tie for the top spot. Heading into the bank holiday weekend, we were tied for points at the top, with Bridnorth having played all 12 matches and us crucially having one left. (8 wins, 1 loss, 2 abandoned for rain) Sleepless nights ahoy.

Wednesday the 1st of September, after the rain the week before had caused the game to be abandoned, we met with Gas for the fourth time this year. Finally, with a chance to beat them, we made it count, tight fielding restricting them to 129 from their 96 balls. We went out and while there were a few early wickets falling, Will Morgan guided us home with a massive 6 over square leg, to guide us to 130 from 89 balls. We were cup champions!

Not content to stop there, we met Pedmore yesterday, despite the early rain and claimed the toss, as they had not showed up early enough. Putting them into bat, we bowled them out for the princely sum of 85. Confident, Brian immediately assigned me with #4 in the lineup once more, "as you've not had a game". Clearly, my bowling arm has been shut down for the year. Who do they think I am? Marc Rzepczynski?

Waiting my turn, we lost a wicket with 30 on the board and as Luke "Byker" Groves was still in the changing rooms, I strode out at a career highest #3. Nerves? Hell Yes! After flailing miserably at the first few offerings and chastising myself heavily for these, I managed to get off the mark, as John Martin decided that he was going to get out with a silly shot to the slips. Enter Groves.

Cometh the hour, cometh the man. He promptly started to despatch most of the balls he saw to the ropes for 4s and 6s, which left me with a bit of time to consider what was going on from the non-striker's end. I scored occasionally, getting myself a few singles and up to the mighty score of 6. Ironic really, as that was what Luke hit to win the match and the league, dispatching a similar shot to Morgan's from Wednesday night. The beverages flowed and we were crowned champions.

That's not bad for 6 seasons at Cookley - 3 league titles, 2 cups. Not as good as my Dad, but I doubt I'll get into a national village knockout side and all the way to Lords, to win something like that. Still, I've had a lot of fun this year.

Edit - now that we've had the awards presented, I managed to sneak out with the Sunday League trophy and my raffle prize - a 12 year old single malt.

Alright, so on the 6th - 9th of August this year, I was in London with Bex, at the NG Meet. We had an awesome time. So awesome, that we never really got around to telling folks about what we did there. *ahem*

Day 1 - 6th August

Right, so let's start at the beginning, where myself and Bex boarded the train and made for Birmingham and the change of trains that followed. I wasn't in the best of moods, having run around to get everything sorted and, as it turned out later, having forgotten half of the gear. Still, having sculpted the last of "project Bezman" out of my facial hair, we made out way to London Marylebone and Waterloo, before heading to our abode for the weekend.

Let's face it, Travelodges are there for sleeping and the occasional meal, so I wasn't expecting the world, but they impressed. Aside from trying to use the stairs as opposed to the lifts to get to the 3rd floor, which was an adventure in itself, we found the room to be to our liking. Mobile internet was working and I had the time of my life getting sorted out for the evening's festivities.

We made a journey across the river and looked around Parliament and Westminster itself, Bex bearing the brunt of my half-baked knowledge, when she asked the question "So, what did Oliver Cromwell do?" Eventually, we decided that it was time to make our way to Wapping for the meet proper. Piling into the crowded pub, people like Leanne, Harry, Kez, Paul and Luis greeted us as returning friends and then I turned around to catch sight of legendary user Bahamut and so the evening's banter began.

With various songs being sung (Bahamut and I performed Ace of Spades; I collabed with Leanne on Danger! High Voltage!, while I sang Hold the Line solo.) Some of the other songs that rocked the house were Gay Bar (sorry Leo) and of course 500 Miles (I'm gonna be) performed by Kieran and Grant, which was so awesome, the machine decided it could not take any more, so it had to shut down for a while to recover.

If you ever try to take a photo of the back of therealanimator's jacket, where it says "This is not a photo opportunity", try to do so before getting a little inebriated. I learned this the hard way.

We partied long and hard (some harder than others, as Andy (Bahamut) downed 5 pints of Guinness within the first hour and a half) and as a result, missed the last train. Fortunately, the bus was still working and we managed to get back to our hotel, from some convenient drunken navigation. "What stop is this? Southwark? Shit, we've got to go! *fall off bus*"

Made the way back to the hotel, no more issues.

Day 2 - 7th August
The day began well with a lie in followed by a hearty breakfast, which left us with a little time before we went to the Eye. Gathering our things and setting forth, we tubed to Waterloo, noting that the Jubilee line (poshest line on the underground) was closed from Waterloo, so we changed, costing us tourism time. No matter, when we got off at Embankment, we made for Cleopatra's needle and took more photos of the wonderful monument that had found it's way from Ancient Egypt to modern London.

Crossing our third (and last) bridge of the trip, we approached the Eye from the Millennium bridge and spotted some Newgrounders loitering about in the usual spot. I was greeted warmly by Sean and we exchanged a bit of banter about the goings on of the last year. Absent friends were remembered in Dangan, Cally and for some reason sirtom93 and GOTHCLAWZ.

Harry was absent for this part of the day, because he was watching a football game. In the middle of the summer. It was only Fiorentina against some pub team from London!

Still, obligatory group photos later, we traipsed indoors and began the games. I wasn't much for the gaming this time around, but still joined in with the bowling, a little race or two on the superbikes and of course, the road rage fest, that is NG Dodgems (apologies for the lack of quality - it was only my phone!)

Always remember, if you're in the Namco Experience in London, don't venture upstairs for a Crap in a Bap from McDonalds - stay downstairs and enjoy a burger. Well worth it, plus you don't have to queue for half an hour. Seriously, I do more for the marketing of that place's burgers than any of their staff!

About 6ish, Tom gathered the troops and we set off under the guide of our unwilling shepherd through a soggy central London. Fortunately, Bex had walked around with the brolly, so we were saved (sort of), as Andy, Bex, myself and Rob (what's your username?) were constantly fighting over who could fit under the brolly and the puddles meant rather wet feet, due to the incredible amount of footfall. Still, not to worry, we're English and that means we're used to this sort of thing!

Camden town was the next stop on the odyssey, so we disembarked, losing such users as Leo, who looked like a frightened gimp, as the train pulled off, leaving him inside. They did eventually find their way back to us.

Walking through Camden Town, you notice that as you leave the Station, the first pub you see is "The Camden Eye". Just along the street is "The Worlds End" and it's club in the basement, "Underworld". Clearly, they are a bunch of pessimists here, which is a shame. We found a seriously metal bar, which Andy, Bex and a few others wanted to stop at, but the group carried on, despite Grant and a few others getting comfy with pints in there. It seems that they didn't fit in with the dress code, their pastel colours showing up against the blacks and... blacks of everyone else.

I almost stopped at a market stall and bought a hat, as the idea of a fedora was truly one I could scarcely resist. Later on in the evening, I went on the lookout for stalls that were still open alongside Lost-Chances and Andy, but we were unsuccessful. Clearly, that would have to wait.

Still, after a brief interlude, where I ate most of Keith's onion rings and lots of Pimms was consumed, we adjourned outside for some fresh air, recovering from the Eis Whars that had ensued. Discussions were mostly bizarre, with the canal being the focus, but since we're seen a few being from near Birmingham, it was not really that interesting for us, though Kieran did want to own his own private canal and narrowboat. Good luck man. About this time, my recently repaired watch strap decided that it was going to break, so bang went my ability to tell the time, as it got packed away securely in Bex's handbag.

Upon returning from the failed shopping trip, we regathered and encountered a slightly concerned looking Shaun, who revealed that Sarah had gone off with Zictor and he couldn't contact either of them. Still, I guess everything is alright now... I hope :P

Breaking for a new venue, as Weatherspoons only have limited appeal, we crossed the street and tried to get into another boozer, being told "mixed groups only", despite having a few girls in Bex and Sucho. We need more females to get in next time! The guys eventually found a new venue, which was charging for admittance, so that was an ideal time to break from the meet.

Travelling back, we encountered a couple that were probably from that Hobgoblin Metal Bar in Camden - they looked like the type. Comments were passed that the woman's choice of PVC hotpants were solely for the purpose of diverting attention from her face. Some of your guys probably know who I mean. We said our final goodbyes and made our way back to base.

Day 3 - 8th August
Trying to decide what happens with everything on the Sunday, being our last day in London, we went to the Imperial War Museum and encountered a couple of "Fuck off Big Guns", as well as a lot of racist paraphernalia, which I might just have to make a thread about at some point. Although, there was a funny tank from WWII (below). From there, we decided that we should kick back and relax, taking time to stroll around Regent's Park. Had we known that the meet did indeed continue for another day, I'd have given Lost-Chances his wish and gone hat hunting with him, but still.

Various wildlife later, we eventually managed to see a wild Heron, which was a rare thing, so Bex just had to get close up and managed to get within about 6', which was pretty good. Sadly, my camera isn't up to wildlife photography and it was time to call it a day.

Day 4 - 9th August
The final day of a packed holiday and we took a detour back to Camden Town and spent the last of the money on a hat and a jacket for Bex. Having blown a shedload of money on this trip, I'm loathe to look at the credit card bill that landed on my doorstep yesterday, though it was worth it. We just about arrived in time for the train and bid farewell to London once more.

The journey was smooth, but once we passed Banbury, I lost my internet connection, which was a trifle depressing. Still, I managed to reach my goal, which was passing Bahamut, before the end of the meet. I was officially ahead of him before we left London Marylebone and he was very gracious in telling me how long it had taken me to finally catch him up.

I look forward to seeing you all again next year. Peace out!

"Jeez man, what the hell happened to you."

"I took a cricket ball in the face."

Wow, that sounds so... well, it doesn't sound like I got into a fight or anything worthy of being proud of, to be honest, as we came up short in the match and I came back with a black eye (see below). Running to a straight position, I ended up with a manageable ball, which bounced quite high. I moved my hands to above my head, anticipating that the ball would (hopefully) slap my hands and stay in play, saving a few runs.

Sadly, my calculations forgot that key part of Newtonian Physics - the theory of gravity, which pulled the ball below my hand and into my eye / eyebrow area. Following on from earlier references to Newtonian Physics, I hit the deck like a sack of spuds and went through my reboot sequence, to try and remember what day it was.

Well, with the bruise seemingly getting worse every time I look at it, I'll be posting updated pictures of how this looks no doubt, so check back for more pics.

This news post it tinged with sadness, for in the past few days, the New York Yankees family has lost two of their legends.

The "Voice of God", Robert Leo "Bob" Sheppard. 20th October 1910 - 11th July 2010

"The Boss", George Michael Steinbrenner III 4th July 1930 - 13th July 2010.

Two very different personalities within the Yankees organisation, both sadly missed. The former PA announcer, who always conducted his duties with the minimum of fuss and maximum of effect. His voice will still be heard, announcing the presence of Yanks Captain Derek Jeter in the batters box at home games. The Boss rebuilt the Yankees from the doldrums of being worth about $8.7m back in the 70s to a powerhouse of a franchise that is worth billions today. Granted, he had some help along the way, but the Yankees did draw inspiration from his vision. So passes one of the most colourful owners in the history of Major League Baseball.

Rest in peace, gentlemen. You've done the organisation proud.

Right, down to business, where I've been to Ikea and bought some £300 worth of furniture for that project with my bedroom that I started last December. Yeah, I finally have the money and the inclination to get the furniture sorted. So, bundled off in mum's car, we headed to Ikea and I promptly picked up a wardrobe, chest of drawers, two bedside cabinets and a desk, before returning back to base.

10pm is probably a bad time to start thinking about putting together a bunch of flat pack furniture and I was right. Still, at about half 10, I started putting together the first bedside cabinet, much to the derision of the Stickam community at large.

Now however, I've been able to complete all of the parts which required some serious bashing with a hammer, as opposed to a few gentle taps from the handle of my screwdriver and I have unit 1 of 5 completed. Tonight, if I have no cricket, I should get the other bedside table done and might even consider having a bash at the desk, but that might be getting too far ahead of myself.

In the house of the apothecary, he sat on the makeshift bed, trying not to wince as the stitches were pulled tight. Another scratch on the road to glory. What more could be said for progress?

"You're not as young as you once were, my lad. One of these days, it'll get you killed."

"Don't you think that I don't know that? Maybe I'll have done something worthwhile by then and my life will have been used well." Coop ran his fingers through his hair, trying to remain unaware of the sensation of the thread running through his flesh, binding the wound closed.

"At least you'll have another fine scar to show to your... friends."

"You were to say something else there, Doctor?"

"And what if I were, William?" A flash of a name not heard for a long time, suddenly made Coop feel very fragile indeed.

"You win. I suppose you were going to say something like 'children' or 'descendants', but thought better of it." The apothecary tied off the thread in a knot and snapped the cord, bringing one last grunt of discomfort from Coop.

"How does that feel?" Coop stood and flexed his arm, noting that he was unable to get it moving completely

"A little stiff, but as always, serviceable. I can't straighten my arm now, though. When do the stitches come out?"

"Give it a few days and see how things are. If it still weeps, leave it a while longer. If it turns worse, seek help. Don't go overdoing it, either - I know what you're like."

"Thank you for that enduring confidence, Doctor." Coop pulled his undershirt over his head and donned his armour, careful not to damage his newly repaired arm. He thanked his old friend, the apothecary for once again sewing him up, by way of a generous tip. Returning to the tavern, he went back up to his room, leaving a few minutes later, dressed as a common man, with no markings of the Knights Moderator about him.

The town seemed reasonably quiet and as the folk of the town bustled past on their business. He strolled, watching and listening for trouble, as a concerned citizen such as himself should. As his finely tuned senses caught snatches of conversation, he smiled at how most people did not even pay him any mind. Had he been a cat, his ears would have pricked at the mention of the word 'flood', spoken in a hushed whisper, as he walked past an alleyway. Bending down to tie his boot lace, he listened and considered what was heard.

"By the time that anyone realises what is going on, the place will be overrun. No-one will be able to help them!"

"And that is when we..."

"Yes, we strike. Here, get yourself some supplies and spread the word." As the one man turned to walk off, his accomplice hissed after him. "Be selective, this time."

"What, so don't tell people like Gagsy that it's tomorrow?"

"Come here, numb nuts." As they closed together once more, the man in the doorway clapped his hand across the back of his partner's head, irritably. "You know that she is actually friends with some of the Knights. Why would you tell her anything like this?!"

"Who should I tell, then?"

"Twilight, Haxxed, RedSpades, Mr. 1-2. Think outside the box and get out of my sight." As the cowed man scurried away, Coop stood back up and continued on his way.

A few hours later, he returned to his room at the Inn. Sitting at the desk, he took out a quill, some paper and a vial of ink. Considering the conversation, he wrote two notes.

"Zendra,

We must be wary - I suspect a large scale attack on the Flash Portal, in order to distract the Knights Moderator and Prince Wade's attention. I will speak to a few contacts and get an increased presence. Please ask those that will be walking the streets at the time to be wary. I will be taking the field. Please advise the princes, as I feel that messages sent normally will not get through.

Your Friend,

Coop"

Quickly sealing this note and marking it to distinguish it from the second, he grabbed the second piece of parchment.

"Eagle,

I hope my letter finds you well - time is of the essence, I am afraid, my friend. I feel that there will be a large scale invasion tomorrow in the realm of the Flash Portal. I shall take the field personally and while I know that we can count upon people like Lady Byteslinger and yourself, I feel that attempts to mobilise more of a force will be greatly appreciated.

Hoping to see you there tomorrow, it is always a pleasure to fight alongside one such as yourself.

Sir Coop"

Having sealed both letters, Coop dressed back in the armour and tabard of the Knights, before stepping out into the street. A young boy was meandering down the street, almost idle.

"You there, boy. I have a job for you."

"Me sir?"

"Yes. Do you know the Castle of the Knights Moderator?"

"Everyone does, sir."

"Good lad. Take this message there with all haste. Sir Zendra stands guard at the gate. Give it to him. Coop produced a gold coin from the pouch at his side and crossed the boy's palm with it, before letting him go in stunned silence. A few minutes later, a second message was winging its way across the country to EagleRock. Almost anxious for something to do, Coop retired to the barracks, to test his arm.

A few hours later, it had become painfully obvious to Coop that his left arm would not cope with the strain of holding a shield for any amount of time on the fields of strife. Tired, but not completely exhausted, he returned to the tavern to dine and sleep. He walked in through the door, to be greeted by the innkeeper, who poured him an ale and took an order for food. As Coop turned around to look at the rest of the tavern, he noticed that there was a shadowy figure in the corner where he favoured sitting. He deposited a few coins on the bar, making sure to tip generously.

"Don't let me go thirsty tonight, Horace."

"Right you are, sir." The barman quietly pocketed the coin and went about his business, as Coop wandered over to his regular table.

"I didn't expect you to show up so quickly. I take it you've passed the news on." The figure smiled as Coop pulled up a chair and sat down. "Or that you'd show up today, for that matter - it is a long ride, after all."

"Well, I felt that I could make the effort today and save some energy for tomorrow, Coop. It's been a while since I stood on the field for any length of time."

"Well, I've been doing it for a while, but I'm sure you'll get back into it, Zendra. It's just like riding a horse - once you learn, you never forget." Both men reached across the table and grabbed one another's forearms just below the elbow in a gesture of solidarity. "It could be difficult tomorrow," Coop lowered his voice and leaned in towards Zendra: "I have a wound that makes swinging difficult." Coop lifted his right arm and patted his ribcage, to which Zendra nodded.

"Don't you worry, here sits another friendly face destined for the field tomorrow. I told Poozy to be on lookout and he got a few more Knights drummed up for shifts. We get the field to take care of business, so that will be fun."

The evening passed with recounting tales of times shared as friends and colleagues, so spirits were high, as the pair approached the fields of the Flash Portal that next morning.

"It seems quite calm at the moment, perhaps nothing will happen." Zendra looked around, seeming quite pleased at this.

"I know you don't really mean that, Zendra. Coop slid his helm over his head and scanned the horizon, looking for the familiar purple flashes of portal activity, signalling new entrants to the field, from beyond the realm.

As they trotted calmly through the field, directing new refugees to their new homes, Coop tested his right arm for flexibility with his scythe. Looking to the horizon, he saw the first waves, as tears started to form in the air, with formless blobs dropping through from the electrified landscape of the other world. Looking to his left at Zendra, Coop raised his hand to his helm, lowered the visor and spurred Dawn Chaser into a gallop.

When the visor came down, the sound of the hoof beats was the only sound, as he winced at the pain shooting through his arm, but pushed it aside, brimming with the confidence that his bad arm was guarded by the presence of Zendra.

The formless blobs twisted themselves into shapes resembling cruel mockeries of well known flash and the first wave was cut down by the two brave Knights, as they rode into battle. Large sweeps from Coop's scythe and Zendra's flail took their toll on the masses, but still more poured through. Other combatants were joining the fray and the melee descended into a bloodbath, with disfigured parts flying all over the place, making the ground run slick with ichor and gore.

Coop and Zendra's charge reached a conclusion and they wheeled around, surveying the damage. A fine run had been cut through the disorganised rabble , but with their strength in numbers, they began to close in. Slowly, they encircled the pair of Knights, snarling and snapping at the horses, while sizing up their formidable opponents.

"Are we ready for some fun, Zendra?"

"Just remember that you owe me for this, Coop."

25,000 Blams

Six whole years since we got broadband and I signed up to newgrounds.com. Hoorah! - another year and I'm still here. I've added another string of Moderating to my already rather impressive bow, even if I do say so myself. Anyway, enough joculating about the size of one's e-Penis, let's look at some cold, hard statistics!

Experience:
2010 Target: 21,880
Current: 21,880

Well, as predicted, I gained exactly 3,650 Experience, so next year's target will be the same again and a total of 25,530

Exp Rank
2010 Target: Top 130
Current: 136

Just a little short of the target, but when you're hitting the sharp end of the scale, it's really difficult to rise up that ladder. An average of three ranks per month for 12 months is 36 ranks, so for this year, the target is Top 100

Level
2010 Target: Level 45
Current: Level 45

Ho hum. Perfect depositing leads to pretty damned good predictions :P Level 48 I'll be a few days shy of Level 49 as well.

Blams
2010 Target: 25,000
Current: 24,666

334 short, but with the way that the Blams have fallen off the grid of late, I'm not surprised. I had a great pace for Blams this time last year and was somewhat dismayed not to continue it now. 28,000 Blams is the target, plus a place in the top 50 for those :)

Saves
2010 Target: 50,000
Current: 48,497

Well, I fell short here as well. Possibly because I was trying to get more blams. Still, never mind. I guess I should now aim for 61,000 Saves this time around.

Total B/P
2010 Target: 75,000 B/P
Current: 73,163

A sad day when I cannot make my targets like this, but in hindsight, unless the portal picks up, this will be the way for a while. I'll continue to move towards a sixth figure, but I don't think I can get there within 12 months, sadly. 89,000 B/P will be my somewhat lofty goal, but at an average of around 43 per day, it could be doable.

B/P Rank
2010 Target: Top 25
Current: 21

Well, I couldn't quite catch the inactive bila, but I will over the next few weeks or months. Using Bahamut's latest list, I have estimated that I can reach 14th by the next anniversary

Posts
2010 Target: 17,000
Current: 17,714

Well, getting BBS Moderated helped me out no end here. Lock messages for the win! Not that I've locked that many threads, but sometimes whoring myself out in General is for the best :P 21,000 Posts will be the goal

Flash Reviews
2010 Target: 1,650
Current: 1,662

404 Reviews on the year that stuck! Closing in on a long held goal of mine to reach 1 review per day, but that's going to take a mammoth effort. 2,100 Reviews will be a suitably lofty goal :D

Flash Review Responses
2010 Target: 900
Current: 1,019

Well, I blew that target away after revising my numbers down. I'm still chasing down YoinK for 7th on that list, so I'll give it a shot of climbing. 1,250 is the aggressive goal!

Audio Reviews
2010 Target: 600
Current: 1,047

I fell off the grid early last year and fell out with the hundreds of Audio Review Requests in the RRC this year. Perhaps I'll come back, but I'll set a target of 1,100 Reviews for the total by next year, to see if I decide to make a comeback

Art Reviews
2010 Target: None
Current: 169

Well, a new category joins in. I want to review some art and I'll carry on doing it in the hope it becomes a pentalist stat at some point. I'll set a target of 400 Reviews and we'll see where we go from there.

Total Points
2010 Target: None
Current: 115,454

Right, I never set myself a target for this, but I do want to advance on this scale. 2,000 Per month makes 24,000 on the year, which is roughly where I am, so Bahamut can drive me forward towards a total statistical goal of 139,000 total points. That includes Art reviews in there, so if they aren't added by then, revise that down to 138,500

I feel like celebrating, but I'm in the office today, so won't be able to. Oh well. There's a barbecue this weekend for my best friend's wedding anniversary, so I'll celebrate then.