y'know.. Lindsay spaketh unto me yesterday!
he logged on.. and promptly said something to me.. about my screename.. this is the second time he's logged on this month and said something to me about my screename.. i wonder if hes been set to offline and just logs on when my screename catches his attention.. for those of you who are nosy buggers he said:
(19:30:05) Lindsay: well i hope that is not my joanne you are talking about
(19:30:12) Lindsay: which joanne is it?
(19:30:26) Me: my friend in Norfolk *pokes you*
(19:30:35) Lindsay: you also being a total slim bean
(19:30:39) Lindsay: right
(the screename in question was: haha, Joannes got a bit of a second chin 
shes still a fucking goddess tho 
*pines*
y'know.. i dont think he believed me..
on another note, i've had quite a good day today i found my plaster of paris (blatantly obvious on the corner of the table in my bedroom.. but in my defence i have barely been in there in 2 weeks) and managed to base* all my Vostroyans today AND i managed to assemble the four EPIC* Ork Gun/Battlefortresses AND assemble and base 10 EPIC Space Marine Landspeeders AND assemble 1 plastic skeleton Bloodbowl** player and semi-assemble 3 more AND base the Warmachine*** Khador and Menoth Jacks!
* = cover base in plaster so as to stop it being flat like a bowling green, then dip in a mix of sand and cat litter (the cat litter makes good stones, and the sand looks like, well, sand/rubble/earth)
** = Warhammer (40,000) figures
*** = micro-warhammer 40,000 (6mm tall men instead of 30mm tall)
**** = american football in a tolkienesque medieval world
* = fantasy game (NOT scifi, its 18th-19th century tolkienesque) about 10 foot tall steam powered robots telepathically controlled by wizards..
I spent a few months working in Games Workshop's manufacturing base in Wisbech, near Peterborough. An easy job, running the moulding machines, and I could play with the "toys" whenever I was bored. Awesome.