5 am i'm engrossed in a lucid dream the like of witch I haven’t experienced in years. I’m blissfully unaware of what its about to happen as an intruder silently and stethaly creeps into my room. In the half-light he must have mistaken witch end of the bed I was sleeping or he intended to wake me, the answer to this I will never know. He rains down an attack on my foot. My dream is replaced by white agony then confusion. He’s hurt me enough to wake me but not incapacitate me. I’m confused and my eyes haven’t adjusted to the light. I raise my left arm to defend myself and he attacks with all his might. In the maelstrom my arm takes the full force of his attack, some how though if manage to knock him to the floor. My eyes just about adjust as my eyes meet his. His next attack is quick. Quicker then I could possibly expect. I feel the flesh of my cheek parting. All I can reach is the pillow I swing hard. Somehow it connects well and he is halted in his attack on my face. He tumbles to the floor again. But has time to correct his fall and lands neatly. He looks at me. I feel the blood running down my cheek. His message is delivered. He lets out a satisfied meaow, turns flicks his tail and is gone into the darkness.

Eurovision and bathing the cat.

So no wogan…. I had my doubts weather it would still have the magic. When it was announced I was confident he was the logical choice. The boy did good. He added a level of bitchyness to proceedings. The drinking game rules change every year mainly because we get so wasted they go out the window and no once can rember them. This year the wife was ill so I had to drive her home so no gin and relentless for me. This was possibly a blessing in descise as I think gin and relentless could have killed me…. Or would have done some serous tinkering with my digestive tract that the maintenance men at sothernwater would not have thanked me for. The people in charge of making up the rules said. Drink at power grabs, shaven chests, bitchy comments, campness etc….. then when it gets to the scoring drink for every point England gets. In prevose years this was a bit of relief at our nil points. This year I think they drank 171 times at out 5th place. 171 drinks for the melted paedophile walrus face of sir Andrew Lloyd Webber.

The mrs wanted to bath the cat. She said she’s always wanted too and id always wanted to reseve a rususative procedure. So angering an animal with teeth and claws seemed the logical choice and chelle said I should expect at the very least a blood transfusion.

I have to say the cat wasn’t best please at the whole affair but he didn’t try to kill us. No one got injured witch was a shock as I was hoping I would be so hurt it would get me out of my Sunday afternoon washing up chore. “Sorry love you’ll have to do it I need to go to A&E and get my hand put back on”

the say a picture speeks athousand words.... and it probubly will in my prossicutions case at my animal crulty trial

he was suspisious i took his collur off

lured him in with a duck

he sat there and took it like a man

alfie mid shake teh watter off like a dog

he's a hairy liittle beast

some more noncence cartoons ive beein commisioned to make

I think someone is trying to subvertly mock me by taking signs from the near by road works and place them faceing into my shop window at my desk.
The signs read ……SLOW

Cat shit

When we moved into “our” new gaff it was immediately taken over by the wife and alfie. With all my interior design suggestion immediately dismissed with a thin smile a chuckle… pat on the head and a suggestion like. “that’s lovely but ive already got that sorted out hows about you go and set up the telly.”

So with no power to veto the ca litter tray goes next to the bath. (Probably where I would have put it to…. But that’s not the point). So it leaves me in this situation.

Sitting in the bath thinking about the horrors of work
The cat comes in cherps his little cat greeting, and looks at me a little too long as if to say, you going to get out now? Then he breaks eye contact with a little cat sigh and goes to his tray. Where he locates a spot, refused to make eyecontct with me. The same way any men do in a communal lavatory do. And makes a puffing out his cheeks thrutching face.

Now his poopy stinks …… properly stinks … makes your eyes burn….. its probably all that Guinness and pork scratchings im feeding him on the sly.

Then he's done

But no he doesn’t leave it in the tray for me to quickly bad tag and launch out the window. He starts kicking it about the bathroom it what I suppose in his little feline brain is helping me out. the little twit kicks all of it behind him. Then turns around to see it all over the place. The thinks that will never do. And starts kicking it all in the other direction. With me flailing around in the bath trying to stop him.

To be honest ive looked better.

My curse

Im pretty sure iv mentioned this before. But I have mechanics and cars and everything. When ever I take my car to anyware to get fixed . they fix something that doesn’t need fixing and ignore what I asked them to do…. Or 10 mins later if falls off my car. Or I get ripped off. They just generally fuck up and don’t do the work and over charge me


Monday I phone up. And ask for my car to be serviced and mot’ed. And tell them that the windscreen washer pump needs replacing and that my boot lock has broken and needs replacing.

Then on leaving my car today. I say this is the things that need doing windscreen washer pump and the boot lock. Coz they are mot fails arnt they? Bloke checks it written in the book and takes my key.


Few hours later I get a phone call. Sorry sir your car has failed its mot.

The windscreen washers don’t work and we cant open the boot to get at the spare wheel. Both mot failures


BUNCH OF CUNTS

MY PHONE BEEPS WITH A NEW TXT AT AROUND MIDNIGHT

“I am home safe and sound thanx 4 a fab nightx”

I REPLY “my plesure. Not sure im the person u ment to txt. And I defnatlywasnt out with anyone tonight but glad your safe”

(id mostly been sitting in my pants playing xbox and eating a kabab)

“Thanx 4 gud thoughts but I guessi have the wrong number 4 the person I wanted!”

“So you worked who you where with then? Hope you haven’t been ‘flert diverted’ or what ever them kids call it”

yeah yeah I thought I was being so funny…. Next day carly comes home from work.

“why where you sending my boss weird txts”
“do what love?”
“you txt my boss and I had to explane to her what flirt divert was”
“ohh…. She txt me say thank for the great night…. How the hell did she have my number?”
“ohh I called her from you phone”

the fall of lycos

well they have served me well. if anyone uses my lycos accont dont bother anymore it shuts down 15/2/09

shame realy

Electrisaty

Been having some cost problems with the electric. Basicly the key meter I put money on makes it disaper faster than visit to a fair. On a side note way the fuck is the fair called the fair. Coz I don’t know anyone who managed to get one of theose tings over the block that 3 times bigger than the ring and won a can of spectial brew with a tenner stuck to it. the electrisaty meter had fleased me for 100 notes in 30 days. I almost impressed by how little electrisaty I had used and how much it had cost. Just having a bath cost me £3 in electric. And buy the blog before indicated I wasn’t using the heating as that using more money. And littrly changing it to leira and burning it would have kept me warmer and been more cost effective.

So I got the electrisaty bord to come and change the meter (hopeing this would save me money this I wont know for a while)

As customery with all stupid events in my life it involves a wizend old deaf bloke.

There a knock at the dore and there this wizend old bloke, (see told you) and it tooke my about 2 mins to realise he was deaf.

No this is going to be dificlet to wright because the man could hear me when looking at me but not when he was looking away. It was like a 2 ronnies scetch

“im here to swap you meter”
“good stuff this way, its in the cubbard”

the bloke goes in the cubbard

“oh here it is”
“yep…. Would you like a drink?”
“so im changing this for an economy 7 meter am I?”
“I think so. That’s what I need for my night storage heaters isn’t it?
he turns around and has a confused smile on his face
I repeat “economy 7 for night storage heaters”
“yeah much cheeper”
he turns away
“so …. Do you want a drink?”
“yeah………(there is a slight pause and we both begine to talk at the same time)
these key ones cost a fortune
tea? Coffee? Squash

he dosent seem to have notised that I offerd him drinks

he turns around still babbly about the meater

“do you want a drink?”
“ohh no thanks had loads of tea earlier”

at that point the cat come out and starts trying to kick all the stuff out of he tool box

“ohh sorry (I grab the cat… the blokes head is in the cobbard) you ok with cats not elergit or anything.”
“this woman made me 4 cups of tea earlier”
“ohh right…. That’s a lot…. Umm you ok with the cat?”
“some days I get loads of drinks and some days I get none”
“ohh right”
“so… you live on a bit of a building site here don’t you”
“yeah… be good when its done … its going to be a car park”
“I hear it going to be a car park” (NO YOU DON’T FUCKING HEAR DO YOU)
he pop out the cubord

“ohh hello cat…. Ive got 2 myself”

hes thae for 15 mins and everything I say he then brings up about 2 mins after I have said it.

I know this hasn’t really worked well as a blog. but it slightly more intresting than me moaning that im cold

Night. 11:30. My bathroom


I enter. Reflecting on the tasks still for me to do to the new gaff I begin to urinate.

I glance out of the window.

The window is frosted glass

The cogs in my brain turn…

I don’t rember that window being frosted glass…

And its quite a pretty pattern compared to other frosted witndows ive seen

On closer inspection its ice

ON THE FUCKING INSIDE

On joy
As the wife says…… it really is the house that jack built


(on reflection you probubly didnt need to know i was having a wee..... )

Good-bye 2008

This year has gone fast, it only seems like a its lasted a few months. Not 12. It doesn’t seem long ago I did my see 65 days of static in Southampton then Camden. And they opened with a song called good-bye 2007. Now its 2009. 2008 was strange. Lots of deaths and a lot of babies popped out or on their way to clawing there way for people wombs. My facebook friends list is full of people that at school where im never having kids then 10 years later poopin’ ‘em out. Does it seem like 10 years since the end of school?

Well on to 2009. got my new (new to me) maisonette. Ive put the wife in it and got her cat back. No small feat that. If you read my blog in the summer or talked to me I was plagued by the thing but also strangely attached to it. The little shit used to wake me up every day at 4:30amand no matter what I did I couldn’t stop it from doing this or get him from going crazy until around 7:30 where I had to get up and he’d curl up purr contentedly then fall asleep. He also has a lot of strange little cat emotions. Basically he gets revenge if you tell him off. He'll walk over and slowly tip your drink over. Or claw you the sit there with his back to you looking at you out the corner of his eye. He also is unbelievably jellouse. Anyhoo. In the time hes been away hers learnt new tricks for waking me up. Before he just used to jump on me and lick me and kinda head but me. Now hes got evil. He can now make this sound like a baby crying. Witch kind of makes you panic thinking what’s wrong. And hes sitting there looking pleased with himself. But the worst so far is thing trick. He jumps up on you or new to you head. Pokes out his middle claw. Then with all the precision of a surgeon pokes it into the middle of your top lip. Its like how the fuck does he know that your lip is one of the most sensitive places on the human body. Im just dredging that he doesn’t decide shivving you in the eye works better.

Well there’s loads of shit wrong with my new gaff witch im guaranteed to moan about later. Ie the single glazed windows and fuck all heating. This morning there was ice on the windows. Like a car gets iced up. And the fact that the electricity meter is a massive con. And robs me to the tune of £20 a week. More on this later

Happy New Year

happy christmas boys and girls i hope santa brings you all that you wanted. (if you where good) if not then get the lump of coal you deserve.

my wife is getting her cat back. lets see what happens there. i have to say ive missed the little blighter. but in a few weeks hes going to had destryoyed my my tv and pissed in the fridge or somthing.

well have a good one folks

raise a glass to absent friends, and all those who didnt have such a good 2008 lets hope 2009 will be better.

10 years ago today


i passed my driveing test.

probubly one of the best things i have ever done.

and i have seen the future it is steam powered. ohh yes my new home is now steralised with high pressure steam. most fun i have ever had cleaning.

So all go


I inspect my soon to be new pad. And im moderately horrified. Its not been cleaned in 6 months of more. Dust every ware. Well I can deal with that. Mould in the sink and microwave. Long dead things in the freezer in a nasty thord state threatening to reanimate. I was thinking along the lines of a flamethrower being the best corse of action. The CO. was rose tinted in her view an thought a few hours scrubbing and it would be our palace. So she set to work. Scrubbing the microwave…. 45 mins later and her sprit was broken too. Bless her little cotton socks. She worked very hard cleaning everything. Especially the swastika that someone had painted on the front door. There’s so much still to do, and my mood drops every time I rember being up to my elbows in mouldy washing up. I tried the oven. But that was insane. My next crack at that is tomorrow.

But the worst thing…. The worst thing was the bins

Myself and raz. Tried to sort the bins. Two 80 ltr dustbins. Upon looking in them the rubbish was not in bags and rotting. Best corse of action. Bin bag over the top. Tip bin up. All in bag tie up quick. With bin bag in place I tried to lift them bin. No I know im a pussy. But I could barely lift it. it was about that time we lifed off a top layer of refuse to discover the bin was 2 thirds full of water. In it was everything you don’t want to ever see. Used nappys. Rotting food. there was these things that looked like maggots but about an inch to an inch and a half in size . Blood red worms. Slugs, snails. The smell was indescribable. Razmus and I where almost adding vomit to the concoction in the bin with every whiff. At 1 point raz when over to some burning rubber of plastic or something to take the smell of the bins away. If you have ever smelt the piss swamp at reading …. That is a bed of roses compared to the horrors of the bin. We had to scoop out half and carry it down the stairs to a drain the pour out fluid, then carry back up the stairs. I asked raz that if he dropped in and I fell and broke my back and was covered in the “fluid” then to take my cash card go and buy an gun and shoot me in the head. And to not dordle. Luckily that didn’t happen. There was two of these bins and the second was the same.

Once it was finished I look at raz apologetically (as had not really signed up for that horror) and he turned and said
“im not a religious man….. but if hell smells anything like that then im going to church”

What are the chances?

Well im sitting here mildly annoyed still at the car troubles I has yesterday and the jobless drug addict outside who is shouting into a mobile phone about smoking heroin off of tin foil is only exsasabateing my mood.

Id had a kickass evening watching less than jake, and skipping the line and getting the front two people autographs. And then managed to make the ticket that was sign survive the gig. Without becoming sodden with beer and bodily fluids. With is the custom at a ska-punk gig. Sadly I didn’t fair aswell as the ticket and I was cloying with beer, and other more unpleasant fluids.

When I awoke. The next day realising I had neglected to bring any clean attire, and that I should go home a do something about the stench that I was emitting to innocents. I got into my car, and tried to pull away. To my horror I discovered that my breaks had pretty much fallen off and where making some terrible notice as the car tried to move. And the where eather jamming on (kinda) to being jammed off (kinda). No way I was going to make a mile, let alone the 45ish miles back to some clean pants. My friend knew of a garage close by and they managed to fit me in. sadly it took all day to fix and my poor friend was nice enough to allow me to stay in her gaff and play video games. And pretend that I didn’t smell like a pub toilet carpet still sodden with piss. Car fixed and £120 poorer I got home and did my eblusions. Where upon my old dear phones.

“what a day I have had!”
“yes go on mother ive had a shit one too”
“thismororning. The braeks pretty much fell off my car”
“ohhh very funny”
“what”
“how did you find out?”
“well I got out the drive and there was this big crunch”
“no you senile old bat… my cars breaks broke”
“what?”
“look stop winding me up”
“no my brakes broke im phoning to tell you”
“look old crone, I think its time to put you in a home. You are getting confused again”
“shut up harry, im 56 and you mother stop talking to me like that”
“sorry but my brakes fell off today and your winding me up”
“what? Are you winding me up?”
“no im not I’ve been bloody stuck in Southampton all day with the pissing QE2 honking its horn all day I just wanted to go and scupper it. and the brakes cost me £120”
“well my breaks did that too”

sparing you the rest of the comparing details. But exactly the same thing had happened to mine and my mothers car on the same morning 30 miles apart at the same time.

Either someone is trying to kill us both in some crappy film noir way. Of its just very strange massive coincidence. And that im poorer and my rudeness to my mother means father Christmas wont be visiting me.

But I hope hes got her forwarding address for her care home

Gift horse in the mouth.

The place I have lunch most days. Has a Chinese opera society or something and the fund a school in china. There annual thing was coming up and the asked me to buy some raffle tickets. Raffles I used to be quite lucky as when I was a child. I won some gigantic teddy bear from Texas (the diy store) and I always used to do well in the school and village raffles. One year I was on my 6th prize from the same raffle, and they band me from winning anymore. Not that I minded I already had more cake than I could eat. This raffle at the Chinese 1st prise was a flight to Hong Kong. And I was really hoping I didn’t win it. Coz I was just a flight. And was pretty much set up as a good prise for someone from Hong Kong so they could go back and visit etc. not that good for anyone else. Unless you had enough money to get another flight for a partner or cohort. And hotel etc… so the prise in the long run would actually bankrupt me or not get used.

My phone rings. And im informed I have won a prize. And that I should go to the restaurant the next day. And on the phone im told not to ask what my prize is ill find out tomorrow. Ohh crap….. Not the flight please not the flight. Give that to someone who can use it and that wouldn’t normal be able to afford to go back and see family. Just a bottle of wine or a free lunch or something would be good.

I arrive. And Mary (her “English name”) starts rooting bout and checks my ticket. Thank fuck I haven’t won the flight. She goes over to a box of wrapped things.. and starts looking threw. And pulls out envelopes….. Shit I may have got a flight….. na na more of a fuss would be made. Envelopes go back in. I get a by royal mail size, midem sized package. It’s squishy so basically it’s a textile. So it’s a scarf. But there is a cardboard bit to it. Maybe backing maybe something else. I don’t open it there. Because im sure I would pull some kind of ungrateful face. and being English I try not to do that so I get my lunch and say my thankyous.

Back at work. I open in. it’s a plain black long women’s scarf, with beaded tassels. And a gold plated broache. The attire is for a eastern woman in her 60’s. I couldn’t have possibly got anything less useful to me.

Well never look a gift house In the mouth….. Guess what my wife’s getting for Xmas, saves me the money on the ironing board cover I was going to get her.

You know its going to be an odd weekend when it starts an you almost run over someone wearing world war 2 pilots goggles,who is walking in the middle of the busy ring road.

Then on the phone to the paintball organiser. (Quote totaly out of context here)

“Conroy I’m thinking of giving you one….. but not the balls”
joy

Do they know something I don’t? (wow my 100th blog. still without proofreading or adiquate spelling and gramma)


Blurry eyed I check my email last Friday. 26 new emails. 26 what in the name of Greek buggery? Some bell end sending me junk mail again?. Loads up my in box…….. 20 odd emails about me needing viagra. Ohh joy. DELETED!

About 15 mins later a guy comes in and says package for you…. Is specifically named for me. Not the shop. don’t rember ordering anything ….. hummm..

I open it up. 50 leaflets on hypogonadism. Trust me buy the looks of it that’s not as cool as it sounds. For those of you not in the know. Its about low testosterone and erectile dysfunction. And lets face it erectile dysfunction is not as funny as the name sounds like it should be. It summons up connotations of having this rampaging dong that’s slightly any establishment and drags you around in the vain of quagmire from family guy. Where as in reality your just known by your bitchy disgruntled partner as “Mr. Floppy”. So feeling slightly paranoid and that my maninlyness was being challenged (and lets face it I don’t have that much manliness to challenge) I looked at the questionnaire….

1. do you have decreased libido?
2. do you have a lack of energy?
3. Do you have a decrease in strength and endurance?
4. Have you a lost height?
5. Have you noticed decreased “enjoyment of life”?
6. Are you sad and or grumpy?
7. Are your erections less strong?
8. have you noticed a resent deteration in your ability to play sports?
9. Are you falling asleep after dinner
10. has there been a resent deteration in your work performance?

Yes to questions 1 or 7. or atlest 3 of the other questions your screwed.


1. I dunno…. Everyone thinks im asexual and reproduces by budding or somthing
2. im a lazy git
3. I cant lift a tin of beans or climb stairs
4. im short
5. I hate everything
6. always
7. strong? What the fuck does that mean. I don’t go and hang weights off it or do cock push ups. Or go tie the end to my car and pull it up the drive. What the hell am I supposed to do get a Newton meter and take a weekly average and chart it over the years?
8. yeah im shit
9. yeah coz I feed myself so much I have to lie there like a anaconda digesting the tonne of pig I have just swallowed
10. fuck yes I do as little as possible and hate my customers


well I make that as a yes to pretty much all of them. Maybe is just my hypochondria or is it

now im shit scared if seeing the mrs. And Sunday come around. Hypochondria, performance anxiety tiredness and alcohol didn’t really stack the odds in my little chaps favour. But apparently he was fine. I couldn’t really tell coz I was beaten semi-unconchose and had an orange in my mouth and a plastic bag over my head.

Yeah you think about that whilst eating your cornflakes.

Peter molenux 1 Conroy bumpas 0


Peter molinux should normal keep his mouth shut whilst his games are in development. He promises the earth and then when it proves not possible he has to offer grovelling apologies. (See black & white, and fable). Im quite looking forward to fable. My one gripe with the first one was you made your character look cool there choices and actions and stuff, but it wasn’t online so you couldn’t actually show anyone. So it was the video game equilvent of playing Barbie crossed with dungeons and dragons. Even though there was some pretty good story telling and I played it threw twice. Once being nicer that the archangel Gabriel and other being the most evil mother fucker who ever lived. The problem was . Being so evil I actually killed more people and did worse things that the supreme baddie in the game. And still the inhabitants of albeion expected me to save them. The baddies was sitting there engineering to be king or something and I was strolling around killing people selling their houses and then killing the new people in their house then selling it again. Chopping up peasants and police that had the misfortune to be programmed to run up to me. But at no point did the good folk say hand on this jack of blades bloke is nice that Conroy lets let him be king and get rid of this fucker who’s killing us. Or allow me to team up with jack of blades and do some evil tag team on the land the likes of witch has never been before. So generally being good or evil had no bearing on the plot. Just weather you killed npc or gave them food. Hopefully it will feel a bit like your actions change the plot a bit.

But how molenux has got one over on me.

Basically fable 2 relise is very soon and they have relised the pub games on xbox live. And you can play in advace and win money and items for you character that you going to play. I play good first as the plot makes more sense that way (see above). Then evil when I know the entire plot and want to crush the populous. In the gambling games there is a button witch makes you place the same as you’re last bet on one of the rue let/ craps games. And In the black jack type game it places the max bet for you. One time I booted to try and win some virtual dosh for a game that isn’t even out yet, I tried to plays the max bet and pressed the wrong button and the cards started to deal. I went ohh nadgers and pressed the max bet button to try to change it. and it did! But then I noted that I only parted with the min bet. So I checked this over a few goes. Basically you only spend 150 but it acts like you have bet 1500. so evan on the smallest win you win 1000, and all for a tint stake. So I got myself out of debt and won some items. Because in the games blurb, if you are in dept, the bailiffs come after you. (Now this is the bit I’m probably not supposed to talk about) a friend of mine (you can guess who) met up with one of the games makers. He spoke to he for a while the went “hahaha your games got a bug in that my mate found so you can win all this money” the game maker says “yes we know, its in on purpose, so if you find it and use it you character is a corrupt cheat. The game records it all and the other npcs act accordingly. that’s all im telling you”. I was incredibly shocked that the sheer cunning of the games developers for this. So im going to start the game and my bloke is going to have “big vinnie and his boys” baying for blood and wanting to cut my face.

Hats of to molenux

Bad games

Now im not quite original old school when it comes to gaming. I didn’t have a Atari with pong on it. Mainly cos I wasn’t rich enough. I started in the 8 bit 80’s. When games had life’s and flashed and gittered and kids foamed at the mouth and they had to put warnings about seizures on the boxes. Now games don’t have lifes or trys so much any more. Check points and save point are the order of the day. (and shiny over the top blooming if you play anything made by bungie, ubi, or crytech). The plague of my life is attachment points on the xbox 360. Joy of joys there bringing them out on the ps3 aswell, another thing to ruin my life. No I don’t relly care how high my gamer score is. I just see that theres attachment points to be got and I see that as completing the game. If there points to get then the games not done. Some games are sensible and distribute the ponts with lvls of the game. Others are ridiculous to the point of ill health to the player. One game and I think its ghost recon has an attachment to play online against other players around the world for 8 hours with out stopping. Continues 8 hours of play. At that point gamings not fun it’s a job. For some one with asberges syndrome. (No I haven’t got that attachment. But I have played games for 8 hours without stopping before). In the 8 bit days it was all about up down left right A and B. getting you infinite lives or a level select. Infinite lves was good. Because it ment you just started the lvl again and didn’t have to do an hours of gaming again. And a lvl salect was pretty much a rudimentary way of saveing before machines had memory cards etc… with the birth of playstation and memory cards. Cheats pretty much went out of the window with me and I took a snobby view of people that used them. Whats the point of playing the game if your going to be invincible. Just walking the game. Or just skipping to the last level and that’s it then claming you have completed it. from time to time I still read an online gide to help get pash a puzzle of section of a game. (barring and J RPGS or GTA game coz theer desinded for you to have the guide on your lap as you play)

Then come along alone in the dark. (2008) where one of its big sell points on the back of the box is dvd stile scean skipping. So no one need get stuck at the game. Just scip to the next point. You litraly can skip to the very end of the game. The game is not so good. It seems relesded not finished. But still if a games biggest selling point is you don’t actulay have to play it. whats the point.
If you buy games, then use cheats to skip to the end of infinite health or use anything like action replay. I think your really wasteing you money. Would you buy a dvd, scean skip to the end and then say you had seen it. if any kind of games are hard and I need then to get parst points. Then I think you may benefit form another hobby.