Profile for theoriginalsteve:
theoriginalsteve™
Well, I'm a Forensic Gardener, and particle fishics student (majoring in superconducting cod). I am quite fond of cheesecake.
My special superhero power is I can tell you the name of any kid's program (from the late 70s to the early 90s) just from hearing the first second of the theme tune.
and a clip of the first game in action:
My first attempt at using oils! Click for bigger (489 kb)
--An interesting link:--
Click here for my replica Time Bandits map, it took fecking ages
Just some concepts for sprites:
On the subject of Aliens, here is an Alien I dun drawed on mah phone:
(created with this: brushesapp.com/ and painting with a finger is not as easy as I first thought)
in fact, here is another pic I drew on the ol' phone:
The Fiend made me one of his EXCELLENT Graffi usernames!:
Random stuff for b3ta:
The rather excellent fannycradock made the original (HERE), and I coloured it:
click for bigger (426k)
When n00bs attack:
To celebrate my 5000th post, here's a picture of my bear ass:
I am the world's foremost expert in Forensic Gardening:
--Click here for the first ever post regarding Forensic Gardening--
Thanks to GodSaveTheQueen for original image and Rappola for converting this to a badge. ClanSouls gnopsgnight badge is also here on display, all after I inadvertently started a Gnopfest :D
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Best answers to questions:
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- a member for 17 years, 3 months and 4 days
- has posted 20004 messages on the main board
- (of which 1 have appeared on the front page)
- has posted 181 messages on the talk board
- has posted 296 messages on the links board
- (including 2 links)
- has posted 65 stories and 94 replies on question of the week
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theoriginalsteve™
Well, I'm a Forensic Gardener, and particle fishics student (majoring in superconducting cod). I am quite fond of cheesecake.
My special superhero power is I can tell you the name of any kid's program (from the late 70s to the early 90s) just from hearing the first second of the theme tune.
and a clip of the first game in action:
My first attempt at using oils! Click for bigger (489 kb)
--An interesting link:--
Click here for my replica Time Bandits map, it took fecking ages
Just some concepts for sprites:
On the subject of Aliens, here is an Alien I dun drawed on mah phone:
(created with this: brushesapp.com/ and painting with a finger is not as easy as I first thought)
in fact, here is another pic I drew on the ol' phone:
The Fiend made me one of his EXCELLENT Graffi usernames!:
Random stuff for b3ta:
The rather excellent fannycradock made the original (HERE), and I coloured it:
click for bigger (426k)
When n00bs attack:
To celebrate my 5000th post, here's a picture of my bear ass:
I am the world's foremost expert in Forensic Gardening:
--Click here for the first ever post regarding Forensic Gardening--
Thanks to GodSaveTheQueen for original image and Rappola for converting this to a badge. ClanSouls gnopsgnight badge is also here on display, all after I inadvertently started a Gnopfest :D
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Recent front page messages:
"How are we splitting this? Err, Judas, what do you mean youve only got cash?"
Click for bigger (243 kb)
...well I've not posted in a looong time, but here's my 20000th post! Yay!
(Fri 9th Jun 2023, 13:53, More)
Click for bigger (243 kb)...well I've not posted in a looong time, but here's my 20000th post! Yay!
(Fri 9th Jun 2023, 13:53, More)
Best answers to questions:
» Trolls
The word "Troll" does not appear to be in the bible.
A bit or Trolling-in-real-life... I was out in the local town centre with a couple of friends, standing in an area or the centre called Charter Place.
Whilst waiting for one of the guys who had popped into one of the shops, we were idly listening to someone well-known to the town centre - the gentleman who, come rain or shine would stand around and preach the supposed "Word of God". Without fail he would be there to tell us all how we would go to hell unless we let Jesus into our lives.
"I see evil wherever I go, and so do you all but you do not notice! By following the Word, you will see, and you can stop evil coming into your lives and save yourselves! Does anyone here know the source of this evil? Do any of you know where this evil is coming from?"
"Luton?" called out my mate.
The man turned bright red and shouted back "NO, NOT LUTON!!!" and went on a vigorous rant on how the young people of society do not take God seriously.
(Thu 19th May 2011, 12:47, More)
The word "Troll" does not appear to be in the bible.
A bit or Trolling-in-real-life... I was out in the local town centre with a couple of friends, standing in an area or the centre called Charter Place.
Whilst waiting for one of the guys who had popped into one of the shops, we were idly listening to someone well-known to the town centre - the gentleman who, come rain or shine would stand around and preach the supposed "Word of God". Without fail he would be there to tell us all how we would go to hell unless we let Jesus into our lives.
"I see evil wherever I go, and so do you all but you do not notice! By following the Word, you will see, and you can stop evil coming into your lives and save yourselves! Does anyone here know the source of this evil? Do any of you know where this evil is coming from?"
"Luton?" called out my mate.
The man turned bright red and shouted back "NO, NOT LUTON!!!" and went on a vigorous rant on how the young people of society do not take God seriously.
(Thu 19th May 2011, 12:47, More)
» Accidental innuendo
I mentioned this on /board the other day, strangely enough, so here goes again:
Many moons ago, my parents decided to get an extension built. Part of the process involved breaking up the existing patio. After all the work was completed, we were left with a nice pile of rubble.
My parents, being the ever efficient sorts, chose to advertse in the local paper that we had this rubble, and anyone wishing to use it as the basis of a foundation for a patio or something could take it away for free.
Fair enough, only it was left to my Mum to place that ad.
A few days later, she was explaing she was getting some VERY strange people calling up, asking for "what type was it, and what did it involve?". So, to follow this up, I asked exactly what she had put in the paper. It went something like this:
"I have a large amount of hardcore available for free if anyone has the ability to collect"
I laughed so much, and she was suitably embarressed after I explained what she had done.
(Thu 12th Jun 2008, 16:11, More)
I mentioned this on /board the other day, strangely enough, so here goes again:
Many moons ago, my parents decided to get an extension built. Part of the process involved breaking up the existing patio. After all the work was completed, we were left with a nice pile of rubble.
My parents, being the ever efficient sorts, chose to advertse in the local paper that we had this rubble, and anyone wishing to use it as the basis of a foundation for a patio or something could take it away for free.
Fair enough, only it was left to my Mum to place that ad.
A few days later, she was explaing she was getting some VERY strange people calling up, asking for "what type was it, and what did it involve?". So, to follow this up, I asked exactly what she had put in the paper. It went something like this:
"I have a large amount of hardcore available for free if anyone has the ability to collect"
I laughed so much, and she was suitably embarressed after I explained what she had done.
(Thu 12th Jun 2008, 16:11, More)
» Irrational Hatred
People making tea "the wrong way around"
It really irks me when I see someone making tea by pouring milk into the cup first, dropping in the tea bag, then adding the water - even more so when they have boiled the water, let it stand for a minute, then poured it in.
The tea bag goes in the (preferably warmed up) cup, add boiling water, allow to brew, then add the milk...
It shouldn't bug me, but it does.
(Thu 31st Mar 2011, 16:57, More)
People making tea "the wrong way around"
It really irks me when I see someone making tea by pouring milk into the cup first, dropping in the tea bag, then adding the water - even more so when they have boiled the water, let it stand for a minute, then poured it in.
The tea bag goes in the (preferably warmed up) cup, add boiling water, allow to brew, then add the milk...
It shouldn't bug me, but it does.
(Thu 31st Mar 2011, 16:57, More)
» Creepy!
What Happens After
I can usually remember my dreams, normally nonsensical garbage, but very occasionally I have quite vivid and complicated dreams - the sort with plots, sub-plots and colourful characters, all of which making some kind of logical sense. About five or so years ago, I had a dream a few levels of vividness above the aforementioned complex dreams, that unnerved me to my core, and to this day, it still creeps me out just a little.
Normally, I am at least in some way aware that I am dreaming, quite how, I can't really explain - I just am. In this instance, I had no idea until I awoke, it was that clear. To this day I can remember all the detail, the feelings - everything, just like the memory of watching a brilliant movie, or having read an excellent book. I was on a cruise ship, standing on the deck at the bow of the ship. Below my feet were light-brown wooden slats that made up the deck, around the edge were metal railings painted white about 6/7 foot high (three rows with vertical bars every metre or so). Behind me would be the cabin area, but I never turned around to look at it - I was just aware it was there. The ocean was unnaturally calm - just very fine ripples. No land was visible, and it was getting late in the day. The sky was a beautiful shade of pastel blue, but was still quite bright. The sun was reflected across the silent water.
The reason I was there was to wait for the end of the world. There were some hours yet to go, but it was going to happen. I wasn't feeling upset, regretful or anything else - it was just like that moment you hear someone else’s bad news "oh, I'm so sorry to hear about that!" but inside you really don't connect with it. It's just an abstract concept.
Time passed - there was now an hour to go. A few people were now up on deck, milling about. I did not recognise anyone, and in all honesty, didn't care. The sun was lower in the sky - the day was dwindling and fine wispy clouds were picked out in a pastel pink, all reflected in the still calm sea. It iswas peaceful and wondrous, yet I was feeling somewhat sad - I was going to die.
More time passed; there was now 30 minutes to go. More people had appeared on deck, a few were up on the railings looking out, some were in groups, others, like me, stood on their own. Everyone was silent, maybe contemplating their demise. By now it has really begun to hit home, my life would be over and I started to think of my family - none of whom were there with me. Over the next 20 minutes, I thought not only of my family, but about the things I should have done, the things I should have said, the things I should not have said. Opportunities I had missed and choices I had made. For the first time in a long time, I cried.
Soon, it came to the end. 10 minutes to go, 5 minutes, 30 seconds.
10, 9, 8,
Still silence.
7, 6, 5,
There was no sun, yet the sky was still the same pastel blue,
4, 3, 2,
Resigned to my fate, I stood and watched.
1.
In the distance a flash of unimaginably brilliant white light - the only thing that it could be was some form of nuclear explosion - that is the only explanation I can think of.
Darkness. There was no pain, no heat, no force knocking me down, just an all-consuming darkness. I had no body, I was dead.
No pearly gates, no St Peter at the door like a halo-ed bouncer asking if I'd lead a good life, Nothing.
Now I am not a particularly religious man, in fact not at all. I was brought up as a Catholic, but since my mid-teens seriously doubted that heaven, hell or even God, exists. Still, I am gutted. Throughout my life I've been lied to . There is nothing - when you are dead, that is it. Goodnight, folks, that's all you get. Show's over.
Hmmm. Something clicked. A thought - a nagging little nugget of concern. I struggled to bring it out of the sub-conscious and into my conscious thoughts.
"If I'm dead, and there is nothing, how the hell am I discussing this absurd situation with myself?"
It was like I had dug around in my pocket, produced a key, stuck it in a mysterious lock and found that it fits. Something was about to open. That one thought, that one concept was monumentally important. Suddenly I had the realisation that everyone has to come to that conclusion. That simple notion "I'm still here" is like a pass, a ticket allowing you to move on. I knew that whatever happens "after" was about to be revealed - it was like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. I was about to understand everything... An immense feeling of wellbeing descended on me - now I was about to learn whatever it was all about....
And that was when my alarm went off. I sat bolt-upright in my bed and yelled out most of the expletives I knew, plus a few I didn't realise I did. I was drenched in sweat, out of breath and was shaking like a leaf. So what the hell was supposed to happen? What was I going to discover?
For the following days I was a bit out of sorts - quite shaken by that dream. I was questioning life, my feelings on death, and what happens after.
A few weeks later, however, I was back to normal, having dismissed it - it was just a dream, that was all. Occasionally I remember it, like now for this QOTW, and how real it seemed, like no other dream I've had before or since, and that still creeps me out just a bit. I would love to know quite how my brain would have dealt with the "what happens after" part of the dream, but I guess one day I'll find out for real, just as we all will.
(Fri 8th Apr 2011, 14:36, More)
What Happens After
I can usually remember my dreams, normally nonsensical garbage, but very occasionally I have quite vivid and complicated dreams - the sort with plots, sub-plots and colourful characters, all of which making some kind of logical sense. About five or so years ago, I had a dream a few levels of vividness above the aforementioned complex dreams, that unnerved me to my core, and to this day, it still creeps me out just a little.
Normally, I am at least in some way aware that I am dreaming, quite how, I can't really explain - I just am. In this instance, I had no idea until I awoke, it was that clear. To this day I can remember all the detail, the feelings - everything, just like the memory of watching a brilliant movie, or having read an excellent book. I was on a cruise ship, standing on the deck at the bow of the ship. Below my feet were light-brown wooden slats that made up the deck, around the edge were metal railings painted white about 6/7 foot high (three rows with vertical bars every metre or so). Behind me would be the cabin area, but I never turned around to look at it - I was just aware it was there. The ocean was unnaturally calm - just very fine ripples. No land was visible, and it was getting late in the day. The sky was a beautiful shade of pastel blue, but was still quite bright. The sun was reflected across the silent water.
The reason I was there was to wait for the end of the world. There were some hours yet to go, but it was going to happen. I wasn't feeling upset, regretful or anything else - it was just like that moment you hear someone else’s bad news "oh, I'm so sorry to hear about that!" but inside you really don't connect with it. It's just an abstract concept.
Time passed - there was now an hour to go. A few people were now up on deck, milling about. I did not recognise anyone, and in all honesty, didn't care. The sun was lower in the sky - the day was dwindling and fine wispy clouds were picked out in a pastel pink, all reflected in the still calm sea. It iswas peaceful and wondrous, yet I was feeling somewhat sad - I was going to die.
More time passed; there was now 30 minutes to go. More people had appeared on deck, a few were up on the railings looking out, some were in groups, others, like me, stood on their own. Everyone was silent, maybe contemplating their demise. By now it has really begun to hit home, my life would be over and I started to think of my family - none of whom were there with me. Over the next 20 minutes, I thought not only of my family, but about the things I should have done, the things I should have said, the things I should not have said. Opportunities I had missed and choices I had made. For the first time in a long time, I cried.
Soon, it came to the end. 10 minutes to go, 5 minutes, 30 seconds.
10, 9, 8,
Still silence.
7, 6, 5,
There was no sun, yet the sky was still the same pastel blue,
4, 3, 2,
Resigned to my fate, I stood and watched.
1.
In the distance a flash of unimaginably brilliant white light - the only thing that it could be was some form of nuclear explosion - that is the only explanation I can think of.
Darkness. There was no pain, no heat, no force knocking me down, just an all-consuming darkness. I had no body, I was dead.
No pearly gates, no St Peter at the door like a halo-ed bouncer asking if I'd lead a good life, Nothing.
Now I am not a particularly religious man, in fact not at all. I was brought up as a Catholic, but since my mid-teens seriously doubted that heaven, hell or even God, exists. Still, I am gutted. Throughout my life I've been lied to . There is nothing - when you are dead, that is it. Goodnight, folks, that's all you get. Show's over.
Hmmm. Something clicked. A thought - a nagging little nugget of concern. I struggled to bring it out of the sub-conscious and into my conscious thoughts.
"If I'm dead, and there is nothing, how the hell am I discussing this absurd situation with myself?"
It was like I had dug around in my pocket, produced a key, stuck it in a mysterious lock and found that it fits. Something was about to open. That one thought, that one concept was monumentally important. Suddenly I had the realisation that everyone has to come to that conclusion. That simple notion "I'm still here" is like a pass, a ticket allowing you to move on. I knew that whatever happens "after" was about to be revealed - it was like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. I was about to understand everything... An immense feeling of wellbeing descended on me - now I was about to learn whatever it was all about....
And that was when my alarm went off. I sat bolt-upright in my bed and yelled out most of the expletives I knew, plus a few I didn't realise I did. I was drenched in sweat, out of breath and was shaking like a leaf. So what the hell was supposed to happen? What was I going to discover?
For the following days I was a bit out of sorts - quite shaken by that dream. I was questioning life, my feelings on death, and what happens after.
A few weeks later, however, I was back to normal, having dismissed it - it was just a dream, that was all. Occasionally I remember it, like now for this QOTW, and how real it seemed, like no other dream I've had before or since, and that still creeps me out just a bit. I would love to know quite how my brain would have dealt with the "what happens after" part of the dream, but I guess one day I'll find out for real, just as we all will.
(Fri 8th Apr 2011, 14:36, More)
» Why I was late
Well, not some fabricated excuse, more the real deal...
Back in the mists of time (about '98ish), I walked into my art history 'A'level class, where my tutor set upon me in front of the whole class, about how I had missed the previous week's lesson.
She went on for about 10 or so minutes about commitment, how there is no excuse, that I should make up the time as the rest of the class had bothered to turn up etc. etc. (bear in mind that I wasn't a skiver, and had a pretty much flawless attendance record until that point).
So she finished her rant, and looking extremely proud at herself, said in a clear and loud, commanding voice:
"So what IS your excuse?"
I simply tilted my head very slightly, looked her in the eye, and maintaining my calm composure, replied in just as clear a tone as she did:
"I was attending my Grandfather's funeral."
Normally people turn red when embarrassed. So far, myself, scientists and artists alike have not been able to describe in words exactly what colour she turned, but believe me, whatever amazing shade of red it was, that was the happiest I had been for those last few weeks!
Length? Perhaps too long, a funny shade of red, and quite embarrassing.
(Thu 28th Jun 2007, 17:23, More)
Well, not some fabricated excuse, more the real deal...
Back in the mists of time (about '98ish), I walked into my art history 'A'level class, where my tutor set upon me in front of the whole class, about how I had missed the previous week's lesson.
She went on for about 10 or so minutes about commitment, how there is no excuse, that I should make up the time as the rest of the class had bothered to turn up etc. etc. (bear in mind that I wasn't a skiver, and had a pretty much flawless attendance record until that point).
So she finished her rant, and looking extremely proud at herself, said in a clear and loud, commanding voice:
"So what IS your excuse?"
I simply tilted my head very slightly, looked her in the eye, and maintaining my calm composure, replied in just as clear a tone as she did:
"I was attending my Grandfather's funeral."
Normally people turn red when embarrassed. So far, myself, scientists and artists alike have not been able to describe in words exactly what colour she turned, but believe me, whatever amazing shade of red it was, that was the happiest I had been for those last few weeks!
Length? Perhaps too long, a funny shade of red, and quite embarrassing.
(Thu 28th Jun 2007, 17:23, More)