Fault

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My laptop's broken, which is an incredibly annoying development for several reasons, one of them being the unscheduled suspension of Thunderbozz until it's fixed.

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The Apprentice: Heavier than a Batmobile

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I watched this week's Apprentice at half-past-three on Wednesday morning, having been staring at a computer screen for about a day. As a result, my memory of precisely what happened are slightly cloudy. The Guardian 's excellent " live blog " has handily filled in the gaps. Our six would-be apprentices were given the task of selling wealthy punters the chance to spend some time with some fantastic supercars. Apparently, this is a rapidly growing new business venture, although quite why struck me as a tad confusing. Surely the whole point of those things is to drive them – fast ? Unless you own your own racetrack, there's not much opportunity to do that on the UK's roads... It soon became clear, though, that the target audience was disgustingly rich grade-A posers. Depending on your point of view, poor/useless Lucinda was unfairly/fairly treated by her team-mates this week. Having said she wouldn't feel comfortable selling on her own (because she...
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Hip to be Square

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My very first memory of attending a football match, like so many others', contains virtually no details about the goals, nor the scoreline, nor the players, nor even who we were playing. These details, these statistics, these facts have been pushed aside and replaced by the sense of awe, the feeling of wonderment, the overpowering synæsthesia of multi-coloured scarves and burger-van smells. For my very first game, my dad took me to the Watling Street ground. It was (still is) three streets away from our house, but I was spared the arduous five minute walk and treated to being carried on his shoulders instead. This is where my memory begins: As we turned onto Watling Street, I was met with an incredible sight. Hundreds of people were walking down the pavements, dozens more weaving in-between the passing buses and cars. From every side road, from every footpath, from every gap in the fence, people formed a human river, flowing steadily towards the turnstiles. I had never seen...
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Review: De Blob

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The story The planet has been taken over by the evil INKT Corporation, a corporate military dictatorship hell-bent on draining every last drop of colour from Chroma City. It's not long before Comrade Black has turned the entire town grey and enslaved the population. Enter the Colour Underground, the last pocket of resistance, and their secret weapon... de Blob. The game The game is split into ten levels, where the object is to restore colour using de Blob as a giant, comic paintbrush. Smashing open Leechbots and draining them of the colour they're carrying enables de Blob to "paint" the buildings by jumping on them. Once enough buildings have been restored (in other words, once you've collected enough points), you can advance to the next sector. Along the way, there are four categories of mini-games and challenges, some of which have to be completed to allow you to progress. These include races, painting challenges and battling the Inkies (foot soldiers). T...
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