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This site is a fucking mess. It’s been a mess for a long time. I could name the people who are responsible for contributing to this mess, but that would not do me any favours.

If you don’t know what I’m rambling about, then you are the lucky one.

 

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Storm

I love the look he gives his imaginary wife in the mid 9 minutes after talking about tattoos on Storm. I’ve just had a Tim Minchin after noon (amongst a few other greats), but Tim has always resonated well for me. Maybe it’s his stance on politics and religious, maybe it’s just his wit, intelligence, …

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About this site

dav3.net has been many things over the years. Far too many to mention (but let’s give it a go).

For a while it contained the secrets of my weight-loss. The biggest secret, however, was not that I lost a lot of weight, but that I reached a point at which it just stopped. Or maybe I just stopped. Mostly through the lack of motivation, often through procrastination and almost always through laziness. But there has always been more to this than me not wanting to lose the weight, it’s more about the fact that I have struggled with depression for over a decade.

That’s too long. That’s far too many years.

The avenues that should be available to me just aren’t. The barriers to successfully beat or at least control the level of depression made more unsurmountable by a bureaucratic system that is in one word “fucked”, but more aptly described as an exercise in them covering their butts and avoiding the problem as much as possible. Meanwhile, I don’t get the help I need, let alone the help I would like.

But that’s also not what “slurping the dribble” has been about.

It’s been a catalogue of ideas, thoughts, ramblings, hints and tips, opinion and more; few of which are coherent, cohesive and on point.

As a result, in a new year, with a new theme, dav3.net has been recreated once again, and this is my new home. It’s still a rambling of ideas and concepts that still amount to nothing, and is summed up in the site’s tagline: slurping the dribble.

Drop by, have a surf, and leave a comment if you wish. Look through the pages and you can almost hear the cracking of the ice in the glass. Read on while I slurp the dribble of my life.