This is the sound of an electric guitar.

Oh Carter: Ultimate Sex Machine, how the hell did I hear of you again?

Oh yeah.

When in primary school (this would be around 1993ish), I took walks around the playground during breaks, as the monkey-bars were always thronged with the grossest little oiks on the planet and the sporty year 6's wouldn't let me play football with them. On one of these many travels across the netball court, passed the Activity Wall, onto and around the wood-chip path, through the bantam aviary, and back onto the 6 year old equivilent of Skid Row, where weird kids would play Pogs for Keeps (something which I was never hardcore enough to do), I met a boy a little older than me by the name of Harrison Carter.
From the age of 6, with no real concept of alcohol, I knew at a bone-deep level that this person would be a booze-fuelled party animal who had not a fuck to give about any damn thing. And Lo, It Was Done.

I used to go to his giant victorian house after school and on Saturdays to read his 2000 AD comics and play X-COM: Terror from the Deep and Command & Conquer on his state-of-the-art Pentium 166 MMX; you knew it was futuristic because it had a little LCD display that displayed how fast it was (it was pretty fast). Whilst we were there his older brother, who by now, following the standard rate of progression of a punk, has a railroad spike embedded in his forehead and a chainsaw for a right hand, came into the same room and put on 101 Damnations on the huge, fantastic hi-fi (upon which a candle in the shape of a cobra sat), and as the years rolled on through Heroes of Might and Magic, the first Quake (!) and on and on and on, the same album was thrummed into my brain, and hasn't left.
In fact, having drunkenly slept there recently, that same room where we discussed the fundamental rules of creation (I think) in slurred whispers until God Knows o'clock, that cobra-candle is still there, and for some reason is as nostalgic as all hell. As a quick aside, I also had my bike stolen out of his garden.

God speed Harrison Carter, Drunken Emperor. The man is at least partially responsible for the drunken lout that types this now.

P.S: I'm a little spry on Strongbow just now. Hello