Wednesday, 25 February 2009
realised recovery
ARRRHG. what the hell was i thinking! stupid caffine painkillers keeping me up 2 days straight and clouding my common sense. how the hell could i ever think mentioning G-strings in an accademic essay was a good idea. cheese strings as well. AND i referneced both metallica and V for Vendetta. well it's his own bloody fault for telling us to have fun with it. coem on bobbby boy, big 3rd year now, and they play for keeps this time arround. can't afford to be pissing marks away on a whim.
Thursday, 19 February 2009
Rob K-Ace attourney
I was privy to a sight that totally reinforced my relatively new philosophy of letting people screw up on their own. Christ knows i've had my fair share of mildly traumatic events and look at the fine, sexually unambigiuous young man they have moulded. but not for too long, a just fall to pieces when anyone stares at me.
Amusing annecdote number 451. Whilst taking fair young lady out for a meal, where we had mysterious green stuff, a table of drunk middle aged women come in and are seated next to us. After making some vaguely racists remarks about the lack of booze on the menu (persian place) one of them, an austrailen starts to make a pass at me. AND THEN MY JEALOUS GIRLFRIEND TOTALLY PUNCHED HER IN THE FACE AND THEY BOTH WRESTLED IN THE MUD AND IT WAS AWESOME. that part might not have happened though
Also, because i am a fine upstanding member of the community, one who has certainly never dodged the Tv licisning dudes, I have been picked for jury duty. i might not be actually on the jury though. from what i gather they basically get a bunch of you in a room, stick your names in a hat and the ones drawn are the ones in the stand. I am sorely tempted to dress up as pheonix wright and randomly shout objection!!!!!! but maybe contempt of court is one dream i should wait until i';m old and senile to live.
Thought of the day-whenever you offer or are offered ferroe roche you MUST say "Ah Mr Ambassador!"
Amusing annecdote number 451. Whilst taking fair young lady out for a meal, where we had mysterious green stuff, a table of drunk middle aged women come in and are seated next to us. After making some vaguely racists remarks about the lack of booze on the menu (persian place) one of them, an austrailen starts to make a pass at me. AND THEN MY JEALOUS GIRLFRIEND TOTALLY PUNCHED HER IN THE FACE AND THEY BOTH WRESTLED IN THE MUD AND IT WAS AWESOME. that part might not have happened though
Also, because i am a fine upstanding member of the community, one who has certainly never dodged the Tv licisning dudes, I have been picked for jury duty. i might not be actually on the jury though. from what i gather they basically get a bunch of you in a room, stick your names in a hat and the ones drawn are the ones in the stand. I am sorely tempted to dress up as pheonix wright and randomly shout objection!!!!!! but maybe contempt of court is one dream i should wait until i';m old and senile to live.
Thought of the day-whenever you offer or are offered ferroe roche you MUST say "Ah Mr Ambassador!"
conquering the word count
That night Stephen dreamed. Usually he only dreamed when he was drinking, small fractures convalescing into some vague shape, but this was whole and perfect. He dreamed he was in a large theatre, sitting in a big red chair. All around him there were people, with blonde hair and blue eyes. They were naked, and out of their backs poked thin hollow bones. These bones twisted down, over their shoulders and to their wrists, where they were wrapped around the arms of the chair. Thus they were tied and held there by their own bodies turning traitor. It looked as if they had been bound this way for some time, as thick layers of dust covered them from head to toe.
But oh how their eyes stared, so intent on what was going on in front. Those poor beggars were not even spared a blink, and through the grey dust chalk lines were drawn by tears clinging to cheeks and falling from chins. But what was the object that had so fully captured their gaze?
Upon the stage, bathed in sickly yellow light stood a lone male figure. Strings from above ran down into him, and with slow ponderous movements pulled him about stage. Carefully he made his way from part of the stage to the other, looked around, and with a shake of his head walked to another spot.
This dull scene was repeated for some time until a trap door opened behind him and another figure rose up. This new actor grabbed the strings of the first and pulled them viciously and enthusiastically, making the first flail and dance. There was much energy and little thought behind the movements, and the first actors face was a picture of exhausted recognition.
A 3rd actor entered from the right, this one female. Delicately she moved towards the two. The puppeteer stopped his jig, smiled and made his charge bow impossibly low, so that his nose touched the ground. Then he pulled out a knife, with which he cut the strings. The captive man fell limply to the ground and his master leaped down the trap door, headfirst like a diver into water. The other man pitifully tried to reach up to his strings and pull himself to his feet, but no part of his body seemed to fully work, and he jerked about like a poisoned insect. Standing over him, the woman held out her hand, and with great difficulty pulled him to his feet. There he rested heavily upon her, but she bore his weight, and started to slowly dance. He tried to mirror her, and though his movements were awkward at first, soon there was an ugly symmetry to them, that grew more and more beautiful and intricate to see. Unheard music swelled and they danced about the stage in perfect unity.
Suddenly there was a deep rumble. With a crashing crescendo from out of the ground there burst a great phallic worm. It raised higher and higher, rising up to the ceiling. Running parallel with the strings, its unseen head let loose a terrible cry, which was joined by a scream that abruptly ended. The limp strings turned red as ruby jewels of blood ran down them and to the ground. It dripped onto the two dancers, who wiped it from their eyes and stared up. The great beast descended, and its bloody maw crashed into the two, engulfing them in their entirety.
The curtains came down upon this scene and a sign lit up. APPLAUSE it decreed, and seeing none of his captive audience could oblige, Stephen dutifully clapped his hands.
But oh how their eyes stared, so intent on what was going on in front. Those poor beggars were not even spared a blink, and through the grey dust chalk lines were drawn by tears clinging to cheeks and falling from chins. But what was the object that had so fully captured their gaze?
Upon the stage, bathed in sickly yellow light stood a lone male figure. Strings from above ran down into him, and with slow ponderous movements pulled him about stage. Carefully he made his way from part of the stage to the other, looked around, and with a shake of his head walked to another spot.
This dull scene was repeated for some time until a trap door opened behind him and another figure rose up. This new actor grabbed the strings of the first and pulled them viciously and enthusiastically, making the first flail and dance. There was much energy and little thought behind the movements, and the first actors face was a picture of exhausted recognition.
A 3rd actor entered from the right, this one female. Delicately she moved towards the two. The puppeteer stopped his jig, smiled and made his charge bow impossibly low, so that his nose touched the ground. Then he pulled out a knife, with which he cut the strings. The captive man fell limply to the ground and his master leaped down the trap door, headfirst like a diver into water. The other man pitifully tried to reach up to his strings and pull himself to his feet, but no part of his body seemed to fully work, and he jerked about like a poisoned insect. Standing over him, the woman held out her hand, and with great difficulty pulled him to his feet. There he rested heavily upon her, but she bore his weight, and started to slowly dance. He tried to mirror her, and though his movements were awkward at first, soon there was an ugly symmetry to them, that grew more and more beautiful and intricate to see. Unheard music swelled and they danced about the stage in perfect unity.
Suddenly there was a deep rumble. With a crashing crescendo from out of the ground there burst a great phallic worm. It raised higher and higher, rising up to the ceiling. Running parallel with the strings, its unseen head let loose a terrible cry, which was joined by a scream that abruptly ended. The limp strings turned red as ruby jewels of blood ran down them and to the ground. It dripped onto the two dancers, who wiped it from their eyes and stared up. The great beast descended, and its bloody maw crashed into the two, engulfing them in their entirety.
The curtains came down upon this scene and a sign lit up. APPLAUSE it decreed, and seeing none of his captive audience could oblige, Stephen dutifully clapped his hands.
Tuesday, 17 February 2009
Projection Machinations
She looked at her phone for the time. He should be here by now. But he wasn’t, so she went back to waiting. It would have been sweet of him to show up early, and she wasn’t the type to freak out if he was a few minutes late. But it was nearing 10 minutes.
He might have a good excuse. Maybe a car splashed a puddle at him and he had to change. Maybe he was helping an elderly woman with her shopping. Maybe a bear had escaped from the zoo and had him trapped in a corner. Still if that was the case he could have at least texted about it.
She flicked through the film magazine again. She’d already read it all, cover to cover. That’s what she got for arriving early herself, so eager and excited and stupid. To pass the time she tried to memorise the release dates of all the films. January 29th, march 12th, August 3rd, which was also her birthday. Maybe he would show up and they would start going out and he would take her to see the film as a birthday treat.
Again her phone came out. No new messages. She would wait 2 minutes before sending him one. The film was due to begin then. That way she wouldn’t seem desperate or needy. She’d seem practical and no nonsense. “The films starting now, are you nearby?” She composed it, brought up his name, and when the two minutes were up sent it.
And then waited two minutes. Not a problem, just advertising. Then five minutes. Well it was ok to miss the trailers. Then another three minutes. Hopefully there was a long credit sequence at the start. How much longer would she need to wait before it looked pathetic? 20 minutes or so probably, though she knew she’d wait as long as 40.
A boy sat beside her, and her heart soared. But then she saw that it wasn’t her date. Just someone that looked as bored and lonely as she did. He caught her looking, and flashed a tight smile. Then he went back to staring at the cinema entrance and glancing at his watch. It was curious to see him doing exactly as she was.
86 seconds passed. She counted each one, so time would go slower and she might still see the film with her date. When she got to 87 an enormous sigh let up besides her. She looked and again he caught her.
“You been stood up to?” he asked glumy
She smiled, glad to see that she wasn’t the only reject in the world “I think I might have been” she replied.
“Sucks” he said
“Yeah”
A silence followed this. Then he said “what film?”
“I’m sorry?”
“What film were you going to see?”“Oh, Cold Mountain”
“Ha, same”
He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. It looked just some paper, and he fiddled with it in his hands “Did the stupid chivalrous thing and bought both tickets early” he said.
She gave him a sympathetic croon. At least she hadn’t made that mistake
“Yeah, sucks to be me to” he said.
He stared at his tickets in front of him. Then he looked at her.
“Do you…like the look of the film?” he asked.
“Well I loved the trailer, and of course Jude Law’s in it”
“Of course. And let’s not forget Natalie Portman either”
“No,” she laughed. “I guess not”
He looked at the tickets some more.
“Would you like one?” he said “I don’t want to look a saddo and ask for a refund” He tried to give her a ticket
“Oh, well let me buy it off you” she said, pulling out her purse.
“It’s no big deal”
“Then let me pay”
“Girls shouldn’t have to” he muttered
She smiled at this. At least there was one gentleman in the world. And while he wasn’t handsome in any classical sense, he wasn’t particularly unattractive. Besides, she had been looking forward to see Cold Mountain, and all a date for a film was was insurance that you didn’t have to go and sit alone. She made up her mind.
“At least let me buy the popcorn”
“Don’t feel you got to sit next to me if you don’t want to”
She got up, took his hand, and pulled him up as well. “Come on” she said “we’re missing the film so get moving”
“Ok, ok fine. Let’s go”
So they did, and it was nice, all of it except when the ticket collector shot the boy a wry smile and shook his head, but she soon forgot about that and its oddness. The film was lovely and they emerged from the cinema, with her feeling so grateful towards the boy.
It was next week. The boy went to the cinema by himself. He looked up at the listings and went up to the cash desk. Behind it was the ticket collector. He smiled at his old friend.
“What films are out that couples will want to see today?”
The ticket collector rolled his eyes “Try the Pianist”
“She did” he replied, and bought 2 tickets. He sat down and waited, looking around for when a girl would show up, looking unhappy and alone. Looking like they had been stood up for a date. Men could be bastards after all.
He might have a good excuse. Maybe a car splashed a puddle at him and he had to change. Maybe he was helping an elderly woman with her shopping. Maybe a bear had escaped from the zoo and had him trapped in a corner. Still if that was the case he could have at least texted about it.
She flicked through the film magazine again. She’d already read it all, cover to cover. That’s what she got for arriving early herself, so eager and excited and stupid. To pass the time she tried to memorise the release dates of all the films. January 29th, march 12th, August 3rd, which was also her birthday. Maybe he would show up and they would start going out and he would take her to see the film as a birthday treat.
Again her phone came out. No new messages. She would wait 2 minutes before sending him one. The film was due to begin then. That way she wouldn’t seem desperate or needy. She’d seem practical and no nonsense. “The films starting now, are you nearby?” She composed it, brought up his name, and when the two minutes were up sent it.
And then waited two minutes. Not a problem, just advertising. Then five minutes. Well it was ok to miss the trailers. Then another three minutes. Hopefully there was a long credit sequence at the start. How much longer would she need to wait before it looked pathetic? 20 minutes or so probably, though she knew she’d wait as long as 40.
A boy sat beside her, and her heart soared. But then she saw that it wasn’t her date. Just someone that looked as bored and lonely as she did. He caught her looking, and flashed a tight smile. Then he went back to staring at the cinema entrance and glancing at his watch. It was curious to see him doing exactly as she was.
86 seconds passed. She counted each one, so time would go slower and she might still see the film with her date. When she got to 87 an enormous sigh let up besides her. She looked and again he caught her.
“You been stood up to?” he asked glumy
She smiled, glad to see that she wasn’t the only reject in the world “I think I might have been” she replied.
“Sucks” he said
“Yeah”
A silence followed this. Then he said “what film?”
“I’m sorry?”
“What film were you going to see?”“Oh, Cold Mountain”
“Ha, same”
He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. It looked just some paper, and he fiddled with it in his hands “Did the stupid chivalrous thing and bought both tickets early” he said.
She gave him a sympathetic croon. At least she hadn’t made that mistake
“Yeah, sucks to be me to” he said.
He stared at his tickets in front of him. Then he looked at her.
“Do you…like the look of the film?” he asked.
“Well I loved the trailer, and of course Jude Law’s in it”
“Of course. And let’s not forget Natalie Portman either”
“No,” she laughed. “I guess not”
He looked at the tickets some more.
“Would you like one?” he said “I don’t want to look a saddo and ask for a refund” He tried to give her a ticket
“Oh, well let me buy it off you” she said, pulling out her purse.
“It’s no big deal”
“Then let me pay”
“Girls shouldn’t have to” he muttered
She smiled at this. At least there was one gentleman in the world. And while he wasn’t handsome in any classical sense, he wasn’t particularly unattractive. Besides, she had been looking forward to see Cold Mountain, and all a date for a film was was insurance that you didn’t have to go and sit alone. She made up her mind.
“At least let me buy the popcorn”
“Don’t feel you got to sit next to me if you don’t want to”
She got up, took his hand, and pulled him up as well. “Come on” she said “we’re missing the film so get moving”
“Ok, ok fine. Let’s go”
So they did, and it was nice, all of it except when the ticket collector shot the boy a wry smile and shook his head, but she soon forgot about that and its oddness. The film was lovely and they emerged from the cinema, with her feeling so grateful towards the boy.
It was next week. The boy went to the cinema by himself. He looked up at the listings and went up to the cash desk. Behind it was the ticket collector. He smiled at his old friend.
“What films are out that couples will want to see today?”
The ticket collector rolled his eyes “Try the Pianist”
“She did” he replied, and bought 2 tickets. He sat down and waited, looking around for when a girl would show up, looking unhappy and alone. Looking like they had been stood up for a date. Men could be bastards after all.
Thursday, 12 February 2009
You're so crazy...
...i wanna have your babies! But too many hot baths have no doubt caused my sperm to fuse together so any child we make will have two heads! And i don't have defusion in my deck any more!
Having said that, I did play yugioh with mi amigoes for the first time in an age, and things didn't go too shabby, what with me totally metagaming my way to victory. How foolish I used to be in my deck construction-where bigger is certainly not better. The game has gotten a bit silly though, what with the banned list stretching off to infinity chaos dragon. MY idea is far more sensible, assign each card a cost, with crap ones being low cost and great ones being high, then set a points limit for a duel, either agreed on by players or standarized for tournaments. that way loads more stragey goes into deck building, and it aint all about whoever spends the most money on their hobby wins.
A few random things have happened. on tuesday i got drunk and wandered into what i thought was a cool accosutic gig. the vibe was good and folk were friendly, but something seemed a little off. it was only when the guy announced that his next song was called psalm 40, and then some spokesdude gave a talk that i realised i was at a christian rally-and quite smashed to boot. I still maintain that a few of the ladies were giving me fuck me eyes though-but then I always think that. It's a very sexy form of paranoia
I also had the idea of getting up on stage and busting out some "smelly cat" Replacing the words would totally fool any christian
"Jesus christ Jeeesus christ
what are they feeding you...to the lions
Jesus christ Jeeessuss christ
IT'S NOT YOUR FAULTTTTTTT"
of course I am going to hell for that, but the way things are, the rest of the world will soon follow
Other slight crazyness would be me singing away to my MP3 when going home, busting into the kitchen with a lyrical swell, and finding my flatmates being interviewed by police. The song choice was quite unfortunate as well. "I'm a miiiidnight tooooker.......oh whoops" Was quite tempted to make a few jokes about hiding my plants, but didn't reckon they would've gone down so well.
Thought of the day-It's burger thursday and i can't wait to get some meat between buns
Having said that, I did play yugioh with mi amigoes for the first time in an age, and things didn't go too shabby, what with me totally metagaming my way to victory. How foolish I used to be in my deck construction-where bigger is certainly not better. The game has gotten a bit silly though, what with the banned list stretching off to infinity chaos dragon. MY idea is far more sensible, assign each card a cost, with crap ones being low cost and great ones being high, then set a points limit for a duel, either agreed on by players or standarized for tournaments. that way loads more stragey goes into deck building, and it aint all about whoever spends the most money on their hobby wins.
A few random things have happened. on tuesday i got drunk and wandered into what i thought was a cool accosutic gig. the vibe was good and folk were friendly, but something seemed a little off. it was only when the guy announced that his next song was called psalm 40, and then some spokesdude gave a talk that i realised i was at a christian rally-and quite smashed to boot. I still maintain that a few of the ladies were giving me fuck me eyes though-but then I always think that. It's a very sexy form of paranoia
I also had the idea of getting up on stage and busting out some "smelly cat" Replacing the words would totally fool any christian
"Jesus christ Jeeesus christ
what are they feeding you...to the lions
Jesus christ Jeeessuss christ
IT'S NOT YOUR FAULTTTTTTT"
of course I am going to hell for that, but the way things are, the rest of the world will soon follow
Other slight crazyness would be me singing away to my MP3 when going home, busting into the kitchen with a lyrical swell, and finding my flatmates being interviewed by police. The song choice was quite unfortunate as well. "I'm a miiiidnight tooooker.......oh whoops" Was quite tempted to make a few jokes about hiding my plants, but didn't reckon they would've gone down so well.
Thought of the day-It's burger thursday and i can't wait to get some meat between buns
Tuesday, 10 February 2009
Night and Day
The night is your face
The sky is your skin
The moon, a mole
And the stars
are your freckles
The day is your face
The sun is a scab
That black cloud a bruise
And those scars,
made by planes
The sky is your skin
The moon, a mole
And the stars
are your freckles
The day is your face
The sun is a scab
That black cloud a bruise
And those scars,
made by planes
Bullshitting for the win
I had the dubious honour today of having apparently produced the best piece of tabloid journalism from a ramshackled broadsheet story we were all given. Huzah for bastardisation.
Lock up your daughters (and sons)
Our prisons are overflowing…with children. And while we can all nod sagely and blame the parents, they aren’t the ones that have to do hard time.
For every 100, 000 kids in Britain, 23 will end up in the slammer. In France, it’s six. Spain a mere 2. Custody has doubled in the past decade, despite youth crime having fallen.
Many experts agree that locking up young offenders is both expensive and ineffective. The YJB (Youth Justice Board) spends almost £280 million of the taxpayer’s money each year on detention. Ironic, considering that surveys show nearly 80% of children released re-offend within that year.
As former Home Secretary David Waddington put it, “Prison is an expensive way of making bad people worst”
Youth crime came into the lime light in the 1990’s “Condemn a little more and understand a little less” urged then Prime Minister John Major. Opposing parties battled with each other to show the public which of them was tougher on youth crime. And as always when adults fight, it’s the children that lose out.
Lock up your daughters (and sons)
Our prisons are overflowing…with children. And while we can all nod sagely and blame the parents, they aren’t the ones that have to do hard time.
For every 100, 000 kids in Britain, 23 will end up in the slammer. In France, it’s six. Spain a mere 2. Custody has doubled in the past decade, despite youth crime having fallen.
Many experts agree that locking up young offenders is both expensive and ineffective. The YJB (Youth Justice Board) spends almost £280 million of the taxpayer’s money each year on detention. Ironic, considering that surveys show nearly 80% of children released re-offend within that year.
As former Home Secretary David Waddington put it, “Prison is an expensive way of making bad people worst”
Youth crime came into the lime light in the 1990’s “Condemn a little more and understand a little less” urged then Prime Minister John Major. Opposing parties battled with each other to show the public which of them was tougher on youth crime. And as always when adults fight, it’s the children that lose out.
Wednesday, 4 February 2009
Romance, Nazi's and eye-patches
And I can't seem to find my own eye patch, which is a damn shame. For the red capilaries have marched across the whites of my eyes and have my blue grey iris in a stalingrad stranglehold, laying seige so they might penetrate the murkish moat waters and breach the black Keep of my pupil. Maybe
So yeah, saw a nazi film with my ladyfriend (Tip-all chicks dig nazi films) and it proved reasonably good. though the problem with a film about assassinating hitler is that you kind of know how it's going to end. Still, unbeknown to the world they managed to save his brain for putting into a robot and his left testicle (hence the song) so they might harvest his sperm, so with any luck some boys from brazil lead by tom cruise will get another wack at assassinating his ass. Along with walt Disney.
Let us not forget however that without hitler IBM would have been outta business, israle might not be around and of course we wouldn't have fanta!
In other news, after geting a shockingly bad mark for an essay, i've been pulling the finger out and doing a fair bit of studying, hitting the books like their all about the S&M. Apparently our ability to contextualise history has been compromised by the speed of our innovation, and that there is no future in post structural narratives due to their obession with pastiche and nostalgia.
Also, for the first time in like a billion years (5000 for young earthers) I've got the weekend off work, and already have had many exciting enticing and enterprising offers as how to spend it. almost all options will result in hangover.
Thought of the day-kafka kicks ass
So yeah, saw a nazi film with my ladyfriend (Tip-all chicks dig nazi films) and it proved reasonably good. though the problem with a film about assassinating hitler is that you kind of know how it's going to end. Still, unbeknown to the world they managed to save his brain for putting into a robot and his left testicle (hence the song) so they might harvest his sperm, so with any luck some boys from brazil lead by tom cruise will get another wack at assassinating his ass. Along with walt Disney.
Let us not forget however that without hitler IBM would have been outta business, israle might not be around and of course we wouldn't have fanta!
In other news, after geting a shockingly bad mark for an essay, i've been pulling the finger out and doing a fair bit of studying, hitting the books like their all about the S&M. Apparently our ability to contextualise history has been compromised by the speed of our innovation, and that there is no future in post structural narratives due to their obession with pastiche and nostalgia.
Also, for the first time in like a billion years (5000 for young earthers) I've got the weekend off work, and already have had many exciting enticing and enterprising offers as how to spend it. almost all options will result in hangover.
Thought of the day-kafka kicks ass
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