Boldly Going Nowhere

I wonder...

2011-11-16T04:39:00.000-08:00

If anyone will read this. If they do then i've started a new project, called realistic ladies confess. Imagine if the bullshit confessions you found in nuts magazine were not written by lonely old men and instead had some actual correlation with the real world. Then burn it, piss on it and what you got left is what I wrote

the king of lames

2011-04-07T16:31:00.000-07:00

the mouse is keeping me up again so i have set the trap under my bed. i don't think it'll fall for it but i do think the lingering smell of a slow dark death might keep it away. see it's one of those humane ones that don't kill. problem is it was being kept in my folks garage for a few years and no one ever noticed the last mouse caught in it until a partially decomposed skeleton was poured out.

maybe it ate its own feet for feed. maybe not

i can see it right now in fact, its not very good at hiding.

today was spent on the serious business of childrens card games and i'm both slightly proud and ashamed to say i came up top trumps. also i got marginally drunk on scummy whisky and made midnight pancakes for one, on account of the fact my lovely lady is back on her little rock. little tip to all the men here-chicks don't dig it when you call them quaint peasant farm girls.

the moon looks like a toenail and the streetlights make it seem lacking in calcium. last time i looked it was full and i was drunk. i think we tend to look up more when we're on the hooch. but only when outside. inside we look down and pretend that we aren't wanting to be looked at ourselves.

its staring at me again, tail raised like a scorpion. better not sting

TVs work the same as windows

2011-02-24T14:00:00.000-08:00

Here's a trick

Build a wall, up and up
and all the while pretend
it was someone else
laying the bricks.

Then peer through the cracks
and notice that no one
absolutly no one
is trying to look in.

Be mightily offended
at such vicious indifference.
It's crueler than showing
an elephant a picture of a whale.

But probably easier to forget.

Put a roof on the wall
cut a door, windows (TV's work the same)
Get a job, marry maybe (Cats almost work the same)
fill your box with shit.

Forget
who built these walls.
Just cover them with shit
until they're gone and forgotten.

the day of a thousand posts

2011-02-23T10:26:00.000-08:00

Well guess who had an extremely productive day on facebook, and conversely an extremely unproductive day in the real world. Some might even be so bold as to suggest a tentative link between the two.

That first question was of course rhetorical, my own personal favourite linguistic and literary tool employed by those old greek dudes. screw you hyperbole emos, you think everything is the end of the world.

My mother asked me what MILF stood for today. "Man I love facebook!" i said, before telling her. There do seem to be a lot of them kicking about lately, kicking toddlers in arm, causing their slightly bigger than average boobs to jiggle in the cold september sun.

On holiday currently, making the burden of free time even heavier on these broad manly shoulders. Atlas had it easy. Giant TV's and impromptu drinking are my current distractions. Trying to keep up with this as well, but liquor comes out easier

Isn't it awkward when not smart people try to talk smart to you. Is this a confession or condemntaion?

skit

2011-01-31T16:41:00.000-08:00

"How do you do it?" he asked his flatmate, who had once again kept him up with the curious noises of lovemaking.

"Do what?"

"Sex up all those ladies. that's like three in seven months!" Such statistics were considered impressive in their small circle of the world.

"Well without giving away too much, the penis plays an important role."

"I don't want technical deatails. It's the intial negotiations I wonder about. How do you get a woman from A," he jestured outside. "To B" he jestured to his room. "To C" he jestured to his C.

His flat mate smiled knowledgeably, and pulled from his pocket a small packet of tissues as if they were Excalibur.

"This is the key my friend," he declared proudly.

"It is?"

"Can you not tell why?" The tissues were branded even more emphasis. Further examination revealed them to be balmed with aloe vera. Beyond that, all was hidden.

"No? Then let my words paint a glorious picture in your minds eye. Imagine. It's late, your walking down the street. People have been out, drinking, partying, disagreeing. You spy a girl. Oh no she's crying! She had a fall out with her friends. Ha! Friends indeed. No one understands her. Now, Give her the tissue. Let her dry her eyes. You whisper in her ear "I do."

He was stunned. It all seemed so evil, and yet so plausable. Women did cry. On the other hand it wasn't brief liasons he was after. Maybe there was some other way he could help a chick out.

He felt inspiration strike him. There were a few other things women did as well.

"I think I feel a plan of my own coming on." he said.

The next time his flat mate saw him he had a black eye.

"That's one hell of a shiner. There a story to go along with it?"

"I tried doing your thing, but instead of targeting vulnerable drunk women with tissues, a far safer option, I tried my luck with agitated coffee shop girls and their possible need for tampons."

He gently dapped his nose with one such offending article.

"On the plus side, they're surpisingly good for stopping bleeding."

strangers taste the same as friends

2011-01-20T16:08:00.000-08:00

I'm feeling a lot better now, and have shifted from sickness to being merely lazy, which makes for very little observable difference.

My parents house is starting to feel less like home and more like, well my parents house. Maybe it's just boredom and the contrast to the amount of shit you can get up to in the big smoke, or the fact that the little niche of routine I used to have no longer exists. Either way its no great sadness, just the opposite. Means when the time comes to do the lame nesting thing (no time soon!) it'll be easier to settle. Maybe homesickness went with the flu.

We tried to plan my brothers stag today (Best man by the way! If in name only) and I'm given to believe he wants something neither too grand nor sordid. It'll come as a relief to some and perhaps a dissapointment to others, but at least wheels are vaguely in motion, and will probably complete their revolution before the actual wedding-which would be a black mark on any best mans record. Unfortunatly the bride to be has issued an official ban on hermaphrodite strippers, which shoots to shit all previous plans.

I saw Up today and between that and toy story 3 (screw star wars and lotr THIS is the trilogy) Pixar have done a lot to re-open those dusty dry ducts in my eyes. The first 5 minutes in particular really took me by surprise as nothing like it was hinted at by trailers, but its probably one of the greatest, truest prologues ever. No shit or bull included.

Also saw a couple episodes of angel. God damn what a great show, and nerdy wesley was soooo much better than "cool" "sexy" "brooding" wesley. What will those clowns at marketing dream up next?

Back in the saddle...

2011-01-17T15:13:00.000-08:00

...with malformed buttocks.

And like all good habbits, keeping a regular blog has been damn easy to quit. First there was the excuse of graduating and becoming a real person, then the excuse of homelessness, and finally the excuse of no internet (probably the worst of all!)

All of these are gone now (I'll never really be a real person I don't think) and so all that is left is to pull the finger out and initiate operation BEBO-no not the poor mans facebook but the idea of blogging everything and blogging often, and something I totally came up with myself cause i'm the smart one of the family.

there aren't many exciting new things happening to me right now. I live in a flush new flat with a good friend and a mouse and we do typical guy stuff involving games, beer and degrading women (that mouse is so damn sexist) I still have my shitty job that i've been quitting for the last 2 years and a very wonderful and patient better half. I also currently have the flu-not its lesser man shaped variety but the real deal, and the excess mucas has made other things flow in an equally viscous fashion, like this damn blog post. I'm sure I used to find writing a lot easier than i do now-after all I have a degree in the thing and plans to do a pokemon masters in it. Everything comes a lot slower now, except time which is shooting by pretty quick.

Yet lately I have grown sick of my convalesence (wordplay!) and so we have this mess returning to the interweb and hopefully a showing of more ficticious scenarious. After all the orginal ill conceived and partially aborted plan was to delve into the seedy world of online competitions, so maybe i should enter with earnest.

smart witty things to say have dried up like my right nostril so i think its time to leave and excavate

its happening to us all

2010-09-23T04:45:00.000-07:00

She typed with closed fists, only the index fingers extended and hands held crab like. Pushing down on each key with twice as much force as necessary she slowly and ponderously punched her way through the sign up procedure. It was like watching continental drift, with each tectonic movement requiring a strata of questions for which I was forced to provided the answers.

“Click OK. No left click, not right click. You need to tick that box. Don’t push that. Ok, hit return. It’s the big one, no the other big one.”

Each failure was blamed on me and Bill Gates. Each success attributed to her own fortitude. Finally, in the space of time it took for me to drink three beers, she was finally connected.

“Ah ha!” she declared “Now what do I do?”

“Well, you could upload pictures, or customize your profile, or add friends...”

“Yes, I want to do that.”

We typed in names and wades through pages. It wasn’t only her that was surprised just who was part of facebook. Even Granddad was there, though his profile picture seemed deceptively youthful.

Finally the dreaded moment arrived

“And of course I’ll have to add you.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that”

“Why not. We’re friends aren’t we.”

“We’re family mum. It’s completely different.”

“Oh piffle. Why won’t you add me?”

“There are many many compromising photos of me. Many scandalous lies pertaining to my moral character.”

“Well if you don’t do it, then I’ll…tell facebook on you! I’ll report you for abuse!” she clicked around, trying to find the appropriate page, before asking me how to get there. I declined.

“Well then you better get me another voddy from the kitchen!”

I agreed, and helped myself to one while I was there. When I returned I discovered to my horror that she had added all of my friends instead.

“looks like you’re friends like me more than you” she said

“Jokes on you, dearest mama. They have to accept your initiations. And I’ll be damned if I’m letting that happen.”

The next day, my friends had all accepted her.

cause I was too drunk to remember it last night

2010-08-26T04:45:00.001-07:00

I dreamed a dream
of things absurd
and when I woke
I spoke a word

The word was pain
upon my tongue
its taste was strange
it's shape was wrong

I spoke it twice
first hard then soft
I spoke it thrice
My tongue fell off

It should be clear
This poems theme
Never ever
speak words from dreams

Lone Wolf

2010-08-11T06:12:00.000-07:00

All alone for the next 3 weeks, what with better half giving me up for ashy dead people and christians feeding lions in rome. trying to be fairly frugal as well, given that I'm (hopefully) moving flat at the end of the month. Given a replacement has already been found for my current accomodation its quite the imperative that i find somewhere.

But the wheels are in motion and viewings have been arranged. Cream of the crop as far as online pictures go so far is a delightful little den on dick street. and yes half the reason for wanting to live there is the hilarity that will ensue from late night taxi's home.

So between these two things and the dullness of work bobby is not much of a party goer right now. All set to change of course when the second half of the two gallants, one Mr Ross Palmerson, arrives on the scene for his birthday bonanza. I'm taking him to a delicious fish and chip establishment followed by some rather fruity cocktails. And yes, essentially I am using him as a temp date.

I have literally nothing to do today. Don't really want to buy anything as its just more shit to carry away-despite my worst attempts no one wants a shitty 12 (well 10) string guitar.

Sandwich time. the subway kind, not the club dancing kind

Thought of the day-they should really commission another series of how not to live your life, I love that show!

Last night lead to today

2010-08-02T07:39:00.000-07:00

I sat hung-over on the steps. The sun bore down and every time I blinked it seemed my lids were too hot for my eyes. There was a pigeon in front of me, eating vomit that could possibly be mine, while another pigeon was trying in vain to get up on behind it and do the deed. It seemed an apt metaphor for my life, though I wasn’t sure with which one my sympathies lied. Sweat continued to pour out of my body in a steady stream, while the fluids involved around the whole breathing part of me congealed further.

Yep, school was going to be a bitch today

The bell rang, longer and louder than it had any right to, and the great seething mass of dull young minds made their way to wherever they should be. I myself couldn’t face such a challenge right now, and went somewhere I shouldn’t be for a sly smoke.

I went into the toilets and sat in the cubical, taking a moment to collect myself and light one up. Maybe it was the darkness or the steady flow of water, but right then, surrounded as I was by stale piss and paper towels, I felt a moment of almost Zen like tranquality. It would be no hard task for me just to lay my head on the toilet roll, and close my eyes forever.

Of course the second bell, signalling the end of registration went off, and that was my signal to do the same thing. I’d had enough, and hooky was the only way out while maintaining sanity (and sanitation to, going by my smell) Once outside had quieted down I peered out, and made my way down the hall to sweet sweet freedom.

“David!” came a harsh grating voice.

I turned, doomed.

“Yes Mr Fisher?”

“Shouldn’t you be in class young man?”

Young man. What a dick, he was only 5 years older than me.

“I was…just on my way.” I said turning around.

“I think another talk in my office is due soon”

“I look forward to it already, but I better be going, don’t want to be even later!” I faked a laugh and side stepped to safety before he could say another word.

I found the hateful door and opened it. Of course the room was filled with un-openable windows which the sun was facing full on. All beams seemed to converge on my desk. Taking a deep breath, I strode in and faced the music, noting with bad humour today’s lesson plan.

“Ok class” I said, returning the suns glare with one of my own “Today we are going to learn about photosynthesis.”

flippin the birds sick brother

2010-07-01T02:53:00.000-07:00

I done messed up a finger, but it aint one of the important ones, just the ring finger (as if i'll be using it for THAT anytime soon) But it does rule out my ultimate frisbee career for the time being.

I'm also kinda locked out of my own flat, but though bobby is poor in pocket, he is as rich as Donald Trump and Scrooge McDuck combined in friends, so there is a plethora of beds, floors and bathtubs that are a mere phone call away.

Current plans for the future (for I am graduating quite soon) include getting a robert pattinson -or R Patz as he is to me me-haircut, glittering myself up and seeing the new twilight when it comes out. As you can see, i'm not really one for long term strategems, But what they may lack in scope, they make up for in detail.

went to the zoooooo. saw a monkeys dong

its a depressing day when you realise your girlfriend parties harder than you.

"cast them oats into the sea, me hearties"

2010-06-08T06:39:00.000-07:00

Had the grad prom and looked very dashing. Course I don't know if i've actually graduated yet, as in a shrewd move to sell more tickets the prom is before exam results.

Apparently when i'm kilted up I resemble the Scottish oats guys evil dark brother. Also some drunk french chick was convinced i was in point of fact a pirate. Both of these are things i could easily live with, and should I fail to come up with any other career path they will be welcome alternatives.

Still broke

mysteries of the internet

2010-06-03T07:52:00.000-07:00

For some reason that i've yet to figure typing in "tomas nevergrin" into google images comes up with a picture of yours truly (2nd page) This of course finally settles the matter as to what i should call my band and or pen name.

In other news i bought a kilt. i was also advised by the lady to got black for socks and shirt, partly because i'm quite dark (with equilvelant levels of tall and handsome) but mainly because her dress is black and it would flatter her more.

And now I'm quite broke. but only in the sense that i have no money and not that I'm in tremendous amounts of debt. in fact in all probablity, and equity aside i'm most likely the wealthiest family member.

thought of the day-why is it the hotter the day, the fatter the topless men?

the jack sandwich

2010-06-02T07:43:00.000-07:00

From now on all doubles will be ordered this way.

Measure

mixer

Mesaure

Trust me when i say your drinking experience will be greatly enhanced

lame theories as to what the man in black's name is from lost

2010-05-19T06:05:00.000-07:00

not that anyones watching it anymore

Thomas (hobbes)

John (why not)

Jacob (she only picked one name and gave them the same)

ummm...anything else i say has already been said

revison

2010-05-19T06:02:00.000-07:00

it consists of this

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BHihkRwisbE

The Fail

2010-05-14T10:03:00.000-07:00

In queue with the lady for the makings of a delightful homecooked meal. cue following conversation:

cahsier"Do you need bags"

Lady "Umm"

Me "No, I got mine"

cashier "Ok

Me "Saving the planet and all that"

lady "save the world bobby"

Me (v. loudly) "Save the cheerleader!"

casheir "what?"

Lady "Huh?"

cashier "did you just say save the cheerleader?"

Me "...noooooooo"

"Lady "you're wierd"

Me "...."

Course the fail was on THEIR account for failing to get it. Watching monster the anime form recommendation and after kinda sukcing for 5 episodes its starting to kick ass. here's a taster as to what it's like

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nk8Il0gKhig

screw exams!

semi errotic smurf fan fiction

2010-05-06T07:08:00.000-07:00

First came on the stockings, lacy and white, matching her thong. Then over the shoulders went the cream dress, strapless and just long enough to be short of scandalous. She then brushed her thick peroxide hair till all the flicks were in just the right places. Apply moonlight foundation, a couple squirts of le Pays maudit and then finally and with a pout violet lipstick is liberally applied. She blew herself a kiss in the mirror and turned to the person behind her.
“How do I look?” she said
“Christ” said Vanity, her gay roommate “And I thought I spent a lot of time in front of the mirror”
She stood up and spanked him playfully through his crotch-tight beige jeans
“You can’t rush smurfection” Smurfette said.
“Whatever” replied Vanity.

Just then Smurfette’s phone rang. She looked at the call ID and rolled her eyes. “Papa don’t preach” she muttered before answering.
“Hi daddy…yes yes I’m fine…no nothing really, just about to go out foraging…Vanity…no he doesn’t have a girlfriend yet…I know its baffling, him being such a sharp dresser…yes I’m eating enough”
She turned to Vanity and pressed her tongue against the inside of her mouth a couple times. Vanity stifled a giggle. “so much for daddy’s good little girl” he whispered.
“Yes ok…ok…bye daddy” she hung up and sighed.
“Foraging, eh?” said Vanity
“Well…foraging for men” she said with a smile. “Good men are hard to find out there, you know.”
“I thought it was that hard men were good to find” said Vanity. He pulled smurfette towards the door. “Come on girlfriend, let’s go get smurfed”

·

After skipping the queue and charming her way past Hefty, who was on door that night, Vanity and Smurfette stepped into The Forrest, known to be the hippest venue in the land. Music blared and eyes leered at the two of them.
“I hate smurno music” Vanity complained
“A few Smurfbucas will see to that. But why are they all staring?” Smurfette asked
“Well, it was kind of cold out there you know”
“So?”
“So your snipples are showing through your dress”
“Oh. Oh well, let’s see if these blue bullets can set us up with some free drinks.” She made her way purposefully to the bar, turning back to call to Vanity, “What’ll it be?”
“Triple gin and slim line tonic” he shouted.
“A smurfnoff ice it is”
“Smurf you bitch”
Sure enough as soon as Smurfette had wiggled her way to the front of the bar a hand was placed on hers and a voice spoke over the music. “Pint of John smurf extra smooth and whatever the lady is having” it said.
“What a gentleman” she said, before placing a lengthy order
“Someone’s looking to get smurfed tonight” the voice commented
She smiled and stroked the hand “Someone might get smurfed tonight if they’re lucky” she then picked up the drinks and walked away, not even pausing to think that she hadn’t even seen the face that went with the hand.
“Fucking cocktease” he muttered.

She returned to Vanity, spilling some of the drinks on her dress in the process.
“What a mess you are” said Vanity
“And that’s only the start” she said, knocking back two of the shots.
“Uh oh” Vanity pointed “Look who it is”
Five figures strode into the club, all jeans and leather jackets. Their trumpet like appendages sprouted from their heads, throbbing thick and virile. An aura of quiet menace seemed to emanate from them and wherever they stepped people made way.
“I hate fucking Snorks” said Vanity, as they all squared up the punching machine that lay in the corner. “They’re selfish, stupid vain bastards that only think with their snorkles.
“Sounds a lot like someone I know” commented Smurfete
“Oh whatever. Just promise me right now kitten that you’ll stay away from them”
“Fine”

Time passed. People passed out. Magical mushrooms were passed around. All the usual things happened. Smurfette had been grouped and grinded against but none of her suitors seemed to suit her. The smoke machine was working overtime, probably so that those coupling on the dance floor were spared the sight of their partners. Hot, sweaty and need fresh air, Smurfette stepped outside for a smiggarete. Vanity had long ago disappeared, no doubt hoping to convince the juicy barman that he was secretly gay.
Stepping into the cool night air she took her smokes from between her cleavage (nature’s handbag) but realized that she didn’t have a lighter. Swearing, she pattered her various recesses in the hope that one would miraculously emerge.

“Here” a flame came towards the prone tip and she put it in her mouth, puffing with grateful desperation.
“Thanks” she said, turning to her pyrotechnic saviour. With a slight start she saw it was one of the Snorks from earlier. He looked like he had been carved from stone, so still and hard he stood. He lit his own smiggarete and took a deep draw. By ember glow Smurfete saw that only his eyes were soft, looking weary as they rested upon her.
“Some night” he said.
“Sure is. Where’d you’re friends go?”
“Sniffing skirt inside”
“And you’re not?”
“I have a cold.” He took another draw and blew a ring from his snorkel. “Not much of a people person anyway”
“Oh you’re not doing so bad”
“That’s cause you’re a person, not people. Persons are fine until you put them together”
“So I guess that makes you a person person” said smurfete, smiling.
“I guess it does”

Smurfete moved closer and touched his leather jacket lightly. “So why the get up, Mr Danny Zuko. Surely being in a gang doesn’t benefit a non-people person like you. In fact you don’t seem much like gang material at all”

He shrugged “Appearances can fool. Case in point over there.” He pointed to a nearby bush where smurfete could just make out Vanity tugging away at one of the other Snorks snorkel
“What a hypocrite” she said, laughing.
“And what about you” the snork asked
“What about me”
“Well, the slutty dress and bad girl attitude doesn’t really go with the fact that you’re a virgin”
Smurfete blushed a deep amethyst. “Oh well…that…I…your wrong…but” She finally settled on a defeated “how?”
The snork pointed to his snorkel. “These things can do a lot, as you’re friend in the bush is about to find out. One thing they can do is sniff bullshit. So…why the act?”
Smurfete sighed. “The usual cliché. Found out my papa wasn’t actually my papa and I was actually created by an evil wizard. Both wanted different things of me so of course I ended up hating each of them. Freudy smurf would have a field day with me”
“Well that’s some pretty fucked up shit”

Smurfete smiled. It was strange, but just hearing someone admit how weird her life was made her feel a whole lot better about herself. “Yeah, it sure is she said”
“Hey, Buddy!”
The two turned around to see a large smurf approaching, looking very angry.
“There a problem here?” the snork asked, standing in front of smurfete
“Damn right there is. I bought this chick a shit load of hooch and I expect some return for my investment. And I come out here to see some ass hat cashing in my account. Well fat chance pal!”
He threw a punch at the snork who ducked. As he rose back so to did his snorkel and it caught the smurf clean on the chin, who fell to the floor and didn’t get back up.
“See, told you these things could do a lot” said the snork, rubbing his head with a wince.

Later on smurfete had found her way back to the flat. She had met up with Vanity (while he was wiping his mouth and muttering something about salt) and the two of them gossiped with each other about the nights events. Vanity’s dislike of Snorks seemed to have curiously vanished, so smurfete didn’t feel bad about revealing that she had ignored his earlier advice.
“Well if he’s half the snork mine was, then you’ve a lot to the look forward to little lady” he said
“Oh hush up you” she replied with a giggle.

In a dark dark castle a dark dark man spoke in a dark dark voice.
“And you think you can bring her back to our side?”
“Yes master”
“You’re sure?”
“Best way to crack a person is to break their heart”
“Excellent work, Allstar
“Thank you, master Gargamel” replied the snork.

"We have narrowed it down to the Butcher knife and the Mocking bird"

2010-05-03T06:43:00.001-07:00

Revision's a funny old thing. The more you do the less you think you know, and the less confident you are about exams. There's probably a bunch of people who have failed from revising too much and chilling too little. Not that i'm anywhere near a happy medium myself.

Bought a bukowski poetry book the other day, with my ill gotten winnings from creatively writing about a boy's hole. I don't think we would have liked each other if we met, but He's dead and i'm vaguely atheistic so chances are slim that'll happen. Trying to savvy up on my poetry lately, and chances are you'll find a few failed efforts surfacing here.

Speaking of which, this blog might, much like it's author and owner, be forced to finish prematurely. It's my university email that i use for it, and no idea what happens to that when i'm dusted and done.

And what an expensive business finishing is. £35 for the ceremony. £45 for the grad ball and an undisclosed amount on post exam celebrations/commiserations. Plus I think i'll be missing that student overdraft once it eventually dissappears.

But if The Game of Life has taught me anything, its that neither gradutate status, nor occupation matter much. What really sets you up is winning the lottery and overspending it on life insurance.

2010-04-27T07:21:00.000-07:00

I got back an essay today. what set it apart from many of my other essays was the lenght of time and the amount of effort I spent on it-Two weeks of in comparison to the usual two days. What it had in common with my other essays was the mark.

On the plus side I went down to Essex for a wedding, hit the town after in a kilt, and wasn't mugged despite it being St Georges day. Many a slag was seen and many an accent poorly imitated, though the bloody doors never quite got blown off.

And now its back to work work work work

I'd Laugh if it didn't hurt to jiggle

2010-04-14T04:41:00.000-07:00

So basically i forgot to buy soap and instead used fairly liquid, not being too careful about where I applied it. I mean there's a picture of the baby on the front and plenty of adverts about delicate hands, so i should be ok right?

Wrong

Cue a very tender day at work the following morn, followed by a lenghty and detailed phone conversation about why i couldn't go out drinking.

On the plus my lady had left mositureizer from when she was last over, and hell i'm tempted to apply it everyday regardless of the status downstairs, so cool and refreshing did it feel

Bob's Corner

2010-04-14T04:38:00.000-07:00

New episode (season?) of Glee on monday

all i can say about that is...Outstanding

and it is certainly fairing better than the increasing medicority of Lost, especially since the "all you need is love" revelation

And that's how bob C's it

Dissertation

2010-03-30T06:18:00.000-07:00

It's done and handed in. Now let us never speak of it again.

The Boy who Cried Wolves

2010-03-24T07:24:00.000-07:00

Once, long ago, there was a boy who told lies. He never did it to be cruel however. In fact every single lie told was made to make the ears, and the person attached to them, happy. This was the sole concern of the boy, for it seemed to him the only way to be, and the fact that making others happy caused him to feel the same seemed reason enough for this belief.

When walking through the village he did his best to say the things he thought his fellow villagers wanted to hear.

“Hello Farmer Blight, your crops are looking healthy and good this year.

“Why thank you my boy” replied the rake thin man.

“Your cream looks so fresh Miss Curdle, what’s your secret?”

“Sun, and plenty of it” She declared confidently.

“Mrs Wrinkles you get younger each day I see you, surely you don’t need that crutch.”

“What a kind child. You remind me of all the suitors that used to call at my door.”

“And I’m sure they still do.”

“Oh you” she said with a girlish giggle and a toss of her frail, chicken neck.

And so it was that the villagers loved the boy and his lying ways, often showering him with all manner of gifts and praises. Indeed it seemed clear to them all that he would grow up to be a great man one day, perhaps a barrister or even a Lord. And if not, then a new mayor was
needed, so strongly did they all care for him.

Except for one. She was a bitter old lady, who took comfort in loneliness and delight in pointing out the flaws of others. She hated the boy, while he in turn was terrified of her. She appeared to look in him rather than at him, and no matter what kind things he said to her she never once smiled. He have would never visited her at all if she hadn’t been his grandmother.

“It’s good to see you again grandmother” the boy would say every time he called, only for her to hit him promptly with her walking stick.

“You’re cottage is looking clean.”

Stick.

“That’s a fine collection of books.”

Stick.

“Father sends his love, and wishes he has time to see you. He misses you so much.”

Stick. Stick. Stick.

The boy would go home, covered in cuts and bruises, blinking back tears.

“What happened to you?” his mother would ask.

“I offered to shoe Grandmothers donkey and he kicked out. It was my own fault.” Each time the boy told a different lie, wanting for his parents to not worry about him. For as you know, his lies were only told to make people happy.

His mother would shake her head at how accident prone he was and gently chide him to be more careful. The boy’s father would remain silent.

But this time, when once again the boy called on his Grandmother, something very different happened. She had baked him a cake, and beseeched him to take a bite while it was still warm.

“It tastes wonderful Grandmother.”

“That’s strange. All that is in it is dirt, hair and ditch water. Now run along boy, go tell your tales.”

The boy did as he was bidden; amazed that he hadn’t been beaten this time. As he walked home he met the woodsman.”

“A fine day is it not?” the boy asked, gesturing up to the overcast skies. His words were slightly mocked by the raindrop he felt spring on his face.

The woodsman smiled at this vague pleasantry, but then his expression quickly turned to fear. He pointed at the boy’s face, who confusedly made to brush away the raindrop. He felt a sudden pain in his finger and brought it away to examine. There were tiny droplets of blood, looking very much like teeth marks.

The boy looked up to see the woodsman roughly brush past him, making the sign to ward off evil as he went. Thinking it had been some sort of beetle, the boy went on.
He came across Mrs Wrinkles, who was now wearing heavy make up and no longer walked with her crutch.

“Looking as lovely as ever” he said.

An even larger raindrop fell on his eye, and he felt it spring from his cheek. He blinked and rubbed his face to clear his blurry vision. He heard Mrs Wrinkle cry out and when he was finally able to look he saw her on the ground, bleeding.

“Get away from me!” she screamed at him.

Fearfully the boy ran home, slamming the door behind him when he entered.

“What’s wrong?” his mother asked, brought to the commotion by all the noise”

“Nothings wrong mother, don’t worry.”

How could it rain indoors? More water blinded his vision and the boy felt something spring from his face. His mother cried out and there was stamping and snarling. When he could once again see he saw his father standing in front of his mother, deep scratches and bites all down his arms. On the floor was a broad puddle of water.

“Why is this happening? Why!?”

His father looked at him. “Did you cross your Grandmother?”

Old habits are hard to be rid of, especially ones we have had our entire lives. “Of course not, I love her.”

The boy felt his eyes being squeezed dry, and it seemed something massive and wild was trying to jump from them. He shut his lids tightly to cut it off, but he felt two snouts push their way out from each.

And there they were, two great and terrible wolves, built from shimmering water.

“Go to her! NOW!” his father shouted, turning to face the wolves.

The boy opened the door and fled out, but one of the wolves gave chase. He could hear its wet footfalls splashing off the ground and as it drew closer it gave of a gurgling howl.

He reached his Grandmothers cottage and desperately threw open the door, forcing it to closed against the drenched padding of the wolf.

And there she sat in her old wicker chair, staring in him rather than at.

“Why did you do this to me?” he asked her. “I was nothing but kind to you”

“You did nothing but lie to me” she said.

“But I just wanted to make you happy”

“Who could be happy with a lie?”

“Please help me. Change back whatever it was you did”

“I can’t.”

“I hate you! I hate you so much!”

There was a loud splashing sound outside. The boy cautiously peered out the window. Where the
wolf had been was now a deep, wide puddle. The boy turned to his Grandmother.

“I think you know what you need to do” she said.

He nodded, and made to leave. Before he did however, he turned and stared into her.

“You’re a mean old woman”

She smiled.

“I am” she said

The Dog House

2010-03-10T07:49:00.001-08:00

It aint a fun place to be

just think of that view

2010-03-09T07:24:00.000-08:00

Do you ever feel like the current level of coolness at which you are currently standing at is just a few rungs down from where you would ideally pefer to be?

Also I overheard a girl bitch about her ex to her friends and boy are we men bastards

we're at that stage

2010-03-01T03:26:00.000-08:00

There comes a time in everyones relationship, and there is no telling when or indeed where it might be, yet it will inevitably happen that your better half ends up filming you while you're alseep just to prove that you do indeed snore.

which is why i'm not allowed to sleep on my back

Communicating Last Wishes

2010-02-18T07:32:00.000-08:00

He beckoned me close, and whispered words in my ear. Then he died, and I walked out of that room and into this room where they had been sitting, leaning and standing. We were all clad in white robes, as was the custom when someone had passed or was soon expected to, excepting Jennifer who had come straight from work.

I told them what had happened.

Then I said this.

“That is why I am standing here now, to say exactly as he did to me. And from there we can decide. His instructions were very specific so I don’t expect that reaching a decision will be overly difficult”

I looked to my right.

“First of all…David, I’m sorry, but he said that although he liked you well enough, he never really loved you. He didn’t say it out of anger or malice, only truth. Perhaps it’s just down to the way you are, or the way he was or some combination of the two. Whatever the reason, he said you weren’t to worry about it. As money has never been an issue for you, and you have spent much of your life successfully employed in various middle management jobs at various fast food franchises, none of his own fortune was dedicated to you. However, knowing your love of travel and adventure, he did leave you both his hot air balloon and his Kawasaki JS400 jet ski, upon the condition that you utilize both in an elaborate stunt of which he left specific diagrams detailing”

David looked confused and tired, as he always did. But he nodded anyway. A few tears ran down his face, hugging its crevices. Like the tears he was always willing to follow the path of least resistance.

I looked towards the largest chair, which contained the smallest and frailest person of the group.
“Sarah, he was married to you for forty two years, and said the good parts of it far outweighed the bad. He definitely did love you, and his biggest regret was keeping that small piece of himself away from you as he did with everyone else. He though he needed that piece as security, something that would remain whole should circumstances end up breaking other parts of him. But at the very end it only served to burden him. He also said that you should consider yourself free of any obligations that you might feel you have towards him, and act only in a way that will bring you the most happiness. To you he has left the mansion, and all possessions contained within, barring those that were dedicated elsewhere”

The woman stared numbly through her glasses with equally glassy eyes. She was in no condition to say anything. However, the attractive young lady to her right made as if to speak. I had expected her to be more reserved, what with being a nurse at the geriatric ward and presumably used to the solemnity of death. I immediately cut her off, needing to maintain my flow.

“He knew about your affair Jennifer, and keeping it a secret hurt him. Although he never met your husband no man deserves to be lied to in such a way. That was all he said about you, excepting the $50, 00000 in personal assets that were set aside for you”

Her eyes widened in a satisfying manner, and she bit her lip. Firm as my resolution had been, I found it hard not to be aroused by the sight. I quickly turned away and faced a man whose face resembled that of a decomposing bulldog.

“To his loyal butler and lifelong companion Benson Sévantman, faithful since the day he was born he gives you his deluxe Monopoly set that the two of you enjoyed so many games of together upon a dreary autumn afternoon. The only exception to this is the get out of jail free card, which he has elected to be buried with.”

Any change in expression produced by this information was impossible to gauge. Some of the folds shifted in what might have either been a wry smile or a bitter grimace.

“Arnold, you know as well as anyone the odd sort of humour he had. It was common knowledge that you were only hired as gardener because of your diminutive stature and your resemblance to the traditional depiction of folklore gnomes. Yet many, including yourself I suspect viewed any indignities upon you as…small price to pay for your uncommonly large salary. For you, he left his Canadian Gold mine, providing that you yourself act as employee there. Fortunately no particular position was specified, so I’m sure you could some find comfortable executive slot to fill”

An uncontrolled fit of coughing suddenly gripped me and it felt as if I was bringing up myself from within. It was a terrible sensation that lasted an age. Jennifer began to rise to my aid, but I regained my composure and waved her away.

I paused, and walked over to a counter where a bottle of Catdaddy corn whisky sat, complete with adjacent tumblers. I poured myself a generous measure, not regarding it as impolite given the circumstances. Several of the other people in the room already had beverages, and in fact I regarded it as poor hosting that I had not already been offered one.

I sipped slowly, my taste buds noting with some surprise the slight medicinal taste. But there were more important tasks for it right now.

“These were his last wishes, his dying request. It is well known that he never intended at any point in his life to write a will or other legal documents detailing the distribution of his estates. He never really trusted the written word, after all that business with library card form and the federal agency”

“I don’t know why he chose me for his last conversation, one sided as it was. He was always such a difficult man to understand. But while he often kept his motives secret and his actions obscure, the successes they yielded are as plain as the mahogany furniture in this room. Belief and trust are things not readily won, and it would be wrong of me to automatically expect them from you. I leave it entirely up to you if you wish to act upon the things I have said. The things that he in turn said to me. The only thing I can do is offer you all my deepest sympathies. I’m not just saying this. I’m meaning it, which is something people seldom do with the words from their mouths”

I looked at each of their faces intently, excepting Jennifer whose body I looked at intently. A knowing glance passed between us.

That glance didn’t last though, because so many other stares were crossing its path and following the trail back to my own eyes. I began to feel uncomfortable under all this attention and sat down in one of those thick mahogany chairs that I had just been speaking about.
Sarah began muttering something, the first sound any other person had made so far. I strained to hear her.

“Shitcuntfuckcuntwhosaywhosawwhoyou”

The words, or word as it was spoken so quickly and without pause took me aback somewhat, but it was always said that there was a history of mental illness in the family. And if anything could break a mind the death of someone you loved would.

Fortunately Jennifer rose to the occasion and from her seat. She approached me and took the nearby bottle of Catdaddy, pouring a small measure which she then handed to the poor woman. She helped her sip it and it immediately caused Sarah to quieten down. Tonic for the catatonic I thought to myself.

Jennifer looked up from her nursing of Sarah and shot me a disapproving look. She came up to me and led me away from the others. We stood in the corner, just on the cusp of each other’s personal space.

“That wasn’t a kind thing to say” she said in an unkind voice.

“I wasn’t aware that I had spoken” I said, honestly.

“That has always been one of your problems”

“We all have our problems” I said. “Problems with control and problems with marriages. I only have one of those. You have both”

I wondered if I had pushed too far, but she only sighed a little and nodded.
“I love you” she said. “I wish I didn’t but I do”

Privately I thought she only loved the idea of being in love, as was the case with most people. I found loving a lot more difficult. I wasn’t even sure if I loved my mother. Yet I thought that maybe, slowly and surely I was beginning to love this woman.

I decided that now was the time to reveal my plan to her.

“We could leave here,” I said. “Elope from dreary lives to distant lands. Why with the fortune you’ve been mysteriously and conveniently left we would no longer have to live in a world of lowered ceilings and defeated horizons”

Her eyes moistened “Nothing would make me happier than if you were able to leave this place. But you’re sick. And we can’t let you go until you get better”

“Don’t you mean that you can’t let me go?”

Jennifer looked down and nodded. But what she said was true enough. I had been feeling very poorly as of late, and a great deal of my time was spent either sleeping or resting. In fact this perpetual convalescence was beginning to wear quite thin with me.

As if on queue another bought terrible coughing returned, causing me to double up. The pain was both distant and intense. Jennifer quickly brought me a chair, a spindly metal thing, and lowered me into it. I’d rather have had one of those rich mahogany ones but they appeared to have been taken away. Only these cheap mass produced things remained.

Jennifer brought me something to drink and I took a deep draught of the Catdaddy whisky, the crystal tumbler feeling oddly like plastic. It steadied my body, lowering my convulsions to a mere shudder.

I held myself and began rocking back and forth, huddled in my white robe.

“I wish to leave” I said quietly.

“You can’t” said the nurse.

typing "awesome" into ebay search just to kill time

2010-02-15T05:48:00.001-08:00

People often ask me "Robert, what was your favourite saturday morning cartoon featuring a hollywood celebrity" and I invariably answer "why Jackie Chan Adventures of course" with it's colourful blend of characters and rich emmersive plotlines few shows could match it for viewing pleasure

Generic party chat

2010-02-05T08:38:00.000-08:00

Have nothing to say at parties? feel like the social outcast? sitting alone in the corner watching the jackets? Fear not! with these general phrases and ice breakers you'll soon find yourself the heart of any party.

Ain’t nothing but a chicken wing

Livin it large and keeping it fresh

Shit gets real, I get shittin

Lets score coconuts to sip rum outta them

Dude you can totally see her over the shoulder boulder holder through that top

I’m just gonna freestyle it tonight

When you talk shit, means your full of shit

Wanna go out and buy a novelty cake?

I dunno man, there’s enough hot dog here to end up in anybodies bun

If you gonna stick it to the man, better wear protection

I’ll go where I please, and please where I go

The frosty jacks fair game, anything else merits a courtesy call

Twisters no more gay than slow mo rugby

No one do lines where folk gotta piss

Bathroom locks just a dumb idea man. People could die

Why we playin dance music when there’s nowhere to mufa fuckin dance

You so crazy, I think I wanna have your babies

You freak out that easy you aint gonna last the night

It’s a marathon, not a race

Every drink tastes better when its been set on fire-that’s like science

Power naps are cool cause they got the word power in them

If you spew you gotta clean it up-that’s like the law

Dude your totally red baroning-she’s gonna shoot you down in FLAMES

Drinking games? Man it aint no game-tis serious business

This shits lamer than free view porn

She’d even be a MILF when the baby was comin out

Look whose Tapping

2010-02-05T04:14:00.000-08:00

Mummy sat on the couch, looking sick and tired and fat and happy.
“Come and feel this Robbie-bobby” she said to me.
I do as she says, though I don’t really want to. I never mind people touching me, but I don’t like to touch them.

I put my hand on her tummy slow, in case she bursts. She moves it to where she wants it to be, and I feel the bump bump, like someone is knocking on a door inside her.

“That’s your little brother” Mummy says. “He’s saying hi to us”

This makes touching her ok, as it feels like he is the one trying to touch me. I put my ear to her tummy and listen. Her belly button is like the hole of the sea shell from St Andrews. I hear the ocean rush in it, and then I feel my ear being kicked. I back away, thinking my little brother will be a lot like my big one.

“Maybe he’s trying to tell you something in Morse code” says Daddy, who has been watching us over his paper. He then tells me what Morse code is and I try beeping S.O.S. It works, and I know what I am beeping even though it makes no sense to mummy and daddy. They might be grown up but they aren’t smart a lot of the time.

·

Later I wake up. Its night and it’s noisy. Everyone snores but me. I get up to pee. Even though I could pee anywhere I pee in the toilet. I step down the hall and listen at their door. Daddy has a loud steady snore, like one from T.V. Mummy’s snore is amazing. She sounds like she is cutting farts with a chainsaw. They both sleep so heavy because they have to, and because they love each other, so I don’t worry about waking them.

I wonder if my little brother is snoring too. He’s probably awake, with all that noise so close. I walk into their room and stand by my Mummy. I put my head on her tummy and listen through the covers.

The thuds come, gentle and hard, dots and dashes. My brother is trying to tell me something, and I use my Morse code to work it out.

Soft soft soft hard hard hard soft soft soft. S.O.S. he’s asking for help.

I tab a message on the tummy back to him “are you ok?”

“Hello?” he says, or kicks. “Can you get me out of here?”

“I don’t think so,” I tap back. “I think you have a few months to go.”

“Sentenced to nine months jail without even a trial. Life isn’t fair sometimes.”

“I’m sorry” I tap

“Oh well. What’s it like out there anyway. I don’t want to discover I’m trading one prison in for another.”

I look around the small dark room that smells like my Mummy and Daddy when they smell.
“It’s ok” I tap. “What’s you’re name?”

But all this tapping has finally woken up my Mummy and she tells me in an angry voice to go back to bed.

·

Sometime later my little brother is born and when he comes home we all gathers around. My mummy and daddy haven’t thought of what to call him yet.

“His name’s Jamie” I say, wondering again why they aren’t always very smart.

Least manly moment?

2010-02-05T04:13:00.000-08:00

Buying the Glee CD online whilst the entirely library looks on

: (

Ebays Ebitch

2010-02-04T06:50:00.000-08:00

I spent all my Valentines money on yugioh cards from ebay.

As we are often heard to say in these parts-"There is no possible way that this could end badly"

Farcical Hair

2010-02-04T06:42:00.000-08:00

I shaved my beard off.

It was lonely so it took some skin
with it.

It would't go down the sink
because it was too big
So tried flushing it down
the toilet, but
it just danced on the cresting
foam, riding out the wave
and coming out the tunnel
like a pro surfer

I scooped it out and tried to throw
it in the bin but
it clung to my hand like a
frightened infant

Eventually i unclasped its
many fingers and went out to
buy milk

BUT! my face was so cold
so i went back home
and opened the bin
and now i have a beard again

Damnit!

2010-01-28T07:18:00.000-08:00

You think your on to a sweet ass idea like opening the first metrosexual gym and calling it "Pecs and the City" but of course somebody already bet you to the punch. ever get there feeling theres too many people in the world having great ideas just moments before you do?

Damnit!

on the plus i totally did 100 push ups yesterday-despite consuming a reasonable amount of alcohol

Trying to stave off melancholy by doing push ups

2010-01-27T06:45:00.000-08:00

Man soon as the good weather gets here i'm gonna round up the troops and we gonna play the shit outta some frisbee.

Totally emailed the first draft of dissertation so suck on that bitches

Day of 100 Push Ups

2010-01-26T07:01:00.000-08:00

The Day of 100 push ups is in point of fact tommorrow (wednesday january 26th 2010)

In the course of the entire day you must fill the afore mentioned quota of push ups. You can break it down in whatever way you wish but all 100 must be completed before the stroke of midnight.

you are not obliged to be monitored, though feel free to aquire witnesses to your potential triumph. The Day of 100 push ups relies entirely upon the honour system. if you lie, you lie only to yourself.

The only reward on offer is personal satisfaction and the ability to boldly proclaim, "yeah babe, did 100 push ups in a day once, wanna touch my guns?"

good luck and god speed

things not to say to your girlfriend

2009-12-29T05:56:00.000-08:00

who are you?
don't leak on me!
well i guess from an objective perspective she is prettier than you
you're very homely
periods are just an urban legend
can i have one of your birth control pills
you do look a bit pregnant

not that i've ever said any of these

They Call me...(or i'd like them to call me)

2009-12-29T05:38:00.000-08:00

...The Iron Liver
The man with blood on his hands
Disabled Cain (think about it)
Thankertons Blue Flash
The Maltease Falcon
Die schone Krieg
Shalashashka
6
King of games
bloody thumbs
the boner donor
liquid alcohol
grey eyes
Punch Fist!
Guitar Beer-oh
Lando's revenge
da vinci tongue
Jaeger Master
whos the Jose
Scooby Did
The turner
Lesbians last resort

and how was your christmas?

neither a man of wealth nor taste

2009-12-17T09:34:00.000-08:00

My mother-Now remember Robert, don't beleive a girl just because she says she's on the pill
Me-what pill?
My mother-oh christ....

But that was quite a while ago, and i now know that the pill is a type of tax that women have to pay based on the size of their breasts. Winter is here and i am cold. i wear 5 layers to bed and still wake with a shiver. Maybe i should really invest in some thermal under wear, for the fashion police deemed me criminally inane a long time ago.

Ploughing my way through lost, the result of which a new sexy theory has emerged. Metallic objects disrupt the smoke monster from taking corpeal form, hence why evil locke had to get richard to yank that bullet outta past locke, and ALSO why echo's brother couldn't be impersonated (excluding dreams) till echo took the metal cross off him. Also, i suspect the valinzetti equation is far older than you might think...

the futures comin fast, and maybe i should actually start making some plans to meet and greet it, rather than it just barging in unannounced and drinking all my hooch.

also me and musical dave (his other nickname is too harsh for the online world) decided to form a band named THE DEVILS THREEWAY! it doesn't get much more ambiguous than that.

If i had fish I'd name them after fonts

2009-11-20T06:28:00.001-08:00

Guess who totally scored a bottle of ketel one vodka last night? MEEEEEE. Hopefully no one will realise that the only reason I am buying such an extragant liquid is because it keeps getting mentioned in the now web comic of choice Achewood. Whoops! too late. But maybe, deep down, I wanted to be caught. It's certainly true that that shit is smoooooth man.

Last nights zany antics inspired this poem for my next creative writing class. Blame Bukowski for making me think its ok to write about shit like this.

Damn you Mr Daniels

I am riddled with shots
from a duel with a
Southern gentleman

My insides feel like
They’re trying to make it outside
A peristalsis betrayal

Stomach is trying
To copy Russian gymnasts
Summersault assults

My body, filled with sin
Casts the first stones
At my kidneys

A cowardly liver
Turns yellow at the sight
Of its mighty workload

Whilst my bladder
Taunts me
With its weakness

Robert in...BLUNDERLAND

2009-11-18T07:09:00.000-08:00

Wouldn't you know it, they moved my bloody essay submission date a whole month the wrong way. and due to a lack of observance at the critical moment i only found this out on the bloody day it was due. Cue 3000 words of sheer pish in 2 days from me, the worst of which was my confidently declaring that Alice in wonderland was a text promoting veganism.

Also, wheres a brother to buy to ketel one vodka in Glasgow???

shades

2009-11-17T07:45:00.002-08:00

man i gotta find a reason to wear shades more often than just when i'm hungover

lyrics for drunken guitar playing

2009-11-17T07:44:00.000-08:00

Modern times make a clockwork mind
Mines gone rusty from the daily grind
So I lube it up with weak willed liquor
To make the week pass by quicker

To make it pass I’ll make some passes
Stare at tits and grab some asses
Come the morn you can smell the musk
Split like glue and piss like rust

What say you to a heart slow beating?
Rest your head on my central heating
Sweat will stick and cling like dew
As you lie with me while I lie to you

I got more tears than a crocodile
Got more dreams than a paedophile
Full of more shite than a sewer pipe
My souls an arse that needs a wipe

Never grin at a sharks fin

2009-11-13T08:02:00.000-08:00

Insomnias hit me again, and my eyes feel a few sizes too big for their sockets. Reckon I'll go on a long late walk so i get my z's for work tommorow.

I have some strange ways of trying to get to sleep. here are a few

I imagine i am being buried under the earth, each spadeful weighing me deeper into sleep
I picture me sinking into warm black oil
I pretend Derren Brown is hypnotising me with a big gold watch
I count the different parts of a sheep jumping over a fence and re-assembling on the other side
i try to use my brain as a radio to tune into FM Dreams

We did the 12 hour challenge once again, although for me personally it was more like 10 and a half. And some might say that it went rather well (not me though, considering how many drinks i got for other folk)

My dissertation supervisor gave me the vote of confidence yesterday. Basically said that a decent mark was in the bag if i contined as i was. And I'm not exactly straining myself. As always, the bob is all about la Sprezzatura.

Motivation has been hard to come by lately, despite a fairly eager start. i suspect its more to do with health, diet and exercises than any deep rooted melancholy.

A bit about me

2009-11-09T07:13:00.000-08:00

I remember being small and thinking I had super powers-namely the ability to tolerate supreme heat. Story goes that i used to take baths all the time (back when i could actually fit in the tub) And these baths would be scorchio hot hot, as hot as i could stand. And i realised that if i waited long enough, i'd eventually get used to it and be able to have even hotter water in the tub. i would do this for hours, thinking i was getting towards boiling point and evolving or training my body to take it. The idea that i had just waited so long that the water had cooled down again never once entered my head.

And that is why......all my sperm are dead

Abraham Drinkin

2009-11-04T08:53:00.000-08:00

The presidents only company on haloween was the first lady's

which shows what happens when you don't plan

still, learned to tie a bow tie

A sheep in Wolfs clothing

2009-11-04T08:51:00.000-08:00

Let me tell you a story.

Once there was a lamb, not born white or black but a deep grey. His wool was short and wirey, and so rough that not even his own mother would nuzzle him, though she painfully endured his scratching and biting at her teat.

While other lambs played and frolicked in the vale, this lamb would venture far and wide, taking pleasure in his solitude.

One day he found a cave, with a flickering sun within. Drawn to it, the lamb ventured closer, savouring the warmth as he came nearer and nearer.

Until he saw the wolf.

It was lying down in front of the flickering sun, and slowly raised its head, wild white eyes staring.

“Hello little lamb,” it rumbled. “Come closer. Lie with me in front of the fire”

“Fire?” the lamb asked. It had only heard tell of such a thing once before, when the old black ram of the herd would recount the tale of the broken sky and the tree. The ram had spoken with fear, but the lamb looked on with joy. He slowly moved closer.

“Yes, that’s it. So much braver than the rest of your kind”

Then he saw that the wolf was tied down, a thick vine running round its neck to a heavy rock. Had he come any closer, the vine could have reached him. He stopped, and returned the wolfs hungry gaze impassively.

The wolf gave a low, hoarse laugh. “And smarter too. It matters not. The skin wearer will have scraps for me. He wants me starved, not dead” The wolf lowered its head, looking sad and confused. “It has been so long since I have killed anyway. I keep forgetting the old things. Too many of the new in my head”

“Skin wearer? New things?” the lamb asked curiously. He was still young after all, and loved new knowledge.

“Sit! Come! Heel!” The wolf spat each word out like a curse. “It makes me do things other than I am, whilst it wears my brothers fur as its own. Such a beast there never should be. Oh how I hate it!”

The lamb could not help but feel sorry for the wolf. “Then why not fight it? I see your claws are long and your teeth are sharp. Surely you are more terrible than it?”

The wolfs eyes went dead and it cringed. “I must not bite the hand that feeds” it said softly. Those awful nothing eyes met the lambs “You see, this is what it does. It makes you think things you never would, forces its ways into you. You slowly change. Already I am forgetting how to hate. Already I begin to love it. What am I in the face of such things? A terrible wolf? HA!”

There was a stirring further back in the cave. The wolf cowered. “I have woken him. Quickly little lamb, flee from here, and unless you want to be remade, flee from all such beasts. Surely death is a better fate”

The lamb took heed and ran from the cave, but not before hearing the last growl of the wolf turn into a pitiful yelp that never finished.

Eight suns later the lamb had found its way back to the cave. And there, lying on the ground was the skin of the wolf.

Slowly he crept up to the cave. Slowly he crept up to the wolf. Slowly he crept into its skin.
It was so lovely and warm. The lamb had never felt so safe. He moved its head to the front, and looked out through where the wolfs eyes had been. This felt right.

The lamb wore the skin out of the cave. Stepping clumsily due to its great size, he made its way back to the herd.

As he drew nearer he smelled death in the air. Upon reaching the vale he looked down at what had befallen.

Most of the herd had fled. Those that remained were dead or dying, with a pack of wolves tearing at them. The lamb watched unseen until they had ate their fill and left. Then he came down, and tried to find the trail of those that had fled.

He searched five suns for his herd, all the while wearing the wolfs skin. Nothing attacked him.
And finally, he found them in the one place he didn’t want to search-near the cave. They were all penned up, in a strange dead tree hedge that went all around them.

The grey lamb approached, and saw his mother.

“I found you!” he cried joyfully.
“Baaa” said the mother.
“I can free you! I can free you all!”
“Baaaaaaa” cried another.
“Baaaaaaa”
“Baaa”
“But…”
“Baaaaaaa”
“Baaaaaaaaa”

A terrible truth hit the lamb. The sheep’s coats were all cut short. He didn’t need to think who had done this. His heard. His family. They had all forgotten themselves.

The lamb turned and walked away. Not knowing where else to go he made his way back to the vale. The bodies were still there, as were the wolves. The lamb came down and approached them, waiting to be eaten.

Instead, the wolves greeted him.

“Welcome brother”

“Come eat with us”

“The meal is cold, but hasn’t yet spoiled.

The lamb looked down at the bloody remains of the old black ram who had told him about fire. Slowly he lowered the wolfs jaw down and open, and forced himself to eat.

Here’s a truth for you to keep
Better to run with wolves than live as sheep

Adverse Camber

2009-10-27T07:18:00.000-07:00

This miserable weather is getting to me. Or maybe it's my poor diet, lack of exercise and mild alcoholism.

Halloweens outfit has been confirmed, and honest abe shall take the podium. a drink divided cannot stand. My brother fell off the wagon hard on Thursday, and i joined him, though I had slightly less of a distance to fall. I ended up trying to the spoon the dog, but Larrys only intertesed in the rough stuff. Then I spent the entire hangover trying to work back my failing guitar hero skills, it's embarrassing how much i suck now.

We were sad and played yugioh. Chazz it up baby

Then at another unrelated party i dared people to feel my girlfriends boobs. someone did, which was annoying. I'm a jealous pimp

thought of the day-Shepards are just sheep with crooks

That fresh soul smell

2009-10-27T07:15:00.000-07:00

Douglas looked around the sterile room and felt an unwilling kinship with it. He too had been swabbed down and purged of as much bacterial presence as was physically possible. A gleaming man in a gleaming room. Blinking with stinging, fresh washed eye lids he observed all the spare parts that hung about the place, some of which observed him. No, not a gleaming room. A gluing room. These were old thoughts however, and did not trouble him greatly.

The air pressure door opened with a hiss and in came Dr Franklin, all brisk and business. He was after all, a busy man. Excelling at what he did, Dr Franklin was in high demand. Both his craft and the skill in which he practised it required one to be either very rich, or very powerful. Douglas was under no illusions as to which category he fell into.

“Well now Mr Peace glad to see you back so soon” Dr Franklin said as he strode up to Douglas and shook his hand. The courtesy was turned into task and the hand was lifted up to be studied. “Hmm, yes discolouration already. Only to be expected of such early work” He then lifted up Douglas’ other hand to compare. There was an unsettling lack of symmetry between the two
“Only a 52 year difference as well” the Dr murmured, as if this was no time at all. “Still, it’s a wonderful example of how far we have come, don’t you think?”

Douglas flashed him an infant smile as he was guided to the bed. He knew the question was rhetorical and any attempt to begin conversation would be ignored. It seemed to him that even though people now had much more time on their…hands, they were a lot less inclined to spend it on such frivolous tasks as chit chat. Yet it did amaze him how streamlined things here had all become. Previously there had been endless forms to fill and tests to take. And at the end of it all there was still no guarantee of success. Back in the beginning, some of the less skilled blood monkeys had reported failure rates of over 40%. Not that this had dissuaded people. And now here he was, only a few days within making his appointment, first being brought to the operating table, now lying down on the operating table, now having tubes inserted into him on the operating table, now breathing in the gas on the

Now waking up on the operating table. Then a few more tests, a small fortune to be handed over electronically (when was the last time he had actually seen money?) and that was that. He gave Dr Franklin another handshake, firmer this time, and went on home.
Douglas had lived in the same apartment for over 80 years now. It felt stale, even through it had the very best air recycling unit. Over time, he had owned enough possessions to fill it ten times over, but much had been given away. There was a whole library worth of books out there that used to be his. Current furnishings were much sparser.

He sat down on his thick, worn chair and retreated inwards, losing himself in the simple process of remembering.

It had been thanks to his parents that he was able to have his first replacement. When he was born they had asked for the stem cells in his umbilical cord to be saved. This wasn’t an entirely altruistic action on their part. His dad thought it could be used to help cure his own testicular cancer, perhaps even grow a whole new ball. But they had both died in a car accident before this plan could be carried out.

And so he had been left alone to grow while his cell line did the same. It wasn't all that arduous. His parents had been exceedingly wealthy, leaving him a very well cared for orphan. And eventually, his fathers’ investment had paid off. An accident while clay pigeon shooting had resulted in his hand had been blasted to smithereens. Rather than accept a prosthetic, he decided to have a replacement.

That had been the first, but far from the last. The body was a very treacherous thing indeed. Most parts of it were only good for 40 years or so. His heart had been replaced twice and he had gone through 5 livers, heavy drinker that he was. In fact practically every part of his body was a replacement. The only law against such procedures was no growth of brain tissue, and even that was scheduled for review. Beyond that you could have as many spare parts for yourself as you wanted, speedily grown and ready to replace what ailed you.

Yes, the Hayflick limit had well and truly been defeated. The process by which cells could only divide a set number of times was a moot point. The elixir of life was nothing more than a gooey clump of undifferentiated mass, waiting to be fashioned to your needs.

The reason he had so many replacements was simple. He didn't want to die. Douglas was no coward, but he saw no sense in letting death come to him if it could be avoided. Hence his many trips to the blood monkeys for refittings and tune ups.

Douglas stood up and stared deep into the mirror. He closed one lid and looked at himself through a teenager’s eye. He then swapped to the other and the world was viewed from a much older perspective. It had lived a long and unhealthy life he had led. So long. He had been to christenings and funerals of the same people. Friends passed like seasons. He didn't look old, but he certainly felt it. He didn't like to think about his age, but when he did he tried to calculate an average from all the different parts. Given today's operation then he had actually lost a few years.

He looked at the offending article. A second hand second hand he thought wryly. Was he still the same person that he was when he was born? Practically no part remained that he had been born with. Perhaps he had had his soul accidently replaced at some point as well. it wouldn't surprise him. All Douglas knew was that he would keep going on, refreshing his cells so they could keep dividing. Just like an immortal cancer.

There was a small noise. The mirror in front of him fell, the nail it hung from bent out of shape. Glass shattered on the ground. Douglas looked down at the pieces for a long time. Then he went out, came back with some glue, and patiently began to piece it back together in the wooden frame. When he was finished he looked at his handiwork. A criss cross face looked back.

The internet does it again

2009-10-02T05:43:00.000-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oyuoUwxCLMs

No, i've no idea why either

Accademic pandemic

2009-09-29T06:28:00.000-07:00

Back at uni. Back to paying unreasonable prices for books i'll only pretend to have read. Back to zoning out in lectures and bullshitting through workshops. Back to emailing excuses about late essays that are in fact, quite legitimate reasons

Still, at least i have that smug self superieor air that all 4th years affect. and as an added bonus, i have both wednesdays and fridays off. there is going to be some major party heartying let me assure you.

apparently all the hard work i've doing for my dissertation just aint good enough, so sayeth my supervisor. i, on the other hand, think that having a picture of a lego man in a duplo house perfectly highlights the themes of failing to connect.

thought of the day-how do you know when sour cream has gone off?

modern times make a clockwork mind

2009-09-17T06:25:00.001-07:00

I called up the taxman today, in the hopes that full time studentness would score me some cash back. He was very unhelpful and patronising, but the gist of it is that i'm earning too much mula annually (by a mere £200 or so) and so qualify as full time employed. BAH. TV said my university experience would be all about booze broads and zany antics. instead i spend more time working to go to uni than i actually spend there.

Had to temporarily pay council tax as well. That man was far more helpful, and assured me that i could claim it back at a later date, so least thats one thing to be thankful for.

its depressing when you wake up, go to work, finish, go to bed, then go to work. in the past 4 days i aint been anywhere else but bed and work. And i'm still poor!

but plans have been set in motion to make this haloween one of the very best ever, so free yourselfs up team, cause its gonna be sexy!

And I sure as hell don't know why this is saved on my hard drive

2009-09-07T06:26:00.001-07:00

I like ponies and rainbows and the colour pink
I like ponies and rainbows and the colour pink
I like ponies and rainbows and the colour pink
I like ponies and rainbows and the colour pink
I like ponies and rain I like ponies and rainbows and the colour pink
bows and the colour pink
I like ponies and rainbows and the colour pink
I like ponies and rainbows and the colour pink
I like ponies and rainbows and the colour pink

I'd forgotten i'd written this

2009-09-07T06:18:00.000-07:00

Breaking the 4th wall

“Hello”
“Hi”
“We’ve met before haven’t we?”
“Well we’re the only two people here, so I think it quite likely”
“Your name is John right?”
“Yes, and yours is Derek”
“Right”
“Right”
“Right?”
“Yes, there is a right. It’s right over there, to the right”
“My right or your right?”
“Mine”
“So the right is actually to the left?”
“I guess so…look can you just turn around so we’re facing the same way. That would be a lot simpler”
“Well why can’t you turn to face me?”
“Because I’m facing the right direction”
“I thought right was over there…or was that left?”
“Right, what I meant to say was I’m facing the correct direction, and if you did too then we would be happily unified in our perspective of direction, time and space”
“Well how do you know you’re facing the correct direction?”
“Look at the wall in front”
“My front or yours?”
“Oh, just look behind you”
“Ok”
“HA!”
“What?”
“Now you ARE facing the right direction”
“Sneaky bastard, I hope there’s a point to all this”
“Now we have the same view of the world, I shall explain this point”
“I hope that’s not innuendo”
“No, now look at the wall in front of you”
“Ok
“It’s different from all the others, isn’t it?
“Well, let me just turn around and see”
“You better not stay turned around”
“OK, OK. I see what you mean”
“Then explain why they are different”
“The other 3 walls are solid, thick and black, while the wall in front seems to be thin, white and almost transparent”
“Which I think, given its uniqueness, should call for it to be called the front”
“Ah, well I guess that makes sense. Kudos to you”
“Why thank you…Derek?”
“…Is that right?”
“No. That’s right over there”
“Ah, fair enough. But wait, if we’re surrounded by four walls, doesn’t that mean we’re trapped?”
“Blast, I hadn’t considered that”
“Maybe our oxygen is running out and we’re about to die. Maybe every breathe we take is just a sad recycling of every breathe we’ve ever given”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have farted then”
“Chances are you’ve only farted the same air that you breathed in anyway, so it’s kind of a moot point”
“Regardless, you’ve invigorated me to form a daring escape plan. I’ll be damned if I’m to spend eternity composing words from my mouth that are given voice by my anus”
“Very poetic”
“Just talking shit really. Now, it seems clear that we must break through one of those walls in order to be free”
“Ok”
“And it seems equally clear that those black walls seem impassable”
“Impenetrable”
“unbreachable”
“Unfathomable”
“Their black voids might stretch forever until they come back on themselves for all we know. The right side might just in fact be the very end of the left”
“Right”
“No left. And I think it safe to assume the same of floor and ceiling”
“What about the back?”
“Well maybe it does stretch to the front as the left and right and top and bottom do, but that’s a risk we’ll just have to take”
“So how do we break this 4th wall?”
“Well, it only seems paper thin. I guess we could just run through”
“That seems rash, we break all our bones”
“More likely to result in a paper cut actually”
“Don’t you hear noise on the other side though? Like teeth chattering or lots of tiny high heels walking across a plastic floor”
“Hmm…26 by the sound of things. Not counting punctuation, numbers and formatting. But fine, if you’re going to be such a coward about it, I’ll go myself and stick my head through so peruse. Or my name isn’t John”
“Isn’t it?”
“Right! Now forwards I go. Chaaaaaaaarge!”

BOOOSHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………?

“STOP RAPING ME WITH YOUR EYES!”

KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKCAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOBBBBBBBBBBB

“Well, what’s it like out there?”
“…..I don’t want to talk about it. I’d rather sit in here with my own odour as sustenance than risk breaking the 4th wall again”
“Did you notice it just healed up after you pulled your head back in?”
“Good! No more red veined lines assaulting the blue iris mote and breaching the black keep of the pupil!”
“I wonder, does that mean if you break through the 4th wall and stay there, that there is no coming back to this world? That once real there, you would cease to exit here, from now until infinity comes back on itself like the very walls around us?”
“Please. Just don’t. Break. The 4th. Wall

fuck WMG

2009-09-03T09:00:00.000-07:00

my holiday came and went, with the expected excess of boozing and spending. Now i'm poor and the plan is pretty much just work till uni starts (christ knows when that is) BUT far more importantly, i figured out yet another global conspiracy from too much time on the internet and daytime TV.

while i suggested earlier that the reason you got all those adverts asking you to send in old mobile phones for big bucks was to get them back cause they give you cancer, i reckon now its probably bigger than that. They just want you to buy all the shiney new phones instead, partly for unnessecary consumerism, but mainly cause all the new phones got hi tech tracking devices in em! (probably) its the exact same reason they want you to send in all your old gold. with no private indiduals owning any gold, it loses all its purchasing power and yet another form of currency is lost, bringing us all one step closer to a single world currency. which of course will be issued by a single world government, who will of course only issue it to those who stick to the rules. I think it only a slight exaggeration to say that in future we will see a direct inverse relationship between the number of different currencies out there, and the number of civil liberties we have. And yes i did get super bored and watched zietgiest again.

Thought of the day-am i the only one that thinks that there are people that actually get paid to go around posting negative comments on subversive youtube videos?

annorlexic disrexic (another potential band name)

2009-08-11T05:55:00.000-07:00

well, the ridiculously long summer holiday is fast heading to the finish, and i've ridiculously little to show for it. HOWEVER, I have decided to step up my game and can now recite 8 verses from memory of Billy Joes seminal "We didn't start the fire" Only another 7 left to memorise. Will i make it in time for the 1st blindfolded karyokee challenge of the student union??? Gripping stuff.

it is less than a week till my long overdue holiday from work, with only 20 more labourious hours rota'd in. And let me tell you that time has decided to make out with turtles, snails and any other lethargic animals it can get its lips around. Sunday limped for 12 hours and Yesterday positivly CRAWLED like a caitpillar for 13. it is no exageration to say that even the clock was to tired to caress the top numbers.

On the upside, foolish rotaing has given me an extra day off, so i can go back home and celebrate my good friend rosses 21st, and far more importantly my freedom from the mind forged manacles of work. in preperation i am doing my best to avoid booze till that happy day, where i will get drunker than a skunk who lost his wife in a tragic car accident. plus i can hit on both rosses MAW and his sister. there is literally no way that could end bad for me.

Thought of the day-lets be honest, we all secretly wanted dick dasterdardly to win at least once

I am not a number-merely a series of letters

2009-08-04T06:48:00.000-07:00

you know, i don't think i've been 100% healthy in about 5 years. i spend more of the year with a cold than without it and my body seems to see saw between shivers and sweats hourly. Then again i guess most people spend the majority of their life not being 100%. Probably we all hover in the mid 70's and 80's. Only monks and fitness gurus feel the best they can feel within any concistant time frame

In an unrealted thread of thought, am I the only one that is VERY suspcious of all those adverts and websites that offer to pay you for your old mobile phones. There is almost certainly some scam or plot going on there, maybe old phones never passed safetly tests so they're being called in to avoid lawsuits. or perhaps ear cells are being harvested to create clones, having carefully been culitvated and mutated by all that microwave radiation. Well they sure aint getting my phone! mainly cause i lost it (Although a call did reveal that it is now owned by a surely old man who is also called Robert)

I saw the last episode of cult hit series The Prisoner, and was dissapointed. And worried. I've a sneaky suspcion Lost will end in a similar manner, despite all those fan theories I checked and crossed referenced. It seems that absolutely no female lost fan like Kate, though i suspet thats out of polar bear prision sex jealousy.

thought of the day-I wonder if the queen likes coronation chicken

A factotum soul

2009-07-21T05:54:00.000-07:00

Full time work is OVER, and you'd think i'd be rolling in it. exept i'm not a billionair playboy that fights crime at night. turns out i play a RIDICULOUS amount of tax on my full time earnings, which with any luck can be claimed back from the man and his complex military industrial complex.

anyway, with the extra money i figured i'd buy myself a swanky suit. then we actually went suit shopping and i DIED of boredom so that plan was put on pause, whereupon i pushed A and had the bazuka car to his thing. i very much suspect the money will go where it always does-to my liver and kidneys and my being awesome in general. and novelty t shirts.

The big summer of reading could be going better. but it could also be going worst, so with any luck i won't have any unread books in my room-a pet hate of mine. i've noticeced a hell of a lot of stephen king in the charity shops actually. looks like the old dude is past it.

Typically now work is lessened so has the sun. Global warming is such a tease, but i guess we'll all get burning hot skin rashes soon enough. suits me fine anyway. makes places quieter and people less stir crazy. will also keep the orange walks down, which lets be honest have lost all real meaning and are just scummy piss ups.

was thinking about growing my hair long again, getting some ink on me and finally stepping up to the open mike with the band name of Fleshy circuits. if i even do one of those three things i will be a happy happy man.

Also have some holidays booked. west highland way keeps looking appealing to me. and i've never been that far north. then again i might exchange walking for wheels and go on some crazy road trip, with zany happenings.

Saw an ungrown man cry last week. It wasn't fun. have to meet the womans mother tommorrow (presumably a woman as well) will probably be hungover and look like shit, which lets face it i always do.

the bad boyfriend list

2009-07-21T05:40:00.000-07:00

Reasons why i am bad boyfriend

Mild alcoholism
refused admission to cinema while on date as result of above
occasionally smother girlfriends face with pillow
occasionally hide under bed and refuse to exit
force girlfriend to stand on my back (for chiaropractic reasons)
make suggestive comments about girlfriends sister
make suggestive comments about girlfriends brother
ate girlfriends xmas chocolates (gifted by me)
drank girlfriends birthday wine (gifted by me)
fell on girlfriend to cushion my own fall
occasionally hide small objects from girlfriend and pretend they never existed
grew beard and pretended it didn't exist
force girlfriend to make obscure video game references
disclose unnecessary information
named girlfriends boobs individually (lincoln and reginald)
wear girlfriends clothing (accidently)
use girlfreind as battering ram for clubs
make innappropriate pregancy jokes
make innappropriate gynacological jokes
force girlfriend to be big spoon
strangle girfriend while sleeping

Maybe it was a bad idea to put these all together in the same place....

I'm blogging. FACT!

2009-06-25T07:00:00.000-07:00

BLUURGH, full time work again. 30 hours in 3 days, plus it's busy busy busy with the good weather. And to add insult to injury, my title of "the handsome one" has been usurped by handsome paul! Damn him and his deep brown eyes, honey dew skin and flowing hair. Still, means the females tip bigger, so probably a financial win. Plus it turns out i am now on a dazzling 6 pound and hour. perhaps down to working bloody hard, but more likely to do with turning 21.

Passed exams, so i gues that means I'm now a BA. holding out till next year so i can be a BA hons.

the last few weeks have been down right abusive, what with me showing up to work pissed twice (no one notices a difference) and on one occasion drinking so much my tongue started bleeding. truly i am a role model foe young children everywhere. I blame bukowski. reading his shit just makes me want to drink. And take dark pleasure in my hangovers. no one hungover ever had to question their existence. And it is one way of sticking it to both the capitalists and communists.

I am also rediculously late to the trend, but have discovered Dr horribles sing along blog. and guess who'll be going as captain hammer this haloween. ME. FACT!

Every sentence can be made more awesome by putting the word fact at the end. FACT. Just picture yourself at the bar. "I'll have 3 jack daniels and coke FACT!"

quote of the YEAR-the ankles are like the knees of the feet

crazy times

2009-06-15T07:56:00.000-07:00

i showed up drunk at work the other day, still running merry on the fumes from last night. i know i looked drunk and certainly acted drunk, declaring loudly about how work trys to keep a man down from his proper state of existence, and yet no one gave a shit. maybe its because half the other folks that work there do the exact same thing, or maybe its because they just expect it of me. what i do know is that the first 3 hours zoomed by, at which point i sobered up and the next 3 CRAWLED.

dave the rave came in. did a velma from scooby doo impression, and was EXTREMELY surely in the morning. but all in all a fun time was had by all. except my hat was stolen in camp arse. again.

then another night there was opperation gay, which was me trying to scam the homosexuals into buying me drinks by pretending to be one of them. i even wore a sailor hat (though surpisingly the gay bar was devoid of village people) cut a long story short a lot of men said a lot of nice things to me but by then i had gotten myself good and drunk and was makin sweet moves on my hoe. foshizzle.

thought of the day-isn't it a bit pointless to advertise HD tv on a normal tv?

summer to do list

2009-06-09T07:08:00.001-07:00

finish novel(a)
finish play
Learn all the words to we didn't start the fire
construct beer pong stadium
heal
get ass up to preforming standards with guitar
grow a thick mane of glorious hair
try and not offend anymore single mums (they hold a mean grudge!)
buy some clothes that fit
MAYBE suit up
be awesome

Whoops, just cross that last one off as already done!

alternative like a knee to the groin

2009-06-04T08:47:00.000-07:00

Feel I've been neglecting old Betsy here for a while, so time to post some new shit. watched the MTV Movie awards, and not surprised to see twlight getting an unfair amount of goldage. Vanessa Hudgens was PRETTY PO'd about missing out on best kiss as well. Also got THX 1138 for no other reason than it was £3. It's pretty lame, but after reading 1984 every single distopian novel or film seems lame in comparison. Betcha big bucks that Orwell had a time machine, and in fact that H.G Wells is just a very lazy psedonome he went by. Also read Kafka's the trial. Felt dumb for not following it well, then relieved when i learned it was never actually finished.

My 21st came and went. got a guitar (a fender no less) which means in my room there is now 4 guitars, a ukelele, a harmonica and a metronone. couple that with all the books, graphic novels and empty booze bottles I'd like to think someone would stroll in and say "my my, what a cool happening guy must live here." Providing they had no sense of smell of course.

I've started a vicious rumour that my girlfiend spikes all my food and drink with booze, knowing that it softens my adamantium heart and i become exponentially more affectionate while drunk. it's the sneakist excuse ever for mild alcoholism.

thought of the day-you'd think that hospices would be subject to frequent orgies. i mean what else is gonna happen if you stick a bunch of people together that are soon to die

Kidney hangover

2009-06-04T08:34:00.000-07:00

Everyone gets hangovers
but mine are kinda special
I don't get them in my head
I get them in my kidneys!

How can kidneys be hungover?
yet they twist and writhe and bite
like two horny snakes
trying to fuck

And everyone gives me advice
Drink water! Shower! Spew!
Eat fry ups! Run! Wank!
Pah, I do all those anyway

But no one offers me THEIR kidneys
all fully functioning
with perfect nephrons.
Damn those tight fisted bastards

stuff is happening

2009-05-14T07:03:00.000-07:00

I remember hearing once, that utopia and dystopia are the same thing. In a dystopian society there is no choice as eveything is chosen for you, while in a utopian soceity there is no need for choice, as everything is perfect. Point is be very wary of anyone that bangs on about utopia.

Apparently our university is being sold off in chunks, and every course that doesn't have "pracitcal applications" ie that isn't engineering, pharmacology, prosphetics (i hear we educate people to make great fake legs) is being stream lined. Like a turd. so it's a bad time indeed to be doing an english course. And i can only imagine the level of mocking when i graduate with a degree in creative writing. I know that language students have had to go to the other university in order to complete their course, as the language department has effectively been shown the door. and you should have seen the module selection thing for next years classes, was lame beyond lame. only thing that jumped out at me was childerens lit.

Star Trek was good, what with an alcoholic womanising kirk stealing the show. kinda ruined my captain pike piece though, and time travel is and forever will be lame. I'm getting a bit sick and tired of it as a plot device, and Lost lost some major respect points when it slipped that finger in. also romulans? who gives a shit about romulans. a cold evil vulcan would have been a far better antagonist

bah, exams are getting to me. seems the more you study the more you worry. I never stressed two weeks ago. on the plus i actually have a reason to learn about sir fancis bacon, who's name always captures my ravenous attention

A new low

2009-04-30T05:41:00.000-07:00

Well it seems old bobby boy has hit a new low in his life, and lets be honest a large portion of which has been spent closer to the ground than the sky. what was it this time, you zaney chap? I hear you cry. well it all started with the amazing idea to start drinking at 11am. Hardly crazy, considering it was the last day of class and all. But as always moderation failed me and those damn appltinis sure pack a whollap.

So, 6 hours later i remember i have a date to get to. tickets have been booked for the cinema and hugh jackman awaits (swoon) So i stagger on up and pretty much assult my girlfrined in a playful manner outside das kino. Unfortunatly times must be troubled as it turns out the cinema now employs door staff.
"Sorry, but you've had too much to drink. have a coffee and come back in an hour"
It took a while to sink in, but when i realised, i took it well. fair play to the gent, i was none too steady on my feet. however, my lady friend had to endure the SHAME of asking for a refund, and the reason had to be recorded on paper. Customers boyfriend was too intoxicated to be allowed entry. Now i know what you're all thinking-HOW AWESOME IS ROBERT. the answer-VERY!

no idea why but young miss DIDN'T kick the shit out of me later, mainly because i am a VERY affectionate drunk. its the only times i'll admit to having feelings.

Also, how many now adults do you think have been screwed up for having seen apparent"childrens" film watership down when they were kids.

ALSO my new thing is when peeing in close quaters at a urinial with other gentlemen (or women with funnley things) is to quote ghostbusters and say "don't cross the streams!" little side not, i've finlly sussed out my mini diesseration project angle. the title is-Technology and the supernatural-the machines of ghost busting. Finally got back my essay where i talked about g-strings as well. 57%! get it up you floss butts!

my rattle bag

2009-04-19T04:58:00.000-07:00

The Fruit Bowl

In the fruit bowl there are
Three yellow oranges.
Two wee kiwis.
A fermenting apple.
A honey dew melon-
crowned by the web
of a money spider.
Lots and lots of dust-
dead skin on fruit skin
A guilty onion
And....a goldfish
that doesn't remember
why it is there.

that shit aint legit

2009-04-11T09:04:00.000-07:00

Imagined conversation in Glasgow English lit- "And so, by examining architechture that was typical of the time of Charlote Bronte's Jane Eyer, we can see how one culturual medium-the design of rooms, has effected another, the instances of listening-hearing and eves dropping in Jane Eyer."

"I see how it effects the semantics, but what about the prominant liminal zones?"

Real conversation in strathclyde english lit-"J.K Rowling was clearing an anti-semite, as exemplfied by her characterisations of goblins as large nosed suspicious bankers that don't trust the burgious wizards"

"Shut up Robert"

Imagined conversationat in cally english lit- some people think shakespeare might have been gay...

You're gay!

...or even a woman

You're a woman! Woo lesbians!

doublethink

2009-04-05T09:08:00.000-07:00

Tried to watch 1984 on youtube just now, and of course the internet being the kind of place it is-parts of it were censored. IRONY

also, best youtube debate ever!

I disagree. It says in the bible that God is love, and as we all know, NOTHING is stronger than God!
robfisher1 (2 weeks ago)

Reply
what about a wrestler?
silk88 (2 weeks ago) Show Hide

Reply
You Ass. That wasn't even funny

robfisher1 (1 week ago) Show Hide

I dunno, some wrestlers are pretty strong...

shitty plot synopsis

2009-04-03T08:03:00.000-07:00

Jonathan Nightingale is an apathetic Ambulance driver that lives in Glasgow. When he is on call he takes naps in the morgue of the Royal Infirmary, as it is the only quiet part of the hospital. During one such moment, his pager goes off and he is called out. It is shown that he never turns his siren on because of the loud noise it makes. He arrives at the house very late because he gets stuck in traffic, and discovers an old woman on the floor with a broken arm, having fallen down the stairs. She berates him for being so late, but Jonathan remains unconcerned, and tells her that 80% of ambulance call outs are for non life endangering incidents, like hers. He loads the complaining women into the ambulance and drives off

When taking her details at the hospital he notes that she shares the same unusual surname as a girl he went to school with and had a crush on- Sarah Lamorte, and so waits around with the hope that she will show up to pick up her grandmother. Eventually she does and he greets her warmly. She thanks him for “saving” her grandmother and after some awkwardness he secures a date with Sarah.

During their date Jonathan reveals his past crush to Sarah and tells her that at school she was the only one that didn’t bully him. It is revealed that all the other children made fun of Jonathan and thought he was strange and “creepy” because his father was an undertaker. During his youth Jonathan would frequently see dead bodies and become comfortable in the sight of death. He tells Sarah that this was how he got his job as an ambulance driver, as he is not fazed by bodies. Sarah tells Jonathan that he is doing good work and is saving lives. Jonathan presses her for information about herself and she reluctantly tells him that she works in an abortion clinic. She tells him that it is the only well paid job she could get in short notice when her boyfriend left her and with their baby. Jonathan laughs at the irony of working in the abortion clinic so she can provide for her son, and Sarah awkwardly joins in.

Jonathan thinks the date is going well but at the end Sarah tells him that she only agreed to go because she felt grateful for him taking her mother to hospital. She asks him not to be upset, and Jonathan lies tells her he is not. She leaves him and when she is gone Jonathan breaks down into a deep depression.

Later, back at the hospital Jonathan is lying in the morgue again staring despondently into space. His pager goes off again and he reluctantly gets up to drive out to the source of trouble in a run down part of Glasgow. Here he finds a beggar, slowly dying in the street from a heart attack. The person who made the call, a well dressed business man is standing over him, and immediately leaves when Jonathan arrives; coldly explaining that he has a meeting in the morning. When Jonathan tries to question the man why he didn’t cover the beggar with his jacket, the man angrily tells him that both he and his jacket are more “important” than the beggar, and walks off.

Rather than help the beggar, Jonathan questions him, asking what his heart feels like right now and comparing it to the pain Jonathan feels in his own. The beggar dies before he can answer and Jonathan muses how much more peaceful he looks. He remembers how his father once told him that “despite the life they might live, all men find dignity in death” Jonathan gently folds the dead beggars’ arms and closes his eyes, then leaves.

Initially worried about getting in trouble, Jonathan soon realises that no one cares what happens to “unimportant” people, after he finds no significant news coverage of the beggars’ death in the news. During several other call outs to beggars Jonathan explains to them his newfound philosophy about death, and offers them a lethal amount of drugs in order to make their passing easier rather than continue their “wretched existence” As the beggars are frequently drunk or mentally disabled, many of them accept Jonathans offer, and die with smiles on their faces as Jonathan comforts them and tells them not to be afraid. Jonathan also begins to spend all his nights in the morgue, sleeping with a slight smile on his face as well, with all the others he has “cured of life”

Some time after this, and still not having been caught, Jonathan gets a call to a house in the eastside of Glasgow, where he notes that life expectancy is the shortest. The address sounds familiar to him, and then he realises it’s where Sarah said she lived. Because he still has feelings for her, Jonathan drives recklessly there, even turning his siren on. Once he arrives he is greeted by a tearful but unharmed Sarah, who rushes him upstairs to her baby, who has possibly suffered cot death. In an emotional scene, Jonathan does all he can to save the baby, but is too late and can do nothing.

Sarah breaks down and wails with despair. She tells Jonathan that she hurts so much and that her grief feels like she is breaking in two from the inside out. She cradles the dead baby in her arm and refuses to let it go. Jonathan tries to comfort her, and slowly takes her downstairs to the ambulance. He tells her he can make her pain end if she wants him to, and she agrees. Jonathan administers a fatal dose of morphine and Sarah slowly falls asleep on the ambulance bed, baby still cradled in her arm. She dies quietly and Jonathan lies on the bed next to her, imagining a life where they were together and happy.

fisting the armgina's elbow clit

2009-04-03T07:53:00.000-07:00

Really hungover right now, was a to bed at 4am job last night. thats after the 3 mile walk between joes flat and mine. totally owned at drunk chess though, with the wronksie feint dominating all. And i spited the road closure at duke street and solid snaked my way under the fence. EXTREME. also me and stew play "THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND" where you randomly shout that at couples making out to scare the dudes-and possibll the chicks. be awesome to say it to lesbians. saw an urban fox as well, which i take as a sign of good luck.

Apparently i'm on holiday for 2 weeks, but don't much feel it. basically signed by soul to work for one of em-doing 50 hours. still money money money. gotta keep busy and all that. right when all the nice wheather starts as well. reckon my sexy sweat rash will come back-watch out ladies!

speaking of which, if my girlfriend hasn't gone done and bugger off home for 3 weeks. how dare she want to see her parents! totally gonna convert to mormonism when shes away-father coon and brother ashua have been urging me for weeks. Poligamy for all!

thought of the day-A man can spend his entire life thinking of his epitaph

Blinkers

2009-04-01T04:31:00.000-07:00

Mathew Murdock strode down the street, fully confident in both his progress and his destination. He stared straight ahead, eyes on the prize and no blinking. His focus was so great that he failed entirely to notice the man and the boy coming in from the side, until they were both right upon him. He was not surprised by their appearance however. His peripheral vision often failed him, though it was not something he would give a moments thought to. Anyway, he had been expecting to meet the man that now stood in front of him. They shared the same destination after all.

“Hello Issac” Mathew said, greeting the man warmly and shaking his hand. “Looking forward to the vote?”
The man, who allowed his hand to be shaken, laughed dryly. “Looking forward? No, not really. But at least there are other choices available to me”
“Now now Isaac,” said Mathew, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “You’ve known for some weeks now that this has been coming. And about time to if you ask me. It really is indecent that a certain type of man is to be excluded from holding public office”
“And I see, quite clearly in fact, that the certain type of man you are referring to is of course yourself” Isaac replied.
“Indeed” said Mathew. “I’ve made little secret of it”
“An enemy in plain sight” muttered Isaac.
“Ha yes very good. But we live in a civilized age, and it is only fair that the disabled have equal access to the opportunity of serving the people as anyone else”

Mathew nodded to himself in agreement but Isaac stared at him incredulously. He gestured to the child, who had been standing patiently at his side, bright eyed and alert. “You remember my son Nathanael?”
Mathew nodded and beamed down at the child.
“Keep watching him then” Isaac told him. Mathew obliged and looked on. He saw Isaac giving a sandwich to the boy. He saw Issac whispering something in his ear and the boy nod. And he saw the boy stride away to a vague harmless looking shape. The rest was indistinct, until the boy returned, empty handed.
“What just happened?” demanded Isaac.
“I don’t know” confessed Mathew. “Nothing important I’m sure”
“Well, I guess that’s just your point of view. Not that I expect you to be troubled by it, self maimed as you are”

“Nope” Mathew said happily. “However, there is something I wanted to say to you” He put his arm around Isaac and drew him away from Nathanael. “Listen,” he said in a confiding tone. “I don’t want to tell you how to raise your son, but don’t you think you’re being cruel? I mean it’s important to protect our children and…”
“Lie to them?” cut in Isaac.
“We think nothing of telling them there’s a large red man coming down the chimney once a year to give them presents. Anyway, if you continue being the kind of parent you are, and letting your son be like that…well I can’t in good conscience allow him to play with my kid. Nathanael’s already upset him several times, and when he comes crying to me and asking why he can’t see what your son does, I have to answer some very awkward questions”

He looked at Isaac beseechingly, and said in an even lower voice “If it’s a question of money…”

Isaac sneered at him “I hear the fashion is now to get Blinkers installed right after the umbilical cord is cut”
“Well it’s certainly convenient, given that you’re right there in the hospital. And they do have a lifetime guarantee on them”
“I guess if you had them since birth, then you would never know of any other world, than the narrow, grey around the edges one that you see in front of you”
“Looking nowhere but ahead means you get there quicker. You’ve seen the great work I’ve done, and how efficient I am about it. I have helped a great number of people, there’s no denying it”
“Only those whom you see eye to eye with”

Mathew finally lost his patience “Look, live your life staring into the shadows and loosing your self in them, but I intend to walk the path of the straight and narrow. And let me tell you, once I take your job, I will have child protection services onto you. It is cruel to let Nathanael see the world as you see it, and we will get him a set of permanent blinkers, like me. And all the pain and suffering that you’ve made him bear witness to, it will all become nothing but a glimmer at the edge of sight. Then we shall see what’s what”

Turing stiffly, he strode down the road towards public office, where the vote would be held. Shaking his head, Isaac walked besides him, though of course Mathew could not see this.

Walking some slight distance behind, Nathanael brought up the rear. When he passed another small wavering shadow, he gave it a little doll he had been given for Christmas but thought too girly for himself. He had heard little of the conversation, and instead had been thinking about the silly thing his gran had told him earlier that day. It made no sense, how could he have his fathers’ eyes?

Weird Dreamscapes

2009-03-26T07:49:00.000-07:00

The small girls ran across the red barren fields of mars, struggling to breathe and in such much pain. Above them unseen satellites traced their movement, waiting to strike them down with angry red light. Bu the girls were smart. Every 50 yards or so they threw small pieces of white bread as far forward as they could, where upon the single sparrows that each had nestled into her hair would eagerly take flight to it. As they flew, all the dumb pigeons that had clawed purchase wherever they could on the girls dresses and skin fluttered off to follow, going high in the air. It was this interference that had so far stopped the satellites from firing. Once all the bread was gone the birds would fly back, claw holds and draw blood from the girls and the whole thing would repeat itself. But the girls were fast running out of both breath and bread. It wouldn’t be long now.

Analize THAT SHIT Freud!

like a bobo outta hell

2009-03-23T08:59:00.000-07:00

I peaked on saturday. I said the smartest best most awesome thing i will ever say, and only a few people were around to appreciate it. So lets cheat and use to internet so someone can tell me that i just photoshoped it from elsewhere. Anyhoo here goes. at a flat party several people were wearing kilts. Whilst taking to former flatmate ian i decided we should all play the game "guess what's in Ians sporran!"
"condoms" shouted one hopeful contestant
"Inconceiveable" I replied

..........bah, once again something that i thought was awesome is less so when it actually gets out of my head. In other news i thought it would be funny to send my mum a congratulations on your engagement card in place of a motherdays one. there is no way it'll come back to haunt me.

On st Patricks day I finally got hammered enough to fufil my secret ambition of singing meatloaf on empty orchestra. And I would do anything for love was the selection and lukewarm was the reception. But I made it all the way to the end, which just goes to show that guiness is thick enough to line your voicebox with a protecive layer so all them sharp notes don't rip you to shreds.

Writing contests coming up and confidence is like my steak-medium rare!

Shitty poem

2009-03-19T06:33:00.000-07:00

Snorting Pollen off the back of a Queen Bee

I think that
Butterflies are like….
Rockstars!

No wait
It’s not so stupid
If you think about it

After all
They live fast
And die young

Spend their time
Boozing and
Drink Driving

It’s not very responsible
Nor is all their
Casual sex

Sex and booze
Fly away, die
What a life

Sometimes I think
I am like that
But I’m not

I’m just a big hairy
Caterpillar, too lazy
To Transform

Watchmen Review

2009-03-09T05:25:00.000-07:00

I don't really like going to the cinema much, the more you go the less of a big deal it is, so I try and make a point of only going to see films that I think are silver screen worthy. And the latest film to which i felt merrited a visit to the land of sticky floors and closed doors was Watchmen. Being a huge fan of the novel I went with the assumption that it would never measure up.

It certainly didn't, but nor did he reveal itself to be disapointingly endowed. some things were done very well indeed. It's descion to be an 18 was a smart one. Action scenes were brually well coreographed and it didn't shun away from the darker aspects of the novel-though seeing a big blue cock every 5 mins was a bit off putting. It was also smart in its cutting of plot conrers to save time-any longer and the film would have outstayed its welcome. And personally i think its intro montage was one of the best i've ever seen. over all the aesthetic look was buffed to a mirrior shine.

Bad points-sometimes it seemed too concerned with sticking EXACTLY to the novel, dialogue was occasionally strained and scenes held long to the point of awkwardness. the soundtrack was hit and miss-sometimes perfect but mainly innapropriate and failed to work.

But what makes watchmen the novel great is the characters-so how did they transfer from page to film

Doc Manhatten was great-his detached sad and lonely presence was conveyed excellently. only flaw was a few of his choicier lines were cut
The commedian was good enough-far too old in his flashback scenes but can't really be blamed for that. again a victim of forced dialogue
Ozymandias-Another great portrayal-smart, suave with just the right amount of moral ambiguity
Nite Owl 2-boring in the novel-boring in the film-can't complain really. apparently has a huge arse according to my girlfriend
silk specter-just there to look hot really. her plot twist wasn't very twisty
and most importantly of all, Roarschark-arguably the main charcter and my biggest dissapointment. he just wasn't butt ugly enough-in appearance and deeds. needed to be more deadpan and emmotionally dead. fighting scenes weren't vicious enough-looked kinda stupid doing kung foo kicks rather than stabbing with forks. and his voice...bah he sounded EXACTLY like batman in the dark knight. too many humerous associations to work. Now he certainly wasn't auful, but he could have been sooooo much better
Oh yeah-Nixon was cool

In summary-Watchmen flirts with awesomeness, buys her plently drinks but never really suceeds in getting her pants off and sealing the deal. Bob gives it 4 outta 5 thumbs up

I'm sorry Paxman, I'm too hungover to answer the question

2009-03-05T05:04:00.001-08:00

I've been having problems reading. or more accurately finishing. started loads of books, read none to the end. Still, as long as you can blag your way through the tutorial I guess. But it makes me feel kinda bad. Think I've gotten too attached to the short story narrative-damn you Chekov
and JJ's Dubliners. Though what with St patricks coming soon i should probably be adopting a more pro Irish stance

Been taking some super vitamin mineral supplement thingies lately-a product of me being struck down with illness a week ago, and ashamed to say ive been noticing a difference. Kinda gets me down that I need pills to keep me functioning well, if only i could be arsed maintaing a healthy nutritious diet.

Apparently we're gonna learn about dildos in class next week, maybe bang on about female emmancipation and how technology always gets utilised for pleasure. Maybe I could go on about how lilith got chucked outta Eden cause she always wanted to be on top. God hates women because of the chafe factor.

Thought of the day-University challenge is the least beleiveable program in existence-Do you really think those on it represent your average student.

realised recovery

2009-02-25T09:22:00.000-08:00

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.

Rob K-Ace attourney

2009-02-19T05:38:00.000-08:00

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!"

conquering the word count

2009-02-19T05:34:00.000-08:00

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.

Projection Machinations

2009-02-17T08:37:00.000-08:00

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.

You're so crazy...

2009-02-12T05:30:00.000-08:00

...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

Night and Day

2009-02-10T05:48:00.000-08:00

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

Bullshitting for the win

2009-02-10T05:45:00.000-08:00

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.

Romance, Nazi's and eye-patches

2009-02-04T04:27:00.001-08:00

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

The End

2009-01-22T09:30:00.000-08:00

Not this blog (though it seems in right now to jump ship with your blogging) but of a series of unfortunate events! Finally finished them all and feel slightly richer for the experience. Of course they did exactly what the Dark tower did-start off strong, get crap in the middle, promise to deliver so much at the end but ultimatly fail to. Like your sex life? Maybe!

They do however agree with me on a number of levels-ie that knowing everything is next to impossible and all you can hope to do are small victories of good, and also that you should ultimately make judgements yourself, rather than letting anyone else-including papers. Wait till the readers Of the Daily Punctillo see that! Interesting how religion gets slammed in the last book, didn't think that would be a target. opiates anyone?

Tune in next week to see my social-political examining of Naruto (clue:tailed beasts=nukes)

thought of the day-the more i work at the gay bar, the more i suspect that men just want somewhere to shove it, and women just want something to fill it. Everything else is conditioning

A teaser

2009-01-22T07:44:00.000-08:00

That will ultimately dissapoint

It had been days since he had slept, maybe weeks. Time didn’t mean much anymore. Nothing meant much anymore. How did nihilists get up in the morning? This city was empty, just like all the other villages and towns were empty. Vacant in the day and hollow in the night. That wasn’t how the films all said it would be. Stephen would almost welcome the discovery that zombies or vampires were gathered round campfires telling the story of The Tanned One. Little fleshless children shivering in fear over his sinister ability to absorb vitamin D from the sun. Didn’t that make him a star vampire? By that logic Earth was just one big mosquito circling its prey.

Yep, the sun had baked him brown all right, what with all his travelling. He was pretty half baked himself, and took another drag as he drawed his ass up the stairs. The view from the top would be sweet and he could say goodbye to Mr Sun, maybe apologise for sucking so much.

He made it to the top and stood at the edge, staring into the abyss. Nothing started back. There was no way he could win a staring contest with Nothing.

Minamalist Fiction

2009-01-20T08:16:00.000-08:00

How the Mighty Have Fallen

By Robert W Kilgour

George and his girlfriend were walking down the road. George slipped and landed on his back, unconcious. His girl dutifully called an ambulance. When George came to, he was in an ambulance with a paramedic leaning over him.

"How the hell did that happen!" George exclaimed, as indicated by the exclamation mark after his dialogue. Given it was a question as well, then perhaps a question mark should have followed.

"You slipped on some urban fox shit sir" the paramedic replied

"Damn those urban foxes!"

"I supported the hunting ban myself" said the paramedic conversationally. "Now can you tell me your name?"

"Geroge Mighty"

"Thank you"

George later died of complications.

fin

Thought of the day-There's not a single student that hasn't been tempted to submit an essay in comic sans font

sex and the psycho

2009-01-19T04:16:00.000-08:00

Now despite the overwhelming evidence, lets not jump to any conclusions about my masculinity here, but I have started watching sex and the city. After all, aparently it covers everything, not that i wanted it too *shudder* And I guess i could justify it by saying it comes right on after south part and the effort to change chanels is too great.

So, while watching it, i realised a few things. Mr Big is a bastard! But an honest one at that, so it's Carries own fault. And, like my brother and kung foo karl, I am definetly a Miranda. However, the slightly more intresting point is that Sex and the city is a hell of a lot like american psycho, what with the cold detachment from love making, the obessions with fashion, style and image, as well as body parts. Indeed I don't think it would be too bold a statement to say that SATC is essentially the female equivalent of American Psycho. Women aren;t physically strong or as violent as men, so they emasculate them! Like that slightly kickass film Network says "Why is it that a woman always thinks that the most savage thing she can say to a man is to impugn his cocksmanship"

thought of the day-Only smart junkies get to pick how they feel

A really bad joke

2009-01-14T08:29:00.000-08:00

That I thought of all by myself

What do you call a failed gynocologist?

An abortionist

it sounded funnier when i hadn't totally thought of it...

Deep south

2009-01-13T05:11:00.000-08:00

And yet again a man has tried to force his intentions and his manhood upon me. But the circumstances this time are farrrrr more audacious. So in the club (the very fact i am in a club means i am ever so slightly tipsy) groovin with my buddy and grindin with my honey, when after returning from bar run i discover a young man dancing with girlfriend!

"It's ok, he's gay" i am assured by various people. BUT lets be honest, what man hasn't pretended to be gay so he can edge his way closer to unwary females. the ammount of romantic comedies depicting such notions is at least in double figures.

So i hatch upon a master plan. out gay him! what with my love of musicals and whimsicals it should be a cinch. cue sweet dance moves directed directly in his direction. UNFORTUNATLY, much like the time i played gay chicken with a gay dude, things didn't go so well. after witnessning such sweet moves, he asks my girlfriend if i am gay, to which she oh so helpfully replies "yeah, probably" Then, throwing decorum to the wind he goes all handsy on me, and goes south. deep south. all the way to lousiana and tries to shake hands with the Colonel.

I flee and I cry. it was not a finger lickin' good time

taking ass and kicking names

2008-12-29T13:45:00.000-08:00

Back home, being a damn good host and making sandwiches for guests whilst people have a jolly old time sucking at halo without me. Xmas came and went with the usual forced fanfair that it does in this household. we view it as something to be tollerated rather than enjoyed, like alternative art, or a really ugly hooker. BUT new years is fast approaching and that is where the action is a as far as I'm concerned.

In factoid, I was thinking about having a bit of shin diggery at xmas, and shall make feeble attempts to contact people who's company i only enjoy when under the influence (My mum feels the same way about me) Was surpised to have new years of work actually, certainly wouldn't mind the mula, double time double kill. Ended up applying for a student loan, despite atempts not to. on the plus i have more money in my account than any other family member. On the minus a grand total of £2200 needs to eventually be payed back. which sounds bad until you hear how bad other students suck with finance.

Wikipedia has fallen from grace lately, party because no tutor will respect it as a reference, and partly because of my discovery of conservipedia (the truthful encyclodpedia) Does anyone else in higher education suspect that the only reason lecturous lecturerers lecture is to hear all your good ideas (such as comparing corilanus to achilies) and then writing them in their own exciting dynamic papers

Epic Fail!

2008-12-22T08:33:00.000-08:00

Why why why why didn't i just listen to my mother and buy her perfume? who'd have thought buying for a young lady would be such a minefield. Striding around feminine shops looking at feminine things and feeling very very out of place. ah well done is done and you know what? they were damn nice slipper socks (with enhanced grip and enforced heels!) Am I joking about this? maybe, maybe not. I'm a terrible liar anyway, so i make up for it by lying compulsively. WOLF!

I saw twilight. A film based on a book written by a mormon about vampires, but really about the dangers of having pre marital relations. also has a lot of racial purity going on in it. For the highschool prom the black guy ends up with the black girl, the jock with the cheerleader, and that asin kid better not even think about asking anyone else than a nice chinise girl down the road. plus indians gotta stay on their reservation.

Also, i have concluded that God is in fact an atheist. Reasons? well to beleive in any god requires just that-belief. And certainty of something isn't really belief, its knowedge. and what is god? Omninicient-all knowing. when you know everything you can't believe in anything.

thought of the day-remember farscape? How GOOD was that. well until they got to earth at least

pretending pretensions mk2

2008-12-16T07:54:00.000-08:00

Once again for journalism. once again only pretending to have an opinion
When exactly is fully developed?

Few subjects have attracted as much controversy as the development of stem cell research. There are a huge number of issues surrounding it, be they political, religious ethical or medical. Although on the surface it may seem like essentially all the same issues that accompany abortion, i.e. pro lifers defending the rights of embryos, angrily declaring that they have all the rights of a normal human, the reality is far more complex.

The main problem is that the arguments rarely keep up with the technological breakthroughs that are being made. Few people have a well grounded understanding as to what stem cell research actually entails. The reason why Stem cell research is such a highly debated subject is the public perception of it. It is seen as creating life for the sole purpose of destroying it, subverting the natural order.

For understanding this, it is important that we understand what exactly a stem cell is. Stem cells are cells that can, with correct hormone signals and chemical stimulation can proliferate into any kind of cell. And in turn, an organ is a collection of one type of cell. So, in effect, stem cells can be grown into any part of a human body.

There are two main types of stem cell, adult and embryonic. Adult stem cells can be used to repair and maintain damaged tissues. Also like Embryonic stem cells they can differentiate into different cell types. However their ability to do this is limited, and often restricted to one type or line. By contrast Embryonic stem cells can differentiate into any cell line, giving them a far wider range of applications

Less controversial sources of stem cells can be located in an individual’s bone marrow, or umbilical cord blood. Problems do exist with these, few people wish to donate their bone marrow due to the great pain caused by its extraction, and only a relatively small quantity of cells can be extracted from umbilical cords and amniotic fluids. Scientists have also made limited progress in the reverse engineering of Embryonic stem cells from everyday normal somatic cells that are found within you and me. If they succeed then public opinion could swing rapidly. After all, almost no one criticises blood donning.

Religious qualms, particularly in the catholic faith, centre around the idea that man is trying to play god through such pursuits. Recently The Vatican's Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, which oversees Catholic Doctrine, issued "The Dignity of a Person" to help answer bioethical questions that have emerged in the two decades since its last such document was published.

The new document clearly and concisely states it’s condemnation of embryonic stem cell research and in vitro fertilization. Yet it does allow for some use of vaccines derived from stem cell lines and some forms of gene therapy. While a cynic like myself might wonder if this is to combat the so called “gay genes,” it does reflect the growing trend for gradual acceptance for such research.

Conversely though, Islam adopts a very different view. Sharî'ah law currently permits married couples to have in vitro fertilization provided the egg and sperm do not come from donors. Also, a distinction is made between “potential life” and “actual life,” namely that actual life begins at roughly 40 days of conception. Some experts, such as Dr. Muzammil H. Siddiqi claim that because of this, stem cell research is permissible within the Islamic faith. However, he also has views about its strict regulation. “The use of embryonic stem cells should be very heavily limited. Only allow isolation of stem cells from frozen embryos that were created for the purpose of in vitro fertilization and would otherwise have been destroyed. Obtain full consent from the donors. Provide safeguards against monetary compensation to embryo donors and against the creation of embryos in excess of what is required for in vitro fertilization”

One other issue surrounding stem cell research is that many see it as a precursor to human cloning. Research has already been conducted into creating embryonic stem cells via early developmental cloning and with Dolly the sheep we even had a live example of a successful cloning technique. Basically the point is that they have a cyclical effect upon each other, and that increased application of one will result in increased application of the other. It’s a side of the debate that rarely gets examined, but a hugely important one none the less.

We are told that the medical benefits of stem cell research are staggering, capable of curing seemingly every disease known to man, from cancer to hair loss. But is it really the miracle cure that we have been promised. Sceptics say that embryonic stem cells often have a high chance of being rejected by the host’s immune system, in the same way that organ transplants fail. But animal testing has given positive results, with dogs being effectively treated for brain tumours via the injection of adult stem cells. Though you may not realise it, there have already been several successful human applications of stem, cell research, such as bone marrow transplants.

In America there are a number of stem cell lines available, yet President Bush has repeatedly vetoed bills proposing the creation and funding of new lines and limited funding to existing lines. The E.U is heavily divided on the issue as well, with research being non permissible in a number of countries like Austria, Denmark, France and Germany.

Britain has had a slightly more comfortable history with stem cell research than America and other European countries. In 2002 The UK stem cell bank was founded at the National Institute for Biological Standards and Control (NIBSC) with the aim of housing and developing stem cell lines. NIBSC is a publicly-funded scientific organisation whose function is to assess the quality and safety of biological medicines such as vaccines and blood products.

Scotland itself now has its own base of stem cell research. The Centre for Regenerative Medicine (CRM), at the University of Edinburgh is one of the leading proponents in the research and application of stem cell research. Construction is
currently underway for a new centre of research in Little France. The £59M building has received substantial funding from the Scottish Executive and Scottish Enterprise. It would be a reasonable assumption to think that this will see further support by the Scottish executive of such research, as well as shifting international focus towards Scotland itself, though unsurprisingly Alex Salmond is keeping very quiet on the issue.

You may be interested to know that the vast majority of patents for human embryonic stem cell research belongs to just one organisation, the Wisconsin Alumni Research Foundation (WARF) And the interesting thing about WARF is that while they freely allow academic study of stem cell research, for any sort of commercial use there is a charge. Very recently though, the legality of their patenting has come under challenge, and should any legal dispute go badly for them, then we could see a rapid increase in the commercial use of stem cells.

In fact, if you want an example of a country that has successfully applied stem cell research then look to China. The majority of its stem cell lines have been harvested from the umbilical cord blood of live births, again sidestepping controversy. Treatments are readily available for such diseases as multiple Sclerosis and Parkinson’s, and many medical tourists enter the country to take advantage of this.

Like it or not, it seems further research into the field of both adult and embryonic stem cells is inevitable. Perhaps the ethical issues will neatly resolve themselves as different methods of acquiring stem cells are discovered, or maybe a very blurred line between right and wrong will come about. Only in the fullness of time will we see if the medical results cause any great social change.

The best Idea ever

2008-12-15T05:25:00.001-08:00

And i'm too lazy to do anything about it. Also, historically, different people tend to have the same great idea at roughly the same time. Hence all the debate about who invented what or discovered what.

Anyhoo, the best idea ever is an X-men/wolverine-Aliens cross over single shot graphic novel. Why such a great idea? Well with wolverines accelerated healing, you can have really awsome scenes where a chest burster blast right through him and he heals back up. hell make him stab himself in an effort to kill it while it's in him, only for the acid blood to melt through him. HOWEVER because aliens assume characteristics of their hosts, then this one has awesome healing too!

So there they are, both slicing each other apart and melting and regenerating when who should come in? No not wepon X! alien gets captured by canadian governentment and it too is grafted an adamantium skeleton. except Aliens of course have EXOSKELETONS!

I will make no money at all from my great idea. but remember where you saw it first!

Home

2008-12-15T05:22:00.000-08:00

Nuff said really

these ARE the droids you're looking for

2008-12-10T07:49:00.000-08:00

All you can eat at china buffet king followed by all you can drink at the pub turns out to leave you feeling pretty damn crap in the stomach department. Still, got my essay in today, only a mere day late and a mere 100 words short. made a few impressive points about how allegorical myth gave rise to the metaphysical poets, except that wasn't anything to do with the question. also learned about "Sprezzaturra" which is how i live my life.

Time for some relgion! Original sin was the first independant and wholly original act of mankind (save Adam getting to name everything-thereby cementing it's nature) and the eating of the fruit of knowelge was the first act of free will, so kudos to eve who kind of got the shit end of the stick when it all hit the fan. Though i will still rip the piss out of any feminist that blames me for the penis glass ceiling.

thought of the day-Why is it the bigger man that always has to bend his will (and back) to all the small people?

Remember this???

2008-12-09T05:35:00.000-08:00

over a year old, so be gentle...

Jim had drunk a lot, and thus needed a wizz sooooo bad. Hence he was not entirely observant of the sign that hung above the door. His friend Stewart, or stew the lying bastard as he was better known to his friends, had simply pointed him there and Jim had stupidly taken his word for it. He really should have known something was up when he saw that there were no stalls in the room, but the deadly combination of full bladder, weak bladder AND shy bladder prevented him from giving the problem his full attention. And now he was trapped, like a rat in a toilet cubicle in the women’s bathroom. Stuck Behind enemy lines, surrounded by hostile forces. No doubt feminists with scissors, knowing his luck. They had come in before he was done, laughing and talking about strange, womany concepts that scared him. Such things man was not meant to know.
Of course he could have simply walked out and explained the whole thing, but he had the misfortune of being nicknamed Jim the dirty pervert, for no other reason than he had 3 times walked in on his flat mate having sex. To be perfectly fair only 1 of those had been on purpose. His reputation would only be further cemented by this…misunderstanding, despite his best of intentions that all he wanted to do was siphon the python, with a 20% chance of hand washing afterwards.

Righto JimBob, aint no sense worrying about this problem. What we gotta do is solve it, with James Bond suaveness and Solid Snake sneakyness. Look around man, see what you have at your disposal? What would Magyver do?

Jim nodded to his internal monologue, which always seemed to be ahead of him. He scanned the cubicle for something, anything that could be used to help him out of this predicament. The toilet! Maybe a man could, with a bit of effort, squeeze himself down through the plumbing and swim his way to safety. Jim stared a long time down it, weighing his chances. He was about to try and stick his leg down it when he realized something vitally important. He had not yet flushed. Then something else struck him. The idea was stupid.

Bah, good plans are so hard to come up with when you’re incredibly drunk

Jim nodded bitterly in agreement. He resumed his scanning of his prison. What he really needed…was to look like a woman! Maybe, just maybe by stripping that toilet brush of its bristles for hair, constructing a dress out of toilet paper and using addition paper for cleavage…

Good, good. You’re on to something here, just a bit more…

“There” he muttered, after 10 minutes of cosmetic surgery. Unfortunately he had ran out of toilet paper at the final stages, so rather than being his preferred cup size of DD, he as a slightly more lop sided AC.

He looked over himself critically, thinking what a good job he had done. Had their actually been a mirror present he would have reconsidered this opinion. He braced himself for the coming challenge

Ok Jim, remember. Sway those hips, pout them lips, and for gods sake look graceful! Like 2 swans effortless mating upon the still frozen lake of early spring. Now…show time.

He opened the door and flounced out. Two young women, who had been touching up their makeup, glanced at him in mixed horror and bemusement.

“Hey girlfriends” he crooned, unable to resist abusing his brief gender swap. “Did you see that hunk out there called Jim? I dunno about you’s but I’d certainly give him one night to remember!”

He winked at them both and departed, amazed at his own ingenuity. Outside he found Stew.
“Hey man, them unisex toilets are pretty far out eh?” Strew told him “Girls and guys pissing together. It’s like we’re living in the future man! You’re covered in toilet paper by the way. Did someone jump you?”
Jim looked at him for a long, long time, before he finally said, “Shut up stud and buy me a drink”