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.
Thursday, 24 February 2011
Wednesday, 23 February 2011
the day of a thousand posts
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?
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?
Monday, 31 January 2011
skit
"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."
"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."
Thursday, 20 January 2011
strangers taste the same as friends
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?
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?
Monday, 17 January 2011
Back in the saddle...
...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
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
Thursday, 23 September 2010
its happening to us all
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.
“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.
Thursday, 26 August 2010
cause I was too drunk to remember it last night
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
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
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