
About Me
The phone is ringing
So I shall not linger
Look out butt
Here comes my finger
age: 34 (Jul 05, 1978)
MEMBER SINCE: September 2004
occupation: Boring yet appreciated
most humbling moment: That I will never be as cool as Sonny Chiba. Just ain't happening... a fucking pity.
fantasy: Sitting beside Ruud Gullit on a shed.
into: pacing around in a dark room, listening to heavy music while having a bloody good think.
stats: tall, gangly, scary in dark alley
makes me sad: Nothing. Negativity is transformed into furious resolve to never let the situation repeat itself.
Sup! Sup! Sup! Sup motherrrrrr.... no, there will be no profanity in this blog. I shall not allow it. It is wrong - just like capitalism but I must demonstrate how I've grown within myself and indeed, spiritually, in this long moralistic absence from the humble home of punky porn.
Wank! Spunk! Boobs! Tits! Bollocks! Feck! And balls!
Tssssch, and so it starts.
Sup! Sup! Sup! Sup motherfu..... no, still can't do it. If you want this particular greeting you're just going to have to go see Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans (like me but I saw it at the London Film Festival, a riot. Way better than those lesbians that sat in front of me and Mr Anderson at Cirque de Freak. I almost choked on my Haagen Daas. Or was it Ben and Jerry's. Whatever it was it was bloody expensive. Thankfully Mr Anderson paid. I should have repaid the debt by hooking us up with those lesbians. One will be straight again someday, mark my words. Instead I kept my yap shut, enjoyed the film and shunned them on the way out because I wanted to see Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans more than having an orgy with small lesbians and HAIL MR HERZOG it was the right thing to do. I like seeing old women threatened by Nic Cage and iguanas I do).
Jesus, that was a serious tangent.
Some kind soul took money out their account, wafted it at the victims of disasters through the world and bought me a three month subscription to here so I can pump out the above doggerel (seriously, the above is poetry. Question the grandkids to the Nth power. Me and Wilfred Owen are like that but the difference is he wound up in a trench and I ran into a trench, flashbanged some dude squatting behind a riot shield and stabbed the fecker to WIN in COD:MW2 and he died. Booooooyah! Dulce Et Decorum Est or something my tallywhacker, EH Wilf?!)
Christ, and again. Right, this calls for desperate measures.
[serioushat]
To the anonymous chap or lady or ladychap that chucked money to see me pump out more...
Wank! Spunk! Boobs! Tits! Bollocks! Feck! And balls!
Tssssch, and so it starts.
Sup! Sup! Sup! Sup motherfu..... no, still can't do it. If you want this particular greeting you're just going to have to go see Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans (like me but I saw it at the London Film Festival, a riot. Way better than those lesbians that sat in front of me and Mr Anderson at Cirque de Freak. I almost choked on my Haagen Daas. Or was it Ben and Jerry's. Whatever it was it was bloody expensive. Thankfully Mr Anderson paid. I should have repaid the debt by hooking us up with those lesbians. One will be straight again someday, mark my words. Instead I kept my yap shut, enjoyed the film and shunned them on the way out because I wanted to see Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans more than having an orgy with small lesbians and HAIL MR HERZOG it was the right thing to do. I like seeing old women threatened by Nic Cage and iguanas I do).
Jesus, that was a serious tangent.
Some kind soul took money out their account, wafted it at the victims of disasters through the world and bought me a three month subscription to here so I can pump out the above doggerel (seriously, the above is poetry. Question the grandkids to the Nth power. Me and Wilfred Owen are like that but the difference is he wound up in a trench and I ran into a trench, flashbanged some dude squatting behind a riot shield and stabbed the fecker to WIN in COD:MW2 and he died. Booooooyah! Dulce Et Decorum Est or something my tallywhacker, EH Wilf?!)
Christ, and again. Right, this calls for desperate measures.
[serioushat]
To the anonymous chap or lady or ladychap that chucked money to see me pump out more...

















_Pauly_