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 of this guff, I solemnly thank you. Is an honour. I hope you'll somehow get your money's worth.
[/serioushat]
According to that thing to my right it's been over 2 years since I blogged. Seriously. I wrote the first draft of a book I'm not going to redraft. I made a short film with me buddies and saw it on the big screen (or the Garrison's screen. Stop snickering. We're getting a new cinema soon. It's called the Mareel. Stop snickering.) In fact I'll insert it below.
Right, let's see if I can screw this up:
The proof comes when I press submit and lose the entry and get angry and call the site a 'shitbag'. In fact, I'll back this up the now. There we go. I feel relieved somewhat. Had the old fear come back there, the sense when you pump out something for the world to cock a snook or shake their head at and it can be lost into space at the click of the button. One eejit's mind poured into a blog lost like that. It's a bummer. Might be retroactively dignity saving. Who knows?
Right, suppose I should list my accomplishments in these life-altering 2 years!
1) Went to Wembley. Twice. Saw NFL. Food... sorry, slop overpriced. Travelled by boat. Boat sucks. Also saw many cool things in London including prostitutes and lesbians and the police laying down the law in Leicester Square (an overrated place I think). Saw many monkeys. Some had babies. None were being dirty. I put that down to the sun. Saw parrots that crapped on command. A talon brushed against my 5mm hair. Saw Kevin Spacey at the Old Vic. Almost got hit by a car outside the Old Vic (totally my fault, I rock).
2) Hmmmmmm... mentioned the writing and film. Bought Egg nunchucks. Bugger prefers his baseball bat. The nunchucks were bought to help his hand-eye coordination. The master in the book I got him said so. And he shuns them. WHY, EGG, WHY!!!!
3) Bought a 360. Blown up on me once already. Absolute C-Nut of a thing. And a new TV. And a new phone. And a new monitor. And loads (3) new Bears jerseys. And got a Facebook account (you can't blog right on there you know. Waaaaay too formal. Nifty place though.) And books. Heap of books. Most unread. So it goes. Reading one about Thomas Cromwell, a right dick. Oh yes, while I remember, George Osbourne is not a c*nt. He is many things but not that. He was in a dream of mine a a party conference. We drew cock over the projector. A good time was had by all. So because of that nobody is to refer to George Osbourne as a c*nt in my presence. You can call him a shit-eating Friedmanite goat-raper if you wish. But not a c*nt. No.
4) The Hindu Cow had a baby! Well, not him, his wife did. This is worth mentioning. As is the IRC. I'm stunned that I hadn't discovered that before. Such a tremendous support system. they were there when Marcus Hamilton screwed up against Atlanta allowing them to kick a FG in the last second to beat the Bears in 2008 (bastards!) A man Iranian got mad at me for not denouncing a racist and threatened to chop my legs off. Hours of fun. So is Omegle. Haven't got the stones for Chatroulette though.
5) Christ, now I'm clutching for something to validate my semi-fortunate situation in life over the last two years. Erm, some hardy soul paid good money to have me blog here again. That's life validating. In fact that justifies life itself. Bringing joy or something to someone and have them gift their hard-earned cash so I can write tosh and look at boobies.
Sweet Jews for Jesus there's a Suicidegirl called Rambo. This I must see. Feck me, look at the hour.
Lovely to be back. Sincerest thanks to the gifter who made this all possible. Reveal thyself, damn you! I must write an even more sincerer thanks and discuss SG Management's theories on why you rather spend money on me than feed a Haitian. I am sure the discussion will be nourishing. Tee-hee, I made a funny.
Okey dokey, let's wrap this rollercoaster of verbs and failure up. Take it away... the HEADS!
I like it when they do the fuh-fuh-fuh-fuh stuff. They want to say 'fuck' but they don't. They're so classy.
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 of this guff, I solemnly thank you. Is an honour. I hope you'll somehow get your money's worth.
[/serioushat]
According to that thing to my right it's been over 2 years since I blogged. Seriously. I wrote the first draft of a book I'm not going to redraft. I made a short film with me buddies and saw it on the big screen (or the Garrison's screen. Stop snickering. We're getting a new cinema soon. It's called the Mareel. Stop snickering.) In fact I'll insert it below.
Right, let's see if I can screw this up:
The proof comes when I press submit and lose the entry and get angry and call the site a 'shitbag'. In fact, I'll back this up the now. There we go. I feel relieved somewhat. Had the old fear come back there, the sense when you pump out something for the world to cock a snook or shake their head at and it can be lost into space at the click of the button. One eejit's mind poured into a blog lost like that. It's a bummer. Might be retroactively dignity saving. Who knows?
Right, suppose I should list my accomplishments in these life-altering 2 years!
1) Went to Wembley. Twice. Saw NFL. Food... sorry, slop overpriced. Travelled by boat. Boat sucks. Also saw many cool things in London including prostitutes and lesbians and the police laying down the law in Leicester Square (an overrated place I think). Saw many monkeys. Some had babies. None were being dirty. I put that down to the sun. Saw parrots that crapped on command. A talon brushed against my 5mm hair. Saw Kevin Spacey at the Old Vic. Almost got hit by a car outside the Old Vic (totally my fault, I rock).
2) Hmmmmmm... mentioned the writing and film. Bought Egg nunchucks. Bugger prefers his baseball bat. The nunchucks were bought to help his hand-eye coordination. The master in the book I got him said so. And he shuns them. WHY, EGG, WHY!!!!
3) Bought a 360. Blown up on me once already. Absolute C-Nut of a thing. And a new TV. And a new phone. And a new monitor. And loads (3) new Bears jerseys. And got a Facebook account (you can't blog right on there you know. Waaaaay too formal. Nifty place though.) And books. Heap of books. Most unread. So it goes. Reading one about Thomas Cromwell, a right dick. Oh yes, while I remember, George Osbourne is not a c*nt. He is many things but not that. He was in a dream of mine a a party conference. We drew cock over the projector. A good time was had by all. So because of that nobody is to refer to George Osbourne as a c*nt in my presence. You can call him a shit-eating Friedmanite goat-raper if you wish. But not a c*nt. No.
4) The Hindu Cow had a baby! Well, not him, his wife did. This is worth mentioning. As is the IRC. I'm stunned that I hadn't discovered that before. Such a tremendous support system. they were there when Marcus Hamilton screwed up against Atlanta allowing them to kick a FG in the last second to beat the Bears in 2008 (bastards!) A man Iranian got mad at me for not denouncing a racist and threatened to chop my legs off. Hours of fun. So is Omegle. Haven't got the stones for Chatroulette though.
5) Christ, now I'm clutching for something to validate my semi-fortunate situation in life over the last two years. Erm, some hardy soul paid good money to have me blog here again. That's life validating. In fact that justifies life itself. Bringing joy or something to someone and have them gift their hard-earned cash so I can write tosh and look at boobies.
Sweet Jews for Jesus there's a Suicidegirl called Rambo. This I must see. Feck me, look at the hour.
Lovely to be back. Sincerest thanks to the gifter who made this all possible. Reveal thyself, damn you! I must write an even more sincerer thanks and discuss SG Management's theories on why you rather spend money on me than feed a Haitian. I am sure the discussion will be nourishing. Tee-hee, I made a funny.
Okey dokey, let's wrap this rollercoaster of verbs and failure up. Take it away... the HEADS!
I like it when they do the fuh-fuh-fuh-fuh stuff. They want to say 'fuck' but they don't. They're so classy.
I divorce myself from the PS2, NFL, literature and world of Seagal DVD's to bring thou this:
Artists & Paxman:
Paxman & BBC3:
& Ninjas:
SHAKANINJA!
Artists & Paxman:
Paxman & BBC3:
& Ninjas:
SHAKANINJA!
I had this great dream the other night.
I'm in bed with this beautiful woman and she says she'll give the the monster screw of my life if I stop laughing at the word 'peck'. Which I can't do. She tries to make me stop but fails. She leaves and I'm still laughing at the word 'peck'. It was a great dream.
Then last night I was part of this Power Rangers type crew chiefed by Steven Seagal saving this wee village from these hulking Shadow of the Colossus type monsters and the members of the local vicarage keeps trying to make us leave but Seagal punches the vicar in the cock and they go away. It too was a great dream.
Dreams rules. I say if you spend a third of your life sleeping one owes it to oneself to ensure they have grand dreams. Otherwise that's a third of life wasted which is not gnarly by any standard.
Slinging phonebooks again, which ruled. Old people kept trying to speak to me which was kinda cool but also annoying as time is precious dammit. None of them left a crap outside their door which was a relief. I've worked in a place where an old woman did leave a crap outside the door. I reported it and used the word faeces without humour- a true sign of maturity by my standards. Love to have known the though process of fishing a turd out the ass and plunking it smack dab outside a door. What was the goal? I'll never know because the old woman in question is mad as colon-cased hamster.
NHL '94 and Guitar Hero 3 are awesome games. Any game that pried me from FF12 needed to be awesome. NHL 94 should be a classic but for some reason they TOOK OUT THE FIGHTING.Dicks. Guitar Hero is frigging hard though. Thought to myself 'right, fuck this easy bollocks, easy's only for Onimusha 2 when I couldn't beat Gogandantess after 2 hours. I'm going medium'. 12% into Slow Ride I went down to easy. I was not ashamed.
Quality Street and Werthers' Originals have new names round these parts. Two words. 2nd word in both are pellets. Shan't say the first words of each but both begin with P and it isn't 'poofs.'
I'm always thinking I can turn these blogs into something epical when I think about them but when it comes to the actual writing I haven't the worth and wherewithal to make it happen. Kinda like a eunuch at an orgy.
And on that tasteless unseasonal note I'll wish anyone who reaches this far a Merry Xmas and a stonking New Year.
Take it away..... FROGS OF THE POND...
... and Scouser (and big ups to Rupert for finding these frogs. I knew the dude had skills.)
I'm in bed with this beautiful woman and she says she'll give the the monster screw of my life if I stop laughing at the word 'peck'. Which I can't do. She tries to make me stop but fails. She leaves and I'm still laughing at the word 'peck'. It was a great dream.
Then last night I was part of this Power Rangers type crew chiefed by Steven Seagal saving this wee village from these hulking Shadow of the Colossus type monsters and the members of the local vicarage keeps trying to make us leave but Seagal punches the vicar in the cock and they go away. It too was a great dream.
Dreams rules. I say if you spend a third of your life sleeping one owes it to oneself to ensure they have grand dreams. Otherwise that's a third of life wasted which is not gnarly by any standard.
Slinging phonebooks again, which ruled. Old people kept trying to speak to me which was kinda cool but also annoying as time is precious dammit. None of them left a crap outside their door which was a relief. I've worked in a place where an old woman did leave a crap outside the door. I reported it and used the word faeces without humour- a true sign of maturity by my standards. Love to have known the though process of fishing a turd out the ass and plunking it smack dab outside a door. What was the goal? I'll never know because the old woman in question is mad as colon-cased hamster.
NHL '94 and Guitar Hero 3 are awesome games. Any game that pried me from FF12 needed to be awesome. NHL 94 should be a classic but for some reason they TOOK OUT THE FIGHTING.Dicks. Guitar Hero is frigging hard though. Thought to myself 'right, fuck this easy bollocks, easy's only for Onimusha 2 when I couldn't beat Gogandantess after 2 hours. I'm going medium'. 12% into Slow Ride I went down to easy. I was not ashamed.
Quality Street and Werthers' Originals have new names round these parts. Two words. 2nd word in both are pellets. Shan't say the first words of each but both begin with P and it isn't 'poofs.'
I'm always thinking I can turn these blogs into something epical when I think about them but when it comes to the actual writing I haven't the worth and wherewithal to make it happen. Kinda like a eunuch at an orgy.
And on that tasteless unseasonal note I'll wish anyone who reaches this far a Merry Xmas and a stonking New Year.
Take it away..... FROGS OF THE POND...
... and Scouser (and big ups to Rupert for finding these frogs. I knew the dude had skills.)
The phrase "...you are not children" should never be used at a wedding.
That phrase is the biggest "Well, DUH!" phrase as far as marriage goes for the simple fact that there are laws to prevent children getting married! Also causing a certain guest to almost break down in laughter and cast a cloud of disgrace at the ceremony is another reason not to use that phrase. The stupidity of it is indefensible.
Dang, I was going to parody the AICN whenever they break a Godzilla story but the pictures of me in suit are on Egg's machine and guess who's off the network at the moment. Tsk.
What's everyone doing next summer? Me? I don't know but what is for sure is that my interest in Euro 2008 will be casual. Scotland get screwed out of qualifying so I can't cheer for them. England messed up big time last night so I can't root against them either so it's going to suck. USA 1994 sucked. Austria/Switzerland 2008 will also suck. Boooo.
Seeing it's Thanksgiving in America (and Thursday in the UK) I'm thankful for the following things:
1: Being name-checked in the Steven Seagal book Seagalogy.
2: About Seagal being called a 'Poophole'
3: Winning a game of Guess Who using the ultimate questions
4: This cup of tea
5: Fingers
6: Er...
7: That's it
Blast, damn employment clashing with time. Damn it all. Take it away... moody 80's punk.
This song is way more relevant today than back then
That phrase is the biggest "Well, DUH!" phrase as far as marriage goes for the simple fact that there are laws to prevent children getting married! Also causing a certain guest to almost break down in laughter and cast a cloud of disgrace at the ceremony is another reason not to use that phrase. The stupidity of it is indefensible.
Dang, I was going to parody the AICN whenever they break a Godzilla story but the pictures of me in suit are on Egg's machine and guess who's off the network at the moment. Tsk.
What's everyone doing next summer? Me? I don't know but what is for sure is that my interest in Euro 2008 will be casual. Scotland get screwed out of qualifying so I can't cheer for them. England messed up big time last night so I can't root against them either so it's going to suck. USA 1994 sucked. Austria/Switzerland 2008 will also suck. Boooo.
Seeing it's Thanksgiving in America (and Thursday in the UK) I'm thankful for the following things:
1: Being name-checked in the Steven Seagal book Seagalogy.
2: About Seagal being called a 'Poophole'
3: Winning a game of Guess Who using the ultimate questions
4: This cup of tea
5: Fingers
6: Er...
7: That's it
Blast, damn employment clashing with time. Damn it all. Take it away... moody 80's punk.
This song is way more relevant today than back then
29 years I dodged the suit bullet. No funerals to attend, no proper weddings to attend. Nothing, nada, zero. Only had one job interview that I needed to look smart for (and I still wore jeans for that one - didn't get the job. Working for a bank, not exactly the ideal transition from supermarket work. Still had to deal with the low form of scum called 'customers' but this time it was over money instead of canned asparagus soup -- I still remember that -- I acted towards the jerk asking the soup in an angry manner, his attitude immediately softened.)
But anyway, yesterday I bit the bullet and invested in one. Looks kinda cool. Bought it locally for a dashed reasonable price, by gum. I'm obsessed with the price of things up here, don't like getting ripped off. (I get that from pater) Anyways, I bought a suit. Got a wedding to attend on Monday and something in my waters tells me I'll be attending a fair few of them & funerals too in the near future. I'm likely wrong of course, my waters told me to wager money on the Bears this season. I blame global warming.
I've been pissing around, watching classic wrestling clips on Youtube (Mean Gene swearing at Summerslam 1989 =
) and doing nothing of any great consequence, as has been my woad. I blog now since I have the time, something of mild personal importance to blog about and to try and expunge the meaningless XBox360 vs PS3 debate from my mind.
It doesn't work. Xmas is coming. I'm determined to wake up Xmas morning and open a present that contains a game that will swallow the morning up, nuts and all. Yet every fecking game I want for the PS2 I can't get. I got the last the bigguns for my B-Day. There's nothing left. Developers have moved next gen. One should move to but to where. The loyalties to Sony say PS3. The gamer in me says XBox360. The wallet says XBox360. My quality control faculties say Sony. They conflict and my me queasy and a touch too easy.
Arr, if only if I could move things with my mind this whole debate would be redundant. Looking outside, making sexy women's clothes fall off and seeing everything before they can cover up makes everything redundant. Except of course the basic necessities for survival, can never down that.
Because my phone has this uncanny ability to take itself off keylock I've lost £5 and annoyed numerous friend with weird phone calls and surfs to Vodaphone live.
Gosh this site is slow today. Can't even blame the Internet folks for downloading the new episode of Pure Pwnage since those mothercanuckers haven't released it yet. Could blame it for people rushing to buy Scott Pilgrim books because that series is fecking great. It's about this dude who has to fight his new girlfriend's seven evil ex-boyfriends. It's fecking great because it's simple in its simplicity. I recommend reading it while listening to Huey Lewis and the News because I like them too. In fact... takie it away HUEY!
XBOX360... PS3... XBOX360...
But anyway, yesterday I bit the bullet and invested in one. Looks kinda cool. Bought it locally for a dashed reasonable price, by gum. I'm obsessed with the price of things up here, don't like getting ripped off. (I get that from pater) Anyways, I bought a suit. Got a wedding to attend on Monday and something in my waters tells me I'll be attending a fair few of them & funerals too in the near future. I'm likely wrong of course, my waters told me to wager money on the Bears this season. I blame global warming.
I've been pissing around, watching classic wrestling clips on Youtube (Mean Gene swearing at Summerslam 1989 =
) and doing nothing of any great consequence, as has been my woad. I blog now since I have the time, something of mild personal importance to blog about and to try and expunge the meaningless XBox360 vs PS3 debate from my mind.It doesn't work. Xmas is coming. I'm determined to wake up Xmas morning and open a present that contains a game that will swallow the morning up, nuts and all. Yet every fecking game I want for the PS2 I can't get. I got the last the bigguns for my B-Day. There's nothing left. Developers have moved next gen. One should move to but to where. The loyalties to Sony say PS3. The gamer in me says XBox360. The wallet says XBox360. My quality control faculties say Sony. They conflict and my me queasy and a touch too easy.
Arr, if only if I could move things with my mind this whole debate would be redundant. Looking outside, making sexy women's clothes fall off and seeing everything before they can cover up makes everything redundant. Except of course the basic necessities for survival, can never down that.
Because my phone has this uncanny ability to take itself off keylock I've lost £5 and annoyed numerous friend with weird phone calls and surfs to Vodaphone live.
Gosh this site is slow today. Can't even blame the Internet folks for downloading the new episode of Pure Pwnage since those mothercanuckers haven't released it yet. Could blame it for people rushing to buy Scott Pilgrim books because that series is fecking great. It's about this dude who has to fight his new girlfriend's seven evil ex-boyfriends. It's fecking great because it's simple in its simplicity. I recommend reading it while listening to Huey Lewis and the News because I like them too. In fact... takie it away HUEY!
XBOX360... PS3... XBOX360...
Strange coincidence du jour:
1) The NFL season starts and my knee problems flare up and are in a lot of pain.
2) Rex Grossman starts the NFL season as Bears QB. My knees are in a lot of pain.
Yesterday: Lovie yanks Rex for Griese.
Yesterday: I can bend my knees without pain.
Coincidence? I think not. Maybe. There has to be something to it though, surely? I declare proof if my fantasy team wins Sunday. 0-3 so far - (I drafted S.Jackson, D.Brees & C. Benson with my first three picks thus continuing the tradition my three of the first four picks I make in these drafts going on to have supremely shitty seasons -(my 4th pick was the Bears D but [LORDSUMMERISLEIMPRESSION]They shall not fail![/LORDSUMMERISLEIMPRESSION] over the long term. They may this week, which is why I'm starting the Ravens D instead.) Ah, the world is a different kettle of VDs with the blinkers of homerism are tossed down the well.
Greatest thing I've done in a long time.
We're playing Guess Who - the MB board game.. Me and Egg versus the Hindu Cow. Our questions go like this.
1: Is your person right-wing? (answer: No. Half the board flips down)
2: Is your person a communist? (answer: No. Three pieces flip down.)
3: Would your person attend a performance of the Vagina Monologues? (answer: Yes. All but two pieces remain.)
4: Does she wear a hat? (Yes. Down goes one.)
5: Is it Maria? (Yes. Cue maniacal celebration. So awesome.)
Going with the PS3 as my next gen console. Won't get it until next year though (want rumble joypads & MGS4 & Final Fantasy 13). X-Box 360 is just too unreliable.
And the Wii... heh, heheheheheh... BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh sorry, don't knwo what happened there. Seriously the Wii has No More Heroes and that's it. I'm willing to lay money that Suda51's next opus will hit the PS3 eventually. Too much money floating out there for it not to. Then again given my recent betting record...
This site! is pretty cool. Documentaries fall out of it's backside. John Pilger's stuff is head and shoulders above anything else. Stealing a Nation is a must see. Never thought I'd see the day when a Labour government would act so callously towards an innocent people. It's incredible that nobody has been thrown into the dock of the Chagos incident. Abysmal.
Hands are cold now. That happens when you work outside for an age between paragraphs on a cold day. Amazing. It also takes a toll on the brain because the train of thought is lost and one really cannot think about what else he'd like to immortalise in cybertext.
Nope. Can't do it. Time to read. In tribute to the one game I'd thought I'd never play but have played and now need more joypads to play it with friends, take it away -- Reptiles!
CGI boo!
1) The NFL season starts and my knee problems flare up and are in a lot of pain.
2) Rex Grossman starts the NFL season as Bears QB. My knees are in a lot of pain.
Yesterday: Lovie yanks Rex for Griese.
Yesterday: I can bend my knees without pain.
Coincidence? I think not. Maybe. There has to be something to it though, surely? I declare proof if my fantasy team wins Sunday. 0-3 so far - (I drafted S.Jackson, D.Brees & C. Benson with my first three picks thus continuing the tradition my three of the first four picks I make in these drafts going on to have supremely shitty seasons -(my 4th pick was the Bears D but [LORDSUMMERISLEIMPRESSION]They shall not fail![/LORDSUMMERISLEIMPRESSION] over the long term. They may this week, which is why I'm starting the Ravens D instead.) Ah, the world is a different kettle of VDs with the blinkers of homerism are tossed down the well.
Greatest thing I've done in a long time.
We're playing Guess Who - the MB board game.. Me and Egg versus the Hindu Cow. Our questions go like this.
1: Is your person right-wing? (answer: No. Half the board flips down)
2: Is your person a communist? (answer: No. Three pieces flip down.)
3: Would your person attend a performance of the Vagina Monologues? (answer: Yes. All but two pieces remain.)
4: Does she wear a hat? (Yes. Down goes one.)
5: Is it Maria? (Yes. Cue maniacal celebration. So awesome.)
Going with the PS3 as my next gen console. Won't get it until next year though (want rumble joypads & MGS4 & Final Fantasy 13). X-Box 360 is just too unreliable.
And the Wii... heh, heheheheheh... BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh sorry, don't knwo what happened there. Seriously the Wii has No More Heroes and that's it. I'm willing to lay money that Suda51's next opus will hit the PS3 eventually. Too much money floating out there for it not to. Then again given my recent betting record...
This site! is pretty cool. Documentaries fall out of it's backside. John Pilger's stuff is head and shoulders above anything else. Stealing a Nation is a must see. Never thought I'd see the day when a Labour government would act so callously towards an innocent people. It's incredible that nobody has been thrown into the dock of the Chagos incident. Abysmal.
Hands are cold now. That happens when you work outside for an age between paragraphs on a cold day. Amazing. It also takes a toll on the brain because the train of thought is lost and one really cannot think about what else he'd like to immortalise in cybertext.
Nope. Can't do it. Time to read. In tribute to the one game I'd thought I'd never play but have played and now need more joypads to play it with friends, take it away -- Reptiles!
CGI boo!
I wouldn't wish me on a broke-dick dog. Ever.
Yes I've weighed the pros and cons and one side of that scale is significantly heavier. The only thing that should be wished for a broke-dick dog is an unbroken-dick, or a fixed-dick (I'd go with the former myself, the latter implies a that the dog suffered some). So there we go.
Hello. I'm on a high. Not pharmaceutical though, the co-codamols I've just ingested for my bastard knees will kick in soon enough. No, I'm on a high because after 15 years I've finally won Altered Beat. Got it for the Amiga in 1992 and despite the best efforts could never get past level three. So freaking hard. But thanks to MAME32 I was able to give it the business and claim success. Pretty disappointing end though. The bosses were a piece of piss compared to their fiendish minions. And teh end sequence wasn't exactly rewarding.
Indeed the God seemed to endorse his free daughter shacking up with a werewolf which might have been all good in ancient Greece (actually it would have, the nonsense that went on back then...) but not in Egg's bedroom in the 21st century.
Still the idea of the God's daughter shacking up with a werewolf is more plausible than Ned having a son in Neighbours. Or a man having a tree on his head.
I wish to apologise to Mr Bamboo. In my previous entry I confused him with Mr Tree and wished ill on his name. This was rash of me. Mr Bamboo is a fine individual that makes flip-hot baskets, divines water like a muhfuh and lies to aliens. Mr Tree is a sodomite and shags bison for blow. This troubled me.
Saw the NEW Seagal movie - URBAN JUSTICE. Almighty ass it does kick. He plays a father whose son was murdered. Seagal has to find out who did it and kick their ass. And he really does go on a violence spree in this one. It's so awesome he actually DUBS HIS OWN VOICE!!!!!! I mean, that doesn't happen very often. His best movie since Under Siege. I would say Top 3. with the third being Out For Justice. The man can still bring it. As can Van Damme in Until Death. I'll watch those two movies over almost anything else this summer (Bourne Ultimatum and maybe Transformers being the exceptions).
Been watching a lot of John Pilger documentaries recently. He is by far the best documentary maker out there. War on Democracy was amazing. It was about how the USA fecks with South America over the years. A fine watch.
Bugger. Wished I bought some Oreos this morning when I was near a place that sold them.
While flicking through the channels last night a caught an ad on a blue movie channels offering £250 for a homemade XXX video. You've Been Framed pays £250 for a video of a baby slavering spaghetti over their face. There's a point I'm trying to make here but the co-codamols have dulled my thoughts. On the good side my knees are easier now.
There's nothing like sticking it to your old boss. Bought a bed frame from him. He didn't deliver it. His idiot son-in-law said it was coming while acting all wide. It didn't. Went back teh following day and shit did the son-in-law act all contrite when I showed up. Then I had my old boss acted very apologetically and I told him I wasn't very happy about the whole thing and I swear his voice went like voices do when you twist a knife. Got money back, no arguments and will never do business with his place again. Businesses up here used to have the advantage of scarity power - nowhere else to go but them unless you wanted an almighty hassle. Now, thanks to the Internet, that power has pissed away and there not much in the way of sympathy among the consumers. Serves them right.
I have zero sympathy for that numpty that got tasered. Yell, acting like a crazy man in front of the police. Holy moly, only a fool wouldn't realise what would wind up happening. What a dumbass.
Oh yes. I'm feeling that medicinal relief now. I always seem to need painkillers when writing one of these. Weird. Perhaps if I wrote a blog when I'm healthy... bwahahahahahahahaha. Healthy. I'm such a ham.
Okay, time to plant some lipstick on this here hog. Take it away... THE DELOREAN
I'm reading American Psycho at the moment. Kinda explains this choice.
Yes I've weighed the pros and cons and one side of that scale is significantly heavier. The only thing that should be wished for a broke-dick dog is an unbroken-dick, or a fixed-dick (I'd go with the former myself, the latter implies a that the dog suffered some). So there we go.
Hello. I'm on a high. Not pharmaceutical though, the co-codamols I've just ingested for my bastard knees will kick in soon enough. No, I'm on a high because after 15 years I've finally won Altered Beat. Got it for the Amiga in 1992 and despite the best efforts could never get past level three. So freaking hard. But thanks to MAME32 I was able to give it the business and claim success. Pretty disappointing end though. The bosses were a piece of piss compared to their fiendish minions. And teh end sequence wasn't exactly rewarding.
Indeed the God seemed to endorse his free daughter shacking up with a werewolf which might have been all good in ancient Greece (actually it would have, the nonsense that went on back then...) but not in Egg's bedroom in the 21st century.
Still the idea of the God's daughter shacking up with a werewolf is more plausible than Ned having a son in Neighbours. Or a man having a tree on his head.
I wish to apologise to Mr Bamboo. In my previous entry I confused him with Mr Tree and wished ill on his name. This was rash of me. Mr Bamboo is a fine individual that makes flip-hot baskets, divines water like a muhfuh and lies to aliens. Mr Tree is a sodomite and shags bison for blow. This troubled me.
Saw the NEW Seagal movie - URBAN JUSTICE. Almighty ass it does kick. He plays a father whose son was murdered. Seagal has to find out who did it and kick their ass. And he really does go on a violence spree in this one. It's so awesome he actually DUBS HIS OWN VOICE!!!!!! I mean, that doesn't happen very often. His best movie since Under Siege. I would say Top 3. with the third being Out For Justice. The man can still bring it. As can Van Damme in Until Death. I'll watch those two movies over almost anything else this summer (Bourne Ultimatum and maybe Transformers being the exceptions).
Been watching a lot of John Pilger documentaries recently. He is by far the best documentary maker out there. War on Democracy was amazing. It was about how the USA fecks with South America over the years. A fine watch.
Bugger. Wished I bought some Oreos this morning when I was near a place that sold them.
While flicking through the channels last night a caught an ad on a blue movie channels offering £250 for a homemade XXX video. You've Been Framed pays £250 for a video of a baby slavering spaghetti over their face. There's a point I'm trying to make here but the co-codamols have dulled my thoughts. On the good side my knees are easier now.
There's nothing like sticking it to your old boss. Bought a bed frame from him. He didn't deliver it. His idiot son-in-law said it was coming while acting all wide. It didn't. Went back teh following day and shit did the son-in-law act all contrite when I showed up. Then I had my old boss acted very apologetically and I told him I wasn't very happy about the whole thing and I swear his voice went like voices do when you twist a knife. Got money back, no arguments and will never do business with his place again. Businesses up here used to have the advantage of scarity power - nowhere else to go but them unless you wanted an almighty hassle. Now, thanks to the Internet, that power has pissed away and there not much in the way of sympathy among the consumers. Serves them right.
I have zero sympathy for that numpty that got tasered. Yell, acting like a crazy man in front of the police. Holy moly, only a fool wouldn't realise what would wind up happening. What a dumbass.
Oh yes. I'm feeling that medicinal relief now. I always seem to need painkillers when writing one of these. Weird. Perhaps if I wrote a blog when I'm healthy... bwahahahahahahahaha. Healthy. I'm such a ham.
Okay, time to plant some lipstick on this here hog. Take it away... THE DELOREAN
I'm reading American Psycho at the moment. Kinda explains this choice.
One of the many beauties of the internet is that one can get up in the middle of the night and order whatever one wants.
The other week my mattress decided to take liberties with my back. I mean the scumbag made my back it's prison bitch without the fluid. Roughed it up. It was an improvement on the previous mattress that had the broken spring that ripped chunks out my ass whenever it felt like it but no, I was done being its Beecher.
So up I went, did some research and ordered me a new mattress. The moment was beautiful.
What wasn't beautiful was the following morning when I realised I'd ordered the wrong fecking size so had to hunt down a new base. Finally went to my old boss' shop (the dude has his fingers in many pies) and got one on the cheap because he wanted rid of the thing. He wanted to dump my new bed base so much that he called me Friday to say he con;t find the centre base and he would deliver it today. Which he didn;t so that makes him a liar and, in turn, makes me his consumer Adebesi (would say Schillinger but that dude was a nasty racist and my old boss is a Pakistani so the connotations in my mind were too strong. Dig my morality...)
Finally, I may get the chance to put one over on one of my old boss'. Finally!!!!!
Sorry, bad poker flashback there. Hello.
Keep meaning to update this thing. For the past few weeks it's been 'Right, I'll play a little Okami then update my blog'. Three hours later I'm yelling obscenities at Mr Bamboo for having a bloody flower on his head and the like. Two effing hours I spent wandering that frigging town looking for that last cherry blossom and it was on his frigging head. I HATE HIM. Mr Bamboo is a faecal-smearing douchebag. I mean honestly, what sort of man wears a blossom on his head. Probably the same type of man that has conversations with wolves... ahh, it all comes together now.
Dash and blast. I had a whole stack of thoughts stashed up to tell cyberspace about but the tree wearing gobshite's gone and booted them out my head. Nggg, want to mash his gonads into a gooey pulp and smear them over David Cameron, Jack Thompson and any other nitwit that links violent videogames to bad behaviour instead of going to the roots of the problem... the vendors and the parents.
All right, lets try and undo this damage:
Lost 20lbs in the last seven weeks. Losing weight is easy once the mindset is locked in.
Finally did 'The Merchant of Venice' video but it sucked and will never see the light of day. Unless you come by my place and Egg's cool with you. Not unless.
It always sucks when two great guys you work with leave. Phil and Ramsay are two great guys and they left which sucked for me because that's two less great guys at work but rules for them because they've gone on to bigger and better things which I'm really stoked about. The only other positive to spin out of this is that I have plenty of time to listen to the audio version of The Economist at work. Tis real good.
Gah, I'm blocked. That rotten Mr Bamboo. He may be old but if he ever becomes reality I've giving him a slap and insulting his lifestyle, the tree-hugging gimp. To hell with the consequences.
Right, time to find out why my Greek friend got zotted (I believe that is the term). Heard this song the other day for the first time in years and it blew my bollocks asunder. It seems an appropriate to what I'm going to do to Mr Bamboo should the opportunity arise.
Grab your nuts for this one. Take it away... Sepultura!:
Yes!
The other week my mattress decided to take liberties with my back. I mean the scumbag made my back it's prison bitch without the fluid. Roughed it up. It was an improvement on the previous mattress that had the broken spring that ripped chunks out my ass whenever it felt like it but no, I was done being its Beecher.
So up I went, did some research and ordered me a new mattress. The moment was beautiful.
What wasn't beautiful was the following morning when I realised I'd ordered the wrong fecking size so had to hunt down a new base. Finally went to my old boss' shop (the dude has his fingers in many pies) and got one on the cheap because he wanted rid of the thing. He wanted to dump my new bed base so much that he called me Friday to say he con;t find the centre base and he would deliver it today. Which he didn;t so that makes him a liar and, in turn, makes me his consumer Adebesi (would say Schillinger but that dude was a nasty racist and my old boss is a Pakistani so the connotations in my mind were too strong. Dig my morality...)
Finally, I may get the chance to put one over on one of my old boss'. Finally!!!!!
Sorry, bad poker flashback there. Hello.
Keep meaning to update this thing. For the past few weeks it's been 'Right, I'll play a little Okami then update my blog'. Three hours later I'm yelling obscenities at Mr Bamboo for having a bloody flower on his head and the like. Two effing hours I spent wandering that frigging town looking for that last cherry blossom and it was on his frigging head. I HATE HIM. Mr Bamboo is a faecal-smearing douchebag. I mean honestly, what sort of man wears a blossom on his head. Probably the same type of man that has conversations with wolves... ahh, it all comes together now.
Dash and blast. I had a whole stack of thoughts stashed up to tell cyberspace about but the tree wearing gobshite's gone and booted them out my head. Nggg, want to mash his gonads into a gooey pulp and smear them over David Cameron, Jack Thompson and any other nitwit that links violent videogames to bad behaviour instead of going to the roots of the problem... the vendors and the parents.
All right, lets try and undo this damage:
Lost 20lbs in the last seven weeks. Losing weight is easy once the mindset is locked in.
Finally did 'The Merchant of Venice' video but it sucked and will never see the light of day. Unless you come by my place and Egg's cool with you. Not unless.
It always sucks when two great guys you work with leave. Phil and Ramsay are two great guys and they left which sucked for me because that's two less great guys at work but rules for them because they've gone on to bigger and better things which I'm really stoked about. The only other positive to spin out of this is that I have plenty of time to listen to the audio version of The Economist at work. Tis real good.
Gah, I'm blocked. That rotten Mr Bamboo. He may be old but if he ever becomes reality I've giving him a slap and insulting his lifestyle, the tree-hugging gimp. To hell with the consequences.
Right, time to find out why my Greek friend got zotted (I believe that is the term). Heard this song the other day for the first time in years and it blew my bollocks asunder. It seems an appropriate to what I'm going to do to Mr Bamboo should the opportunity arise.
Grab your nuts for this one. Take it away... Sepultura!:
Yes!
Over the past fortnight I've been listening to this audiobook 'The Undercover Economist'. It's about an economist who tries to explain economics to the masses without getting into textbook terms (such terms put me off going to uni to study the thing - among other reasons). It is a fascinating book. Makes you think.
Some of the stories he relays are quite extraordinary (like the selling of celluar 3G rights (I forget the exact term). The American government got hosed!!! Not as bad as the New Zealand government though - the dude in charge of that farce got shitcanned. But Gordon Brown, and the economists he hired, did us Brits proud... and that's all the jingoism you'll read here until Scotland resumes their Euro 2008 campaign... and I've gone off in another tangent).
The one story that really got my brain crunked (thanks Brocklee) was the one about sweatshops. He says the best way to help the sweatshop workers was to buy the product. He backed this up with a logical argument (essentially doing so will encourage competition and thus unlock all the benefits). This made sense... for a day or so.
What the prick author did not mention in his argument is the supply of cheap labour will forever be greater than the demand for cheap shitty products. Hence it really makes negligible difference to support the sweatshops because if the workers kick up a fuss the companies can up sticks and be welcomed with open arms in another third world province. Now the only way this can be prevented is if all third-world workers unite together and demand ethical treatment but the chance of that happening are less than the odds of Merchant of Venice hitting Youtube in it's current choppy form because these people are so poor that they'll take what they can get instead of fighting for what they deserve.
Which sucks but that's economics and economics isn't being reformed until our demand for goods hits zero like in Star Trek with the replicators (I'd order Pot Noodle right now).
God, it's scary how close I came to thinking like the prick author. Scary.
Kinda depressed now.
Arseflesh.
That's enough tub-thumping. There's a place for tub-thumping and here really isn't it. Outside old man Maddison's joint on a work night. Piss him right off it would. But I'd get a verbal warming and a clip round the ear so that's out.
Shark Attack 3 is the funniest non-Seagal film. I've seen in years. I've never seen anything quite like it. Seek it out but for feck's sake do not, under any circumstances, spend your own money on it. Spend someone elses. You'll be glad they did.
I saw two Van-Damme DTV movies this week (In Hell and Until Death) and I tell you I would recommend them over almost any summer blockbuster I've seen (expect Transformers, naturally). He doesn't kickbox. He acts. He fricking acts!! That's the difference between him and Seagal. Both in the same rut but at least Van Damme is busting his hump to get out of it. Seagal seems to have settled (mainly because he hates his employers but he should at least be professional-ish. Or kick more people in the nuts. he does that so well.)
Well I was hoping to leave some Shakespeare below but instead I'm sticking the vid of a party where the song I've been listening to all night was played. I swear I've gone from loving to hating to loving to hating to (ad infinitum -1) to loving the bastard to death. So....
Take it away Killing in the Name Of remixed by sebastIan (god that looks so unimpressive):
Bless Radio 1 - it has renewed its purpose in my life.
Some of the stories he relays are quite extraordinary (like the selling of celluar 3G rights (I forget the exact term). The American government got hosed!!! Not as bad as the New Zealand government though - the dude in charge of that farce got shitcanned. But Gordon Brown, and the economists he hired, did us Brits proud... and that's all the jingoism you'll read here until Scotland resumes their Euro 2008 campaign... and I've gone off in another tangent).
The one story that really got my brain crunked (thanks Brocklee) was the one about sweatshops. He says the best way to help the sweatshop workers was to buy the product. He backed this up with a logical argument (essentially doing so will encourage competition and thus unlock all the benefits). This made sense... for a day or so.
What the prick author did not mention in his argument is the supply of cheap labour will forever be greater than the demand for cheap shitty products. Hence it really makes negligible difference to support the sweatshops because if the workers kick up a fuss the companies can up sticks and be welcomed with open arms in another third world province. Now the only way this can be prevented is if all third-world workers unite together and demand ethical treatment but the chance of that happening are less than the odds of Merchant of Venice hitting Youtube in it's current choppy form because these people are so poor that they'll take what they can get instead of fighting for what they deserve.
Which sucks but that's economics and economics isn't being reformed until our demand for goods hits zero like in Star Trek with the replicators (I'd order Pot Noodle right now).
God, it's scary how close I came to thinking like the prick author. Scary.
Kinda depressed now.
Arseflesh.
That's enough tub-thumping. There's a place for tub-thumping and here really isn't it. Outside old man Maddison's joint on a work night. Piss him right off it would. But I'd get a verbal warming and a clip round the ear so that's out.
Shark Attack 3 is the funniest non-Seagal film. I've seen in years. I've never seen anything quite like it. Seek it out but for feck's sake do not, under any circumstances, spend your own money on it. Spend someone elses. You'll be glad they did.
I saw two Van-Damme DTV movies this week (In Hell and Until Death) and I tell you I would recommend them over almost any summer blockbuster I've seen (expect Transformers, naturally). He doesn't kickbox. He acts. He fricking acts!! That's the difference between him and Seagal. Both in the same rut but at least Van Damme is busting his hump to get out of it. Seagal seems to have settled (mainly because he hates his employers but he should at least be professional-ish. Or kick more people in the nuts. he does that so well.)
Well I was hoping to leave some Shakespeare below but instead I'm sticking the vid of a party where the song I've been listening to all night was played. I swear I've gone from loving to hating to loving to hating to (ad infinitum -1) to loving the bastard to death. So....
Take it away Killing in the Name Of remixed by sebastIan (god that looks so unimpressive):
Bless Radio 1 - it has renewed its purpose in my life.
To celebrate finishing the 1st draft of my book I gave myself food poisoning and have spent the best part of the last few days trying to forget all the undigested food that thundered through me. It will be a very long time before I have rice and curried mince. It'll be even long before I have sushi also. Not that I ate sushi, it was tscrewing up the thawing of the frozen meal that 'did me in', but the whole idea of raw fish just makes my colon clench. Comes with spending 18 months working with worm-ridden cod and rotten haddocks.
See supermarket fish cakes and fish-fingers? The white comes from phosphorous. I should know because I helped put it there many moons back.
Um, I've spiralled off into a tangent. As usual.
What cracks? I've been getting paid to make schools stink. It's pretty cool. They fit woollen carpets but forget to close the skylight when it pisses down so we get called into to clean that mother and feck me does it stink. It's a real thrill. Well I found it to be and that's what counts.
As I traipse towards 30 I felt it would be a corking time to start keeping a book called 'Things to do before....' (the ellipsis because there's to point adding morbid nonsense to a book of fun.) Here are some excerpts:
2: With Egg, start a fight at a nudie bar (fuck splitting the atom, this would be a real achievement)
9: Meet Mr. T (because he rules)
14: Run through a busy street in a brown suit (like that dude in Munich when the girl answers the. It looked like fun. Mossad hit-squad optional)
26: Do the Jack Nicholson scene from The Departed (the porno theatre thing. Homework required for this one though. Don't want to point a black phallus at the wrong dude for many obvious reasons )
28: Be thrown off live TV with Egg (just because)
37: Go tub-thumping with Jack Straw (actually there's a better chance of getting Egg to a nudie bar that me going to Blackburn...)
45: Make a pimp-sized Starbar (like they do here. Starbars rule.)
Got 47 down so far, already done two which I didn't realise until now. So that's all good.
If you want to be thoroughly depressed go watch 'A Crude Awakening'. It's a documentary that I recommend you do not pay for because the thought of paying for something that will really make you miserable is never a wise investment. Life is short. Treat it as such.
Unless it comes to this here game --> Monkey Kick-Off Then invest your life in getting over 5000m and earning, yes earning, my admiration and jealously in equal measure. Or, if you're feeling creative, under 21m. If you nail either I want to see pictorial proof because I'm that anal about this subject.
Enough for now Usually I stick a pretty freaking cool music video here but this time I'm shoving a video here that has kept me in good humour through the past month. From the mindset that it pays to be loud, take it away Bill and Gerry:
Bless their socks...
See supermarket fish cakes and fish-fingers? The white comes from phosphorous. I should know because I helped put it there many moons back.
Um, I've spiralled off into a tangent. As usual.
What cracks? I've been getting paid to make schools stink. It's pretty cool. They fit woollen carpets but forget to close the skylight when it pisses down so we get called into to clean that mother and feck me does it stink. It's a real thrill. Well I found it to be and that's what counts.
As I traipse towards 30 I felt it would be a corking time to start keeping a book called 'Things to do before....' (the ellipsis because there's to point adding morbid nonsense to a book of fun.) Here are some excerpts:
2: With Egg, start a fight at a nudie bar (fuck splitting the atom, this would be a real achievement)
9: Meet Mr. T (because he rules)
14: Run through a busy street in a brown suit (like that dude in Munich when the girl answers the. It looked like fun. Mossad hit-squad optional)
26: Do the Jack Nicholson scene from The Departed (the porno theatre thing. Homework required for this one though. Don't want to point a black phallus at the wrong dude for many obvious reasons )
28: Be thrown off live TV with Egg (just because)
37: Go tub-thumping with Jack Straw (actually there's a better chance of getting Egg to a nudie bar that me going to Blackburn...)
45: Make a pimp-sized Starbar (like they do here. Starbars rule.)
Got 47 down so far, already done two which I didn't realise until now. So that's all good.
If you want to be thoroughly depressed go watch 'A Crude Awakening'. It's a documentary that I recommend you do not pay for because the thought of paying for something that will really make you miserable is never a wise investment. Life is short. Treat it as such.
Unless it comes to this here game --> Monkey Kick-Off Then invest your life in getting over 5000m and earning, yes earning, my admiration and jealously in equal measure. Or, if you're feeling creative, under 21m. If you nail either I want to see pictorial proof because I'm that anal about this subject.
Enough for now Usually I stick a pretty freaking cool music video here but this time I'm shoving a video here that has kept me in good humour through the past month. From the mindset that it pays to be loud, take it away Bill and Gerry:
Bless their socks...
MAY 2010
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APRIL 2010
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MARCH 2010
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FEBRUARY 2010