This blog is pretty much defunct nowadays. I have kinda lost interest, but also don't really have too much time to write stuff for it. That's not to say I may pick it up again at some point in the future, but until I do I will occasionally publish real text message conversations I have with He-Who-Cannto-Be-Named. Like this recent one:
Him: I was wondering if you'd like to be in a home movie I'm going to make. It will be released on the internet. Do you still have your crotchless spider man costume?
Me: What is it about? Will I be the star?
Him: It's a super hero movie, a kind of 'unofficial' adaptation of Alan Moore's Watchmen. Working title is 'Crotchmen'. How do you feel about working with animals?
Me: Sounds great! I like Roger Moore, he's my favourite James Bund. They say never work with children or animals. But I've certainly 'worked' with both before, if you know what I mean?
Him: I think I do know what you mean! That's why I think you'd be perfect for this role. Do you know what your pain threshold is for electricity?
Me: I've not tested it fully. Will this be like method acting?
Him: Yes. Don't worry about it. Just 'be' your character. The more authentic it looks, the better.
Me: Is it going to be guerilla style cinema?
Him: There may be a gorilla involved, yes. Or at least a bonobo or a chimp.
Me: That doesn't sound much like a super hero film. Have you got a script I could have a look at?
Him: It doesn't really have a script. This is proper Ken Loach style movie making. Improvised realism is key. Besides there won't be much dialogue anyway, cos most of the time you'll have something stuffed in your mouth.
Me: OK, well it would be nice to meet some of my fellow actors, you know, to get a feel of how we'll work together.
Him: No need. You're all professionals. Just turn n the day and it will be fine. I'll pay you thirty pounds for eight hours work, take it or leave it. You need to bring some nipple clamps too.
Me: OK, I guess I have been an out of work actor for so long any job is worth taking. Thanks for this opportunity!
Him: Don't mention it. I mean that literally. Don't tell anyone about this.
Me: Ooh, all hush hush? I love secret projects!
Him: Good, cos if you go blabbing about this one I'll break your fucking knees.
Me: Wow, this is exciting, a really big secret!
Him: Shut the fuck up and go and get a full body wax.
Me: I like a director who takes control.
Him: I hope you like a chimp that takes control too.
Then it all went quiet for a bit until I got this:
Him: I keep getting texts from Dominoes Pizza, almost every day. I never reply but they keep texting me. Do you think they fancy me or something?
Me: Text them back, see if they want to go for a drink.
Him: I called Dominoes, they didn't want to go for a drink but they said I could come round for a pizza! I'm so excited! I just need to decide what to wear!
Showing posts with label idiots. Show all posts
Showing posts with label idiots. Show all posts
Tuesday, 22 January 2013
Saturday, 4 August 2012
A Song for Europe
Until I can be bothered to write a post about my time on the Isle of Man, here is a song about it:
Ballacagen Excavation 2012 Song
by Gerard Landels
It's half past six on a Sunday,
So a new breakfast crew shuffles in.
They were all out quite late,
The mess tent is a state:
It seems no cleaning fairy has been.
James screams, 'Wake up archaeologists,
As the time has rolled over to eight!
And you'll clean out the dregs
Or knock in new tent pegs
If you finish your breakfast too late!'
He goes, 'Blah, blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah...
Blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah-blah-blah...'
Sing us a song 'cause it's raining,
Sing to us now, we're in pain.
Well our spirits are sunk,
'Cause this new pump is junk,
And we just can't face bailing again!
It goes on and on,
Yes, it goes on...
And we're getting fed up of it now!
Well Rachel, she's keen on her features.
She loves them if the truth be known,
And she's made up her mind
That she doesn't like finds,
Because every third one is a stone!
In truth she's a pretty good teacher
Cause her students all feel they belong,
But she's sure to get tetchy
If your shovelin's sketchy
Or if you get anything wrong...
She'll go, 'Blah, blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah...
Blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah-blah-blah...'
Sing us a song 'cause it's raining,
Sing to us now, we're in pain.
Well our spirits are sunk,
'Cause this new pump is junk,
And we just can't face bailing again!
It goes on and on,
Yes, it goes on...
And we're really fed up_ of it now!
Now Alex came over especially,
He's a grumpy old man with no friends.
But he does like his booze,
And looking for his shoes-
Yes he follows clue trails to their ends.
And if ever a pump should look broken,
Well he'll stand and look at it all day,
Else he's down the urinal
Just thinking 'bout vinyl
And pissing his troubles away!
He goes, 'Blah, blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah...
Blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah-blah-blah...'
(The rest I can't repeat!)
Sing us a song 'cause it's raining,
Sing to us now, we're in pain.
Well our spirits are sunk,
'Cause this new pump is junk,
And we just can't face bailing again!
It goes on and on,
Yes, it goes on...
And we've just had enough_ of it now!
Well Harold's the man with the master plan,
For him I have nothing but praise.
He's no time for the Sith
Or that common-held myth
That a groundwater level might raise!
He spends time on the site pretty sparingly
And never cleans his spoil away,
But he must be quite bright
Because when he's on site,
Well... He's not short of something to say!
He goes, 'Blah, blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah...
Blah, blah, blah-blah-blah, blah-blah-blah...
(Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah...)'
Sing us a song 'cause it's raining,
Sing to us now, we're in pain.
Well our spirits are sunk,
'Cause this new pump is junk,
And we just can't face bailing again!
It goes on and on,
Yes, it goes on...
Until we can all go back home!
Monday, 11 June 2012
The sign o' the times
It has been a while since I posted any of the text messages between myself and He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named, so here I present a few from the last couple of days:
6 June:
Him: How many chips do you think you've eaten in your life so far? Something for you to calculate while you sit around on your arse.
Me: I think it's somewhere around nine.
Him: Craig says you're lying to yourself. He says he knows for a fact because he's seen you eat more than nine.
Me: I said ABOUT nine. It might be a couple more.
Him: OK, that makes sense.
7th June:
Him: In this enlightened day and age, why are people still allowed to play bongos in public?
Me: I know. They need to be flogged in public.
Him: They need to be anally violated with their own bongos.
Me: And strangled.
10th June:
Him: Which do you like best, black metal or being bum fucked like a little bitch? I'm asking because I'm assuming you're familiar with both.
Me: Both equally, but I would prefer to watch you being burnt at the stake.
11th June:
Me: Would you prefer to be persecuted as a 17th century witch or a 20th century Jew?
Him: Not sure, I'll have to think about that one and get back to you.
Me: Don't take too long, I've got a bunch of people here who are getting pretty agitated.
Him: I'd rather be the witch, because then at least then I could use my magic to defend myself.
Me: OK, we have to decide whether to burn you, drown you or crush you under an oak door. I'll get back to you.
Him: I told you, I'm using my magic to defend myself by turning myself into a cat.
Me: No, you see, your magic doesn't really exist and you're just some lonely middle aged eccentric woman that the rest of the village have taken a dislike to. It's mob law and I can't do much about it, even though I'm the local Squire.
Him: Why are you such a dick even in hypothetical scenarios?
Me: You can't talk to me like that! I'm a Squire! No wonder you've got yourself into this situation. You've only got yourself to blame old woman.
Him: I'm gonna turn you into a newt, mother fucka.
Me: Your magic doesn't exist no matter how many magic mushrooms you take. How many fucking times?
Him: Then why the fuck are you threatening to burn me at the stake?
Me: It's the rule of the mob. As Squire I have to keep the village happy and they want to burn you. Or drown you or crush you under an oak door. I don't make the rules, I just abide by them.
Him: This is fucking bullshit, I want a lawyer.
Me: We burnt him last week. Someone said he was using magic to increase his cow herd's milk yield. I think it was just jealousy, but it's mob rule.
Him: Soon the mob will turn on you. You realise that, don't you?
Me: No they won't. They love and obey their social betters. You do own a cat, don't you?
Him: No I don't own a cat.
Me: Hmm, that's a bit of a shame. It would have strengthened our case against you if you had a familiar. Never mind, there's probably loads of other stuff we can pin on you. I'm sure you'll have a wart somewhere.
Him: Is this how you spend your time now that you're on the dole? Persecuting innocent people?
Me: You're not innocent. You are a lonely middle aged eccentric woman who probably has a cat and a wart. You're banged to rights.
Him: I'm going to put a hex on your ass. I'm going to tell everyone that you made me use my powers on numerous occasions to deal with your chronic impotence.
Me: Your 'powers' don't exist and you won't be heard above the braying of the crowd. They can get pretty rowdy when they're mad!
Him: They're all a bunch of cunts and I hope they die of AIDS.
Me: At least they won't be burnt, drowned or crushed under an oak door while a braying crowd kill your cat. Anyway, I'm at the cinema now, so I've lost interest in you and your idiocy. OK BYE!
6 June:
Him: How many chips do you think you've eaten in your life so far? Something for you to calculate while you sit around on your arse.
Me: I think it's somewhere around nine.
Him: Craig says you're lying to yourself. He says he knows for a fact because he's seen you eat more than nine.
Me: I said ABOUT nine. It might be a couple more.
Him: OK, that makes sense.
7th June:
Him: In this enlightened day and age, why are people still allowed to play bongos in public?
Me: I know. They need to be flogged in public.
Him: They need to be anally violated with their own bongos.
Me: And strangled.
10th June:
Him: Which do you like best, black metal or being bum fucked like a little bitch? I'm asking because I'm assuming you're familiar with both.
Me: Both equally, but I would prefer to watch you being burnt at the stake.
11th June:
Me: Would you prefer to be persecuted as a 17th century witch or a 20th century Jew?
Him: Not sure, I'll have to think about that one and get back to you.
Me: Don't take too long, I've got a bunch of people here who are getting pretty agitated.
Him: I'd rather be the witch, because then at least then I could use my magic to defend myself.
Me: OK, we have to decide whether to burn you, drown you or crush you under an oak door. I'll get back to you.
Him: I told you, I'm using my magic to defend myself by turning myself into a cat.
Me: No, you see, your magic doesn't really exist and you're just some lonely middle aged eccentric woman that the rest of the village have taken a dislike to. It's mob law and I can't do much about it, even though I'm the local Squire.
Him: Why are you such a dick even in hypothetical scenarios?
Me: You can't talk to me like that! I'm a Squire! No wonder you've got yourself into this situation. You've only got yourself to blame old woman.
Him: I'm gonna turn you into a newt, mother fucka.
Me: Your magic doesn't exist no matter how many magic mushrooms you take. How many fucking times?
Him: Then why the fuck are you threatening to burn me at the stake?
Me: It's the rule of the mob. As Squire I have to keep the village happy and they want to burn you. Or drown you or crush you under an oak door. I don't make the rules, I just abide by them.
Him: This is fucking bullshit, I want a lawyer.
Me: We burnt him last week. Someone said he was using magic to increase his cow herd's milk yield. I think it was just jealousy, but it's mob rule.
Him: Soon the mob will turn on you. You realise that, don't you?
Me: No they won't. They love and obey their social betters. You do own a cat, don't you?
Him: No I don't own a cat.
Me: Hmm, that's a bit of a shame. It would have strengthened our case against you if you had a familiar. Never mind, there's probably loads of other stuff we can pin on you. I'm sure you'll have a wart somewhere.
Him: Is this how you spend your time now that you're on the dole? Persecuting innocent people?
Me: You're not innocent. You are a lonely middle aged eccentric woman who probably has a cat and a wart. You're banged to rights.
Him: I'm going to put a hex on your ass. I'm going to tell everyone that you made me use my powers on numerous occasions to deal with your chronic impotence.
Me: Your 'powers' don't exist and you won't be heard above the braying of the crowd. They can get pretty rowdy when they're mad!
Him: They're all a bunch of cunts and I hope they die of AIDS.
Me: At least they won't be burnt, drowned or crushed under an oak door while a braying crowd kill your cat. Anyway, I'm at the cinema now, so I've lost interest in you and your idiocy. OK BYE!
Thursday, 26 January 2012
Got Milk?
As I mentioned in the last post I went along to see War Horse with He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named as he made his way to York from D***** we had the following text conversation:
Him: Dear alex, i should be getting to york about ten past one. Shall i come to yours for lunch, or do you want to meet in town? Lots of love, ****
Me: Dear ****, I'm sorry to tell you I'm in Basingstoke today. So your journey is wasted. I hope you die. Lots of love Alex.
Me: Actually, i didn't check cinema times, did you?
Him: Yes, there's a show at 4pm. So you're not in Basingstoke? Was that some kind of fucking joke? Did you think you were funny, clown boy? Did you?
Me: I don't even know where Basingstoke is. Do you want to come here, but buy some tickets on the way over? We can have lunch here. What do you want?
Him: I'll eat whatever you put in my face, you know that. I'll get tickets on the way over. Basingstoke is in Hampshire.
Me: OK, I might get us a pizza! I don't know where Hampshire is. Or give a fuck for that matter.
Him: Hampshire is somewhere south of sheffield, that's all you need to know. I fucking hate pizza, and if you get pizza i'll throw it in your FUCKING FACE.
Me: Then I'm certainly not interested. What flavour do you want on your pizza. I know you love pizza.
Him: I don't mind. Get avocado ice cream flavour if you can. Or margherita.
Me: Pepperoni? Only gays eat gay flavour pizza.
Him: Yeah that's fine. Thanks petal.
Two hours later
Him: I'm at D***** station, i just bought my ticket to york, now i'm sitting on a bench waiting for my train to arrive.
Me: So?
Him: I just thought you might like to know that everything is going to plan so far.
Me: Fuck you and fuck your plan.
Five minutes later:
Me: In light of that, I'm changing dinner plans. We're having Mexican wraps instead.
Him: You can't fuck with the plans like that, it was all arranged. Now you've fucked everything up. And you probably expect me to pick up the pieces, as usual.
Me: Yeah.
Him: I just got on my train. At least i'm following the plan. Let's see if we can salvage something from this shipwreck of a sunday.
Me: Make sure you get good fucking seats at the cinema or I will set the dogs on you.
Him: Where would you like to sit?
Me: In the middle, you know where.
Fifteen minutes later
Me: And can you get some milk, please, I love you.
Him: For fuck's sake.
Me: I love you.
Him: Fuck off. You're only saying that so i'll get you some milk.
Me: No, I do.
Him: Right i've got the tickets. I'll pick up some milk. anything else i can get you? The golden fleece perhaps? The holy grail?
Me: Actually, I've decided i don't want to go to the cinema after all. I'm gonna stay in and paint some tanks. So don't bother coming over.
Him: Okay. I guess i'll see you around at some point.
Me: Don't count on it. Actually, will you put the milk on my doorstep? ring the bell so i know it's you, but fuck off immediately.
Him: If you let me in i can put the milk in the fridge for you. I wouldn't want you to over exert yourself by going all the way to the front door to pick it up.
Me: But I'd still have to get up to let you in. And I'd see you. No dice.
Him: I've left milk on window sill, i'm going back to d*****
I looked up and there was a pint of milk on the window sill.
Him: Dear alex, i should be getting to york about ten past one. Shall i come to yours for lunch, or do you want to meet in town? Lots of love, ****
Me: Dear ****, I'm sorry to tell you I'm in Basingstoke today. So your journey is wasted. I hope you die. Lots of love Alex.
Me: Actually, i didn't check cinema times, did you?
Him: Yes, there's a show at 4pm. So you're not in Basingstoke? Was that some kind of fucking joke? Did you think you were funny, clown boy? Did you?
Me: I don't even know where Basingstoke is. Do you want to come here, but buy some tickets on the way over? We can have lunch here. What do you want?
Him: I'll eat whatever you put in my face, you know that. I'll get tickets on the way over. Basingstoke is in Hampshire.
Me: OK, I might get us a pizza! I don't know where Hampshire is. Or give a fuck for that matter.
Him: Hampshire is somewhere south of sheffield, that's all you need to know. I fucking hate pizza, and if you get pizza i'll throw it in your FUCKING FACE.
Me: Then I'm certainly not interested. What flavour do you want on your pizza. I know you love pizza.
Him: I don't mind. Get avocado ice cream flavour if you can. Or margherita.
Me: Pepperoni? Only gays eat gay flavour pizza.
Him: Yeah that's fine. Thanks petal.
Two hours later
Him: I'm at D***** station, i just bought my ticket to york, now i'm sitting on a bench waiting for my train to arrive.
Me: So?
Him: I just thought you might like to know that everything is going to plan so far.
Me: Fuck you and fuck your plan.
Five minutes later:
Me: In light of that, I'm changing dinner plans. We're having Mexican wraps instead.
Him: You can't fuck with the plans like that, it was all arranged. Now you've fucked everything up. And you probably expect me to pick up the pieces, as usual.
Me: Yeah.
Him: I just got on my train. At least i'm following the plan. Let's see if we can salvage something from this shipwreck of a sunday.
Me: Make sure you get good fucking seats at the cinema or I will set the dogs on you.
Him: Where would you like to sit?
Me: In the middle, you know where.
Fifteen minutes later
Me: And can you get some milk, please, I love you.
Him: For fuck's sake.
Me: I love you.
Him: Fuck off. You're only saying that so i'll get you some milk.
Me: No, I do.
Him: Right i've got the tickets. I'll pick up some milk. anything else i can get you? The golden fleece perhaps? The holy grail?
Me: Actually, I've decided i don't want to go to the cinema after all. I'm gonna stay in and paint some tanks. So don't bother coming over.
Him: Okay. I guess i'll see you around at some point.
Me: Don't count on it. Actually, will you put the milk on my doorstep? ring the bell so i know it's you, but fuck off immediately.
Him: If you let me in i can put the milk in the fridge for you. I wouldn't want you to over exert yourself by going all the way to the front door to pick it up.
Me: But I'd still have to get up to let you in. And I'd see you. No dice.
Him: I've left milk on window sill, i'm going back to d*****
I looked up and there was a pint of milk on the window sill.
Friday, 18 November 2011
Horse Droppings
I was standing talking to Tab the Muffer on Tuesday afternoon when I got the following text of He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named...
Him: I got given a flyer for a student 'loveshack club night'. Do you think I should go? It's just that the flyer counts as an invitation, and it would be rude to turn it down.
Me: It sounds like fun, I would go if i were you. You may see some of your students there. Then at least you'd know someone.
Him: That's true, i could hang out with them the whole evening. It wouldn't be awkward because i already know them and we could talk about medieval things.
Me: Yeah, or you could break down their latest essay marks with them. You might even get a staff discount for the door entry.
Him: Yes I have some student supervisions coming up, i could schedule them for loveshack wednesday, i think that would be most convenient for all concerned.
Me: They'd probably love you for that. They'd know you were always thinking of their education.
Him: I think i will go along. I'll let you know how it goes.
It all went quiet until Wednesday 22:12
Him: Ok, i'm at loveshack night, i think i see some of my students, i'll go and say hello
Me: Yeah, Good luck! I'm sure they'll be really excited to see you.
Him: It's pretty crowded and noisy in here. I'm waving but don't seem to have noticed me yet. I'll see if i can get closer.
Me: Are they on the dancefloor?
Him: Yes i am trying to get to them. It's really hot in here, i shouldn't have brought my jacket and jumper. I get really irritated when it's too hot.
Me: Is there a cloakroom? Or is it expensive?
Him: I don't know, i was invited here, i didn't expect it to be so hot. Just tried talking to one of my students but she walked away, it is quite dark, she probably didn't recognise me, she must just think i'm some random weirdo.
Me: Go and make sure she knows who you are. You're there for them, remember.
Him: Fucking shit this guy with her just punched me and gave me a nosebleed
Me: What the fuck? Do they know who you are?
Him: He's not one of mine, he might be her boyfriend. I've stopped the bleeding, it's ok, must just be a misunderstanding. I'll try again.
Me: Keep at it, they'll appreciate it.
Then nothing until Thursday morning 08:13
Him: I'm in a graveyard. I don't remember how I got here. And i'm wearing someone else's clothes and my wallet is missing
Me: OK first thing to do is not to panic.
Him: How am i not supposed to panic, i'm giving a lecture in half an hour, i don't even know where i am and i feel sick
Me: Can you call in sick? Surely there must be a sign near the graveyard?
Him: Right i've found my way to the lecture theatre but there's like only three students here, and one of them is crying.
Me: At least they showed up. Do you recognise any of them from last night?
Him: Hard to say, i don't remember much of it and they are all avoiding eye contact. Guess i'll give my lecture anyway, we'll see how it goes.
Me: Are you still wearing someone else's clothes? That might be it.
Him: I vomited on the slide projector and a couple of students. The head of dept wants to see me.
Me: it might have been a bad idea to go last night.
Him: I got given a flyer for a student 'loveshack club night'. Do you think I should go? It's just that the flyer counts as an invitation, and it would be rude to turn it down.
Me: It sounds like fun, I would go if i were you. You may see some of your students there. Then at least you'd know someone.
Him: That's true, i could hang out with them the whole evening. It wouldn't be awkward because i already know them and we could talk about medieval things.
Me: Yeah, or you could break down their latest essay marks with them. You might even get a staff discount for the door entry.
Him: Yes I have some student supervisions coming up, i could schedule them for loveshack wednesday, i think that would be most convenient for all concerned.
Me: They'd probably love you for that. They'd know you were always thinking of their education.
Him: I think i will go along. I'll let you know how it goes.
It all went quiet until Wednesday 22:12
Him: Ok, i'm at loveshack night, i think i see some of my students, i'll go and say hello
Me: Yeah, Good luck! I'm sure they'll be really excited to see you.
Him: It's pretty crowded and noisy in here. I'm waving but don't seem to have noticed me yet. I'll see if i can get closer.
Me: Are they on the dancefloor?
Him: Yes i am trying to get to them. It's really hot in here, i shouldn't have brought my jacket and jumper. I get really irritated when it's too hot.
Me: Is there a cloakroom? Or is it expensive?
Him: I don't know, i was invited here, i didn't expect it to be so hot. Just tried talking to one of my students but she walked away, it is quite dark, she probably didn't recognise me, she must just think i'm some random weirdo.
Me: Go and make sure she knows who you are. You're there for them, remember.
Him: Fucking shit this guy with her just punched me and gave me a nosebleed
Me: What the fuck? Do they know who you are?
Him: He's not one of mine, he might be her boyfriend. I've stopped the bleeding, it's ok, must just be a misunderstanding. I'll try again.
Me: Keep at it, they'll appreciate it.
Then nothing until Thursday morning 08:13
Him: I'm in a graveyard. I don't remember how I got here. And i'm wearing someone else's clothes and my wallet is missing
Me: OK first thing to do is not to panic.
Him: How am i not supposed to panic, i'm giving a lecture in half an hour, i don't even know where i am and i feel sick
Me: Can you call in sick? Surely there must be a sign near the graveyard?
Him: Right i've found my way to the lecture theatre but there's like only three students here, and one of them is crying.
Me: At least they showed up. Do you recognise any of them from last night?
Him: Hard to say, i don't remember much of it and they are all avoiding eye contact. Guess i'll give my lecture anyway, we'll see how it goes.
Me: Are you still wearing someone else's clothes? That might be it.
Him: I vomited on the slide projector and a couple of students. The head of dept wants to see me.
Me: it might have been a bad idea to go last night.
Thursday, 15 September 2011
Lazy Journalism
OK, it's that time that I again that I lazily write out some of the text message conversations I have had recently.
Ninjasaurus Rex is the subject of this latest tirade. He sent me a picture of a toy church he'd bought and included the message:
Him: My new toy. A sixties style happy clappy hippy church. I'm looking forward to burning it down.
Me: LOL, make sure there's a little plastic vicar in there when you do.
Him: I might use those PP nuns...
Me: Rape them first if you do.
Him: I'm too big for them to take.
Me: No, you're not. Don't flatter yourself.
Him: My wang is as big as an entire Peter Pig's nun's body, I'll have you know.
Me: No it's not, I've seen it.
Him: Your eyesight is far better than I thought then.
Me: It's microscopic.
Him: You giggy twat.
No response
Him: You four eyed nerk.
No response
Him: If you were a transvestite superhero, what powers would you have?
Me: Xray vision, invisibility and the ability to walk through walls. the only ones you need.
Him: I *know* that! I want superpowers that a transvestite superhero would want.
Me: A non clashing super hero costume?
Him: Is always being able to find an absolute bargain in the end of season sales a superpower?
Me: It is for Gok Wan.
Him: You know he's secretly straight, don't you? What a genius way to feel up loads of women and get away with it!
Me: I might try being secretly straight then.
Him: You could start by keeping your gay bear hair.
Me: It takes one to know one.
Him: You giggy twat.
No response
Him: The ability to coordinate any person's clothes with a single punch: Pow! Now you have brown shoes with your jeans!
Another one concerned He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named:
Me: Have you ever sat down and gave serious thought as to why it is that i absolutely fucking hate you?
Him: No, i hardly ever think about you.
Me: You do. You think about me all the time. Especially when you are touching yourself. There is a load of good films coming to the city screen this month. They are showing goodfellas on monday, you can crash here if you like?
Him: OK cool, I have booked my ticket, getting train down after work on monday and train back in the morning. This better be worth it or i'll kick you in the pancreas.
Me: I don't know where you are going to stay. I'm not here monday.
Him: Are you sleeping in the cinema?
Me: What cinema? I'm going on holiday on saturday for a week.
Him: Who is this?
Me: Your worst enemy.
Him: I hate you.
Then the next morning:
Him: Great. I walk into d----- for the first time since i got back. How long does it take till i see some student prick wearing a fedora? Two minutes. It isn't even term time yet. Fuck sakes. This is going to be a long year.
Me: Nail it to his fucking head. You need to make a swift and decisive statement to stop anymore of this shit.
And finally, I wrote the lyrics for this song about fourteen years ago, back then Johnny took them and changed bits and pieces so they fitted the music but they are still essentially mine and are just as relevant (to me anyway) today. Enjoy the 'Leaf.
Ninjasaurus Rex is the subject of this latest tirade. He sent me a picture of a toy church he'd bought and included the message:
Him: My new toy. A sixties style happy clappy hippy church. I'm looking forward to burning it down.
Me: LOL, make sure there's a little plastic vicar in there when you do.
Him: I might use those PP nuns...
Me: Rape them first if you do.
Him: I'm too big for them to take.
Me: No, you're not. Don't flatter yourself.
Him: My wang is as big as an entire Peter Pig's nun's body, I'll have you know.
Me: No it's not, I've seen it.
Him: Your eyesight is far better than I thought then.
Me: It's microscopic.
Him: You giggy twat.
No response
Him: You four eyed nerk.
No response
Him: If you were a transvestite superhero, what powers would you have?
Me: Xray vision, invisibility and the ability to walk through walls. the only ones you need.
Him: I *know* that! I want superpowers that a transvestite superhero would want.
Me: A non clashing super hero costume?
Him: Is always being able to find an absolute bargain in the end of season sales a superpower?
Me: It is for Gok Wan.
Him: You know he's secretly straight, don't you? What a genius way to feel up loads of women and get away with it!
Me: I might try being secretly straight then.
Him: You could start by keeping your gay bear hair.
Me: It takes one to know one.
Him: You giggy twat.
No response
Him: The ability to coordinate any person's clothes with a single punch: Pow! Now you have brown shoes with your jeans!
Another one concerned He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named:
Me: Have you ever sat down and gave serious thought as to why it is that i absolutely fucking hate you?
Him: No, i hardly ever think about you.
Me: You do. You think about me all the time. Especially when you are touching yourself. There is a load of good films coming to the city screen this month. They are showing goodfellas on monday, you can crash here if you like?
Him: OK cool, I have booked my ticket, getting train down after work on monday and train back in the morning. This better be worth it or i'll kick you in the pancreas.
Me: I don't know where you are going to stay. I'm not here monday.
Him: Are you sleeping in the cinema?
Me: What cinema? I'm going on holiday on saturday for a week.
Him: Who is this?
Me: Your worst enemy.
Him: I hate you.
Then the next morning:
Him: Great. I walk into d----- for the first time since i got back. How long does it take till i see some student prick wearing a fedora? Two minutes. It isn't even term time yet. Fuck sakes. This is going to be a long year.
Me: Nail it to his fucking head. You need to make a swift and decisive statement to stop anymore of this shit.
And finally, I wrote the lyrics for this song about fourteen years ago, back then Johnny took them and changed bits and pieces so they fitted the music but they are still essentially mine and are just as relevant (to me anyway) today. Enjoy the 'Leaf.
Saturday, 17 July 2010
One last time before Africa
I leave for Africa later today for two months, but before I do I'm going to leave you with one last post. I'm going to copy Logan Josh and a post he did a while back. Basically I went to my blog's home page and clicked on the 'next blog' link at the top to find out what Blogs are being paired to mine... I tired it three times and the results are frightening...
If you're not wearing a teal headband, what's the point really? I think this was inspired by Julie's sexy 80's high school tennis pic. Anyhow, this was done straight up in Photoshoppe, but who the hell cares??? I'll keep drawing until our new Xbox 360 arrives later this week. . . As per this recent run of figure drawings. . . Robert Conrad.
From: http://milesinada.blogspot.com/
“Change of plans,” Bolan snapped. “Follow me.”
The Executioner turned and raced with the hostage
toward a line of vehicles. A shot rang out behind
them, followed instantly by a dozen volleys.
Turning, Bolan raked the compound with a long
burst from his Steyr AUG. Mandy fumbled with her
pistol, getting off several shots, yelping as a round
stung her palm.
Reaching the motor pool, Bolan chose a jeep at
random, slid behind the wheel and gunned its
engine into snarling life as Mandy scrambled into
the shotgun seat.
“Hang on!” he said, flooring the gas pedal,
barreling through the middle of the camp to reach
the access road—and freedom.
From: http://readgoldeagle.blogspot.com/
So I still have my two teddy bears from my childhood, Big Ted and Little Ted, and since we had G they've been in his room. The other week we changed out some furniture and Big Ted moved to our dresser during the rearranging. Today, G was extra fussy at nap time so Tammy put him in our bed with her. She was downstairs when he woke up crying. When he calmed down enough to use words he wouldn't move off the bed and kept saying, "Bad bear get me!" and pointing at Big Ted. I'm a bit crushed, as that bear had to be next to me every night for me to go to sleep when I was a child. I blame Toy Story 3 with the evil bear for this... Now I have to convince G that this one is a good bear...
From: http://jtdalton.blogspot.com/
I dispair of humanity, I really do. To cheer myself up I'm going to post a load of pictures of Japanese girls:
And what could be more beautiful than that lot? Well, this:
If you're not wearing a teal headband, what's the point really? I think this was inspired by Julie's sexy 80's high school tennis pic. Anyhow, this was done straight up in Photoshoppe, but who the hell cares??? I'll keep drawing until our new Xbox 360 arrives later this week. . . As per this recent run of figure drawings. . . Robert Conrad.
From: http://milesinada.blogspot.com/
“Change of plans,” Bolan snapped. “Follow me.”
The Executioner turned and raced with the hostage
toward a line of vehicles. A shot rang out behind
them, followed instantly by a dozen volleys.
Turning, Bolan raked the compound with a long
burst from his Steyr AUG. Mandy fumbled with her
pistol, getting off several shots, yelping as a round
stung her palm.
Reaching the motor pool, Bolan chose a jeep at
random, slid behind the wheel and gunned its
engine into snarling life as Mandy scrambled into
the shotgun seat.
“Hang on!” he said, flooring the gas pedal,
barreling through the middle of the camp to reach
the access road—and freedom.
From: http://readgoldeagle.blogspot.com/
So I still have my two teddy bears from my childhood, Big Ted and Little Ted, and since we had G they've been in his room. The other week we changed out some furniture and Big Ted moved to our dresser during the rearranging. Today, G was extra fussy at nap time so Tammy put him in our bed with her. She was downstairs when he woke up crying. When he calmed down enough to use words he wouldn't move off the bed and kept saying, "Bad bear get me!" and pointing at Big Ted. I'm a bit crushed, as that bear had to be next to me every night for me to go to sleep when I was a child. I blame Toy Story 3 with the evil bear for this... Now I have to convince G that this one is a good bear...
From: http://jtdalton.blogspot.com/
I dispair of humanity, I really do. To cheer myself up I'm going to post a load of pictures of Japanese girls:
And what could be more beautiful than that lot? Well, this:
Friday, 16 October 2009
Just a Quicky
I'm going to give you baying wolves one final short post before I go off to France for the week. Before I start I have to give a big shout out to a big man; Owen, he gave me a shout on his radio show on Forge FM which he presents to a listenership of six people on Saturdays. He also asked if I'd plug his Blog for him, so here it is... 'Small and robust, the Owen is a cautious and ridiculous creature who can waste entire days just looking fantastic. He's been known to enjoy rocking and has more hair than you can comfortably imagine.' I had to do this or he would start crying again...
At work my last day's demands for cake fell on deaf ears, Lauren brought some Halloween biscuits and Wincey brought some cup cakes. There was no Cadbury's Celebrations from Sir Stanners though. He had brought Alice some when she left. I asked him why he hadn't brought me any and he said 'I like Alice.' He then poured insult on injury by offering me the last stale Jaffa Cake from the day before.
The previous post's text message theme caused quite a stir amongst my six readers, so I thought I'd have a look at some of the other text messages which I have received over the past week. I tell a lie, the first one below I recieved quite a while back but saved it as it was so good. I present them all here and assure you every single one is a genuine text message that was sent to me by one of my friends, I won't tell you who sent which ones though...
I'll allow you all to ruminate for a week on the meaning of all this...
Owen: Idiot Savant
At work my last day's demands for cake fell on deaf ears, Lauren brought some Halloween biscuits and Wincey brought some cup cakes. There was no Cadbury's Celebrations from Sir Stanners though. He had brought Alice some when she left. I asked him why he hadn't brought me any and he said 'I like Alice.' He then poured insult on injury by offering me the last stale Jaffa Cake from the day before.
Not for you, Sotheran
The previous post's text message theme caused quite a stir amongst my six readers, so I thought I'd have a look at some of the other text messages which I have received over the past week. I tell a lie, the first one below I recieved quite a while back but saved it as it was so good. I present them all here and assure you every single one is a genuine text message that was sent to me by one of my friends, I won't tell you who sent which ones though...
Yeah. He's a moral guiding light, like Ghandi or Jesus. In fact i think the final judgement will be in the form of the jeremy kyle show. It says so in the bible. There's a sketch there. Or nuremburg in the style of jeremy kyle, imagine that. 'where i come from, son, we don't kill six million jews'.
well, he'll get what's coming to him. Next time either of us see him it'll be in a German Sheiss video, tied up and crying.
I didn't give it a second thought at the time. It was only when i got back to the day centre that I realised i was wearing the ceremonial headgear mother brought back from indochina. No wonder the children on the street were lobbing stones at me! I was dressed as mekohla, the dark spirit of war
Nothing in all my days with the medicine shows prepared me for what I saw that summer. Evil was brewing under the streets of pentonville and we all knew it. No one was quite sure how it would end least of all the so called leaders of our society... Oh, wait a minute, cash in the attic is about to start.
Yo yo yo! Yeah man i had a fine weekend, saw mudhoney ended up on the golf course...hows you?
I'm thinking of making a remake of Herbie but with explicit reference to the car's nazi origins
well, he'll get what's coming to him. Next time either of us see him it'll be in a German Sheiss video, tied up and crying.
I didn't give it a second thought at the time. It was only when i got back to the day centre that I realised i was wearing the ceremonial headgear mother brought back from indochina. No wonder the children on the street were lobbing stones at me! I was dressed as mekohla, the dark spirit of war
Nothing in all my days with the medicine shows prepared me for what I saw that summer. Evil was brewing under the streets of pentonville and we all knew it. No one was quite sure how it would end least of all the so called leaders of our society... Oh, wait a minute, cash in the attic is about to start.
Yo yo yo! Yeah man i had a fine weekend, saw mudhoney ended up on the golf course...hows you?
I'm thinking of making a remake of Herbie but with explicit reference to the car's nazi origins
I'll allow you all to ruminate for a week on the meaning of all this...
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