...permutations of thoughts and desires b/twix conflabs, puzzles and generic ranting of an unusual nature; deliciously mixed with a gramme of angst, two shots of tequila and enough mashed potato to smash the London Eye into a week next Thursday...website23.
please come and visit and say hi.... make me feel wanted and all that jazz... you'll like it, i'm sure!
i am tired of tblog. i am tired of fighting to see if there is access. if it is down. if it works. if it remembers my blog after having a spaz. it never works when i am. frankly it is too frustrating and annoying to carry on. so i'm off. if you need to find me... please do... all the necessary people will know where to look. all the others can go jump. sorry rocky, a good idea. bad maintenance. i'm going to find a blog where i can just write my thoughts and dreams in the innocence of the 'net.
woooo.... got a fucking cold. got the dopes in me head. sucks the fuck. plus i gots me a broadband straight for the heart of the sun. yeah... means i am skink and suck badly. never fucking mind. what to do? who the fuck cares at the moment. i currently feel like i won't even last the year. which is horrid. i also gots me a LaunchCast radio station... which is nice nice nice niceni cneicniecineic ienncienienicnedicine... grand gignol and voodoo psychonaut. might flap it up. may well burst from within and hold the world to ransom.
got a big fat fucking cold. lemsip. duvet. sofa. 5th edition call of cthulhu. boy flu boy flu all that shite. bored. fed-up. everything's blue in this world. think i might go off to make myself more annoying to different kinds of people. mainly hippies and drug-takers. random world of the educating classes. broken words make for fractured minds. go away. i am sleepy.
i have a great idea for things to make and sell on ebay for a second income. but i'm not going to tell you what it is. but it is something to do with a selective combination of my previous posts.
if you are a genius, you could probably work it out. and i'd be well impressed. tmail, gmail, comment on what you think. might even give some of my tbucks away.
Last year, when I lost my job, I figured I'd have a go at being a teaching assistant, working at a local school and passing on my knowledge and wisdom to the next generation. Having been in business for a long time I fancied something with some soul, and meaning. Given I have done a pretty well, and had a varied past it kind of made perfect sense.
So anyway I went along to the interview, and we got talking, and it seemed to be going really well, as I have a lot of experience with heavy interviews and how to twist and control them. The teacher asked me how I would deal with the nervousness of being in front of 30 children.
Thats simple I said, I just imagine them naked. I didn't get the job.
busy week... been about doing things of an unsavoury nature... consuming vast lakes of alcohol with a bunch of mates on tuesday, librally washed down with pizza. except for me who was told that the bar had run out of pizza so had some lovely wraps instead... lucky i didn't end up drinking the absinth. Aussie Mark was well on his way to the land of the blind and the half baked after 5 shots... i slinked off home to avoid the eventual fallout.
then friends round on thursday for wine and prawns. shell a prawn, swig a wine and feast the night away. helped a mate w/ a business plan involving importing hallucinogenic rum from barbados.
last night: slept. during the day i was threatened w/ an umbrella until i sung "Don't eat yellow snow" by Frank Zappa. i couldn't remember the words, so i fled.
tonight, another bash at a funky little bar. a whole hoard of us are going. which is nice...
selective combination... lines... things to make and sell...
drinking coke. it is eating the enamel gently to make my teeth shiny like the beautiful people[TM] . Been playing guitar REAL FUCKING LOUD. has been fun. i have a great idea for things to make and sell on ebay for a second income. but i'm not going to tell you what it is. but it is something to do with a selective combination of my previous posts.
if you are a genius, you could probably work it out. and i'd be well impressed. tmail, gmail, comment on what you think. might even give some of my tbucks away.
what else. spent all day in meetings pretending to be important. is not as fun as actually being important but you CAN get away with more. need more tea. but coke will have to do.
lines and lines of it.
current playlist: Some of them are Old [Brian Eno], How High [The Charlatans], The Good Hand [Woven Hand], Goa Inside [Eat Static], Candy Everybody Wants [10,00 Maniacs], Heat Miser [Massive Attach], The Torchure Never Stops [Frank Zappa/Captain Beefheart], Asleep on a Train [MuM], Fever [The Cramps], Little Wonder [David Bowie], Psychonaut [Fields of the Nephilim].
okay, so the weekend is cool so far. saw polyphonic psree on friday. was great. danced a lot. drank a lot of JD and coke. felt happy. got up saturday and pottered round the local shops. was full of posh people. usually is. they don't live there but they shop there because its a posh area. we live here and we have the ultimate snobbery of looking down at posh people. grand. bought meat from the butchers, fruit and veg from the greengrocers and pretty much everything else from the deli or the health food shop. was really chilled out. none of this megasupermarket shite. just proper shopping. found loads of occult books in a 2nd hand bookshop. mainly golden dawn stuff. pottered about and cooked a wonderful thai green curry with all fresh ingredients. tasted fucking great. even if i say so myself. and drank loads of rum and wine. not at the same time. now today, i'm on my own and am chilling. actually i am thinking of making something out of wood to see if i can actuallly make something out of wood. y'know? i feel this urge to make something with my hands to see if i can. and then i am going to cook a roast beef dinner. and then eat it. then chill out in bed and watch a movie. probably.
okay the picture will probably go up... after i have edited out my name so i can't be traced... and the name of the book so you can't buy it... so it basically ends up some random picture that won't explain anything except to me... so i'm not going to bother...
on another note, go and see the Polyphonic Spree. they're amazing... i feel so full of love and everything. for those who don't know... they have also done the music to the film Eternas Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
if you like a band of 23 members singing the most amazing music, all wearing robes, then they;re the band for you.
i'm eating nuts and satsumas... it feels like christmas. and i'm listening to radio 4 which is harping on about some sort of competition going on in america... dunno what that's all about... fairly busy day...
i've been thinking about getting extra income to support my hard drug and whore habit. it has to be a home business that i can exploit the internet to sell my product/service.
anybody got any ideas? sensible OR daft... you may help a daft bugger out...
i usually stay away from politics, because my political ideology either riles people or bores them [i'm the only left-wing facist you'll ever come across]. but because the most important day for the planet [pretty much] had arrived, and i can't let it go w/out saying something.
right, in a nutshell: bush will win. by a margin, in a state where there's a relative or an old bum-chum can swing the vote. this will happen because that is how US politics works. [from an englander's point of view]. he may well be a warmonger but he's good with taxes and big business like him. if you want to get anywhere in a [pseudo] democratic society, business comes before anything. besides, he can afford more balloons than kerry.
Kerry, he's trying hard, but his chin is too big, he's not as photogenic, he throws like a girl and the Democratic party have been in shambles since a certain well-know family were popped in a kitchen and on a joyride. anyway, if he wins his 'advisers' will tell him to do exactly what they were going to tell Junior to do anyway... so there's no loss there.
cynical, moi? compared with UK political shennanigans, US politics is as see-thru as the bikinis worn by the hookers down Fishponds Road.
now, all of this is my opinion, and mine alone to make. i don't want either to win. like i don't want Blair [sorry, Bliar] or Howard to win for us next year. because nothing will change. politics is based on the SEP principle. we'll deal w/ it for our time in office and then it's Somebody Elses Problem. and politics will always be like that. politicans may care about people, but only in 4 year slots. which is where it falls down. there's no continuous accountability. its like trying to buy a book from a bookshop where the book you want is out of stock, the staff are all blind and every 20 minutes the shops turns into a small cafe that's giving away cakes to the upper pay bracket. and if you manage to buy the book, it's in paperback, written in chinese and by another author [okay, extended metaphor gone wrong... if you get it, i love you.]
basically, politics is the most important NOTHING you have to deal with in your life. all you have to do is mark a piece of paper, but you're gonna need a lot of odd-minded folks marking all sorts of odd pieces of paper before noticable change will take place. and that doesn't come from voting, that comes from society and education. so, when you mark whatever you mark tomorrow, think about the children, because you're already too late to help yourself. don't think for you. think for those little punks that piss about your street on their skateboards sulking to Avril Lavigne. because they're the ones that'll decide how much money care homes are gonna get.
i'm not saying i agree, but i'll leave you with this thought: the only proven effective form of successful political change stems from terrorism.
...a social experiment. come play: doubledipper. you can thank Rinna for the pictures, BroGonzo for the well crafted writing and me for the bilge. read on...
had to happen real soon didn't it? referral of the moment: midget wrestling.
i rest my case. yet nothing from my page of ranting... ho hum... perhaps i should try it again at a leter date.
the house is tidy the washing packed away... computer newly installed w/ beautiful creative software. all i need to do now is play with it [THE COMPUTER] and see what i can do.
Q: if you could only describe yourself using 5 words, what would they be?
clean the house; clean the kitchen; clean the bathroom; wash all the clothes; have a bath and eat a pork pie; clean the kitchen and bathroom again; avoid the neighbours; write a really convoluted shopping list, leave it at home like i always do, try and remember what wa on it and return w/ 3 kilo brown rick and £40 worth of fruit; forget about daylight saving and realize [thanks to toad] that you've been up for hours longer than you think you have; set fire to bins; polish the stray cats; give up on everything and listen to: The Cure, The Libertines, Julian Cope, Bauhaus, Tom Waits, Lalo Schifrin; water the plants; examine my 'story cellar/creative pile' to see if there is anything of use in it; write a list about it; go through pile again and write a completely different list; sulk because i'm not being creative enough; eat all the food in the house; think about ideas for an unusual home business; got to the shops again to replace all the food i've just eaten; forget shopping list again; return w/ 3 Kilo brown rice and £40 worth of fruit; shout at strangers; pile all our books horizontally; throw stones at gipsy kids; play ROCK AND ROLL really loudly on the gee-tar; bake a cake; call random telephone numbers and inform people that they've won 1 suqare km of space somewhere off the shoulder of Orion; record my voice and warp it through Cubase just to see what i can do with it; steal a webcam 'coz mine's fucked; avoid sleeping; chase badgers; wash tramps; kill time and blame it on convenience when the cops come round; laugh as convenience gets arrested and his house searched; stare at the wall to see if i can move it one atom to the left with the power of my mind; make ducks travel forward in time by one second; play the digeridoo; learn how to spell corektly; wash behind my ears and make sure i'm in bed at a sensible hour.
well, i have done sweet fuck all today and it has been wonderful. woke up at 8 on a lovely autumnal saturday. had one of those lie in snoozes where you drift in and out of consciousness for most of the morning. then brunch of a full english breakfast in a cafe round the corner with the love of my life. then back to bed again and sleep until 5 pm. yeah. then, after some fooling around, out to the video shop to get 25th Hour where i bump into my stoner liar mate and then back via the supermarket to buy dinner. watched the movie curled up in bed under 2 winter duvets and now just this quick blog and i'm outa here to the land of sleepy bye-bye.
an excellent quote from 25th Hour: "Champane for my real friends. Real pain for my cham friends."
i thank you. now you all go make sure you get home in one piece tonight and kiss the one you love.
when you go and see midgets wrestling, only 2 things go through your mind:
[1] what sort of person would demean themselves to play on their stature as a gimmick in order to get cheap laughs at a so-called sporting event.
and
[2] what sort of person would watch someone demean themselves playing on their stature as a gimmick in order to get cheap laughs at a so-called sporting event.
the answers to the above are:
[1] "Little Legs" [he was in Harry Potter don't you know...]
[2] Johnny Ruin
all in all though it was most entertaining. but you could tell they weren't professional because they were playing at our local soccer ground and they were really bad at acting.
big fat cocks. tblog tblog tblog. beautiful chicks. bad bad women. bound whores. free guns. survival gear. free knives. electric hookers. dancing marzipan. an electric elk called simon. frans fredinand. free U2 albums. freaky freaks. tblog. tblog. guttersnipe. big tits. scary mary from number thirty. conspiracy theories. illuminati. i hate nazi's. satan worship. god is great. john, chapter 11, verse 35. disco biscuits. nine inch nails. led zeppelin live DVD. Hunter S Thompson. Hunter S Thompson. HST. Raoul Duke. William Burroughs. Fear and Loathing. House of Leaves. good rock music. free porn. bowling meditation. blod. johnny ruin. glastonbury. how to be a hippy. unusual magical practices. peter carroll. chaos magic guide. tblog. tblog. we love tblog [when it don't crash]. free sex pcitures. FBI tagging. lockdown. the prisoner. twenty three. 23 skidoo. blowjob santa clause. graffiti guide. johnny ruin. telegram sam, you're my main man. email porn. giant cocks. rubber animals. plastic fantastic lover. scooby doo. happiness is a warm gun. yes it is. capoeira. spastics. johnny depp. jordan. katie price. the rolling stones free album giveaway. bite the weiner. mother fucker. muddy funster. clam bake. dodgy motors. take it away from me. all of this and nothing. twin peaks resource. jobbie. survivalist theory. JD salinger interview. batman games. the diceman. luke rhineheart. dice theory. robert anton wilson. philip k dick. VALIS. the machines of loving grace. richard brautigan. charles bukowski. chuck manson. marilyn monroe [see what i done there]. free stuff. michael franti. toad is the best.
right. that's weirded out the search engines. see if this causes any more weird links to my blog. any more for any more?
wrestling migets... reference... angels... stuff i've done...
right, if i'm lucky this weekend i am off to watch midget wrestling. that wrestling, with midgets.
i'm just not sure why.
been playing really good music these past couple of days. but then what i consider good is not necessarily what you consider good. but to me it was the best. well done me.
read a good book over the weekend: Angels and Demons, Dan Brown. was really good. had the vatican in it, and CERN and Angels and a BAD MAN and the illuminati and all sorts of strangeness... very much like Michael Crichton taking all the bad acid and hanging out with umberto eco.
if you get that reference, i love you.
sleepy and chilled... will be spending most of the month of november locked away in our house away from the chill wind that is sweeping across our country and in through our letterbox.
i've taped it shut and told the postman to piss off until spring. so only emails for poor old johnny...
nothing exciting has happened recently except for: ataching a real plastic skull with flashing red eyes to my keyring, putting a deposit on a kukhri, drawing a pretty picture of a thing, watching all of 'the box of delights', getting real absinth smuggled out of prague for me, danced on a stony beach at midnight, kissed under a slivery moon, walked the light fantastic, shouted at a fat man that looked like shreck, made a series of complete strangers realise that i think slightly differently than most people, shouted at paypal, shouted at the bank and wangled £40 out of them, thought about books a lot, sung kareoke across my country at the top of my lungs at 95mph, came to several definite conclusions, decided on a ring, stole french CD's, cried at death, laughed at danger, ate until my liver burst, stared too long into space, felt like the backend of tomorrow, and found a penny on the floor.
can't believe john peel is dead. the best DJ the world has ever seen. the tribute shows are playing now: the clash, the specials, nirvana, pulp, the fall, the undertones, dead kennedeys, the damned, pere ubu, roni size, orbital, supergrass, and so much more...
it is a very sad day. just some radio Dj has died, and it has totaly cut me up... i am totally gutted. like a relative had died. i am so spun out how much this has affected me.
