Moving house
I have moved to http://swedophilia.blogspot.com
posted by Swedophilia at 5:42 AM
0 comments
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Druckqa
On the day before this night plus fourteen days ago I made a decision that I assume most people in my position ponder or glance at after having lived an invariably care free, drug flowing, sporadic sleeping and eating cycled student existence, with little respect for ones health and well being for the best part of 3 years.
- Am I doing this all too much?
- What else could I be engaged in right now and with whom?
- Would I be having a better time?
- Actually, am I even enjoying this anymore, or is it simply a routine that myself and a number of close friends, friends and friends of friends have gotten ourselves glued to?
- How long has all this been going on for?!
Yes, when these types of questions start piling up inside your brain – At a point in the morning when you’re in a state of mind that technically constitutes an ‘up’. The point where you should be in full throes of serving up a sweaty dance jig or in an emotionally, outpouring gabfest.- they eventually guide you to make a decision. A decision that you are now going to begin to start thinking about making a decision. A decision as to whether you can be arsed changing anything or will simply let go of an idea and get stuck back to the same old routine by the pot.
I meant glue pot, but now that you mention it I’ve been wondering recently whether weed is as strong an ally as I once thought. Maybe he doesn’t always have my best interests at heart. Maybe I should sanction some tighter checks and controls upon him, until I’ve received some fresh intelligence that isn’t five years outmoded anyway……………………………………………………………
Is he secretly plotting against me? Is this starting to sound less like a battle and more like a war? Dramatic perhaps, also, frightening perhaps. At least I’m beginning to feel more cemented internally right now for pursuing these passing thoughts.
The two easiest and most obvious proposals made themselves known. One, to limit substance intake allowance to a finite number of munchin’, stompin’ nights out per month (This means As and Bs. Weed to only be sampled when helping in alleviating and soothing the aftermath of said nights out.)
The other plan hangs itself upon booking off a rest period for a set amount of months or allowing yourself to drift unguided into the unknown, possibly heady ether of the non-druggie realm and follow its untravelled path to the end. We’re all on the path, separated only by different points and locations. Flittering and dithering at some point on the line between either side: to take drugs or not to take drugs. Each side is like a magnet and the side we closest stray to ‘tises and claims our scalp, until we arrive at this same fork again at some distant point.
Surprisingly, the number of times I have selected the Cut it down not Cut it out methodology evades me. What did I base these cut it down selections on……………?
Well, it’s just easier really.
You get that same invigorating, self-satisfying buzz you feel when you wave goodbye to any detrimental habit that you fear maybe trying to drag you back into a world which you are weary of. You get all this whilst at the same time receiving that same invigorating, self-satisfying buzz that you get from your speckled and coloured new best friends down at the old discotechque. Aha, you win on 2 fronts now, plus, it all comes guilt free! You consume less and less means more. More free days, nights, to give life a clear head and use that clarity to nudge yourself in a different direction. Times when you actually have a weekend instead of a sleepless, heavy night followed by a few hours kip, then proceeded by a none-day that has to be declared a write off because you aren’t physically or mentally capacitated to do anything. Anything bar mooching about someone’s place, listening to tunes whilst chewing the phat with your closest chums (And any other additions that have been acquired during the night’s proceedings.)
You smoke spliff after spliff smoking shitloads of skunk and after you stumble part way to your home you suddenly feel as you felt once before. The same as you did as you turned then looked up as your saviour first signals then says, “ Take this spliff.”
The herb can only feebily slap back the pervasive, downwardly dragging hands of the tablets , not sever them completely. Still, was the right thing to do even if you do arrive home un-caned. You are now tired and can realistically attempt sleep. You deflected the worst of the trauma away in an unaware, hazy cloud amongst friends. (You won’t be tired if you decided to take speed. If you ever find yourself wide awake and alone after phet then I often find a book helps to dampen those demons. Perhaps also listen to PWEI who after completing a seven year reign were asked what advice to give to any aspiring bandsters advised ”Don’t smoke speed”)
You then lie in bed, fragile and numb. Safe in the knowledge that tomorrow the biggest problems you will face are getting out of bed and whether to eat or not. At the end of tomorrow you experience a gratifying sense of relief that you have spent 2 days blissfully unaware and out of touch. Separated from a general society whose uninvited, out-thrust hands promise you your dreams if you join them, but instead pin one arm behind your back whilst making you sign away your precious life to them with the other. They nail your feet to the ground. The ground is the mortgage they so eagerly enslave you to for 25 years. They’ll keep working on you; slowly chipping off chunks and demanding whatever they desire off of you. Be it money, compliance or your consent to let them do whatever they want. If you remain in the dark thinking everything’s fine, accepting everything they ask of you without question, without thinking in fact then they won’t bother you in any other form. As long as you play by their rules you’ll think you are a free subject living within a free democracy. For all the slick promises they deliver nothing. Nothing except debt and depression. The only guarantee is that they’ll grip you round the neck and start to squeeze, constricting you tighter and tighter until you are left gasping for air, unable to consider anything except what a dire situation you find yourself in.
Some of you may read this and see parts myself in you. Some of you may label me as misguided, a waster who needs to grow up. I see it as having felt lost, distant and disassociated from a large part of the population who all I seem to see from are petty, selfish, close minded views. People whose only conception of a standard night out is excessive drinking, appalling come on tactics, and pissed arguments coupled with post club head smashing that we have all come to accept as the ‘norm.’ People who care more about the welfare, fortunes and misfortunes of “contestants” on shows such as Big brother, Pop idol, than their own next door neighbours or any random people they encounter on the street. It makes sense to care more about a reality tv show contestant, who you’ve never met, than another person who you physically encounter and could change your life and who is living a REAL life, complete with REAL decisions and consequences that you could play a part of. Ever sat on a bus on your own? Ever got caught up in listening to other people’s tedious small talk, talk that is perfectly fine for them to dicuss because it refers to people and experiences that the have been privy. Has what you have heard said ever comes across to you as…….. irritating bollocks that is of no gain or consequence to you? Ever thought that, forgotten about it and then gone home to sit in front of BB, wide eyed and desperately waiting for one of those crucial updates to ascertain whether the team passed the task this week. If they don’t pass the task they have no money and can’t buy food and definitely, definitely not alcohol.
One week goes by.
“Bit stale?”
‘mmm, yes. I’ve been feeling that’
“What do you suggest?”
“I know. Should we set a topic of discussion for the house mates to debate? Share certain experiences, talk about relevant issues facing the world today. That way the viewers can gain a deeper insight into the true personality of each character, sorry, contestant, and then make a truly informed decision about who genuinely deserves the prize money. What do you say”
‘I say that involves getting up early for an afternoon meeting. Besides the British public don’t want to be intellectually challenged and stimulated by their favourite characters. They want to see them hammered out of their faces, making tits out of themselves and hopefully offending one or two of the squares we strategically placed there to react to all the piss ups we set up.’
“Fuck it. Big brother is omnipotent. Ignore the written code and flood the house with alcohol. Anyway, I just remembered I’ve got £50 riding on Dazza and Tina being the first 2 people in British broadcasting history to openly join together in an act of public, tv, felching.”
When I see atrocities such as this happening willy nilly all around me it makes me feel distant and want to look for a different life. Drugs aren’t dooper, They’re a different kind of outstretched arms, ok this time only wanting to give you a hug, but they claim to offer you a happy world if you give yourself to it. I only want to go there when I wanna take a couple of days off and can’t be arsed entertaining myself. Drugs may have been the wrong choice, personally, I would say definitely not. You might say I was wrong to choose to take drugs, but I think you may have been wrong when you chose to run to those arms which hold you back in a way you may never wake up to. At least I know who my potential enemies parading themselves around as friends are. Do You? Yes, I think that it shall be a drug free summer. I look forward to seeing where I end up.
lives of people who are paraded around on reality Tv shows on “ ‘Celebrity’ wrestling” than their nextdoor neighbours
Losing cont
Right before you did before you smoked that first spliff
Drugs aren’t dooper. They’re just an easy escape route you take if you wanna take a couple of days off and can’t be arsed to entertain yourself.
- Am I doing this all too much?
- What else could I be engaged in right now and with whom?
- Would I be having a better time?
- Actually, am I even enjoying this anymore, or is it simply a routine that myself and a number of close friends, friends and friends of friends have gotten ourselves glued to?
- How long has all this been going on for?!
Yes, when these types of questions start piling up inside your brain – At a point in the morning when you’re in a state of mind that technically constitutes an ‘up’. The point where you should be in full throes of serving up a sweaty dance jig or in an emotionally, outpouring gabfest.- they eventually guide you to make a decision. A decision that you are now going to begin to start thinking about making a decision. A decision as to whether you can be arsed changing anything or will simply let go of an idea and get stuck back to the same old routine by the pot.
I meant glue pot, but now that you mention it I’ve been wondering recently whether weed is as strong an ally as I once thought. Maybe he doesn’t always have my best interests at heart. Maybe I should sanction some tighter checks and controls upon him, until I’ve received some fresh intelligence that isn’t five years outmoded anyway……………………………………………………………
Is he secretly plotting against me? Is this starting to sound less like a battle and more like a war? Dramatic perhaps, also, frightening perhaps. At least I’m beginning to feel more cemented internally right now for pursuing these passing thoughts.
The two easiest and most obvious proposals made themselves known. One, to limit substance intake allowance to a finite number of munchin’, stompin’ nights out per month (This means As and Bs. Weed to only be sampled when helping in alleviating and soothing the aftermath of said nights out.)
The other plan hangs itself upon booking off a rest period for a set amount of months or allowing yourself to drift unguided into the unknown, possibly heady ether of the non-druggie realm and follow its untravelled path to the end. We’re all on the path, separated only by different points and locations. Flittering and dithering at some point on the line between either side: to take drugs or not to take drugs. Each side is like a magnet and the side we closest stray to ‘tises and claims our scalp, until we arrive at this same fork again at some distant point.
Surprisingly, the number of times I have selected the Cut it down not Cut it out methodology evades me. What did I base these cut it down selections on……………?
Well, it’s just easier really.
You get that same invigorating, self-satisfying buzz you feel when you wave goodbye to any detrimental habit that you fear maybe trying to drag you back into a world which you are weary of. You get all this whilst at the same time receiving that same invigorating, self-satisfying buzz that you get from your speckled and coloured new best friends down at the old discotechque. Aha, you win on 2 fronts now, plus, it all comes guilt free! You consume less and less means more. More free days, nights, to give life a clear head and use that clarity to nudge yourself in a different direction. Times when you actually have a weekend instead of a sleepless, heavy night followed by a few hours kip, then proceeded by a none-day that has to be declared a write off because you aren’t physically or mentally capacitated to do anything. Anything bar mooching about someone’s place, listening to tunes whilst chewing the phat with your closest chums (And any other additions that have been acquired during the night’s proceedings.)
You smoke spliff after spliff smoking shitloads of skunk and after you stumble part way to your home you suddenly feel as you felt once before. The same as you did as you turned then looked up as your saviour first signals then says, “ Take this spliff.”
The herb can only feebily slap back the pervasive, downwardly dragging hands of the tablets , not sever them completely. Still, was the right thing to do even if you do arrive home un-caned. You are now tired and can realistically attempt sleep. You deflected the worst of the trauma away in an unaware, hazy cloud amongst friends. (You won’t be tired if you decided to take speed. If you ever find yourself wide awake and alone after phet then I often find a book helps to dampen those demons. Perhaps also listen to PWEI who after completing a seven year reign were asked what advice to give to any aspiring bandsters advised ”Don’t smoke speed”)
You then lie in bed, fragile and numb. Safe in the knowledge that tomorrow the biggest problems you will face are getting out of bed and whether to eat or not. At the end of tomorrow you experience a gratifying sense of relief that you have spent 2 days blissfully unaware and out of touch. Separated from a general society whose uninvited, out-thrust hands promise you your dreams if you join them, but instead pin one arm behind your back whilst making you sign away your precious life to them with the other. They nail your feet to the ground. The ground is the mortgage they so eagerly enslave you to for 25 years. They’ll keep working on you; slowly chipping off chunks and demanding whatever they desire off of you. Be it money, compliance or your consent to let them do whatever they want. If you remain in the dark thinking everything’s fine, accepting everything they ask of you without question, without thinking in fact then they won’t bother you in any other form. As long as you play by their rules you’ll think you are a free subject living within a free democracy. For all the slick promises they deliver nothing. Nothing except debt and depression. The only guarantee is that they’ll grip you round the neck and start to squeeze, constricting you tighter and tighter until you are left gasping for air, unable to consider anything except what a dire situation you find yourself in.
Some of you may read this and see parts myself in you. Some of you may label me as misguided, a waster who needs to grow up. I see it as having felt lost, distant and disassociated from a large part of the population who all I seem to see from are petty, selfish, close minded views. People whose only conception of a standard night out is excessive drinking, appalling come on tactics, and pissed arguments coupled with post club head smashing that we have all come to accept as the ‘norm.’ People who care more about the welfare, fortunes and misfortunes of “contestants” on shows such as Big brother, Pop idol, than their own next door neighbours or any random people they encounter on the street. It makes sense to care more about a reality tv show contestant, who you’ve never met, than another person who you physically encounter and could change your life and who is living a REAL life, complete with REAL decisions and consequences that you could play a part of. Ever sat on a bus on your own? Ever got caught up in listening to other people’s tedious small talk, talk that is perfectly fine for them to dicuss because it refers to people and experiences that the have been privy. Has what you have heard said ever comes across to you as…….. irritating bollocks that is of no gain or consequence to you? Ever thought that, forgotten about it and then gone home to sit in front of BB, wide eyed and desperately waiting for one of those crucial updates to ascertain whether the team passed the task this week. If they don’t pass the task they have no money and can’t buy food and definitely, definitely not alcohol.
One week goes by.
“Bit stale?”
‘mmm, yes. I’ve been feeling that’
“What do you suggest?”
“I know. Should we set a topic of discussion for the house mates to debate? Share certain experiences, talk about relevant issues facing the world today. That way the viewers can gain a deeper insight into the true personality of each character, sorry, contestant, and then make a truly informed decision about who genuinely deserves the prize money. What do you say”
‘I say that involves getting up early for an afternoon meeting. Besides the British public don’t want to be intellectually challenged and stimulated by their favourite characters. They want to see them hammered out of their faces, making tits out of themselves and hopefully offending one or two of the squares we strategically placed there to react to all the piss ups we set up.’
“Fuck it. Big brother is omnipotent. Ignore the written code and flood the house with alcohol. Anyway, I just remembered I’ve got £50 riding on Dazza and Tina being the first 2 people in British broadcasting history to openly join together in an act of public, tv, felching.”
When I see atrocities such as this happening willy nilly all around me it makes me feel distant and want to look for a different life. Drugs aren’t dooper, They’re a different kind of outstretched arms, ok this time only wanting to give you a hug, but they claim to offer you a happy world if you give yourself to it. I only want to go there when I wanna take a couple of days off and can’t be arsed entertaining myself. Drugs may have been the wrong choice, personally, I would say definitely not. You might say I was wrong to choose to take drugs, but I think you may have been wrong when you chose to run to those arms which hold you back in a way you may never wake up to. At least I know who my potential enemies parading themselves around as friends are. Do You? Yes, I think that it shall be a drug free summer. I look forward to seeing where I end up.
lives of people who are paraded around on reality Tv shows on “ ‘Celebrity’ wrestling” than their nextdoor neighbours
Losing cont
Right before you did before you smoked that first spliff
Drugs aren’t dooper. They’re just an easy escape route you take if you wanna take a couple of days off and can’t be arsed to entertain yourself.
posted by Swedophilia at 1:58 PM
0 comments
Thursday, April 28, 2005
This wasn't supposed to happen
Pointy stick,
Hey there.
I've not been avoiding you, I never seem to have time to send anyone a proper e-mail even though all my time is free..... slightly non-sensical. I'm finding everything strange. Last year I slept all day,was tired all the time, paranoid of everything and my quality of life was pretty much zero. I still had a few friends but couldn't make any new ones and was terrified of everyone. I felt worthless and there was no point to anything.The days were so long and boring, I'd pray for it all to end so I could go back to sleep. I occasionally dreamed of a time when I would never wake and be concious again, forced by my own time. One of my friends made me promise that I would never do it and so I remained.... I am glad.
Now?
I'm less tired and I sleep less but I'm all over the place. Sometimes I believe in myself..... that I can do anything and nothing can stop me on my way. I'm hyper and i'll chew peoples ears off. I can make anyone like me and want to be my friend. I can make people think I'm anything I want them to think and I act in different ways around different people.............I use the word act but it is all me, genuine.....It's the way I really feel and it changes all the time.....I'm scatty like this e-mail and my emotions/opinions are constantly fluctuating. I'll enjoy to make someone hate me or hold a certain opinion of me. Maybe i'm complicated........maybe other people are too simple. If I wanted to I could handle people. I have an intelligent, sinister side to me which could be very dangerous. I choose not to absue it and make my life brutally honest.
I am honest with people (Except jobs) and that leaves me open to attack and hurt but I don't care.I hate lies, the truth is beautiful but people find it hard to take.If you say something that isn't a run of the mill/status quo comment you are attacked and singled out by the majority. The stupid majority. They hold opinions on important matters that they actually know nothing about. The way the Government works for example...their general view of the world. They're either stupid or afraid of the truth. They're brain washed and conditioned by television, schools, their parents and by society. I KNOW this country is a shit hole... that we're slaves to a Government that claims to serve us, saying we are their masters. It sure doesn't feel that way to me. There's something in the bible saying that when the servant becomes the master it is the devils work. We are slaves. You're expected to be a slave to a life you never even chose to subscribe to. Slaves to our jobs, mortgage, money, debt. I didn't ask to be born, I didn't ask to be made a citizen, oh, sorry, subject of this country. We live in a "demoracy"... so where was my choice? On that wonderful day, that big day when your national insurance card comes and you get your nice little number. It's a proud day, isn't it? Makes you feel part of something. That's our employee number, the number a master gives to his property. We are owned by the Government whose actions are dictated by banks and corporations whose only interest is....and this is tough.... oh yeah! Money, not people. is that why everything is so fucked up, possibly, do you think? If you go along, leading a boring existence that is expected of you then they leave you alone. If you swallow and believe their "education" play by their rules then you will be rewarded.
Rewarded by being left with your "freedom" to exist in this country. Free to be robbed of the precious minutes and hours that make up your life, possibly you're only life. Free to be raped of the majority of your hard earnt cash via taxes, stealth taxes and charges that you just lay down and accept. You're a model, upstanding citizen because you've never had a parking ticket...you pay your taxes on time and you've held the same job for 50 years......you love your country and why not?
Britain is great!
Just think of all that history that they teach you about our great country. My first memories of history are the battle of hastings, world war one and world war two. You may wonder why they would do this? It's because they want you from an early age to accept that war is NORMAL and not to question it. Oh look, we've had wars for thousands of years, it's just what people do, accept it.
But,What else can we do?
we could make guns a child's toy so they can go around pretending to shoot each other. children aren't impressionable, they won't think guns are cool or right. Let's make children want to be policemen and army men. What a noble occupation. Those fucking KNOB head parents on the news, blubbering that their child got killed in a war.
Hello?
Hello?
What did you think was going to happen to them when they joined the army?! It's not exactly the most risk free of occupations.
oh, but weren't they brave?
They ply their trade by only fighting against opponents with vastly inferior, outdated weapons whilst they hide behind their technologically superior, armoured vehicles and kill people from mind boggling distances. They move a joystick and press a button like a computer game. That's how they end lives. They invade a country and terrorise its citizens destroying civilian buildings, services and people. They protect the important things, such as the oil wells and leave everyone else to fend for themselves in an inferno. That doesn't sound brave at all....in fact it sounds like cowardice. They fought for no cause. They have no honour.
None of you died for me
None of you have protected anybody
None of you died in my name so I could prosper
None of you died for this fucking country.
You're only cause is to pursue the increase of numbers on a computer screen. A screen dislpaying various peoples cash hoardes. A screen displaying money that doesn't really exist. You died so people who have so much money that they could never possibly spend it...have...more money. It's all good though. It's not like there are people in the world who have no money or anything. Our leaders are good like that. Nice and fair. It's not like people would do anything for money.
You're a corporate army motivated by land, power and control. Not by ethics, morals or by doing the right thing. You died because you were tricked, tricked by a Government that promises to care for you and only use you when completely necessary. As soon as you join they shout and berrate you. Why? So that you obey orders without questioning. If Tony Blair or George Bush declared martial law would you slay your "own" people in the streets........probably yes and without battering an eyelid. I'm not saying the army would want to, but a convenient excuse would be raised to justify it. Terrorism, anarchy, the collapse of society! The people you were employed to protect.
When the media put your family on the television it's because pulling at the emotion strings sells. They don't care about you or me
No, I'm sorry, I was wrong before. Had a little rant and now my argument has come unstuck. We ARE the masters of the Government and they do what we tell them. When 2,000,000 people march to the capital stating they are against an illegal war, didn't they listen? I mean, they're are servants, I know that. It's not like they should ask us if they are going to declare war. A war that causes unimaginable damage to millions of people, takes billions of pounds of our hard earnt taxes away from us. We don't need that money for this country, we're so developed and all.
No, it makes sense to call a general election for a one party state and give everyone a vote. That's an important vote and it could really change this country.............it affects people's lives. All those differences between the parties. If we'd have just taken more care last time and voted in the conservatives then everything would be drastically different. Education would be degrading, the NHS "failing" and we would have gone to war with Iraq...............the LIberal democrats would ahve done all of the above, except for different reasons.
It's important to have a vote for such monumentous decisions. A war though? Nah, fuck it. No one cares about that. Too minor an issue ....they wouldn't be bothered about that....would they...nah....we'll make that decision for us. That's why they employ us. Wouldn't want to piss them off though so we'd better not start fucking with the really important thigns in life....like..... fox hunting. That's the kind of shit that could cause a revolution and a storming of parliament. The British people are passionate.
God, we're such polite, caring, upstanding, well to do lot. We know what's right and we're not savage at all.
Not like all those savages who live in other countries.
They're so lazy that they can't be arsed to put their designer clothes on or do their make up properly.They don't even bother waft the flies away from their faces when the cameras are on them, how embarrassing. Actually, the more I think about it the more I hate them because they never smile or horse around and entertain me by talking shit and that's what I expect from my television "entertainment".They're lazy, stupid farmers and that's why they have no food....I think....I think that's what causes it..... but I can't be arsed to find out why. It's nothing to do with me anyway, we give them so much aid. All that lovely, no strings attached aid......
Idiots! I bet they don't even know what WAP is!
How un-Kewl.
Why don't they just sort themselves out instead of taking up thirty seconds of our news coverage with all their silly little problems? So self absorbed, there's someone here trying to prevent me from gallavanting around the country with my inbred, genetically unsound, toff mates, tooting on my horn and letting my pack of vicious dogs tear another animal to shreds. That's what really gets my blood boiling.
Hate the Government?
Hate this country?
Feel powerless to change it and so go along because everyone else goes along with it. Nobody else could feel this same way? Could they? Anyway, I have a job and so I'll accept it and let someone else deal with it.
You accept it because you're tired.
You're tired because you work at least 5 days a week.
You spend most of your life with colleagues you had no say in picking and who probably make you feel dead inside. When you get home you're awake but your mind is tired and you are hungry. The easiest thing is to turn on the television because you don't have to think and it tells you what to think. You've had a hard day and your brain can't handle anything else. Why is all the really good programmes on really late when peoplle who have to work are in bed? Why is all the crappy soaps, reality TV shows, celebrity wrestling on at prime time. Why would the Government want us to be stupid? They'd never take the piss out of us.
When the weekend comes you're so fucked fof with it all that all you wanna do is get pissed. And do all those annoying, crappy jobs you never had enough time to do during the week. Shopping, housework. You don't need to have fun because there's no time and you can't change that.
... we're not developed..... look at the people you see in the street, listen to what they say and what they think. It's pretty fucking scary and I'm not talking about all the fear induced CRIME and TERRORISM. We're a stupid country, the majority of us are brain dead louts who worship lager, soaps and porn. Our cities are shit holes....look at our European neighbours. Ever go abroad, look at the buildings, the city designs, the attitude of the people and think.....just think.......... We have a terrible reputation around the world for violence, ignorance and being ugly. Britain is shit, British is shit. We all secretly know it.
St. George's day? Anyone
St. who?
When?
I only celebrate St. Patrick's day and guinness even though I think they are all potato eating thickos.
To our credit, we're not American. Those patriotic, flag flucking, national anthem singing peeps.
The only thing that unites us is when England play football. Those great days, Does anyone else sense a horrifyingly, tense aurora...a strange, unwholesome atmosphere on the day of an England match. The British attitude is amazing though, I think anyway. We expect that we deserve to be the best footballing nation in the world, even though we're not good....we do claim to have invented it though.... Right, so if we win a competition people would say:
"About fucking time"
If we lose they say
"I fucking knew it."
Then they go round destroying their towns and cities, twatting their fellow countrymen because they feel for England so much.
When I feel all powerful everything goes my way to the point it feels like someone has planned it, or written some film script for me. I'm sure some of the incidents that happen to me on a regular basis do not happen to most people and they could never even imagine it. Weird characters approach me in the street and want to be my friend. My life seems to be leading somewhere, I can't put my finger on it. I know I need to act in some way.....am I looking for a sign......would I even pick up on it. My days just disappear, I seem really busy but it feels like i've achieved nothing and there's so much to do. Sometimes I'm really confident and I can handle all situations that are thrown at me to the point of people perceiving it as arrogance. I place myself in situations so I can get myself out: it's as if there's a part of me that's egging me on to prove myself, that I can do things. Who am I trying to prove it too and why? There's always something nagging at my brain and I can never relax, I'm always on edge. I don't know the meaning of the word satisfied and after last week I realise I've not experienced the emotion of being happy for 2 years. I have no point of references regarding anything.....I can't remember how I felt last year, thankfully, or if I'm getting better or worse.
I don't know my own mind or what I feel. Am I alone? Am I ill? Am I in someway on a lower rung to a realisation or enlightenment? How can anyone ever truly understand another person?
It seems one of the only thing that can make me approach a state of happy is to help other people.....how long will that be enough for.I get bored of things so quickly....yet I'm lazy....why don't I realise my potential. Why don't most people..........
Ignorance is bliss. If I was like the people I talk about I would be less stressed and possibly happier. Is this a curse or a blessing to know all this and feel so trapped? Possibly. That's what they want me to feel. I'm not alone, I'm in a minority. Where are my allies?
Sometimes I cry and I don't know why.
Sometimes being in a room with other people makes me afraid.
What is it you think you see in my eyes?
Sometimes I'll stare at you with an uncomfortable intensity and you may wish you were strong like you think I am.
Sometimes I'll stare a blank, forlorn gaze and you may think I have debilitating troubles.
Sometimes I'll meet a stranger and bare my soul.
When I get close to a person I freeze up and can't let them get too close.
Sometimes I think I want people to like me
If people do like me I question why and get upset.
Sometimes I feel worthless.
Sometimes I feel ten times you.
Sometimes I feel so low and agitated there is nothing in the world that will make it ok. I want to run for a long time.
Sometimes I have to stop myself form doing things that come into my head
I could be the first person on mars and I wouldn't give a shit. I wouldn't feel happy or special.
If you pissed me off sufficiently I would show you pain you'd probably never imagined and then killl you with no qualms, no feeling, no pangs of guilt or upset. Why? Because you deserved it?
I have many feelings and would consider myself sensitive. Maybe I follow my own moral code and guide to life to a certain extent.
My eyes and brain hurt. My brain hurts because i'm exercising it and that pleases me. I'm slow. I think I've been here for 2 hours now. I won't check what I have written for mistakes, coherency or anything. I hadn't even planned to write any of this. I was writing asn e-mail to a friend and all of this came from nowhere. If I actually spent some time with these ideas, to develop them I might have something interesting to say...... if...
This all seems hopeless. It isn't. The people have the power. All of this could change...we ened to realise and think first. The people who go on Marchs also need to think. There were 2,000,000 of us, we could have brought that city to a standstill for days and they woudl ahve given in. Do you not see? All your little planned marchs with the exact time and then you all go on the coach home feeling good about yourselves. Do I even trust those anti-war people, begging you not to cause trouble. How will anything change then? Whose side are you on? Or are your glorious leaders going to get arrested if it kicks off.
So?
I think this is my first proper rant. That Bmx one pales in comparison. Still need to finish that....this is more important. I'm going to have a break now before I start writing about what I actually planned to come on here and write about after I had sent the quick E-mail :-)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This lack of access to the internet makes me sad. I really wish I had posted about this topic for every day that it happened. The days have passed, as have the feelings though they have morphed as time goes on and I can only comment on how I feel about it right now. Obviously everything has changed, as it does every day, and my memory has faded and my words will not do justice to the way that I feel/felt about this girl.............no...........it makes me too sad and although I'm on a nice flow I'd rather have a clearer, fresher head to begin.
It's 4:30 am. I might only allow myself four hours sleep every day for a week and see what happens to me.
Feel drained, low.......................................if I crawl in my bed and lie there I may go to sleep and hopefully I won't dream those horrible dreams.
Hey there.
I've not been avoiding you, I never seem to have time to send anyone a proper e-mail even though all my time is free..... slightly non-sensical. I'm finding everything strange. Last year I slept all day,was tired all the time, paranoid of everything and my quality of life was pretty much zero. I still had a few friends but couldn't make any new ones and was terrified of everyone. I felt worthless and there was no point to anything.The days were so long and boring, I'd pray for it all to end so I could go back to sleep. I occasionally dreamed of a time when I would never wake and be concious again, forced by my own time. One of my friends made me promise that I would never do it and so I remained.... I am glad.
Now?
I'm less tired and I sleep less but I'm all over the place. Sometimes I believe in myself..... that I can do anything and nothing can stop me on my way. I'm hyper and i'll chew peoples ears off. I can make anyone like me and want to be my friend. I can make people think I'm anything I want them to think and I act in different ways around different people.............I use the word act but it is all me, genuine.....It's the way I really feel and it changes all the time.....I'm scatty like this e-mail and my emotions/opinions are constantly fluctuating. I'll enjoy to make someone hate me or hold a certain opinion of me. Maybe i'm complicated........maybe other people are too simple. If I wanted to I could handle people. I have an intelligent, sinister side to me which could be very dangerous. I choose not to absue it and make my life brutally honest.
I am honest with people (Except jobs) and that leaves me open to attack and hurt but I don't care.I hate lies, the truth is beautiful but people find it hard to take.If you say something that isn't a run of the mill/status quo comment you are attacked and singled out by the majority. The stupid majority. They hold opinions on important matters that they actually know nothing about. The way the Government works for example...their general view of the world. They're either stupid or afraid of the truth. They're brain washed and conditioned by television, schools, their parents and by society. I KNOW this country is a shit hole... that we're slaves to a Government that claims to serve us, saying we are their masters. It sure doesn't feel that way to me. There's something in the bible saying that when the servant becomes the master it is the devils work. We are slaves. You're expected to be a slave to a life you never even chose to subscribe to. Slaves to our jobs, mortgage, money, debt. I didn't ask to be born, I didn't ask to be made a citizen, oh, sorry, subject of this country. We live in a "demoracy"... so where was my choice? On that wonderful day, that big day when your national insurance card comes and you get your nice little number. It's a proud day, isn't it? Makes you feel part of something. That's our employee number, the number a master gives to his property. We are owned by the Government whose actions are dictated by banks and corporations whose only interest is....and this is tough.... oh yeah! Money, not people. is that why everything is so fucked up, possibly, do you think? If you go along, leading a boring existence that is expected of you then they leave you alone. If you swallow and believe their "education" play by their rules then you will be rewarded.
Rewarded by being left with your "freedom" to exist in this country. Free to be robbed of the precious minutes and hours that make up your life, possibly you're only life. Free to be raped of the majority of your hard earnt cash via taxes, stealth taxes and charges that you just lay down and accept. You're a model, upstanding citizen because you've never had a parking ticket...you pay your taxes on time and you've held the same job for 50 years......you love your country and why not?
Britain is great!
Just think of all that history that they teach you about our great country. My first memories of history are the battle of hastings, world war one and world war two. You may wonder why they would do this? It's because they want you from an early age to accept that war is NORMAL and not to question it. Oh look, we've had wars for thousands of years, it's just what people do, accept it.
But,What else can we do?
we could make guns a child's toy so they can go around pretending to shoot each other. children aren't impressionable, they won't think guns are cool or right. Let's make children want to be policemen and army men. What a noble occupation. Those fucking KNOB head parents on the news, blubbering that their child got killed in a war.
Hello?
Hello?
What did you think was going to happen to them when they joined the army?! It's not exactly the most risk free of occupations.
oh, but weren't they brave?
They ply their trade by only fighting against opponents with vastly inferior, outdated weapons whilst they hide behind their technologically superior, armoured vehicles and kill people from mind boggling distances. They move a joystick and press a button like a computer game. That's how they end lives. They invade a country and terrorise its citizens destroying civilian buildings, services and people. They protect the important things, such as the oil wells and leave everyone else to fend for themselves in an inferno. That doesn't sound brave at all....in fact it sounds like cowardice. They fought for no cause. They have no honour.
None of you died for me
None of you have protected anybody
None of you died in my name so I could prosper
None of you died for this fucking country.
You're only cause is to pursue the increase of numbers on a computer screen. A screen dislpaying various peoples cash hoardes. A screen displaying money that doesn't really exist. You died so people who have so much money that they could never possibly spend it...have...more money. It's all good though. It's not like there are people in the world who have no money or anything. Our leaders are good like that. Nice and fair. It's not like people would do anything for money.
You're a corporate army motivated by land, power and control. Not by ethics, morals or by doing the right thing. You died because you were tricked, tricked by a Government that promises to care for you and only use you when completely necessary. As soon as you join they shout and berrate you. Why? So that you obey orders without questioning. If Tony Blair or George Bush declared martial law would you slay your "own" people in the streets........probably yes and without battering an eyelid. I'm not saying the army would want to, but a convenient excuse would be raised to justify it. Terrorism, anarchy, the collapse of society! The people you were employed to protect.
When the media put your family on the television it's because pulling at the emotion strings sells. They don't care about you or me
No, I'm sorry, I was wrong before. Had a little rant and now my argument has come unstuck. We ARE the masters of the Government and they do what we tell them. When 2,000,000 people march to the capital stating they are against an illegal war, didn't they listen? I mean, they're are servants, I know that. It's not like they should ask us if they are going to declare war. A war that causes unimaginable damage to millions of people, takes billions of pounds of our hard earnt taxes away from us. We don't need that money for this country, we're so developed and all.
No, it makes sense to call a general election for a one party state and give everyone a vote. That's an important vote and it could really change this country.............it affects people's lives. All those differences between the parties. If we'd have just taken more care last time and voted in the conservatives then everything would be drastically different. Education would be degrading, the NHS "failing" and we would have gone to war with Iraq...............the LIberal democrats would ahve done all of the above, except for different reasons.
It's important to have a vote for such monumentous decisions. A war though? Nah, fuck it. No one cares about that. Too minor an issue ....they wouldn't be bothered about that....would they...nah....we'll make that decision for us. That's why they employ us. Wouldn't want to piss them off though so we'd better not start fucking with the really important thigns in life....like..... fox hunting. That's the kind of shit that could cause a revolution and a storming of parliament. The British people are passionate.
God, we're such polite, caring, upstanding, well to do lot. We know what's right and we're not savage at all.
Not like all those savages who live in other countries.
They're so lazy that they can't be arsed to put their designer clothes on or do their make up properly.They don't even bother waft the flies away from their faces when the cameras are on them, how embarrassing. Actually, the more I think about it the more I hate them because they never smile or horse around and entertain me by talking shit and that's what I expect from my television "entertainment".They're lazy, stupid farmers and that's why they have no food....I think....I think that's what causes it..... but I can't be arsed to find out why. It's nothing to do with me anyway, we give them so much aid. All that lovely, no strings attached aid......
Idiots! I bet they don't even know what WAP is!
How un-Kewl.
Why don't they just sort themselves out instead of taking up thirty seconds of our news coverage with all their silly little problems? So self absorbed, there's someone here trying to prevent me from gallavanting around the country with my inbred, genetically unsound, toff mates, tooting on my horn and letting my pack of vicious dogs tear another animal to shreds. That's what really gets my blood boiling.
Hate the Government?
Hate this country?
Feel powerless to change it and so go along because everyone else goes along with it. Nobody else could feel this same way? Could they? Anyway, I have a job and so I'll accept it and let someone else deal with it.
You accept it because you're tired.
You're tired because you work at least 5 days a week.
You spend most of your life with colleagues you had no say in picking and who probably make you feel dead inside. When you get home you're awake but your mind is tired and you are hungry. The easiest thing is to turn on the television because you don't have to think and it tells you what to think. You've had a hard day and your brain can't handle anything else. Why is all the really good programmes on really late when peoplle who have to work are in bed? Why is all the crappy soaps, reality TV shows, celebrity wrestling on at prime time. Why would the Government want us to be stupid? They'd never take the piss out of us.
When the weekend comes you're so fucked fof with it all that all you wanna do is get pissed. And do all those annoying, crappy jobs you never had enough time to do during the week. Shopping, housework. You don't need to have fun because there's no time and you can't change that.
... we're not developed..... look at the people you see in the street, listen to what they say and what they think. It's pretty fucking scary and I'm not talking about all the fear induced CRIME and TERRORISM. We're a stupid country, the majority of us are brain dead louts who worship lager, soaps and porn. Our cities are shit holes....look at our European neighbours. Ever go abroad, look at the buildings, the city designs, the attitude of the people and think.....just think.......... We have a terrible reputation around the world for violence, ignorance and being ugly. Britain is shit, British is shit. We all secretly know it.
St. George's day? Anyone
St. who?
When?
I only celebrate St. Patrick's day and guinness even though I think they are all potato eating thickos.
To our credit, we're not American. Those patriotic, flag flucking, national anthem singing peeps.
The only thing that unites us is when England play football. Those great days, Does anyone else sense a horrifyingly, tense aurora...a strange, unwholesome atmosphere on the day of an England match. The British attitude is amazing though, I think anyway. We expect that we deserve to be the best footballing nation in the world, even though we're not good....we do claim to have invented it though.... Right, so if we win a competition people would say:
"About fucking time"
If we lose they say
"I fucking knew it."
Then they go round destroying their towns and cities, twatting their fellow countrymen because they feel for England so much.
When I feel all powerful everything goes my way to the point it feels like someone has planned it, or written some film script for me. I'm sure some of the incidents that happen to me on a regular basis do not happen to most people and they could never even imagine it. Weird characters approach me in the street and want to be my friend. My life seems to be leading somewhere, I can't put my finger on it. I know I need to act in some way.....am I looking for a sign......would I even pick up on it. My days just disappear, I seem really busy but it feels like i've achieved nothing and there's so much to do. Sometimes I'm really confident and I can handle all situations that are thrown at me to the point of people perceiving it as arrogance. I place myself in situations so I can get myself out: it's as if there's a part of me that's egging me on to prove myself, that I can do things. Who am I trying to prove it too and why? There's always something nagging at my brain and I can never relax, I'm always on edge. I don't know the meaning of the word satisfied and after last week I realise I've not experienced the emotion of being happy for 2 years. I have no point of references regarding anything.....I can't remember how I felt last year, thankfully, or if I'm getting better or worse.
I don't know my own mind or what I feel. Am I alone? Am I ill? Am I in someway on a lower rung to a realisation or enlightenment? How can anyone ever truly understand another person?
It seems one of the only thing that can make me approach a state of happy is to help other people.....how long will that be enough for.I get bored of things so quickly....yet I'm lazy....why don't I realise my potential. Why don't most people..........
Ignorance is bliss. If I was like the people I talk about I would be less stressed and possibly happier. Is this a curse or a blessing to know all this and feel so trapped? Possibly. That's what they want me to feel. I'm not alone, I'm in a minority. Where are my allies?
Sometimes I cry and I don't know why.
Sometimes being in a room with other people makes me afraid.
What is it you think you see in my eyes?
Sometimes I'll stare at you with an uncomfortable intensity and you may wish you were strong like you think I am.
Sometimes I'll stare a blank, forlorn gaze and you may think I have debilitating troubles.
Sometimes I'll meet a stranger and bare my soul.
When I get close to a person I freeze up and can't let them get too close.
Sometimes I think I want people to like me
If people do like me I question why and get upset.
Sometimes I feel worthless.
Sometimes I feel ten times you.
Sometimes I feel so low and agitated there is nothing in the world that will make it ok. I want to run for a long time.
Sometimes I have to stop myself form doing things that come into my head
I could be the first person on mars and I wouldn't give a shit. I wouldn't feel happy or special.
If you pissed me off sufficiently I would show you pain you'd probably never imagined and then killl you with no qualms, no feeling, no pangs of guilt or upset. Why? Because you deserved it?
I have many feelings and would consider myself sensitive. Maybe I follow my own moral code and guide to life to a certain extent.
My eyes and brain hurt. My brain hurts because i'm exercising it and that pleases me. I'm slow. I think I've been here for 2 hours now. I won't check what I have written for mistakes, coherency or anything. I hadn't even planned to write any of this. I was writing asn e-mail to a friend and all of this came from nowhere. If I actually spent some time with these ideas, to develop them I might have something interesting to say...... if...
This all seems hopeless. It isn't. The people have the power. All of this could change...we ened to realise and think first. The people who go on Marchs also need to think. There were 2,000,000 of us, we could have brought that city to a standstill for days and they woudl ahve given in. Do you not see? All your little planned marchs with the exact time and then you all go on the coach home feeling good about yourselves. Do I even trust those anti-war people, begging you not to cause trouble. How will anything change then? Whose side are you on? Or are your glorious leaders going to get arrested if it kicks off.
So?
I think this is my first proper rant. That Bmx one pales in comparison. Still need to finish that....this is more important. I'm going to have a break now before I start writing about what I actually planned to come on here and write about after I had sent the quick E-mail :-)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This lack of access to the internet makes me sad. I really wish I had posted about this topic for every day that it happened. The days have passed, as have the feelings though they have morphed as time goes on and I can only comment on how I feel about it right now. Obviously everything has changed, as it does every day, and my memory has faded and my words will not do justice to the way that I feel/felt about this girl.............no...........it makes me too sad and although I'm on a nice flow I'd rather have a clearer, fresher head to begin.
It's 4:30 am. I might only allow myself four hours sleep every day for a week and see what happens to me.
Feel drained, low.......................................if I crawl in my bed and lie there I may go to sleep and hopefully I won't dream those horrible dreams.
posted by Swedophilia at 4:26 AM
0 comments
Monday, April 18, 2005
BMX Baddies - Miscreants: The society created dregs of society give me a hilarious present disguised as an act of twattery.Clever Boyz.
//Chronology of the next bundle of updates is all whacked out, man.//
The story of my BMX misfortunes occured prior to my fertilisation, then birth giving to this; this site. I borrowed -True, with the intention of integrating it into my "shit"- a BMX from this slightly messed up, slightly narcissistic, slightly up herself - although she sometimes had intelligent and interesting things to say - , ridiculously foxy little Asian number. Her name was rare to me: exotic, very warm and just..well..... likeable. Unfotunately.........it was also the name of a brand of a partially well known dog food.
Heh.
Just for the record, luv, when you, your boyfriend, and one of your hired goons intimidated, nay, forced your way past Gavatape and into my house, the amp that you took didn't even belong to me.
Haha
pair of fingers thrust to your fucking face.
I win.
My birthday was approaching and my very good friends clubbed together to buy me a shiny, new, bike. It was a good day and I received a digital camera also. I can't quite remember how many paid for it...... tad rewd....apologies for hurting you if I miss the name off. You shouldn't have been so modest about it then!
No, no. You are noble and I commend thee, silent providers.
Thanks to:
Artblu* (Receives the top star award. Though, if I encountered her today i would semi-hiss her)
And in no particular order:
Cee MDMF
Molroy
Alnamite
13twelve
Dan Dan Dan Dan
Beta-Antlaa (Formerly known as, Antlaa)& Krusty-nana
Bretometer
Drukqs Dog Patter
I loved that little bike, in a way.
On my second outing I cycled to town to accomplish an errand or two, grab a few supplies. I needed the toilet, Burger King was the closest I could think of even though I find myself consistently unimpressed (sometimes to the point of having to actually physically gag at the plethora of yellows, browns and cauldron of distinctive, potent aromas) with their hygiene levels....and the floors in the restaurant always need mopping.
Sort it out.
I locked my bike up securely to a local post and set off for a /.
Upon my return there was something intensely vital missing from the picture in front of me....................
My
spanking
shiny
new
bike.
I just kept spinning round in a confused state, refusing to believe that this had happened. I kept replaying our final moments together to try and make some sense of this torrid, unexplained utter catastrophe. I reexamined the incident scene looking for that all important first clue to kick the ball off rolling.
I remember securely tying it to the tall, black post in ******* the ********** ***** ******* and t'other one.
That looks somewhat shorter than I'd imagined.
It's a bollard......
work it out for yourselves
'nuff said.
(* = censored for reasons which will become apparent as this unfolds.)
I stupidly, so very stupidly, decided to go to the Kop shop. I didn't fall victim to an all too predictable naive, foolish instinctive reaction to report it to the p*lice: like a hysterical, soppy, heads off in fairy land reaction, mythical vision of the oinks that some people would fall victim. Thinking that questions would be asked and the crime would be solved with the safe return of stolen bike.
People like you should be banned from voting and taking out a loan proceeded by a good slap round the face round before being shown a documentary showing the positive AND negative sides of police organisations all over the world. They can then choose to have the same opinion or alter it. Obviously, those who continued to hold that view would be written onto a list of people headed 'Stupid.' Not for sinister motives. Simply provide people with free access to information regarding who best to ignore and chastise.
The only reason I went to that filthy, corrupt, hate filled, misinformation peddling, fear mongering, framing, drug smuggling and gun rustling sack of shit is because I noticed one of the - and I must say very, very few in this country to be fair - impossible to id anyone, ever, there for our protection whilst spectacularly failing to do protect, camera boxs. It was perched menacingly like a knowing, all seeing, heinous eye.
When I see a camera staring at me I feel uncomfortable, tense and agitated.
Anyone else feel like that, even if you've done nothing or plan to do anything wrong?
But I thought those cameras were there to make us all feel safe?
Shouldn't I feel secure and happy knowing that I live in the country with the highest ratio of CCT* to population head in the world.
That makes us really safe, right?
Hmmmmm...
Does anyone else feel the same when a p**ice patrol vehicle rears its ugly head.
How safe does it make you feel?
Are those cameras pointing down into a well lit street, there to prevent anti-social and criminal behaviour directed towards the general public.
Are they?
Or are they watching all those money making, profitable business' vulnerable windows and doors?
No, no. That's just silly.
Our Government, the people we entrust to represent our views but most importantly look out for our interests and protect us wouldn't put money and power above human existence and protection........ they value human life all over the world. The great work they've carried out in Africa, Australia, Palestine & Iraq. These caring guys that have such a high respect for the preservation of life. They always try to avoid wars. They don't try to confuse us over finances and the "economy." They don't lie to us about mortgages and pensions. They're on our side and that's why we vote them in. Vote them into rape and abuse an enormous amount of world power that we hand to them on the basis of:
- How much trust they can emanate from their contorted, facial smiles, fake countenance.
- Awe, he's a nice family man.
- I'll never vote for that other lot.
- Here's a squeeky clean person, never made any mistakes, experimented or strayed from what is considered to be a "normal", "acceptable" social existence. Lot of life experience there. They'd be perfect to empathise with the vast and diverse needs and experiences of the mass population and thus be able to guide them towards a well informed, balanced harmony that is in the peoples' interest.Someone who has made mistakes is unfit to make decisions, because, as we all know, you never learn anything from mistakes..... so....... it's best not to make any and maintain your reputation which gives you a good position to fairly judge all those weak willed, peasants that you sometimes have to interact with.
They'd never do that.
Because if they did do that we'd be in a pretty fuckin' scary place right now.
I feel nice and relaxed now because if that were to happen then I might ... actually..... have to pull my finger out of my arse...take an interest and do something.
So glad none of that is happening.
Who am I to judge, I'm the same as everyone else. The only difference being I realise something is wrong.
I think that makes me worse because I am still inactive even though I have the power. Ignorance is a good excuse to be fair.
Anyhoo, I saw that fucking spy box and vaguely wondered whether it would have caught the act. I knew beforehand about the piss poor quality of the footage. Black and white, grainy, you can't make anything out apart from vague figures who can only be identified by their face, which incidentally you can't make out.
Slight design flaw perhaps?
Mayebe it should have been spotted before they installed over a million of the things.
Oh well, it's not their fault. They just got distracted with all the important details such as the product name, how much they could charge per unit, and how much fear they'd need to generate in order to make sales rocket.
You have to excuse them for failing to achieve the actual supposed point of the product.
Anyway, I knew they would not be catch the skritters, but I wanted to see him one last time, even if only for a few seconds. It would have also been a deserved crushing punishment to myself in payment for my stupid actions (actions that on first deciphering appears to contain connotations of ungratefulness, yet, if it was to be investigated would be proved to be totally unfounded.)
I also hope that it would be scallies so as to limit damage to my faith in humanity.
So tired, so tired.
This story ain't over
The story of my BMX misfortunes occured prior to my fertilisation, then birth giving to this; this site. I borrowed -True, with the intention of integrating it into my "shit"- a BMX from this slightly messed up, slightly narcissistic, slightly up herself - although she sometimes had intelligent and interesting things to say - , ridiculously foxy little Asian number. Her name was rare to me: exotic, very warm and just..well..... likeable. Unfotunately.........it was also the name of a brand of a partially well known dog food.
Heh.
Just for the record, luv, when you, your boyfriend, and one of your hired goons intimidated, nay, forced your way past Gavatape and into my house, the amp that you took didn't even belong to me.
Haha
pair of fingers thrust to your fucking face.
I win.
My birthday was approaching and my very good friends clubbed together to buy me a shiny, new, bike. It was a good day and I received a digital camera also. I can't quite remember how many paid for it...... tad rewd....apologies for hurting you if I miss the name off. You shouldn't have been so modest about it then!
No, no. You are noble and I commend thee, silent providers.
Thanks to:
Artblu* (Receives the top star award. Though, if I encountered her today i would semi-hiss her)
And in no particular order:
Cee MDMF
Molroy
Alnamite
13twelve
Dan Dan Dan Dan
Beta-Antlaa (Formerly known as, Antlaa)& Krusty-nana
Bretometer
Drukqs Dog Patter
I loved that little bike, in a way.
On my second outing I cycled to town to accomplish an errand or two, grab a few supplies. I needed the toilet, Burger King was the closest I could think of even though I find myself consistently unimpressed (sometimes to the point of having to actually physically gag at the plethora of yellows, browns and cauldron of distinctive, potent aromas) with their hygiene levels....and the floors in the restaurant always need mopping.
Sort it out.
I locked my bike up securely to a local post and set off for a /.
Upon my return there was something intensely vital missing from the picture in front of me....................
My
spanking
shiny
new
bike.
I just kept spinning round in a confused state, refusing to believe that this had happened. I kept replaying our final moments together to try and make some sense of this torrid, unexplained utter catastrophe. I reexamined the incident scene looking for that all important first clue to kick the ball off rolling.
I remember securely tying it to the tall, black post in ******* the ********** ***** ******* and t'other one.
That looks somewhat shorter than I'd imagined.
It's a bollard......
work it out for yourselves
'nuff said.
(* = censored for reasons which will become apparent as this unfolds.)
I stupidly, so very stupidly, decided to go to the Kop shop. I didn't fall victim to an all too predictable naive, foolish instinctive reaction to report it to the p*lice: like a hysterical, soppy, heads off in fairy land reaction, mythical vision of the oinks that some people would fall victim. Thinking that questions would be asked and the crime would be solved with the safe return of stolen bike.
People like you should be banned from voting and taking out a loan proceeded by a good slap round the face round before being shown a documentary showing the positive AND negative sides of police organisations all over the world. They can then choose to have the same opinion or alter it. Obviously, those who continued to hold that view would be written onto a list of people headed 'Stupid.' Not for sinister motives. Simply provide people with free access to information regarding who best to ignore and chastise.
The only reason I went to that filthy, corrupt, hate filled, misinformation peddling, fear mongering, framing, drug smuggling and gun rustling sack of shit is because I noticed one of the - and I must say very, very few in this country to be fair - impossible to id anyone, ever, there for our protection whilst spectacularly failing to do protect, camera boxs. It was perched menacingly like a knowing, all seeing, heinous eye.
When I see a camera staring at me I feel uncomfortable, tense and agitated.
Anyone else feel like that, even if you've done nothing or plan to do anything wrong?
But I thought those cameras were there to make us all feel safe?
Shouldn't I feel secure and happy knowing that I live in the country with the highest ratio of CCT* to population head in the world.
That makes us really safe, right?
Hmmmmm...
Does anyone else feel the same when a p**ice patrol vehicle rears its ugly head.
How safe does it make you feel?
Are those cameras pointing down into a well lit street, there to prevent anti-social and criminal behaviour directed towards the general public.
Are they?
Or are they watching all those money making, profitable business' vulnerable windows and doors?
No, no. That's just silly.
Our Government, the people we entrust to represent our views but most importantly look out for our interests and protect us wouldn't put money and power above human existence and protection........ they value human life all over the world. The great work they've carried out in Africa, Australia, Palestine & Iraq. These caring guys that have such a high respect for the preservation of life. They always try to avoid wars. They don't try to confuse us over finances and the "economy." They don't lie to us about mortgages and pensions. They're on our side and that's why we vote them in. Vote them into rape and abuse an enormous amount of world power that we hand to them on the basis of:
- How much trust they can emanate from their contorted, facial smiles, fake countenance.
- Awe, he's a nice family man.
- I'll never vote for that other lot.
- Here's a squeeky clean person, never made any mistakes, experimented or strayed from what is considered to be a "normal", "acceptable" social existence. Lot of life experience there. They'd be perfect to empathise with the vast and diverse needs and experiences of the mass population and thus be able to guide them towards a well informed, balanced harmony that is in the peoples' interest.Someone who has made mistakes is unfit to make decisions, because, as we all know, you never learn anything from mistakes..... so....... it's best not to make any and maintain your reputation which gives you a good position to fairly judge all those weak willed, peasants that you sometimes have to interact with.
They'd never do that.
Because if they did do that we'd be in a pretty fuckin' scary place right now.
I feel nice and relaxed now because if that were to happen then I might ... actually..... have to pull my finger out of my arse...take an interest and do something.
So glad none of that is happening.
Who am I to judge, I'm the same as everyone else. The only difference being I realise something is wrong.
I think that makes me worse because I am still inactive even though I have the power. Ignorance is a good excuse to be fair.
Anyhoo, I saw that fucking spy box and vaguely wondered whether it would have caught the act. I knew beforehand about the piss poor quality of the footage. Black and white, grainy, you can't make anything out apart from vague figures who can only be identified by their face, which incidentally you can't make out.
Slight design flaw perhaps?
Mayebe it should have been spotted before they installed over a million of the things.
Oh well, it's not their fault. They just got distracted with all the important details such as the product name, how much they could charge per unit, and how much fear they'd need to generate in order to make sales rocket.
You have to excuse them for failing to achieve the actual supposed point of the product.
Anyway, I knew they would not be catch the skritters, but I wanted to see him one last time, even if only for a few seconds. It would have also been a deserved crushing punishment to myself in payment for my stupid actions (actions that on first deciphering appears to contain connotations of ungratefulness, yet, if it was to be investigated would be proved to be totally unfounded.)
I also hope that it would be scallies so as to limit damage to my faith in humanity.
So tired, so tired.
This story ain't over
posted by Swedophilia at 6:12 AM
0 comments
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Doctor Cat conception
1) 'Theme from Doctor Cat.' Begins with yet to be discovered "Doctor" sample and arranged in a similar vain to Thunder cats and ending with a "Cat" sample from either series I or II from Red Dwarf.
2) Monday night, Doctor Cat night where they receive a special treat tea of real fish, steam cooked. Sometimes they may be given dead birds that we find in the road. They can only eat this away from the flat.
3) On Doctor Cat's first birthday myself and Alnamite pick up fishing rods and catch them some fresh, hearty, unpolluted Manchester fish.
4) Brush Doctor Cat in a friendly, yet forceful manner.
5) Commission a stethoscope for Doctor Cat.
6) Refuse to get them micro chipped.
7) Discuss the pros and cons of vaccinations and disease prevention for them. If all the other cats are safe then Doctor Cat may be ok? Try to get cat charity to pay.
8) Will they be spayed?
9) Research how to care for cats.
10) Quiz fellow cat people asking for "any tips."
11) Cat flap?
12) Conceal Doctor Cat's presence from Mr. Landlord?
13) Doctor Cat needs to be friendly towards neighbours.
14) Should Doctor Cat wear festive attire? Tinsel at Christmas perhaps?
15) If fish tank is activated and Doctor Cat attemps to interfere then they shall be castigated, then punished. Doctor Cat will be confined to the flat and starved for 2 days.
16) If Doctor Cat's errors are even more horrific, action shall be decided ad hoc,
17) Entertain Doctor Cat with stompin', horse play, cavorting and depravity.
18) Doctor Cat has equal rights within flat.
2) Monday night, Doctor Cat night where they receive a special treat tea of real fish, steam cooked. Sometimes they may be given dead birds that we find in the road. They can only eat this away from the flat.
3) On Doctor Cat's first birthday myself and Alnamite pick up fishing rods and catch them some fresh, hearty, unpolluted Manchester fish.
4) Brush Doctor Cat in a friendly, yet forceful manner.
5) Commission a stethoscope for Doctor Cat.
6) Refuse to get them micro chipped.
7) Discuss the pros and cons of vaccinations and disease prevention for them. If all the other cats are safe then Doctor Cat may be ok? Try to get cat charity to pay.
8) Will they be spayed?
9) Research how to care for cats.
10) Quiz fellow cat people asking for "any tips."
11) Cat flap?
12) Conceal Doctor Cat's presence from Mr. Landlord?
13) Doctor Cat needs to be friendly towards neighbours.
14) Should Doctor Cat wear festive attire? Tinsel at Christmas perhaps?
15) If fish tank is activated and Doctor Cat attemps to interfere then they shall be castigated, then punished. Doctor Cat will be confined to the flat and starved for 2 days.
16) If Doctor Cat's errors are even more horrific, action shall be decided ad hoc,
17) Entertain Doctor Cat with stompin', horse play, cavorting and depravity.
18) Doctor Cat has equal rights within flat.
posted by Swedophilia at 7:33 PM
0 comments
Friday, April 08, 2005
Boss eyed dog... or somethin'
About 18 months ago Alnamite was sat in the optician's chair undergoing a run of the mill eye examination.
"Has one of your pupils always been larger than the other?"
'Er, no. What?!'
He peers in the mirror and is taken aback when he notices that his right pupil is nearly twice as big as his left, this gives him a rather sui generis appearance. Imagine the pupils as vehicle wheels. It's like a piston hissing, engine smelling, double decker bus wheel juxtaposed with a child's BMX wheel. I do think it looks rather cute, although some people may misconstrue it as the eyemarks of a deranged individual who possibly shouldn't have contact with anyone under the age of 16.
This is a self inflicted, drug induced ailment and so it's difficult not to snigger a little bit *heh*. I honestly don't think his indulgences were excessive and believe the mutation occurred from a daring, yet foolish, toxic concoction of substances that formed some sort of eye paggering chemical and this is what did the damage, rather than the volume of his drug intake being too high. It might just be from when he got slaughtered every night at the Oxford union bar and kept checking out his South African barman friend, Chris, so much so that his pupil got all strained by the eye popping, sensual emotions that surged through his body every time Chris whispered the words, “Ally me pally wally KY jelly."
Us two, Cee MDMF, and ****** were waiting at the bus stop when Alnamite revealed this information to the others. There was a period of, and perhaps this was cruel, laughter fits quickly proceeded by Cee MDMF shouting, "Shit, you look mental!" Everyone started pissing themselves even more, especially because of the manner in which it was uttered. I felt sorry for my future flat mate, yet made a candid comment stating that I believed he looked like an elderly teddy bear. At some point in the past one of the teddy's eyes had fallen off and a new, incongruous, much bigger eye had been sown on as a replacement. It makes you feel sad for the bear and love him more.
Granted, maybe it wasn't the most comforting comparison to ease his sore mind; it made me feel empathy and also guilt for laughing. When the same girl then said, "You look like a boss eyed dog, or somethin'" the immense creasing began again and I forgot how he felt.............................laughter is a great cure.
"Has one of your pupils always been larger than the other?"
'Er, no. What?!'
He peers in the mirror and is taken aback when he notices that his right pupil is nearly twice as big as his left, this gives him a rather sui generis appearance. Imagine the pupils as vehicle wheels. It's like a piston hissing, engine smelling, double decker bus wheel juxtaposed with a child's BMX wheel. I do think it looks rather cute, although some people may misconstrue it as the eyemarks of a deranged individual who possibly shouldn't have contact with anyone under the age of 16.
This is a self inflicted, drug induced ailment and so it's difficult not to snigger a little bit *heh*. I honestly don't think his indulgences were excessive and believe the mutation occurred from a daring, yet foolish, toxic concoction of substances that formed some sort of eye paggering chemical and this is what did the damage, rather than the volume of his drug intake being too high. It might just be from when he got slaughtered every night at the Oxford union bar and kept checking out his South African barman friend, Chris, so much so that his pupil got all strained by the eye popping, sensual emotions that surged through his body every time Chris whispered the words, “Ally me pally wally KY jelly."
Us two, Cee MDMF, and ****** were waiting at the bus stop when Alnamite revealed this information to the others. There was a period of, and perhaps this was cruel, laughter fits quickly proceeded by Cee MDMF shouting, "Shit, you look mental!" Everyone started pissing themselves even more, especially because of the manner in which it was uttered. I felt sorry for my future flat mate, yet made a candid comment stating that I believed he looked like an elderly teddy bear. At some point in the past one of the teddy's eyes had fallen off and a new, incongruous, much bigger eye had been sown on as a replacement. It makes you feel sad for the bear and love him more.
Granted, maybe it wasn't the most comforting comparison to ease his sore mind; it made me feel empathy and also guilt for laughing. When the same girl then said, "You look like a boss eyed dog, or somethin'" the immense creasing began again and I forgot how he felt.............................laughter is a great cure.
posted by Swedophilia at 2:25 AM
0 comments
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
"It's a stupid hat"
Ok, no time to update. Here is what i sent in an e-mail after my friend,[can't think of a name yet], mentioned the pope.
I wrote this before the pope died by the way; I don't have time for a dedicated blog rant
cool,
look forward to real mail.
Pope was pissing me off. The figure head of the most evil, sinister,
organisation of the last 2000 years is about to die, boo hoo. Even The
Manchester evening news devoted a top section of the front page to it,
disgusting. If there was a God and he heard millions of people praying for
someone's life do you not think he'd respond in some way. Ok, maybe not
immortality but make him super healthy and fit, leting him live an extra week
relieved of the heavy burden of 'pope.' I'll cheer when that callous, charlatan
with dillusions of grandure pops his clogs. Let's pray that it's painful. I'll
be gutted if he gets away with passing away in his sleep.
oh, i've just made some geenral enquirires and it appears it's already happened.
*Excuse me while I wipe the tears from my eyes.
Hmm, got vague memories of you being associated with catholicism.............
Ack!
PS
Anyone know what this title is from?
I wrote this before the pope died by the way; I don't have time for a dedicated blog rant
cool,
look forward to real mail.
Pope was pissing me off. The figure head of the most evil, sinister,
organisation of the last 2000 years is about to die, boo hoo. Even The
Manchester evening news devoted a top section of the front page to it,
disgusting. If there was a God and he heard millions of people praying for
someone's life do you not think he'd respond in some way. Ok, maybe not
immortality but make him super healthy and fit, leting him live an extra week
relieved of the heavy burden of 'pope.' I'll cheer when that callous, charlatan
with dillusions of grandure pops his clogs. Let's pray that it's painful. I'll
be gutted if he gets away with passing away in his sleep.
oh, i've just made some geenral enquirires and it appears it's already happened.
*Excuse me while I wipe the tears from my eyes.
Hmm, got vague memories of you being associated with catholicism.............
Ack!
PS
Anyone know what this title is from?
posted by Swedophilia at 2:07 AM
0 comments
