martes, octubre 30, 2007

Occams Razor

So this is why all those gits in the bible kept harping on about god - because they were afraid of getting their beards shaved off. The god thing/he/she doesn't exist according to Friar Bill (sorry, William) of Ockham, the creator of this theory, who was a monk.

Actually, that's not exactly what he said, but we Goths were a bit too busy trying to invent Jack Daniels at the time to explain it to him. And, Gillette, being a lazy bastard hadn't even been born at that time, so he was about as much use as tits on a bull.

Let me explain a little.

Firstly, Occams Razor, which you may or may not of heard of, is a principle which explains that the 'explanation of anything should involve as few assumptions as possible'. Which, in modern language translates roughly to 'it just fucking is, alright !!'. In theory, it's like trying to explain algebra to someone who knows bugger all about it.

Secondly, lots of famous people utilised and argued with this theory including Copernicus, Da Vinci, Newton, Darwin, Einstein and Charlie from 'Num3ers'. Except that no-one took it down to real basics. "Look, a big bang" said Einstein and people thought he was explaining the birth of the universe rather than his theory of the atom bomb.

And so onto religion (HA - and you can stop groaning at the back) - they use it here too. "I can explain why god exists" - "Bet you can't - my argument has less letters and therefore is proof of Occams Razor".

Lovely quote here - "If the concept of God does not help to explain the universe, it is argued, God is irrelevant".

All of this created by a 14th Century Franciscan friar. Bet he got his arse kicked by the other Monk(ey)s later. Just hope he had learned that walking on rice-paper trick.

BTW - Blog Birthday tomorrow - i.e. Halloween - 1 year already..... go figure. Bizarre.... a whole year of weirdness is Goth World

*wanders off to look for a fresh bottle of JD to celebrate*

lunes, octubre 29, 2007

The Evil Orchestra

Too many times, I have been watching a film trying to figure out what the fuck was going on when #dah dah, dee doo doo# - "O fuck, he/she'll be dead in a minute then" - and there, lurking in the backgroud, is Phil and his harmonic orchestra.

You completely spoiled the scary bit you twats !!

I mean, imagine the scene - a grey misty morning in a Chicago dockyard. The sleek black Cadillac slows to a crawl, as some fat fucker doing an impression of a hamster on drugs, burbles on about people never leaving the family when.......#DA DA DAAAAAH# - Fucking duck ! - he's got a cello, it's not a violin in that case at all!!!" says the only person to get out alive.

In Westerns, it also happens. It's ok to hear the rhythmic tub-thumping of native americans having a tempestuous day, but if it changes to Lalo Schiffren style timponium rocking - it's not a fucking good day to be anything else other than invisible.

Movies in space? - sorry, when you hear the orchestra starting to play #DA DA DEE DA# - leg it !!! That means Dark Vader and his asthma issue is coming, and he's not going to be very happy - he's still pissed off at getting arse-whipped by a muppet.

It's no use trying to escape the fuckers, in horror films either. #Da, dee da da# (in an eerily spooky type B-flat minor fashion) - IT'S BE-FUCKING-HIND YOU - you scream before some mutant vampire octopus starts conducting the orchestra hiding in the woods.

So, top tip - if you hear music - run away..... really fucking fast, as fast as your legs, wheels, or whatever's left will carry you

This has been a pubic information notice from Goth World

sábado, octubre 27, 2007

Bunch of Fucking Arse

Once again, for what seems like forever, I have been working through the night fixing computers. Puters that I didn't fuck up to start with.

I don't actually mind that much, it is my vocation, and I don't care about the fact that I didn't fuck it up to start with.

That's ok - people fuck-up. I'm happy drinking the entire output of Columbian coffee and keeping Phillip and his Morris dancers in employment, whilst I untangle the spaghetti-overload of someone else's incompetence.

What really fucking annoys me, is when the peeps say something like :-

"Oh that's nice, it works again"


"Yes, it works again" I say but, occassionally, a 'thankyou' would be nice.......

A word to the wise.... be nice to 'techies', and watch how fast your system gets fixed - treat them like a piece of shit and look forward to the key phrase

"Aw shit - it broke....."

viernes, octubre 26, 2007

The Perfect Ringtone

For me, is the silent one. Mmm, let it vibrate in your pocket like, a little hamster on a wheel going mental in a very small place. (It's not really a hamster, I just liked the analogy).

I like Nokia, as a company, they haven't pissed about with the "oooo sorry Sir, you will need a totally different charger for that phone", which is very helpful when you travel a lot - NOT. Your mental process goes from:- 'Oh for fucks sake I forgot my charger and now my phone doesn't work' to 'thankyou barman, or hotel receptionist for supplying just the one I need' ooooo feeling calm now

AND, with Nokia, you have always been able to change the ringtone from the complete dross that they provide to something bizarre - even when you had to program the tone in yourself. Boring, but effective.

I had one of those Shitberry things for a while, and what a bucket of toss that was. It was designed for people with very small fingers, or very accurate nails. The worst thing was, you couldn't change the ring tone to something other than 'ladybirds farting on a mushroom' or something.

That's the whole point of having a mobile phone. Pissing people off with the ring tone.

Yeah, yeah, I know it's not big and it's not clever, but it is funny as fuck at times.

Normally, I take my phone everywhere with me, but when I get a sufficiently annoying ringtone, I will leave it on my desk and phone myself from a landline just to watch people tear their hair out. This was particularly fun, por ejemplo, when I had programmed 'Europe - The Final Countdown' in as a ringtone.

At present, anyone who knows me, in real life, knows that I had 'Queens of The Stone Age - No One Knows' as my last ringtone, and before that 'HIM - Buried Alive By Love'. BUT, I have changed it - to the perfect ringtone.......

So, you can either guess what my new one is, or suggest your own ( and no, there are no fucking prizes)

jueves, octubre 25, 2007

We Can Be Heroes

Said the Man Who Fell to Earth, but didn't hurt himself, apart from getting different coloured eyes and then moving to Switzerland which is spectacular(ly shit).

Anyway, I've been watching this series, called, funnily enough Heroes. As far as I can figure, it is about a group of people who all have a 'super-power' each, but there's an evil force out to get them. I'm not sure how many evil forces exist in the world but they seem to multiply a lot, without even asking for a reference - bastards.

Back to Heroes, there seem to be lots of people with one 'super-power' and then there is one good one, and one bad one, who can assimilate the powers of others - except you don't know which is which, unless you work on haircuts and general style of clothing which kind of gives it away.

The 'super-powers' range from the ability to:-
  • become invisible
  • to fly, but like Superman
  • become radioactive and blow shit up
  • create fire, without matches
  • read peoples minds
  • walk through solid objects
I lost track as they keep coming up with new 'super-powers' that the peeps can have.

Now, I'm not sure which 'super-power' I would choose, given a choice of any of them. Well, actually, that's a lie, I know exactly which one I would choose.

BUT, which one would you choose, if you could only select ONE SUPER POWER?

miércoles, octubre 24, 2007

Chu Fuck Wits

NOTE * This is actually based on a true story, bizarre as it sounds. *

A Chinese gang (gang of morons from the sound of it) decided to produce some forged UK currency. In itself, an interesting plan until you find out how they decided to do it.

Firstly, they contact the Bank of England (mistake number 1) informing them that they have a number of £1,000 notes that they want to exchange for smaller notes. As the £1,000 note has not been issued in the UK for 60 years (mistake number 2), their research is a little bit lacking. However, as the Bank of England have some of the strictest security in the world, the gang are invited for a meeting, with the police obviously.

Feeling somewhat smug, they then claim to have a number of £500,000 notes (which have never been issued - I'm stopping counting mistakes now as there are too many). Apart from that there are also major discrepencies in the forgeries like incorrect signatures, and were, in the words of the prosecution "slightly resembling bank notes".

Undetered, the 'fuck wit' gang turn up with £28 billion worth of forged notes. Now I'm pretty sure that most people would have been wise enough not to try and get that amount of money without raising alarm bells. Unfortunately, they've read the wrong fortune cookie or something.

So, in they roll with their forged notes (in a wheelbarrow presumably) and then look somewhat surprised when they get arrested.

What a bunch of idiots. They deserve to be locked up for sheer stupidity and to protect themselves from their brains.

It will be interesting to find out what they wanted to change the money into. I mean, £28 billion of even £100 notes is going to be fucking heavy. Still, I'm sure they will have a few years to figure out what mistakes they made.

martes, octubre 23, 2007

The Laws of Rallying (with a caravan)

Another Challenge

Normally, I don't do anything about challenges, like the 'Name 5 favourite names for your pets' type shit but, the concept of tying 5 unconnected words together into a (relatively) coherrent posting - well, that's just fun. Therefore, all you have to do is figure out what the FIVE words are.......

The Laws of Rallying (with a caravan)

Firstly, I'm talking about rallying in the 'drive like a fucking lunatic through a forest' sense, not marching your fellow co-workers to the factory gate just because the assembly lines have munched one of your lazy bastard cow-workers type rally.

Now, in itself, they have almost perfected this art form so it's about time they upped the ante. Let's have the fuckers towing trailers, or even more fun, towing caravans (preferably, with grandma miggins still sat on the loo inside). It seems to me (in my own bizarre way) that it's a perfect evolution of the sport.

Jeremy Clarkson and the guys would love it. It make no sense at all regarding the laws of physics, whether that's metaphysics or geophysics or any of those physics crap that I missed in school as I was either behind the bike shed or in the pub.

Of course, with a relative amount of circumspection, cogitation and general thinking using dead big and clever words, this plan is clearly as mad as a hat full of badgers, but it would be funny as fuck.

I mean, anyone who wants to go anywhere in a caravan doesn't understand the concept of the word HOTEL which is why they all drive so slowly. It's almost as if they are expecting to come over the brow of a hill and go "Fuck - it's a cliff !! I told you this was going to happen Edna".

I'd pay to watch the shit. "3-2-1 go-go-go!!!" and the shitty car and caravan go hurtling down a dirt road into a forest.

Plus, the extra bonus is that those fucking idiots who choose to stand on the outside of a bend would get totally wiped out when Stig loses control of the vehicle and goes 'off-road' as they would not only get broadsided by the Austin Maxi but any of the dweebs who were laughing would get totally twatted by the two-berth with inbuilt portaloo, attached by a towbar following at high speed.

You wouldn't even have to change the acronym WRC - instead of World Rally Championship, it could be World Rallying Caravans.

Fucking hell - it's just so crazy an idea, I might even try it. Or perhaps I'll just forward the idea to the Top Gear guys and then laugh like a banshee when they actually try it.

(And.... if anyone can guess the five words from that - I'll be bloody impressed)

lunes, octubre 22, 2007

Why Have You Forsaken Me?

This seems to be a question that all religious believers ask, when life fucks up beyond belief. It also happens when people lose a partner or one of their family. My point is, why pose the question to an entity that does not exist? That's just plain fucking stupid.

Occassionally, people question why I don't believe in god. Mmm - that'll be on account of the fact that no 'all-seeing, omnipotent' being could not oversee such misery as exists in this world without sending a few thunderbolts up peoples arses or turning them into hedgehogs or something. What's the point of being a god if you can't do clever stuff like saying 'Shazam - size of a slug'?.

"But it's a test of our faith" whinge the pathetic mother-fuckers that believe in this shit.

Well, it might test your faith, all it does for me is to confirm my belief that there is no god. Even if there was one, he'd be a wanker for putting so many people through such misery.

*Tip from Goth World*

Pretend to be like a 'boy-scout' and always be prepared. Have a small penknife ready to stab any intruding god in the calf and say something clever like "All seeing? Didn't see that coming did you omni-present fucker?!" and then laugh as god hobbles around going "ow, that fucking hurt".

Anyhow, the point is not to ask god "Why have you forsaken me?" - just ask the bastard what he was doing when the shit hit the fan. I bet the tosser comes up with some excuse about trying to fix the fjords in Norway or something.

You may have a better idea why he/she/it was busy???

domingo, octubre 21, 2007

Strange Supersitions

There are many superstitions that people believe in, some are quite common like black cats crossing your path, walking under a ladder (which makes sense if someone drops a hammer on your head) and having a rabbits foot (although it doesn't seem very lucky for 3-legged Thumper).

However, there are some superstitions which are downright bloody bizarre......
  • Eat a raw herring and you will see your future spouse. (seems to me that you would smell like a fish so I don't see how that would work)
  • Yellow Underwear is good luck (I supppose it might be if you pissed yourself, then no-one would notice)
  • Once leaving a residence it is bad luck to return if something was forgotten. (well, if it was a bomb, maybe, otherwise I can't see how going back would be bad luck)
  • Stepping on a crack in the sidewalk is believed to result in one's mother breaking her back (if she was lying down on the crack, maybe)

As I said, there are many superstitions around the world, depending on the culture and even to some extent, the region of a country your are in.

Here are my 'superstitions' which I believe would bring you bad luck.

  • Jumping out of a perfectly good aeroplane whilst in flight
  • Standing in front of a speeding train
  • Stepping on a landmine
  • Attempting to catch a bullet with your teeth

Actually, if you are actually stupid enough to try any of the above, go ahead. The human race is not actually in need of your addition to the gene pool.

Feel free to contribute any more strange superstitions - the weirder the better :)

viernes, octubre 19, 2007

My Deepest Fear

Everyone dreams - it's a part of reality. BUT, once in a while, you dream something so real, so terrifying, that it's scary.

Dreams are something people have to deal with. I spent years dreaming of 'dead people' until I realised, they're not really dead.

I don't worry about dreams where I'm falling without control (learned to deal with them) - fuck it, I'm like Neo in The Matrix - "there is no spoon".

I can manage the 'running but never moving forward' stuff, drowning in a lake under ice, blah, blah, blah.

I can cope with the 'falling forever' thing too, in a 'flying in a blue dream' kind of way (extra points for the guitarist)

I can even make dreams go backwards - in a 'rewind' sort of way.

What I don't like is violence. The reason being, it might manifest itself in reality. I don't like what I can be.

"Make cakes not war!"

Chocolate sponges with raspberry filling would be nice :))

And, your favourite freaky dream is ????

jueves, octubre 18, 2007

Cross Country Running

Physically, I was designed for cross-country running - the physique is there. Mentally, it makes perfect sense to me - a self-preservation order. It's the only time the teacher made sense...

"Run this way, really fast, but stay between the lines" - er, right, not really going to happen.

"Run any way, really fast, and.... where the fuck did he go?" - yey, now we're talking, or rather, running.

I can fight, if I have to, but it fucking hurts. Why bother if you can


My ego will heal a lot faster than a broken arse. So fucking what, that the last thing you saw was my Gothic furry butt disappearing through a hedge?! Better that than coming to my funeral (which will be nice, incidentally - marshmallows for everyone, 'yey, toast them over my burning carcass')

Ergo, mentally, I associate with....


The 'Games Master-bator' (P.E. Teacher) used to get very frustrated with me, but I figure that's because he couldn't catch and stroke me.

"Where'd he go?" he would demand of the little fat one

"Dunno Sir, there was a blur and then..."

"So, where the fuck is he?" - AAAAAAAARGH

*little fat one pointing in the direction I'd gone*

"Goddamn it - I can't see him Simpson"

Indeed, that will be because I'm running and hiding, and I don't care if you get your helicopters and shit 'cos I'm running and I'm not stopping 'till you put your pants back on...


miércoles, octubre 17, 2007

Fucking Language

And no, for you perverts who have arrived on a wave of Google tissues, this rant is not about SEX - there are NO pictures here in Goth World so fuck off and masturbate behind the bike shed.

The english (grrrr) language, is probably the most eloquent and elegant of all languages on the planet. It is my mothers tongue, not in a lizard type way, more a being born in Manchester way, and thus I have a more than an adept grasp of it - the language, not my mothers tongue.

Anyway, I can read many languages but being a cocky mother-fucker, I decided to learn another.... Punjabi.

I don't know why, I just wanted to.

Except I can't.... because the fucking English doesn't make sense.

Quote: "I believe that learning the Panjabi script in an exiciting intellectual adventure which must not be missed"

How the fuck am I supposed to learn another language if your basis is fucked up to start with?

Looking on the bright side, I did learn the swear-words first....


So, there you go, swearing in a language other than English......

*Backs away before scheiss passiert*

But you can suggest swearing in another language if you want, and 'Putain' does not count as I have used it before :-s

lunes, octubre 15, 2007

More Religious Bullshit

Oh goody - more religious piffle to talk about. I was starting to get concerned that I was being slighty unfair to the bearded ones and their little book of nonsense. Although, to be fair it is a complete crock of shit (in my opinion).

Then, lo and behold, I have discovered more religious meanderings of the mind, in a different religious text.

Now this one, is from a completely different religion, but is also full of the most insane nonsense. In fact, if it is possible, is slightly even more insane. At least with the bible, my biggest criticism, apart from the inaccuracies, is the way that is interpreted. This new (to me) text, doesn't leave you in any doubt as to the fact that the authors are as mad as a bag of squirrels on acid.

So, the question is, to which text am I referring? Firstly, it is not a new text, as in not one of the New Scientology type religions (stick to novels Hubbard !). Should I tell you what it is, or just plough straight in?

Hee, hee - the evil side of me says let them guess.

1 point for the religion
5 points for the title of the text

Bonus 10 points if you get both

(and, it is freely available on the internet)

Guess away...

domingo, octubre 14, 2007

Driving Lessons, in Goth World

Mariposa:- OK, so I steer with this?
Goth:- Yes
And this makes it go forward
And if I want to make it stop?
You press this doofer
Don't patronise me because I'm a woman
I'm not, I'm trying to help you learn to drive
OK, I'm ready
Good, so let's begin - select, first
First what?
Tranquilo, basics first
Merd ! Merd ! it's not...
Calm down, think happy thoughts
I am bloody calm and.... where's the fucking road?
There, just where it always was
But I can't fucking see it
Just look - try the Jedi mind trick - focus your mind
Bullshit, tell me where the road is
It's exactly where it was before....
Ok, I see it now, so I engage gear and then accelerate like this?
Exactly, calm and careful and, oh fucking hell
Oh Merd - I just crashed off a cliff
Did you have a parachute?
Kidding, sorry
OK, Let's start again !

Welcome to Mariposa entering the Playstation zone...

viernes, octubre 12, 2007

Biblical King Of The Bees

Yes, there was also, in that book, the bible, a very wise king and his name was King Solomon. He was so very wise that he used to sit on his throne all day doing fuck all really but when someone came in and said "Oh King, something dreadful has happened" and proceeded to explain the disaster, the King would say "Well, I did tell you that was going to happen" and everyone wandered off going, "Bloody hell, he knows everything, he does".

Anyway, one day the Queen of Sheba, came up with a plan to outfox the King, in a cunning and foxlike fashion. She arrived in the King's court with a bunch of flowers in each hand. Standing a fair way from the King, but by the window so he could see properly, she said "O clever and mighty one, one of these bunches are real flowers and one are very cleverly disguised false ones - but which is which?"

The King thought about it and scratched his beard. "Come on then smart-arse" demanded the Queen of Sheba.

"Open the bloody window" demanded the King "It's too stuffy in here and I can't think properly".

The King's courtier did so and moments later, the King announced "The flowers in your right hand are the real ones".

"Wow" said the Queen of Sheba "You are indeed wise and powerful, but how did you know?"

"That's easy" replied the King "They're the ones that are covered in bees"

"Covered in..." started the Queen before looking at her hands. She screamed and ran out of the palace yelping "Fucking hell, I'm covered in bees".

jueves, octubre 11, 2007

Real Christian Singles in your area

Single? Christian? If you are ready to meet "The One" and want to establish a relationship, then please Visit Real Christian Matching ....

Well, I hate to tell you this 'mailshot' wankers, but I am not really the person you want to be sending this spam shit to. But, I have seen The Matrix, and I know Neo is 'The One' - so save yourself some time and send your lonely people to Keanu Reeves thankyou.

I am used to having to delete the spam mail I get on the various e-mail accounts but normally it is boring shit like:-

'Enlarge Your Penis...' what, by tying a brick on a piece of string to it?
'Get Your Love Life Started With Viagra...' as opposed to trying to have sex with someone attractive?
'I Am Stuck In Africa With A Fortune...' well, if you're that fucking rich, why are you stuck there then?

So, what is the weirdest SPAM mail you have received, and what would your reply be?

martes, octubre 09, 2007

Crutching At Straws

So, after meeting my beloved for lunch at a local hostelry, I noticed something slightly untoward.

"Do you sell magic beer?" I asked the barman.

"Well, it's ok but I wouldn't call it magic.... why?" he inquired.

"I can understand when people leave, or forget umbrellas" I started to explain "Newspapers, glasses, hats and all sorts...."

"And your point is?" demanded the now confused barman

"If you look over there" I said, pointing in the direction of said articles "There are crutches. Now I can imagine why you might need them after a night on the piss, but to come in to a pub, drink a few alcoholic beverages and then forget you needed them ?!"

The barman started, what was going to be a phrase like "Fuck off you're taking the..." when he abruptly stopped and said "Bloody hell - you're right".

"It's like the Fugitive" I said "We need to be looking for a one-legged man" (except he was a one-armed man in the film, but the principle is the same, 'ish).

Somewhere in Bruxelles tomorrow, someone is going to jump out of bed and realise that they shouldn't have done that.

So what was the strangest thing you have encountered being left behind (and children don't count)..... ???

lunes, octubre 08, 2007

Crash, Bam, Thankyou Twat

You really couldn't script this shit.

It's been a busy 48 hours in Goth World but Mariposa wanted the 'nest' re-arranging, which is cool, in a 'not at the fucking moment' way, but I acquiessed, as you do.

"I'd prefer not to put that in the garage as it might get stolen" she says.

"Yeah, bound to fucking happen" I replied, and wandered off to do the shopping.

Heading back to the 'nest', shopping bags in hand and feeling satisfied about an interesting, and somewhat eventful day, I noticed somebody taping up the garage.

Taping up a garage is not normal behaviour, even in Goth World.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I enquired, in French.

"Sorry" came the reply "I crashed through your garage door"

"I can bloody well see that, but how? It's not even a direct line from the road" I countered.

The explanation kind of weedled it's way out eventually, but suffice to say, the garage door is FUBAR.

Looking on the bright side, the twat could have driven off and said nothing (a very Belgian concept), although he might have had to explain to the police why he had portions of a garage door all over his car.

So, should I ask for compensation and what would be appropriate?

domingo, octubre 07, 2007

Sleep Tagging

OK - I will take the challenge on and discuss 'sleep-tagging' because I'm originally from Wales, and it's amazing what might happen in your valley, if you're not careful.

Mr Clever Pants, JJ, wanted to know what 'sleep-tagging' is and so I feel duty bound to explore this whole side of sexuality. Actually, I don't know fucking anything about it but I know it will piss him off, especially as it is something his therapist told him not to discuss - (the little list of shrinks - bit of a Freudian slip up the bottom).

Anyway, sleep = stuff like being dead, without the ceasing to exist part, because that would be silly, not to mention, pointless, or endless or something - with an annoying inevitability.

Tagging = announcing that something belongs to you, even though you can't actually own it, in a graffitti type way - por ejemplo "I will spray my name on this train, as it is passing, really fast, but everyone will know that my name is Squiggle, but in different colours.".

Thus, if you put the two together, you get..... babies, or a sexually transmitted disease.

Oops, sorry, I was supposed to be explaining 'sheep shagging' or something like that.

Pehn Di Phuddi

I only know 2 phrases in Punjabi, and that is one of them. But I do know how to say Ben Zoma, in Hebrew, which is kind of handy when you're rewriting the Bible.

I tag JJ (but you can join in if you want), to write a story involving:-

Motorhead, drugs, wine, women and song - in French.

sábado, octubre 06, 2007

Gay Bomb

So, the theory is as follows. Get a bomb, as in explosive device type thing, but instead of killing people, you make them love each other in a homo-erotic way.

Sorry - is this making no fucking sense at all or what ? I didn't make the shit up (yikes, sounds gay already) - it's even got it's own Wiki entry.

"An aphrodisiac could be dropped on enemy troops, ideally one which would also cause "homosexual behavior"

Now, I'm not gay, so forgive me for making assumptions, but, what the fuck is that about?

My understanding is that soldiers like to dress up, run around a lot in make up, and hide in trees. Being gay, is the same thing but means that you like to dress up, etc but with someone of the same sex.

So therefore, a 'gay-bomb' is somewhat superfluous, don't you think??

In Goth World, you can do what the fuck you want, with whomever you want. Well, apart from being nasty - that's not allowed.

However, I would make a brilliant lesbian - well, apart from the fact that I'm not female. But I am really good at tennis and I love women..... well, one woman actually, so I guess that makes me a 'Solo-Lesbian'.

Don't think the drugs are working yet ;-)

jueves, octubre 04, 2007

Which Way Then ?

I do so love that phrase, when I'm as pissed as a bee falling off a flower.

"Which way should we go?" - like I should fucking know.

"To the place that I live, I think.... ish."

Por ejemplo :- Goth is completely twatted, in a very, too much alcohol and no sleep till Hammersmith way, and thus should go home and sleep and stuff. However, believing he can fly and other weird shite, the Goth One decides to have another beer or two.

"I think we should go now" says the cherubic angel on Goth's shoulder.

"Fucking A" says Goth, staggering to his feet, clutching the flowers he has purloined for his beloved. "Which way is the Metro doofer?".

"It's ok" replies the Dark One "I'll drive you home - it's only 2 minutes from where I live"

*40 minutes later*

"Dude, we are totally lost - I think I should call Mariposa as she will know where we are etc"

Beginning the phone call, the Dark One says "Do you think I should switch this GPS thing on now?"

Well, fucking DUH ......

*auto-voice* "Turn left after 300 meters"

Goth watches patiently before commenting - "Not that left - your OTHER left!!!!!"

Fucking long journey but Goth got home in the end............

Being Welsh

It's not that easy, being Welsh. I know, as that's what I am - for richer or poorer, but always, Wales is in my veins.

First, you have to differentiate between North and South Wales. Makes a big fucking difference does that, you know.

Second, you have to hate the English - bastards introduced central heating, and umbrellas and stuff. Had fuck all to do with the Italians, or Romans as they were called then, wandering past and saying things like "If you build these roads in a straight line, you wouldn't crash into trees so often" - "Fuck off, we're Welsh and we like trees, don't we Dewi ?!!"

Third, you must create a language that is no use to anyone, in the world, ever. Except for Patagonia, but that doesn't count as no-one knows where the fuck it is to start with.

Other things you could do?
  • Create your own TV channel (pronounced S Pedwar Eck) to show shit programmes that nobody wants to watch
  • Invent an Eisteddfod to showcase your lack of talent
  • Create small towns with names that are longer to pronounce than the time it takes to traverse them
  • Set fire to holiday cottages for no apparent, sorry, logical, reason
  • Enforce the children to play rugby, and hope that when they grow up, they might still like it
  • Love sheep, in an unconditional way

Fuckin Gleaming

But, being Welsh, we did give the world Manic Street Preachers - good, Charlotte Church - bad, Ryan Giggs - good, Tom Jones - Gaaarrrgh

*wanders off in the direction of Spain, mutterring to himself*

martes, octubre 02, 2007

Public Wanksport

So the theory is, let's save the planet by not driving cars, which get us from point A to point B roughly when we want to. Let's all use public transport and then lots of people can get nowhere that they want to be when they want to, without harming the environment.

I don't know what it is about public transport that is so shit, apart from the fact that it doesn't fucking work.

'Oh look a timetable' thinks the innocent bystander on the platform, not realising it is a way to divert attention from the fact that the bus/tram/metro that was supposed to appear does not.

How is that supposed to make me not want to drive an earth-killing automobile?

Why bring this up now? Because once again I got let down by the loonies in uniform. Buy a ticket and enjoy a free hour of transport. NO - buy a ticket and enjoy 59 minutes of doing fuck-all in a cold and windy station whilst waiting for your wanker who can't drive in a straight line when all he is has to do is press GO or STOP and occassionally OPEN DOORS or CLOSE DOORS.

Meanwhile, a bunch of tossers in a conference are drinking coffee laughing and saying :-

"Do you really think they'll believe that timetable shit, Quentin?"

"Probably not Tarquin, but have you seen the new retractable roof on my new Bentley?"


lunes, octubre 01, 2007

Guess The Film Then

So here are a few tasters for the last lines of famous films. See if you can guess what the films are. Just 8 for the moment but feel free to suggest some others....
  1. “I used to hate the water.”
    “I can’t imagine why.”

  2. "And crawling on the planet's face, some insects called the human race. Lost in time, and lost in space...and meaning."

  3. “Do you think you'd be happy doing that?”
    “Well, I don't know. What are the hours?”

  4. “They say they're going to repeal Prohibition. What will you do then?”
    “I think I'll have a drink.”

  5. “I do wish we could chat longer, but I'm having an old friend for dinner. Bye.”

  6. “You better bury Ned right. You better not cut up nor otherwise harm no whores, or I'll come back and kill every one of you sons of bitches.”

  7. “Thought you didn't care.”
    “I don't. Don't tell anybody, OK?”

  8. “You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry: you will someday.”

Suggest away and no, there aren't any prizes...