It Would Appear

A lovely phrase used as the beginning of a sentence that could lead anywhere - but usually, somewhere on the road to Shitsville, Arizona. 'It would appear' is simply a way of saying that I think, without knowing any of the facts at all.

Why do I mention this now? Because I've had another one of those birthday things. So what, I don't look too bad for 400 years old - the beauty of being a vampire I guess.

However, having recently had my long hair cut, "...It would appear that I look younger". Well, I hate to burst your bubble on this score, but time only moves in one direction. I am older than when I started writing this - that's the wonder known as the space/time continuum.

I suppose one could argue that 'appearance is not reality' but that does not account for uneducated people's reactions, beliefs or behaviour - and by education, I am not talking about some muppet in a jacket attempting to explain Keynesian Economics when he cannot Demand my attention as a Supply teacher.

Firstly, it's my hair and I'll do what I bloody well want with it. Secondly, it is not your place 'people' to judge me on what I do with my hair - invariably, you will be so far off the mark it beggars belief.

Por Ejemplo -

Bald Head - 'Appearance' = skinhead and prone to violence, 'Reality' = Chemotherapy, it has that effect
Long Black Hair - 'Appearance' = Santa (sic) worshiper, 'Reality' = I just fucking like it, so tough shit !

Pink Jumper - 'Appearance' = adequate attire for the golf club, 'Reality' = self opinionated twat
Black Clothes - 'Appearance' = cross the road quickly dear, 'Reality' = emergency services, Goths and people who help

Far too often, I have been judged by what people appear to see, rather than what they would choose to learn. Yes, I can be an arsey cunt, if I choose to - but only when provoked.

In the meantime - rejoice !! I'm not old, just older.....

America - The Land of ...

*Note* It's even in the national anthem, "Land of the.." but that's where it becomes bullshit. So here is my version of the next part of the statement (and if you don't like it, tough shit) - it's my blog and I'll write what the fuck I want.

SO, AMERICA IS THE LAND OF THE:-

Fat Bastards - granted the UK are desperately trying to catch up but if one US state actually all jumped at the same time they would create a Tsunami that would take out all small pacific islands.

I noticed today that some fucking idiot has created a 'burger' (available on a normal menu, not to create a world record) weighing something like 60 kilos. That is not a burger! It's a bloody cow between 2 bits of very large bread. Doubtless, the twat that orders it will also have a Diet Coke..

Idiots in Trailer Parks - like the guy who has won $275 MILLION on a lottery. Firstly, I'm not jealous - the guy had a shit job, his wife looks like Miss Piggy without the fashion sense and he lives in a trailer. Secondly, I agree with his choice to take about half of it in one hit rather than small amounts for the next 50 years or whatever.

My issue is with his statement that "Life's not gonna change any for us - we're just gonna have a mansion built, buy new matching 4x4's, pay for all the family to go to that school thing..." etc. *Newsflash pal* - your life has already changed. Get the education yourself and stop talking through your arse - and while you're at it, give some to charity.

Parasitic Professions - like lawyers and plastic surgeons. I read about some woman who successfully sued a department store for $1.3 million because she tripped over some twatty little kid that was running around the shop. I couldn't really comprehend why the store had a liability to pay the woman but then, in true American style, they outdid themselves. It was her fucking kid !!!

As for the plastic surgeons, in Europe, we would have just recycled Michael Jackson - make him into egg boxes or something.

The Free and The Land Of The Brave - hmmm, it was, until you massacred most of them. There seems to be a lack of understanding about guns over there. I don't give a shit what Charlton Heston (President of the NRA) says, guns are not big and clever - they kill things and if you are not killing something to eat it - fuck off and starve or become a vegetarian - plants don't run away !!

And before you assume I am going to trash everything American, America is also home to:-

Home To Some Lovely People - that I know. I've been priveleged enough to meet some wonderful Americans - the first of which were a couple of guys called Daryl and Marcus, who visited Wales many years ago as part of a choir. They taught me some intricacies about American Football I didn't know and I exchanged knowledge about girls (apparently, in Wales, we start experimenting with the opposite sex earlier ?!)

Prostitutes

Apparently, 'You can't live with them, you can't live without them', or so I have heard. Well, I've heard that said about many things, but that's not bloody good enough.

'Prostitution is the oldest profession known to man' is another quote I have encountered many times. There's a bit of a giveaway in the 'known to MAN' bit, I think.

Both of the above are complete bollocks - Welcome to the Catholic version of Sex and Religion.

So someone chooses to pay for sex, so fucking what !!!

What really pisses me off, and that takes a lot usually, is that some weirdo in the UK has been convicted of killing FIVE women. In itself, this is bad enough, but all the news coverage says "Serial killer kills 5 prostitutes".

What do these shit-head journalists do apart from getting pissed in bars and swapping stories??!!

FIVE PEOPLE lost their lives and that should be the important bit, not what they chose to do to earn their money.

But, that's the joy of journalism - ONE journalist gets kidnapped and there's a fucking huge campaign mounted by the media. FIVE prostitutes get murdered and that's ok, "We could run something on Page 11 but not if it intereferes with the 'Burger King' advert".

AND, before, Mr ED the Journalist, you get on your fucking 'high horse' - do some fucking research.

I did, and it was fucking depressing - but, at least it was more than you did you publicity-seeking twats.....

*To the families of the GIRLS who lost their lives - sincere Gothic hugs*

Sorry if you were coming to Goth World for happy thoughts....

City Of Culture

I know sometimes I might rag on a bit about Bruxelles being shit but it has it's plus points. Granted, the shit bits are major. European Capital my arse - just because we have the European Commission here means fuck all - except that we get inundated with moronic Euro politicians who spend most of their time debating bugger all whilst living on expenses.

The public transport sucks a lot of the time, although it still makes the travel system in the UK seem like something from The Simpsons.

It's quite a nice place to live if you don't want to speak any language other than your own as there is such a mix of languages here, so if you're feeling like being a linguistic lazy bastard - it's the place for you.

On the plus side though - there is culture here. No I'm not talking about the recent exhibition of Leonardo Da Vinci - boring. It only became a popular topic because of that silly little book, The Da Vinci Code (which was a conglomeration of stolen ideas anyway).

No, I'm talking about a 'proper' exhibition. It just started here this weekend having toured some small provincial villages in Europe like London, Paris and Lisbon. Am I going to see it - abso-fucking-lutely. The opportunity to see a major exhibition of something so big it's, well, out of this world.

What am I talking about? Well, DUH!

The Star Wars Exhibition - hee hee, you get to meet Yoda and ask him what the fuck he's talking about - how cool is that?!

Don't get me wrong - I'm not one of those sad twats that will get dressed up as a character to visit it but, it is a chance to revert to my childhood just for a few hours.

Granted, there is one other exhibition that I want to see, infinitely more Gothic, but that's in Paris (more about that one soon).

In the meantime - May The Force Be With You

*disappears trying to light a cigarette with his light sabre*

New Testament - The Hobbit

As The Goth has entered a new environment, he has encountered new characters. All of these 'people' he has had to add a label to in order to remember their names, rank, habits etc. One has to bear in mind that being a lazy bastard, I don't really work for Mrs Miggins at the corner shop - so I lean toward global corporations - except McDonalds, who are a bunch of twats.

Obviously, one has to be slightly discreet in describing your cow-workers, in case the muppets actually read this shit but, in keeping with true Goth Policy - maybe not, as I don't give a fuck.

Introducing - Number 1 - The Hobbit.

Head of new shit - apparently he got promoted from looking after old shit. Wandering around the office looking for his ring, he is a desolate figure - with no hair. I'm somewhat tempted to offer to superglue my offcuts to his head but maybe he wants to look like a midget version of Michael Stipe ?!

The Hobbit was my first point of contact on my way to Mount Doom and he still hasn't introduced me to Doom - I just have to assume she is a babe by the way that he dribbles when he talks about her.

In the meantime, I have to circumvent his inane questions about mathematical functions. It kind of reminds me of being back in school and being asked why 'we' have quadratic equations. Apparently, "because there's a lot of sad bastards in the world with nothing better to do" is not the correct answer.

Talking of sad bastards, The Hobbit relishes the prospect of night support. Now, as a Goth, I appreciate the vampire hours more than most but not if some wanker in Venezuela can't make their printer create an invoice. Fuck off and don't be calling me at 3 am !!!

I think The Hobbit is starting to appreciate the fact that I don't actually care that his 'precious' system doesn't do what it is supposed to. Guess what, I think - out loud, your inadequacies are what created my job.

Of course, if he starts eating raw fish and stating "We likes them wet and wwwwwriggling" I will have to drop 16 tons on his head !!

Welcome to my world.......

Countdown To Destruction

Not long to go now before El Goth reaches another landmark in his life. A time to reflect I suppose but then, the temptation to think that you would do things differently proves all too tempting.

How could you have done things differently? One makes decisions based on the information at hand at the time. Granted my parents were distraught when I turned down the scholarship to a private school when I was 10. As a family we didn't have any money so the opportunity for one of us to join the 'elite' must have seemed a gift from the gods. BUT, I did't want to play 'chase the soap' with the 'chocolate soldiers' (later to become lawyers, paedophiles or whatever).

I was more interested in proving that you could play with sticks without taking someone's eye out. I was curious to know how you could create fire without matches or a lighter - the ants found out the hard way. I wanted to wrap dogshit in newspaper, set fire to it on someone's doorstep and then ring the doorbell. Simplistically, I wanted to be a child and discover for myself - not follow some script that should make me a 'better person'.

Teachers didn't really help - they didn't understand the concept of multi-tasking then. They assumed because I was talking to my friends at the back of the class I wasn't listening to them. Not true. It's just that the interesting parts were so fragmented between repetitive nonsense that the only time I came alive was during exams.

Apparently, this was not very popular with the educational community so I used to get sent from lessons to somewhere I had to be quiet. In typically myopic fashion, the only place they could think of was the library. So, I sat quite happily educating myself.

I'd like to think it was a clever ploy but, I knew the odds that were running on me failing exams. I know this because I had an inside track. The few teachers who actually cared would say things like:-

Art - "You're supposed to learn how to draw an eye? Come and look at the work of the Pre-Raphaelites"
Music - "Scales? Listen to Bob Dylan and then Mozart..."
English - "Cider with bloody Rosie - Jesus Christ, come and have a look at The Iliad"

Do I regret not going to a Private School? Do I fuck. You can keep your privates....

*to be continued*

Never Give Up

The motto of Lord Lucan apparently, as opposed to Lord Baden-Powell, whose motto encouraged all Boy Scouts to carry condoms (Always Be Prepared). Which means that Powell was assuming that they were all jolly japesters who enjoyed fashioning water bombs, or he had another inkling about a group of young boys in shorts - but I guess you need a private education to get that bit?!

Anway, as for me, I'm not giving up blogging. I just have to readjust my timetable somewhat. Some of you that have been visiting here for a while may recall that I used to write them on the train on my way to work (when the shit train service remembered to actually make them arrive on time).

Unfortunately, that is not an option anymore as I now have to walk to work and I'm not typing whilst I walk. The reason for this is that the new place is precisely 3 'chain-smoked' cigarettes duration from home. Not that I would do that of course, I'm too busy avoiding the dogshit on the pavements.

Once I get a rhythm sorted out, normal Goth World entries will be resumed.

It was a bit frightening at first - I had to put my 'prostitute outfit' on to secure the deal - by which, I mean a suit. However, after I'd had the contract confirmed I asked the important question.....

"I don't have to dress like this every fucking day do I?"

Thankfully, the answer was NO - so Back in Black then :))

Of course, it does mean that there is a new influx of characters in Goth World - which is good because The Burble was really starting to piss me off. Mariposa is happy, planning trips to Italy and Spain and Goth knows where.

So hang in there my little followers of darkness, normality will be resumed shortly. In the meantime, thanks to those who offered words of concern. Unlike Samson though, cutting my hair just made me stronger - and I'm still hoping to make a profit from the offcuts..... the shit works for butchers!!

It's Just A Jump To The Left

Sorry, Goth World, I have been busy assessing my life - like a snake with a lisp.

As I have another one of those birthday doofers coming up, I thought it was time to decide what I wanted, rather than what every other fucker desired from my embittered soul.

'AHA' - I thought, and then realised that was the name of a Norwegian band famous for something or other in the 80's. Thus, I changed my suppossedly cerebral statement to 'Gadzooks'.

However, the point remained the same - 'Why did I feel like what I was doing was what everyone else wanted?'.

That was actually quite easy to figure out (in retrospect). What was rather more complex was to figure out was why I could not simply be happy to exist.

It's a bizarre equation of life that we elicit what we desire from those we can, and yet, subjucate ourselves to those who we feel have more power.

Unfortunately, that 'point' has proven costly. In doing so, I committed to and destroyed a marriage, I have alienated my children, I lost the 'perfect' job for me.

Basically, I fucked up!!

So, in my thoughts on correction and validation, a feeling of Zen ran over me like a big, chocolate slug.

Maybe I didn't have to fight after all. Perhaps I could just utilise the gifts that I have to benefit the many.

(and before you religious freaks get in on the act, I did not see God, or Monkeys, or Sacred Cows - I saw my bank balance).

Most importantly, I saw the sadness in the eyes of people I love.

It was time for a change - and so, I made the change. All of my lovely hair got sliced of by a barber (and I didn't even go to Seville). I shaved my 'goatee' beard off. I even looked for a 'proper' job - one of those that pays you for holidays....

I'm not saying I found Gothic redemption - but I am fucking trying......

Interview Technique

Interview technique is a very important asset to posess. There are a number of facets that one has to bear in mind because nobody wants to be landed with a job that they had no desire for.

So here, courtesy of Goth World, are a few tips to bear in mind:-

• Try and be prepared - it's important that you can quantify your career to date especially when you get asked about particular dates in your career history.
• Always look the interviewer straight in the eye - it is important to give off a sense of trustworthiness.
• Do not be drawn into embellishing on your achievements to date - it is very easy to get caught out on any inaccuracies.
• Research is paramount - you really must know the background of the job you are being interviewed for.
• Bear in mind that if you are being interviewed, they already want you for the job - it is just whether you say the things they want to hear.
• Ensure your referees are going to say favourable things about you (it's pointless using a referee who countermands what you have declared).
• Keep it simple - the more complex your explanations, the more likely it is you will get caught out at a later date.

So there you have it, a simple Gothic guide to interview technique.

Oh, I almost forgot, it's usually very wise to ensure that you have a solicitor/attorney present.

That way the bastards can't twist what you said !!

Are You A 'Leg' Man?

I don't have a preference from the list of :- HEAD or LEGS or BUMS.

This is a reference to the order in which you slice, bite or swallow in general.

Now, steady on tiger, I am talking about how you generally partake of Jelly Babies.

For those of you, not aware of these confectionary masterpieces, let me elucidate. 'Jelly Babies' are small pieces of jelly sweets, crafted into the form of.... wait for it... little people !!

Obviously, for the fucking idiots reading this, I am not talking about eating babies, that would be bloody stupid - (i.e. Tipper Gore - which rhymes with 'Fucking Whore' - fuck off and do something interesting. They're just fucking sweets) but jolly nice ones.

So, having procured a bag full of these sugary little rascals, and ignored the Gorey Bullshit - you have to decide on how to eat them and there are many methods you can partake in this, supposedly, oral delight - Por ejemplo:-

• The Pamela Anderson - shove it all in your mouth in one go
• The Elton John - you can start with the bum, but then it gets sticky
• The Ozzy Osbourne - bite the heads off first
• The Ziggy Freud - your mother has to lick it surreptiously
• The Vinnie Jones - take the legs first, munch the rest afterwards
• The George Michael - to be eaten in toilets and denied later
• The Britney Spears - shove them up your nose and watch your hair fall out

Of course, there may be other suggestions I may have missed.....

Songs Of Praise

For those of you not from the UK, Songs Of Praise is a TV programme broadcast every Sunday where some wizened old git presents a load of hyperbolic nonsense from a church or cathedral. Typically, they will harp on about how the lord is their shepherd and they are his/her/it's sheep.

This is interspersed with choral renditions of some crap hymns that no-one really knows the words too but, in a bizarre twist of fate, knowing that there will be TV cameras present - an entire flock of these sheep turn up to mumble through the words hoping to see themselves on TV.

Now, apart from the hypocritical twit presenting the show, you are deluged by archaic praises to some supposed god. It's not too bad now as there is Sky TV and Cable where you can watch naked beach volleyball instead but when I was growing up, there were only a few channels you could get and it was a choice of this, or Open University with some bearded muffin extrapolating parabolic curves or something.

Fuck that for a game of soldiers!

Why can't they update the Songs Of Praise format? They could use Metallica one week, Marilyn Manson the next week etc - that would be far more interesting. Por ejemplo, you could have the following:-

Metallica Songs Of Praise

• Holier Than Thou
• The Unforgiven
• The God That Failed
• Eye Of The Beholder
• Harvester Of Sorrow
• Nothing Else Matters
• For Whom The Bell Tolls
• Creeping Death

Now, doesn't that sound more interesting than some blue-rinsed out of date crumpet eulogising about how great it is to be a 90-year old virgin?

I'm sure normal visitors to Goth World may have alternative suggestions but, for the 'god-squad', fuck off and leave me alone - you're missing your programme.....

An Encyclopaedic Tale

Following on from my previous posting about the Britannica, let me introduce you to Volume 10. Garrison - Halibut. Except, with a slight difference......

Garrison Halibut patrolled the waters with the calm air of an ex-underwater cop. He'd long since resigned himself to having been kicked off the force and since starting his own marine detective agency, was quite happy to work on his own.

This latest assignment though was going to be quite different from the others he had solved, enhancing his reputation - especially with the Scales of Justice.

However, he realised after several hours that he was going to have to question one of his informants, a slippery character known as Sammy the Squid. Garrison knew that Sammy had his tentacles in many orifices - if anyone knew what might transpired in the underseaworld, Sammy 'Squealer' Squid would know.

Garrison suspected the best place to find Sammy was a small dive just off the Reef. It was a known hangout for unsavoury elements and it was no surprise, as he arrived in the murky underwater hangout, to see Sammy watching the erotic mermaid dancers.

"Hi Sammy" said Garrisson after he had drifted silently beside him.

Sammy jumped and let out a jet of liquid.

"Neptune Almighty!" exclaimed Sammy "What are you trying to do? Give me a coronary"

"I'm working a big case Sammy and I think you might have some information for me - they'll be a few thousand plankton in it for you" said Garrisson.

Garrisson Halibut started to outline what he knew so far about the case but had barely started when Sammy turned a very pale colour.

"Garrisson" said Sammy, very nervously whilst twitching several of his tentacles "You know I kinda like you but you really should stay away from this one. I've heard a few things and it's not something I'd ever want to get involved in. You know I don't swim with a shoal anymore - it's far too dangerous now".

"Come on Sammy, you know I'm afraid of no fish, crustaceans or mammals" replied Garrisson.

"This time you should be afraid - be very afraid" said Sammy pointing a few tentacles at Garrisson.

Garrisson Halibut stared intensely at Sammy The Squid and waited for him to squeal....

*To be Continued...*