The Seventh Day

If you believe in God you might want to stop reading about now - you have been warned.

For those of you still reading - I was polite enough to offer the tossers a choice which is fair, I think.

THE SEVENTH DAY

God created the world in seven days apparently - well, six if you bear in mind that God fucked off on holiday for one, leaving Amateur God to create things without divine guidance.

Being omnipotent has it's drawbacks as you can't actually go on holiday as you are already there - by definition. Therefore God had to go into 'standby' mode leaving the less than competent apprentice to create other things which God hadn't cleared from the list.

Predictibly enough one supposes, Amateur God, fucked things up beyond belief and thus the Seventh Day creations remain.

On Gods return from 'standy-mode' on the eighth day, God looked at what at been invented, put her fingers against her temples and took a very deep breath.

'Jesus Fucking Christ' she opined, unfortunately creating religion as a by-product.

When God truly surveyed the damage on the previously perfect creation, God wept.

However, God was tired of 'multi-tasking' all the time and so could not devote enough God-energy to fixing what had been created, and thought - 'Oh bollocks - let the monkeys run with that planet'.

Amateur God, already banished from the kitchen of life, decided to add a little impetus into the situation and so gave Man a semblance of intelligence. Not a particularly wise idea in retrospect, but Amateur God figured that as God wasn't looking, it wouldn't really count.

Thus, Man came forth and ate the monkeys.

Peace - My Arse

Apparently, Sir Paul of McCartney played a gig in Israel 43 years after The Beatles were banned for being too dangerous.

Now, whilst I respect that four scousers in suits generally is not a good thing - what the fuck were the 'Fab Four' going to do? Kidnap everyone in a yellow fucking submarine?

Whilst they were burbling on about only needing love, The Stones were rocking with 'Sympathy For The Devil' - I know whose side I'm on.

However, a Goth should not take sides. The two groups were equally shit, or equally good - although, I don't hear many grannies humming 'Paint It Black' - but let's just put that down to no Gothic Grannies.

So, whilst visiting one of the most divisive places on the planet, Sir P of M decides to sing 'Give Peace A Chance'.

Well DUH - they're not fucking listening - still.

Israelis -> "We have been fans for forty years and we are so proud he has chosen our land to play first"

Palestinians -> "We have been fans for forty years and we are so pissed off those bastards got to hear what we couldn't"

Peace? Yeah - my Gothic arse.

Do Not Use Dude

I cannot believe I got told off for using the term 'dude'.

For fucks sake - I have called people a 'twat' before now and that was not an issue.

However, it appears that from a European perspective, the americans do not like the term 'dude'.

Thus, Mr or Mrs America

Point 4

You invented the 'D' word in the first place

Point 3

I was trying to be polite

Point 2

Grow up mentally

Point 1

Stop reading between the lines - try getting the bigger picture

I am pissed off with your ineptitude, you arrogant bunch of tossers but,
dude
if you want me to fix your fuck-ups again, the helldesk is available on 666.


Of course, that could just be me - but, "feel free to dude what you want, any old time"

American Idiots

I really don't like dealing with American Idiots (AI - also known as arsehole intelligence). Throughout my years on (and off) the planet, I have encountered many strange people but - to paraphrase Clint Eastwood - "A Goth's got to know his limitations".

Goth should not worry about this - he's not qualified (paid enough) to worry - but Goth does care.

Wednesday - communication that we should talk more with americans - ok

Friday - NO communication about what they were supposedly planning

Saturday - communication from Goth at 3am - "I have a really bad feeling about this"

Sunday - NO communication as AI kick into action

Monday - NOTHING works anymore
Monday - Goth is asking what the fuck they have done
Monday - AI are blaming Goth for not communicating
Monday - Goth is explaining the basic principles of communication
Monday - AI try to cover their tracks by deleting log files that Goth has already sent off network
Monday - Goth fixes the important bits and decides that home is a safer place to be
Monday - Conference calls are arranged but Goth has left the building

Tuesday - AI have found the answer, which is spookily the same as Goth suggested the day before
Tuesday - Goth has to explain what went wrong
Tuesday - AI decide they can fix the other bit
Tuesday - Goth goes out for a cigarette
Tuesday - Network crashes in a wholly predicted way taking out all European operations
Tuesday - Goth suggests ice cream and cakes or anything with sugar
Tuesday - More conference calls are suggested - Goth declines
Tuesday - Goth decides that Jack Daniels is a beautiful friend and leaves
Tuesday - AI fix the final part using exactly the same code Goth suggested

Wednesday - now - Goth is planning a conference call with AI (and it will not be polite)

Talk to the BBC

Yeah right. They listen to no-one.

Every morning they blether on about texting us this, or e-mailing us that about what is on the news.

"We'll read it out live on TV" says the smarmy presenter.

They bloody do not !!

Thursday - 'Fire in the Channel Tunnel' (in case you didn't know, it's the tunnel under the sea) but the fire is still burning and it's the lead article on

Friday - "The people can't put it out" says silly woman turning to sillier man"No - they can't" replies idiot in a suit "But, here's the weather where you are"

So, I sent them an e-mail - pointless exercise!!

Goth@darness.bat
"Dear BBC, tell fire fighters to drill the ceiling - there's shit loads of water up above them - best regards, Goth"

and then I had to send another one

"Oh btw, tell them to fit a tap - plugging the hole with small Dutch children may not be popular now - lesser regards, Goth'

Response? - Fuck all. So sleep tightly Jean Claude Van Damme - your probing fingers are not required

The Not So Little Book Of Calm

Those of you that have been reading this page since before the hippy got nailed to the tree, may remember the Good Book.

For the newbies, I'm not talking about the bible and it's bullshit ramblings - I'm talking about

The Little Book Of Calm

I happened across the little rascal whilst searching for something I didn't find but, you really should share the wisdom.

So, randomnly, I selected a page or three and - brace yourselves - here goes.....

Train a Calm Place

Apparently, if you practise being calm on a park bench you can simply go there to be calm.
(Everyone else calls this being homeless but, who am I to argue with wisdom?)

Practise Saying No

Only take on what you can do and then politely turn down other requests
(Well, that explains most of the teenage pregnancies in the UK then)

Think Warm

A cold body is seldom calm
(The dead ones don't seem to wriggle that much)

Obviously, the cynical amongst you may think I made this shit up - I didn't (apart from my opinion in brackets) so feel free to check the lunatic ramblings of a mushroom muncher yourselves.

ISBN 0-140-28526-1

And may it bring you as much calm as Jack Daniels did to me.....

Why I Hate Custom People

I say people in the loosest definition of the word, and I say HATE in the strongest definition of the word. It's not really that I hate authority - I just don't like idiots with authority or badges or, especially guns.

My first encounter with Customidiocy was on my return from Germany for a school trip. I had discovered you could buy cigarettes anywhere and so had stuffed numerous packs into my suitcase for my return.

On arrival at Customs exercise, 40 or so of us children walked neatly through the Green Channel (Nothing to Declare).

Rather unsurprisingly, I got stopped and the following conversation ensued.

Custom Offal - "Have you read the sign thoroughly?"
Goth - "What sign?"
CO - "Please go back, read the sign and come through the appropriate channel"
Goth - "OK"

*wanders back as supervising teacher develops a migraine*

CO - "Ah - so you have come back through the Red Channel. What do you have to declare?"
Goth - "That I tried the Green one and you stopped me so I thought I'd try this one"
CO - "Let's open your suitcase then"
Goth - "You can if you want but I know what's in it"

*teacher now approaching organisms"

CO - "Less than 200 cigarettes - that's fine then"
Goth - "I know that, I read the sign this time ;-)"

These days, I wouldn't try that shit though. Taking a teacher through customs is far too stressful....