Alight One Stop Early

Another gem from The Little Book of Calm as I head away for a well-earned break (well earned by Mariposa that is).

"Alight one stop early - If you consciously set out to break your own routines, you can also break your worry habits. Take a different road home, get off the bus a stop early, talk to a stranger, and absorb the differences."

(or don't fucking turn up at all)

** Sponsored by the Belgian Public Transport System **

a luego,
S

ps I wish a lovely Easter weekend to you all and, if you are concerned by my lack of religious piousness - don't worry, god hates me but I hate him right back. It's like theological chess.

Guest Blogger - Aunty Marianne

And so as the velvet curtains part, an unlikely superhero steps forward - ladies, gentlemen and gathered woodland creatures, respect for todays guest speaker, the one, the only Aunty Marianne

Gather round, my children, for in today’s lesson, I would wax lyrical upon the subject of wine. (Wine encourages lyrical waxation, and luxuriation, which is why one waxes, for how can one luxuriate unwaxed?).

Let us start by considering wine in relation to beer. Beer is what the solitary male drinks to drown his loneliness, the fuel of youthful confrontation that turns to riot, and when it sours it is the poison that vandalises things and souls. As it itself turns to belly fat, it turns the sportsman into a mere spectator. It deceives so that the night’s new-found true-found love becomes the morning’s despair. Beer can be made in four days from pillaged grain in a jerrycan strapped to the back of a rebel’s jeep. It is a drink of the transient, a drink of the unrooted, a drink of the unhomed. It is a drink that requires no society either for its making or for its consumption, a drink discovered in the days before civilisation even began.

The grapevine, however, has been bred over centuries to provide the best wines. It must be planted on undisputed land, for it takes six or seven years to start producing sufficient fruit for winemaking. Its fruit must then be trampled and its juice bottled in a joyous work in which the whole village takes part. Then the barrels are left to quietly mature, undisturbed by conflict, and then the village bottles the wine, and then it is laid down to mature again. A wine will tell you, as it crosses your tongue, what aromas and savours it longs to be enjoyed with. And that enjoyment in turn brings families and friends and old adversaries around tables to eat and drink and make merry and forgive, forgive. The Romans used it to clean wounds, it heals and protects from heart disease and cancer, and aids digestion. It is not for drinking alone: wine is the drink a man shares in anticipation with his lover, that he lays down for his childrens’ weddings the day they are born, and in which he warms hands and hearts with old friends when it is the pleasure that remains in the wintry sun of their lives.

And this is why, if we wish for peace in our hearts, peace in our lives, peace in our time, we should all drink as much wine as we like. Amen.

Here endeth the lesson.

*Bows gracefully and offers her a glass of finest bordeaux*

History of Rome - the Best Bits and The Last Bits

By now, Rome was the biggest city in the world and strange things started happening. The Bishop of Rome changed his name to the pope - pontificating twat - and the people of the city thought they were the best in the world. Obviously, this really pissed off the rest of the world - a bit like Bushy Twats america do now. People were not going to stand for this behaviour, some were lying down smoking joints saying "oh man, this like totally sucks dude".

First the Visigoths turned up. The Senate thought they had the situation in hand and so produced some pagan sacrifices. Even his dodgy popeness had agreed with this idea which was strange as it was against everything someone in his position should be advocating. The Goths just looked at the Romans, tutted, lit up a few spliffs and sacked the city (as in stole the best stuff, not fired the city, well they did set fire to some of it, but only the shit bits).

The people in the city panicked - they were used to shiny outfits and nice haircuts made by putting a bowl on your head and cutting round the rim - known as the 'bell-end' look. To see this hoard of long haired people all dressed in black terriffied them, so they did the Teletubbie thing and ran away.

The 'Temple of Romulus and Remus' was renamed the 'Basilica of Cosmas and Damian' because it sounded far more Gothic, and they didn't want to call it 'Grrrr' either. The 'Temple of All Gods' became the 'Church of All Martyrs' because that also had a far darker ring to it. But peace couldn't reign - the Visigoths were into the more melodic Goth sound whereas the Ostrogoths were convinced the roots of death metal should pervade. Once again fighting broke out and this became known as the Gothic Wars.

Yes, you read it right, THE GOTHIC WARS - how fucking cool is that. Simplistically, the Goths were pissed off, the 'bell-ends' had all run away crying to their mums and there were no Robert Smith sounds to placate the disparate Goths.

Eventually though, the wars ended as various Goths got married and had children and lots moved away from Italy because it had looked good in the brochures but the reality was too much pasta, not enough decent wine and a general lack of any decent music at all.

Meanwhile, in the Fatty-Can (oh yeah, they renamed it Vatican) the black look had caught on. Nuns were invented to walk around in black reciting poetry for no reason, fat priests were employed to talk bollocks, well mainly about their own bollocks and what they wanted to do with them, and the pope got a balcony - because he liked pigeons...and shit, well, maybe pigeon shit. Anyway, all traces of Goth were wiped away from the Infernal city and so they renamed it the Eternal city.

By the mid-thirteenth century, the people had got bored of pasta and so appointed Bolognese as the Senator and said "For fucks sake, do something with this pasta will you?" and he did, and it was good. As per usual, someone was not happy and said "But my bottys smelly" and someone else said "I know him, he paints ceilings and stuff" and so Bottysmelly came and painted the ceiling of the chapel, which took him a long time because he had a really small brush.

They invited new and exciting bands like Michael and the Angelos to come and perform, which everyone thought was a really stupid idea but all the Goths had left and they could have seen the potential of one. But Michael knew what he was doing and did lots of really funky shit which spaced people out. Then word got through to Spain and Phillip the second took over because Phillip the first was busy, or dead or something.

*note - told you it was the best bits - Spanish & Goth - Hoozah!!!!*

After that it all went down seven hills really.

Here endeth the History of Rome

The Second Age of Rome - After the Salad Days

So, it was all going pretty good for the Romans. They'd invaded countries and invented taxes for those countries to pay for all the grapes and wine they'd been scoffing. The world stood in awe of the Roman armies because they had shiny armour and funky liitle sandals with straps on which really were setting the fashion across Europe. The barabrian hordes had no way to combat the highly efficient war tactics of the romans.

The Roman Empire grew, a bit like the Empire did in Star Wars, and the Emperor grew old and his skin turned a funny colour so he demanded that his face be placed on the coins and a lot of artists were executed for creating images where the Emperor didn't look cool as fuck and sexy. Unfortunately, whilst this was happening, the Egyptians, under Cleopatra weren't paying their taxes because this all went on Cleopatras beauty treatment - which apparently was really bloody good. The Emperor decided to send his favourite general to go and sort the cheeky bint out and thus Mark Antony was summoned.

"What I want you to do my young apprentice" hissed the Emperor in his gravelly voice "is bring her back to the dark side" and slammed his fist on the table squashing a couple of grapes (which he thought made him look tough). "Yes my Emperor" replied Mark Anthony, thinking it would be nice to have a holiday in Egypt as he'd always wanted to see the pyramids. Off Mark Anthony trotted to pack his flip flops and swimming trunks.

Some time later, he arrived in Egypt, where they were all walking like Egyptians. The Romans set up their tents on the banks of the Nile, had a few camel rides and some ice cream before Mark Anthony went to meet Cleopatra and tell her that the Emperor was really, really pissed off and wanted his money. Awaiting his audience with the Queen he rehearsed what he was going to say, and how he was going to put the fear of the dark side of the force into her. As he was ushered into the Great Hall of Anubis he kept a hand tightly gripped on his sword as the doormen looked a bit big and tough.

Then he saw Cleopatra and he forgot completely what he was going to say "Holy shit" was all he could mutter "now I definitely wouldn't kick her out of bed". Cleopatra smiled knowingly as the bulge in Mark Anthony's little Roman dress started to rise. "And what can I do for you my messenger of the Emperor?" she asked. Mark Anthony tried to clear the images of what he wanted out of his mind - surely it would be impolite to ask a Queen for a blow job?

It didn't really matter as Cleopatra had already decided that it was time she had a good ravaging, and Mark Anthony certainly rang her bell. "Would you like to see my asp?" asked Cleopatra - "WOO HOO" shouted Marc Anthony thinking his luck was in. Then he found out that an asp was actually a snake and not her maj's glorious butt cheeks.

But his luck was in and they embarked on a passionate affair where they tried to mimic all the sexual positions painted on the walls of the pyramid.

Back in Rome, the Emperor was getting seriously pissed off, partly because he'd been pursuaded by a tailor that walking around naked was a good idea and instead finding people laughing at his shrivelled grey conkers was not funny "Emperors new clothes my arse" he muttered. Also his bank account was in serious trouble and the senate were talking about taking over as he was making such a shit job of it all.

Messenger after messenger was sent to Egypt but no word came back - in fact no messenger came back. When they arrived, they were introduced to dusky maidens, or handsome young men, or camels depending on their persuasion and they had such a good time they forgot why they were there.

By now the Emperor was apoplectic with rage but his madness wasn't the wisest move as the senate had already decided that he was as mad as a pineapple and ordered his assassination. They all took turns in stabbing him, even his supposed best friend to which the Emperor could only say "Et tu Brute?" and fell on the ground with more holes in him than a teabag. Marc Anthony didn't care because he was having such a good time still in Egypt.

Thus ended the Second Age of Rome

The History of Rome and the Romans

So the mighty city of Rome was founded by two twins who were called Romulus and Remus. Well, actually they weren't called that at all, they were both called Grrrrr as they were raised by wolves and wolves can't talk because they're really just dogs with attitude. However, naming a city Grrrrr would have made the Italians a laughing stock and the Italians aren't known for their sense of humour so they made up the names and then their city could have a proper name that looked ok on the souvenirs they planned to sell to the tourists.

Over the years, Rome grew as lots of people came there to buy stuff like spaghetti because people had heard that it grew on trees and you could eat it and every night, Biggus Trickus would do his job as tourist officer by creeping around at night lobbing pasta into the branches and the following morning the tourists would marvel at the Pasta Harvest ceremonies.

As Rome grew the people dedcided they needed an emperor as all good cities had one so they decided to have an election. Maximus Clitoris decided to stand because she had misheard and thought there was going to be a huge erection, and she was damned if she was going to miss out on that one. The people decided that they didn't want a woman in charge as it would be far too much hard work so instead they elected Biggus Dickus as the first emperor. Unfortunately, Biggus Dickus lived up to his name and people decided he was just a big nob so they had him assassinated.

They couldn't dcecide who should be emperor but some wise-ass suggested that they might as well elect the greengrocer because then they would all get free food, and so it came to pass that Julius Caesar Salad was made emperor. However, it was agreed that Julius should lose the Salad part of his surname as otherwise some countries might get the wrong idea and think that Rome was ruled by a puny vegetarian and so he changed his name and thus began the Salad Days.

Over the centuries, the descendants of Caesar took up their position as Emperor of Rome and set about expanding the Roman Empire. They did this by building straight roads and the other puny countries gaped in awe and said amazed "Fucking hell - why didn't we think of that?" but it was too late as the clever Emperor Minimus Effofticus had patented the idea. Then they invented central heating and patented this idea and set about installing it in villas across Europe.

There were some bad emperors as well - ones like Nero who played his fiddle whilst Rome burned and the people did panic as they didn't know what to do and shouted "Nero - Nero - what do we do?" and Nero said "Shut up, I'm just getting to the solo". But overall the emperors were successful and they even created a senate so that the people thought they actually had a say in what was going to happen, but behind the curtain Gluttonus Maximus laughed so hard he nearly burst as he knew all the senates dirty secrets and knew they would always have to do what he said.

Even the rise of christianity didn't intefere with the rise of the Roman Empire because the romans realised quite quickly they were on a hiding to nothing so they invented the church so they could keep track of all the christians and any they didn't like they would feed to the lions, because people liked to go to sports arenas on Saturday and cheer on the Lions, cos they always won. As per usual though, people got bored quite easily and so every week they had to come up with new ideas - one of the most popular being Gladiators. The Gladiators were basically, the hardest bastards around and people would gather in the ampitheatres - for that's what the arenas were called - and watch their heros like Hunglikeadiplodocus kick someone elses arse.

Then a popular Roman called Enzo Ferrari came up with the idea of chariots and so began chariot racing but the ferrari team were untouchable as no-one could catch their chariots. Until a slave called Sparticus came along and cos he didn't give a shit he won all the races. The Romans didn't like this at all so they decided to kill Sparticus and so they went to fetch him but when they entered the room and asked who was Sparticus, the slaves stood together and shouted "I'm Sparticus" "I'm Sparticus" even "I'm Sparticus and my wife is too". Thus the Roman soldiers were confused and said in Latin "Fuck this for a game of soldiers - let's just pretend he's dead" and so Sparticus lived.

End of Part One - advert break sponsored by Rome Wasn't Built in a Day Builders.

A Non Valentines Day Message

As the official day has been and gone, I can do what I would do anyway - for you Mi Mariposa

I don't know how in words to say how deep my love runs for you
Too hard to replicate in verse what I know is so true
I do know that my love's intense for you, my angel of the skies
You are so beautiful, my perfect little butterfly

So many images I can recall, of special times we shared
How sacred I felt as you showed how you cared
For me, for us and what we could truly be
Together as one in blissful harmony

I love to watch you while you sleep, content and purring like a mouse
Dreaming of what I'd never try to second guess, our house?
Our future? or perhaps something quite within our reach
Memories of times not long gone, playing laughing on a beach

I wish there was a way that I could collect time, I know just what I'd do,
Save every hour till eternity passed, so I could spend them with you,
I love more than words can say, you are my world my special love
Mi Mariposa, take my heart, my passion and most of all my love.

I'm So Tired

"I'm so tired of being you, suppressed by all my childish fears" - not a direct quote from Evanescence but, one word makes a difference.

(how hard can it be? fucking big and thus fucking hard.)

how tired? - weary of it all

being used? - i don't even want to contemplate it

suppressed? - hmmmm, don't get me started on twat topic

childish? probably - aren't we all when we are stripped emotionaly naked

I should not post this, I should instead pay some jumped up twat or twatess to tell me I'm fucked up. Hooray, what a bollocks of an idea

All will become clear in the next few days,

For newbies.... sorry - having a bad day.....

For regs...sorry - having a bad week....

a luego,
S