She Sucked - Well, No More

Stupid bloody idea anyway. Who in their right mind would want to have anything sucked? That's just plain silly.

However, I got a call today informing me that she was not sucking anymore. Now, in itself that isn't really an issue but, if you are a vacuum cleaner - that's pretty shit as it's the only thing you have to do.

Just buy a new one - I thought, and apparently vocalised said thoughts, but then... It reminded me of a true story several years ago, in the UK.

'Kirby' cleaners were incredibly expensive - i.e. over a thousand squids. The sales-bastards were tenacious little rascals, cultivated from the most desperate areas of society.

Their sales 'pitch' involved sprinkling a small amount of water onto a bed sheet and explaining that everyone perspired whilst they slept. They would then apply the industrial strength suction unit to the sheet, sucking up dirt through the mattress to create a dirty ring on the sheet.

"This is what you sleep in every night" - the salesman would announce to his horrified prospective client.

On one particular occassion, the sales patter didn't work and the salesman announced he would return the following day at 11am to secure the sale/deal.

The following day, walking up the path, he saw the curtains twitch but whilst ringing the doorbell for 5 minutes, he got no response.

He pretended to walk away but, went around the back of the house and seeing a window open, climbed in.

As he carefully padded into the front room, he observed the terrified couple hiding behind the sofa occassionally trying to see if the salesman from hell had departed (not knowing he was behind them).

In a thunderous voice, he announced "Enough with the fucking 'hide and seek' - I found you. Now sign the contract."

The now, nervous wrecks duly did.

*Moral to the story? - Fucked if I know, but the muppet did try his pressure techniques on me and apparently a swift kick in the bollocks appears to work*

(oh, and apparently 'we' have a new vacuum cleaner - but, you won't find my fingerprints on it - I've seen CSI)"

Porn Movies

What's the fucking point? Granted, that is maybe not the best phrased question but somewhat ironic perchance.

I don't understand the appeal of watching two (or more) lubricated bimbos, shagging each other senseless. Why watch what you could be doing? DUH

It's feasible that these films may hold an appeal for those people who fell out of the ugly tree, hitting every branch on the way down but nature generally compensates. Even the utterly stupid must find the plot lines thin, if not anorexic.

*Large blonde/black/Asian - (some fucking idiot) walks into a scene*
"Whoops - there goes my underwear!"
*Cue some other weirdo(s) to start fucking with a relentless inevitability*
*Fade out / fuck off*
This film was sponsored by Kleenex - the tissue you can trust.

Whilst it is admirable that these films aid the masturbation purposes of travelling business people in their remote hotel bedrooms - do the wankers have no imagination?

Personally, I have always found them about as appealing as being slapped around the head with a large haddock. The films are pretty shit too.

Obviously, I'm not really a 'fannie' of this puerile media but feel free to justify yourself - unless you're Pippa Gore.

(I am not advocating banning porn films - anything that keeps the tossers away from me is a good thing)

Charlotte Sometimes

She's new in my life.

She's called Charlotte.

I love her.

Te quiero Mariposa y gracias con el corazón sangriento

*runs off to hug Charlotte again*

A Gothic State

Which is completely different from the United States (a place full of fat people with guns) - a Gothic state is a heightened sense of awareness, whilst imbibing liquids of a dubious nature, marvelling at the beauty of everything - oh, and the black thing.

However, I have entered the Gothic State and I didn't need a passport - apparently, 'they' were expecting me.

Ergo, it would appear that:-

Mini-Goth is a genius (and all the girls love him - probably some of the boys too) and is 'taking' stupid exams years earlier than needed. If the result is not an 'A' - I will be seeking furious vengeance.

Mini-Gothess is experiencing problems because her forthright nature creates problems for the idiots on the planet. But, methinks there is an 'arse-kicking' afoot - and she won't be taking the class, she'll be teaching it.

Mrs Ex-Goth remains as mad as a bag of squirrels - but she's not talking to me anyway - 'Hoozah - and pancakes for breakfast'.

Mariposa has come to terms with the fact that European Commission people are full of shit - 'poo' is the same in most languages but, just take the money and run.

In other Gothic news..

Goth has to do 'conference calls' with American Idiots again - it's a green day thing. Looking on the dark side, they are aware that I think that they are monkeys with keyboards but I'm not refraining from calling them twats.

Aside from that - not much news from the Gothic State - I have been (de)moted from dealing with shit to dealing with big shit (but shit comes in a compact fashion).

It could be worse - I could be Chinese and trying to kick the crap out of anyone trying to get to the Olympic doofers.

My Dick Is Bigger Than Yours

A good enough reason not to attend a school reunion I think. Unfortunately though, the time came to face my least significant enemies in the world.

"Fucking hell Goth - is that really you?" shouted a voice from the past
"A distant possibility" I replied, paraphrasing as best I could
"My Dick Is Bigger Than Yours!!!" he yelled

"Oh good" I said, "Nothing really changed then"
"Remember that we called you 'peanut dick' as you would never join us in the showers"
"I recall most things perfectly well thankyou"
"Thing was - you never came in the showers with us..."
"There was problably a reason for that then"
"Yeah", he said swigging another beer "You prefered to be in the library"
"Stupid eh? Full of books and erudition" and I tried to walk away

*small pause in the pointless conversation*

"But, I can still write your name in the snow" he said with bravado
"Well, I'd love to reciprocate but 'Shithead' isn't that complex"

*shit-for-brains looks around*

"Haven't seen 'Billy Big Balls' have you - been dying to take the piss out of him?"
"Be an impressive trick" I replied. "He committed suicide after your little tosser-gang drove him over the edge"

*Another vacant pause*

"Yes - he is dead - and I was at the funeral - unlike you morons. On the bright side, I was intrigued when 'our' Games Teacher got convicted of child pornography."
"Mr 'X' was what?!?!?!"
"One of those weirdos? afraid so, but looking on the bright side, you did make it onto his video collection apparently"

Apparently, the library is a better place to learn than the showers......

Back To Reality

So, having composed myself, in my perfect place - which was nice, and full of dolphins and vampire bats that only fed on hippies, and sunshine, and tostados con tomatos - I returned to the floating turd of Europe.

Am I a happy little Goth? - No, not really.

Granted, my little Gothic portions have a somewhat tanned appearance and I even went shopping for items that I have no use for at all (and could have stole much faster).

BUT

I discovered that, my little Gothess, is being a victim of mindless thuggery. My initial desire - to go there and rip their fucking hearts out - was countermanded by the fact that Mrs Ex-Goth, in her infinite wisdom-less, has decreed that I will not interfere, ever, even if I could fix things faster.

Mini-Goth (the Brad Pitt of Gothic-ness) had a similar issue several years ago. Back then, I was also not allowed to interject or generally show any emotion.

I was so desperate to bring 'furious vengeance' onto the perpetrators - but, I was told I could not. Apparently, the 'system' will deal with them, and spank their bottoms in a jolly hard fashion.

*Deep Breath*

In the meantime, I will remain the "whacks on, whacks off" person and hug some small trees

Gothic Holiday

Being Gothic, I'm not used to these 'holiday' type things. All of that pissing about with postcards and suncream is not really on a Gothic agenda at all. However, due to the fact that I was wound tighter than an 'E'-string on a mandolin, I acquiesced at the prospect of going back to Spain.

So, having braved the parade of idiots at the airport, the moronic tendencies of hire-car people, and the sun, we arrived at the hotel.

Sun, sea and boat rides to see some dolphins (doing what dolphins do - i.e. swimming in the sea) were advertised.

I couldn't avoid the sun - much as I tried but, fortunately, I didn't turn into a pile of dust. I do now look like a Gothic lollipop with white bits exactly where I left them.

I saw the sea - it was big, and wet, and full of water.

I also went on the boat ride, much as I loathe water with a vengeance, and saw dolphins. Were they wild dolphins? I think not - they seemed mildly perturbed but put on a performance at the front of the boat - in an arranged fashion. I stayed at the back.

Returning to the hotel, I tried to resist the temptation to entice the gorgeous Scandinavian receptionist back to the room.

Why? What man could resist a beautiful girl with pert breasts?

Don't know - don't care because I am no man, I'm a Goth and in my bed lies a woman.

Not just any woman - but, in my Gothic opinion, a slice of heaven and the reason I have gone from 'mandolin' to 'cello', briefly passing a 'harpsicord' on the way for Gothic effect.

Te quiero Mariposa - mi media naranja