It seems like i'm moaning on a lot lately but it also seems like everything in my life is going up in flames, and not for the first time either. I guess im just lucky ive got you guys to talk to about it all. i feel really used to be honest. i have a friend, or should i say, had a friend. And he's been through a real rough time over the past few weeks as something that happened years ago, seems to be haunting him. I think im the only person he has talked to properly about it. i made im go to a councillor and hestarted constantly screaming and shouting and blaming me for werid things.i dont hate him, i just feel a bit used. you know what im saying. the thing that really gets me though is that he had the nerve to say to me that im a bully and i made his life hell. hmmm. that felt like a stake to my heart. plus the fact that now he is still draggin all our other friends down and they are constantly worried about him but i cant help them either. Grrr!
But hey i still have both my legs and my fingers to talk to you. It might sound really odd but i really feel better when ive written it all down and even though its a small thing, it kinda takes the weight of it off me.
i think that all nasty people should be locked away in a cupboard and made to sing about B.I.N.G.O the dog till i get sick of hearing it. Then they could read the bible front to bk then bk to front.
Well, after not seeing you all for such a long time i think it was slightly rude of me to go straight into my problems without a hello how are you kiss my arse or nothing. Well i'm sorry. and i want to know how you are if you'd like to tell me.
I might have some shocking news for you all next week. but im giving nothing away yet. its one of those tune in next time things. haha. they piss me off too.
i think ive discovered a miracle aswell. ok, we've got a cat called timmy and he's the cutest thing alive right. we also have a jack russell called snoopy, and they fight. proper boxing. but yesterday it was really funny cos they were fighting in the lounge and timmy danced his way to the door on his back legs. still punching away. as soon as snoopy had a pause, timmy darted up the stairs and jumped out the bedroom window. we just heard footsteps up the stairs, across the floor then we saw a black flash and timmy run off up the road. quality kamikaze cat. i wonder ow much his tv deal would get us. or you've been framed. wow. party at mine!
ok so ive been away for a while and im sorry but no flowers? no concern for my life. very inconsiderate guys come on? i dont suppose id best race to pick up the mail in the morning then with none of you caring enough to send a card. i had better save my energy so i can live longer and hopefully earn enough to pay someone to care for me and not let me rot. sniff sniff.
well i still love you anyway, whether you love me or not.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Saturday, December 10, 2005
brilliant minds
There must be a reason for people to be so individual. I've been thinkin a lot about it tonight actually. I think there's something fascinating about people, and the amount of variety one can find in different personalities.
Children
The minds of children amaze me, and although i have had to grow up to a certain extent I am proud to admit that I will always have a child like side to me. I love how honest they are with everything and how they say things exactly how they see them. Obviously its a sign of imaturity but thats whats so damned brilliant about it. They just see the world as a big open book that they have to learn from and ask questions about constantly.
For example, when I was three years old, and in the supermarket with my mam, I saw a lady with only one leg. I couldn't help but stare, but I just didn't understand, so i skidded down the aisle on my knees, looked up the lady's skirt and asked, "excuse me, where have you put your other leg?" My mam was embarrassed but the lady happily told me that I had to learn to play safely on the roads, as she lost it in an accident with a car.
I learned a lot from it and everytime i cross a road still, I think of her, but that's how the human brain works isn't it. Collecting as much information as possible, like a sponge, and learning from it. I guess its how we evolve. In our bodies, our minds, and our intellect.
I love the way children play. It sounds nasty, but the way they bully and fight makes them stronger as adults entering the 'big bad world'. The way that they learn their talents from each other gives them something in common and makes it easier for them to socialise, but their genes, like being left handed or shy, can't be affected by their peers. Its so amazing how children thrive off each other but still have their own opinions and questions.
'Sheep'
When we become adults, we seem to lose that innocence that was so essential to us in our childhood years. We become too full of ourselves, that we don't think we need to ask questions anymore. Yet, at the same time, some of us lose a certain confidence we once had, and choose to follow the ones of us that have not lost that vital piece of our personalities. It gets so bad that people will sit and talk about the people they care about and put them down, to people that don't matter to them at all. What confuses me is that they know that this is the wrong thing to do, but they choose MORE friends over GOOD friends, and they need to learn that there is one hell of a difference. This type of mind is one that doesn't intrigue me in the slightest, because it is such a shallow, readable way to think. Probably why I have no particular interest in conversing with them.
Individuals
I have so much respect for people owning minds that will happily wander whichever way it pleases. They often attract a gruop of 'sheep', but that can't be helped. The pure comfort with being themselves is so clever that i have the most respect for this type of mind than any other. People who ask questions everyday until they die, people who aren't afraid to wear red with green when it's not Christmas, people who stand up for what they believe in, however strong their forfeit must be. To me, they are the sort of people i could talk to all day. Just finding out how they tick, with no influence from anyone else. I feel its one of two ways that one can access a pure mind in an adult.
'Clinically Insane'
No matter how much some of these people may scare the crap out of me, I still can't help but wonder whether they should just fit into the 'individual' bracket. Maybe they can't, but that's got to be simply for the fact that they have one disability, which is to train their minds to work with their souls. That sounds really lame i know, but think about it. The only difference is that they don't know the difference between right and wrong. Some do but just don't care, but that's not 'insane'.
'Animals'
The sort of minds that have no regard for any other living soul other than themselves. Cold blooded killers, rapists, drug dealers. There is no other way to describe these people other than as animals. Like wild creatures, they hunt for food and there own satisfaction. If this means taking away someone elses happiness, they feel it has to be done. I can only think that there is a fault in the conscience of these people, no guilt, no regrets or compassion. They seem to be the more primative cluster of the human race. Maybe it does run in their genes, maybe its a throw back. Who knows, but to be honest I don't think its something I'm quite prepared for yet.
Well, that was deep! Nice to put it into words though. Its been on my mind and I like to put it into order and share it with a few people. Three things;
1) Don't be a sheep.
2) Don't be an animal.
3) Yes, sheep are animals, no need to be arguementative!
Love you all, Goodnight.
Children
The minds of children amaze me, and although i have had to grow up to a certain extent I am proud to admit that I will always have a child like side to me. I love how honest they are with everything and how they say things exactly how they see them. Obviously its a sign of imaturity but thats whats so damned brilliant about it. They just see the world as a big open book that they have to learn from and ask questions about constantly.
For example, when I was three years old, and in the supermarket with my mam, I saw a lady with only one leg. I couldn't help but stare, but I just didn't understand, so i skidded down the aisle on my knees, looked up the lady's skirt and asked, "excuse me, where have you put your other leg?" My mam was embarrassed but the lady happily told me that I had to learn to play safely on the roads, as she lost it in an accident with a car.
I learned a lot from it and everytime i cross a road still, I think of her, but that's how the human brain works isn't it. Collecting as much information as possible, like a sponge, and learning from it. I guess its how we evolve. In our bodies, our minds, and our intellect.
I love the way children play. It sounds nasty, but the way they bully and fight makes them stronger as adults entering the 'big bad world'. The way that they learn their talents from each other gives them something in common and makes it easier for them to socialise, but their genes, like being left handed or shy, can't be affected by their peers. Its so amazing how children thrive off each other but still have their own opinions and questions.
'Sheep'
When we become adults, we seem to lose that innocence that was so essential to us in our childhood years. We become too full of ourselves, that we don't think we need to ask questions anymore. Yet, at the same time, some of us lose a certain confidence we once had, and choose to follow the ones of us that have not lost that vital piece of our personalities. It gets so bad that people will sit and talk about the people they care about and put them down, to people that don't matter to them at all. What confuses me is that they know that this is the wrong thing to do, but they choose MORE friends over GOOD friends, and they need to learn that there is one hell of a difference. This type of mind is one that doesn't intrigue me in the slightest, because it is such a shallow, readable way to think. Probably why I have no particular interest in conversing with them.
Individuals
I have so much respect for people owning minds that will happily wander whichever way it pleases. They often attract a gruop of 'sheep', but that can't be helped. The pure comfort with being themselves is so clever that i have the most respect for this type of mind than any other. People who ask questions everyday until they die, people who aren't afraid to wear red with green when it's not Christmas, people who stand up for what they believe in, however strong their forfeit must be. To me, they are the sort of people i could talk to all day. Just finding out how they tick, with no influence from anyone else. I feel its one of two ways that one can access a pure mind in an adult.
'Clinically Insane'
No matter how much some of these people may scare the crap out of me, I still can't help but wonder whether they should just fit into the 'individual' bracket. Maybe they can't, but that's got to be simply for the fact that they have one disability, which is to train their minds to work with their souls. That sounds really lame i know, but think about it. The only difference is that they don't know the difference between right and wrong. Some do but just don't care, but that's not 'insane'.
'Animals'
The sort of minds that have no regard for any other living soul other than themselves. Cold blooded killers, rapists, drug dealers. There is no other way to describe these people other than as animals. Like wild creatures, they hunt for food and there own satisfaction. If this means taking away someone elses happiness, they feel it has to be done. I can only think that there is a fault in the conscience of these people, no guilt, no regrets or compassion. They seem to be the more primative cluster of the human race. Maybe it does run in their genes, maybe its a throw back. Who knows, but to be honest I don't think its something I'm quite prepared for yet.
Well, that was deep! Nice to put it into words though. Its been on my mind and I like to put it into order and share it with a few people. Three things;
1) Don't be a sheep.
2) Don't be an animal.
3) Yes, sheep are animals, no need to be arguementative!
Love you all, Goodnight.
Monday, December 05, 2005
mission and a half
It was strange seeing the world in a weekend. Since Thursday I have spent a hell of a lot of time travelling, partying and watching movies. Sound like a relaxing weekend? Oh God you couldn't be more wrong! I was subjected to twelve hours of Superman. Forgive me, but I have never really been a superhero fan, and twelve hours seems a bit much. I see all men as though they are wearing tights and weigh 225lbs. Well i suppose that was maybe a bonus with the whole thing!
Ok, so Thursday I was in Manchester, Moss side to be specific. Not much to tell to be honest, but if there was, I either don't remember due to heavy party spirit, or it got stolen.
Friday I was the proud owner of the world record for the longest lie in ever, (discounting students). Finally got up at 3.30pm and travelled straight back to Stoke. I was home for two hours and was abducted by a blast from the past in a white rover metro, otherwise known as Alastair. We journeyed up to Keele for no reason other than, 'It has a Burger King!' Whilst in Keele, we were invited to go see an old friend in Warrington who i hadn't seen for a fair while, so how could i turn it down?
You can probably imagine the look on my face. A combernation of travel sickness and pure exaustion, on the motorway at 9.30am Saturday. But still, you know me, partay partay partay!
For this part, campers, you will need to not inform he NSPCC of any information that may be leaked, have an open mind, an ability to easily keep track, a glow in th dark vest and a gun that goes ACTIVE ACTIVE.
We went and picked David up from his house and headed for the cinema to find out showing times. On arrival we discovered that we were all starving and two of us were in dire need of a hangover cure in the form of erm... alcohol. So we went in hunt of food and found Laser Quest. It seemed a fair trade at the time so we did it. Lets go. Although i was the only one of the three of us that had never been before i felt i had a slight advantage as im a shorty and could hide more easily in between the walls and behind the five year olds dotted around the place. Long story short, i was wrong and have never felt so much anger towards small children in my life, (and i want to be a teacher!) Severe case of having a lack of the three things i need to stay alive.
So we finished up and left for a cigarette, a drink and food. Killing one bird on the way back to the car, we were hoping to kill the other two by heading for Chicago Rock. Upon purchasing our drinks, we found out that we couldn't wait the 40minutes for our food, so me and Dave had alcohol for breakfast (Al doesn't drink, he's bright.). Anyways, we walked back to the car with 15mins to get to the cinema. Plenty of time...wait. Tilt's been clamped!!! Alastair went to the cash point to get the relaese fee. Louise and Dave?... Pub radar activated. And there's a story in its self. One for another time though. Lets just say a lesbian that would have found it easier to play it as a straight man, served Dave at the bar, as she had done a couple of weeks previously. (Eww!)
The clamping man let us go, which i was shocked about as i thought he looked like he was about to announce a mutany. So he hobbled away with his wooden leg and we drove away, ashamed and late for our movie. Getting to the cinema to ask for a refund or time change on the tickets, Alastair had left them in the pub. Sigh, grunt, deep breaths. So he goes, cant find them and we are luckily remembered by the cinema cashier. We have a personal escort ;) to our seats. (Told you i was a princess!) Anyway, the film was shit, I fell asleep and spilt my drink on my shoes. :(
So we went back to Dave's, ate sandwiches and they got me started on the worst twelve hours of my life. Superman 1, minute's leg stretch, Superman 2, minute's leg stretch, Superman 3, act 1, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, Superman 3, act 2, pee break, Superman 4, surreal feeling that my world isn't the real world and that Dave and Alastair are under dressed due to shortage of tights and cape. Not funny at all. Its one of those moments when you don't realise your falling until you taste the carpet.
Actually, all in all, it wasn't a bad weekend. Most interesting one I've had since my memory loss in the middle of Birmingham.
Love you all lots and hundreds, but i still feel like a pikey without a caravan. :(
i'm stayin home for a week. Except when i go on my date with the Dali Llama on Thursday. ;) I think im in there.
Ok, so Thursday I was in Manchester, Moss side to be specific. Not much to tell to be honest, but if there was, I either don't remember due to heavy party spirit, or it got stolen.
Friday I was the proud owner of the world record for the longest lie in ever, (discounting students). Finally got up at 3.30pm and travelled straight back to Stoke. I was home for two hours and was abducted by a blast from the past in a white rover metro, otherwise known as Alastair. We journeyed up to Keele for no reason other than, 'It has a Burger King!' Whilst in Keele, we were invited to go see an old friend in Warrington who i hadn't seen for a fair while, so how could i turn it down?
You can probably imagine the look on my face. A combernation of travel sickness and pure exaustion, on the motorway at 9.30am Saturday. But still, you know me, partay partay partay!
For this part, campers, you will need to not inform he NSPCC of any information that may be leaked, have an open mind, an ability to easily keep track, a glow in th dark vest and a gun that goes ACTIVE ACTIVE.
We went and picked David up from his house and headed for the cinema to find out showing times. On arrival we discovered that we were all starving and two of us were in dire need of a hangover cure in the form of erm... alcohol. So we went in hunt of food and found Laser Quest. It seemed a fair trade at the time so we did it. Lets go. Although i was the only one of the three of us that had never been before i felt i had a slight advantage as im a shorty and could hide more easily in between the walls and behind the five year olds dotted around the place. Long story short, i was wrong and have never felt so much anger towards small children in my life, (and i want to be a teacher!) Severe case of having a lack of the three things i need to stay alive.
So we finished up and left for a cigarette, a drink and food. Killing one bird on the way back to the car, we were hoping to kill the other two by heading for Chicago Rock. Upon purchasing our drinks, we found out that we couldn't wait the 40minutes for our food, so me and Dave had alcohol for breakfast (Al doesn't drink, he's bright.). Anyways, we walked back to the car with 15mins to get to the cinema. Plenty of time...wait. Tilt's been clamped!!! Alastair went to the cash point to get the relaese fee. Louise and Dave?... Pub radar activated. And there's a story in its self. One for another time though. Lets just say a lesbian that would have found it easier to play it as a straight man, served Dave at the bar, as she had done a couple of weeks previously. (Eww!)
The clamping man let us go, which i was shocked about as i thought he looked like he was about to announce a mutany. So he hobbled away with his wooden leg and we drove away, ashamed and late for our movie. Getting to the cinema to ask for a refund or time change on the tickets, Alastair had left them in the pub. Sigh, grunt, deep breaths. So he goes, cant find them and we are luckily remembered by the cinema cashier. We have a personal escort ;) to our seats. (Told you i was a princess!) Anyway, the film was shit, I fell asleep and spilt my drink on my shoes. :(
So we went back to Dave's, ate sandwiches and they got me started on the worst twelve hours of my life. Superman 1, minute's leg stretch, Superman 2, minute's leg stretch, Superman 3, act 1, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, Superman 3, act 2, pee break, Superman 4, surreal feeling that my world isn't the real world and that Dave and Alastair are under dressed due to shortage of tights and cape. Not funny at all. Its one of those moments when you don't realise your falling until you taste the carpet.
Actually, all in all, it wasn't a bad weekend. Most interesting one I've had since my memory loss in the middle of Birmingham.
Love you all lots and hundreds, but i still feel like a pikey without a caravan. :(
i'm stayin home for a week. Except when i go on my date with the Dali Llama on Thursday. ;) I think im in there.
Friday, December 02, 2005
i've got a brokened finger
Ouch my fingers ruined. It doesn't work anymore because I put it in the door and my Grandad shut it. Haha, yeah well I didn't laugh. It bends the wrong way now and its fatter than the other ones. Its the one you don't pick your nose with or swear at people with. Its the next one on my right hand and its well and truly buggered. Blood came out as well but its gone now so thats a good thing.
All in all, Monday wasn't my best day. It started out with my Grandad going on about me having an 'adolescent attachment' to my phone. I can't help it, everyone wants to talk to me. I think I must be a people magnet! Wow that makes me sound cool yet bigheaded which I'm totally not i swear! Anyway, he said he'd take my phone off me and never give it me back. I came back with something about my rights as a non-paying tenent and shot myself in the foot as he said he'd be happy to sell it as payment for the amount of electricity I use charging it up! I was fighting a losing battle so decided to be an adolescent. I stamped my feet as hard as i could up the stairs and played my music as loud as i could. It didnt work so i played music with swear words in and stamped around dancing and singing my lungs out. That didn't work so I did my Kevin and Perry impression at the dinner table. 'I don't care, thats not fair, I've got a LIFE you know!" Again it didnt work so i went and took my phone from in the lounge and went upstairs.
That seems like what i should have done in the first place, but clearly it was the wrong move at any time of the day. I thought i was fine seeing as it was still feeding time at the zoo downstairs, and i didn't think my Grandad would notice for a while and i as going out an hour later so I assumed that I was clever and he was stupid and i had won. But it turns out that my Grandad has a different role in the zoo than i thought. He's not a pig at the trough, he's an illegal nuclear weapon of many animals. And what a monster. 'I saw that.' He growled up the stairs. 'Erm, shit!' Was all i could reply with. I am of a lesser known breed of scaredy cats, and so i did as my instints told me best. I hid under the bed!
As the lion crept up the stairs, panting at the thought of catching his prey, the mouse lay still, hardly moving a muscle. The lion looked around the door cautiously and saw a tiny quivering foot under the bed. He paused for a moment and then pounced, dragging the mouse from under the bed as she squealed in fright and clung on to her piece of un-safari-like technology. He threw her about for a moment until she managed to escape and she dashed across the room like a ballerina on speed. He cornered her as she tried to run through the door and slammed it shut!
Then i felt the pain and called him all the names i could think of whilst plotting my revenge and wishing i lived in a binbag at the train station. When he apologised and left, i changed my mind. I thought it was quite nice of him to let me keep my phone and half my hand, seeing as i'd been rather rude to him. And i decided that living there wasn't so bad seeing as they only wanted my phone and not my binbag or my doorway. Yes, i had guilt and so went and apologised to him, although i was gritting my teeth whilst saying it.
Moral of the story; Being an adolescent is waaaaay to tiring and you should never underestimate the speed of angry pensioners. Take it from me, wild animals would soil themselves if my grandad charged at them with a chicken leg in his hand, spraying chunks of meat on their bed!
All in all, Monday wasn't my best day. It started out with my Grandad going on about me having an 'adolescent attachment' to my phone. I can't help it, everyone wants to talk to me. I think I must be a people magnet! Wow that makes me sound cool yet bigheaded which I'm totally not i swear! Anyway, he said he'd take my phone off me and never give it me back. I came back with something about my rights as a non-paying tenent and shot myself in the foot as he said he'd be happy to sell it as payment for the amount of electricity I use charging it up! I was fighting a losing battle so decided to be an adolescent. I stamped my feet as hard as i could up the stairs and played my music as loud as i could. It didnt work so i played music with swear words in and stamped around dancing and singing my lungs out. That didn't work so I did my Kevin and Perry impression at the dinner table. 'I don't care, thats not fair, I've got a LIFE you know!" Again it didnt work so i went and took my phone from in the lounge and went upstairs.
That seems like what i should have done in the first place, but clearly it was the wrong move at any time of the day. I thought i was fine seeing as it was still feeding time at the zoo downstairs, and i didn't think my Grandad would notice for a while and i as going out an hour later so I assumed that I was clever and he was stupid and i had won. But it turns out that my Grandad has a different role in the zoo than i thought. He's not a pig at the trough, he's an illegal nuclear weapon of many animals. And what a monster. 'I saw that.' He growled up the stairs. 'Erm, shit!' Was all i could reply with. I am of a lesser known breed of scaredy cats, and so i did as my instints told me best. I hid under the bed!
As the lion crept up the stairs, panting at the thought of catching his prey, the mouse lay still, hardly moving a muscle. The lion looked around the door cautiously and saw a tiny quivering foot under the bed. He paused for a moment and then pounced, dragging the mouse from under the bed as she squealed in fright and clung on to her piece of un-safari-like technology. He threw her about for a moment until she managed to escape and she dashed across the room like a ballerina on speed. He cornered her as she tried to run through the door and slammed it shut!
Then i felt the pain and called him all the names i could think of whilst plotting my revenge and wishing i lived in a binbag at the train station. When he apologised and left, i changed my mind. I thought it was quite nice of him to let me keep my phone and half my hand, seeing as i'd been rather rude to him. And i decided that living there wasn't so bad seeing as they only wanted my phone and not my binbag or my doorway. Yes, i had guilt and so went and apologised to him, although i was gritting my teeth whilst saying it.
Moral of the story; Being an adolescent is waaaaay to tiring and you should never underestimate the speed of angry pensioners. Take it from me, wild animals would soil themselves if my grandad charged at them with a chicken leg in his hand, spraying chunks of meat on their bed!
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
dali llama, dali, llama, no thankyou
Ok i was at a mates thinking nothing of the fact that one of my very good, but totally barking, friends Alastair, was at a Thanksgiving meal at his friends' house. Now this very good friend of mine has a very worrying addiction to a little known brand of hyperactivating, super sonic soft drink, known as Shloer. As soon as he touches the stuff he's beyond help. His face muscles relax, causing him to look slightly tired and Green Goblin likey, his words come out too fast and all wrong, causing him to get frustrated at not being understood, and his actions become very over the top and he becomes even more eccentric than usual. This causes problems in communication and when i am happily enjoying at night out with my friends and i recieve a text message reading, 'Congratulations, you have won a competition to lick the Dali Llama.' what exactly am i supposed to think?
First thought, Jesus did I enter for that?
Second thought, that sounds quite sick.
Third thought, what is the Dali Llama?
As i'm slightly intoxicated at the time i put it down to that and decide to deal with it in the morning. I must say i was disappointed the next day when i found out it was Alastair on Shloer. Not to mention the fact that the Dali Llama seems to be a crusty old man who's good mates with Buddha, and i didn't even win. Nope, not a dime. GUTTED.
This leaves me with the hardest decision I've had to make in a long while. Do I...
1) Call Shloer and demand they send me a Dali Llama?
2)Call Shloer and get them to send out health warnings with their products?
3)Call the Evironmental Health people and get a health warning for Alastair?
4)Go back to sleep and stay hibernated till I forget?
I decided on the latter, but my Gran had other ideas ripping the duvet from over me at 12.30 screaming something about youngsters these days and hang overs. I suppose it was kinda my fault for having made the first words out of my mouth that day, 'Whats the Dali Llama?' I was force fed lentil soup and lectured about Georgie Best and the Irish lifestyle for the rest of the day. I didn't make it any better for myself by saying that Ireland is in my blood. Seeing as my Grandad's qiuck comeback was 'And we don't want to know whats in your blood my dear, but i suppose we will when your in hospital having it pumped in and out of you like a sewage tank.
I must admit I was slightly ill after the image of, well I was ill anyway. And its all thanks to the Shloer company and its brilliant idea of putting E numbers 1 to 10,000 in their soft drink and selling it to tee total addicts. I am well and truly filled with self pity as i even get the drunken effects of non alcoholic beverages. I think I might become a watertarian.
Nah, don't be daft. : )
First thought, Jesus did I enter for that?
Second thought, that sounds quite sick.
Third thought, what is the Dali Llama?
As i'm slightly intoxicated at the time i put it down to that and decide to deal with it in the morning. I must say i was disappointed the next day when i found out it was Alastair on Shloer. Not to mention the fact that the Dali Llama seems to be a crusty old man who's good mates with Buddha, and i didn't even win. Nope, not a dime. GUTTED.
This leaves me with the hardest decision I've had to make in a long while. Do I...
1) Call Shloer and demand they send me a Dali Llama?
2)Call Shloer and get them to send out health warnings with their products?
3)Call the Evironmental Health people and get a health warning for Alastair?
4)Go back to sleep and stay hibernated till I forget?
I decided on the latter, but my Gran had other ideas ripping the duvet from over me at 12.30 screaming something about youngsters these days and hang overs. I suppose it was kinda my fault for having made the first words out of my mouth that day, 'Whats the Dali Llama?' I was force fed lentil soup and lectured about Georgie Best and the Irish lifestyle for the rest of the day. I didn't make it any better for myself by saying that Ireland is in my blood. Seeing as my Grandad's qiuck comeback was 'And we don't want to know whats in your blood my dear, but i suppose we will when your in hospital having it pumped in and out of you like a sewage tank.
I must admit I was slightly ill after the image of, well I was ill anyway. And its all thanks to the Shloer company and its brilliant idea of putting E numbers 1 to 10,000 in their soft drink and selling it to tee total addicts. I am well and truly filled with self pity as i even get the drunken effects of non alcoholic beverages. I think I might become a watertarian.
Nah, don't be daft. : )
Friday, November 18, 2005
English country pensioner
My mam took a couple of her customers out for a drink in an 'upper class' country pub. It's my mam, her boss Rich, an old man that was just getting away with still being allowed to work, and his wife who was just about getting away with still being alive. Anyway, they all travelled to this local pub or whatever it was, and they bought their drinks.
Imagine this ok, two couples sat at a dark wood, medievil, old English table, drinking from country beer jugs and talking in front of a big old fire. There was another couple and a group of farmers on the other side of the room, doing the same, and getting slightly merry.
So the old man gets up from his seat and hobbles over to stoke the fire, very thoughtful of him, you may be thinking. But it gets cuter, even though slightly repulsive.
As he bends over to put a log on the fire he lets rip. Big style, loud style and funny style. My mam, being as polite as she is, in work mode, ignored him and carried on her sentence until she saw her boss shaking with silent laughter on the other side of the table, the old lady bright red with embarassment, 20 farmers on the other side of the room grinning and clinking glasses, and the couple near him looking at him in pure disgust. Stupidly, she decided to take a sip of wine to stop herself from laughing.
Then she saw the old man's face looking at everyone, as he was slightly deaf, he didnt realise what he had just done, and thought everyone was grateful for him stoking the fire. He raised his left hand and said, ''would anyone like another one or are we all warm enough'.
By now the whole room was in hysterics, my mam's boss was choking on his own breath, and my mam was wiping the wine she'd sprayed all over the old lady's top.
Oh shit, one of the farmers had raised is glass at the old man, so he went to put another log on the fire, and did it again. But this time,...
...well, his face was described as 'Colin Mochrie chewing a bag of nails'.
Well, i didnt laugh much when i heard that! Especially when my mam continued the story with, 'and i had to drive 200 miles with that smell when he'd gone'.
Pure unadulterated elderly comedy.
Imagine this ok, two couples sat at a dark wood, medievil, old English table, drinking from country beer jugs and talking in front of a big old fire. There was another couple and a group of farmers on the other side of the room, doing the same, and getting slightly merry.
So the old man gets up from his seat and hobbles over to stoke the fire, very thoughtful of him, you may be thinking. But it gets cuter, even though slightly repulsive.
As he bends over to put a log on the fire he lets rip. Big style, loud style and funny style. My mam, being as polite as she is, in work mode, ignored him and carried on her sentence until she saw her boss shaking with silent laughter on the other side of the table, the old lady bright red with embarassment, 20 farmers on the other side of the room grinning and clinking glasses, and the couple near him looking at him in pure disgust. Stupidly, she decided to take a sip of wine to stop herself from laughing.
Then she saw the old man's face looking at everyone, as he was slightly deaf, he didnt realise what he had just done, and thought everyone was grateful for him stoking the fire. He raised his left hand and said, ''would anyone like another one or are we all warm enough'.
By now the whole room was in hysterics, my mam's boss was choking on his own breath, and my mam was wiping the wine she'd sprayed all over the old lady's top.
Oh shit, one of the farmers had raised is glass at the old man, so he went to put another log on the fire, and did it again. But this time,...
...well, his face was described as 'Colin Mochrie chewing a bag of nails'.
Well, i didnt laugh much when i heard that! Especially when my mam continued the story with, 'and i had to drive 200 miles with that smell when he'd gone'.
Pure unadulterated elderly comedy.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
modern music, that is the question.
My mind is costantly working overtime about pointless things, as you have probably guessed by now. Things such as frogs and chemicals and things. But my most recent encounter with the strange reasons for peoples' amusement is modern song music. Ok so yeah we all listen to music at some time or other in our short, unineresting lives, but what does it mean to us and why?
People who sing about love
1. They are either too young to have experienced it or too old to remember it.
2. They also seem to work so much that they couldn't possibly have time for it.
3. They don't write the songs themselves anyway, so how do they perform them with such meaning?
People who sing about being poor
1. They are rich so why sing about being poor when your not, thats lying.
2. They earn shit loads everyday and give half a day's wage to charity in a whole entire lifetime and expect good publicity.
3. They get the good publicity!!! (that makes me mad!)
People who sing about stardom
1. They are just rubbing it in that their lives are more fast-track and interesting than ours
2. They usually moan about it in interviews and stress how hard it is.
3. This means they actually don't appreciate it.
So Question: What's the point in us listening to their music when it's either a pile of turd or a monumental waving of their middle finger?
And Answer: Clearly we have nothing better to do than pay to hear people sing song that they haven't written about things they don't know about, or are very happy about because we are paying them to do it.
So why do we think that humans are the cleverest species when obviously dogs are for the following obvious reasons.
1.They don't bother with language they just grunt, howl and shit.
2.If they don't like someone, they piss on their shoes.
3. If they do like something, they piss on it.
4. If they like a female dog they chase her around, jump on her back end, have their end away and strut off.
5. They don't use toilet paper, they shit on the footpath and we're dumb enoughh to either clean it up or walk in it.
Enough said really i think. So from now on I have made a pledge to myself to never buy modern music again, unless it has been written, sang, and promoted by dogs. Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera and Girls Aloud discluded from this promise.
I will write my own lyrics and play them on a plastic banjo that i will buy for the smallest amount payable at the Early Learning Centre, and i will listen to it on my own in a dark room until i can stand it no longer and give in to the sound of tinny Brit-pop, or ex Aussie Soap Stars on helium.
I will go cold turkey from modern music and cry myself to sleep at night, cradling my sore ears from the noise of my brainwashing addiction.
Goodnight.
People who sing about love
1. They are either too young to have experienced it or too old to remember it.
2. They also seem to work so much that they couldn't possibly have time for it.
3. They don't write the songs themselves anyway, so how do they perform them with such meaning?
People who sing about being poor
1. They are rich so why sing about being poor when your not, thats lying.
2. They earn shit loads everyday and give half a day's wage to charity in a whole entire lifetime and expect good publicity.
3. They get the good publicity!!! (that makes me mad!)
People who sing about stardom
1. They are just rubbing it in that their lives are more fast-track and interesting than ours
2. They usually moan about it in interviews and stress how hard it is.
3. This means they actually don't appreciate it.
So Question: What's the point in us listening to their music when it's either a pile of turd or a monumental waving of their middle finger?
And Answer: Clearly we have nothing better to do than pay to hear people sing song that they haven't written about things they don't know about, or are very happy about because we are paying them to do it.
So why do we think that humans are the cleverest species when obviously dogs are for the following obvious reasons.
1.They don't bother with language they just grunt, howl and shit.
2.If they don't like someone, they piss on their shoes.
3. If they do like something, they piss on it.
4. If they like a female dog they chase her around, jump on her back end, have their end away and strut off.
5. They don't use toilet paper, they shit on the footpath and we're dumb enoughh to either clean it up or walk in it.
Enough said really i think. So from now on I have made a pledge to myself to never buy modern music again, unless it has been written, sang, and promoted by dogs. Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera and Girls Aloud discluded from this promise.
I will write my own lyrics and play them on a plastic banjo that i will buy for the smallest amount payable at the Early Learning Centre, and i will listen to it on my own in a dark room until i can stand it no longer and give in to the sound of tinny Brit-pop, or ex Aussie Soap Stars on helium.
I will go cold turkey from modern music and cry myself to sleep at night, cradling my sore ears from the noise of my brainwashing addiction.
Goodnight.
setting a good example!
As an older sibling, of course, my duties to my younger brother and sister are much the same as my older brothers' were to me. And so, fortunately, i have them to blame for the unfortunate event that occured yesterday.
My sister, Charlie-Beth, eleven years old, has just started high school and during the summer holidays i decided that it was up to me to teach her how to look after herself. - A decision i was later to regret.
Nov 11th 2005
Charlie-Beth goes to the bottom of the road to catch her school bus and meets up with her friend Hannah. They meet and greet and walk together discussing the extension Hannah's dad is building on the side of the house. Charlie is in a bit of a sad mood as her mam was rushed to hospital the night before. But being a little tough-nut, she keeps it a secret.
They get onto the bus and sit down. Joe, my brother, fourteen years old, sits behind them to keep an eye on Charlie and make sure she's ok.
Hannah starts to pick on Charlie because she isn't laughing and joking as normal and Joe tells her to give Charlie a break because her mam is in hospital. Hannah shouts, "Your mam's not in hospital, i saw her last night!" Charlie turned to her and said, "She fucking is, love," and turned away. Charlie got a tear in her eye as she stared out of the window.
Hannah felt guilty and said sorry to Charlie. Charlie turned to her and said, "yeah and i'd be sorry if you fell off your scaffolding."
Pure genius even if i do say so myself. Thankyou. I never turn away anyone with bullying issues, but there is generally a charge.
My sister, Charlie-Beth, eleven years old, has just started high school and during the summer holidays i decided that it was up to me to teach her how to look after herself. - A decision i was later to regret.
Nov 11th 2005
Charlie-Beth goes to the bottom of the road to catch her school bus and meets up with her friend Hannah. They meet and greet and walk together discussing the extension Hannah's dad is building on the side of the house. Charlie is in a bit of a sad mood as her mam was rushed to hospital the night before. But being a little tough-nut, she keeps it a secret.
They get onto the bus and sit down. Joe, my brother, fourteen years old, sits behind them to keep an eye on Charlie and make sure she's ok.
Hannah starts to pick on Charlie because she isn't laughing and joking as normal and Joe tells her to give Charlie a break because her mam is in hospital. Hannah shouts, "Your mam's not in hospital, i saw her last night!" Charlie turned to her and said, "She fucking is, love," and turned away. Charlie got a tear in her eye as she stared out of the window.
Hannah felt guilty and said sorry to Charlie. Charlie turned to her and said, "yeah and i'd be sorry if you fell off your scaffolding."
Pure genius even if i do say so myself. Thankyou. I never turn away anyone with bullying issues, but there is generally a charge.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
frogs
Another theory, just go with me on this. On the news the other day there was this thing about how they are coming up with new ways to run cars in the U.S and one of their ideas was to use the chemicals in pond weed. This gets my cogs working of course and i get a light bulb... hmmm? what if a frog got in with its babys and its mates and they were living in your fuel tank trying not to get gotten by the fan chopper thing that chopped up the weeds. they would have a little community right? And they would evolve right? So they would probably build a whole city around the fan chopper and put a cage around it and that would be where all the unhappy frogs would go to kill themselves, so they would have to have ambulance frogs and coroner frogs and they would earn money right?
ok, this poses a few questions;
1. what would they use for money and how much would things cost?
2. would they have a windsor frog family and a tony blair frog?
3. would they have nice frog neighbourhoods and nasty ones?
4. would we even know their world existed?
This worries me because yet again I could be missing out on something thats really interesting and I have questions that will never be answered. I have NEEDS you know, and this world is not to the standard where it can give me the answers to the questions i have and therefore i have a big gap in my knowledge and this crappy world is holding me back.
ooh, another thought! Great, now i have guilt. I never thought about those frogs? Their world revolves around a fan chopper thing and they know no other environment apart from the fuel tank. Their knowledge is much less than mine. But if i got a long tube I could put it in the petrol hole and preach to them about our world and maybe they would think I was God. Maybe thats what our God is!!!! oh crumbs, what is this world we live in.
Conclusion;
I can now conclude that I have concluded nothing in my conclusion, but i have REALLY scared myself and pissed myself off at the fact that this world doesn't try hard enough to teach us pointless things. I have also concluded that I am still dying to meet God, but for different reasons than previously. Obviously, if he was a frog I think he would have had the decency to tell us right? Right?
ok, this poses a few questions;
1. what would they use for money and how much would things cost?
2. would they have a windsor frog family and a tony blair frog?
3. would they have nice frog neighbourhoods and nasty ones?
4. would we even know their world existed?
This worries me because yet again I could be missing out on something thats really interesting and I have questions that will never be answered. I have NEEDS you know, and this world is not to the standard where it can give me the answers to the questions i have and therefore i have a big gap in my knowledge and this crappy world is holding me back.
ooh, another thought! Great, now i have guilt. I never thought about those frogs? Their world revolves around a fan chopper thing and they know no other environment apart from the fuel tank. Their knowledge is much less than mine. But if i got a long tube I could put it in the petrol hole and preach to them about our world and maybe they would think I was God. Maybe thats what our God is!!!! oh crumbs, what is this world we live in.
Conclusion;
I can now conclude that I have concluded nothing in my conclusion, but i have REALLY scared myself and pissed myself off at the fact that this world doesn't try hard enough to teach us pointless things. I have also concluded that I am still dying to meet God, but for different reasons than previously. Obviously, if he was a frog I think he would have had the decency to tell us right? Right?
Thursday, November 03, 2005
i went a swimmin
Ok, I had a real moment of pity today. I went swiiming with my Gran because she's got artheritis and she has to go to the leisure centre to do aqua fit to help with the pain. She asked me to go with her because I wasn't busy and she doesn't like going on her own. So I packed my bag and we went. I knew it'd be funny as soon as we got into the changing room and there were loads of three foot pensioners in technicoloured swimming costumes. They looked like smarties and i was suprised when the water didn't change colour when we got in. A little old lady called Beth (fuschia), decided to show off to her friends and the new instructor and she ran from the door to the changing room to the pool, and jumped in. he went straight under and she was under so long I didn't think we'd see her again. When she finally popped up she had a locker key in her hand and shouted "clumsy buggers. Why can't they keep there property with them." I thought, "Obviously they didn't mean to lose there key because it's the only way to get their clothes back." As I was thinking this, the instructor said that no one had reported not being able to get into their locker that day. Everyone looked at her as she was mouthing off about young uns these days havig so many clothes they don't care if they lose them and that people throw money away. My Gran came to me and iformed me that she was the one no one liked and she was always trying to impress. I gathered that as soon as i noticed that she didnt have a key to a locker on her wrist or her ankle or anywhere. It was a slow motion moment where i felt the embarassment for her before she even knew herself. When she realised she was so embarassed she went pinker than her costume. I thought it was nice that no one said anything to her, but at the same time it made me feel really sorry for her. Do you ever get like that about old people? I always feel sorry for them anyway with out them having to get hurt or upset or anything. Like when I was watching 'Doctors' the other day and this old woman was forgetting things and her son was beating her up but she wouldn't tell the doc. I just wanted to give her a big cuddle.
I hate feeling sorry for people and not being able to help them. I need ideas on how to help old people without them feeling patronised. Help me if you would.
I hate feeling sorry for people and not being able to help them. I need ideas on how to help old people without them feeling patronised. Help me if you would.
Friday, October 28, 2005
pondering the question
You know when you're having one of those days where everything you see becomes a question? I had one of those today. Went to Hanley, (the city centre), and i nearly got strangled. Its like when your three and your on the motorway with your family. Not only is it THE most annoying thing that your stuck in a 10x10 box with the people you argue with the most, but they all seem to ignore you when you ask what that sign says, which ways London and how many brown people were in that Nissan.
Anyways, we were on the dual carriage way and i suddenly thought, if i was in a sound proof room all on my own and i was just listening, would it actually be silent or would there be a noise and i just can't hear it. Then it got me all paranoid that i should be able to hear it and what if dead people were telling me something really important and life changing, but i couldn't hear it because i did'nt know i'm deaf. That got me really worried that i'd give myself a heart condition, then i remembered i already have one and that i should really stop worrying myself. So here i am, sat in the car with the noisiest eleven year old you could encounter and the biggest fan of eighties music ever, trying to relax myself to avoid a heart condition and listen for the dead people so i didn't miss out on anything. Its a no win situation.
My short attention span led me to start wondering how we came to start up languages and how we got all our mates to understand us and teach their mates, because whenever i try to teach anyone anything they just glare at me for a while then slowly walk away. I guessed it probably took so long because everyone got mad at each other for not getting it right and they had wars and fell out and split the big island into little islands and moved out into big gangs and swam to the other islands where they wouldn't fall out and kill each others children. But the stupid ones that only could kill animals and climb trees got moved to the forest in Australia and became Aborigines so they weren't in the way, and thats why we sent all our prisoners there whe our prisons got too full, and thats why my grandad's been to Australia three times and been mugged there twice. Its also probably the reason why New Zealand's so clean and friendly and safe, because the prison guards have to live somewhere nearby. If you don't believe me i have three examples to prove my theory; Russell Crowe (thug), The All Blacks (scary guys in uniform) and Jason Donovan (sleaseball conman). Trust me, you have these thinking days for a reason.
Anyways, we were on the dual carriage way and i suddenly thought, if i was in a sound proof room all on my own and i was just listening, would it actually be silent or would there be a noise and i just can't hear it. Then it got me all paranoid that i should be able to hear it and what if dead people were telling me something really important and life changing, but i couldn't hear it because i did'nt know i'm deaf. That got me really worried that i'd give myself a heart condition, then i remembered i already have one and that i should really stop worrying myself. So here i am, sat in the car with the noisiest eleven year old you could encounter and the biggest fan of eighties music ever, trying to relax myself to avoid a heart condition and listen for the dead people so i didn't miss out on anything. Its a no win situation.
My short attention span led me to start wondering how we came to start up languages and how we got all our mates to understand us and teach their mates, because whenever i try to teach anyone anything they just glare at me for a while then slowly walk away. I guessed it probably took so long because everyone got mad at each other for not getting it right and they had wars and fell out and split the big island into little islands and moved out into big gangs and swam to the other islands where they wouldn't fall out and kill each others children. But the stupid ones that only could kill animals and climb trees got moved to the forest in Australia and became Aborigines so they weren't in the way, and thats why we sent all our prisoners there whe our prisons got too full, and thats why my grandad's been to Australia three times and been mugged there twice. Its also probably the reason why New Zealand's so clean and friendly and safe, because the prison guards have to live somewhere nearby. If you don't believe me i have three examples to prove my theory; Russell Crowe (thug), The All Blacks (scary guys in uniform) and Jason Donovan (sleaseball conman). Trust me, you have these thinking days for a reason.
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