tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15129473448621989482024-03-13T11:40:48.576-07:00HOW DO YOU DO?Oi, You, Yes YOU. Come, come, my confused, my refrained, my composed. And gawp. We'll be like 10,000 trillion OXO cubes . . .JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.comBlogger71125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-17160816871413415902014-08-06T12:27:00.002-07:002014-08-06T12:37:30.637-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 20px;">If your interested which i don't suppose you are but you're maybe still reading this at least. I've made a comic, it's called </span><span style="line-height: 20px;">'The Misadventures of Me.' You can find it here...</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: blue; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 20px;"> </span><a href="http://misadventuresroger.tumblr.com/" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="cursor: pointer; line-height: 20px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://misadventuresroger.tumblr.com/</a></span><br />
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JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-11539859123039863412013-11-06T13:43:00.000-08:002015-07-27T05:08:32.573-07:00screw the lines<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-large;">I don't mean to disappoint you but I'm not a very good speaker. I er, I mumble, tail off, repeat myself and have tendencies to use the wrong word to describe something with a degree of self</span></span><span style="background-color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-large;">confidence that on occasion is laughable and probably pitying. I can manipulate but it'd probably be so ham-fisted I might as well give you the blueprints. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-large;">I mean I don't lie but have a tendency to exaggerate beyond believable doubt. There's always a point but more often than not it needs to be extracted from the prolapsed pile of backwards sentences, veering emphasis and shameful punctuation spluttered out my hole.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Saying that, in my life I have exhibited moments of charisma, possibly even something resembling charm, and noted occasional witticisms that can divide opinion yet gather a crowd. Sometimes the clarity of some words that happen to trip out even get used beyond their own utterance. Electronically scribed, my words have harvested over 20,000 readers (20,013 to stress the overuse of "over"), though most of these are Russian robots. A view is a view even if you're not looking. I said that, just then.</span></div>
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If spellcheckers didn't exist my sentences would read like drunk texts from illiterate infant idiots. But it does, and maybe you weren't to know until I just told you. Though we all have little helpers don't we, do we? I have a habit of feeling I know you when I don't and then not knowing you when I do. It's not a habit more a flaw or a back-handed compliment to you or to me I haven't worked it out because I'm not as intelligent as you think. Which is now pretty low and sinking with the only thing stopping it from plunging into negativity is the fact that you're reading me and you regard yourself with above average intelligence, just wittering and twittering? Not even a sadist has this much free time nowadays, you're almost hooked, but to what? The arrangement of words to a preformulated set of rules to explain intangible impossible ideas? We're both quite flippant aren't we?</div>
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JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-57443867270925461572013-09-08T02:48:00.001-07:002015-07-27T05:40:49.599-07:00Phonies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US"><b style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">...</span></b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">HOW DO YOU DO</span></b><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Phonies</span> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">More and more people I see doing it. I used to only see them for a
moment, checking it or sometimes at the back of a bus killing time, chasing the
<a href="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01878/snake_1878153c.jpg" target="_blank">snake</a>, acting like they were popular but in reality just flicking through their
previous messages or typing some considered reply, but now they are everywhere
and everyone. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Heads tilted down, staring, transfixed on the screen in their hands,
some tap, others swipe a bit, most just stare.
Life passes, they stare, life dies, they stare, life gets reborn in a
miraculous turn of events that defies even our collective knowledge, they
didn't notice because they were too busy staring. And staring, and staring. And still staring. At least the hands free mentals are actually
talking to someone, flailing arms with those suspicious brain controlling
headsets flashing their blue or green lights, beaming up small-talk to their
alien captives. It’s ok, no one noticed, they were too busy staring. </span> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Sorry, what? Huh, you talking?</span></b><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">When did preoccupation replace occupation? Experience isn’t sacred, it’s constantly
interrupted or we interrupt experience because we feel something might be
happening somewhere else or someone might have done something that we don’t
know about, or we just got bored of time, a lull, a low point, a
point invariably in the past we would have endured, day dreamed, fantasied
about killing the protagonist of this tedium is now spent tapping and staring.
And the good experiences, those whiz bang <a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2122/2285660013_f9667ee1cb.jpg" target="_blank">moments</a>, shared special times,
they’re now just material for an update, a comment, or hastily shot video? Are we living for the moment or has the
moment become just another timeline, a footnote to our electronic life? We'd rather look at screens of each other
than of each other. Type thoughts to all
and sundry than talk truth to that special somebody. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Smarty pants </span></b><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">They need constant recharge, they cost as much as a computer, they
shatter if you rest them wrongly or on anything harder than cotton wool. They get stolen loads, with almost all your
personal details on <a href="http://www.phonesreview.co.uk/wp-content/phoneimages/2008/06/iphone-porn.jpg">them.</a> They're big,
they're heavy, they're always there to snap you drunk or in an compromising,
unflattering or just plain private situations, 17,000 times in varying degrees of
awfulness so they can later find the worst and delete the rest, like a journo
with an agenda, you become the below z-list celebrity to their own superstar
selves. Uploaded into their lifestyle
magazine 'Cindy out 'n' bout' what fame, what cheek.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">It's here, it's the Samsam 851vp p</span></b><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The screens we thought would create a glorious open future, have not
only caught but have held captive our attentions ransoming our lives as
collateral with no release in sight because the captivity is our own collective
illusion that we willing walked into, signing up for, spending big on smart,
because why wouldn't you want smart, it's smart, it'll be like owning smart,
it'll be like you're smart. It wasn't even smart, if that was the case I'd had
a lot dumb phones and a genius computer that couldn't close a program without
asking me if I want to. Well are you sure? You've clicked the "X" but are you? You selected the word "close," but do you, do you, do you, you fucking idiot?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">How much more future?</span></b><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So where's next, computers on glasses, always on screens direct into
your <a href="http://www.theterminatorfans.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/t1-0007l.jpg">eye,</a> computer phones strapped to our bodies. Implants, implants directly into our <a href="http://gnoted.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/01/virtual-reality-helmut.jpg">skulls,</a> desktop towers in our stomachs, fans coming out our shitholes?</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Eroding our core, sidelining direct relationships,
evermore things designed to bring us closer will ultimately not be used by the
advertising idealist's and marketing moguls flashy illustrations and viral
adverts but more like our desperate lazy, lonely selves, getting our buzzes and preferring
distance over direct contact.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US"> Is what we want or whether collectively we've ignored the
reasons and just bought the next one, and the next one, and the next. </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The machines are have taken over and we haven't even <a href="http://www.tntmagazine.com/image.php/media/content/_master/49752/images/informercial-exercise-crap.jpg?file=media%2Fcontent%2F_master%2F49752%2Fimages%2Finformercial-exercise-crap.jpg&width=450">noticed.</a> </span></div>
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JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-79705620127550760032012-12-13T15:11:00.001-08:002015-07-27T05:07:32.298-07:00thing-a-me<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yweR_z7CGq4/UMpV05CV76I/AAAAAAAACAw/X0GbBmlIXNk/s1600/THING-A-ME+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yweR_z7CGq4/UMpV05CV76I/AAAAAAAACAw/X0GbBmlIXNk/s400/THING-A-ME+copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <b>Thing</b>-<b>a</b>-<b>me</b></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: large;"><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">I didn't write this, I can't write this, I am not writing this, there is no one writing this. How does flexing a finger to tap-tap some pre-structured preset articulation based around a sudo philosophical art school rejected hipster trope seep out of me, it's bodily witness, now accuser, victim and I suppose, perpetrator.</span><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">What's to blame for the desire to brutalise words for the consumption of one man and his dog that doesnt exist due to said loner's inibility to physically own said dog because of a unhelpful possession of an extreme form of retardation. That and this whole scenario is set deep within the realm of utter fantasy. What? What am I writing? This obviously proves I have no soul, a stunted imagination and a distinct lack of understanding for disability.</span><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Why? Why what? why ask the whys? It's always why? Why are we like this? Why did you leave me? Why are we here, there or anywhere? Why is everyone insignificant to my own self existence, self-dislocation, lack of connection from a shared consciousness, an elaborate hokey hippie epiphoney that seemed like it should be true. It isn't, what isn't? I don't know, cells are communicating this, I am no more real than ultra-violet is to a blind, brain-damaged fraggle, there I go again.</span><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Perception? How whole can we be without our understanding of our whole? My brain hurts. The headaches, the hangovers, the comedowns, the comas, the strokes, the tumours, the cancers, the leftovers. The function, what point is the sustained function of self-preservation? Our brain ultimately wants to repair, wants to function, our machine wants to keep running regardless of reason. </span><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">The whims of it's memories prevail and our lack of control over it's innate programming, addictions, attractions, desires, hunger, aggression, angst, fear, and overall weird need to explore a jagged submerged crevis inside a partially collapsed mountain for 6 six hours in minus 20 just to see a bit more rock, a cave that someone had already shown you the pictures of. These are our mothers and our fuckers. These are the real one's writing this but for what ends?</span><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Ego? </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Proving to everyone this body can write at a slightly higher level than pre school.</span><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Self deprivation <b>/</b> sympathy? </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">God I feel sorry he's so mal-adjusted, awe I'll say this is "pretty interesting" to make him feel better, he might be on the edge.</span><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Illusion of interest<b> /</b> intelligence?</span><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Doesn't he talk about things I don't think or give a rats arse about? He must read a lot of shitty books.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: black; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: large;">Happiness? </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">This actually makes him feel better? What kinds of disturbia haunt that skull, the freak.</span><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Misplaced sense of self? </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He wished he was that interesting, it reads like a transcript of a college project anyway. He can't face his ordinariness. He is his nightmares and everyone else's real perception of himself, constantly asking questions like a curious child with distinctly adult testicles and no excuse for such a vivid taste in socks.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Attention? </span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Why am I even here reading every single word I'm now typing like some prattle addict, there isn't even a point to these words it's just garnering yet more attention from your life, like a time thief. If I keep you reading my time credits keep rising, if I write enough you'll be dead and I'll live forever.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: black; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: large;">I'll stop now, there is no point to continue as my brain has deemed this a fruitless act given the woeful lack of direction and endless self-loathing this deformed blurt now is. If a sentence or word has resonated, that was luck, though if that word was the word 'word,' forget it.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-33983249366122466962012-09-29T07:24:00.000-07:002012-09-29T07:25:44.087-07:00the odd postcard<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: left;">Thought I'd let anyone who reads this know I also do another thing that isnt work. I collect these postcards. I put them on here <a href="http://theoddpostcard.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">www.theoddpostcard.blogspot.com </a> They're like the title suggests a bit odd.</span></div>
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JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-3676760047187854032012-09-06T13:18:00.001-07:002012-09-21T14:11:55.868-07:00It's only you: The machine you cannot be.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;"><b>It's only you: The machine you cannot be.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">Self-awareness
cripples the queasy, more delicate members of our homosapian race. I join this
tertiary body of dysmorphics, recovering addicts and mal-adjusted self-
effacing depressives whom would treat these visions as a side effect, symptom
or some such undesirable realisation from the unending hallucinogen of life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">The
woowse now sloshes around my internals. Everything's wrong and not quite
intact. I'm starting to feel like humans should feel all the time if they
hadn't ignored or stopped to pay attention to what and how things are in
whatever named location they appear to be in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">I,
like you have no skill, no specialty that makes me in anyway divine or noteworthy
beyond whatever menial part I play in the continued tasking to keep this race
from cataclysm. It’s not important not like that at least, it’s not big. You've
ignored it or rather it's made itself ignore itself. The it, the interconnected
composites, our functioning parts, are floating amongst our liquid plasma
slopped beside our fellow organs, rising, pumping and multi stranded flexing
autonomously yet unified, synced. Though
strangely ignorant to these particular thoughts I'm thinking. That's
not the only thing making me sick but it assists in worsening the gurgles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">Bending
fingers tension tendons, pull muscles; pump blood down swollen overhung vein
tubes thinly veiled in semi opaque skin wraps for my delectable perturbation.
Like a magician revealing a trick or a post modernist building brazenly showing
off the parts of its sum, it's there; it's always there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">Why
does it make me queasy? Hu, hu, huh. Burp! It's rising up, outa my hands,
twitches, clenches hell's sharp stabbing starts. Why does it turn my food
acidiser to think of us as us? Why does it make my willy give me the willies?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">In
this state I can't even look at attractive people without a queer revulsion permeating
every attempt at my minds desperate innate attempts at feux eroticism. Yet now
I’m not fantasising about the tertiary foliage atop those tree trunks or depths
of that swollen glistening chest. I fixate on deficiencies and peculiarities
like deep-lipped wrinkles and the reflective waxy grease of an uncleansed ear.
The hump of a spot patted with foundation yet building, swelling in pustule
force poised to destruct, a burst capillary amongst a sea of clarity or as I
see it more potential ruptures, wriggly crazed blood vessels near that crevice
where crusty sleep lay. White soft downy fluff misting attractive attention with
white fear, a future bearded lady? Or worse some semi domesticated Bigfoot? Lower
down locks, a sly eyed fence of stretch marks picketing a panty line. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">No
ones immune. Stray follicles, any lump of any sort anywhere it shouldn't. The
patch of pockey red blushed skin on an overweight anemic's upper armed base
coat that's almost completely hidden we're it not for the large big mac meal at
the weekend and the preceding mild weather necessitating a freedom to let sweat
and bare more. The sentencing continues on autopilot the only slight relief is
repetition and the completion of a full identification. Then the mind kicks
back in and the imagination beats my twee observations with filthy hidden
horrors. Lice infestation, putrification, mutilation, diseases, cysts, warts,
sores, gaping holes and stinking rotten fungus. I stop, because it stopped
making sense or made too much sense. There is not a thing I cannot avoid
thinking of as meat, filth or living breathing rot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">I'll
start to feel normal soon. My stomach will start processing and cease
exorcising. I'll see the superficial once more and ignore the depths of those
pustulated sores. It'll be right, right is preferable to wrong and real.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">I share this fallibility as any man or
woman can. I've got ugly scars, veins, lumps, bumps and ills most if not all
you care to name, but I'm the judge for you and you for me and only I wrote
this.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-2945325362630006092012-03-23T13:20:00.003-07:002015-07-27T05:21:46.822-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iRXw5aUt4j4/T2uK6jXRVnI/AAAAAAAABHs/d1d_immRAeQ/s1600/how+do+you+do.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iRXw5aUt4j4/T2uK6jXRVnI/AAAAAAAABHs/d1d_immRAeQ/s400/how+do+you+do.jpg" width="387" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>HOW DO YOU DO . . . </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>British, English, ish, shhh!</b></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Life throws up bitter black choices, life-changing and heart-breaking scenarios for nations. Syria, for example, a nation struggling to escape the genocide and suffocation, believing what hope is left after the utter cruelty and injustice that has befallen them. A group of unfortunate citizens that sadly aren’t alone. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Britain, for example can at least take endless comfort in the growing group of fearsome existentialists discussing whether fish & chips or chicken tikka masala truly defines us as a populous and could they use it as a basis for their 8 part look on the British cultural zeitgeist? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Do we need to continue this endless analysis of our nations psyche? Our quirks’ and eccentricities itemised over and over again like we’re not acutely aware of them being actual, British, people. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Why is defining yourself something we either seem to need to do, or a matter of acute stress that we haven’t? Books, programmes, shows, reports and articles on: What is Britishness? What does Britishness mean to you? The end of Britishness? John Bishops Britain, Jamie Great Britain, Modern Britain, Don’t ever lose your Britishness, Being British. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Don’t we now have enough? Enough pouring over and dragging out trite generalisations and tired old types. Underdog, self deprecating humour, weather fixation, bad food, bad teeth, bad food that’s now good, faded musical prowess, world defining language, empiristic tendancies, it goes on and on into smaller incriments to the point where we’re unaware if we’re observing Britain, England, Camden, Camden High Street, or just our shop keeper we’ve delved, hacked, and boxed so much he cries whenever we raise our eyebrows.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Our imposed economic union makes us seek some sort of belated half-hearted cultural union. Trying desperately to understand shifts that aren’t that complicated and if we’d bothered to engage more with the other three countries bound to us and maybe those few million minorities over the last century or so we would had have more of an idea by now, rather than acting like a load of wide-eyed apes gaping through at people being people. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Saying things like: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">“Ahhmm, what interesting people.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">“Ohhh, I never knew they felt like that.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">“Um whoops, I didn’t know that was why.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">“That’s disgusting, look look. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: large;">Urgh, you'd never catch me doing that</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: large;">”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">So don’t forget the minorities, yes of course, like you can forget to mention the glaring fact we’re not a mono-culture and haven’t been for sometime. No hold it up like we’re proud, look, curry and jerk chicken, chinese and kebab, we love this! It’s like saying; we know what you make us, but we don’t know you, but you make it so well, you can be this. This, or a bad thing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">What these features show is our myopic perspective, how we like to praise, sing, show, tour and tout to everyone this multicultural wide diverse self-important land but the simple fact that, y’know, we are the only one’s listening. It would also seem we aren’t even paying attention given are failure to pass our own citizen tests.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I hope other nations don’t have to suffer this endless psyche analysis, but I’m sure we’re not alone. The Inuit’s probably debate the cultural impact of Pingu and wonder if igloos truly define them? The Sweedes would undoubtedly reflect on whether anyone really knows them or really cares they’re around? And the Americans, well the Americans are on season 732 of ‘America: Great Bold and Proud Yeah!,’ an unedited series that documents everything any American has ever said as culturally important and abundantly significant to world life. This is a nation so open about itself every part of it is on sale and ultimately replenishable like some ever fruiting hamburger tree or more accurately a Chinese plastic toy factory churning out commemorative 9/11 badges. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Generally speaking, through travel, TV and shared experience. Culture is becoming increasingly homogenised, so instead of fighting it, go with it, become a world nation, blend and meld and become an identity that can work together in shared experience, otherwise we’ll defend and embitter, we’ll squabble and territorialise. If something is so important and great and good, it’ll shine through and if it doesn’t it probably wasn’t that great. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Unlike Syria at least <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">we</i> get the choice.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-70081600277186459162012-03-22T12:21:00.000-07:002012-03-22T12:21:14.578-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aSVvpU2_djY/T2t6UWjIwjI/AAAAAAAABHk/4ikU5bjJN-w/s1600/ANNIE+HARRISON.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aSVvpU2_djY/T2t6UWjIwjI/AAAAAAAABHk/4ikU5bjJN-w/s320/ANNIE+HARRISON.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<h1 style="text-align: center;"><b><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Speakin’ like a Lundinner </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></h1><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoBodyText"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Extracted from guest blogger, Annie Harrison’s book, </span><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/0956914403/ref=as_li_ss_til?tag=findingmrrigh-21&camp=2902&creative=19466&linkCode=as4&creativeASIN=0956914403&adid=0P786V1ACZRDHDW5GB62&&ref-refURL=http%3A%2F%2Flifestyleguides.blogspot.com%2Fb%2Fpost-preview%3Ftoken%3DpCuRPTYBAAA.0WiU1kXgM-RnRwL0whzPVw.oqoLYo7Bs89-SpVue6wAAg%26postId%3D7008160027718645916%26type%3DPOST">About the English</a><span style="font-style: normal;">, this is a useful list of word pronunciations as spoken mostly in Lundin, of the </span>East Enders<span style="font-style: normal;"> variety. Spoken slowly and deliberately. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Abaat </b>– approximately, or in the vicinity. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Ant</b> – I want. Ant chips, ant money, ant work, ant to win <i>X Factor</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Ayer-powt</b> – the holiday starts and ends here if the flight isn’t overbooked and you haven’t forgotten your parse-powt.<span style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Alma chizzit?</b> - a request to establish the cost of an item. <i>‘Alma chizzit for a taxi to the ayer-powt?’</i><i><span style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Amant</b> – a quantity of something<i>. ‘Kev bowt a large amant of gold on ‘is trip to Doo-boy.’ (Dubai)<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Annuva</b> – additional.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Arf panda </b>- a large hamburger.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Art attack</b> – freaked out, as in <i>‘Don't show this to Dave. He'll ‘ave a art attack.’ </i><i><span style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Arskt</b> – enquired<i>. ‘Oi arskt ya to put mushy peas <u>wiv</u> me chips, not <u>on</u> the bloody fings.’ <o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Awss</b> – a four-legged animal ridden by jockeys in races. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Ass</b> – a domestic building in which people live. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Ass band </b>- forced to stay at home by the rain, when ill or unemployed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Bannsa</b> - a person employed to deny access or eject troublemakers at a club. <i>‘Mike’s gone got izself a job as a bannsa.’ <o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Bave</b> – to take a bath.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Boaf </b>- the two. <i>‘Oi Kevin, ooja fancy most, Tracy or Sharon?’ ‘Whoa! Boaf of em!’ <o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Brought</b> – purchased<i>. ‘Mick’s brought a new ass.’</i><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Burf-dye</b> – a celebration on the date of one’s birth. <i>‘Appy burf-dye to yer.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Cancel</b> – the administrative body within a town looking after the interests of its residents. <i>‘Oh me gawd Daryl, wive ad annuvva letta from the cancel.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Cantafit</b> - fake, as in money, watches, perfume, DVDs, sports clothing.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Choona</b> – tinned fish. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Cort a panda</b> – small hamburger (not as big as a arf panda). <o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>C’nav </b>- a request: <i>‘C’nav some vin’gar on me ships?’ <o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Danstez</b> – not upstairs.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Door-a</b> - daughter</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Drekkun</b> – what do you think? As in <i>‘How many vodkas drekkun it’ll take before Darren pukes?’ <o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Droive</b> – operate or control a vehicle. <i>‘If you’re droivin’ over to Kelly’s ass, c’nav a lift?’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Erz</b> - belonging to her. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Eye-eels</b> – high heels.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Eyebrow</b> - cultured, intellectual, highbrow. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Excape</b> – get free from something.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Faazund</b> – thousand.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Farva</b> - a posh way to say Dad.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Fatcha</b> – a reference to former prime minister, Margaret Thatcher.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Faye-fool</b> - firm in adherence to promises or in observance of duty<i>. ‘Oi’d nevva cheat on yer darlin’. Oi’d always be faye-fool, ‘cos I luv yer.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Fank</b> – thank.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Fing</b> – thing.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Fink</b>– thought process.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Fort</b> – past tense of fink. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Froget</b> – fail to remember. <i>‘Don’t froget, ant a cort a panda not a arf panda.’</i><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Frew</b> – in one side and out the other, or, propelled through the air. <i>‘Who frew a cricket ball frew the winda?’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Garridje</b> - a building where a car is kept or repaired<i>. ’Oi, Wayne, oi fink the motah needs to go in the garridje ‘cos it aint workin’ propa.’</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 369.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Gawon</b> - go on. <i>‘Gawon Kevin, eat ya granny's cabbage, it'll do yer good.’</i></span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Int</b> - indirect suggestion. <i>‘I gave Tony a sort of int that it was time for him to bave.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 369.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Ja</b> - do you, did you. <i>‘Ja like me new eye-eels, Tiffany?’</i><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 369.0pt;"><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Jafta</b> - is it really necessary? <i>‘Oi mate, jafta keep doin’ vat?’ <o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 369.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Kaf</b> - eating house open during the day. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 369.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Lad</b> - noisy. <i>‘Jordan, turn that music dan. It's too lad.</i><i><span style="line-height: 150%;">’ <o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: 369.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Laafe</b> – what you lead if you’re not dead. ‘Nan’s very ill. She’s got, doctors, nurses, laafe-suppowt and stuff in her ass.<span style="color: lime;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Lafarjik</b> – lacking energy. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Leev it aht</b> – to put something outside, or, stop it; don’t; no-way. <i>‘Oi Britney! Leev it aht, will ya? I know yer muvva wants us to set a date, but stop goin’ on abaat it.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Levva</b> - material made from the skin of an animal.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Lotree</b> - Costs £1 for a ticket to become a millionaire.<span style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Maffs</b> - the study of numbers. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Munf</b> – there are 12 munfs in the calendar year. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Muvva</b> – a posh way to say Mum.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Narra</b> - lacking breadth, with little margin. <i>‘Mum wonnid to come rand but changed ‘er mind. That was a narra excape.’ <o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Nartameen</b> - do you know what I mean? <i>‘Be careful. Tasha’s farva is roofless. Nartameen?’</i></span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Neeva</b> - not one, nor the other. <i>‘Did you go back to Sharon’s ass or Tracy’s?’ ‘Neeva.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Nevva</b> – did not: <i>‘I nevva saw nuffink.’</i><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>New-cular pa</b> – nuclear power.<span style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Nuffink</b> – zilch. <span style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Oaf</b> - a solemn declaration of truth or commitment<span style="line-height: 150%;">. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Oi</b> – either first person singular, ‘Oi fink new-cular pa is a bad fing.’ Or a warning, <i>‘Oi! Leev it aht! Vat’s me beer yer drinkin!’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Olladay</b> - time taken away from home for rest and adventure. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Onnist</b> - fair and just, without a lie<i>. ‘I never did it, onnist.’</i> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Ospi-dewl</b> – where the sick are cared for.<span style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Ov cawss</b> – of course.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Pacific</b> - specific. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Pa-fool</b> - having much power or strength. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Paipa</b> – tabloid news.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Pans an annsis</b> - imperial weight system. <i>‘Vis diet aint workin’. I’ve put on 4 pans and 6 annsis since last munf.’ (Pounds and ounces).<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Plammans</b> - a traditional pub lunch of cheese, pickle and bread. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Prada</b> – proud of<i>. ‘Ov caws I’m prada yer.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><br />
Rand </b>– circular, or a number of drinks purchased for a group in a pub. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Randeer</b> - locally. <i>‘There ain't much suppowt for a new sports grand randeer. Everyone’s felling lafarjik.’</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Reband</b> - period of recovery after rejection by a lover. <i>’Oi woz desp’rat. Oi woz on the reband from Jason.’ <o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Roofless</b> - without compassion. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Sand</b> – noise vibrations. <i>‘Oi don’t like the sand of vat.’</i><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Saan-widje</b> – a filling between two slices of bread.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Sarf</b> – a direction of the compass, opposite to norf<span style="line-height: 150%;">. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Saw-tid</b> - fixed, resolved, arranged, done<i>. ‘It’s all saw-tid. Dinner at the kaf ta-morra, and ven we’ll droive to the ospi-dewl to see Nan.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Seevin</b> - very angry. <i>‘I woz seevin when I got the letta from the cancel.’ </i><span style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Shaat</b> – loud voice. <i>‘No need to shaat. I’m standin’ right next to yer.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Ships</b> – deep fried potato sticks served with fish.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Ta-morra</b> – the day following today.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Tan ass</b> - a modern terraced house.<span style="line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Teef</b> – a set of hard, bonelike structures rooted in sockets in the jaws.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Tra-ziz</b> - an outer garment for covering each leg from the waist to the ankles.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Toma-a</b> – red vegetables used in ketchup.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Vat</b> – that.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Ven</b> - then<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Viss </b>– this.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Wanned up</b> – manual winding of a timepiece, or tension in a person. <i>‘I'm all wanned up at the moment.</i><i><span style="line-height: 150%;">’ <o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Wawazat?</b> – excuse me? <i>‘Wawazat? Who scored the winnin’ goal?’</i><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Webbats</b> – requesting the location of something<i>. ‘Oi, Stacey, webbats you put me lottree ticket? I fink I’ve got a winner.’ <o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Wevva</b> – the state of the atmosphere, or, expressing doubt or choice between alternatives<i>. ‘On olladay, the wevva was so bad we were ass band.’</i> Or, <i>‘Del couldn’t decide wevva to ‘ave choona or ships in his saan-wije.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Will</b> - wheel. Terry grabbed the wheel and avoided death.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Winda</b> – a glass-filled opening between the inside and outside of a house. <i>‘Shut the winda. Everyone can hear yer shaating.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Wiv </b>– accompanying. <i>‘D’you want ships wiv your cort a panda?’ <o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Wonnid</b> – needed, requested. <i>‘Oi wonnid to know if Baz was in, so oi tapped on the winda.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Wor-a-fantin</b> - A jet of water for drinking or a garden ornament. <i>‘Someone nicked the gnomes by the wor-a-fantin in Dot’s gardin.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Woyn</b> – Alcoholic drink made from fermented grapes, bottled with a screw-top. <i>‘Oi Paula, webbats you put the woyt woyn? Oi wonnid to take it over to Muvva’s for her burf-dye ta-morra.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Yoof</b> – teenager<i>. ‘Terry’s Mum is very yoof-ful lookin’.’</i><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"><br />
</span><b>Zajerate</b> - to suggest something is better or bigger than is really is. <i>‘Craig, I must've told ya a fazzund times already, don't zajerate.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Watch this: video of band, Blur, singing <i>Parklife</i> in full London accent. </span><o:p></o:p></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/SIEsmGzo2UE?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
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Extracted from <i>About the English</i> by Annie Harrison.</div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></div><div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">More excerpts at <a href="http://blog.harrisonlavelle.com/">blog.harrisonlavelle.com</a> <o:p></o:p></div><br />
<iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm-uk.amazon.co.uk/e/cm?lt1=_blank&bc1=000000&IS2=1&bg1=FFFFFF&fc1=000000&lc1=0000FF&t=findingmrrigh-21&o=2&p=8&l=as4&m=amazon&f=ifr&ref=ss_til&asins=0956914403" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe><br />
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</span>JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-65380631661562333292012-01-11T14:17:00.000-08:002015-07-27T05:12:46.807-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Something inbetween everything and nothing</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In-out, in-out, beats our daily breath. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Imbibing oxides, ailments and the unclassified fissions that seep from this city’s rotten core. Bitter, curdled and thoughtless we commute down prolapsed expressways wrapped in metallic asphyxiation or choked by chugging boxes avoiding nihilistic knobheads; it's your choice. While bile leaks from walls forming ever flowing pools of arbitrary stuff and relative nonsense obscuring any clarity of mind. Our only focus is on unending company posters and LCD screens that flash. LOOK, SHOCK, FAMILIAR, SAME. Destined to dose desire with death as we walk beside them trying not to notice the most obvious thing imaginable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">You have to look; they know you're designed like that. Receptive pupils without a teacher, merely an authority, the nameless ‘man’. Poking prodding, squeezing and squashing till little, if anything remains intact.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Keep the quo; keep the peace, the lies, the dirt, rot and ignorance for your eventual grief. Our eyes may gape open, well with tears, brim, leak, and burn down the face in a river of searing fire. So act. Act! Act? The play is nearly over and we've barely performed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But you're not the hipster, indie kid, raver, beat, gangster, suit or psychonaut. Labels are for supermarkets; people aren't 'big value' or 'pesto chicken'. Society desires us to be cheapened, reduced and sold out before a price of worth can even be conceived.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All our wants are in our minds. To some, a mental deficiency, a quirk, kook, a reason you are outside and they are not. So as men, women, rich, poor, brown, pink, happy and sad, all suck and swell our lungs with combined status as million to one champions of the sperm race. Walking there, on that street, with those people who've been trying just as hard as you to avoid any contact. Do not feel guilt, do not have shame for your inaction. Do not let moments pass, do not be part of the failure. Just do.</span><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-28230868535185370652011-09-19T11:37:00.001-07:002015-07-27T05:32:10.350-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>How do you do ... wisdom teeth</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Argh, owwh, mnmm, waaaaorr, ntss, orr, a, a, a, geee, iiioouu, fuufuu!" This is often the greeting you give to your new gum-piercing wisdom teeth. Welcome to pain, wisdom pending.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So, having evolved opposable thumbs, the ability to be annoyingly tall or dwarfishly small, or neither. Awfully perfect symmetry, A-symmetry, webbed hands and feet, tails and the creation and destruction of the freakshow industry. We've been left with four redundant teeth deciding to invade the delicate and harmonious balance of our mouths for the purpose of what?</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.mute.se/uploaded_images/DSC00035-778180.JPG">War.</a></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's not like anyone was, by 22, having trouble doing the chewing. "His meat just kept falling off the back of his teeth unchewed. He tried chew guards, getting someone to pre-chew his food for him, even installing a robotic chin strap but alas, he remained a <a href="http://www.greatwhitesnark.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/03/truffleshuffle.jpg">chugalug.</a>"</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Until, one day, as if a miracle like fluke was bestowed upon him, four large teeth came bursting through his gums almost identical to the ones he already got. No training, he thought. And soon, (if soon was measured in years) he was able to use these miracle teeth. And did he chew? He didn't stop. He chewed through wire, time, even his own mouth, waiting momentarily for scabbing, and then back on to chewtown. So satisfied he went out into the street shouting. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Low behold my new completely necessary extra teeth!" And the populous of the part of the street where he was lowing and beholding on, did wish and were granted them too. And forever they were known as wise Dom's teeth. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Over time and the amalgamating craze of 1853 they became known as simply wisdom teeth.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Wisdom is a beautiful thing an enlightening and beguiling trait. It is gained through knowledge of experience and a digestion of those experiences as edifying and useful lessons, it is not teeth, it is not molar teeth, it is not measured in teeth or can be found in teeth. It is found above the teeth, in the brain. Quite why someone with a brain decided to call these teeth wisdom is beyond me if he or she had to go through the process of acquiring them. If they had, then maybe I could suggest more appropriate names: </span><br />
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<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> E</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">-bar ech as like?! </span></li>
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<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Oh God noooo </span></li>
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<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">ARGH GEZZ FUCKIN ARGHHH! </span></li>
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<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Get out of my mouths. </span></li>
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<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Bastard! </span></li>
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<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Why, oh the shit why?</span></li>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">People who don't have problems with wisdom teeth exist. These completely lovely people at inopportune times tell tales of when 'they too' had their wisdom teeth and how 'utterly painless' it was.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"I don't know why you're complaining, when I went to the dentist and he said he could just pull them out and I said yes and it was all over in a 'jiffee.' Here have a paracetamol."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.woosk.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/stoned.jpg">"I need crack!"</a></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So now you’ve finally got them. You're 45 and they’re here, whoopie do, but wait, you’re teeth have moved, that lovely smile you had looks like Stonehenge after a tornado. People do those looks of shock masked inside disgust whenever you even half smile. So for the remaining 27 years of your life you become the <a href="http://images4.fanpop.com/image/photos/19300000/Mr-Bean-mr-bean-19368995-513-645.jpg">moody mute.</a></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's a hard life, whenever people ask, ‘what's wrong?’ You just look back attempting to express sadness at the sentence human tactlessness has served on your own genetic casualty.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have a friend and he has a kinda neurosis about <a href="http://garth-simmons.blogspot.com/2011/08/nightmares-about-teeth-with-death.html">teeth,</a> fears, nightmares, a general sense of unease about the elemental idea of teeth, and he's not alone. I'm surprised there aren't people who fear their lungs, kidneys or brain and any other such organ could fail or be unreliant, or is even there? There could be great legions of the human race in perpetual paranoia. Bathed in information and mis-information, diagrams and distress. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Maybe I just haven't got the patience, a high pain threshold or a good dentist.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don't mind dentists, people seem to recoil at the very idea of their existence. I think doctors or policemen should be feared more. They have the potential to accidently kill you or in the case of the police, kill you. The worst a dentist could do is not fix something properly or cause you pain while performing said procedure. Why even entertain that just do like my granny and thousands of others did, healthy or rotten get them all pulled out at 25 and receive a brand new set of sparkling dentures. No more brushing, no more dentist, you're <a href="http://www.anothermag.com/filestorage/86873.jpg">fully furnished.</a></span></div>
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JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-17386239552468159092011-09-04T15:19:00.000-07:002015-07-27T05:45:29.953-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">the utter joy that is Glee</span></span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Shower me</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Happiness is in the name so how can I not throw my jaw open and sing loud and proud like the Gleek I am to my Karaoke DVD Wii version of Glee! I don't know. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Why is it I get sharp neurological migraines as my brain warns me that I'm in danger or distress and seemingly against human nature it proceeds to shut down various organs in order to avoid this strain of a virus called Glee? I don’t know. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">How come a good year or so after it’s saturation of everything, it's <i>still</i> burning away in the back-splashes of life determined to deface anything pure or new, clinging on with bloodied nails and smeared-on American smiles? I don’t know, but I’m going to find out or become one <a href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1065/5110297458_64a82900d9.jpg">satisfied sadist.</a><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">What is this craze?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">When I first heard about Glee, my angle surprisingly was the unequivocal skeptic, especially whenever the media uses words as; <a href="http://www.whatsonxiamen.com/news_images/7670_2.jpg">craze, </a><a href="http://2pep.com/funny%20pics/funny%20hilarious/super_funny_hilarious_pictures_crazy_fun_laughing_cops_arresting_storm_trooper-4100.jpg">storm,</a> <a href="http://www.blogcdn.com/wow.joystiq.com/media/2008/08/zz11c19b92.jpg">furor </a>or <a href="http://www.cam-ryte.com/images/Showerhead.jpg">sensation</a> and it didn't fail to confirm my good choice in spotting an incoming turd tide. </span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Much like those kids who didn’t piss around in geography class then went on holiday to Indonesia a few years ago and just when the tide went out and out and a bit further out, warned people that something inextricably awful was about to happen, I’m saying they might not have been just referring to the Tsunami.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I have to also admit I do hate musical actors and actresses due to having to endure a daily bus-ride into college with a gaggle of teenage Dorothy’s simultaneously singing everything and nothing. But after all that I do like Mary Poppins, so, <a href="http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2011/006/8/c/mary_poppins_blackandwhite_by_morticias-d36kbnd.jpg">y’know?</a><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">When you hear people bemoan something you can guarantee other people will shoot back and say. 'Well don't watch it, don't listen to it, you don’t have to, nobody’s forcing you to, buddy.' That’s just the point, with our omnipresent media platforms. I hear Glee through people's playlists, the radio, I see Glee on neon billboards, shop fronts, chests, magazines, papers, leaflets, TV, even my own computer there is hardly a single source that isn’t engaging in its presence and if it was it’d be “in denial” or not “current” enough. <i>This</i> is, in itself, perpetuating my pain by promoting the subject of my pain leading to a longer lifespan by mere default. I'm hate myself.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;">Yeah so in this next scene Will Burroughs is gonna be chewing some opiates when Jimmy Dean leans over and unzips his pants and proceeds to give Will oral sex, camera pans back and they’re in front of the whole class of Marxist teddy boys who burst into ‘Waiting for the great leap forward’ in Hebrew. </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Counter culture has been hijacked, it’s by definition the alternative from the mainstream accepted culture. Glee is not, even when wrote about ironically Glee is not counter culture unless that counter is in Tescos and that culture is cheap doughnuts that are making you die in pools of jam.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://cf1.imgobject.com/posters/8f9/4bc940f5017a3c57fe01b8f9/revenge-of-the-nerds-original.jpg">‘Revenge of the Nerds’</a> though a fabricated stereotype of a parody was more an accurate portrayal of the ignored classes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Yeah but isn't that gym instructor amazing, she's such a brilliant actress, so dark and sharp. If a banana were in a sea of turds, it'd stand out. I'm not saying she's awful; she's obviously a great actress, so why surround yourself with emptiness?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Someone somewhere has put the Glee soundtrack on. How many of these fucking abominations are there circulating, millions, if I devote my whole life trying to track down and murder each and every copy I’d die before they’d die. I think I might buy some sort of ‘no more nails’ for my ears. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Songs are wrote and designed to hit the parts of your brain associated with musical pleasure but unlike </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">morphine and like heroine a lot of shit gets added until in glee’s sake, it's pretty much all shit. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I’m no muso, the first single I ever bought was called <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1yvQ8DiP5AM/Tie92yFT8DI/AAAAAAAADYI/3xC6ykBIOZU/s1600/long-hair+2.jpg">A la la la la la la la long,</a> the first album I bought was <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QBSItvlLu4A/S8nThaA8D8I/AAAAAAAAAdw/B-dGt8tFMFA/s1600/Teenage+Mutant+Ninja+Turtles+III-a.png">Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles;</a> in audio terms I would have deafened me. Yet despite this, despite swapping <a href="http://www.2dorks.com/gallery/2004/whatever/wonder_paul.jpg">Elvis Costello</a> for <a href="http://revolutioninfiction.files.wordpress.com/2009/06/infocowardlylion.jpg">Bon Jovi </a>and the fucking <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FYZl6amkjGA/TLccsF7brKI/AAAAAAAAAjs/D0vO9fjyX3w/s1600/Mr+Beard.jpg">Eurhythmics,</a> despite some shock flirting with the music of <a href="http://cua.mit.edu/ketterle_group/group_info/Group%20photos/group98-8.jpg">Eternal </a>and <a href="http://www.nanchuanminerals.com/images/BigMountain2.JPG">Big Mountain,</a> I got back on the begrudged music wagon, stopping only once more to buy the Bombfunk MCs album, it’s ok, it was like the time you forget what dirt tastes like then lick a shoe. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Glee is a profusely obease sweating poo farmer’s brogue.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">What a wondrous board meeting at Fox it was that day. “Hey Doug look, look, we can recycle the loser sign, for profit, high five.” Because they’re losers, wink-wink that’s the perception but we’ll employ good looking actors to play them, able bodied to play the disabled. They’re like black people with the N word, yes, this is a revolution of empowerment over 22 episodes with a Christmas special and everyone's a celebrity guest star.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Huh</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;">It's not the fact every muscle in my body is aching for some remote, time travelling self-combustion, or there's a rule basically ugly people are never on TV unless they are ridiculed or made-over.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Thing is, I haven’t even watched a whole episode, this is merely coming from an abstracted <span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">perceptive perspective.</span> </span>Drawn from the poop shoots of adverts, tie-ins and toss offs to. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">In the 21<sup>st</sup> century if TV wants to sell an audience a product to a certain demographic that <i>you</i> fall into, it’ll make <i>you</i> abundantly clear of what it wants <i>you</i> to like. Or in relation to Glee start in one market then smear it’s clamidya all over everyones penis’, even giving people penis’ so that can get a good old milky smear too.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Just dandy</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">For about another thirty five - forty years before I die (reckon I’ll get to see pensioner status.) You and I’ll have to endure the repetitive outpouring of what mainstream culture depicts counter culture and the recursive elements it sacrifices for the sake of ratings and entertainment. With the ever desirable penetration by both Britain and America of each other’s markets, this is going to get much uglier than Glee and messier than the Beastie Boys in London Zoo recording Live Lubetronics.</span></span></div>
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JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-39483553779360098722011-08-28T03:01:00.000-07:002015-07-27T05:50:46.106-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">HOW DO YOU DO… tubes</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 20pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">The humble rumble, zippy & bungle.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">Under your feet, if your feet are in London, and if you stand in a specific place. Under your feet, rumbling hot and fast are 1500 humans hurtling to wherever. That’s if it's rush hour, if the trains are not held or out of service and it isn't the minute or two between one departing and its brother arriving, oh and you’re not at <s>Blackfriers </s>before 2012. Under is a whole system echoing and shortcutting the sloppy twisted tarmac. You are sandwiched between sky planes and tube trains, under, above and attempting to flatten your feet are fast moving metal stuff with people in it, welcome to mass transport, though it looks a lot like messy transport with a bit of lippy.</span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Day __</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #ffd966;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;">“Doors closing, Beep, beep, beep, beep. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;">The next stop will be, Cockfosters.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><i>Where does Cockfosters come from, a place that foster’s Australian-penis birds?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">Mind the doors, mind the gap, and mind your face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #ffd966;">“Shhhhuuuuump.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">Hey her hair!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;">“Ouch.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fabf8f;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">"Grab that bar." </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">"Oh sorry I didn’t notice your hand."</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;">“Ow.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fabf8f;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">“Sorry, bit unstable.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #ffd966;">“The next stop will be…”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #943634;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">“I know I know,”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #ffd966;">“…Cockfosters.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #943634;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">“Orr hillo, you Engwish?”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #548dd4;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">“Huh, oh yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">“I go cockafosta, this?”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #548dd4;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">“Yes, this goes to Cockfosters.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">“cockafosta?”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #548dd4;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">“Yes cockafosta.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">“Ok ok.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #548dd4;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #ffd966; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">“This train will not be stopping at Cockfosters, please, mind the gap.”</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">“Oh dis Cockfosta, ok ok bye.”</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #943634;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Bloody Brilliant?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">It's strange that the tube is an example of the best of what Britain does (seriously New York paid for us to teach <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">them</i> how to make their underground <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/oct/23/new-york-london-subway-tube">better</a>). Yet most of it's closed on weekends, and some of the newest lines are the slowest most hypochondriac ever. Price increases are generally accepted, over-charging just a normal hazard combined with that the almost constant threat of strikes by some <a href="http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Guardian/Pix/pictures/2010/12/10/1291999328023/Bob-Crow-general-secretar-007.jpg">Crow</a> and cuts to the staff so that in future you don’t have to tap out just hand everything over to the local <a href="http://www.push-start.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/image-1-for-people-steal-from-an-injured-boy-gallery-530285413.jpg">freelance mugger</a> equates to it basically dildoing itself into a dirty overused hole.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">But it’s just too important to go bust or close. If it went, London would be unable to function. That is unless everyone dropped the oyster for the <a href="http://i.thisislondon.co.uk/i/pix/2009/05/cameron-cycle-415x488.jpg">hi-vis jacket</a> and decided to cycle. As a sometime cyclist I would not want that to happen. There is not a day I would wish I could wake up to a city ringing with bikes merrily going about with flowers in their baskets and clean air in their lungs. The fact that I’m not imagining Londoners on these bikes and that if I did, I would have to include, the site of city slicks on carbon fibre cock tubes cutting up and shouting down everyone while five seater taxi bikes turn into teenage thugs causing scenes akin to duck hunt. Means that gladly it can’t and rightly it will never work, ever, ever. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Bombs!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">Having never witnessed a bomb in any way other than through a TV on a sofa with some guy talking all over what initially seemed like a very promising action movie, sometime in September, the date escapes me. Real life bombs on anything would scare me, bombs underground in a pitch black tunnel on a speeding train would probably make me poo my pantyhose if they weren’t already blown off which depending on where I sat could be academic, having no body in which to hold poo. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">I would hope something like what happened on 7 of the 7 never occurred again, but it blatantly could. The fact that everyone has to get to work fast makes the unfortunate chance of being blown up a necessary risk, which people put to the back of their minds, that are instead predominated with Angry Birds Tits Edition, getting that nice next to the door corner space and overting your eyes from a disturbing welt on that woman’s face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;">Tragedy is both ghastly and also something you’d rather think of in movies than on the next carriage but </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;">500,000 to 1 says it won’t happen so, don’t worry, <a href="http://dailyblogicle.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/queenangry.jpg">be angry.</a><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Zeng, Zeng, ping, pang, bang, boom, tune.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">But it's calm under the concrete mantel, well, other than the screeching metal from the curved tracks, and the EXTEMELY LOUD REPEATING ANNOUNCER, oh, the door beeps, the tinny trance tunes emanating from earplugs, other than that it’s rather peaceful, almost a release from the noise and intensity of walking down a London street. Almost, that's if we weren't pushing and squeezing. Oh there’s a gap, can everyone move down, a giant needs to rest in this thimble of an air pocket that I was previously breathing into. Packed in like cattle, sardines, matches, poking each other’s parts, pointy briefcases in soft thighs, flappy itchy newspapers tickling your neck, sweaty smelly stinks sucked into your nose, while you watch the weary world awake without the company of coffee or compassion just more and more and more workers each trying to forget this memory before it's understood.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: large;">I don't want to be looked at and I don't want to look but that is the unavoidable realism. There are no blackout curtains for them or I. Headphones merely blow sound into the drum that would rather hear the ruffle of a slightly over starched duvet as its gathered into a cloud to dream on. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: large;">Nuzzling noses deep into newspaper spines and magazines top 5s, playing kids games on phones that need their own insurance policies. Balancing facts against figures of meetings past for meetings to be, is the commute of commuter, the shared isolation. If you join us, if not already, you will assimilate, there is no way out, honestly, I've tried. Close your eyes on a tube and unless you’re sleepy drunk it makes everything worse. You can hear more intrusively than ever, the man scratching his crotch, that girl slurp. It’s magnified and terrifying. Some noises you hear you now need to look to tell if they're human, mineral or <a href="http://www.blogcdn.com/www.engadget.com/media/2007/06/cb2-child-robot.jpg">other.</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Beautifully awful</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;">But it isn't just for the commuters; it's for everyone, who can afford it. The casual daytime flow of the tube gives a person quite a comfort, especially if you get on the one's with the <a href="http://www.ellisatwood.org/china/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/DSC_0200.jpg">bouncy seats. </a>There you can watch the world go by, if your world is blackness punctuated by adverts, which isn’t wholly inaccurate. Witness the sights of <a href="http://mekkys.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/BABY-WEAVE-2.jpg">bad weaves</a> and <a href="http://img7.imageshack.us/img7/9348/crazymel.jpg">dirty drunks</a>, loud mothers with <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--WlbXgzFAeU/Th4TC5OtzuI/AAAAAAAAAis/x7JZjacxEJM/s1600/screaming-kid.jpg">louder kids</a>, poor and relatively rich share stale happy meal air while overweight builders create familiar new fragrances. Get off and view the tiled variants of Bond Street and Holloway. Imagine the previous generations using it, then see the previous generations still using it. Look at the old stations like the <a href="http://www.urban75.org/railway/images/strand-01.jpg">Strand</a> or the <a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/143/385561029_5eb3fdf0ca.jpg">Northern Heights</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"> that were never opened and imagine the fear of your train wrong turning into there. Think about if you got the last train, the tube closed then the last train stopped and you'd have to get out and walk maybe miles to the exit, with mice and rats and ghosts in your path. That horror film about a serial killer stalking the stations, in the shadows, lurking just past the tunnel rim ready for ignorance to turn your flesh grim.</span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Tunnel it</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: large;">No you tube for you tubers, sharing loneliness millimetres from contact, inches separate injury. The circulating heat and hot arid commuters, perverse and sneer, gawp while averting as much of their body they can. He smells, she's fat, they look like twats. Workers despise tourists, tourists don't get workers. Everyone's in the way of everyone else to <a href="http://www.sfu.ca/cmns/courses/2011/325/Lecture%20Notes/Data%20Mapping/London%20Tube%20Map/WORLD-METRO-MAP-2005.gif">everywhere</a> and that's just that.</span></div>
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JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-53935821166921429732011-07-28T16:16:00.000-07:002015-07-27T06:02:56.539-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> H</span></b></span></span><b><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">OW DO YOU DO . . . </span></span></span></b><br />
<b><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span></span></b><b><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">A</span></span></span></b><b><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">dobo Photoshap</span></span></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I mean it, stop touching me up, leave my tits alone shit-head. Get the hell out, out of my pants, you dirty cunt. And get back on your laptop and remove my stretch marked warts. Tidy up my flaps, lift my knees and give me cheeks, plump those pink lips and make me fifty-foot fucking eyes. Don't you touch me, no god damn it, I need to be Photoshapped!</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Yellow pixel, yellow pixel, yellow pixel, wee dribble.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">When I was 8 I read thirteen pages of instructions, typed in fifty lines of code and waited two and a half minutes to see a cuboid rainbow appear, this was the 1980s and this was </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://s.uvlist.net/l/y2008/04/49084.jpg">computer-programmed art.</a></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">At 11, I sat down and was told, "This class, is a revolution in mark making, you’re going to love this, this is, Microsoft paint. Yes, you can make a box and draw and even print it out in fifteen colours on our black and white printer, amazing ain't</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> <a href="http://www.confusereviews.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/lightbulbs1.jpg">it?" </a></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">When I was 14 after exhausting the Encarta Encyclopedia with sheer frustration that it contains about an eighth of a page of a real Encyclopedia. I inserted another encased CD disk, moved my mouse a bit and realised this was Adobo Photoshap </span><a href="http://www.intimateriver.com/Adobe_Web/images/screen.gif"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">one.</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> It said it in big letters in the middle of the screen and on the CD and also when my teacher said, “Would you like to use, Adobo Photoshap” I replied, “Yes I would like, Adobo Photoshap,” that's how I knew.</span></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">How much?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The beautiful thing about Adobo Photoshap is no-one in the creative industry can afford it, its the most ridiculously overpriced product in the world. For the two millionaires who can, the million or so other copy it, pirate it, or steal it from College or Uni. I have never met someone who has bought an original Photoshap. If I did I'd call them a fool when I could have given it to them for free. I'm not recommending theft, no I can't do that. I'm telling them they are fools that don't </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://thepiratebay.org/tag/cs5">steal.</a> </span></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Look into my thighs</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I know you might think this is bullshit but virtually everything you see that uses photographs anywhere has been through Photoshap. Every image in every magazine since the 90’s have had some under paid mac-monkey <a href="http://robertrosenthal.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/2008/03/14/photo_retouching_by_amy_dresser.jpg">“touch it up a bit.”</a> You probably think it’s the media that make these unrealistic images of purely unbelievable, super-people and it’s true, you’re right, they do but you the public buy the magazines and in that purchase, confirm, reinforce and legitimise the imagery you pour scorn over in their falsehood to real life. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sure, we the design industry laid the egg but you fuckers been eating omelette ever since. And you like omelette, even though you celebrate the real women with all her curves and flaws. If all of a sudden every image you saw was untouched reality, the vitriol would quell around page 4, indifference by page 7, and by about page 12, when they've featured mature stars of stage and screen, you’ll find utter, whole hearted, remorse.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I bet you’d think after time you become immune to the horrors that illuminate my screen daily? No, you do not, every time is abuse of my ability to see and having to stare at it and clean it away reminds me of this</span></span><span style="color: #3366ff;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zatBBKbgipc/TJrtzhzLW9I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/dVuxILznfNo/s1600/clockwork_big.jpg">film</a></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> that has nothing to do with photoshap. Imagine a virtual doctor, without the coat or the salary, that’s kinda a bit like me, but mostly not.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">RE: Toucher</span></span></span></b></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My job, my industry, is intrinsically fused to Adobo Photoshap. If tomorrow for whatever reasons, maybe Mr Photo and Mrs Shap decided to photoshap wings onto the jumpers of the twin towers for a tie in for new red bull overboard. Favour is lost and is fire turned to them and Adobo decided to cease making this product, careers, lives, even language would be irrevocably changed. </span></span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Photoshap is a rare completely universally accepted and embraced program that shapes the way we use images. That's really rather monumental. I am literally shaped by every release, it is the monolith of the design industry. So c'mon apes, lets gawp like we're learning stuff.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Violent computer games are really rather fucked up, slashing thousands of throats, causing untold synthetic pain for points, abusing, destroying, garroting over and over till it ends then you buy it’s expansion pack.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Yet twisting some friends face off, scraping out the fungus from a toe with a pen while mutilating their skull, breaking theoretical bone joints to liquify and recast them while wiping away the spots and dry skin and cloning patches of their own skin implies I'm possibly ok at photo manipulation but a bloody odd torturer. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I'm sure some nine year, no, seven year old living in a neon cupboard in Japan is way better than me on Photoshap, she probably learnt it when she was five but thought it sounded so unbelievable she'd better finish her doctorate, wait a few years and then parade around the world like some bloody Asian Mozart. They’re maybe growing, that’s right growing computers that can just make a picture perfect instantly, or if they aren't there will be in ten years which to the day coincides with my career as a breathable facet in a museum timeline of the recent history of image correction. </span></span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Until then I’ll be like the check out staff that stare sinisterly at the automated stands slowly increasing while their tills are sidelined and full of chattier and chattier magazines until it’s a leaflet counter. The robots are taking over and they give the right change, sure they don't know what a croissant is but they always say thank you. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Pass me the ink well</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In Photoshap the tools on offer seem to be half inched from a seventies studio, airbrush, quill pen, ruler, pencils, bucket of paint, colour charts, eye dropper, stamps and a big white drawing board. You can smudge, cut and burn stuff like you've been left alone at remedial school.There’s are many other parts that are more important and interesting but less entertaining so I've not mentioned any of them.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Oh and if you think this is turning into some step by step guide sunny jim think again. Why the hell would I want to tell anyone what I spent years learning, if I did you could be as good as me in 12 minutes. Better than me in 13 as soon as you’ve learnt that what I do can be done much simpler. In a quarter of an hour I might as well have resigned and forwarded your CV to by boss with my recommendation in that I've taught you everything I know.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">It’s all wrong</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And yeah, some people, some, people, call it A-do-by Pho-to-shot. But hey, I don't care, I don't even care that they mock me when I mention the new plug hinges for Photoshap. Or when I made a brush that wherever I click I leave <a href="http://artbox7.com/img/p/407-930-thickbox.jpg">tiny baby Jesus’.</a> Or that I went on a for rum and asked if they knew how to paste my <a href="http://toveve.files.wordpress.com/2008/03/pictures-024.jpg">dog to my lap</a> and they mocked me in text and put rude pictures of what I would look like if I was a <a href="http://images.quickblogcast.com/39531-36457/tranny_hot_mess_project_runway.jpg">dirty old lady.</a> I don't care cos I bought my Adobo Photoshap and all theirs are badly photocopied without the box or the hologram on. And I'm gonna know everything and be the best, people will come to me and I will say "is your Adobo Photoshap the real Adobo Photoshap, the one with the hologram” if they say yes then I will tell them some secrets, if they say no I’ll virus them like they virused me on the for rum and turn my computer off for ever and ever and only use my drawing tablet instead, don’t even need a mouse, comes with a pen, ha harrr, ha. Ha ha <a href="http://us.123rf.com/400wm/400/400/stylephotographs/stylephotographs0907/stylephotographs090700131/5265565-businessman-laughing-and-gesticulating-while-holding-a-speech.jpg">HARRR.</a></span></div>
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JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-24975749867902564662011-06-22T14:31:00.000-07:002015-07-27T05:56:27.628-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 22pt;">HOW DO YOU DO . . . stagnation</span></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Isn’t it like an old pond or soming? Well it is, but it isn’t <i>just</i> that, or maybe it is. Maybe I could skew some big metaphor out of the tired reeds listlessly aching into terminal decay... No, I’m not, if you want to, do it, go gonzo. Saves me an opener.</span></span></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>U</b></span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">No one can describe it yet some people get you; they know your funny little brain twitches. They spend more and more time storing all your idiosyncrasies, pre-whimming your whims, and you with them too, both dressing evermore alike, conversation syntaxes start to resemble identical twins talking. </span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Years pass, your mixture rises, sets, hardens, then you turn one day and look at that person you’re moulded to, and have eighteen bored kids with. A person so hateful of their encyclopedic knowledge of you; desperate for a mystery, an enigma,</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px;"> a secret that dosen’t involve infidelity or crabs. Yet you preferably ignore the dirty great bleeding dagger eyes, because you or I and countless billions, have followed the slew of compliant behavior, endorsing, recommend and promoted life that can’t help but to, one day, stagnate. I’m not recommending freelove or dating donkeys, <a href="http://latexpix.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/11/latexandsex2t.jpg">latex lubed polygamy</a> though?</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Tuesday?</b></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Not everyone makes a contribution to the lives of others; some people don’t even contribute to themselves. Two weeks last Tuesday, try and remember it in any residual defining detail, unless you did something out of the ordinarily, you can’t, its gone like all the other Tuesdays, like all the days. Our brains only remember worthwhile information that’s why only 0.2% of the population need to recall the advice section on Snog Marry Avoid, for the rest of us our brains are mid-week coasting. </span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">There are a small percentage that do recall Tuesdays and even Thursdays in greater clarity than “the day The Apprentice is not on,” these are the people we, should, kill. Or just de-friend as they’re filling up all that middle bit with all the exciting things they’re doing and all the friends they’re making who all take photos of each other, smiling with interesting people that aren’t in the telly but off the telly. What selfish soon to be murdered, bastards.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Sod this</b></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">We all feel shitty and worthless every now and again. If we don’t then we’re wrong, psychopathic or Robin Williams in Bicentennial Man before he had to watch the WHOLE film</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px;">.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">If we dug into this Pandora’s suitcase we may find your childhood anxieties, parental disappointments, neurological abnormalities and under all that, under the abuse, the dismorphia, the bullies, under the weird shaped vagina and the lop-sided testes is this. Life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">As life continuingly replaces life with more life you are expected to shuffle on, fight to get that promotion and feel that momentary sense of comfort until they tax more of it and you spend more of it and you realise instead of being in some comfortability haven you’re in purgatory going for holidays in Haven. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The age is upon us, hurry the fuck up</b></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">The past 60 years has given us revolutions, definable conscious changes, this last decade has given us, what, an electric car that seats two people, looks radically unattractive and needs a recharge every 60 miles. Phones that cost the same as computers that do less than computers and break on contact with the outside world. An uptake in The Financial Times readership because we all wanted to find out where all the money has gone to, turns out it was going to the fellow readers of The Financial Times. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">All around you is supposed to be evolving yet the news is still largely about violence and its consequences, man’s stupidity and the resulting planetary wound, or political change that changes nothing. So you turn over to watch a repeat of a reality show that’s scripted because real reality is so last decade.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Back in time</b></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">As a pervasive sense of collective resignation fills the air, stirs the souls and let’s the soul sit and stagnate, like that pond. We may recall they’re people the world right now working in <a href="http://www.childlabourindia.com/images/ChildImages/Child10.jpg">Victorian workhouse conditions</a>, there are still <a href="http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Society/Pix/pictures/2009/8/28/1251453567599/Domestic-abuse-001.jpg">slaves</a>, there are <a href="http://www.boingboing.net/images/pirates.jpg">pirates</a>, there are <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8chVFJYyuCc/TV6U6iFZpCI/AAAAAAAAAM8/9l30E6YVf7U/s1600/JapanWhaling.jpg">whalers</a>, <a href="http://www.viceland.com/blogs/en/files/2010/12/prostitute.jpg">prostitutes</a>, there are people dying of; <a href="http://www.greatdreams.com/food/starvation_hunger.jpg">hunger</a>, being <a href="http://images.huffingtonpost.com/2010-11-22-iran_gayexecution.jpeg">gay</a>, being a <a href="http://images.mirror.co.uk/upl/people3/jul2010/2/3/stephen-lawrence-article-651833319.jpg">different colour</a>, being born <a href="http://www.ekhbaryat.net/Uploads/Image/cat27942004302624.jpg">female</a>, or in the <a href="http://onlinehaber24.com/buyukresim/yemen-police-kill-protester-storm-opposition-camp_2011_650425-1.jpg">wrong country</a>. Mass graves are filling up <a href="http://www.sofiaecho.com/shimg/zx500y290_898309.jpg">now</a>, <a href="http://www.italymag.co.uk/sites/mainfiles/BERLUSCONI.jpg">Mafioso run governments</a>, <a href="http://techyum.com/blog%20art/corrupt_20.jpg">systematic world corruption</a> and a bit of <a href="http://erwannmichelkerjan.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/terrorism-2.jpg">neo terrorism</a> for kicks.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">If anything in a moral and social sense, we're devolving. As the necessary monotonies or work and transit continue to keep this business of business valid and integral, we the masses vie for greater shares of the money tree knowing that with our fantasy fortunes there will come real miss fortune for more.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">But the ethics of anything nowadays is important if we can do it and make money, if we can’t then we can just commit to it and default when no ones looking. Everyone does it, government overseas aid, health care promises, party promises, doorstep promises that get cancelled the moment they leave. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">“I mean why do I need to care for warthogs in Rhodesia when I’ve got a wasps nest in upstairs bedroom, I mean, really.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> “I recycle paper but all that other stuff, well; it’s rubbish isn’t it." </span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">"I only shop at Primark, it's that cheap, they must be paying someone pittance, but £4 you can’t go wrong.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">“Get the cheap eggs, you get more they were fine to eat before all that organic shite came along.”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Tweetie pie</b></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">What about that twitter, what about twitter. So there’s a new platform to share our thoughts, communicate our cynicisms, chat our fingers off. It’s like text messaging but your inbox is filled with strangers and Stephen Fry, I suspect the reason why they all became his friend was to see how’s he’d write anything in under 140 characters. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">There will always be facilities to communicate our thoughts on or through but if we’re all discussing Justin Beiber’s new chest hair, what’s the point.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">These technologies are our media’s bench marks of human achievement, that and the latest ithing or our realisation we shouldn’t kill all the fish, just kill almost all of them then go to another fish and almost kill them into extinction too.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Who said we are constantly evolving may not be aware of our innate sense to flounder, to shun destiny finding sustenance in the now. If our next development age is a big step, the human race is more likely to sit on said step having a fag waiting for the stanna stair lift to come.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Staggernation</span></b></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">There are alternatives but isn’t it just comfortable this way? Is it so bad, I mean treading waters pretty neat, right? Wallowing in your own filth is funky and funky can be used by some morons as a positive, can’t it? Killing time is amazing though, no? Not even if you’re brutally smashing up clocks, ok that’s fun. I was wrong.</span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Looking forward into the distant present <a href="http://www.treadwaygallery.com/ONLINECATALOGS/January2006/SaturdayWebimages/2060.jpg">2060</a>, the years of lacklustre have idly leaked into an ocean of how, when, where and w-w-w why? The floating slums towns, under sunken cities reflect the polarised peoples without polar caps or their bears. Some try in hopeless protectionism to cling to lifestyles improbable then, impossible now. Without fossil fuels, the earth is less a commodity more a primitive baron land mass, striped of its worth, farmed into wasteland. </span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">The stagnation has set in, look around you, faces foul scowled and resolute to the dead end of a path their fore fathers followed blinkered yet not blind to the conclusion of reaping only low hanging fruit. Now without fruit trees or even absurd fundamentalist saviors, they grow weary, pathetically collapse where they will hopefully die. Their minds call out for more but their bodies are retched mute symbols of ubiquitous failure. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">"Mar mahh mab mehhhh.” </span><b>Are they gone yet?</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">"Mirrr Mi Muarghh.” </span><b>I think they’re all extinct.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">“Magaaahhh! Mar mrarrrh maauooo ma moror mrahhh.” </span><b>Wooow! Didn’t I tell you it was a good idea to hide in these Bora Bora caves.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">“Mrah.” </span><b>Friends the whole world is ours, we have no predators, we can be whatever we were never allowed to be before.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">“Mah mah muripo.”</span> <b>I want to be a cat.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">“Mr mah mru mru.”</span> <b>Me too.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">“Mrahmrahmip muripo.”</span> <b>I want to be two cats.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">“Mah ma ah.”</span> <b>I do, I do.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">“Mrrar mra mirarr mahh mrghh oh.”</span> <b>Behold, the next great </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px;"><b>Age, of the </b><a href="http://molvray.com/images/dodos_parker_02.jpg"><b>Dodo</b></a>.</span></div>
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JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-75400558056236028802011-05-30T14:16:00.000-07:002011-05-31T14:31:42.754-07:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YqNzjHqDDo4/TeU_Nx5gLBI/AAAAAAAABDo/VORuTJv4zRE/s1600/HOW%2BDO%2BYOU%2BDO...%2Bspecs%2Bcopy%2Bcopy.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 349px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YqNzjHqDDo4/TeU_Nx5gLBI/AAAAAAAABDo/VORuTJv4zRE/s400/HOW%2BDO%2BYOU%2BDO...%2Bspecs%2Bcopy%2Bcopy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612962016552561682" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i1ABnsEy0N0/TeQKtvOQiHI/AAAAAAAABDg/b9WUTrRDKJk/s1600/HOW%2BDO%2BYOU%2BDO...%2Bspecs%2Bcopy.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />How do you do… specs</span></span></span> </div><span style="font-size:150%;"> <span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Help him! The Bionic Man needs his micro fibre lens cloth or he will almost certainly not see the impending incoming Global Holocaust! What? It was just a fat fly and a bit of gravy. Well good job you incinerated it and saved us from that erm fly, cheers, in future Bionic Man can we just call you man.</span></span> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">These glass magnifying spheres screwed onto strut shields in-front of eyes should have been resigned to museums in favour of modern masterful laser surgery and flexible contact lenses. But for some reason, maybe the same logic people get those apps on phones that make their photos look like chatty 80's cameras. For some, (that reason and a few more) glasses have continued where white women wearing bindi's failed.</span></span><br /><br /></div><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />I think you need glasses<br /></span></span></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Like some and unlike most, my first experience of glasses wasn’t pleasant. I was 9, and had been straining to see the board for a good few years now. It had developed from just opening my eyes really-really wide, quite swiftly into a straight hard poker stare. This evolved into a strained squint with a lean that eventually, in utter desperation I attempted to force my eyeballs outside their sockets like <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YHVJsSsn58Q/S51ahxFxiDI/AAAAAAAACYM/Y_bgtdtfNq4/s400/eyes-out.jpg">this man</a>. The amount of effort was clearly not equal to the subject matter ‘flowers in winter,’ so instead I took to copying any work from Staz Seniv the Russian boy, the only Russian I had ever known and the worst copier in the world yet the only one in my limited field of vision. </span> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">My teacher finally found out my ruse when she noticed my writing suddenly went from semi-structured sentence to barely legible letters in the brief time we changed from own work to board. She noticed and like all good teachers marked it down and waited four months till the end of term to tell my parents.</span> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">This gave me a slight vindication to the criticism, “You don’t need to sit that close to the TV.” Yet sadly also give credence to the comment, “If you sit too close to the TV it’ll ruin your eyes”</span></span><br /><br /></div><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;"><br />This one, or this one, is it the green or red?</span></span><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Opticians were/are strange places; yet eye-tests are fun, like playing guessing games with unaware implications. I, like every kid wanted to keep the testing glasses but it was the mid 80’s so big and jazzy were my choice. </span> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">The children’s section consisted of a range of glasses dipped in bright with stickers of cartoon characters on the side. Because my head back then was unusually large (yes, ha ha) I was able to choose older, teenage frames. The only ones that stood out were pillar box red, and although my parents offered me many other types, I wanted red. I see now why my parents were suggesting subtler tones, because the red ones looked unsurprisingly fucking ridiculous.</span> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">So now I had my positively comical red glasses to wear for when I couldn’t see words on the board, not for playtime, playtime I was cool again, that was until I got my leg braces and shoes drilled but that is <a href="http://www.futuregamez.net/movies/forrestgump/forrestgump2.jpg">another story.</a></span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />You should have gone to</span></span><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Throughout most teenagers experiences, when the only choice of face furniture was designed by a machine and chosen by a discount spectacle shop, you got the impression you weren’t getting the perfect match, or even a vaguely inaccurate one. </span> <span style="font-family:arial;">That all changed with university where finally I was able to wear whatever my student loan could afford to buy and re-buy when alcohol or clumsiness killed them.</span> </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;">The type</span></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">There are two types of people who wear glasses, those who try and hide them with innocuous invisibility, designed, balanced and blended into nothingness. You normally see them in Yo Sushi nibbling a roll that needs to be bitten. And the others who like their four eyes to be brazen and bold, they saunter around surrealist exhibitions trying to master an expression of astuteness and desperately available. </span> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Then there are the others that “don’t wear glasses” because, “they don’t suit them,” “don’t like wearing them” or “my eyes are not bad,” yes, the deniers. These bunch don’t even tell you they wear contact lens, the only way you find out is one day at work a bit of their eye falls into your soup and you scream. They confess like telling someone some sordid salacious secret. They show you their emergency pair for when their eyes crust up. They are awful; they are like braces for eyes. They don’t even fit, hanging off wonky and undernourished. Oh the shame.</span> </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Your not still…</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">You, you skin flint, need new specs cos when you try 'n see you have to look around the scratches.<br /><br />When you have to bend them onto your face and they’re still wonky.<br /><br />When they smell of concentrated sweat.<br /><br />When your jet black glasses look now more a greyey brown flaky dried up pasty.<br /><br />When people say, “How old are they?” And when you reply, they sigh.</span> </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">You don’t need them?</span></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I almost forgot they’re a growing alumni of cuntbags who wear glasses without lenses in, just cos, at the moment, they’re a bit hip. These twats, these dicks of the uberworld seem to be quite oblivious to how ridiculous they look, how foolish they seem when questioned and how angry they make me when they or one of their friends ask me if my glasses are real. By your question you have instantly put me on a level with utter fucks who put things on their face cos it’s cool. I actually need them, Aidsface.</span> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">How far do you cockgob’s go in taking someone’s disability and turning it into an accessory, d’you ride around in wheelchairs or prefer Zimmer frames? You go in for the colostomy bag or are you piss sacking it this season?</span> <span style="font-family:arial;">And relax.</span> </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;">Shit, I can’t see.</span></span> </span><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Great, it’s raining and you’re cycling, Rainscape! look a smudge bus, a blur car and a blob bike, yippie I haven’t died yet. </span> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Out from the cold, into the steamy room, you wipe, it re-steams, you try and say hello but you can’t find them, that’s ok in a few minutes it’ll look like your eyes are hiding behind a couple of Christmas windows. </span> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Swimming in blur, where are they, hey, oops sorry I thought you were, no sorry, I’m genuinely sorry, honest I thought they were floats.</span> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Yeah, dancing, woo, getting moshy, yeah, what’s that crowd surfer, arghhh! My glasses, on the floor, oh no, don’t stomp, no, not faster, don’t whatever you do, stamp on my glasses!</span> </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">And the winner is?</span></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">You know, I know, we know, the one thing we’ve been tirelessly campaigning for over these years is recognition in the form of an award for people who wear glasses. Obviously not for Katy Commoner or Eric Everyman, no no, celebrities, facile, barely recognisable celebrities that are never seen near an opticians are all of a sudden prancing down a red rug with the sole proviso of promoting spectacle wearing, sorry scraping what little fame from a sub standard excuse for an awards by claiming they want to be “ambassadors”. That’s like Michael Barrymore retraining as a sexuality counsellor cum part-time lifeguard with a Saturday job as a careers advisor. Plus all of them look as though they’re not wearing glasses at all but awkwardly peering through some sort of stick insect climbing frame designed by Helmut Cock.</span> </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Huh?</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;">Why don’t you wear contact lens ay? </span> <span style="font-family:arial;">I get this question every so often, like I haven’t thought of it, I tried it and then decided I look better with more of my face covered than exposed. </span> <span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Why don’t you try laser eye surgery then? </span> They usually follow that up with it’s 99% safe. Yeah well I met the 1%, this plumber guy decided to get it done so he could work better; they burnt the wrong bit, now he can’t work and is quickly going blind. He’s a Christian, a real funda-mentalist Christian, I did want to ask him why he wanted to change God’s image and if he thought that was God’s plan or God’s revenge? Instead I just sat while he banged on about throwing broken clocks in the air and them reassembling themselves. </span> </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Look at you, you…</span></span></span> </span><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Speccy, goggle eyes, four eyes, Superman, Buddy Holly, Austin Powers, Where’s Wally, Alan Carr, jam jar! A general theme is if someone with glasses is on TV or in movies then you will be called it, regardless of accuracy or appropriateness. I don’t really understand these people; they must walk around pointing and shouting: Red Car! Chips! Shoes! Su-per-mar-ket! Like their brain-damaged parents. I pity those morons for all that they aren’t and all that they’ll never be.</span> </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">A picture in frames</span></span></span> </span><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Glasses are old hat. The facts are they’re cheap, they’re available, when you’re young they are the best thing to have to see and when you get older like pubes you just get used to them, probably grow some varying styles and remove them once in a while.</span> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">People with glasses generally take them into their person as a part of who they are and a comforting if at times frustrating quirk. A social and physical defence, wall, screen, gap, mysterious enigma, is recompence for acquiring this deficiency. An inability of clarity yet the ability to escape into blurry world is a beautiful thing indeed. The well worn in frames, greasily smooth, bruised, bent even scratched to the sky, but perfect.</span> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:150%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I have a friend who doesn’t need glasses, though he does have a large collection of paperclips he hangs from his person and a jealous stare, I lie, his stare is more hardline, I lie he doesn’t stare at all, he just cries, for me. Because I am Argentina and he is a ladyboy called <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IiWf8u5z6NI/SKzWlRPYUjI/AAAAAAAABSE/IkooxF2CMts/s400/helen+thomas.jpg">Eva Hardon.</a></span></span></div>JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-86356159841201454142011-04-15T05:59:00.000-07:002011-04-15T06:25:09.968-07:00<div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hOubfckzNRE/TahBe6SC4II/AAAAAAAABDY/kF1rwPsn3IU/s1600/HOW%2BDO%2BYOU%2BDO..%2Bunemploymentbrown.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hOubfckzNRE/TahBe6SC4II/AAAAAAAABDY/kF1rwPsn3IU/s400/HOW%2BDO%2BYOU%2BDO..%2Bunemploymentbrown.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595794536304664706" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />How do you do… Unemployment</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /><br />Sacked, redundant, fired, dismissed. Whatever the reasons, there is now quite a gap in your schedule between nine and half five for five days every week from now till fuck knows when. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />I got sacked </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">So they found that mass of greasy granny porn you’ve been subtly downloading from the high-speed broadband connection at work. Oh geez, they’ve noticed you took two hour lunches on Thursdays, Fridays, Tuesdays, Mondays and Wednesdays, where you’d get high with the pizza guy n sit around for the rest of the afternoon watching babies burp on YouTube. Uh oh, you’ve been steeling furniture from work and selling it on Gumtree. Whoops, you’ve been secretly eating other people’s food from the fridge, one of the victims found you had ham, hummus, and egg on your face. Holey moley, that expose’ blog you’ve been writing about a shitty company in roughly the same geographical area, in the same industry, with the same hierarchy, with an almost carbon copy of colleagues minus you, has been pinpointed as yours by a open link to your Facebook page saying, “Read this blog wink wink (it’s not me) IT IS, IT IS!” </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Ok, ok, you’re just exceptionally bad at your job, you make every mistake that can ever be made, you never learn and seem to know less now than when you started, you don’t listen, you lie, you’re tardy, scruffily dressed, most of the time you’re not working and the rest of the time you’re doing it wrong. Basically you’re the chaff that every so often needs separating from the wheat, disposing of and never allowed back onto the wheat’s premises. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" ><br />Burning the books</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Or maybe your company is just the worst financially managed in the world and instead of investing in more stock control it bought shares in MySpace. When everyone was cutting back it did an America and spent big on a viral video that didn’t go viral, didn’t even go septic. Even when the cleaners were saying. “Oi dickhead, aren’t you overdoing it a bit,” they plowed on buying that plow to turn the Gobi dessert into rainforest so they can grow monkeys to harvest them as menial workers.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />When the monkeys rebelled at being fed peanuts and demanded bananas, the money dried up along with the tea and coffee so you drank hot sugary milk water, then hot sugary water, then hot water, then cold water, then toilet water. They sold the computers; consequently all the designs and reports had to be done with a Spirograph and a setsquare. Prior to the heave ho, you worked in candlelight on cardboard with chalkstones you found at the side of roads. After the final indignity of being paid in monopoly money, you resigned. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />W-w-w-w-why?</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">As you sit in the pub shocked and sorrowful drinking into the hurting remembrance of the work you just left. All around your colleagues say, “It’ll be alright,” “Keep strong,” “You can find something better.” You recall next month <span style="font-style: italic;">they’ll</span> still be getting paid, <span style="font-style: italic;">they </span>still have a job. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />They still can relate (except for the smarmy rich twat who’s auntie got him in.) You look around at those people, day-to-day trials of life shared with this post-post modern disjointed family of twenty to thirty something’s with some sort of Polish heritage branch grafted on. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />And as you lay in bed unable to sleep but too drunk to do anything productive, that afterglow of work-time washes through, you realise you are now a free person, you answer to no-one, no more early mornings regretful of the extra hour you spent awake watching a mediocre biography of some guy you haven’t even heard of, no stress of transit with a few million other aggrieved so-and-so’s, no targets, no working late, no office politics, no meetings that have nothing to do with you, no smart casual, no initiatives, no money, no money with a tsunami of debts in the middle distance. Arghh!</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">Cam on!</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Not that you could blame the Tory government for any of this but you can, almost all, almost everything you pay more for, get less with and generally feel over taxed and under funded by you could blame on a Tory government delighting in continuing the policies of their dear overlord Margaret (I’m having a party when she dies) Thatcher. So, when everything is going up in price and your wage is bankrupt. You now need Mr Money… </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;">The dole</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The government rebranded it to jobseekers allowance but it’s the dole. The refit makes these centres of hopelessness brighter but no less crest fallen. While names are miss shouted and sauntering tracksuits swish swoosh Nike and Adidas, Lacoste and Le Coq logos mingle and catch up like an adults playgroup. We, the others, observe, and experience mild interrogation, jumping through the hoops for the less scrupulous, receiving our stamps, turning up to our times, proving our proof and signing on.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" ><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">So, you’re currently unemployed?</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:arial;" >Yes</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:arial;" >And you’re not working?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:arial;" >No</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:arial;" >Not getting any money from anywhere?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:arial;" >No</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:arial;" >Are you actively seeking work?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:arial;" >Yes</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:arial;" >And you have no savings?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:arial;" >No </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:arial;" >Non at all?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:arial;" >No </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:arial;" >Waiting on any money coming to you from your previous employer?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:arial;" >No</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:arial;" >And you want to claim jobseekers allowance?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:arial;" >Yes</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:arial;" >It is a criminal offense to claim when you’re working, so are you definitely not working?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:arial;" >No </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:arial;" >You are working?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:arial;" >No, I mean no, I’m not, I’m not working o.k.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:arial;" >You know we have a zero tolerance policy on aggressive behavior here.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:arial;" >I said o.k. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Well, fill out this booklet and this form because you lived abroad once and if you’re claiming housing benefit, complete this book. In two weeks sign on and a week later you get your £64.70 a week, subject to you appearing like you’re looking for work, that could just mean printing out a few jobs from that machine and showing me, basically speaking, the better liar you are the more benefits you’ll receive. Oh and if you do any work you have to disclose it and we’ll deduct that from your already paltry sum just to give you less incentive to work o.k?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Next!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />As you click through the modern interactive job board, realise that instead of animation and illustration the cleaning and slaughter industry would have been a more fruitful and altogether a less fraught career path. Could you disembowel 400 hundred chickens a day? I mean, you probably get into the flow, then the whole repeatedly slaughtering animals motif might be not as hideous a thought as is it now.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Print.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" ><br />Day to day admin</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">This voluntary admin job of the personal employment arm of you is now your life, your success depends on it. You wake up late to a series of jobs needing your automated and slightly adjusted cover letter and C.V. Checking your inbox wading through Viagra adverts and Tesco’s promotions to find the few, “we regret to inform you” responses you inwardly sigh yet outwardly continue with slightly less gusto. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />The jobs blur into each other, you can’t keep a track, the roles are so interwoven so completely banal and inconsequential considering the vast majority will be ignored, unanswered or auto replied.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />12 o’clock, lunch, daytime TV and leftovers mixed with other leftovers eaten by a leftover. Saying that, you can turn up to your computer and sofa naked and smelly and not feel ashamed. O.K. feel ashamed but continue to do it the next day. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Weekday world</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You walk the day streets, see the people who now share your world, overloaded bike man, drunk bums, mums with many sons, very old men who seem to be asleep yet are actually moving. Truants, tourists, people going to and coming from work, and ourselves, the unemployed, betting, dossing, buying, moping, sitting, spitting, drinking, thinking. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Welcome back daytime, it’s been awhile. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />After a while you drift, days aren’t days anymore, weekends have no meaning, sun rises and sets behind the curtains in your festering, applying cave of despondency. Everything costs lots. You sink lower, stop shaving, stop caring, just applying, just applying. You just keep applying because sometime in some future you’ll get an…</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Interview</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Huh, did you read it wrong, no, it can’t, it can’t be, they want you? An interview, yes, woo, hoo!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />So you, the selected, could work, if only you beat the others, if only you were the best, if only you shaved that beard you’ve been thatching the last five months.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Oh shit it’s now, she’s here, he’s here, and they’ve brought another one. Stay calm, don’t go red, drink some water, smile, appear happy, remember their names, what are they’re names?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Hi John</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:arial;" >Hi</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Come, we have a room here for you.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" >(They could torture me in that room and I’d let them. Well I’d go physical over mental, please physical, physical, physical.)</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">So why do you want to work for us?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-family:arial;" >(Shit, I knew I should’ve prepared that question, look around, nice doors, no, smart, smart. People! Stall for time drink some water. Big big place, and people.)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:arial;" >Big People</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Sorry?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:arial;" >You have a big company that the people can grow, so they can be bigger, in their skill set. I want to be bigger, like that, not size.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">O.K. Shall we see your portfolio.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />After the portfolio, after your phone goes off, after you accidentally imply all retail companies have no morals, after trying to open a glass door the wrong way nearly breaking thousands of pounds of glass room, after “we’ll be in touch” you, can now relax. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Wow, Job.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">She phoned, she and him and the other one thought you were the best; you were the best? Well you couldn’t argue; you can’t they’ve sent you the contract, you start on Monday.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />So you’ve got a job, you can now be disenfranchised on someone else’s time. You’ve got what you’ve been working for though it all seems anticlimactic, you now have to work again. The freedoms you’ve had and squandered on walking round Morrisions trying to construct the cheapest most filling meal for under 99p are gone. Now you’re back to the grinding soulless workhorse of industry.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br />Go you.</span><br /></span></div>JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-84611347001708586602011-04-04T01:45:00.000-07:002011-04-06T04:16:02.856-07:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6X1_EwZb36s/TZxLX0veYfI/AAAAAAAABDQ/I3sPG-3p9aY/s1600/how%2Bdo%2Byou%2Bdo...%2Bstyle.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 398px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6X1_EwZb36s/TZxLX0veYfI/AAAAAAAABDQ/I3sPG-3p9aY/s400/how%2Bdo%2Byou%2Bdo...%2Bstyle.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592427709954154994" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b></b></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">How do you do… style</span></b></span></div><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Walking down any street, style, or lack of it screams out like a pair of purposely savaged, aged, patched, studied, bleached and distressed jeans. It informs us on what you’d presume ones brains may or may not contain. The illustrated echoes of past choices, possible hampered eyesight or cards dreadfully dealt. Under the microscope, you can see everything (including that suspicious white stain you tried to wet off).</span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Stylish</span></b></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Oh geez gods that Alexa Chung, she’s stylish. She fucking shits xx albums she’s so f-in hip, she breathes hydrogen, that bitch is Clilit nuclear Japan Bang! No, NO, she’s really-really-really, really dark matter, but with a cheery smile, always with that cheery smile. That, “Yes everyone thinks I’m so idyllic, such a goddess they’ve almost erased that time I was introducing Hollyoaks as if I liked it, like I, Alexia Chung would watch that. Or that time I interviewed Brian from Green and I was soo sarcastic. I’m like the ultimate human, I’m so beyond this pedestrian crap, I wanna live in deep space with the Arctic fucking Monkeys. I’m beyond verbal, I communicate entirely through dress. I break the rules, then I make new rules, cos I’m half Chinese, and I’m in control. You never suspect the sweet ones, and I’m the sweetest, Vogue said so, I made them.” </span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">These style icons are most of the time gauntishly thin people, unattainably symmetrical, who buy tailored clothes that always flatter. 99% of style icons are very rich. Unless you or I hang around the offices, parties, events of the rich and elite you will not be a style icon. You may be a style icon but you won’t be their style icon. Boo the fuck hoo.</span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b></b></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b>Look</b></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Your style depends massively on how you wear something and who you are as a person. As I have found out, just wearing clothes you like in any combination you fancy independent of other elements (occasion, time of day, weather) means that you may be liable to taunts, looks, nods, sniggers and a general sense of hording buffoonery. </span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Personally I couldn’t tell you what goes with what, I don’t know what to wear a pink shirt with other than some steroids and a Stella. Looking at my own wardrobe I can pick something that may work. More often that not, general apathy means on any given day my girlfriend can walk out with: a clown, a man who’s wearing the clothes of a child, a patterned headache, a Jew, a gay, an old man, a grunge throwback, Rick from The Young Ones, and a stained suspiciously smelling mess. </span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b></b></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b>What’s your style?</b></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Everyone likes something. People who don’t, have body problems or aesthetic appreciation issues. My mum likes flowers, a lot of the time it looks like she’s been assaulted by a meadow but that’s her style, flowers are happy things and she works in a school so she needs happy things.</span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">If you work in say, a formal environment, get into suits, patterns, eras and cuts. If you’re into boom-bang-a-bang Astral Projection go bonkers with surreal characterisations and mad flashy coloured shit. Conversely if you just fuck with people all day and aren’t a customer service advisor, start wearing clothes for the opposite sex or that just don’t fit. Wear clothes for your top on your bottom, fish tie’s can be long socks, and long socks can be bandanas. Wear only one colour then the next day wear every colour in the rainbow, then the next day wear nothing, then the next day wear a prison issue uniform, then next wear a white jacket backwards. </span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Dondebeebes! </span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;color:#cccccc;">“Your full name sir” </span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Beebes Dondebeebes! </span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;color:#cccccc;">“Any room in Electroshock?”</span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b></b></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b>Scales</b></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I think style is a fine balance between effort and effect. Generally speaking it shouldn’t be too taxing. If you’re touring vintage markets every spare second, raping your rent on eBay and eternally saving for those shoes by that Italian. Calm it. Life’s for living, not posing, don’t care how shocking you think you look, while you’re replaying snaps the rest of us are waxing ecstasy cannons. </span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Saying that, if your wardrobe consists of whatever’s hanging out of charity shop bins, complimented by moth bitten clothes you’ve been wearing since puberty. You, my friend, need more friends to borrow clothes off.</span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b></b></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b>Gok Wan</b></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Warning. Gok Wan is a personal shopper for fat people. He’s not some revolutionary of style. He doesn’t change how women dress unless it entails making a hundred pound trousers with the addition of a gold strip look like they cost a tenner from Primark. Beware, be scared. </span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">TV offers you tips on style and fashion advice, yet it knows nobody. If your cat sat down, it would advise her on what style of jeans she should be wearing this season if she wants to attract a new sexy mate. Or on the care home community TV they’ll tell your Granddad with Alzheimer's who thinks the walls are rats, that he should be shifting to more neutral tones as he gets older as it compliments his milky grey eyes and pale translucent skin.</span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I’m surprised they haven’t just fucked off the advice part and just said, “ This winter’s black, everyone wear black, makes you look thinner, you blend in, it’s everywhere, hard to stain, cheap, what more do you bleeding want?”</span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b></b></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b>Make me blind</b></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Jersey Shore. What can I say that you aren’t already thinking about these things. If we lived a few billion years go these muscle-bound over confident super sexed creatures could be useful in aiding our survival. That is until we could civilize ourselves, get jobs, dress well, have relationships, think? </span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Their style is a collectivized fad magnet, varying only in hue or quantity of stud. Inherently interchangeable with each other without an eye batted. Style is used loosely to describe them due to individual characteristics not always being well, there.</span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Wearing fifteen layers of varnish, loin cloths and ripped shirts exposing their bits for the leery eyed female things to hump n’ grind along to tribal house rhythms, is their life’s goal. These banaliacs shouldn’t be on camera they should be in museum cages, with interactive electrodes attached to their genitals for hipsters to delight from triggering lavishly. They survive like sheep by their pack mentality and sheer abundance; will their race be wiped out through natural sterilization forcibly administered? One can only try.</span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b></b></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b>Fads</b></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Coincidentally fads are used as beacons for the creatures to identify each other and as bloody great warnings for everyone else. For fad makers, it’s basically a creative exercise in who can come up with the stupidest most overpriced ugly tat the general public will buy like it’s going out of fashion. </span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Previous winners have been Von Dutch or Nazi hats, Ed Hardy or clothing for lazy tattoo enthusiasts, Ugg boots or Jesus Mary and Joseph they’re ugly boots, and anything blatantly oversized like people with massive flappy holed earlobes cos they wore plugs for a few months in 2009 when pop punk was in. </span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Their lack of practical use combined with most overuse of luminous colours and sheer pointlessness should be taken into consideration. Other commendable mentions include: Crystal encrusted table bag holders, phone charms, see through backpacks, T-shirts with GIANT words in </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">SUPER BOLD</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> shouting absolutely nothing, oh and that Australian diplomatic abomination, Crocs.</span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Rule of Style: If you think its maybe too awful to be worn, it is.</span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b></b></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b>Tate and Lyle</b></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Style is not what stylist magazine tells you is in or hot. It’s not what everyone else is wearing; it’s just what you feel like you like. A famous person once said. “We are all actors playing characters on this stage called life.” I like that, I changed it, and I can do that. It didn’t say characters but some other quote that I can remember less did so I thought, shove’m both together, make a super quote. William Shakespeare, room for improvement. </span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"></span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Nice ruff.</span></span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></div>JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-46343576509793800612011-03-21T08:17:00.000-07:002011-03-22T15:48:05.991-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3BHJ4PZ-vVY/TYdtEj65p6I/AAAAAAAABDA/d3jR8rh0xLQ/s1600/49395983.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3BHJ4PZ-vVY/TYdtEj65p6I/AAAAAAAABDA/d3jR8rh0xLQ/s400/49395983.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586553787905583010" /></a><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 16.0px 'Helvetica Neue'"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></span></b></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 16.0px 'Helvetica Neue'"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">How do you do…drugs</span></span></b></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><i><br /></i></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><i><br /></i></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">This is a work of pure fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s confusion or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely intentionally coincidental</span></i><span style="font: 12.0px 'Helvetica Neue'"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">.</span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">“Just say no,” never really felt right. Even when you didn’t know better and all you saw of drugs was fantastically negative, something didn’t quite fit. Adolescence made you altogether curious for the surreal stuff and bored of the real stuff. In desperate dire need of release from parental, social, geographic and insitutionalised controls that two cans of Skol, didn’t quite cut. </span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">With spots and pubes, masturbation marathons and having a crush on 85% of the opposite sex whilst aspiring to adulthood and still being classed as a child. Frustration and rebellion planted its flag firmly on your crater rich face. </span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">If we’re lucky, we find others who share this similar inclination, this desperation to not to continue the humiliation of our current situations, this firm desire to experience the hidden side of ourselves. </span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Your gang were like dumb revolutionaries that haven’t understood that they’re revolutionaries yet. Instinctively desiring and discussing things they know bugger all about due to the internet being about 6 years off useful and the only book in the library featuring drugs, is that of ‘Mushrooms in our Forests’ which simply shows an outline of a magic mushroom above a red box warning the various sentences you can get for possession of said pencil line. </span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">We attempt to barter, get ripped off, and buy things from shops with whimsical titles like ‘the mystical well’ that claim many things and deliver none. </span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">So a friend who’s not a friend of a friend who’s also not a friend gets us some hash. We roll it, smoke it and say we like it at first when we don’t, it makes us feel ill all over our friends mum’s toilet and down her stairs. It makes things hazy and strange, but there’s a pleasant a collective level we now have at an age where everyone’s up and down all over the shop. Weeks pass, smokes continue, you start to feel like the 60’s were amazing, you get a flowery top, you get some flared trousers, you grow your hair, you offer free love and wait, until through sheer embarrassment you have to except that flirty fat friend. </span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">You want to persist; you desire other things, like some explorer of your unknown, so you find those pencil lines in a cowpat. When the road turns blue and the sky opens up you realise nothing will ever be the same, you’ve found the matrix before the reference was even relevant to Ted Theodore Logan. </span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">The smoke gets ingrained, you want to know more so you watch Bill Hicks repeatedly for an undisclosed number of years gathering evermore minute inflections until you think he’s some sort of messiah everyone </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">needs</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> to watch. You have music that accompanies use, which you now term ‘sessions’ with anything that you have to do within that session a ‘mission.’ You have times, tools, games and people who join you in your hazy stale smoke rooms with cracked red glazes, giggling into the ends of hours while devouring tons of utterly filthy food.</span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">You repeat this process more times than you can remember because your memory’s shot as is your chance of finding a special someone outside the limited smoking groups you blithely wander in and out of unaware of the seemingly growing hopeless undercurrent. </span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Motivation is so lost, lazy people are openly mocking your hygiene. Finally you’re sick of the monotony and about a week later you calm it down, you buy some apples, start drinking more, you go out and ride your bike, smoking cigarettes, and ask your dope guy for those other things he does, yeah, pills.</span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">You don’t know shit, so you start going to places with bad music but good people who tell you about other places with slightly less worse music and you go there too. You meet characters that turn from strangers to friends to soul mates and back to strangers in hours. </span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">You find a few people who want to race further, who really want to fly. So you crazy off, it feels like it’ll never stop and it almost doesn’t. But though you deny it to even yourself the mornings start to hurt, they tear through thought like barbaric shysters, making you a stupid zombie within the encircling cast of Dawn of the Dead. So you drink, you drink because the drink softens it, the drunken cold grey is preferable, as long as the curtains don’t twitch, living in a forced twilight, scared of the outside, dirty sweaty drunk shambles of our former sparks. From bravado and freedom to boxed-in beasts, this is our fun but even we tire at being caged animals. </span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">End of part pill.</span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Into the age of synthetic genetically manipulated highs, manipulated </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">legal </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">highs, sharing time with the traditional and the upstarts. The cocktails change, the feelings vary but the result is usually a shambles but isn’t that now part of it? Numbing one part leaving another amused. Speeding one, speeding all everything doesn’t stop but there isn’t enough time for it all, you can’t say or do everything, there isn’t enough time! </span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">New ones, gritty ones, cutting sharp ones. Powders and pills, white but not pure, anything but, hit and miss, dud or good? The reasons why have become hazy, is it a disassociate, is it a desire to share or alienate, the feeling isn’t exactly spectacular, it’s often a hazard, losing things, making fools out of ourselves, accidents, incidents, fights, this is maybe not good. </span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">But what’s the choice; sobriety while all around is vibrant and dramatic. Booze, boozy booze, woozy booze, lulled, depressed, blurting, loud, stupid drunkard? Crack? Heroin? All choices are just that but society hasn’t publically embraced all lifestyles and persuasions, Absinthe bars? Coffee shops? Ket halls? Legality would help yet considering you can’t legally smoke a hookah inside a hookah bar the very idea of a progressive drugs policy seems ruefully whimsical. So this current mismatching will just be that, painfully current.</span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Through all you are learning and forgetting, heartfelt and heartless wondering and unable to think in ecstasy and in grief all and nothing in those things called drugs in, that thing called life. </span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; min-height: 16px; "><br /></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; min-height: 16px; "><br /></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 14px/normal 'Helvetica Neue'; min-height: 16px; "><br /></p>JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-48874662269003093522011-03-08T06:13:00.000-08:002011-03-14T04:22:03.479-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-unQkYM967PI/TX3yKkBLC_I/AAAAAAAABC4/GPLtXwvXKbM/s1600/taxidermy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-unQkYM967PI/TX3yKkBLC_I/AAAAAAAABC4/GPLtXwvXKbM/s400/taxidermy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583885376290491378" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:x-large;"><b>HOW DO YOU DO... Taxidermy</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Past this ‘ere 21st Century, in the proper future nexus of technology x science + whiz-bleep. When we equal all our realised dreams, that we’re miles off reaching. Technology and humans will be ever-more reliable to each other, like fifty times more than now. Though if even a hint of what environmental scientists predict will happen, happens, the whole of our technological love affair may break up without even a sniff at no-strings sex. With this, industry, education, agriculture, health and entertainment will shatter. Having decided to put everything in the clouds; yet unable to now reach them. And after trying to pour oil on everything because, oil makes everything! We wept like little girls with cut knees. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Reflecting at the absent neglect of our environment in favour of genetic breeding towers housing flocks of fifteen foot chicken nuggets. Glancing around at our weakened, stretched painted and plucked selves unable to understand the “ugly” enlightenment period. We start scrambling dumbfounded at the neglected instruments of yesteryear, the solid physical tools and ornements our ancestors used to use and admire. Our eyes eventually focus and we see the glorious simplistic form of what we had in almost the best form to have it in, yes, a taxidermied animal.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">These objects we held up to what we once had, to the sanctuary of Mother Nature stuffed and as examples of what we need to reclaim. The simple duck with a pipe balanced in his beak and a pulled down wink in his eye made all humans around the world know instantly where they went wrong. And from that day they all went out to shoot a duck so they too could have such an important symbol on their mantelpiece. Even though they didn’t own mantelpieces then because it was the future they still liked the idea so all made them too, hastily.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"><b>Stuffing </b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">What those future fools didn’t realise because all their food came from tablets and teats was that the process of taxidermy isn’t a particularly pleasant one. In fact what they soon learned is that the very act of cutting open an animal is probably the most disgusting and gip inducing spectacle they could ever theorise in undertaking. Yet they soldiered on like a bunch of soldiers who were going to brutally re-murder another thing. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"><b>Something you might need to know, because, you don't know and neither do I</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:large;">It would be preferable to have some sort of reference at hand, an instructional video, manual on taxidermy, maybe an expert to advise you. Please do not follow the author's bright idea and watch a you tube video of some hickory American yokling the process with all the really complicated and important parts super sped up to country and western accompaniment . </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Don't then try and interpret zip zap slop slap incisions like you've acquired the ability to slow down time whilst taking in intricate details and translating them into surgeon-like precision. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">It's the equivalent of a child handed the keys to Cern and telling him to, "Go find Higg's Bottom." Not gonna happen, and will likely end in some sort of agitated reversed molestation charge.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"><b>You gave them the eye, oh my.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:large;">Don't look the animal in the eye, you may cry or get intimidated like when you’re at an open casket viewing, you’re staring deep down into their dead eyes gripped with the lingering fear they might just blink or wink or wake up. Occasionally they expel some air and it sounds like they’re breathing into life when it's not it's just releasing trapped gases. Even though I've never been to a viewing, never stared at a dead fella, I know that, I watched a good chunk of the first series of Six Feet Under and I have the ability to take a fact from Eerie Indiana when Marshall went to a morgue so that this tale limply hangs together even though the guts have been self sacrificed which somehow links into the next bit right below, pfew.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"><b>Stuck in the middles</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Scalpel please! So after skinning most of the animal, removing its mainframe, braking it’s legs, pulling the skin from its muscle, spinal column and ribbed bloody airway. Cutting its eye lids from the skin and de-braining the skull of all elements, it’s getting on a bit. Time for tea! Like any tribesman, Neanderthal, bush tucker or amateur taxidermist knows; always eat your animal regardless of what brutal unimaginable thing you’ve just done to it. So time to disembowel. Make sure you cut kidneys, heart, lungs, intestines and all the rest of that jelly slop, veined stuff, replace that with garlic, leave in the oven for an hour, bingo 22 quack quack lunch. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"><b>Catharsis</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">After lunch while you are sipping your warm glowing multi caffeinated cocoa shake, take a few moments to consider the life you have butchered for your aesthetic appreciation that you can’t appreciate in the wild cos you’re too lazy and you’ve already murdered it. Think about its creation, those first tentative steps, that proud encouragement from its mother, toying around with other chicks, having fun, its attraction to another birds, petting and grooming each other, going to search for food for its family then bam! Shot. Consider the many other animals that are hanging in houses that may, may have preferred to hang out on the reserve or swooping over the heads of poachers, free and flowing then shot, dead, in a dog’s mouth. You thank yourself in being a below than average fantasist and deciding not to get David Attenborough’s Life boxset that time when it was on offer. You smile over a hollow skin sack of feathers and wonder whether one day you may be a bag of skin under the gaze of a vengeful ducks bloodied beak. Probably not.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"><b>This goes where?</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">The incidental consequence of all this is you kinda understand an animal’s insides. You feel almost medieval, though the same statement in front of butchers would make, <i>you</i> a jovial jester to <i>their</i> grim heartless reaper; probably ending in them saying stuff about your guts and your garters in some light hearted colloquial saying that they literally mean.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Sniff sniff, poo wee</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">If a close person, partner, or neighbourhood Border Collie indicates that there's an unusual and rather potent odour exhuming from your animal statue / bird sculpture, do investigate. There may be an oversight that's slowly decomposing and may definitely need some super doopa surgery that doesn’t involve hanging more and more glades from it’s neck until it feels more at home with Flava Flav, if Flava Flav lived in a Brooklyn sewer. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">Warning, wear gloves and a nose plug because once you find it, it'll let you know it’s found. A good test is if it’s: </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:large;">Red, dead still fleshy, sup more tea. </span></li></ul></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:large;">Purple or blue, its funkytown rip out that tuff. </span></li></ul></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;font-size:large;">Black with maggots, nee nor nee nor. Find whatever brutal cleaning bleach cos Genghas, its murder time, again. </span></li></ul></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"><b>Tadarr!</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">If the mere mention may make you recoil, you may now be uncontrollably retching. But after the act you find it all, gratuitously great. Remember this is fun for all the family. While you feast on liver burgers and brain shakes like you’re on I’m a celebrity, the kids are making intestine braids. And the Bird? Well the bird gets the best deal, immortality, in a way.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-44191117079485784472011-03-07T02:29:00.000-08:002011-04-12T08:06:04.841-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3pmaYKeuH5k/TXUugJvBOdI/AAAAAAAABCw/F3fEFGlEoYQ/s1600/how%2Bdo%2Byou%2Bdo...%2Brevolution.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3pmaYKeuH5k/TXUugJvBOdI/AAAAAAAABCw/F3fEFGlEoYQ/s400/how%2Bdo%2Byou%2Bdo...%2Brevolution.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581418443099421138" border="0" /></a><br /><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:180%;"><b><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:'Helvetica World',sans-serif;" ><span class="Apple-style-span">HOW DO YOU DO... revolution</span></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >Isn’t it all cosy? Yes I’ll have another pillow, double fluffed. This life has been good to me, well me and my family, King Abdul, Prince Mustaffa, General Muhammad; they’re all finding their own way in this life. I feel honoured having the honour of divine control over our once proud now humbled nation. I thank God for the black gold under our sandy soil, without that, our lives could have been compromised. Look, look, there’s another cash camel coming back through the palace, hey don’t take any for yourself.<br /><br />You get the jealousy sometimes, but once you lock them up or stone them they soon quieten down. It’s almost as if they never existed. More Jackson juice! I need these slave, assistants, y’know, this palace and my arse doesn’t clean itself. It can get right dusty in those dark corridors and windy cracks with lots of crusty faecal matter smeared around the hole; they really should take care of the toilets.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Geez Gods</span></span><br />What’s that? Who’s banging at the doors? What? There are peasants at my door; I hope they’ve come to profess more jewels into my lap of luxury. You say what? They want my what? Not completely happy, positively vivid, homemade flags, packed lunches, mobile toilets, aggrieved expressions. Madness, what about the new statue, people must be protecting my statue, what? No head or genitals. Well let’s find the perpetrators, no one can hide a six foot wide penis, call the police immediately! The police are singing while lighting candles. Well the army, get my army! "They are already here, they’re banging at your door.”<br /><br />Who’s got the helicopter keys, and who told me the underground network of tunnels to the sea-pods were a little bit wacko?<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Hey down here, yeah near the dirt, yeah us</span></span><br />So apparently we’re getting a little hacked off living under people and not receiving as many rights as other nations, I say we, not us, we’re quite content with those dictorial dispositions from our officially unelected officials, rights stripping and taxing us till we’re on our knees begging to be educated.<br /><br />It’s the other nations in more obvious areas of conflict, where our nations go to fight; yep you guessed it, da da daaaaa, the Middle East. Never a dull moment in the Middle Eastenders, anyone would say they own our newspapers the amount of time’s they’re featured in them, oh that’s right, some do, beats Mad Murdoch.<br /><br />So if you’re under a military despot who reaps some sort of pleasure from paying you in individually wrapped rice grains for you’re seemingly pointless but compulsory job as rice grain wrapper. When, after a 96 hour shift you return home to find your goat raped and a tax on walking’s in force which costs you roughly your lives wages per footstep and you’ve just been sauntering.<br /><br />I think someone needs to revolt.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Super-fast Broadbam!</span></span><br />Well traditionally speaking revolts start when a person talks to similarly aggrieved people has some meeting for all to gather at Kindling and Co or wherever to bring down their crippling monopoly on twigs. But fuck that, this aint 1807 or 1936 or 1344 this is neue, new, neo. Our society doesn’t even need to get off its arse. We got Twitter, yes Twitter; the place where everyone documents what’s happening on, but nothing ever happens on it. This bongaloid of a noticeboard is where you start phase one. You need to use some sort of inflammatory statement that’s already been said but change a few words, something like “Friends, Egyptians and you over there, lend me your status update.“ Remember to use a hash tag. Twitter has basically reinvented that dusty key above the shift, left of enter in some sort of babble kite-mark. In the Charts # is now the third most popular non-letter non-number, thing. No 2 is your old favourite @ and at No 1 is & cos you can make a newly discovered smiley face with built in nose, look &)<br /><br />Once you’ve gathered enough friends, revolutionaries and bored strangers, make them meet in some park or open space, squares are not so good cos you can get boxed in (har de har har). Let’s get ready to...<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Rumble in my tumble.</span></span><br />Before you pop off grab an inspirational packed lunch, imagine you’re going on a week long school trip to Stonehenge and they are only serving genuine medieval cuisine. So definitely all of the big four: Snickers, Mars, Lion and Twix with some satellite sized crisp sandwiches orbiting a considerable Jaffa cake galaxy. If you live in a country without this I would recommend using Lays or Ruffles though they are not proper crisps due to them having only the flavours: paprika and salt. If you do not have Jaffa cakes, an orange in a choccy bun can do. Failing that, mud-covered sponge?<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />The thick of it</span></span><br />So you’re there, everyone’s chanting and sweating from all the chanting. There’s a real atmosphere here, it’s like Coldplay and U2 have just announced their not going to play. But all is not as it seems.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Jenga Risk</span></span><br />Oh no, the man who you’re trying to topple has found out you want to topple him and has sent in an anti toppling unit to topple you back. Now I know you might be running low on wotsit sandwiches. And a sweaty yeti is soaking you with his solidarity hugs, reporters from SBC wants to ask your opinion over and over again, the pen on your homemade banner doesn’t read COME TOGETHER and now reads COME TO HER which is making one women very nervous. Sticks and stones are been thrown at you by those scutty chip-butty neighbours of yours that get right royal shoes for watching 24hour Kingwatch. And your legs are proper tired. But stand strong, stand firm and stand a little a little bit closer to that big man who’ll deflect those rocks from your face. Start humming come on Eileen and imagine your names Eileen. What the…<br /><br />Tanks, ok so he’s sent in tanks, turret armed, angry, tanks. And men with guns. Big bad sausage shaped smoking guns. You need to hide, grab some metal preferably carbon fibre or diamond coated metal and cower.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" ><br />Cheeks of stone.</span><br />If you stand your ground and they don’t decide to carpet bomb their own people to the point there is no population, whatever they try, however tempting it is to succumb, stay and you should, maybe, if you double cross your fingers, win. What you win might be a robbed dry indebted war torn land with factions vying for control, or the spoils of a land free from tyranny.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Give war a chance</span></span><br />The Beatles said, “ we’re going to have a revolution” but it didn’t happen. We opened our minds then went back to a slightly different but inherently similar lifestyle. For all the dreams and ideals spouted in those “crazy” days, very little came true. Is that what a modern revolution is? A deep upheaval for ultimately a similar lifestyle but just with a few things you or I want that we don’t currently get. Or has even revolution become just another one of those words, like democracy and evil that’s social, political, geographic, religious, cultural or illusionary. That’s my ending, just a big.... HAS IT? With a ask your fucking selves question mark pinned onto the lack lustre betrayal of feeling like you’ve read something of worth to be found out, you have not.<br /><br />Next week: HOW DO YOU DO… THE FEELING THAT EVERYTHING YOU HEAR IS A HOLLOW EMPTY MESSAGE, EXCEPT AND INCLUDING THIS.</span><b><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:'Helvetica World',sans-serif;" ><o:p></o:p></span></b></div> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:12;" ><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><o:p></o:p></span>JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-16911010222971928112011-01-18T12:47:00.000-08:002011-01-19T14:20:53.839-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gYH6sGBgKb8/TTa1HX_ziiI/AAAAAAAABCk/hjvCfYarugM/s1600/NOTHING_final.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 380px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gYH6sGBgKb8/TTa1HX_ziiI/AAAAAAAABCk/hjvCfYarugM/s400/NOTHING_final.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563833527968172578" border="0" /></a><br /><style>@font-face { font-family: "Arial"; }@font-face { font-family: "Cambria Math"; }@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: Cambria; }.MsoChpDefault { font-size: 10pt; font-family: Cambria; }div.WordSection1 { page: WordSection1; }</style> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:27pt;" lang="EN-US" ><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:27pt;" lang="EN-US" >HOW DO YOU DO....</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:27pt;" lang="EN-US" >the absence of nothingness</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:27pt;" lang="EN-US" ><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Last night, in bed, I could not think, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">no really I couldn’t , I tried pretty hard but all I got was a faint hum, after a while I had a slight headache and the reoccurring predominance of damp.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">We have damp, I was staring at the damp patch in order to concentrate so that means damp was by no means a thought.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I tried to think about anything else, dolphin tits, fridge fires, I got damp.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">You try and imagine the ancient Neanderthal laying at the edge of his cave looking up at the infinite universe of possibility sparkling back, gazing down over the outstretched savannah, listening to the orchestral chorus of creatures calling and talking, flirting and shouting, I bet he wasn’t thinking of nothing, he was probably thinking, "need change cave, this damp."</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:17pt;" lang="EN-US" ><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Raw nothingness</span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">You’re never thinking nothing, your brain’s always producing something, it's just a lot of the time that something is toss.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">If I try and remember back I used to have tons of ideas pouring out of me on a daily basis like: </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <ul><li><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">How to end world war with a combination of non-prescription drugs </span></span></span></li></ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <ul><li><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">How to make a million pounds (normally from around five quid) </span></span></span></li></ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <ul><li><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Train a dog to live for me</span></span></span></li></ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <ul><li><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Taxidermy restaurants</span></span></span></li></ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <ul><li><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">How to fight every animal that ever existed if they suddenly decided to attack me whilst avoiding an apocolyse fuelled by a guerrilla linuit gypsy army brainwashed into believing I am to blame for the melting of all ice just cos I once held some matches.</span></span></span></li></ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <ul><li><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">How to make Inuit gypsies love me within 4 seconds</span></span></span></li></ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <ul><li><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">How to live my life so I was truly happy </span></span></span></li></ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <ul><li><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">How to think of u</span></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">tterly unattainable clichéd ideals</span></span></span></li></ul> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Those things, that spark of its namesake is an insult to its namesake, sparking is a distortion, maybe squelching or vomiting a thought is closer.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">This act of intellectual sabotage leaps from the brain box like Billy Bollocks’ debut dance until just as the vocal chords tense up with dread, the brain alerts.“Scratch your nose, it itches.” You itch, it’s gone.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">There’s only so many times you can itch your nose or cross your eyes before you might be described as Terry with the Itch Twitch or just T.I.T.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 16, 1);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:20pt;" lang="EN-US" ><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Respect the gaps</span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">People who talk to fill space, good space, space in which everybody else is trying to use to think of a way of never having to meet you again.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Nothing allows that, without it, innocent people are sent to jail for manslaughter.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Nothing is both what comes and what isn't there. Stereotyping is what people with a lot of nothing do to make something, they gather all their vague observations, reinforced them with dramatic grotesque exaggerations, tossed about with the local mad persons checkout chat, and y'know you've got a pretty leaky but powerful stereotype.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">All you really need from there on in are people just as bone idle not to really question the elements of your statement or even the overreaching consequences of repeating that statement and you've got almost dictionary delusion of fact.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:19pt;" lang="EN-US" ><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Doing</span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I lose so much time doing nothing, I say to myself it isn't nothing, everything is something but sitting looking at a monitor with the same image lit, slowly searing itself into my iris, is nothing.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">It comes with no intellectual nourishment, no visual or sonic stimulation, I’m probably, from the residual effects of prolonged use dying because of it, yet it drags me back time and time again, for hours upon hours.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Yes it's not porn, it's work.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Porn, I can handle the repetitive hollow nothingness porn gives is a reinforcement to love real people and don't go for people who look like porn stars unless you like looking at your girlfriend or boyfriend with other peoples jizz on their face.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Nothingness in porn is the enlightenment and the allure, it's not gonna fill the hole but it'd make you feel distracted for a bit.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">From the wacked out stares into the middle distance, to the strap on passion and the razzed up plot, porn is more like a nothingness circus that we can feel jealous then better about, as long as we’re not wiping the milky tears away.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:21pt;" lang="EN-US" ><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Hollow</span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">When your low, real low and you think you have nothing, you think people who have nothing have more than you because you are sad and sadness is a minus, even though that guys homeless, without shoes in the rain, eating fatty grey chicken, he still can't relate to the utter nothingness in you.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">He still can't understand the loss even though it seems he doesn't have anyone and even his dog is keeping her distance, there's still a smile on his face, although that could be a Glasgow kiss those thugs over there gave him. And as you close your triple locked door and make your steak sandwich, you realise maybe you can love again because you might not be an empty hollow with nothing inside, you were just hungry.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"> <style>@font-face { font-family: "Arial"; }@font-face { font-family: "Cambria Math"; }@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: Cambria; }.MsoChpDefault { font-size: 10pt; font-family: Cambria; }div.WordSection1 { page: WordSection1; }</style> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><b style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:21pt;" lang="EN-US" ><br /></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Lots of little tiny nothings</span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Sub-atomically we are next to nothing and the nature of ourselves as one life form is interpretational given we are many billion independent living cells inside atoms joining to tissues to create organs and muscles and matter that unite to be you. Each element is considered nothing to us but combined they are everything to us. If 5% chose to die we might die, we are nothing without next to nothing. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">As the millions of mindful life forms pass down arteries flowing to the heart of our cities to keep this country breathing, the elements wonder. Strip away the social validity of everything and what we are left with? The core human spirit we seem to have retired as a remnant of the past, a nothing.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">While the planets and star systems follow their paths, their orbits, their eventual collisions and evolutions they too forget their past in a linear interpretation though the scars are still visible. For those humans are less than a cell to them, for us the planets are everything.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b style=""><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:27pt;" lang="EN-US" ><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">In the end there was…</span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Nothing nilalists say.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Towards the end of his life, Hitler was a nihilist, pinch of salt? Our whole society could die before our very own lifetime expires.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Our desires hopes and plans for the future could all be less than the electrons, which started a brain idea that’s "not totally awful." As we ask other brains that weren't trying to work ‘being Chinese’ into an inflammatory statement.</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Reach a conclusion by masturbating over a visual representation of the plan to create more future amalgams of many billions of gluon cells within atoms that form cells bind together and make tissues combined to make a genetically alike nothings that will die because there is no future.<br /><br />So as we limp, single minded and short sighted into environmental suicide we are reminded of all that we know and nothing that we have learnt. The absence of control is the resulting scared, burnt, crowded, filthy, choking world we have. We our own executioners. From having everything to soon nothing. In the end we all want something, working, doing, buying and believing it’s for something? But secretly fear the fact we may have nothing.<br /><br />We will be left with nothing if nothing is nothing. If it is more, if nothing isn't negative space, unaccounted darkness, thoughtless thought. The absence of nothing could very well be anything, it is without type, desire or purpose, it just is. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I think I've confused myself.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 16, 1);font-family:Arial;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 16, 1);font-family:Arial;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I think I’ve confused myself.</span></span></p> <p></p><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></span><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;font-family:arial;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 16, 1);"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style=""> </span></p>JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-66025001211378168062010-11-13T15:11:00.000-08:002010-11-14T15:24:18.486-08:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gYH6sGBgKb8/TN8bTV7ipzI/AAAAAAAABCQ/KESk70rPtSc/s1600/planet%2Bapple.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 398px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gYH6sGBgKb8/TN8bTV7ipzI/AAAAAAAABCQ/KESk70rPtSc/s400/planet%2Bapple.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539176085807343410" border="0" /></a><br /><style>@font-face { font-family: "Calibri"; }@font-face { font-family: "Tahoma"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; line-height: 115%; font-size: 11pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoAcetate, li.MsoAcetate, div.MsoAcetate { margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; font-size: 8pt; font-family: Tahoma; }p.MsoRMPane, li.MsoRMPane, div.MsoRMPane { margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; font-size: 11pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }span.BalloonTextChar { font-family: Tahoma; }ins { text-decoration: none; }span.msoIns { text-decoration: underline; color: black; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> </div><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:180%;"><b style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">HOW DO YOU DO...<br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:180%;"><b style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">the growing annihilation of everything by apple</span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:130%;" >B</span><span style="font-size:130%;">astard bedclock. Without choice or off switch the routine reverberations inflicted on my innards by my tick-tocking mattress brings me from REM to ROM:</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">Ready On Macintosh.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">From the corner of my eardrum I hear the swish swooshing of my partner’s gait.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></p> <p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Hello Big Balls.” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">You can personalise them, you know.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">They’ve made the skin so life-like, the gestures smooth and tactile, yet the companies insistence of everyone in the i1 series topped with the head of Steve Jobs as a memorial to his contribution is at best, sexually confusing and at worst, the concept of an utter bastard.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:130%;" >“Hey Roger, let me make you some wonderfully cool Mac snacks.” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Oh no, haven’t you got anything else Linda?”<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">(I chose to change the name).</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></p> <p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“ical say’s you got a meeting at 11, so your body needs the iron, and you know how your bowels...”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Alright I‘ll have the goddamn cereal”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Mac snacks?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Yes”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Are you going to wear your turtle neck today?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“I told you LINDA, I'll never wear that <i style="">thing</i> you bought me, particularly in black.”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“I’ve got it in grey, it is minus four outside”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“What’s your idroid repairs code?”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Battery low, going into sleep mode”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">The year is 2058; you say it twenty fifty eight now because that’s the proper way.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">The world is largely the same other than, insta-porn and 6G, even my toenails have signal, quiet why is probably something to do with the rise of insta-porn and toe-sex.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Oh and Apple’s taken over the whole worldwide control and governance for all time. </span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">I suppose it was inevitable really.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">You could tell from when the C of J (Church of Jobs) started.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">The shops began changing; people used to come in with all their money and come out with grey boxes.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">Some people just sat there, staring up at the beaming apple.</span> <span style="font-size:130%;">Weekends would see organised pilgrimages, tens, to hundreds, to hundreds of thousands from all and sundry gathered until Brushed Steel Sunday.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Then the Apple sign appeared on TV channels, in papers, on dogs, squirrels and fishcakes. What with all the fanatics and mantras t</span><span style="font-size:130%;">he competitions cries became quieter and incompatible until they were obsolete even to themselves.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> The perfection and secrecy, the money and control, you couldn’t escape it; you didn’t want to, it’s cool, slick and works, who couldn't live another second without that?</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Governments pleaded to be owned by them. People begged to be ipods. I couldn’t buy an unbitten Apple anyplace.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >As the tag of the Apple App says. “The world’s just got better, ah-pple.”</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:130%;" >“Blump, blump.”</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >I have to go to my 8 to 8 job.</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > </span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >Everyone works for Apple now, over in ihub 5b over the iroad, past the icafe, on istreet 200,000.001.</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > </span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >I’m a trainee Genius, my Mega-mind boss Britney is a real processor, she’s the new Bab core quarto cinco seis series.</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > </span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >It’s apparently amazing working here, so they all keep saying, I think those rose tinted isight goggles must be “really super”. </span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span class="msoIns" style="font-size:130%;"><ins cite="mailto:Roger%20Daniel" datetime="2010-11-05T15:05"></ins></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Blump,blump.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Yes Linda”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Roger your wicked new ipants have arrived with anti-dribble”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Thanks for telling me and the whole ibus, don’t party call me again</span><span style="font-size:130%;">.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">Can you individually hand wash all my old pants, drying each with the exhalation of your breath.”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“But that would take...”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Bye Linda”<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">I don’t even know what I do at work, no one does. <span style=""> </span>We are told to praise the new things and everything’s an innovation. Occasionally they come in and tell me to emotionalise this, so i sort of gasp and cry at the same time, they usually go away looking a bit confused.</span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" > </span><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >Thing is, this life I’ve got with Linda Steve Jobs and the ifish, it’s ok, it’s just the day to day niggly things that get to me.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Like how many more times are they gonna reinvent the book? The answer was seven then they transformed and revolutionised the book by calling it something insane like ibook. Now I have to throw away books because people in the istreet call me cavecunt.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Why pre-curse everything with i. If it’s ubiquitous we might as well just call things what they are again, like bus, or sellotape i-sellotape is pretty much the same as sellotape, Apple just made it in the shape of an Apple which isn’t really innovation, if anything it’s a bit annoying cos the tape gets stuck in the bite part which is a nightmare to get out.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Another thing, ok Helvetica is law, so we can’t change that but every word being gradiated is a bit much. It’s like I’m in some revolving reflection falling into the bases of lower case g’s and y’s.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">A novel reads like a commercial, it’s like letters have got too much gravity and end up just fading like the word slurberburber.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">I also noticed everything pre Apple was not a rip off, now I have to remortgage Linda’s legs each time I tick off my shopping list which isn’t fun for Linda, she’s 1<sup>st</sup> generation, her bits weren’t put in well, and those faffy clips, nightmare. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);font-size:130%;" >“Yip Yi Roger”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Beiber, hows’s things?”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Bad, real bad. I got a load of mp8s unallocated, corrupt and renamed Ko Biddley”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Oh really, what a crisis.”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Not with the new sort, export, robort from Apple, it’s a revolution in organisational mistakes.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Great”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“You know what’s really great?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">...</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“The price 209.99, the worlds just got better, hey?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“I suppose so, anything else today that will re-blow my already blown mind?”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“No, but Apple are...”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Bye Beiber”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">It’s like everyone’s an advert, it’s super fast, it’s oh so beautiful, worth the extra money, and you can’t get a virus. That was the one they lived to regret.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">Corkscrew-cock.jpg was its name.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">Who would have known Little Willy Gates from a mansion in Medina could create such a monster, the virus was also very devastating.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Within 12 hours, half of the world’s Macs were hacked and their desktops changed to Windows 95, causing such emotional trauma many reported monitors falling from the sky and hysterical middle managers listening to the Rolling Stones ‘Start me up’ on repeat, screaming. “You make a grown man cry.” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Thankfully Steve Jobs hitback with a virus wall so high it can be seen from Bournemouth.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">Since then no house has any windows.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">The Rolling Stones were put out of their fans misery and violently euthanaised by force-feeding them their entire mediocre back catalogue, the whole event lasted 17 hours and was watched by 2 billion people, their biggest concert ever.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Blump, blump. You’ve got a meeting in 1 minute and no seconds.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Some days I feel like just rebelling from it all and living with the Flashplayers in no -Iceland.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">They have a whale of a time with whales making unauthorised videos and playing them back, so the seals say.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">They don’t care they’re not in UltraHD 3D-D.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">They just get by roughing it in MegaHD 3D-D.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">It’s not a life though, they can’t even smellup each other using wiremore networks. They still use Facebook Ultra, yeah the one with the virtual sex poke.</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Blump, blump, meeting now”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);font-size:130%;" ><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Morning Roger, let’s get down to it”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“O.k. what’s it?”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“You know and I know we’re not allowed to say what it is, we can’t even talk about what it’s used for, but we can definitely confirm there’s an it and it’ll be big”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“What dimensions?”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“We can’t discuss size, big as in sellable. Size is a week 13 matter.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">Right now in week one we have to discuss it’s possible presence in the future.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Ok so what is the reason for its need?”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“The need, all is necessary in our global effort to keep making things better for reasons unknown for a causes unrealised, the world’s just got better.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Everyone <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);">“Ah-pple ”</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“So what’s this meeting for?”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“For, for the fact we had a meeting in week one to discuss it.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">If we didn’t how would we cope in week 2, the whole thing would be a mess.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Quite, is that all?”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 204);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Yes, I grouped you in for a meeting next week furthering are discussion in week one.”</span></p> <p style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Sigh. "Bye"</span><br /></span></p><p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Blump, blump. How was your meeting Roger?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Like frying eggs in space”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“That’s a good joke, please correct if response was unsuitable.”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Beep, response corrected”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“How was your meeting Roger?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Like frying eggs in space”</span></p> <p style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-family:georgia;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Are you hungry for eggs?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">“Yes”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:Roger%20Daniel" datetime="2010-11-05T15:05"> </ins></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:Roger%20Daniel" datetime="2010-11-05T15:05"> </ins></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p>JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-50198672898986395602010-09-30T11:20:00.000-07:002010-10-01T12:38:35.313-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gYH6sGBgKb8/TKY4qD-1HbI/AAAAAAAABCA/mi_gElLUF78/s1600/HOW+DO+YOU+DO...bicycles.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 361px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gYH6sGBgKb8/TKY4qD-1HbI/AAAAAAAABCA/mi_gElLUF78/s400/HOW+DO+YOU+DO...bicycles.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523164288290987442" /></a><p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-family:Helvetica;font-size:31px;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:6;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:24px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; text-align: center;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:31px;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">HOW DO YOU DO...</span><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; text-align: center;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:31px;"><span style="font-size:130%;">A bicyclist</span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; text-align: center;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:31px;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Riding over the metaphorically green yet moralistically boastful cycle route, overtaking Pashleys, city-suits and hot-head racers, becoming angry at the green light waiters and the any light chancers. I start to inwardly cry, as I am now part of this, part of this, this ugly hi-visibility, largely detestful commuting thrift drain.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 20px Helvetica; min-height: 24px;"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:180%;">I dreamed a dream of mountains high</span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Looking down at my racing bike that imagined a life of French Alps and got the Great Marlborough Street potholes I feel it deserved more. Though I quickly change tune when it’s tune decides to squeek and groan. Thinking it’s fun to rupture it’s own inner tube or for no reason the brake just falls off, the seat snaps my bag buggers up my brakes or the man who fixes all those things fails to tighten the wheel properly and causes me another £50 worth of wheel repair for my bike that only cost £40 to begin with.<br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">I feel great sorrow for those beautiful streamlined racing machines under a sweaty hippo pedalling in first, with his house in paper form weighing on the wheels. I feel for those people who buy a Pashley because they think they’re cool or chic. Pashley’s were never cool; vintage Raleigh’s, old Dutch bone breakers, Triumphs, Bmx’s, those, (and my bike) those are decent bikes. Them big ass off-road mongoose bikes, the land rovers of the bike world, they’re cooler than a Pashley. Those fucking “I want to die,” lie down and peddle with my feet higher off the tarmac than my head, they’re cooler than you, Pashley. Bob with his new age shiny silver fold up child’s pram wheeled bike his work gave him half the money for is probably the only guy who’s less cool than you.<br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 24px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Come on</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">So if you’ve got a bike you probably hate me or hate yourself right now, fine, that’s good. If you haven’t you now see cyclist’s do have a) A heart that’s not filled up with leftist propaganda and b) A sense of honest shame for one’s kind like you, person. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 23px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 23px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Mind Mantra</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">The mindset of a cyclist is: avoid death, evade pedestrians stopping me from going fast, and go fast. It’s like you’re on a tightrope but the tightrope is only a foot off the ground but if you fall you’ll probably hurt yourself, so <i>don’t fall.</i></span> </p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Secret routes and sly corners are what it’s about, breathing monoxide is pretty much what fools do, hanging behind a bus that’s slurping up passengers while a tight but squeezable gap exists is sacrilege. When there is no one at the traffic lights, they’re is no need to wait. Amber is green, amber is green, red is almost amber which is green, kind of, ok maybe not. The point is common sense is paramount coupled to a generalised risk assessment weighted on the suicide side. Then, dodging through the taxis, cars and buses like a spaceship avoiding death is actually quite fun. Put some suitably 8 bit music on a mini boom box and it’s now level 10. Bim bim bim bim bim bim bim ewwwwwwwwwwwww, bi bo bi bo ohwwwww bi bo bi bo bi bi boo.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 22px Helvetica; min-height: 26px;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 20px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Miss or die?</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Almost dying everyday can get a bit trivial, the method’s, graph-able; car swerving at me 13, bus head on 2, HGV and truck crush 9, pedestrian running out 4, car doors 3, sudden brake ahead 8, car cutting corner and me 10.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: bold 13px Helvetica; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: bold 13px Helvetica; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Graph showing Roger's possible chance of death<br /></span></p><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gYH6sGBgKb8/TKTs4UhBtUI/AAAAAAAABBw/rLLDA6OFUjY/s1600/HOW+DO+YOU+DO...bicycles.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 371px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gYH6sGBgKb8/TKTs4UhBtUI/AAAAAAAABBw/rLLDA6OFUjY/s400/HOW+DO+YOU+DO...bicycles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522799495387133250" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica; min-height: 16px;"></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica; min-height: 16px;"></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I often wonder if those bored squatters will paint up one of those white death bikes where I die so later on some other squatter’s can take all the parts off it and just leave a mankey frame chained to some rotting flowers around weepy wet cards. I wonder if my photo’s in the paper, if there is one, is it one of reckless stupidity (i.e. no sympathy) or dedicated concentration (could have been someone although he left it pretty late but look at that stare). I wonder if it’s a motorist that kills me and if he get’s his licence back will he fear the cyclist and give them a King’s hard shoulder of space, patiently waiting behind Grandma in her two speed mobility scooter. I wonder if by luck my helmet flies off giving me the satisfaction of dying not looking like a special needs outpatient. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> I was told this was apparently morbid.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 25px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 25px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Splat</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">People with babies strapped to the front of their bikes, baby crash barriers. “It’s ok they don’t get scared, they’re facing me”. So when the little cherub cries out for Mum’s attention just as the juggernaut smacks into his spine, that teeny shitty brain unable to comprehend the resulting death from his beleaguered bleating. She’ll walk away with baby colon matted in her hair; pathetically whimpering, “I couldn’t have done anymore.” </span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">You see dogs, cats, other bikes, twins even, shopping trolleys, trailers, and plasma TVs all strapped on and peddling down to doom town. I ride a bike to escape the responsibility of killing another thing, those fucks revel in it.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 20px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 20px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:180%;">It’s your letters</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">I read the pages of papers with their letters bemoaning the lack of courtesy drivers give, like they are some sort of higher being that is above lights and pedestrians and a equal respect for cars, and I agree. And when the motorist writes back the next day lambasting the cyclists lack of proper highway etiquette making them their own worst enemies, I huff. I huff, poof and cut some poor taxi driver up mostly endangering myself that would fuel another letter the following morning.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 22px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 22px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">(Bicycle) Superhighways</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Those blue things that make your road look like a smurf’s just wiped his arse down your street, those are the future of cycling, you know, so this leaflet said that came through my door. These superhighways are the Mayor’s hope for London to eventually become more like Amsterdam. Is everyone ahead of him with this one, good. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Thing is, practically speaking there’s only two, so if you’re not say, going in either of those directions then their pretty much useless. Once I rode past the end of one and that’s the closest I been. It’s ok cos in five years they’ll be twelve so we’ll all be fine, as long as everything we need and want is along those routes and vehicles just don’t ignore them like their some sort of painted goading to reoccupy the taken territory. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 22px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 22px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Hi Vis, Hi de low</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">I don’t know what happened to fashion and bikes, but sometime, long ago they had a row, probably over trousers getting caught in the gear system or poo brown splash backs and they divorced. Many attempts have been made to reunite these scorned lovers: Helmets with that sporty set of swish holes in, cycle shorts, flat caps, bowler hats and mustaches all of which don’t get on with BRIGHT NEON YELLOW! </span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 25px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 25px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">What choice</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Comparing the various types of transport available to me: jog, walk, saunter, tube, motorbike, scooter, bus, car, bike and donkey. I think I’m best suited to the type I’ve got. I need to lose weight, I have a poultry income, I can’t afford to run or for that matter own or buy a car. Buses smell, tubes are far too impersonally awkward, walking is slow as, and donkey’s have fleas. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 24px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 24px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Well I don’t add to the environmental impact though do I? Ouch!</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">The smugness of a cyclist to a non-cyclist is roughly the same gloating self satisfaction reserved for non-smokers to smokers (believe me I’ve been on both ends.) In all honesty it’s generally well meaning recommendations, it just comes out like some twat trying to make you exercise and give up something you like whom himself looks still pretty unfit and withdrawn. I suppose at least we're not those circus rejects, the unicycler. These bunch of free as a bird fuck-fools think they’ve had enough of two wheels and have decided to jaunt down the pavement wobbling like adverts for fascism. I want to know their route, so I can grease up some corners. I’ll film it then send them the video everyday until they apologise for making the human race look so bad.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 37px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 37px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">But why?</span><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 13px Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:130%;">I don’t think you should ride a bicycle cos of the environmental impact or you just can’t be bothered to do recycling, your ethics are misplaced and you’d be better off going round putting corks up cow’s shitholes. I don’t think you should ride for your health, unless you’re mega fat and that would be purely for the amusement of others. I definitely don’t even think you should ride it cos you think riding’s cool, it isn’t, it’s often uncomfortable, wet, and knackering, you’re a dick, get over that stripy shirt and go sort your i tunes afro pop artwork out. I think you should ride a bike cos it’s fun and maybe cos you can’t afford the bus.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 11px Times New Roman; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; font: 11px Times New Roman; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p></div>JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-9496641976957921352010-08-05T04:37:00.000-07:002010-09-06T12:51:46.837-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gYH6sGBgKb8/TFrFZSpPsWI/AAAAAAAABAY/-TnK_q6E8ec/s1600/Untitled-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gYH6sGBgKb8/TFrFZSpPsWI/AAAAAAAABAY/-TnK_q6E8ec/s400/Untitled-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501926933078716770" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">How do you do… </span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Fucking Facebook</span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">The bane and sacrament of so many, </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">facebook</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">, the joyous routine of the masses, </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">facebook</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">, 500 million converted, </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">facebook</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">, a million photos a second, </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">facebook</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">, the blue and the white, the blue and the white, </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">facebook.</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Sly omnipotence fathered this mass miss communication device. Wary at first, you created a profile conscious of the past. But this is easier; this is a Dyson when you were using your friend’s cellotape. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><s><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></span></span></s></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><s><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Cellotape</span></span></span></span></s></b><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b><b><span style="line-height: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Myspace</span></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Oh Myspace, we scarcely remember you, it’s only music right, music you have, and nobody seriously checks their profiles anymore, do they?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Going through is like a graveyard to the past, where people designed their pages, at times using actual programming language. Creating self-absorbed multi-coloured marvels, glitter effects abound, whirling, bouncing and flash flash flashing at your eyeballs. It had personality, too much personality, videos intersected by reams of long tall paragraphs, 100s and 1000s of films and music lists, interests and hobbies, interests and hobbies? They’re your friends; you should know this. Then, a more innocent time, Myspace was the future now the future is in the past. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">So we left our friends, saying we’ll be back, this facebook thing won’t last, I might as well try it though, but it looks so rubbish and sterile and restricted, why would I stay here?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">But we did…<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">…well most of us did, some just joined up thinking, “Blimey this new emails come along way Pat.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Better, faster, stronger, longer?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I can’t criticise it because I use it, I like it, I think I like it, it’d be like criticising my own judgement, I can’t do that. Anyway </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">facebook </span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">is so everywhere and absolute it’s like the new extreme ping pong, imbibing itself into our consciousness like a collective ego try to manage it’s whims. Desiring friends, comments and likes, scavenging promotion, prostituting a stylistic something?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">What’s on your mind?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Why? Fuck, off! I know what you’re for, basically it’s for if you have something to say and nobody cares, something you want to tell the whole of your facebook friends because you think they should all know this hilarious joke about anal sex with a starfish or this wondrously witty statement about the current death toll in Afghanistan being the same as the amount of heroin addicts living in the U.K. using the epitaph “their both fuct.” Or just plain moods & foods; frustrated = meatballs, happy + potato faces, philosophical… Alphabeti spaghetti. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Prying like some psychotherapist or social worker’s staple statement, what’s on your mind? “The reoccurring feeling I’m wasting something, doing nothing.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Every so often you get angry public confessionals over spited fuck fails leaving neglected children, jilted one-nights, and carelessly obscene rant-fests. Oh wait, someone has gone from single to relationship, meh, oh someone’s gone from relationship to single, woohoo! Break up has a salivating relish to the grit sandwich seeing that little comic heart ripped apart. Come on, I missed out on public execution, it’s entertainment. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Campaign!</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I want to get 500,000,000 people to ignore my stupid issue I have with something so banal or pointless nobody has done anything to change it so far that it takes me pestering, so people join and I get interviewed by Melinda Messenger which will be the high point in my life yet the lowest and slowest point for the already unfortunate viewing public. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I’m being mean; getting Rage Against The Machine to Christmas No 1 was pretty amazing. Saving 6 Music was an achievement for the continued employment of John Peel’a’likes. The “we demand a rematch” campaign for England seems to have petered out at a hearty 1001 some of which joined after Spain’s victory celebration which marks the END of the World Cup. Though the campaign for scroll wheels on electronic readers is seemingly boundless at 31.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">You know who to thank when your £400 e reader comes and you realise the new 3D scroll wheel pokes out your bag making it impossible to carry, so you have to resort in using that small, light, unaffordable, energy independent, drop proof, scratch proof, book.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Friends</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Denying and accepting friends is a power trip; if you consider rollerblading cowabunga cool and use the phase cowabunga. Basically a warning before uploading yourself onto this is. Do you want to read information from people you used to avoid in Secondary School in the same teenage tongue they used then but with added lols, wtfs and babies, then come on in. Thing is, if you don’t accept the scalls they’ll be offended and probably try again and if you turn them down again, they may happyslap you. The irony will be lost. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">What about those others, the ‘non-cunts.’ The ones you meet and think, “yeah, I think they deserves my surname.” They’re not your friends yet, they’re just people you’re curious about in a voyeuristic sense but will probably never meet again. From the moment you swapped your request & accept the time makes the very situation of your meeting automatically awkward and eventually almost impossible due to unfathomable information you have acquired through profile spying while waiting to be invited out by them. Conversely meaning you could quite probably friend fuck their minds the moment you meet.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Your friends are people you meet in person or talk / interact with, in brief, the real. Just because your facebook friends ‘like’ a thing you said, wish you a reminder happy birthday, say they’ve answered a randomised question about you or gave you some jpg champagne bottle, doesn’t mean a cabbage patch in Farmville. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">New Photos</span></span></span></b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Hours wasted clicking through 1200 photos of a snap-happy friend’s holiday photos; house, car, me and her, old house, me and her and old house, horse, food, close up of food, beach, beach, beach, sea, local, me and her, her cleavage, me, beach, me and beach, sea, sea, sea, boat and sea, sunset, sunset, sunset, sunset (repeat). Then there’s Crete 2, and Crete 3, Crete 4. You’re thinking is there a single thing in Crete they haven’t photographed, then there’s Crete 5.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">It’s like you’ve suddenly become the person you hate, the person who actually wants to look, earwigs other peoples conversations, spies, lies and changes their image from their face, to their face, to their face, back to their face.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Out of control: Party</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Watch it drinks’a’lot, when you have your crazy facebook party, it can quickly turn into asphyxiated nightmares. But that’s o.k. you can hide yourself amongst the 2,000 strangers tearing bricks from mortar like dumb drunk bored beasts. Cos that’s why I go to parties, wanton destruction, lobbing stuff at police while being squeezed into a crowds of screeching and screaming 14 year olds collectively drunk off a can of their Dad’s Magners. No really it’s great, you get a £20,000 bill and your face in the paper with the words “stupid kid” or “misguided dickface” underneath, you’re a legend, now go see what your own piss tastes like.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">The world and his hamster</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Even on a bad, good or indifferent day, it’s the same innocuous space. Everyone’s on, your mums on, the guy at the shops on, the guy at the shops nine year old son’s on, the guy at the shops son’s dog’s on. You share this new millennium super virtual social network with things that enjoy licking their genitals, and dogs. And people still wonder why intelligent life hasn’t answered our calls.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">WARNING - Irritants</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">The things I hated on Myspace were shit bands that ceaselessly wanted to be my friend then sent me ten anyone messages a week about their gig in an attic which, by their last gig in a cupboard should be shit shattering, by that I mean, fucking awful. On facebook nothing’s changed, dicks request you and then event you, update their night, nightly. Posting pestering prats in pretentious posings indifferent from lasts weeks posing pricks. Your weekly slew of motivational messaging to “wreck it” and “join us” because, you can’t miss it. Then you miss it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">My Book?</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Come on, facebook is another way to show us up as us. Your honest display of gaudy loutish slut-bag, quirky irksome try-hard, cooler than dress-the-autopsy nights at Not a Night, hipster. Oh and the “can’t you see I’m so damn successful.” Big Deals. Then there’s the rest of them, us, a mix potch max hotch of people with their own opinions, their own reasons, their open gates or private walls. All not quite sure the reason why they’re on this virtual floating database full of, to all intense in purposes, useless chatter and updates on said chatter. Too much to really care, there’s no going back, we’ve gone too far, the chats are too numerous and facile to decipher the messages too vague and absentminded to be worth viewing. We’re intertwined in a colossal soap opera on good days more depraved than ‘naked burning aids babies rim the tweenies’ and on bad days less exciting than ‘Songs of Praise : Musical Medly Hour’ you’ve just watched, repeated, for the entire duration of your life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=" line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">We need it, but without it, it won’t be missed but the </span></span></span><span style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS', sans-serif; font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">fear is, will we?</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1512947344862198948.post-49275984772150084122010-06-22T14:00:00.000-07:002010-06-23T12:16:44.813-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gYH6sGBgKb8/TCEoqULWhGI/AAAAAAAABAQ/5DEQGsR7lSw/s1600/how+do+you+do...small+town+minds+br.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gYH6sGBgKb8/TCEoqULWhGI/AAAAAAAABAQ/5DEQGsR7lSw/s400/how+do+you+do...small+town+minds+br.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485710528549913698" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16px;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"> HOW DO YOU DO…</span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">small town minds</span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style=" ;font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Wait, wait, wait, no, what? I don’t get it.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">"Small town life, innit comfortable? You know where you are, ‘cos it’s pretty hard to get lost, s’only 300 metres across. I only got lost twice.</span></span><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Same old </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I don’t trust Politician’s, there all posh fuckin’ barmpots. One came up to me last week and asked me what I want? What </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> want? I said you don’t know what I want. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">If I could ask ‘em a question, d‘you know what I’d ask 'em, d’you? If I could ask them one question I’d say, how much is a can of special brew? Wouldn’ av a clue. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Nothing’ll change, it never does, other than everything getting worse and more expensive. I remember when a pack of fags were a quid and you could smoke anywhere you wanted, everyone’s a health div. I think it’s a government conspiracy to sell more organic carrots and nicorette plasters. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I’m voting BNP next time, 'cos at least they’re British, it’s in their letters. Our friends, they said they’ll vote BNP as well, they said; ‘pack 'em back off to where they came from,’ and I said, ‘on economy flights, without no in-flight meals or duty free.’ We laughed so hard I shat myself. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Them</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">But what of it, our Tomo and our Matty, they’ve got no jobs 'cos of </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">them</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">, them Polish, not cos ‘em crap NVQ grades, they did try to wake up on exam day. Too pissed. </span></span><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Y’know what, they’ve even got a Polish shop now, it doesn’t sell microwave chips or pizza like normal shops, nooo, everything’s pickled and jarred n looks right ‘orrible. A feel sorry for them cos I don’t think they know what real foods like 'cos they’re soo poor. Why, they need go back to their poor country ‘n make it as great as our Great British Empire. Our Tomo’s scraping by on’t benefits, having to make pirated DVDs while’s he’s not watching Jeremy Kyle just to make ends meat, I mean, it’s not a life is it?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Noooo, a </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">hot</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"> vindaloo.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">But there’s no community now is there? And they blame us for chucking eggs and shouting names, but I just claim the freedom of speech like they did in that Ally Mc Beal that one time, it soon shuts ‘em up. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">They don’t fit in, with their bright multicolour silks and Gold spangles. You don’t wear that in the street, you wear a full length tracksuit or joggers and a low cut top, bloody fools. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">The can’t even speak us English tongue, can they ay? I wouldn’ even mind if they learned </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">our </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">language, I wouldn’t, but they don’t even try. Living in their slums, where housings all cheap and make it look like a low price area. It’s bringing all the house prices down 'cos people like me don’t want to buy an house next to 'em.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Mad</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">And those bleeding burkahs! My sister Shell, she’s free as a bird, ask anyone. She wears owt she wants, boob tubes, naughty nurse outfits. Last week it looked like she had on this see through nighty int' club. But if she lived there, yeah there, in Iraq n all that. She’d be banned and hanged like Sadam Hussein 'cos they’re all mad. That’s why they wanna' bomb us, heat stroke, no it’s true, I read it on one o them conspiracy websites. They’re crackers from it and that Islang don’t help. I tell ya </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I’ll</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> Jihad 'em if I see one and then I’ll jihad them all, whatever that means. I won’t really, they’ll lock me up. It’s just the women, they look so unhappy in those burkahs. You can tell it in their eyes, no smeyes, I watch ‘Next Top Model.’</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Mosks</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">And those mosks, in our town we got a bloody great big one, like a Mr Whippy. They all go and pray to halal and get their bombs. But you don’t know, the next bombers could live round ‘corner, I’ve had my suspicions, I tell you. They seem to buy a lot of baking powder them lot and baking powder (I learned from school) makes bombs. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">The police don’t even bother, they say, “thanks for your input , All the information is invaluable” It’s always the same woman as well, very well spoken, I think it might even be one of those recorded conversations, if it was I must take up a whole wall of tapes by now, I reckon I’ll be getting some medal soonish. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Fat lot of good they did in September when we had them race riots. Locked up the wrong sort I think, I don’t care if they caused all of the problems, have a history of violent assaults, attacked unarmed minorities causing thousands of pounds worth of damage in SS uniforms screaming; ‘cleanse them, cleanse!’ brandishing burning stakes. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">They’ve always got time for a chat and a cup of tea.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Me-yor-kah</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I love holidays, but what really gets on mah tits is the natives. Greasy, slimy bastards they are, hanging about like they own the place. They always wanna' rip you off or charge you this and serve you poisoned shite. They bother you while you’re bronzing on the beach, all tatty like, wanting change or offering sewer soaked oysters. I wouldn’t eat an oyster it they paid me! God’s honest truth. It’s always fish, every night fish this, fish that, I hate fish. No mushy peas either. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">That’s why we go to the sports bar, 24 hour English TV. Steak, chips, all day breakfast, all day and night. And the bar staff are English, I wish we could take it back to our town, my mates‘d love it.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Thugs</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Bloody kids, all they do is join gangs and do drugs. The other day I caught Matty smoking a joint and I made him smoke it all to teach him a lesson, you know what he did, he laughed in my face. No respect. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Them dangerous dogs, they should ban 'em all, well, except for our neighbour’s pitbull that’s for security and the odd bet, he’d never bite </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">my</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> face off, he fears me, I have to kick good n proper to keep him friendly. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b>Willy woofters</b></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Did you hear about Ricky Martin, did you? Well, I don’t like him anymore. I can’t believe he’s a gay, he danced so manly with those flamenco twists and that open shirt. I don’t think he is, he’s probably just confused, he’ll be in the rehab soon, they all go there, the rehab. Posh hospital. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Our Tomo went to rehab. He said it weren’t too posh then, but he did go a few months after Britney and it was some miles from LA, Swindon I think. Said it smelt of piss and vom but good chips. I was a bit jealous cos our chip shop’s not up ta much. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Fit as</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I like a real man, not one of those floppy haired, neat and polite pansy’s. One that’ll have a fight if they need to cos someone disrespected me. A man that’ll take me and fuck me even if I resist. One that drinks stout or Stella and smokes BnH, wears Nike, supports England and has a tattoo of me and his other kids on his cock. I like a big man preferably a skinhead and called summing like Dug or Fill. So they can romance me in the rear and curl up with a film and some brown.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Pencil pushers</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">That’s not a real job, sitting in some fancy office typing and answering calls in a shirt. That’s a women’s job, men need to graft a hard days work. If my lover wanted to stay home and take care of the bairns while I get off my jobseekers and work in Asda for minimum money I’d pack him in, right off. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I don’t need to work. Just like the homo cavemen. Proper women clean, men hunt and moan about the house not been clean, the giant phone bill and eating spuds, beans, and sausages every night while he’s watching on't box some todd ‘eating filet gugons a la fuck.’</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:";"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold', serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'Arial Rounded MT Bold';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Movers and wigglers </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I mean nowt changes in a small town. We don’t get owt here, nothing much happens, so well, we still want to change like them city folk. So we just; get old, get kids, marriage, steady job, reliable car, mortgage all before we’re 25, preparing for our next change, middle age, then its old age, then death. Our kids‘ll hopefully do the same and us whole human race can keep surviving. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Sometime in 3000BD they might be a future me, in silver hot pants looking fit and definitely gagging for it.” </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Arial Rounded MT Bold";mso-ansi-language: EN-GBfont-family:";"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Arial Rounded MT Bold";mso-ansi-language: EN-GBfont-family:";"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="Arial Rounded MT Bold";mso-ansi-language: EN-GBfont-family:";"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->JOLLY ROGERhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00783431169281777041noreply@blogger.com0