why must we be forced to suffer these embarrassing school boys who in real life couldn..t get a laugh in a room full of cider filled 14 year olds? I..m watching never mind the buzzcocks, now this has never been a piece of priceless programming but at least under mark lemar it wasn..t uncomfortable to watch.. who..s this new kid? You can see the embarrassment on the face of the captains and contestants as he spouts is pre-teen cringeworthy bottom vomit. He..s almost as bad as that topman indie boy prick that channel 4 seem to think was worth a job on big brother and worse, presenting some big deal show [probably awards]
I use these brackeds [] by the way, not because I don..t understand life but because my NINE key is broken, if I want to print the numeral between 8 and 10 I have to find it written down and copy and paste.. it..s a ball ache
But yeah, these twelth rate ..comedic presenters.. who gave them jobs in the first place, worst still, who keeps giving them jobs.. I mean for heavens sake.. jimmy carr exists.. . ah jimmy.. how I wish they..d bring back ..your face or mine.., even more so how I wish they..d franchise it to the student unions so I can go see a bunch of hormone driven mentally undeveloped couples ripped apart live every week [actually.. that righting you just read.. that..s me copywriting that idea.. I..ll be ringing the union tomorrow! Oh jesus, I think I..ve found my destiny. There really has never been a more glorious invention.. dear boy, here is your current girfriend.. here is your ex.. for £300 who do you think the audience has voted as prettiest.. and for another £300, your girlfriend, or her best friend? I nearly cried with glee every single show.. absolutely mindblowing genius! I..ve got goosebumps a little just thinking about it.. or is it because I left the windows open? I guess we..ll never know, one of life..s great mysteries
The police helicopter is outside again, I..m beginning to think they just like to look at me in my shorts. Cos really, if you stole a car you wouldn..t want to be driving it round here.. the programming of the traffic lights is awful.. you..d be caught in no time.. though it would be a comedy chase, with chaser and chasee getting stopped at separate lights, driving round in circles always in sight but never quite able to be together.. like those old comedy sketches with a bunch of doors that people keep popping in and out of.. you know the ones
Oh lord beyonce..s reading of the idiot boards is awful, and she don..t even got boobs, awards shows have really gone downhill since I were a kid
Todays been a strange day, another cold crisp winters day, when all I really wanted to do was walk around, either with headphones on or with someone fun, enjoying being outside, people watching, taking in the scenary, getting slightly covered in that really light rain. But I haven..t, and I can..t really put my finger on why, I had the freedom to do it.. tis the price of laziness I guess
Oh.. I found out you can go skiing, on mountains.. in SCOTLAND! 2 hours from Edinburgh.. if I wasn..t so woe I..d express joy at this, now there is a real holiday I want to go on.. 3 days skiing, 3 days in the edinburgh winter.. maybe through a couple of star27 gigs onto the end of it.. early 2007 is gonna see at least one week in paradise
We..re booked into London at the end of January too.. so there..s a weekend really exploring the capital on the cards, maybe even spending an evening with a best friend.. that time off I..ve been promising myself looks set to be gaining a purpose
It..s good to have things to look forward to, tomorrow is pretty scary when tomorrow looks set to be the same for as far ahead as you can see, I..ve been thinking a lot recently about the addiction of possibility.. how I, and many people I know, spend every night either out in pubs/clubs or logged on.. why.. because both those things give the possibility that within 5minutes almost anything can happen.. it won..t of course, we all know that life is just step after step of predictability and repetition which will slowly but surely destroy us all from the inside out.. but y..know, possibility.. it has quite a lure.
Myspace isn..t gonna let me post this now.. I sent a message earlier and it kept coming back with error messages, so I tried again and again.. turns out every single attempt was actually successful.. so some lucky person has the same message from me about 12 times
Ah well, was fun while it lasted
Thursday, 16 November 2006
Thursday, 9 November 2006
In the Wintertime
people go nuts for the summer, with the heat and the brightness and the lack of clothing.. but as we all know to be true, people, in the main, are idiots
but really days like this that are the real treats, crisp, dry, and just cold enough to remind you that you're warm blooded, days when it starts to get dark around 4pm (everything is better in the dark), days that make you just want to walk around all day and all night, in town, in the country, in parks in town, near water, up stairs, sitting on walls, days that make little things seem that much better, or easier to take, things like traffic and walking with the music turned a little lower on your headphones so you can hear the noise of the traffic over it, physical contact with another human being, a warm drink outside, lights - in general, coming in and turning the lights on, the pogues.. hell, even keane, moving between pubs to feel the contrast of warmth and cold, watching a sport or an outdoor play with a pie
even the fact that the electrician LIED to you when he said he'd fixed the heaters, so you'll find yourself sat here freezing later on... but that's ok cos under the stairs there's an old electric fan heater you bought for the old flat
of course... i'm neither a girl, or JD from scrubs.. so all that up there, i'd never write, you must of imagined it, wishful thinking? being that i'm more of a dr cox what i actually wrote was something about what absolute bastards everyone is and how there is no such thing as an non-selfish human act (there isn't).. so i don't know what you've read.. but it wasn't this..
man you're an idiot!
woe x
but really days like this that are the real treats, crisp, dry, and just cold enough to remind you that you're warm blooded, days when it starts to get dark around 4pm (everything is better in the dark), days that make you just want to walk around all day and all night, in town, in the country, in parks in town, near water, up stairs, sitting on walls, days that make little things seem that much better, or easier to take, things like traffic and walking with the music turned a little lower on your headphones so you can hear the noise of the traffic over it, physical contact with another human being, a warm drink outside, lights - in general, coming in and turning the lights on, the pogues.. hell, even keane, moving between pubs to feel the contrast of warmth and cold, watching a sport or an outdoor play with a pie
even the fact that the electrician LIED to you when he said he'd fixed the heaters, so you'll find yourself sat here freezing later on... but that's ok cos under the stairs there's an old electric fan heater you bought for the old flat
of course... i'm neither a girl, or JD from scrubs.. so all that up there, i'd never write, you must of imagined it, wishful thinking? being that i'm more of a dr cox what i actually wrote was something about what absolute bastards everyone is and how there is no such thing as an non-selfish human act (there isn't).. so i don't know what you've read.. but it wasn't this..
man you're an idiot!
woe x
Sunday, 5 November 2006
Happy shopper
i'm gonna open a shop.. it'll be called.. clothes for men
it'll have huge signs over each section - jeans, trousers, shirts, t-shirts, jumpers, undies - in each section will first be a set of rows of bog standard stuff... plan coloured jumpers, normal blue jeans, black boxers.. you know.. the stuff boys actually want to buy... then there'll be other rows with the less plain stuff.. y'know for gays and girlfriends to buy from
it'll be fucking paradise
none of this primark.. you have to walk right up to the table to find out these jumpers have bits of t-shirt stitched in them (if i want to look like i have a t-shirt under my jumper.. i'll wear a t-shirt under my jumper), or that the genes have marks on them like some retard work experience kid spilt bleach on them (i'm quite enough of a retard to do it myself thankyou).. it makes me sad
so very very sad
it'll have huge signs over each section - jeans, trousers, shirts, t-shirts, jumpers, undies - in each section will first be a set of rows of bog standard stuff... plan coloured jumpers, normal blue jeans, black boxers.. you know.. the stuff boys actually want to buy... then there'll be other rows with the less plain stuff.. y'know for gays and girlfriends to buy from
it'll be fucking paradise
none of this primark.. you have to walk right up to the table to find out these jumpers have bits of t-shirt stitched in them (if i want to look like i have a t-shirt under my jumper.. i'll wear a t-shirt under my jumper), or that the genes have marks on them like some retard work experience kid spilt bleach on them (i'm quite enough of a retard to do it myself thankyou).. it makes me sad
so very very sad
Saturday, 4 November 2006
Well I can't really dance but baby won't you dance with me
i don't think there's any real point to this blog (is there ever) but if i don't get it out of my head i'll never sleep
we all have recurring dreams, well i do anyway.. well ok i have two, but one i've probably talked about before because it's everynight, about 10mins after i go to sleep.. the one where i'm incapacitated in a way i can only describe as 'drunk but no drunk' my head is totally clear and i'm usually very aware of what is going on around me, which is almost always threatening, or at least requiring urgent action, but i have little or no control over my body, including all limbs, head and, usually, voice. so i wrench myself awake and then have trouble getting back to sleep for a bit
but that's not the one on my mind.. this one always involves a house, or more accurately, upstairs in a house.. sometimes it's up a grand set of stairs, sometimes it's through a loft... i think this comes from when as a kid my gran lived on the ground floor of a 3 story flat, when the lady upstairs died we got access to the previously forbidden world of the higher too floors.. which were much bigger than i'd ever imagined
the bigger things important, because in the dream this upstairs section is always unfeasibly large... one time it was an abandoned nightclub/rollerskating rink which had another floor that was a luxury open air flat, another time it was floor upon floor of a huge dark, cobwebbed, of which one floor was of course haunted, or home to some kind of hellish creature, making it all the more enticing.. but it was filled.. cluttered.. with stuff, facinating stuff, old furniture, utensils and implements, a real treasure trove.. apart from the fact that most things were too big to remove (this particular building was accessed as you would a loft through a hole in the ceiling.
common features everytime are that i'm always rediscovering the building, that is in any one dream i will always glaze over my personal introduction to to it and then dream in more detail about how i am showing it to somebody else, though that person never actually enters the building so while i feel i am showing them it, i am infact just wandering round on my own
another common feature is that these buildings are always either made of wood.. or cut roughly from stone, cave like but with the features of a buidling made from modern materials... and example once being sun loungers cut from a single rock
well there we go, that's out of my head and i feel much better... tomorrow is sunday, a whole 24hours off work... here's to hoping it brings something new and interesting
we all have recurring dreams, well i do anyway.. well ok i have two, but one i've probably talked about before because it's everynight, about 10mins after i go to sleep.. the one where i'm incapacitated in a way i can only describe as 'drunk but no drunk' my head is totally clear and i'm usually very aware of what is going on around me, which is almost always threatening, or at least requiring urgent action, but i have little or no control over my body, including all limbs, head and, usually, voice. so i wrench myself awake and then have trouble getting back to sleep for a bit
but that's not the one on my mind.. this one always involves a house, or more accurately, upstairs in a house.. sometimes it's up a grand set of stairs, sometimes it's through a loft... i think this comes from when as a kid my gran lived on the ground floor of a 3 story flat, when the lady upstairs died we got access to the previously forbidden world of the higher too floors.. which were much bigger than i'd ever imagined
the bigger things important, because in the dream this upstairs section is always unfeasibly large... one time it was an abandoned nightclub/rollerskating rink which had another floor that was a luxury open air flat, another time it was floor upon floor of a huge dark, cobwebbed, of which one floor was of course haunted, or home to some kind of hellish creature, making it all the more enticing.. but it was filled.. cluttered.. with stuff, facinating stuff, old furniture, utensils and implements, a real treasure trove.. apart from the fact that most things were too big to remove (this particular building was accessed as you would a loft through a hole in the ceiling.
common features everytime are that i'm always rediscovering the building, that is in any one dream i will always glaze over my personal introduction to to it and then dream in more detail about how i am showing it to somebody else, though that person never actually enters the building so while i feel i am showing them it, i am infact just wandering round on my own
another common feature is that these buildings are always either made of wood.. or cut roughly from stone, cave like but with the features of a buidling made from modern materials... and example once being sun loungers cut from a single rock
well there we go, that's out of my head and i feel much better... tomorrow is sunday, a whole 24hours off work... here's to hoping it brings something new and interesting
Friday, 3 November 2006
Friday afternoon
so, i forced myself out of bed at crazy-o-clock (read.. 12) in order to make the most of the day off before this evenings work. the flat is tidy, or at least the room in in is, which is all that really counts, does anyone care about what they can't see.. well nuerotics i guess, and blind people, and maybe people in the dark... speaking of the dark, i hard proper horror film nightmares last night.. the kind when you start screaming in your unconciousness and wrench yourself awake (i feeling similar, i would imagine, to pulling your head out of a tar pit while drunk), and when you've finally lifted up your 20stone highlids and focused on the empty room you quickly realise you're a 28year old man and pray to heaven that the screamin gwasn't so outload that either your brother downstairs or your neighbours could hear.. after a few minutes nobodies come running so you were either silent or nobody gives a shit about your well being so you try and get back to sleep with a new found loneliness in your heart
where was i? right yeah, the rooms tidy and the washing machine is pissing me off so that must be working, i've finished the flyer i spent all yesterday at work staring blankly at without inspiration.. it's not gonna change the world, but it's good enough
most importantly i've had me self confidence totally and utterly destroyed by arcade games, it's been years since i was a computer games geek and i'd forgotten the crushing dissapointment and violent mood swings that can be cause when some fucking set of computer generated pixels makes you repeatedly look like a chump
those little hexagons, they think they're so smart with the duplicating and leaping, i can see them laughing at me as my bits of red dissapear, all sat around in their little cyber room snorting 'that russ again, what a spastic, i'm gonna make him think he's winning, give him a tiny little thrill, then i'm gonna smack him round the head with my mighty powers, reckon we can make him cry guys? i reckon so.. here.. take that you tall human twit!
and the ghosts, ganging up on my little pacman, they don't play fair.. 4 of them, only one pac man.. bullies, that's what they are, you think i could sue them for emotional damage. who invented pac man? i reckon i have a case.. no win no fee blame society that destroys all sense of responsiblity, forgiveness and community spirit? give me a ticket!
you try so hard not to be woe, to be the shining beckon of optimism against seemingly insurmountable opposition.. and this stuff keeps kicking you
it's a cruel world
where was i? right yeah, the rooms tidy and the washing machine is pissing me off so that must be working, i've finished the flyer i spent all yesterday at work staring blankly at without inspiration.. it's not gonna change the world, but it's good enough
most importantly i've had me self confidence totally and utterly destroyed by arcade games, it's been years since i was a computer games geek and i'd forgotten the crushing dissapointment and violent mood swings that can be cause when some fucking set of computer generated pixels makes you repeatedly look like a chump
those little hexagons, they think they're so smart with the duplicating and leaping, i can see them laughing at me as my bits of red dissapear, all sat around in their little cyber room snorting 'that russ again, what a spastic, i'm gonna make him think he's winning, give him a tiny little thrill, then i'm gonna smack him round the head with my mighty powers, reckon we can make him cry guys? i reckon so.. here.. take that you tall human twit!
and the ghosts, ganging up on my little pacman, they don't play fair.. 4 of them, only one pac man.. bullies, that's what they are, you think i could sue them for emotional damage. who invented pac man? i reckon i have a case.. no win no fee blame society that destroys all sense of responsiblity, forgiveness and community spirit? give me a ticket!
you try so hard not to be woe, to be the shining beckon of optimism against seemingly insurmountable opposition.. and this stuff keeps kicking you
it's a cruel world
Sunday, 22 October 2006
The diary of a hangover
so thursday night i managed to get drunk, and not just get wobbly, say something stupid, text an ex, have a headache in the morning drunk, but the more severe kind of gaps in the night, definatley did something to offend someone, hoping everyone i know is still speaking to me, my wallet was completely empty when i got home kind of drunk, oh and of course.. worst of all, i danced, enthusiastically.
not that i'm complaining about this, i mean, of course every moment was hideous, unbearable, empty suffering and woe.. as is life, but in relative terms, i had a good time as i believe, and so far.. nobody has hit me, so.
however everyone gets drunk, and there's nothing more tedious than reading about other peoples nights out on the internet, what is always a pleasure to hear about though, is of course, the suffering, the following days.. the hangover
now i'm one of these people who believes the best way to kill a hangover is to sleep through it, this deals with a lot of the physical sides to it, sleep till you physically can't sleep anymore, get up, poop, maybe do a bit of sick, clean your teeth and you start to feel almost alive again (if one of course, can ever feel truly alive when we are all so dead inside).. but the physical side of a hangover is the same as having flu.. and i think we'd all be happy never to have to hear anybody whinge about having flu ever again.. WE DON'T CARE! JUST PISS OFF SNOTTY.
the real fun part of the hangover is the misery, they say alcohol is a depressant and lord are they right, the only thing worse for the ego is being booted in the balls by a girl in front of everybody you know.. erm.. i would imagine.. *cough* so we have about 24hours of complete self-doubt, of course coupled with THE FEAR (what did i do? do they hate me now? is this gonna look bad on my cv? should i have given more money to charity? where the hell is my sock? how can i live with only one sock? oh my god their gonna have to amputate!)
this then passes into the introspective part of the hangover, you've rationalised everything 700 times and decided that, after all, you can't have done anything that bad or you'd have had a date with either pc plod or a baseball bat.. or at very least somebody will have put something on the internet on which devil horns and/or a tiny penis had been added to a photo of you and the words LOL used somewhere, but you're ego is a needy bastard and you're not satisfied with simply 'getting away with it' no.. you're little bastard of an ego has one question.. which it keeps repeating, in song, like an annoying child until you're stood holding a kitchen knife in one hand, a book on anatomy in the other hand screaming WHERE ARE YOU YOU BASTARD I'M GONNA GET YOU SO BAD!
ahem
that question us of course, 'am i a bad person?'
now we're all human so everybodies answer to that question is inevitable. 'of course i am, i'm not fit to walk the earth, they should wrap me up in a soggy rug and hide me in a freezer till the develop 'good person' serum' - of course as well, being human, we've by now lost all grip on any specific faults brought up by the said night out at the evening box social where there was jovial banter, friendly games of cards and perhaps a waltz - so our self doubts are shot from all over the place.. i don't eat well, i never exercise, my house is a mess, i have no purpose, my life is a waste, will i ever love again, why can't i find that damn sock
so here comes the productive part of he hangover, in a desperate attempt to fix EVERYTHING with the lease effort possible, a jolt of motivation will make you set about a full spring clean, at least 2 meals that aren't fried and 50 press ups... that'll do, the wasted non purpose life and need for love will save, and it's best not to think about the sock.
then of course this being 2006, we'll blog about it, so everybody can join in our meaningless lives and share in our woe.
(sorry to anyone i offended on thursday)
not that i'm complaining about this, i mean, of course every moment was hideous, unbearable, empty suffering and woe.. as is life, but in relative terms, i had a good time as i believe, and so far.. nobody has hit me, so.
however everyone gets drunk, and there's nothing more tedious than reading about other peoples nights out on the internet, what is always a pleasure to hear about though, is of course, the suffering, the following days.. the hangover
now i'm one of these people who believes the best way to kill a hangover is to sleep through it, this deals with a lot of the physical sides to it, sleep till you physically can't sleep anymore, get up, poop, maybe do a bit of sick, clean your teeth and you start to feel almost alive again (if one of course, can ever feel truly alive when we are all so dead inside).. but the physical side of a hangover is the same as having flu.. and i think we'd all be happy never to have to hear anybody whinge about having flu ever again.. WE DON'T CARE! JUST PISS OFF SNOTTY.
the real fun part of the hangover is the misery, they say alcohol is a depressant and lord are they right, the only thing worse for the ego is being booted in the balls by a girl in front of everybody you know.. erm.. i would imagine.. *cough* so we have about 24hours of complete self-doubt, of course coupled with THE FEAR (what did i do? do they hate me now? is this gonna look bad on my cv? should i have given more money to charity? where the hell is my sock? how can i live with only one sock? oh my god their gonna have to amputate!)
this then passes into the introspective part of the hangover, you've rationalised everything 700 times and decided that, after all, you can't have done anything that bad or you'd have had a date with either pc plod or a baseball bat.. or at very least somebody will have put something on the internet on which devil horns and/or a tiny penis had been added to a photo of you and the words LOL used somewhere, but you're ego is a needy bastard and you're not satisfied with simply 'getting away with it' no.. you're little bastard of an ego has one question.. which it keeps repeating, in song, like an annoying child until you're stood holding a kitchen knife in one hand, a book on anatomy in the other hand screaming WHERE ARE YOU YOU BASTARD I'M GONNA GET YOU SO BAD!
ahem
that question us of course, 'am i a bad person?'
now we're all human so everybodies answer to that question is inevitable. 'of course i am, i'm not fit to walk the earth, they should wrap me up in a soggy rug and hide me in a freezer till the develop 'good person' serum' - of course as well, being human, we've by now lost all grip on any specific faults brought up by the said night out at the evening box social where there was jovial banter, friendly games of cards and perhaps a waltz - so our self doubts are shot from all over the place.. i don't eat well, i never exercise, my house is a mess, i have no purpose, my life is a waste, will i ever love again, why can't i find that damn sock
so here comes the productive part of he hangover, in a desperate attempt to fix EVERYTHING with the lease effort possible, a jolt of motivation will make you set about a full spring clean, at least 2 meals that aren't fried and 50 press ups... that'll do, the wasted non purpose life and need for love will save, and it's best not to think about the sock.
then of course this being 2006, we'll blog about it, so everybody can join in our meaningless lives and share in our woe.
(sorry to anyone i offended on thursday)
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