Monk's trying to get me fired

Now I'm not complaining, Monk is a great guy, sure I don't agree with his policy's on how to treat horses or the living dead, but he keeps his hands to himself, which is a start. His attempts to have me repremanded have not gone un-noticed, and all have backfired. When he tried to get me fired the first time he was told that they would rather fire him (which is nice). When he tried to get me file noted, again he was shot down. When he tried to get me fired this past week (and half the staff in that place) I "flip reversed it" to the point that the other half of the room stood there and hurled abuse at him until he mock-quitted.

You'll never win Monk. If you cut me down, a thousand more will stand in my place....I know that's a bit optimistic on the replacement front, but you get the point.

*Shakes fist like a disgruntled old man after a group of five year olds kick a football over his fence yet again and he needs to change his colostomy bag, which has no relevance as to his ability to shake his fist*

Spicy's little boo boo

It has been so long since I posted that I almost forgot to tell you about Spicy's accident. So, here we are, slightly drunk, taking tequila shots on the side of a waterfall in the pitch black of Jesmond Dene when someone comes up with the idea that we should all have a singalong, which is fine. If the tequila had been affecting me in the slightest I would have participated more. The best rendition had to be of Boom Boom Boom, but we never got past the intro.

Aaaanyway, someone who shall remain nameless, decided it would be a great idea if we did some paddling down to the base of the waterfall. Fortunately I wasn't anywhere near drunk enough and I decided I'd rather sit there and sing to myself (and I do do quite a nice rendition of Velvet Revolver's Fall to pieces if my throats in the mood and the acustics are good). Minutes pass and after my fifth rendition of the same chorus the gang come trundling back. I notice that Spicy is struggling a little and I give him a hand. "Give us a look at me foot ya wee English jessy" he said to me (or words to that effect) and so I did. Not only were there pools of blood following him, but there was a matching gash on the bottom of his foot where he had had an unfortunate run in with some glass. Needless to say the glass had probably come out of this ordeal a shade better off.

As everyone began to panic, I told Spicy to tie it up and we'd pop round to the hospital. Before that however, I got the most overwhelming feeling of hunger. The open wound actually made my mouth water and for days after I couldn't look or think of that foot without my stomach rumbling. As it started to heal I became less hungry, but up until then I was famished in it's prescence. I'm the same with wildlife programmes. When I see a gazelle or zebra taken down and devouered I get the urge to join in. Talk about your primal instincts...but why would it happen with a human too? Maybe this cannibalism lark isn't so bad as everyone makes it out to be....okay, now I really need to stop thinking about it, otherwise I'll have to find a late night butchers...or worse.

Once we'd gotten to the hospital and Spicy began to be abused by some doctor who really didn't give a damn, the nameless one and I waited in the waiting room. A fitting name for such a room I'm sure you'll agree. It was here we first met crazy crazy Arthur. Not only did he like my legs, but he insisted on showing us his. I would have been fine with that if he hadn't then started picking them to make them bleed (his own legs that is). After a few death defying feets, throwing his back out, the worst psychic impression of all time, proposing and coming out with the classic phrase "My fondness for you is growing stronger", we left him to his own devices.

By 6am we were out the door, Spicy with drugs and stitchs, the rest of us with fractured and scarred psyche's. By 8am I was getting up for work and spent the rest of the day like a zombie. MMmmmmmm brains.....

Adobe, bad dog, stop f*cking my wife!!!

This title has quite a bit of history and let me clarify one thing, I've never been married or owned a dog. I'm not going to get into it now, but what would run through your mind if you were a down and out 80's/90's DJ, who now does personal appearances at public fairs just to get by in a rented limo driven by your brother, where you have pictures taken and you can't hide your cold dead eyes long enough to keep up the illusion of happiness, and you walk in on your ex-wife (who you pay an exhuberant amount of child support to) getting jiggy with your dog (called Adobe, who you'd reared since he was a pup)?

Exactly.

Can't...not...blog...any..longer..and..use..double negatives

Sorry about the delay there.

Well, I know that the previous post has been upsetting people (and not only because it's the only thing they've had to read for the past fortnight), so here I am with a wonderful magical update....as soon as I can think of what's been happening.

Well, since you brought it up, I did dip my toe into the pool of relationship building. But it's too early to say anything at this point really, but if things start to develop I'll let you know more. Strange thing is, my manager already knows absolutely everything and I never told her a thing. She's got senses like a....well she's damn near omnipresent. Lets just say this, we got on well, shared some common interests, she struck up some conversations and we had a profound discussion about a remix of the Beastie Boy's classic Intergalactic, which you've just gotta read something into. Now if only they'd played some Outhere Brothers....

I've finally gotten the pictures from the housewarming onto my computer at home, and if you thought they were insane before, wait 'til you see them at full size. Oh my freakin god. I'd put them online now but Telewest are a bunch of dicks. Everytime I come home home I try to sign up, but it's always on a Sunday and their webserver always seems to go down around then. Today is no exception. I even came on Saturday, almost got it finished, but then it got too close to Sunday and it went down. Maybe their servers religious and refuses to work on the day of rest. Even now it's toying with me, going up and down like a fat guy on a trampoline, but not as mesmerising.

Talking about toying, I'm a big toy geek, I think I can admit that to you. Those who mock will be turned by there merest glimpse of my 20th Anniversary Optimus Prime....but that's not the point I was going to make. Today I went to Tynemouth market in search of booty...not that kind, have you any idea the average age of people who go to these places? That's more of the Monks range. Anyway, there were two things worth considering. One was a Star Wars AT-ST (chicken walkers as the woman kept calling them) for £10, which I'm kinda regretting not getting (they also had an AT-AT for £20 with practically everything missing apart from the legs and head), and they also had my favourite Thundercat of all time. Grune the destroyer was a Thundercats gone psycho avenger. Well Worth £2

What else has happened? We still haven't sorted any bills and the oven doesn't work, but that really isn't very interesting...unless we get arrested of course.

Oh yeah, I sorted out my DVD collection and it kicks more ass than ever. I've got it arranged so that when people look through they start taking the piss, then they fall in love with it and practically try to steal it away. Once people get to Big trouble in little china they're smitten.

I've finally met the neighbours and promptly forgotten their names. Apparently their old neighbours used to play knocky nine doors all the time so having drunken wasters who keep accidentally covering them in god knows what is a nice change. One of them even got excited when we started talking about computer languages, I however kept my cool and resisted leaping across the room and strangling him for liking Perl. I did get kick out of the situation when they told me that their main gripe about our loud music was that they couldn't actually hear it over the base. We're going to have to sort that problem out.

Three weeks since we moved into the flat and we're still not dead. I think we're going to have to go for some sort of record.

Oh, I've pretty much gotten over that massocistic phase. True I did get people to nip me hard on Friday, but there's a perfectly justifiable reason for that. Mumm-Ra told me to hug her (she had her arms outstretched too), to which I replied "I can't, that would look unprofessional" and walked briskly away. I got people to nip me to wake me up in the vauge hope that it was all a dream....however it was not. At this point of realisation, Kathryn came up with a great idea. Why not have Sam hug me right infront of her and see what happens. An interesting plan I'm sure you'll agree, and although it went off without a hitch, I can tell by the look on Mumm-Ra's face that Sam might soon have a very scary stalker. I love being unprofessional.

Over the past week I've gotten that craving to write again. After a good solid morning of searching I found my old old unfinshed story that I've always intended to get back to. So far it's mainly been about a guy moping around and getting depressed, but I have big big plans for him. I don't really want to give anything away, so I won't. Maybe I'll post the first chapter to let you have a look sometime. If you're interested that is.

Well I think that's about everything. If Telewest buck their ideas up I'll see you real soon.

Crazy companionship craving

Don't get the title wrong, I don't crave the companionship of crazies....I know enough of them as it is and you can never get enough of that. What this post is about is the human desire to avoid solitude. For years I've been a constant loner whenever possible, I had a few friends, but not many. Then I got a job in. Long soppy story short, it brought me out of my shell. I began giving a damn about people, true I still have the ability to hate someone without remorse, but if your not on the hate list then more than likely I'll care if you die in front of me.

This revelation is what caused me to want to move out of my parents place and into the wide world that had always been around me. It's at this point, and this might only be the way I'm feeling today, I don't know, that I feel the need for female companionship. I don't just mean the sex part, but the silent hugs whilst watching TV, arranging to meet someone just because you don't feel like a complete person without them. The little things that people take for granted like a certain look or a....I don't know, the list is endless.

Now I've never been able to feel that close to people, I find myself subconsciously pulling away. I guess it all has felt like school where you've got the constant suspicion that people are just out to make a fool of you. But I've changed. My mind is willing to let people in, but my body language is in a constant state of tension. It doesn't help that I have no idea how to speak to random strangers. I can only really come out of this protective bottle if I have time to get to know people. Obviously that means going out to meet people will probably never work.

All in all I'm not depressed about it, it's a nice new weird feeling. Well not new, but one I've not had in a long time. I just need to figure out how to take it from here.


All input is greatly appreciated hehe. See you soon peeps

Almost a week without blogging, withdrawl shakes

Howdy. I know it's been a while, but everytime I've tried to sign up to Telewest broadband their sites been down, curse you telewest *shakes fist*.

I hope there's still a few of my peeps dropping by to check this thing out, I will get back to it as quickly as I can. For now lets see what's been happening.....

I got passed over for promotion at work and spent three days drinking to forget about it. I know I know, "drinking isn't the answer" or whatever, but sometimes it is. This has largely been helped by the fact that I've been drinking with such good friends and I thank you all for joining me. The people I work with are some of the greatest friends I have ever had, and I'm not ashamed to say it.

Also, I've gotten an addiction to pain, and it wasn't until I heard the word "Masacist" when I became worried. We all know I spent a large portion of the flat warming by getting people to hit me, but for two or three days after I kept egging them on. I've finally discovered my problem. I've been trying to avoid worrying about the problems in my life by distracting my mind with physical pain. The biggest part of this has been the promotion, as mentioned above. It's gutting when everyone knows you can do the job twice over without breaking a sweat, yet the paperwork pulls you down. The worst thing of all? I used the same template as a manager only to find out that it's shit and not worth the paper it's printed on......but I'm okay now. I haven't asked anyone to give me a slap in atleast two days.

The flat feels like home now, although I still don't have enough room to unpack. I'll work on that this week. Plus, my mam just offered to do my washing for me, bonus!

Oh, and there's one more thing, but that's for another post.

Just keeping you posted whilst I'm internetless

I feel dirty for not blogging in such a long time.

There is a free internet connection in a coffee shop down the street though so that might have to do until Mumbles gets round to calling Telewest.

Believe it or not I still haven't managed to unpack, even worse is the fact that the bookshelf I was going to buy was damaged so I returned it. That means I'll have a crap load of boxes in my room until further notice.

I can tell you now that according to Spicy, the rumours about him being anally raped with an HP sauce bottle were somewhat exagerrated. Apparently it was only attempted rape with a lager bottle, after which he was covered in said sauce.

I smell something fishy about this promotion at work. Something feels....off. I know I'm going to get screwed over somehow. Hmmmm

On another note (and no I don't know why I'm not putting these in seperate posts) Itlay won the world cup and I won the sweepstake, get in!

Party aftermath

Morning all. Anyone feel as crap as I do? Last night was indeed the greatest party I have ever been to, seen, or heard about. It's rare for me to get as drunk as I did and as a result it's rare for me to feel the effects as much as I am. What is it about a hangover toilet break that makes you feel so much better? I feel like I just expunged a small Yorkshire village from my bowels.

Thanks to everyone who came, especially those that obliged me by punching and slapping me. Yes I was THAT drunk. I keep getting flashbacks too. Like the skateboard that appeared from nowhere that Spicy fell off. And Heather biting me for some reason, God my nipple smarts. Oh, and I got some crazy addiction to Apple Sourz. So much so that after each person had a bit I
stole the bottle and had a bit more for myself. Watching my little bro throw up in the middle of the living room floor was nice too. I'll put the pictures up when we get our internet connection up probably....curse those who put their hands in front of my camera, I have so many goddamn pictures of your palms.

Now you all know how kick ass our tree is.

We should do that every week.

Moving day!!!

Well there it is folks. We've signed the contracts and own the keys to our future. I'm just about finished my CV and after that I'll be packing this bad boy up ready to ship it to the new flat. I hope it doesn't take up to 30 days to set up an internet connection....guess I'll have to blog at work. Don't worry, I'll update as regularly as I can.

Oh, and it's our what? 4th week bloggerversary? I need a quote don't I?

From Atilla the Hun, as quoted in Superman 3:

"It is not enough that I succeed, everyone else must fail"

Peace out yo

Last day at home by criminy

Morning all, okay so it's 4 in the afternoon, but it still feels like morning. I've managed to do absolutely bugger all today so I better get the whip out.....quite why that would help is beyond me, but it's something to do. I've still not finished my covering letter/CV either. I've got to pick up the keys and sign the contract in 3 1/2 hours too so I better get cracking.

Geez, that was a load of nothing wasn't it?

Split personalities?

Is it possible to have split personalities on a small, useful level? I think so. I mean, a couple of months into working at the place I am now, I got so used to the problems people spoke about on the phones and which responses to give, they all came automatically. I went in for one four hour shift and when it was over it felt like I'd only just sat down. Maybe it's just the subconcious taking over when the frontal lobe doesn't need to function. And in that case, how worried should I be that my job has become such a big part of me that my subconcious can do it?

It still happens occassionally. If I've got a really long and boring complaint to apologise for, it'll just happen. Why is that significant? I'll tell you.

I've always found apologising hard. The main reason seems to be that it is a way of admitting defeat, and that's not something I like to do. You're a pretty privileged person if I apologise to your face, and even more so if it isn't forced. This is why the phone version of me is a bit worrying. Why the hell is he so apologetic? What's his problem?

The move is almost here....

It looks like my appetites come back. I don't know if that's my stomachs way of telling me it's pleased with my progress regarding the move, or it just gave in on it's little huffy hunger strike. Fuck you stomach in any case. I'm not your bitch. Just you wait 'til Saturday when I fill you so full of booze you won't know which side of the barn to piss on.

I could go for another massage right about now. That would be nice....sorry, just thinking out loud.

Picking up the flat keys tomorrow and signing the contracts. After Saturday that means no more getting up two hours before a shift starts. No more shitting myself when the guard dog rottweiller down the street sniffs my crotch...although that was a one off and we parted on mutual grounds. But seriously, have you ever looked down to find one of the most vicious breeds of dog sitting there staring at your crotch at 6 in the morning? It's a bit of a buzz kill.

No more having to watch "How to lose a guy in ten days". Man I can't watch that film an eleventh time. Every bloomin time it's on sky my mum will watch it. No matter how much she's missed. Come to think of it, I'm sure Mumbles said he liked the film, so I'm not quite out of the woods yet.

What else? I guess there's no issue about the volume level of porn. Yeah yeah, I know it's a seedy evil subject or whatever, but really, there's just no point if you can't hear it....unless it's a magazine, then I'll let you off. Of course then there's that awkward social situation when you sit there watching the TV, you hear your classic porn groans and then you know someones doing something you don't want to know they're doing. And then, if they've read this, they know you know they're doing said act and automatically think of the one listening, which is jut plain wrong. Yes, porn remains a tricky subject.

Of course I'm only focusing on the positives here. There are far too many negatives and they're all boring as hell.

For those that think I'm stressed out, I'm not that far gone. My pulse is as steady as ever (a curious medical note I'm sure 'cos it never seems to change, even when I got that prank call threatening to come to my house and kill me), and the only reason I mention subjects of note more than once is because of this damn overactive imagination. Damn you brain, another body part I can curse!

Too much packing, by Satans beard is there too much packing

That's it, I give up. I can only compartmentalise my life so much in one day. It's not the emotional side of things, it's just too damn boring and hot. Kinda like staring at a magic eye picture for two hours to find out it's a picture of a nudist beach.

 

Pah, I'll leave it 'til tomorrow so I can freak out and run around like a mental patient on speed whilst being chased by a swarn of killer bees. You know, the usual revision dash technique.

Mid-packing blog

How's it going? I'm in the middle of packing right now and I've gotten to that stage where I've just realised that for the past 10 minutes I've just been sat there staring at a corner of my room. That's why I thought I'd pay the blog a visit, to get my mind working again.

I'm a firm believer that you are not defined by the objects you own. However, I've just spent the past hour and a half putting games and DVD's into boxes. 4 friggin boxes man. My back is killing me. I don't think my room in the flat will be big enough by far. Shelves are definetly a good idea.

It's far too hot to pack....

Undead boogy

Now you know me, I love undead bodypopping as much as the next guy, but I've got one question about the Beatfreakz music video for "Somebodies watching me" (the one with the midget Michael Jackson). When all the zombies rise from their graves, they're all dressed like they had just been to an 80's disco. Who in their right mind would bury their relatives like that? Unless it was a bus full of discoing orphans that went over a cliff, then I'd understand.

Profile views

Veeery interesting. I have a quite frankly weird habit of checking how many people have viewed my blog profile every few days. Over night the number of people who've viewed it has jumped from 24 to 44. Nice one.

King of Cocktails

Those of you who've been out with me once will know that cocktails are my kryptonite. I'm unable to resist getting one at even the most inoportune of times, like that one time in the middle of a lesbian bar, where all these large women are drinking pints, I stood at the bar, perused the menu for a bit, then ordered some sex on the beach. Things didn't quite kick off like I thought they would, but I'm still glad I've got my kneecaps.

My main problem is that I never remember which cocktails I've had or whats in them (I pick them at random or just choose the ones with the most alcohol in them). As such, getting a cocktail bar in the new flat may be a bit of a larger effort than first thought. Maybe I need to buy a book, or just steal cocktail menus from bars. That's an idea, if you are coming to the house warming, see if you can steal me a cocktail menu, old buddy old pal. Not that I'd condone stealing of course, but you know you want to.

Oh man, now I need a drink.

The folding bus ticket club

Thanks to Andy for bringing this one to my attention today.

When you get on the bus and you get a ticket, do you ever find yourself subconsciously folding up the ticket? It doesn't matter if it's into shapes, planes, parrots or just squares within squares, most people seem to do it. If you do (and I've only found one person who doesn't) then congratulations, you've just been conscripted into the Folding bus ticket club. You haven't got a choice in the matter.

Why do we do this? The folding I mean, not the club. Is it a way to keep the mind occupied under extreme boredom? If so then does that mean that the people who don't fold have less or too much to think about? Is it a deep creative urge that has found one of the most obscure ways of channelling itself into the world? I think it's a bit of everything. But in that case, can we figure out what's going on in the subsconcious mind by the shapes we create? Keep an eye out and let us know if you figure this out.

Poker game to house party

Well what started out as planning a little poker game has exploded into what can only be described as a house warming festival, a cornicopia of frivolity.....although admittedly I don't know what the word cornicopia means, I just wanted to use it in a sentence.

The way things are going it looks like I'll only have four hours to move my stuff in before it all kicks off.....although going on previous experience *cough* my birthday *cough* you never know what might happen.

Oh well, it's Outhere Brothers and Scatman John 'til the wee hours and I'm at work the next day. Maybe this will be the golden opportunity to get Johnson to scat.

Voodoo update

I really hope there is nothing to this Voodoo thing, not just because of the whole zombie business, but considering my doll is in a lump of shapless gunk filled with hair, I can't begin to imagine what that would have done to me.

4 days and counting

Crap crap crap, last Tuesday at home. The stress hidden behind each grunt and whisper is bad enough, but waking up 3 hours later than I'd planned didn't help. Nor did the £15 taxi fare to work.

Guess I'm going to have to buy a TV too. Well, atleast my mum just came in with a load of shopping for us, which is nice. One less stress.

Don't worry Allan, it'll be fine. Maybe you can set up a brothel or somthing.

Yeah, maybe I can.

It's already filled with whores.

True, I wonder what a male madame is?

A Pimp?

Don't be stupid.

......that reminds me, I love it when people talk in the third person. Warthog would do it all the time if it wasn't so forced. There's something so evil genius about it. You can imagine a guy sitting there stroking a white cat saying "Dr Diablo doesn't believe you Mr Franzek, Dr Diablo thinks you should die. Die Mr Franzek die!" That sort of thing.

Mind numbing and song killing

You know that feeling when you were going to say something really important or significant, and then it slipped your mind? I've got that now. It's like when your just about to have a huge satisfying sneeze and then someone stops you. Then you've got that constant feeling that release is just outside your grasp. Damn you short term memory!!!

Come to think about it, this revelation could be that I won a karaoke machine today. I know I know, I can only sing in the shower, and that's if there's no one within earshot and the accustics are good. So what use is it to me? Well I've thought about this and I'll tell you. It's a beacon, a shining reminder that people cared enough to vote for me in the first place, and to those who did, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, truly I do. It means a lot.

And to those who didn't vote for me, don't worry about it, I didn't vote for you either.

Silent Bob rules

One of my favourite films of all time is Mallrats. One morning around 3am I had nothing to do so I was flicking through the 5 TV channels we had, when I came across this amazing film filled with such great questions like "Does the Fantastic Fours Thing have a giant orange schlong?", "How can you make a film showing Ben Affleck doing the back door boogie with a minor and not tarnish his career?", "Aren't Jay and Silent Bob the greatest characters ever?". Okay so that last one was rhetorical, but hey, it's still technically a question. In fact I thought they were such great characters that I started going on to message boards under the name Silent Bob (that's one of my Signatures pictured). Of course, when I got addicted to message boards the name didn't quite fit so that had to go, but hey, that's progress.

Grunts and moans

I've noticed that in times of stress I'll make involuntary noises. When I'm angry I'll grunt, as mentioned way back in my first post. When it's some sort of emotional gubbins I'll make some sort of sound I can't really describe well. It's kinda like a disappointed, higher pitched sigh. And when I'm just plain stressed out it's the old disgruntled exhilation of air.

The problem I have here is that I don't usually know I'm stressed about something until I make one of these noises. Well, atleast my bodies giving me the heads up about whats going on.



The thing that worries me?? I've started making all three noises

Shout outs

Just so he doesn't slip some rohipnol into my drinks, here's a big up to Husky. Keep trying to get yourself raped and it'll happen eventually, we have faith in you.

My bad dancing and toilet talk

Went out last night and had a really good time. I even got to the point where I was drunk enough to dance, which is rare nowadays. I could have been much drunker, but hey, at least I wasn't dancing by myself for once, which was nice....man I'm such a bad dancer it's unbelievable. It's like someones encased my feet in concrete and held my parents hostage incase I think about moving one foot off the floor. But this, like all things will change, or my names not J R Hartley.

Okay, I haven't chased around town looking for a book on fly fishing written by myself but I will try and work on it. It does seem easier with someone else though. Does that make me sound desperate? It wasn't meant to, so you might want to forget about that one.

My bad dancing aside, things got a little weird. When we left the main group, we went to a gay bar (not my choice before you get any ideas. I'm all about the ladies). Anyway, there's two things that I want to bring up here.

The first thing was the toilets. I don't know if it was cramped on purpose, maybe to get people in the mood, but it was far too close for me. I couldn't piss until the room was almost empty, and the fact that I was hanging around in the gay bar toilets longer than I wanted too made it take that much longer. You just can't win sometimes. By the by, I was expecting the deco to be a bit fancier really, you know how guys toilets are always stinking of shit and the ladies is rumoured to be smelling of roses or something. Sometimes life surprises you.

The second thing happened when we got into the bar itself. Now I've been into these places before (again, not by choice) and I think it's easier if you've got some women with you too. Unfortunately this time it was all guys. So, this guy comes up to me and starts chatting away (at this point I feel myself cringing away a little, fearing where the conversation may go). It turns out that he was friends with one of the guys we went to the bar with, he is also one of the many people who believe Mumbles is the boyfriend of a certain guy we all know in the office. Mumbles would like me to let you all know that there is nothing between them and that the rumours are totally unfounded, totally. After I laughed my tits off (on the inside of course, I didn't want to be rude and contradict the guy, that just wouldn't be as funny now would it) we got to talking about our repective jobs. Suddenly he pointed and told me "By the way, that guy with the bald head has a massive cock!". Of course I nodded politely and got out of that conversation as quickly as possible. Nice of him to let me know though. That sort of thing never happens in straight bars.

Deposits down and good times up

We went to see the flat again yesterday and it did look better once the previous tenants had moved their stuff out. There were a few things that bugged us, like the appauling bathroom and the state of the oven door, but we don't move in 'til next saturday so there's plenty of time for him to sort stuff out. It'll be fine....it better be.

We also got around to picking who gets the big room (damn you random technique!!!!). On the way out we met the new new neighbour (bye bye stoned croation crackhoe and hello stoned white ginger dreadlocked student type bloke).

Shit man, I've put a frickin deposit on a flat!!!! I'll never get used to that.

Remind me to take some pictures to show you when we move in to our flat.....God that sounds weird.

3rd week of kicking other blogs asses

Happy 3rd bloggerversary. Three weeks have past and this is the 60th post. Don't worry though I've got a list of stuff to talk about that will last me a good long while yet.

As is traditional in these instances, I've prepared a quote. This comes from the mighty Moe from the Simpsons:

"I've done stuff I ain't proud of in life....and the stuff I am proud of is disgusting!"

The ultimate necrophile...or is it?

There has been one question that I came up with that's bugged me for the past 5 or 6 years, and I was wondering if you could help.

If a dog had sex with a dead person, would it be rape, beastiality, necrophilia, or just plain sex?

You can't stop picturing it can you? I bet your thinking of a small, scruffy dog too. I know I am.

Touched up and rubbed a bit

Just time for a quicky or two today since I'm wrecked and we're having a second viewing of the flat tomorrow.

The massage at work was nice, although the fact that the CD of soothing music ran out half way through did spoil the atmosphere just a tad. Being molested by strangers isn't half bad....and I'm no stranger to that sort of thing. One day I was standing in line to buy a ticket at the cinema when I feel someone hug me from behind and rest their head on me. I slowly turned around to see some guy I've never met before standing there with his mates. Obviously I was a little surprised by this and, much like a fox or Tyrannosaurus Rex, I stood deathly still until he stopped what he was doing. Obviously afterwards I checked to see if he had pissed in my pockets....and the answer was no incase you are curious.

I guess everyone needs to get a bit of human contact from somewhere....the phsycho's.