How do you want to die?

That's not a threat, just a question. Unless....well lets not go there.

It's something I've been thinking about on and off. The worst possible way I can imagine dying is being burnt alive. That would suck big time. Even if your nerves did eventually die off, you'd be able to watch yourself crisp and fry. The smell of burning hair is bad enough, imagine the whole body.....unless it smells a bit like a BBQ. Then I might have to reconsider.

Of course now all my enemies know my kryptonite and I'll have to keep an eye out for naked flames. I'm on to you.

I want to die in a way that may scar someone (either physically or emotionally) for life. Something horrific and quick. Like jumping off an overpass into a truck with exploding spikes on the front. You know, something natural. So far that's the one I like the sound of the most. If I think of any better ones I'll let you know....or you'll read about it in the papers...or be there and get covered in my intestinal tract. Whichever comes first.

Another pointless day

Well that didn't work. Not only had I had my worst day in any job ever (although I've had a close second when I worked at a college, thinking it was the last week I had to be there only to find out I had another two to go. Gutter), but the sleep wasn't that forthcoming. What with Mumbles, Spicy etc waking me up four sodding times because they were playing truth or fucking dare. I get pissed off if you wake me up at 4am. I get even more pissed off if you wake me up at 4am and take a picture of me. I get even more pissed off that that if you repeat the process and escape before I can cave your head in with your fucking camera.

It was this mindset that I went into work with the next day. This was not good. Especially since I was still as angry as when I'd left the previous day. As much as I've tried to get an actual reason, there are none given. It's the way in which I'm being told it that's making me the most suspicious. I get a sense of I'm only talking to you 'cos I've been ordered to and the reason I'm giving the "random shuffle" story is because it's the script I've been given. Something stinks and I don't think I'm just being paranoid like normal, or even reading too much into something. There's something lurking in the shadows and I just need to find a torch to shed some light on it.

That all being said, I guess I've got no other choice but to fizzle out into obscurity and eventually be forgotten about. They're giving big sodding hints that they don't want me there, but why the hell should I give in now? I can't stand losing moralistic battles. If they want to beat me down so I quit then they better bring a baseball bat and a shovel.

At the moment though, I feel like the new kid in the first Mighty ducks film. You know, the one that gets forced to move into that team and he really only wants to go back where he was. Sod team work.

On a slightly different note. What is it with people pussying out when it comes to me making drinking game rules? First time we played I made one that forbid everyone from looking at a specific wall. Apparently that's a stupid rule. When I made the rule last night that if a boyband came onto the TV and you didn't turn it over in ten seconds then you had to push me under a moving vehicle. I can't believe they wussed out of that one too. Jeez.

Half way through the day I started dancing in my chair for no reason. A bit of hip hop in there while I'm on a call. No idea what song I had in my head. This, as I've come to know, is the first sign that I'm going into some heavy mental breakdown. My usual outlet (getting people to beat the snot out of me) doesn't seem to appeal recently. I really want to hit other people though. In the face. Any volunteers, you know where I am.

I know I keep chopping and changing here, but that's what my head's doing anyway. What was I going to say again? Oh yeah. The way I see it. I've been trying, hard as I might, to climb the ladder of success at work. As soon as I see a little progress I can see people pouring grease down the rungs. This didn't stop me. It has now gotten to the point where they just sawed the bottom of the ladder off and said "There you go you stubborn bastard. See if you can get up there now." After 9 months of climbing to end up back down the bottom, is there any point in trying any more? For God's sake, I could have had a baby in that time. True, I'd have to grow a womb and whatnot, but at least attempting to do that would have gotten me further than where I am now. Not that you could bring up a child in this flat. Too much drunken debauchary. That and the hygeine.

For fuck's sake

Now you know me. I'm restrained to the point of being repressed. But what the fuck? I can kinda understand the whole not getting a promotion thing. Kinda. I guess my face doesn't fit or some bollocks like that. By the by, I got my rejection letter for that team coach thing. Nice of them to let me know, sure. But it's still a pile of burnt ash on my back step.

However, what I'm not able to comprehend is the fact that I've been effectively demoted. No reason given. No excuse other than I'm being shuffled to another team. Nothing. If they just came out with a reason that would be fine. I'd be able to argue my case. Even if it was my fault I'd be able to argue my fucking case. But how can you argue with "random" shuffling? I'm fucked and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm on the phone, in a team with people I don't really know and that's the end of that. I'm fucked.

Once I found out I went on my lunch and eventually took a walk, just to test myself. If I'd turned right I would go home and never come back. If I turned left I'd resign myself to my fate. Why the hell did I turn left? I guess I've got responsibilities and bollocks like that, but still. What the hell am I doing? I should just quit and find another dead end job to waste my life in. It's obvious they want me out. But then they'd win I guess. You really don't want to know the things I've been contemplating today.

If only the drink had helped.

Maybe sleep will help. But then again, that'll just make tomorrow come quicker and I really don't want to be there. Maybe if all the people there were a bunch of cunts then I'd be happy about leaving. But unfortunately I've got some really good friends there and I don't think I can leave. Fuck man. What else can I do?

For fuck's sake.

200th POST!!!

Whoop there it is. The two hundredth post. That's right, 200. I was going to work out the binary representation of 200 aswell for effect, but it's 2am and I can't be chewed. Anyway, that's a hell of a lot of writing. Thanks to all those that have read through it, even if it was just a little. I feel like I should have something monumental and inspirational to say.....hmmm, let me think.

Well there's this great little quote from one of my favourite films, Mallrats:

"Cat Admiring Bitter Customer: Cute cat. What's his name?
Randal Graves: Annoying customer.
Cat Admiring Bitter Customer: [grabs pack of cigarettes] Fuckin' dickhead. "

But that doesn't seem to quite cut it. Okay, here's something I came up with a few years ago:

The past is unchangeable
The future inevitable
Today is yours. Do with it as you wish.

Our second flat party aftermath

Well, Friday was Spicy's birthday party, and what a party it was. Sure two people showed up in the first hour and a half, but after that it picked up. I started a loving addiction with vodka jellies...one I hope to continue and exploit in the future....mmmmm. I hope for the next party (most likely the Halloween party) to have alcoholic ice cream. This may or my not be humanly possible, but what a combination. Alcoholic jelly and ice cream.

I'm not going to go into everything that went down, especially the stuff I wasn't there for. What sort of biased view could I have unless I saw it? Exaclty. And yes I did mean biased. You can't have an opinion without being biased one way or the other...or can you? Well obviously I'm biased as to whether you can or not.

Either way, here's what I witnessed/remember. I decided that instead of getting people to hit me when I was drunk, I'd hit them instead. Of course I picked my targets carefully. The target of course being the Monk. He didn't seem to mind either, which was nice. After a few test shots I went for the old "Rub your hands together like a mad man then slap the crap out of him" technique. It worked. In fact it was the greatest slap of all time. After the mighty echoing clap, his glasses span all the way round his head, did another 180 degrees and flew off. I keep having flashbacks. I'm so proud. Added to that the fact that I didn't have to wake up in pain or any more bruised than I already was is a bonus. I'm quite proud of my self restraint on that one.

I must note at this time that Krizzle does an excellent impression of the Monk. We have the photos to prove it.

Mumbles talked me into drinking Uzo again. I hate I hate I hate Uzo. I'd rather shove an uzi down my neck. Every time I have it I need to hit something to take my mind off that godawful taste. This time I punched a couple of walls six times and did a Bruce Lee stomp in the middle of the kitchen. I'm guessing the neighbours didn't like that one, but they were invited to myeh.

Somehow we managed to get into a hugging competition. I felt it necessary to test each hug after the judge tested them, and I have to agree with her decisions (and not just because I won, get in there). Gohan's hugs are a bit too like bear hugs. The French DJ's hug was unusual as he has smaller than expected arms. Not that that's a bad thing. In the end though my one armed technique is nigh on unbeatable lol. My God, that's the first time I've used that expression on here I'm sure. And I'd tried so hard not to.

Later we broke the sacred rules of the drunk and talked, indepth, about religion. If you'd ever wondered about the theory of immortaltiy through the concept of your life having ripple effects on others, then you should have been there. Sure I had to use the analogy of a couple elloping to the woods, having a baby that no one knew about and then all three of them dying to prove that it was possible to stop such ripples before they begin, but it's what had to be done. Yeah, I went there.

As people began to go to sleep, I noticed that Krizzle and the Golddigger both went to sleep in exactly the same positions as they had for our housewarming. Freaky. Funny but freaky.

As I went to bed I was lulled by the constant sound of stamping and the "C" word that dare not speak it's name repeated constantly. It may have been this, or the copious amounts of booze and jelly that caused me to hallucinate as I drifted off into a slumber. As my eyes closed I saw a crowd of people cheering and clamoring towards me. As I began to realise I was hallucinating, the crowd grew less and less interested to the point where they just stood there staring at me. Strangely enough I did get some sleep that night.

The next morning I was rudely awoken by my phone. I was work trying to get me to go in and do some overtime. No chance in the state I had been in. I went to sleep seeing crowds of people in my room. I shouldn't have been put in charge of a phone. I declined their offer.

When I got up for real, I'm sure I was still drunk. My first clue was that I was daring to walk around the flat in my bare feet. The second was when I picked a fight with a fly. His name wwas Geoffrey (for no other reason that he looked like he was called Geoffrey). After cursing him for mocking us with his ability to fly and reach our high ceilings (plus the obligatory fist shaking), I saw the blighter land on the wall beside me. Quick as a drunken flash I struck. Geoffrey, his lower body completely crushed, stuttered then fell. I jumped up in victorious glory, aware of the mocking eyes that had fallen upon me. This however did not sully my mood, for I had vanquished my foe....or so I'd thought. Five minutes later it was pointed out to me that he was still alive. I decided that the only humain and entertaining thing to do would be to smother him. This too failed. As this fly appeared to be immortal, and with the debate of the previous night fresh in my mind, I took further action and glassed his ass with a bottle. Again I shouted my victory cry. And it was good.

It only took us an hour to clean up too. I know I keep mentioning this to people, but bloody hell. It took a gang of us days to get the place completely sorted last time. This time it was just me and Mumbles.

So. Not taking some other stuff into consideration, it was a pretty good party. Thanks to everyone who made it possible. And thanks to those who played me at Halo and Far cry the next morning, who made me feel so much better by losing so badly :)

Promotion attempt #2

By you've all been a bit quiet recently. But then again, so have I. Quiet and drunk.

I'm sure I had a point to this.....not sure what it was but it was there. Ho hum. Anyway, lets recap on the past week. The position of team coach/manager was advertised at work, so I went for it. I didn't realise anyone else knew about it until the deadline. Damn them for being as sly as me :P Not sure what my chances are. I mean the PS's seem to be going for it, and everyone else that seems to be seen in a more favourable light than I do. But, you never know. I was confident last time and I didn't get it. Now that I have no confidence the same technique might work.......in hell maybe.

The landlord brought us a brand spanking new oven this week too. All you people that didn't have faith in my one measly letter can start begging my forgiveness anytime soon. I wasn't here when they brought it but I don't think there are any new hobs there though. It hasn't been fitted yet, but it's a start. I hope he's working on the rest of the problems. And the fact that he doesn't think he received my rent is slightly worrying, but I'm sure it went out.

As for James' party....more to come on that one.

Inward conversation #1

Look, stop it. Stop getting distracted by the internet when you're supposed to be writing your CV. Stop it now. Warthog you ratfink, do as you're told.

Why the hell do we have to have "always on" internet access? DAMN YOU TELEWEST!

It's not Telewest's fault. It's ours. Just unplug it from the wall.

No, are you made? If I do that then everyone loses their connection. You know what geeks are like when they lose access to the internet. Bloodbath. Cold painful bloodbath.

Just....just shut up. Just stop trying to figure out the world and it's little intricicies and get the damn CV out of the way. It's 1:19am and you have work in the morning.

But I don't want to go to work.

Well you're going and that's it. Especially since you seem to be the only one bringing in any money these days. Look, I'll break your fingers if you don't stop this nonsense and get back to work.

Yesum.

Dagnamin weird dang head

I've been in a weird mood for the good part of a week now...not that it was indeed a particularly good part. Poor phrasial choice methinks. Man I haven't made a word like that up in ages. It just feels....weird. Like there's something bugging me but I've no idea what it is. Like something plaguing my subconscious, but it's not ready to tell me yet. Today was the first day since Saturday that I've fancied a drink.

Having to re-write my CV yet again hasn't helped things. God I hate this. CV's should be banned from time and space. They can go to hell, and anyone that likes them can join them. AAARRRGGGHHHHHHH CV BASTARDS!!!!!!!!!!

What a headache.


P.S. The landlord dropped by today and gave us a brand spanking new cooker. I complained around a month ago, so that ain't too shabby. We'll be able to eat properly and everything.


P.P.S. Remember, party at our place tomorrow/today/Friday. Bring your own drink.

Boring Sunday afternoon

On Sunday I was very bored. So bored in fact that I began to daydream. This does not help the whole working/staying awake ratio. Damn this overactive imagination.

Anyway, after leading the team in rendition of The fresh Prince of Bel Air theme tune, I made the audacious claim that I was the Peter Pan of shadows.

I have no idea what that means (although I'm guessing it means that if I were a shadow, then I'd be jumping about like an idiot while the person projecting the shadow stood still).

As I said. I was very bored.

Dance rape

On Sunday, somehow, the concept of Dance rape was created. Not through the physical act of it mind you, but the principle.

Dance rape is when your forced to dance, and have willingness to do so. It mainly happens at family parties in social clubs, with aunties/uncles that have an undying urge to dance with relatives. Dirty dancing is ironically not a common occurance.

Much like actual rape, the use of rohypnol may make the experience easier to handle, although I'm not sure how easy it is to stand when on that stuff. Not that I'm recommending either.

Murdering sequentially

Why is it, everytime I change my image I'm told that my previous image made me look like a serial killer? When I got my name badge at work and then cut my hair everyone commented on how I looked like a member of the Manson family. Upon reflection I see their point, but why didn't anyone tell me this at the time? It's most likely because I looked like a serial killer, and no one wants to mess with them. I also do an okay psychotic stare, which always helps.

On Saturday I tried on Spicy's flatcap. It felt unusually good.....most likely because Mumbles informed me that it scared him because, once again, I looked like a serial killer. At least I was told during this time.

....I wonder if I look like a serial killer now and a few months down the line people will tell me so? I do smile maniacilly evil sometimes. But that's usually when I'm walking to work.

I have no idea why.

It's a jail break?

An interesting point came up whilst we were debating whatever the hell we were talking about the other day. Can you have a jail break in anywhere that isn't a jail? I believe you can.

Technically a jail and a prison are two seperate things as far as I can see. The main difference being size as far as I can tell. But that is merely a trivial technicality. What concerns me is this:

If you liberate all of the animals in a cat and dog shelter, then is that a jail break? They're living creatures imprisoned against their will in cages. They're fed daily and are given regulated exercise. I've never worked there (or indeed been an inmate...can you call them inmates. It's not as if they can object, but it's nice to know what they're comfortable with), but I suspect they also carry shivs and rape each other in the showers. What more do you want?

Spin winner

Why is it that turning your arms (whilst bent at the elbow so that they double back on each other) in an anticlockwise motion speeds you up while walking? I've tried spinning them clockwise but that just slows you down. What's going on?

PARTY AT OURS!!!

This here, the thing you hold in your hands (should you be carrying your monitor for some reason) is an invite to the flat in celebration of Spicy's birthday. This Friday (22nd September 2006) at around 7pm. Bring booze.

Of course, if we don't like you then consider yourself uninvited.

I knew we should have made party invitations.

A blur of a weekend

I know these should be seperate blogs, but the days have kinda blurred together recently. Drink will do that I guess. Where to begin?

Well, we celebrated Spicy's birthday in style. An all you can eat Chinese buffet (don't have the lemon chicken at Lau's, it's like some god awful jelly. Spitting food out in the middle of a restaurant and making someone almost wet themselves laughing isn't a great way to keep a low profile) then off to the pub for some pool. And drink. Then repeat.

It was at this stage when things began to blur round the edges. Not that I think I've forgotten any of it, I'm just surprised it was me. Almost starting a fight was a novel thing to do. He was a complete prick, and, well people didn't help things. Lets just put it this way, I handed the pool queue and really wished he'd smacked me round the head with it so I could pummel the crap out of him. I guess I can get a bit wound up at times.....but I still want to kill the guy.

Once I got home, I decided to have a drunken shave. This is a very bad idea. Patchy as hell and twice as bloody. It passed the time though I guess. After I'd finished I caught myself dancing in the living room....this was not a good sign. If you ever see me dance, then I've more than likely had far too much to drink already. That realisation swept over me like a tsunami, but unfortunately it didn't stop me. Damn you Gorillaz with the song dare!

After that we went to the Elven warrior's and She who shall not be named's house warming party. Baring in mind my mental state at this time, another party wasn't probably the best of ideas, but I had a great time. I got a little more drunk, but for once I managed to stop drinking. That's quite a feet for me. Usually because as soon as I stop I begin to sober up quite quickly. This however wasn't the case, and indeed I may have gotten more drunk. There was one moment where I had to stand on the doorstep and get some air to avoid blowing chunks of Chinese food all over the new flat.

My memory of the night only comes to me in flashes, which is quite rare. I remember to talking to people, but I remember very few of the conversations. I sat there for some time making different variations of the sound "mye". The Warthog talked in the third person alot. The Warthog enjoyed it. I remember people looking like they were trying to not look like they were avoiding this drunken idiot sat here. As I predicted, I also danced. Oh deary me. In front of people too. Who knew I could waltz? Little tip. Never try to spin a drunk, it ends in trouble. I almost dropped my dance partner mid-spin too....I think.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it) the beatings have started again. As we've discussed, they seem to be brought about to replace mental ponderings with intense concentration regarding pain. Not that there was anything on my mind. But my subconscious is a tricky little bugger and you never know what he's up to.

It may have gone a little far. Indeed, it went further than ever before. We started small. A queue of people formed to sit on my knee and slap me into next week. If only it wasn't just blokes sitting on my knee. I wonder why slapping doesn't hurt? It's not as if they're holding back. You'd be able to tell.

Next, things got a little weird. Krizzle obliged me with a good few punches in the arm (there's one nice bruise I got out of it). Now I'm not sure how we got around to it, but I managed to convince another guy to punch me in the chest. Full belt. Ow. He almost knocked me through the fence a few feet behind me. Needless to say I had to have a bit of a sit after that one, and to my recollection, I don't think I stood up for a good few hours. This was Friday, and it's only now just stopped hurting to breath/talk/think. It's interesting really. Trying to figure this all out, the interest in different kinds of pain. Oooh, I've just remembered, I got someone to chinese burn me....although that might have been before the housewarming.

Eventually I left as I had work the next morning. When I got back (and narrowly avoided accidently kicking people in the head by jumping over them), I stood there and stared at the mirror. I really had to resist putting my head through it. Luckily I was tired and went quickly to bed.

The next day I got up, still drunk and went to work. This is when the flashbacks started. It felt like I had lost my short term memory. I had a sudden sense of unfinished business, but no idea to what it was regarding. I still don't.

When I started talking to people who had been at the housewarming they began to trigger more flashbacks. Accepting the shirt off The French DJ's back. Arguemtents with people I've never met about the fact that I've never met them. People bigging up the Thundercats T-shirt I was wearing. Punching walls. Spilling drink on myself. Slurring badly. Mumbles spilling the contents of a glow stick all over himself. The worrying thing is that there are still surprises in store within my head. It's Monday now and I'm still finding out new things that had happened.

Then after work we went to a birthday party. The drinking and violence continued. It was good to see the Monk after so long. After a while we made a deal and if I went clubbing then we would have a game of slaps. Only with me using my face instead of hands. It seems that I was at a tactical disadvantage and lost.

It didn't stop there though. The slapping got harder and harder. It turned to punching and then rabbit punches in an endless stream of abuse. Which was nice. My jaw kinda stings now and for some reason my nose hurts. I don't think I was hit in the nose.

Well that's you up to date on my day to days. I think I better stay off the drink for a little while. Just while my injuries heal at least hehe.

Blogless recently

Sorry for the delay there. I've been drunk and busy recently. Gutting thing is, I've lost the temporary text I've been storing with all my blog ideas. I think I've remembered most of it, but with that level of randomness you never know. I'll get cracking soon.

Virtual dance off

Hey guys. I've been a bit too absorbed by Guild wars. It's too good a game. I was up til 5am this morning for christ's sake. But, it's worth it. This first picture is of my pet cat that I mentioned before. He's a bit angry.

The next pictures have a story behind them. Well. We found out that each class of character has a different dance they can perform. The female necromancer does the Thriller dance. The second picture in this post was taken after we decided to have a fully coordinated dance in the middle of town. This kept me most amused for some time. However, we needed to pop to the shops so we left the PC's running. When we came back 10 minutes later, well just take a look at the last picture. It was a full blown party. Haha, I couldn't stop laughing for ages.

Guild wars kitty

Today Mumbles, Sofa and myself began an epic journey into the magical game world of Guild Wars. For those that don't know, it's one of those geeky online multiplayer games where you wander around killing orcs and various other angry creatures. I've decided to adopt an enormous wild cat within the game to hang around and generally bum stuff off me. His name is Bertram Fiddlesticks. I'm not sure if he know's it yet, but he is.

So far the games damn good....to the point where I really don't want to sit here doing my CV or even go to bed. Damn you addictive personality!!!

CV oh how I hate thee

It's a good job I was so happy before, because I really can't stand re-writing my CV. It's so mindnumbingly tedious. It drives me crazy. Trying to think of new and unique ways to say how great you are. One of these days I'm just going to have to write "I'm mint" on an A3 bit of paper and send it in. See what happens.

Not that I'm leaving the job I have now, before you get any ideas.

But you see what this has done to me? It's sucked out all of that illogical happy and replaced it with melancholy suicidism. Roll on 5pm tomorrow.

Cheshire catting

This is getting a bit weird now. I've been unusually happy (and in proven cases scarily happy it seems) all day and that's not normal. Well it may be normal for other people, but not me. Not that I mind. If there was a reason then that would be that, but no. No reason whatsoever. Well I guess we'll see what tomorrow brings and we'll see if it lasts.

Can't think of a title

I really wish I had something to say, but I'm all out at the minute. That's what a long hard day at work and "a few" drinks will do to you. I wonder if I'm walking straight?

Did I tell you that I've started smiling for no reason? That's nice. Bizarre and confusing, but nice. It makes the world that little bit cheerier.....I wonder if that's a word? Hmmm, the spell checker doesn't pick it up.

Sleep it off and start again, that's what I'll do. Sleep is the greatest healer (especially since studies prove that when you sleep your cells begin to regenerate at a greater rate than when you're concsious. Damn skippy that's true).

Pondering about pondering

What is it? To ponder that is. As far as I see it, and it's something I've pondered extensively, it's lazy thinking. To think about something, but not in depth. It's like standing in the middle of a football field, but not joining in the game. To loosely cover the basics and skip the difficult bits. Pondering, whilst fun and easy, is no excuse for ignoring deep and complex thought. True, most subjects only require a quick ponder, but.....okay I've completely forgotten the point I was going to make, if indeed there ever was one. I guess I should have pondered this one more thoroughly.

Manly insecurities

Is there any manly way to carry flowers? It doesn't seem possible. Put them over your shoulder and you look like you're trying too hard. Down by your side and you don't look like you're trying hard enough to hide that image.

I've got a feeling you could be Rambo, sitting on top of a tank, slitting the throats of Nazi's, but if you've got some flowers in your hand they'll still laugh at you while they slowly die in front of you.

And does the amount and size of the flowers help or hinder you? In theory there's little difference between carrying one and a bunch, however, if you're carrying a huge bouquet then the image is even further demanlified. If you're struggling with flowers then you just look desperate surely. Large flowers also fall into this equation with similar results.

Is this the same with plants? Not necessarily. Is it the sheer amount of green, the severe lack of diverse colour? Maybe. Of course, if you're walking through the streets with a giant carniverous tropical plant that can capture and dissolve rats (and I'm not making this up) then no one's going to mess with you.

Mental seesaw

Well, besides losing any sense of normality, things are returning to a semblance of what they were. I'm obviously coming up with the most random thoughts I can without having to strain for ideas once more. I've missed that. You get a bit confused when you stop thinking like yourself. Atleast I did. As I've always said, you are what you think. If you change that then you change who you are.

Now that I'm thinking like me again I'm much happier. It felt like forever since I'd properly smiled. Something I'm sure I did when we first moved in. Being able to relax and enjoy myself is a godsend (I wonder if that's one word or two?).

By the by, as discussed a week or two ago, it definately helps the whole blogging thing to get out and about. I don't think one post I've had this week was inspired by being in the flat.

The nature of time

Time. Is it a line, a tree, a tool or simply a form of measurement?

There are several theories out there. Some believe that time can be represented by a straight line. This indicates that there is no uncertainty in the grand scheme of things. Things will happen as they are destined to. Whatever you choose to do with your life, ultimately you have no control. Whichever choice you make, it isn't yours, for you have been destined to make that choice. Of course this theory gives people little comfort. Being in control of your own life is sometimes all we have to cling to.

The tree theory is slightly more involved. Take the line example. Then, with every choice, create a branch shooting off in another direction. This creates an alternate reality in which those alternate decisions are carried out. Of course it doesn't stop there. All choices made on the original line and from the branches will branch off once more, and again, and again, until all possibilities become a reality. I don't think it applies to the big decisions, but to everything that ever happens. From being able to hold a sneeze in to a fly choosing to turn left or right. With this theory we have such a severe freedom to choose that it could be overwhelming. I mean, everyone likes a little bit of control in their lives. Something to keep them rooted in the hear and now. This theory also spits on religion in a way. It indicates that there is no divine plan. No unseen force guiding our actions (unlike the line theory).

There are doubtless other theories out there, but of the ones I've pondered these seem the most logical within this type of arena. Lets also ponder the theory of time travel and it's plausability.

When applying time travel to the line theory it should be easy to plot where we need to go. Of course the method of getting where we desire is another matter completely. Magic, speeding delorians or phone boxes, it makes little difference. But what would happen if you could? Surely you would mess with time. Going back would change the nature of that period of time, for you were not originally there....unless you were.

Let me explain. If you think of time travel as moving from A to B, then you are going to be somewhere where you weren't before. This will change the nature of B and either erase everything after that time, or create an offshoot branch.

If you think of time travel in another way, it could be slightly less intrusive. Imagine that you (the current you, not a past you) are standing there during the creation of the great wall of China. Atilla the Hun running around, beating the hell out of everyone he comes across. Then imagine being in the near future. Time travel has been invented and whenever you go back somewhere, you've already been there. Time had already thought ahead, and since it's only a straight line, it put you at the great wall ahead of time to represent you in the future going back to then. Well it makes sense in my head. I like to call this method of time travel (one of my own design) "Pre-enactment". I'd like to have the word put in the dictionary if possible.

If we apply time travel to the branching theory, then we open up a whole other kettle of fish. As nothing seems to be predetermined (unless all these branches were in fact meant to be there, but lets not get into that one), then plotting your course must be a nightmare. Not only to find the right branch, but finding your way back too. This theory allows you to freely add extra branches due to your arrival, so I wouldn't see any other problems there.

And what about fortune telling? Can people really see into alternate branches, branches that may be, or just along the line of time? As with everything, until it's proven to me then I can't believe it. What do the stars have to do with reading what may be? Is it a heavenly body thing? No idea.

For me, time is simply a measurement. A way of telling when we've spun in a circle and gone round the sun yet again. Time is a measurement used to judge how we as a world decay and rot. The nature of time is to destroy.

Metal mentallity

I have an overwhelming urge to take up metalwork. I really really want to create my own suit of armour. Not a full suit of course. Don't be silly. No, just one arm will do. A massive, anime inspired masterpiece. A huge shoulderpad (rounded, yet spiked at the tip), thin upper arm, a moderately sized elbow joint, a thin forearm, and then we get to the hand. The hand would be a long, clawed, viscous looking piece of powerful architecture.

If only there was a blacksmith's nearby.

Street light nights

Yesterday I found myself captivated by the thought of fluorescent orange street lights. Why that colour? It's not a natural shade of light. I understand that it makes sense to have a form of light that's darker than sunlight at night, but still. You spend too much time in that colour and your eyesight begins to play tricks on you. Things seems slightly surreal.

Personally I've never liked them. I used to have one outside my bedroom window and some nights it drove me spare. Lying there in eternal orange. Bathed in the eerie glow of incomprehensible colour choices.

Although, I guess it could have been worse. It could have been green.

Singing to smurfs

Crap crap crap. This isn't good. Yesterday I was on the phones, but lucky for me it was only a half day. The worst thing about that day? I caught myself singing to a customer while I was waiting for their account details to load. "Golddigger" is not a great song to sing to angry customers....fortunately I don't think he quite heard me...or atleast he didn't react.

This isn't good. Not good at all.

When I start singing to smurfs, then I'll know when to commit myself.

Projection dream

I had a most bizarre dream last night. For a string of mornings a girl I've never met (although it could have been Sharron from Eastenders) left a message on my bedroom wall (my bedroom in my parents home, just for the curious). This was no mundane message in either content nor delivery. Somehow she had managed to use my glasses as a projector. They were set up in such a way that when daybreak eventually broke each day, the suns rays would penetrate the glass and project the message onto the wall in front of me. What was even cleverer was the fact that the message was split between the two lenses, where each letter was represented in part on each bit of glass.

Each morning I awoke to read a sweet and heartwarming message. However, in dreams as in life, things are never easy. One day I slept in. Severally slept in. I awoke at 6:37pm to see the last flickers of light dissipate along with the messgae. I jumped to the foot of my bed to try and decipher the dying message..and like most dreams this too faded with time. All I remember being able to read was the final part of the message. It read like a farewell note, one filled with sorrow and regret. The last line read something like

"You had every opportunity, but you missed your chance"



As I picked up the glasses in order to try and read the message I quickly discovered the genius of what she'd done. The glasses were so expertly positioned that they could only project the message at a certain angle from a certain position. One that was nigh on impossible to reproduce, thus causing me to lose the message eternally.


.....damn that's sad. But quite why the note ended with the picture of a teddy bear is beyond me.

Not the greatest feeling to start a day with.

Homemade quoting

One last post for the night I think (especially since I have to get up for work tomorrow). I'll leave you with a phrase of my own creation.

"Life is a game, and we all end up losing eventually"

Cheers

Did I ever get round to thanking the people who covered all my crap at work when I was off? Don't think I did so I'll just take this opportunity now to say a big thank you.I wish I didn't have to go back, but now that I have I thank you for the fact that I didn't have to come back to a huge pile of complaints.

Dropping hats

Is it just me? Is it the product of the myth that is popular culture? Is it some other indeterminate factor? Or will Americans get excited at the drop of a hat? If you've ever watched Pimp my ride then you'll know what I'm talking about. In fact anything American seems to portray their ability to become over excited just like that.

In fact I'm going to put it to the test. I shall find an American and drop my hat in front of them. If they do not jump around like a crazed mental patient then I shall throw such a tizzy as is unimaginable.

Making kids films great again

How cool would the Harry Potter films be if they replaced all of the wands with guns? Go ahead, picture it. all that pointing and posturing. I'm going to have to watch one of them now just with that thought in mind. Come on. Admit it. You won't be able to watch one of the films in the same way ever again.

Of course you might have to add some casual swearing in there too, just for the effect.

"Who's that new boy?"

"That's Harry Potter. He's one badass motherfucker!"

No more hunting

It may shock you to discover that The crocodile hunter Steve Irwin is dead. On the other hand, everyone you ever met in your life may have told you already. Every person I saw on that fateful day told me the news. Every single person....yet no one has a video of it....yet.

For a guy who wrestled nature for years, it's ironic that he is killed by a creature that has such a low murder rate it's unbelievable. A stingray's tail through the heart is one crappy way to go, but think of it this way. Don't you reckon that the creatures of the world rest a little easier now? The chances of wildlife generating a heart condition by being persued by a crazy australian are that much lower now. All animals can sigh in unified relief due to the fact that it's that bit less likely that they're going to get picked up by the tail and talked jibberish at.

Not that I'm condoning animal violence towards people you understand. No no no. In fact I think we should take a stand and fight back.

THEY WANT A WAR? WE'LL GIVE THEM A WAR!!!

Hiding the crazy...poorly

Have you ever had one of those days at work when you wish war would break out? Wednesday I found myself praying that one of the local shrubbery would stand up to reveal that it was a guerilla sniper and promptly shoot me in the head. Oooh I was waiting all day for the snipers' sweet release. Even if they decided to take me hostage and make me into a POW, it would mean that I get to spend all day in a trench topped with bamboo instead of answering phones. Even if they made me go on the phones in said trench I could try to persuade the customers to call for help. I win either way really.

To tell the truth I think this whole week has messed with my head. If it's not one thing it's another. An intense sense of paranoia didn't help matters....but then you're not paranoid if they're all against you, as the saying goes. But who's to tell?

Then there was that incident during one of my breaks. I got double beeped. It's practically unheard of, a double beep. By all logic you should get a single beep and that's it. It should be impossible to get a second. But there I was getting two for the price of one. Marvellous.....after reading that I can see how this paragraph may be misconstrued. Let me assure you that it has no rude connotations whatsoever. But a double beep? Wow.

It's a good job I finished at the time I did on Wednesday really. The whole thing had me bouncing up and down in my seat whilst singing "Fire" by Jimmy Hendrix. Great song, but unfortunate situation. Lordy lordy. Whats a half dead chimp of the underworld to do? Roll on the weekend.

Get on board the soul train

The soul. We've all got our theories. But what helps us form these? Religion seems to be a big one here. Does anyone just sit there trying to form their own opinion?

I'm not the biggest fan of religion. If you are then fair play to you, but don't try to force it down my throat. I've had the "Why don't you believe?" discussion plenty of times, and I've always won. If you can't prove something to me then I won't believe you. Simple as that. Show me the afterlife, the devil, a justified miracle that has absolutely no other explanation and you'll have my interest. Until then, you're wasting your time.

If the Buddist principle is correct then every creature should have a soul since we are all different incarnations of ourselves. If the Christian principles are correct then only humans have a soul. But what is it perceived to be? Maybe it's a non-physical store of our personality and ideaology. Maybe it's a blueprint for a new person. Maybe it's everything we are mentally that will represent us in the afterlife. If that's the case then why would we feel pain in hell?

Personally, I'm not convinced. Again it goes back to things having to be proven to me. If I could see it then that would be fine. Of course that would force me to at least reconsider my belief system. If I could feel it then that would also help.

What about ghosts? Are they souls? The dead trapped and tormented on Earth? Again, I've never seen one but my Grandma swears she has. I'm not going to argue with her about it. But, can they be attributed to other things? Being half asleep? Affraid? Paranoid? Eating something that didn't agree with you? Or are you just seeing it because you're expecting it? Until I have a good long chat with one then I have no idea.

So. The soul. A theory to keep you warm at night so that you don't fear death? So that you don't come to the realisation that either tomorrow or in years to come you'll find yourself in a pine box, 6 feet under and unable to move? Or is it something you can only see when you're dead? I'm in no hurry to find out either way.

Big white

I've come to the reasilation that I'm part polar bear. Quite which part besides being left handed is beyond me. But that's my new excuse the next time someone gives me that "You're left handed???????????" look.

Snowman conundrum

Where do snowmens' scarves go when snow melts?

One theory is that they just sit there, cold and alone. Another could be that whoever breathed life into the little frozen representations of life took them back.

Mine however is the theory that if it's warm enough for snow to melt, then who needs a scarf?

That's it. Drawing a line.

What up homes? We need to talk. I've been walking around with this thing in my head for a few days now and I've just got to get it out and be done with it. For some reason I find it a lot easier to think when I type. It's like it's an outlet for my subconscious. I can just sit back and let it write itself. But let's not get too distracted.

What was my cryptic post about? I'll tell you. The keen eyed of you will have figured out that if there's one person who shouldn't have the link to the blog, then, well you know who that would be (and it's not Mumm-Ra). As I said the other day, inevitability.

So what does this mean for me? Well I'm sure they don't want me to get into it whatsoever, but as this is my personal diary I felt it best to give you some sort of reason why things will be changing a little. I know there are a lot of readers out there, and from the ones I've spoken to they don't see anything wrong with what's here. However, someone has taken exception to things that have been said and they're demanding something be done about it.

First off, nothing written here was intended to offend, cause people to feel uneasy, or adversely affect anyone in any way. That's just not me. Now I could be as bullheaded as I've always been and stick my hooves into the ground and refuse to budge. I mean, this is all about expressing my thoughts and feelings and under a normal situation I'd welcome the confrontation (I do love a good argument). However, I've decided to take a different approach. From here on in, that's it. To go back to that garden metaphor my Dad and I love so much, I'm putting down some industrial strength weed killer. The kind where they are killed at the root, never to return. Don't get me wrong, this doesn't refer in any way to stopping the blog. No no no. It just means there's certain things that just won't be mentioned.

And before you go off and form your opinions, I don't think of this as a defeat. This is simply me showing a bit of courtesy. However, should this situation escalate in any arena that would be intended to adversely affect me, then you can damn sure bet on me opening this particular garden to the public once again.

Now, to end this fascinating psychological study of an epic journey, I have a mis-quote from the WWE's Road Dogg:

"It's me it's me it's the Dogg and I got one word for ya"

"Artichoke"

Secret of the Power rangers

Everyone remembers that fateful day when the green Power Ranger changed into the white ranger. Of course they do. The most observant of us may have even realised a clever way to figure out his secret identity too.

It's a, lets be frank obvious point, but if your a Power ranger then your incredibly stupid. Why? Not because you are surprised that every week there's a creature attacking the same empty quarry, although that is slightly dim. No, it's because during their everyday activities the rangers are obsessive about their clothes. If you look very very closely you'll realise that they always always wear the same colours as their individual ranger colours. Red wears red, blue wears blue etc. Should it be any surprise that Bulk and Skull don't realise this (the answer is of course no, but I realise that the answer doesn't matter because you're too busy looking away from the screen and shaking your head in disgust that I even remember their names...of course if your that disgusted then you must remember them too, so I'm not alone). Should it be surprising that once the green ranger changed to white that his daily clothes changed too? No, but it's mighty odd.

But none of that is the point. The point is, have you thought to apply these theories in other ways? With this in mind, I'll point you to that old favourite Star Wars. Why? Because I accuse a fair chunk of the cast of being Power Rangers themselves.

Darth Vader is obviously the black ranger
An Imperial guard is the red ranger
A Stormtrooper is a white ranger
C3PO is a poncey yellow ranger
Leia in her slave girl outfit is the pinkest ranger you'll find
And the piano player in Jabba's palace Max Rebo is the blue ranger

I did try to have pictures of them all just to show you, but the upload thing seems to have stalled on me. Maybe I've got a limit there.

But anyway, can you think of any other group of people that could secretly be Power rangers?

Toilet humour

Sorry for keeping y'all hanging, but I need to find some time to write that much needed post when I'm not half asleep. Hopefully I'll do it in the morning. In the meantime, onto important business.

After a nice long relaxing bowel movement, have you ever wanted to wipe your behind with a puppy? If not then why do Andrex toilet paper make such a big deal about linking the two, even to the point of putting pictures of them on the paper?

If you said "Yes, yes I have had such wishes", then good on you. Not only have you recognised the fact that their fur is pretty absorbant, but that their constant wriggling would further reduce the amount of work you'd have to put in during a big wipe. That's right, no dead puppies for us. That's just creating more work for yourself.

There is also one other added advantage. Have you ever sat there and realised how great a bede a puppies tongue would be? Exactly.

Maybe this is why Mumbles won't let me have a puppy. The fiend.

Most interesting

Interesting. Very interesting. The world of the future has finally caught up to the present and what was inevitable has become the here and now. One shall ponder this a while.

Could I be any more frustraitingly mysterious? Although that said, it is interesting. A new spin on things. You know, just to give life that extra kick in the pants. Admittedly it doesn't say where in the pants, but who wants a kick anywhere in the pants? I know who.

But be serious. Over analyse the future and you can see anything. The future shouldn't then be a mystery. Every twist and turn a variable in the simple program of life. It's finding the time to ponder the very meaning of what is in relation to the what will be. No one really has all that much time for this sort of thing. Maybe I should make more time for it. Some say I spend too much time on it (yeah yeah I know). But come on. It may not be as great as hindsight, but it's the next best thing besides living it.

I think that given my current mental incapacity it best I not elaborate further before one has time for such ponderous moments. But trust me. It is most interesting (and not necessarily in a good way).