Are a bit like sharks you know, they gotta keep moving forward or they die.
Yep thats what we got on our hands here, a dead shark.
Sunday 13 December 2009
Thursday 26 November 2009
Thursday 15 October 2009
Halloween soon.
In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of the End". Should a look of child-like fear come over the workers face, you will then be taken to a cell in the building. It will be in a deep hidden section of the building. All you will hear is the sound of someone talking to themselves echo the halls. It is in a language that you will not understand, but your very soul will feel unspeakable fear.
Should the talking stop at any time, STOP and QUICKLY say aloud "I'm just passing through, I wish to talk." If you still hear silence, flee. Leave, do not stop for anything, do not go home, don't stay at an inn, just keep moving, and sleep where your body drops. You will know in the morning if you've escaped.
If the voice in the hall comes back after you utter those words continue on. Upon reaching the cell all you will see is a windowless room with a person in the corner, speaking an unknown language, and cradling something. The person will only respond to one question. "What happens when they all come together?"
The person will then stare into your eyes and answer your question in horrifying detail. Many go mad in that very cell, some disappear soon after the meeting, and a few end their lives. But most do the worst thing, and look upon the object in the person's hands. You will want to as well. Be warned that if you do, your death will be one of cruelty and unrelenting horror.
Your death will be in that room, by that person's hands.
That object is 1 of 538. They must never come together. Never.
Should the talking stop at any time, STOP and QUICKLY say aloud "I'm just passing through, I wish to talk." If you still hear silence, flee. Leave, do not stop for anything, do not go home, don't stay at an inn, just keep moving, and sleep where your body drops. You will know in the morning if you've escaped.
If the voice in the hall comes back after you utter those words continue on. Upon reaching the cell all you will see is a windowless room with a person in the corner, speaking an unknown language, and cradling something. The person will only respond to one question. "What happens when they all come together?"
The person will then stare into your eyes and answer your question in horrifying detail. Many go mad in that very cell, some disappear soon after the meeting, and a few end their lives. But most do the worst thing, and look upon the object in the person's hands. You will want to as well. Be warned that if you do, your death will be one of cruelty and unrelenting horror.
Your death will be in that room, by that person's hands.
That object is 1 of 538. They must never come together. Never.
Thursday 8 October 2009
Only Exception
B F#m E
When i was younger i saw my daddy cry and curse at the wind.
B F#m E
He broke his own heart and I watched as he tried to re-assemble it.
B F#m E
And my mamma swore she would never let herself forget.
B F#m
And that was the day that i promised I'd never sing of love if does not
E
exist. But darling..
CHORUS
B
You are the only exception
F#m E
You are the only exception
B
You are the only exception
F#m E B
You are the only exception
F#m E
Maybe i know somewhere deep in my soul that love never lasts.
B F#m E
And we've got to find other ways to make it alone or keep a straight face.
B F#m E
And i've always lived like this keeping a comfortable, distance.
B F#m E
And up until now i swored to myself that i'm content with loneliness,
B
'cause none of it was ever worth the risk.
CHORUS
B
But you are the only exception
F#m E
You are the only exception
B
You are the only exception
F#m E
You are the only exception
BRIDGE C#m B F#
C#m
I've got a tight grip on reality,
B F#
But i can't let go of whats part of me here.
C#m
I know you're leaving tomorrow, when you wake up,
B F#
Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream.
B C#m
whoa
(CHORUS 2x)
F#m E B
And i'm on my way to believing
F#m E B
And i'm on my way to believing
When i was younger i saw my daddy cry and curse at the wind.
B F#m E
He broke his own heart and I watched as he tried to re-assemble it.
B F#m E
And my mamma swore she would never let herself forget.
B F#m
And that was the day that i promised I'd never sing of love if does not
E
exist. But darling..
CHORUS
B
You are the only exception
F#m E
You are the only exception
B
You are the only exception
F#m E B
You are the only exception
F#m E
Maybe i know somewhere deep in my soul that love never lasts.
B F#m E
And we've got to find other ways to make it alone or keep a straight face.
B F#m E
And i've always lived like this keeping a comfortable, distance.
B F#m E
And up until now i swored to myself that i'm content with loneliness,
B
'cause none of it was ever worth the risk.
CHORUS
B
But you are the only exception
F#m E
You are the only exception
B
You are the only exception
F#m E
You are the only exception
BRIDGE C#m B F#
C#m
I've got a tight grip on reality,
B F#
But i can't let go of whats part of me here.
C#m
I know you're leaving tomorrow, when you wake up,
B F#
Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream.
B C#m
whoa
(CHORUS 2x)
F#m E B
And i'm on my way to believing
F#m E B
And i'm on my way to believing
Sunday 4 October 2009
Im going for a cyber erte' look, girls with Eton crops and monocles but also nose rings and doc martens.
3AM
Theres a certain sort of person who calls up at thtree a.m., don't you think? If twelve is the witching hour, then three's the neurotic-slut-sloshed-on-malibu-playing-Alanis-Morrisette-records-calling-married-boyfriend hour, isnt it?
Why is it so hard to find someone who makes you feel good about yourself? Because there aint no one worse than you.
its where the no lifers congregate to sip dry martinis and make sophisticated smalltalk about the state of their bowels. Its really really working and Im completely caught up in it when I suddenly realise I'm not alone.
3AM
Theres a certain sort of person who calls up at thtree a.m., don't you think? If twelve is the witching hour, then three's the neurotic-slut-sloshed-on-malibu-playing-Alanis-Morrisette-records-calling-married-boyfriend hour, isnt it?
Why is it so hard to find someone who makes you feel good about yourself? Because there aint no one worse than you.
its where the no lifers congregate to sip dry martinis and make sophisticated smalltalk about the state of their bowels. Its really really working and Im completely caught up in it when I suddenly realise I'm not alone.
Thursday 1 October 2009
Ill tell you a thing about relationships, shall I? When it goes wrong, you become less than human. You become a child. A wicked fairy. A saboteur. A poltergeiust. This other thing I did was break stuff his. Stuff I knew he really liked. 'Accidentally'. Did I feel guilty? Not at the time. You sort of see a red mist and then it's 'I dont know what came over me, your honour'. Because, put yourself in my position, he'd broken stuff of mine that i really liked, accidentally or not. Yeah, it was called my life!
Wednesday 23 September 2009
Some people say Docklands is 'soulless'; excuse me, what does this mean? How on earth can a place have 'soul'? How can you find 'soul' in bricks and mortar, building and streets? And, even more interestingly, what sort of soulless booby insists on his environment having 'soul'? It's people who are meant to have soul; if we're for some reason incapable of this, its going it a bit to try and pass the burden onto our poor insentient neighbourhoods. It's like those people who insist on wearing slogans on their t shirts, yet they haven't got two thoughts to rub together. People do; things are. I may be more of a visual person than a verbal one, but even I've got that one worked out.
So Docklands is as good a place as any for me to live. Its got good shops, and to me that makes it a neighbourhood, though unfortunately Ive got neighbours too. But my life, like most peoples I know, is the room where I work and taxis and the wild west end. You'd be suprised how much of London, real, inner London itself, is actually a collection of dormitory towns. people live where they can afford to live, and play elsewhere; this is just as true of an alleged part of London like Stoke Newington as it is of an honest to God dorm like Ilford.
When I used to voice my dreams of coming to London as an innocent teen, my mother and father would mutter about the 'loneliness' and lack of 'community spirit' extant in our fair capital. Ofcourse, the cretins couldnt see that this was red rag to a bull time to any solitary, embarassed adolescent worth their salt. (whats that mean?) The sheer, moletn, golden joy of not being known! not being watched! Being born again just the way you wanted to be! the perfection of loneliness!
In fact it didnt turn out that way. Before I took up wit Jill the Knife and moved out to me riverside palazzo, i lived in a broom cupboard over a shop in Southampton Row. Now you look at Southampton Row; its shops isnt it? its shops with traffic in the middle. its central, its commercial, its solitaire heaven.
Wrong! above those shops are hundreds of apartments, great and small. Now your neighbours are easy enough to keep at arms length; you just stiff them. You dont need anything from them , do you? But the shopkeepers, thats different. You do need stuff from them, obviously. I mean, I can live without the milk of human kindness any day, but I definately need something to stick in my coffee when I awake. I was young and healthy, for goodness sake; I needed cigarettes, vodka, pot noodles and all other basic provisions. So I had to have some sort of relationship with local shopkeepers.
When I say relationship, I meant like 'please' and 'thankyou' and the occasional smile. Did I ever have the wrong number! I dont know if you've ever watched postman pat, this kids puppet show, but it was very popular when I was at school and we'd smoked too much dope. Anyway postman pat lives in this mythical English village called Greendale, so ofcourse everyones real tight with everyone else: Mrs Goggins, Alf Thompson, Miss Hubbard, Major Forbes, Mrs Pottage, the Reverend Timms.
Excuse me, did I say 'mythical'? Well, I was wrong! Because, within three weeks of moving into what I thought was my own padded cell in the asphalt jungle, London West Central, in the roaring traffic's boom, I discovered that I had in fact moved to Greendale! Yes Postman Pat himself was on a sabbatical, and the faces here were of varied hue, and not the queasy putty pink of the puppets. But hot damn is that community spirit, that friendliness, that (some would say) pushiness wasn't thicker on the ground than Hubba Bubba.
Item: cute young girl at a newsagents next door asks me if im a model. Yes I know!1 i couldnt believe it either. goaded I let slip im an art student. For some reason, this lights the touchpaper and from here on in the comic genious of Carla and her six co-workers lnows no limits. Routinely, infront of up to twenty paying customers Im asked if I've cut my ear off yet. Im asked with mandatory leer, if I 'do nudes' and if so where do I put my brushes? One of the brighter employees seems particularly interested in 'action painting' and repeatedly enquires, like twice a day, whether I am wont to strip off my clothing, cover myself in paint and roll about on a large sheet of paper. Just passing the shop, I am regaled with cries of 'Oi Picasso!' I end up in the surreal position of walking through three streets to get a pint of early morning milk rather than go next door and become part of the living, breathing London story.
You might say, 'Oh, they were just being sexists! Harassing a single man!' But they weren't. Three of the gang were men, and two of those were black. And besides, I saw this routine pulled with so many people, most of them women. Exhausted young doctors were mercilessly teased about cold stethoscopes and being struck off for sexual misconduct, Earnest young lawyers suffered through light years of banter about 'briefs' and exactly what the ywore under their gowns. I once saw a vicar vomit on the shop floor from sheer nervs after a sustained campaign of insinuation vis-a^-vis the Virgin Birth. there was a shocked silence before they sent out for sawdust, and i realised that this apparent tormenting of certain customers was actually meant as a compliment. We were regulars, in a city of randomness, and this constant reference to the hilarity of our professions was a rather manic, but basically well-meaning, gesture of recognition. In a small community, such incessant harping on our individual identity wouldnt have been necessary; here, for some reason, it was.
Somewhere around the fifth day of sobriety, I was queuing up to pay for my booty when i sensed something about to blow, and big, with this troupe of too-long frustrated comedians. David and Claudine her main feed, kept catching the others eye, then looking towards one of us punters with one united gaze. Then they'd snap out of it and glare crankily at eachother, like illicit lovers blaming the other one for putting temptation in the way.
I really thought we were safe when a young nurse from middlesex who I knew by sight from seeing her in the shop came in. i dont know if you've seen people who've been up all night on drugs trying to go out and function the next day; well, it doesnt matter a bit whether theyve brushed their teeth, combed their hair and shined their shoes - they're different. The texture of their skin is different, their eyes are different, their movements are different. they seem not like a person, but like an alien pod trying to pass as a person.
Thats the way this young nurse, gita, looked. but she hadn't been on drugs, She'd been doing life and death, and it showed. I don't know if she'd been working on a birth, or an abortion, or a painful death. but her wild eyes, and the purply sheen in her brown skin, signalled one thing: that she'd been out there the night before to a place where most of us won't go until we're forced there. And even when we're there, giving birth or dying, we won't really know whats happening because people like Gita will be doing our dirty work for us, and we'll be flying high on morphine. Well, she'd been there stone-cold sober, looking at the whole horrifying thing for twelve hours non-stop, and you could tell that it had driven her a little mad. but mad in that utterly selfless way that only nurses can do; all she wanted was a cup of tea and she'd be ready to go all over again.
So Docklands is as good a place as any for me to live. Its got good shops, and to me that makes it a neighbourhood, though unfortunately Ive got neighbours too. But my life, like most peoples I know, is the room where I work and taxis and the wild west end. You'd be suprised how much of London, real, inner London itself, is actually a collection of dormitory towns. people live where they can afford to live, and play elsewhere; this is just as true of an alleged part of London like Stoke Newington as it is of an honest to God dorm like Ilford.
When I used to voice my dreams of coming to London as an innocent teen, my mother and father would mutter about the 'loneliness' and lack of 'community spirit' extant in our fair capital. Ofcourse, the cretins couldnt see that this was red rag to a bull time to any solitary, embarassed adolescent worth their salt. (whats that mean?) The sheer, moletn, golden joy of not being known! not being watched! Being born again just the way you wanted to be! the perfection of loneliness!
In fact it didnt turn out that way. Before I took up wit Jill the Knife and moved out to me riverside palazzo, i lived in a broom cupboard over a shop in Southampton Row. Now you look at Southampton Row; its shops isnt it? its shops with traffic in the middle. its central, its commercial, its solitaire heaven.
Wrong! above those shops are hundreds of apartments, great and small. Now your neighbours are easy enough to keep at arms length; you just stiff them. You dont need anything from them , do you? But the shopkeepers, thats different. You do need stuff from them, obviously. I mean, I can live without the milk of human kindness any day, but I definately need something to stick in my coffee when I awake. I was young and healthy, for goodness sake; I needed cigarettes, vodka, pot noodles and all other basic provisions. So I had to have some sort of relationship with local shopkeepers.
When I say relationship, I meant like 'please' and 'thankyou' and the occasional smile. Did I ever have the wrong number! I dont know if you've ever watched postman pat, this kids puppet show, but it was very popular when I was at school and we'd smoked too much dope. Anyway postman pat lives in this mythical English village called Greendale, so ofcourse everyones real tight with everyone else: Mrs Goggins, Alf Thompson, Miss Hubbard, Major Forbes, Mrs Pottage, the Reverend Timms.
Excuse me, did I say 'mythical'? Well, I was wrong! Because, within three weeks of moving into what I thought was my own padded cell in the asphalt jungle, London West Central, in the roaring traffic's boom, I discovered that I had in fact moved to Greendale! Yes Postman Pat himself was on a sabbatical, and the faces here were of varied hue, and not the queasy putty pink of the puppets. But hot damn is that community spirit, that friendliness, that (some would say) pushiness wasn't thicker on the ground than Hubba Bubba.
Item: cute young girl at a newsagents next door asks me if im a model. Yes I know!1 i couldnt believe it either. goaded I let slip im an art student. For some reason, this lights the touchpaper and from here on in the comic genious of Carla and her six co-workers lnows no limits. Routinely, infront of up to twenty paying customers Im asked if I've cut my ear off yet. Im asked with mandatory leer, if I 'do nudes' and if so where do I put my brushes? One of the brighter employees seems particularly interested in 'action painting' and repeatedly enquires, like twice a day, whether I am wont to strip off my clothing, cover myself in paint and roll about on a large sheet of paper. Just passing the shop, I am regaled with cries of 'Oi Picasso!' I end up in the surreal position of walking through three streets to get a pint of early morning milk rather than go next door and become part of the living, breathing London story.
You might say, 'Oh, they were just being sexists! Harassing a single man!' But they weren't. Three of the gang were men, and two of those were black. And besides, I saw this routine pulled with so many people, most of them women. Exhausted young doctors were mercilessly teased about cold stethoscopes and being struck off for sexual misconduct, Earnest young lawyers suffered through light years of banter about 'briefs' and exactly what the ywore under their gowns. I once saw a vicar vomit on the shop floor from sheer nervs after a sustained campaign of insinuation vis-a^-vis the Virgin Birth. there was a shocked silence before they sent out for sawdust, and i realised that this apparent tormenting of certain customers was actually meant as a compliment. We were regulars, in a city of randomness, and this constant reference to the hilarity of our professions was a rather manic, but basically well-meaning, gesture of recognition. In a small community, such incessant harping on our individual identity wouldnt have been necessary; here, for some reason, it was.
Somewhere around the fifth day of sobriety, I was queuing up to pay for my booty when i sensed something about to blow, and big, with this troupe of too-long frustrated comedians. David and Claudine her main feed, kept catching the others eye, then looking towards one of us punters with one united gaze. Then they'd snap out of it and glare crankily at eachother, like illicit lovers blaming the other one for putting temptation in the way.
I really thought we were safe when a young nurse from middlesex who I knew by sight from seeing her in the shop came in. i dont know if you've seen people who've been up all night on drugs trying to go out and function the next day; well, it doesnt matter a bit whether theyve brushed their teeth, combed their hair and shined their shoes - they're different. The texture of their skin is different, their eyes are different, their movements are different. they seem not like a person, but like an alien pod trying to pass as a person.
Thats the way this young nurse, gita, looked. but she hadn't been on drugs, She'd been doing life and death, and it showed. I don't know if she'd been working on a birth, or an abortion, or a painful death. but her wild eyes, and the purply sheen in her brown skin, signalled one thing: that she'd been out there the night before to a place where most of us won't go until we're forced there. And even when we're there, giving birth or dying, we won't really know whats happening because people like Gita will be doing our dirty work for us, and we'll be flying high on morphine. Well, she'd been there stone-cold sober, looking at the whole horrifying thing for twelve hours non-stop, and you could tell that it had driven her a little mad. but mad in that utterly selfless way that only nurses can do; all she wanted was a cup of tea and she'd be ready to go all over again.
Tuesday 22 September 2009
Saras mask dedicated to lustlost
The first time I saw you I thought that I
Would just make another
And then I realized that in life you were
Just another mirror
The first words you spoke were the ones that I
Vaguely remember
But tied in a knot all the times that we
Haven't spent together
And is it your face
That's got you down?
Or is it your mind
When no one's around?
And is it your face
That's got you down
Or is it your mind
When no one's around?
And now when she leaves in the dark
Behind amber waves of cancer
A stroll in the park is a walk from her
Hopes to be a dancer
A light at the end of a tunnel that's
Been going on forever
You don't understand why these people
Are looking unfamiliar
So take my hand
I will walk you around in a mask
Why don't you tell me now
Is it your face
That's got you down?
Or is it your mind
When no one's around?
(Thinking thoughts of a suicide)
And is it your face
That's got you down?
Or is it your mind
When no one's around?
And now when you leave in the dark
Inside everybody's answers
You're planning a way to abandon us
And live your life the way you like
Avoiding the urge to go sulk
In your remedial appearance
But Sara I only expect to see
The whole thing a little bit clearer
So take my hand
I will walk you around in a mask
Why don't you tell me now
Would just make another
And then I realized that in life you were
Just another mirror
The first words you spoke were the ones that I
Vaguely remember
But tied in a knot all the times that we
Haven't spent together
And is it your face
That's got you down?
Or is it your mind
When no one's around?
And is it your face
That's got you down
Or is it your mind
When no one's around?
And now when she leaves in the dark
Behind amber waves of cancer
A stroll in the park is a walk from her
Hopes to be a dancer
A light at the end of a tunnel that's
Been going on forever
You don't understand why these people
Are looking unfamiliar
So take my hand
I will walk you around in a mask
Why don't you tell me now
Is it your face
That's got you down?
Or is it your mind
When no one's around?
(Thinking thoughts of a suicide)
And is it your face
That's got you down?
Or is it your mind
When no one's around?
And now when you leave in the dark
Inside everybody's answers
You're planning a way to abandon us
And live your life the way you like
Avoiding the urge to go sulk
In your remedial appearance
But Sara I only expect to see
The whole thing a little bit clearer
So take my hand
I will walk you around in a mask
Why don't you tell me now
The end of the line
When the sirens flash is gone
And were left to carry on
All the memories are too few
When the pastors music plays
And that casket rolls away
I could live again if you
Just stay alive for me
Now that you are dead and gone
And Im left to carry on
I could never smile cause you
Wont stay alive for me
Finally
Your final resting day
Is without me
I weep
And think of brighter days
What about me?
You cant take back the one mistake
That still lives on after life, it takes
In that one day that changed our lives
And bitter memories are left behind
You cant take back the one mistake
That still lives on after life, it takes
In that one day that changed our lives
And bitter memories are left behind, oh yeah
Please stay now, you left me here alone
Please stay, I cant make it on my own,
Rest in peace Andrew Ireland. I knew you for a brief moment in this split second of an existence.
And were left to carry on
All the memories are too few
When the pastors music plays
And that casket rolls away
I could live again if you
Just stay alive for me
Now that you are dead and gone
And Im left to carry on
I could never smile cause you
Wont stay alive for me
Finally
Your final resting day
Is without me
I weep
And think of brighter days
What about me?
You cant take back the one mistake
That still lives on after life, it takes
In that one day that changed our lives
And bitter memories are left behind
You cant take back the one mistake
That still lives on after life, it takes
In that one day that changed our lives
And bitter memories are left behind, oh yeah
Please stay now, you left me here alone
Please stay, I cant make it on my own,
Rest in peace Andrew Ireland. I knew you for a brief moment in this split second of an existence.
RIGHT
So i could say things are back to normal... but what I mean to say is that im ready to start being normal. When im into the swing of working routine I think I may just sort out that law and history degree!
Has been a strange month, seeing old faces and its just like getting back off summer holidays.
I think I have seen more women this month than I have in the whole year.
Gotta get out there.
Wispa chocolate bars are a bit lovely though...
So I can tolerate the radio again now, after 2 or 3 weeks of listening to ckys new album carver city (its fucking great!) oh blog how I have missed you. Too much partying and being socially alert. I dislike a lot of stuff thats happening around me but the good outweighs the bad BY FUCKING FAR! And I only have time for the good.
I had this wierd idea or mottoe or way of life or whatever.... its like ... praise the good and punish the bad. Its pretty self explanatory but it works on so many levels... i think im going to call it the #'puppy method'#
Cant wait to be working and doing driving lessons. I dont wanna be too old learning to drive.
So my buddy was like so what have you been up to since i last saw you? And i had to answer nothing.... it was a shock to me really even though he was like Yeah just like everyone else! But still its time for me to get moving now. Ive gone for years just seeing what happens and being peaceful. Its time to stop acting so disengaged and seeming plain stupid.
I have decided im going to sort out all the snidy cunts who give funny looks to people and try to sway how people think.
Time to fuck some shit up!!!!
Has been a strange month, seeing old faces and its just like getting back off summer holidays.
I think I have seen more women this month than I have in the whole year.
Gotta get out there.
Wispa chocolate bars are a bit lovely though...
So I can tolerate the radio again now, after 2 or 3 weeks of listening to ckys new album carver city (its fucking great!) oh blog how I have missed you. Too much partying and being socially alert. I dislike a lot of stuff thats happening around me but the good outweighs the bad BY FUCKING FAR! And I only have time for the good.
I had this wierd idea or mottoe or way of life or whatever.... its like ... praise the good and punish the bad. Its pretty self explanatory but it works on so many levels... i think im going to call it the #'puppy method'#
Cant wait to be working and doing driving lessons. I dont wanna be too old learning to drive.
So my buddy was like so what have you been up to since i last saw you? And i had to answer nothing.... it was a shock to me really even though he was like Yeah just like everyone else! But still its time for me to get moving now. Ive gone for years just seeing what happens and being peaceful. Its time to stop acting so disengaged and seeming plain stupid.
I have decided im going to sort out all the snidy cunts who give funny looks to people and try to sway how people think.
Time to fuck some shit up!!!!
.
To be human is to be curious. And one of the things we are most curious about is how we came to be who we are--how we evolved over millions of years to become creatures capable of inquiring into our own evolution.
memo to self
Read The World from Beginnings to 4000 BCE
Ian Tattersall
memo to self
Read The World from Beginnings to 4000 BCE
Ian Tattersall
Tuesday 15 September 2009
XD
The quality of my blogs is diminishing. Where I think Im coming on in leaps in bounds its possible Im not. But who cares anyway Im playing amazing guitar at the moment!
There is no other pill to take, so swallow the water that makes you ill
Some people count sheep
but i write when i cant sleep
I heard people read to get smart
but i think reading makes you a retard
some people say i look like a scruff
and to them i say fair enough
youre not allowed to be poor and pompous
but you can be rich and obnoxious
the buyers and sellers
the auld fellas
the plot that thickens
politicians beauticians and medicine men
running round like headless chickens
the concept of us and them
they all have secrets to keep
they all manage to sleep
and so should you.
adieu
but i write when i cant sleep
I heard people read to get smart
but i think reading makes you a retard
some people say i look like a scruff
and to them i say fair enough
youre not allowed to be poor and pompous
but you can be rich and obnoxious
the buyers and sellers
the auld fellas
the plot that thickens
politicians beauticians and medicine men
running round like headless chickens
the concept of us and them
they all have secrets to keep
they all manage to sleep
and so should you.
adieu
when you posess both compassion and efficiency, luck is rather immaterial
A magnanimous farewell
I cant help smirking. A rich ubane see you round smirk, so it looks like its ciao. My smirk threatens to eat my face and make a start on my neck for afters.
As the train pulled in I staggered back to our seats laden down with refreshments - though you dont really feel refreshed after stuffing yourself stupid with cheddar ploughmans sarnies and double G&Ts do you? Yous just feel more knackered. Why is this? - I find HER sticking her tongue out at a little boy on the platform with his leg in plaster. He hobbled away, backwards, still looking at her, amazed. Then he walked into a trolley, keeled over and began to cry. His mother ran up to him, hauled him to his feet and slapped him.
She sniggered
I started to say something, then remembered that she'd grown up in a different culture to me. Casual racism, wrestling to the death and branding blood relations with red-hot pokers was all in a days work when she was a girl. So I didnt say anything. Instead I sat opposite her and smiled as I handed her her tea.
'Here you go - three sugars! Live dangerously, eh?'
She then proceeded to call me 'The boybride of some muslim homo.'
What a fantastic grasp of the language. Such a razor sharp lizardlike tongue.... I guess thats where I get it from.
I cant help smirking. A rich ubane see you round smirk, so it looks like its ciao. My smirk threatens to eat my face and make a start on my neck for afters.
As the train pulled in I staggered back to our seats laden down with refreshments - though you dont really feel refreshed after stuffing yourself stupid with cheddar ploughmans sarnies and double G&Ts do you? Yous just feel more knackered. Why is this? - I find HER sticking her tongue out at a little boy on the platform with his leg in plaster. He hobbled away, backwards, still looking at her, amazed. Then he walked into a trolley, keeled over and began to cry. His mother ran up to him, hauled him to his feet and slapped him.
She sniggered
I started to say something, then remembered that she'd grown up in a different culture to me. Casual racism, wrestling to the death and branding blood relations with red-hot pokers was all in a days work when she was a girl. So I didnt say anything. Instead I sat opposite her and smiled as I handed her her tea.
'Here you go - three sugars! Live dangerously, eh?'
She then proceeded to call me 'The boybride of some muslim homo.'
What a fantastic grasp of the language. Such a razor sharp lizardlike tongue.... I guess thats where I get it from.
...
At the little office inside the door i gave my name to the elderly secretary who looked old enough to remember jesus in pantalooons. Then gave it to her again, as she'd managed to forget it somewhere between hearing it and looking for a pen with which to write it down. Behind her, an overweight woman with frizzy black hair typed slowly on a computer, the expression on her face suggesting that someone had forced her on pain of death, to suck repeatedly on a sour lemon. They seemed like the kind of women who considered it their sacred duty to be unhappy and regarded anyone with a smile on his face as mired in unimagineable vice. I smiled, and tried to give the impression that only I engaged in imagineable vices. In return, the secretary guided or more so directed me to an uncomfortable plastic chair. When I sat on it, it teetered to the left, forcing me to shift my weight to the right or tumble straight back out the door.
After a couple of minutes, a man appeared in the doorway of the room to my left. He wore a brown uniform shirt and neatly pressed brown trousers. According to the badge at his breast, his name was Grass. The local stoners probably laughed themselves blue in the face, at least until Grass got up close and personal with them. He was a young man in his twenties, and when he shook my hand I felt one of my knuckles pop.
After a couple of minutes, a man appeared in the doorway of the room to my left. He wore a brown uniform shirt and neatly pressed brown trousers. According to the badge at his breast, his name was Grass. The local stoners probably laughed themselves blue in the face, at least until Grass got up close and personal with them. He was a young man in his twenties, and when he shook my hand I felt one of my knuckles pop.
Something I found and suprised myself with.
familiarity breeds contempt
I could write the book
just call me a human tennis ball
I could take credit for bringing these beautiful people together
But that would only make me responsible
To be the one to make everything right.
I sit in hours of isolation
empty mind racing
Trying to clear it out just that little bit more.
Great wars have been fought in the time we have not made contact
And it still feels like yesterday
Try and tell me tomorrow is too late
No use pretending
I will use everything within me to make things right again.
I could write the book
just call me a human tennis ball
I could take credit for bringing these beautiful people together
But that would only make me responsible
To be the one to make everything right.
I sit in hours of isolation
empty mind racing
Trying to clear it out just that little bit more.
Great wars have been fought in the time we have not made contact
And it still feels like yesterday
Try and tell me tomorrow is too late
No use pretending
I will use everything within me to make things right again.
what im about how i roll etc
Cant stand thieves, and hate liars- I will always forgive you and say sorry when i've done nothing wrong- I like smiles and people who dont do drama- musicians people with ideas- Its good when you are happy... some people will make sure youre not.
advice
Never let the sun set on a silly argument, take life as it comes along. live each day as it is special cos it could be the last one!
........
making a horror movie?
i have loads of bands that want me to make their vidz, but i dont have the money
the first one i made was just running through the woods with a fish eye lens
all darkness and strange lighting
and an abandoned house in black and white dat tape
it was good you could probably apply it to any music video with enough editing
i have loads of bands that want me to make their vidz, but i dont have the money
the first one i made was just running through the woods with a fish eye lens
all darkness and strange lighting
and an abandoned house in black and white dat tape
it was good you could probably apply it to any music video with enough editing
A
So tonight I'll sit and pick apart your pictures
And overanalyze your words
But the truth is that I've never fallen so hard
It's taking everything in me
Just to forget your sweater so far
I can honestly say
That I never, ever, ever felt this way
Your lips, your eyelashes, your skin
These are the parts of your body
That cause my comatose to begin
I will sleep another day
I don't really need to anyway
What's the point when my dreams are infected
With words you used to say
I will breathe in a moment
As long as I keep my distance
I wouldn't want to go messing anything up
So don't go worrying about me
It's not like I think about you constantly
So maybe I do, but that shouldn't affect
Your life anymore
I knew it the moment you walked into the door
And overanalyze your words
But the truth is that I've never fallen so hard
It's taking everything in me
Just to forget your sweater so far
I can honestly say
That I never, ever, ever felt this way
Your lips, your eyelashes, your skin
These are the parts of your body
That cause my comatose to begin
I will sleep another day
I don't really need to anyway
What's the point when my dreams are infected
With words you used to say
I will breathe in a moment
As long as I keep my distance
I wouldn't want to go messing anything up
So don't go worrying about me
It's not like I think about you constantly
So maybe I do, but that shouldn't affect
Your life anymore
I knew it the moment you walked into the door
I been sittin here, just wastin time.... drinkin, smokin, tryin to free my mind. It is my anthem.
pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves vanity to what we would have others think of us.
there are people that smoke weed that aren't stupid, though its quite a common inevitability.
Its not all about that infact it definately isnt. Girls arent important money is ... though money is a good way to attract girls so its a catch 22 situation.
you say youre surrounded by negativity
but youre the only one that sounds negative to me
time keeps rollin on
and time has chased me away
its all good
thats all you ever say lately
thats all you ever
all you ever say.
there are people that smoke weed that aren't stupid, though its quite a common inevitability.
Its not all about that infact it definately isnt. Girls arent important money is ... though money is a good way to attract girls so its a catch 22 situation.
you say youre surrounded by negativity
but youre the only one that sounds negative to me
time keeps rollin on
and time has chased me away
its all good
thats all you ever say lately
thats all you ever
all you ever say.
random scribbled observations an animal with lungs is merely visiting the planet.
In a sense the world is becoming drawn together into one great communications network. Not so long ago philosophers had to travel for days by horse and carriage in order to investigate the world around them and meet other philosophers. Today we can sit anywhere at all on this planet and access the whole of human experience on a computer screen.
Occassionally infinitessimal errors occur in the process so that the copied cell is not exactly the same as the mother cell. in modern biological terms this is a mutation mutations are either totally irrelevant or they can lead to marked changes in the behaviour of the individual they can be directly harmful and such 'mutants' will be continually discarded from large broods. Many diseases are infact due to mutations. But sometimes a mutation can give an individual just that extra positiv characteristic needed to hold its own in the struggle for existence.
Occassionally infinitessimal errors occur in the process so that the copied cell is not exactly the same as the mother cell. in modern biological terms this is a mutation mutations are either totally irrelevant or they can lead to marked changes in the behaviour of the individual they can be directly harmful and such 'mutants' will be continually discarded from large broods. Many diseases are infact due to mutations. But sometimes a mutation can give an individual just that extra positiv characteristic needed to hold its own in the struggle for existence.
let it go
When you're taught through feelings
Destiny flying high above
all I know is that you can realize it
Destiny who cares
as it turns around
and I know that it descends down on me
It's just another day
the shame is gone
hard to believe
that I've let it go
Destiny can't replace my life
Scary shadows of my past
are alive
Destiny who cares
as it turns around
and I know that it descends
with a smile
It's just another day
the shame is gone
it's hard to believe
that I've let it go away
It's just a melody
it bleeds in me
hard to believe
that I've let it go
Destiny flying high above
all I know is that you can realize it
Destiny who cares
as it turns around
and I know that it descends down on me
It's just another day
the shame is gone
hard to believe
that I've let it go
Destiny can't replace my life
Scary shadows of my past
are alive
Destiny who cares
as it turns around
and I know that it descends
with a smile
It's just another day
the shame is gone
it's hard to believe
that I've let it go away
It's just a melody
it bleeds in me
hard to believe
that I've let it go
if you have ever
So Iv been writing lot....
I am at peace I think.
Im not as full of rage and frustration as usual.
Questioning everything, wanting nothing
Feeling free.
But you are not going to go away are you.
I am at peace I think.
Im not as full of rage and frustration as usual.
Questioning everything, wanting nothing
Feeling free.
But you are not going to go away are you.
Bagel of death
Friends talk among friends about going to a mansion during vacation. Knowing little of its haunting past...they decide to go. A horrid past haunts this mansion, causing strange things to happen while they are in the mansion. Jealousy grows among some. Romance and Love grows intertwined. They soon learn the history of the mansion they are residing at...will they stay or leave. This is the story of this mansion..of Romance...
Alright. Pretty much what the story says, this is a role play where emotions fly...and so do some items! I thought it would be awesome to take a Horror story and mix it with a Romance story, and put Harry potter in the mix.
Kathrine laughed "Come on dont be chicken!" she said walking inside, she looked around, everyone had just arrived The mansion was dark, and Medieval looking. It scared her slightly, she felt as if some one was watching her.
Evra had not yet entered the mansion, due to fear. With Hailey behind him quivering, he felt quite uncomfortable
Johanna was looking around for someone to go in with her, she refused to go in alone
Aeyron got out of the taxi and felt a sudden chill down his spine... "Hey there." Aeyron said to the girl that was looking around, "Who're you looking for???" Aeyron looked up at the mansion and imagined a moat around the place with banners and a portacullis. "Looks kinda cool doesn't it?"
"Cool in a spooky way" Kathrine said
Hannah took a deep breath as she took in the sight of the mansion. "We're staying here?"
Damien, her older brother, nodded. "Seems like it."
"Come on, then," Shane said with much enthusiasm. He took one of Elle's shaking hands and dragged her inside.
Hannah looked at her brother. "There is no way I'm entering that house. '
"Mansion actually," Damien corrected her.
'Whatever," Hannah said. "I am not going in there."
Damien rolled his eyes. He swept Hannah off her feet, hoisted her over his right shoulder, and carried her inside.
Julio was dragged in by his sister as usual. Ora tugged on him until they made it in one piece. "Seems my eyebrow nearly got sliced because of you," Julio said bitterly.
"It's not my fault you can't side apparate correctly," Ora retorted. She stopped shortly as she saw Johanna.
"Hey, aren't you going inside? We got the message to meet up here."
Mike cowardly stepped up to Damien, "H-Hey she said trying to sound as brave as possible, "She said that she didn't want to go i-inside!" But it was too late, and poor Mike had to run after them both inside.
Hermione and Annette came from the dark night together, shivering. Not from fear but from the utter cold night. "Why are we even here?" Annette asked her. Hermione shrugged. She simply walked forward to Julio who was still wondering if he should go inside.
"Are you scared?" she asked.
"No! Of course not! I was just waiting on you and Annette. Yes, that's it." He grinned.
"Come in with us then. Seems the rest of them are inside."
Evra walked inside, with Hailey clinging to his back "Get off me..." he muttered
"Nope....not if you paid me a million bucks, i am scared out of my wits" Hailey whined
Johanna noticed a few people walking inside, she was off in a dark corner. She ran and followed them inside.
Ora frowned. She seemed to be ignored over the girl's freight. "Hey! Johanna! Wait up!" Ora whined.
Johanna turned "Ora!!! Hi" she said
She started to pant as she stopped, "W-Why are.. we here? This place smells kinda funny..."
Johanna shrugged "I dont know, was not my idea. But ya know, i like the whole design of it." she said "but its got a strange aura"
"Whaddya mean? If you mean the smell..." Ora looked around for a minute and then turned her head back around. "Wait a minute, you aren't having a Luna Lovegood moment are you?"
Johanna laughed hard "No silly!! The air feels heavy around here. it makes me feel uneasy" she said
She shrugged lightly, "I don't feel it. I just smell it. You don't think its dark magic do you?"
"Who knows." Johanna said
Aeyron decided to push on through the house and first floor, heading toward the stairs... "I bet they have a killer library." He said aloud to the others in the house... 'I know what I can do, I'll charm the books to "attack" anyone that comes in... Perfect' He thought to himself.
Hermione's ears perked up and she seemed to follow Aeyron. "Did you say library?"
Julio was being dragged along for the ride. "Hermione, I really don't-"
"Shh, you won't be like Ron, come with me and Aeyron."
Ora frowned, "I hope not."
Johanna nodded
Aeyron did an about face and looked at Hermione, "Perhaps it would be best if I went in for a quick minute and checked it out... I mean just so you don't hurt yourself." Aeyron amended, trying to keep his plan rolling.
Hermione stopped short and flared her nostrils. "I can take care of myself thank you," she said harshly. "Honestly, why do you boys think that I need the help when half the time I'm the one saving you."
Kathrine was walking when she was shoved by something, when she turned nothing was there..."Oh great...now i am imagining things" she said when she passed Aeyron and Hermione, looking quite freaked out
Johanna looked at Ora "So wanna head inside?"
"That looks like the library... Come on." Aeyron said, pushing past Kathrine, "Kath, we already knew you were crazy, no need to prove it." He whispered as he went by, giving a joking smile. "Huh, kinda stuck." Aeyron pushed his hardest against the heavy wooden doors. "Okay, I saw this once in a movie, let's try it." Aeyron walked to the top of the stairs, gauged the distance and ran full force at the doors, jumping up as if to kick them down... but never made contact, just before his feet would have touched the doors, they flew open and swallowed, closing just as swiftly behind him.
"Oh hell," Julio muttered. Hermione took out her wand in an instant. "Great, first bad thing to happen. I had a bad feeling about this."
"What spell are you going to use?" he asked her.
"I don't know, Katherin, any ideas?" Hermione frowned.
Ora grabbed Johanna's hand and lead her inside, "no need to ask me."
Kathrine looked confused "Nope....What the hell just happened"
Johanna laughed a bit
Hermione grunted in frustration. "That door just ate Aeyron," Hermione said. "I wish Harry was here. No, I can do this."
She pointed her wand and cast a few spells but none of them seemed to work.
Julio took out his wand but had no ideas. Instead, he walked up to the door and tried to kick it open again.
Kathrine sighed "I knew i was not just imagining things earlier...." she said and she walked up to the door
"Okay, not funny guys, Carpe Retractum." Aeyron said, pulling his wand from his sleeve and pulling at the door, but it wouldn't budge. "Open the door!" He went and pounded hard, doing nothing but hurting his hand. "Ahh... that hurt." He said, gripping his hand. He whirled around as he heard a rustle behind him, he looked and saw a book lying on the ground. 'what the heck?' He went and picked up the book looking at the first page, The art and tools of warfare, Author Unknown, underneath he saw a picture of a delicate but dangerous-looking sword. "Looks real." he said, throwing it over his shoulder but instead of a thud, hearing the clang of metal and the slice of it being picked up.
Hermione's ears pricked up. "Aeyron? Can you hear me?" she yelled.
"What was that thud? Kat, are you alright?" Julio seemed to only have questions.
Kathrine studied the door "I think i can find a way in...thank god dad was a paranormal investigator..." she muttered
"Muggle or magical?" Hermione asked. She starting to feel she was surrounded by Luna Lovegoods.
Aeyron heard the faint noise of Hermione's voice, he was backing toward the door not taking his eyes off of the sword that was now doing acrobatics in the air while he himself conjured one... "Okay, guys? I'm sorry about my plan to make the books attack anyone that came in here, but WHY AND HOW THE HECK ARE YOU DOING THIS!!!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, blocking the now offensive sword going for his heart, fighting off the attacks with greace and finesse, as artfully as a dancer. "JOKE'S OVER! STOP THE SWORD AND LET ME OUT!!!" He yelled at them, still thinking they were playing a trick on him.
Hermione started to bang on the door. "Aeyron? What are you talking about? We aren't doing anything but trying to get you out!"
Kathrine tapped three times in the middle of the door, then pushed on it and it slid open a bit, but it seemed as if it was being blocked off by something, as if barricaded
"How did you-- Oh nevermind, seems blocked," Hermione bit her lower lip. She pointed her wand and uttered another spell.
Kathrine smirked "You learn a thing or two when you dad works with this stuff." she said "Damn...its barricaded...this is gonna be harder then i thought"
Julio pointed his wand, "Depr--"
Hermione cupped her hand over his mouth, "Don't use that spell! You'll destroy the door and hurt everyone! Think will you?"
She pointed her wand again, "Wingardium Leviosa". She waited to see if that took out the obstruction.
Kathrine looked at them "Magic is not gonna work...but y'all are welcome to keep trying" she said "The Paranormal are not altered by magic." she said "And yes i am aware how crazy i sound."
Hermione put her wand down and for a moment was going to say something, but she held back. "Do you mean to tell me that what's happening here isn't magical?"
"Where's Luna when you need her?" Julio muttered.
"Nope. No magic at all. If it were we would be able to tell. and also, All you have to do is go through the door at this point." Kathrine said "Just walk right through, there is nothing in front of the door, at first i thought there was but if there had been i would not be able to do this." Kathrine walked right into the Library with out another word.
"Remind me again if I'm awake," Julio said with a blink.
"You're awake and so am I. I just don't believe this..." Hermione muttered. She walked through the door leaving Julio behind.
"H-Hey wait! What if something attacks me out here! Wait!" he whined as he too threw himself through the door.
"TELL THAT TO THE SWORD AN INCH AWAY FROM MY THROAT!!! HOW CAN THIS HAPPEN WITHOUT ANY MAGICAL INTERFEREN-- Ouch, you son of a... GUN! YOU GUYS HAPPY NOW, YOU GOT ME!!!" Aeyron yealled, still fighting off the sword while stemming the blood... "OH, YOU EVEN GOT THE BOOKS TO BARRICADE THE DOOR, ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME???" Aeyron did a hard slice and caused the sword to hit the ground and shatter. "It's about... crap." Aeyron looked up and saw 50 more of the swords appear in midair, all poised and ready for battle. "Tergeo, there got the blood off. I need another sword." Aeyron conjured one and yelled back out the door. "OKAY, I BELIEVE YOU NOW, THIS IS WAY TOO MUCH... EVEN FOR HERMIONE. SO HURRY UP!!!" Aeyron yelled, now defending himself from the onslaught of swords, getting minor scratches as he fought hard, but ignoring them.
Kathrine sighed "Whatever is in the mansion feels threatened..."
Lacey hesitated, staring at the mansion. "I dunno about this, Luce..."
Lucy nodded in agreement with Lacey. "Me either... It's weird."
Lacey smiled weakly and went to take her sister's hand. "C'mon. I need to find Mike."
Lucy giggled, "Oooh, Mike!"
Lacey playfully punched Lucy on the arm. "Shut up. What if he is around here? He'll hear you!"
The two continued to search for the rest.
"Aeyron!" Hermione rushed forward, "Are you alright?" She pointed her wand but then bit her lower lip. "Right, no magic huh?"
Julio muttered something under his breath. "Now what? Do we just run?"
Kathrine sighed "I am gonna sound crazy again...just a warning" she said then looked up "Is someone here??" she said loudly "Can you tell us a name??" she said again "We mean no harm, we do not wish to hurt you!" she said.
The moment she finished the swords stopped and the books fell
"Thank god that worked...i didnt think it would" Kathrine said
"You know... Thank goodness for those practicings I did in the Shrieking Shack." Aeyron said, checking out his own blood-stained shirt and bleeding cuts... but mainly looking at the bloody gash on his upper shoulder. "that's gonna leave a mark." He said, fainting promptly afterward, from the loss of blood.
"damn it" Kathrine said turning to Aeyron
Aeyron moaned as he stirred, his muscles ached and his body felt warm... except the chills running through every nerve and vein in his body. "Kathrine... I need to tell you something. Come here, so I can whisper it to you." Aeyron said, conjuring what little strength he had, 'please stay with me long enough to tell her' he pleaded.
Kathrine looked confused and bent down by him "Yes? whats it?"
Alright. Pretty much what the story says, this is a role play where emotions fly...and so do some items! I thought it would be awesome to take a Horror story and mix it with a Romance story, and put Harry potter in the mix.
Kathrine laughed "Come on dont be chicken!" she said walking inside, she looked around, everyone had just arrived The mansion was dark, and Medieval looking. It scared her slightly, she felt as if some one was watching her.
Evra had not yet entered the mansion, due to fear. With Hailey behind him quivering, he felt quite uncomfortable
Johanna was looking around for someone to go in with her, she refused to go in alone
Aeyron got out of the taxi and felt a sudden chill down his spine... "Hey there." Aeyron said to the girl that was looking around, "Who're you looking for???" Aeyron looked up at the mansion and imagined a moat around the place with banners and a portacullis. "Looks kinda cool doesn't it?"
"Cool in a spooky way" Kathrine said
Hannah took a deep breath as she took in the sight of the mansion. "We're staying here?"
Damien, her older brother, nodded. "Seems like it."
"Come on, then," Shane said with much enthusiasm. He took one of Elle's shaking hands and dragged her inside.
Hannah looked at her brother. "There is no way I'm entering that house. '
"Mansion actually," Damien corrected her.
'Whatever," Hannah said. "I am not going in there."
Damien rolled his eyes. He swept Hannah off her feet, hoisted her over his right shoulder, and carried her inside.
Julio was dragged in by his sister as usual. Ora tugged on him until they made it in one piece. "Seems my eyebrow nearly got sliced because of you," Julio said bitterly.
"It's not my fault you can't side apparate correctly," Ora retorted. She stopped shortly as she saw Johanna.
"Hey, aren't you going inside? We got the message to meet up here."
Mike cowardly stepped up to Damien, "H-Hey she said trying to sound as brave as possible, "She said that she didn't want to go i-inside!" But it was too late, and poor Mike had to run after them both inside.
Hermione and Annette came from the dark night together, shivering. Not from fear but from the utter cold night. "Why are we even here?" Annette asked her. Hermione shrugged. She simply walked forward to Julio who was still wondering if he should go inside.
"Are you scared?" she asked.
"No! Of course not! I was just waiting on you and Annette. Yes, that's it." He grinned.
"Come in with us then. Seems the rest of them are inside."
Evra walked inside, with Hailey clinging to his back "Get off me..." he muttered
"Nope....not if you paid me a million bucks, i am scared out of my wits" Hailey whined
Johanna noticed a few people walking inside, she was off in a dark corner. She ran and followed them inside.
Ora frowned. She seemed to be ignored over the girl's freight. "Hey! Johanna! Wait up!" Ora whined.
Johanna turned "Ora!!! Hi" she said
She started to pant as she stopped, "W-Why are.. we here? This place smells kinda funny..."
Johanna shrugged "I dont know, was not my idea. But ya know, i like the whole design of it." she said "but its got a strange aura"
"Whaddya mean? If you mean the smell..." Ora looked around for a minute and then turned her head back around. "Wait a minute, you aren't having a Luna Lovegood moment are you?"
Johanna laughed hard "No silly!! The air feels heavy around here. it makes me feel uneasy" she said
She shrugged lightly, "I don't feel it. I just smell it. You don't think its dark magic do you?"
"Who knows." Johanna said
Aeyron decided to push on through the house and first floor, heading toward the stairs... "I bet they have a killer library." He said aloud to the others in the house... 'I know what I can do, I'll charm the books to "attack" anyone that comes in... Perfect' He thought to himself.
Hermione's ears perked up and she seemed to follow Aeyron. "Did you say library?"
Julio was being dragged along for the ride. "Hermione, I really don't-"
"Shh, you won't be like Ron, come with me and Aeyron."
Ora frowned, "I hope not."
Johanna nodded
Aeyron did an about face and looked at Hermione, "Perhaps it would be best if I went in for a quick minute and checked it out... I mean just so you don't hurt yourself." Aeyron amended, trying to keep his plan rolling.
Hermione stopped short and flared her nostrils. "I can take care of myself thank you," she said harshly. "Honestly, why do you boys think that I need the help when half the time I'm the one saving you."
Kathrine was walking when she was shoved by something, when she turned nothing was there..."Oh great...now i am imagining things" she said when she passed Aeyron and Hermione, looking quite freaked out
Johanna looked at Ora "So wanna head inside?"
"That looks like the library... Come on." Aeyron said, pushing past Kathrine, "Kath, we already knew you were crazy, no need to prove it." He whispered as he went by, giving a joking smile. "Huh, kinda stuck." Aeyron pushed his hardest against the heavy wooden doors. "Okay, I saw this once in a movie, let's try it." Aeyron walked to the top of the stairs, gauged the distance and ran full force at the doors, jumping up as if to kick them down... but never made contact, just before his feet would have touched the doors, they flew open and swallowed, closing just as swiftly behind him.
"Oh hell," Julio muttered. Hermione took out her wand in an instant. "Great, first bad thing to happen. I had a bad feeling about this."
"What spell are you going to use?" he asked her.
"I don't know, Katherin, any ideas?" Hermione frowned.
Ora grabbed Johanna's hand and lead her inside, "no need to ask me."
Kathrine looked confused "Nope....What the hell just happened"
Johanna laughed a bit
Hermione grunted in frustration. "That door just ate Aeyron," Hermione said. "I wish Harry was here. No, I can do this."
She pointed her wand and cast a few spells but none of them seemed to work.
Julio took out his wand but had no ideas. Instead, he walked up to the door and tried to kick it open again.
Kathrine sighed "I knew i was not just imagining things earlier...." she said and she walked up to the door
"Okay, not funny guys, Carpe Retractum." Aeyron said, pulling his wand from his sleeve and pulling at the door, but it wouldn't budge. "Open the door!" He went and pounded hard, doing nothing but hurting his hand. "Ahh... that hurt." He said, gripping his hand. He whirled around as he heard a rustle behind him, he looked and saw a book lying on the ground. 'what the heck?' He went and picked up the book looking at the first page, The art and tools of warfare, Author Unknown, underneath he saw a picture of a delicate but dangerous-looking sword. "Looks real." he said, throwing it over his shoulder but instead of a thud, hearing the clang of metal and the slice of it being picked up.
Hermione's ears pricked up. "Aeyron? Can you hear me?" she yelled.
"What was that thud? Kat, are you alright?" Julio seemed to only have questions.
Kathrine studied the door "I think i can find a way in...thank god dad was a paranormal investigator..." she muttered
"Muggle or magical?" Hermione asked. She starting to feel she was surrounded by Luna Lovegoods.
Aeyron heard the faint noise of Hermione's voice, he was backing toward the door not taking his eyes off of the sword that was now doing acrobatics in the air while he himself conjured one... "Okay, guys? I'm sorry about my plan to make the books attack anyone that came in here, but WHY AND HOW THE HECK ARE YOU DOING THIS!!!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, blocking the now offensive sword going for his heart, fighting off the attacks with greace and finesse, as artfully as a dancer. "JOKE'S OVER! STOP THE SWORD AND LET ME OUT!!!" He yelled at them, still thinking they were playing a trick on him.
Hermione started to bang on the door. "Aeyron? What are you talking about? We aren't doing anything but trying to get you out!"
Kathrine tapped three times in the middle of the door, then pushed on it and it slid open a bit, but it seemed as if it was being blocked off by something, as if barricaded
"How did you-- Oh nevermind, seems blocked," Hermione bit her lower lip. She pointed her wand and uttered another spell.
Kathrine smirked "You learn a thing or two when you dad works with this stuff." she said "Damn...its barricaded...this is gonna be harder then i thought"
Julio pointed his wand, "Depr--"
Hermione cupped her hand over his mouth, "Don't use that spell! You'll destroy the door and hurt everyone! Think will you?"
She pointed her wand again, "Wingardium Leviosa". She waited to see if that took out the obstruction.
Kathrine looked at them "Magic is not gonna work...but y'all are welcome to keep trying" she said "The Paranormal are not altered by magic." she said "And yes i am aware how crazy i sound."
Hermione put her wand down and for a moment was going to say something, but she held back. "Do you mean to tell me that what's happening here isn't magical?"
"Where's Luna when you need her?" Julio muttered.
"Nope. No magic at all. If it were we would be able to tell. and also, All you have to do is go through the door at this point." Kathrine said "Just walk right through, there is nothing in front of the door, at first i thought there was but if there had been i would not be able to do this." Kathrine walked right into the Library with out another word.
"Remind me again if I'm awake," Julio said with a blink.
"You're awake and so am I. I just don't believe this..." Hermione muttered. She walked through the door leaving Julio behind.
"H-Hey wait! What if something attacks me out here! Wait!" he whined as he too threw himself through the door.
"TELL THAT TO THE SWORD AN INCH AWAY FROM MY THROAT!!! HOW CAN THIS HAPPEN WITHOUT ANY MAGICAL INTERFEREN-- Ouch, you son of a... GUN! YOU GUYS HAPPY NOW, YOU GOT ME!!!" Aeyron yealled, still fighting off the sword while stemming the blood... "OH, YOU EVEN GOT THE BOOKS TO BARRICADE THE DOOR, ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME???" Aeyron did a hard slice and caused the sword to hit the ground and shatter. "It's about... crap." Aeyron looked up and saw 50 more of the swords appear in midair, all poised and ready for battle. "Tergeo, there got the blood off. I need another sword." Aeyron conjured one and yelled back out the door. "OKAY, I BELIEVE YOU NOW, THIS IS WAY TOO MUCH... EVEN FOR HERMIONE. SO HURRY UP!!!" Aeyron yelled, now defending himself from the onslaught of swords, getting minor scratches as he fought hard, but ignoring them.
Kathrine sighed "Whatever is in the mansion feels threatened..."
Lacey hesitated, staring at the mansion. "I dunno about this, Luce..."
Lucy nodded in agreement with Lacey. "Me either... It's weird."
Lacey smiled weakly and went to take her sister's hand. "C'mon. I need to find Mike."
Lucy giggled, "Oooh, Mike!"
Lacey playfully punched Lucy on the arm. "Shut up. What if he is around here? He'll hear you!"
The two continued to search for the rest.
"Aeyron!" Hermione rushed forward, "Are you alright?" She pointed her wand but then bit her lower lip. "Right, no magic huh?"
Julio muttered something under his breath. "Now what? Do we just run?"
Kathrine sighed "I am gonna sound crazy again...just a warning" she said then looked up "Is someone here??" she said loudly "Can you tell us a name??" she said again "We mean no harm, we do not wish to hurt you!" she said.
The moment she finished the swords stopped and the books fell
"Thank god that worked...i didnt think it would" Kathrine said
"You know... Thank goodness for those practicings I did in the Shrieking Shack." Aeyron said, checking out his own blood-stained shirt and bleeding cuts... but mainly looking at the bloody gash on his upper shoulder. "that's gonna leave a mark." He said, fainting promptly afterward, from the loss of blood.
"damn it" Kathrine said turning to Aeyron
Aeyron moaned as he stirred, his muscles ached and his body felt warm... except the chills running through every nerve and vein in his body. "Kathrine... I need to tell you something. Come here, so I can whisper it to you." Aeyron said, conjuring what little strength he had, 'please stay with me long enough to tell her' he pleaded.
Kathrine looked confused and bent down by him "Yes? whats it?"
In a shadow beneath the lightning (start of halloween story)
There was no doubt that what had been heard but not seen was not of this world. We could hear it screaming. We ran until our legs were filled with battery acid and our lungs drowned themselves in fear. Surely things like this only existed in a juvenile nightmare? There was no way this was happening. Impossible.
Scrambling through dense woodland in the harsh weather we saw the lights of an old gothic building. Knowing the beast was behind us we threw ourselves over the victorian gates, caked in mud and lascerations, soaked like sewer rats we attacked the mansion door like the proverbial gas man from hell.
Scrambling through dense woodland in the harsh weather we saw the lights of an old gothic building. Knowing the beast was behind us we threw ourselves over the victorian gates, caked in mud and lascerations, soaked like sewer rats we attacked the mansion door like the proverbial gas man from hell.
Sunday 13 September 2009
Friday 11 September 2009
Your idea of real is classic coke
You are insane. I mean that; You are literally, lurridly, a lunatic. You are off your head. Out of your tree. Round the bend. Either that , or you cannot have thought logically about what you are saying. im sorry to bring this up, and I swore I never would, but do you remember the last time you tried to look after something?
It was a fucking lovers quarrel. 70 percent of all murders are committed by cohabitees or former cohabitees.
It was a fucking lovers quarrel. 70 percent of all murders are committed by cohabitees or former cohabitees.
Tuesday 8 September 2009
a word
Iv always been one for the old quote 'actions speak louder than words blah blah blah'
but they just fucking dont unless you shoot someone.
I wonder who writes the script for life, and what kind of tv they watched before they were assigned this crazy project. Mayhaps (haha love that word) we are the actors and writers in this story without even knowing. Maybe some of us are aware of the power.
Dont you hate it when youre typing and you get back ache? I mean seriously Im not even a fully fledged writer but this is torture!
Developing a style of writing is a bit difficult. its like the words are all there but you just have to throw them together with your own character tattooed on.
Like that TV ad - 'he knows text communication can be a real turn on' bullshit but true. You see if you have character it doesnt necessarily mean that when you write it will entertain readers... but usually it does.
Some would argue that a writer has to travel the world and do amazing wonderful dangerous things (power of the triad) surely someone whos really fucking boring cant write a good novel? Imagination can take you so far I guess; Leave this world behind and all that jazz...
Where was I? Swear to God I turn 23 and my brain falls out. OH YES Internet communication!
Not necessarily social networking (evidently the devil) Im talking about this strange new scary world known as video phonecalls. Something I expected to be all over the 21st century like a rash on a chapped vagina. Now you see sci fi movies and video communication seems to be the way in which the government controls you. (back to the future George Orwells 1984) We see that us poor humans have no privacy which leads to agitation and stress panic attacks and shorter life expectancy. Oddly enough I think this new scary technology is something technologically advanced people have to deal with. Basically if youre self conscious about walking along a beach with no top on holding hands with your girlfriend then youre not going to get very far.
As a young lad me and a few friends had a concept called 'no shame'. Epic huh? Basically we would assign tasks to eachother that would require what poser gangsters call BALLS. Anything absolutely anything you would never ever do (hard to think of now eh?) and yeah its basically truth or dare without the truth... what Im getting at is that THIS is what people have to do for themselves. Not just for the adrenalin and serotonin but for the benefit of existence. I like to be lazy but if Im going to do something it has to be at least a bit dangerous, I need to know theres going to be some kind of kick out of it or at least a giggle. For me its easy to see how a lot of people fall into the BORED trap. Too much of a pussy to do something, or just completely have no imagination at all. No longer do people think ''im gonna jump off something really high - no wait i might hurt myself'' now the imagination simply doesnt care.
but they just fucking dont unless you shoot someone.
I wonder who writes the script for life, and what kind of tv they watched before they were assigned this crazy project. Mayhaps (haha love that word) we are the actors and writers in this story without even knowing. Maybe some of us are aware of the power.
Dont you hate it when youre typing and you get back ache? I mean seriously Im not even a fully fledged writer but this is torture!
Developing a style of writing is a bit difficult. its like the words are all there but you just have to throw them together with your own character tattooed on.
Like that TV ad - 'he knows text communication can be a real turn on' bullshit but true. You see if you have character it doesnt necessarily mean that when you write it will entertain readers... but usually it does.
Some would argue that a writer has to travel the world and do amazing wonderful dangerous things (power of the triad) surely someone whos really fucking boring cant write a good novel? Imagination can take you so far I guess; Leave this world behind and all that jazz...
Where was I? Swear to God I turn 23 and my brain falls out. OH YES Internet communication!
Not necessarily social networking (evidently the devil) Im talking about this strange new scary world known as video phonecalls. Something I expected to be all over the 21st century like a rash on a chapped vagina. Now you see sci fi movies and video communication seems to be the way in which the government controls you. (back to the future George Orwells 1984) We see that us poor humans have no privacy which leads to agitation and stress panic attacks and shorter life expectancy. Oddly enough I think this new scary technology is something technologically advanced people have to deal with. Basically if youre self conscious about walking along a beach with no top on holding hands with your girlfriend then youre not going to get very far.
As a young lad me and a few friends had a concept called 'no shame'. Epic huh? Basically we would assign tasks to eachother that would require what poser gangsters call BALLS. Anything absolutely anything you would never ever do (hard to think of now eh?) and yeah its basically truth or dare without the truth... what Im getting at is that THIS is what people have to do for themselves. Not just for the adrenalin and serotonin but for the benefit of existence. I like to be lazy but if Im going to do something it has to be at least a bit dangerous, I need to know theres going to be some kind of kick out of it or at least a giggle. For me its easy to see how a lot of people fall into the BORED trap. Too much of a pussy to do something, or just completely have no imagination at all. No longer do people think ''im gonna jump off something really high - no wait i might hurt myself'' now the imagination simply doesnt care.
I can put music to words
But words evade me
I sit
under the apple tree
I can do anything i put my mind to
but remind me
what i want to do again?
I could sing a song for lovers
but define love in this world
Beneath the city
theres a river
and a girl that takes nobody with her
Lost within her own mind
suffocated by those
not of her own kind
in my heart there is a quiver
but arrows i cannot fire
makes me shiver
the cost of my desire
But words evade me
I sit
under the apple tree
I can do anything i put my mind to
but remind me
what i want to do again?
I could sing a song for lovers
but define love in this world
Beneath the city
theres a river
and a girl that takes nobody with her
Lost within her own mind
suffocated by those
not of her own kind
in my heart there is a quiver
but arrows i cannot fire
makes me shiver
the cost of my desire
Saturday 29 August 2009
idea
Set in the near future the exploits of gun sharks (hitmen) Finnigan "Finny" Sinister and Ramone "Ray" Dexter in the city of Downlode, sprawled across Central Europe "like a hit and run victim". Occasional stories have taken place in other cities, or off planet. The size of Downlode is never specified in the strip, but it appears to stretch from Spain to eastern Europe. The appearance of the city largely depends on the artist of the particular storyline, often it appears to be styled after the former soviet bloc, with many statues and wide boulevards, plus dilapidated cars such as Trabants and VW Beetles. However in other strips the city looks clean and futuristic, like Mega City One. The story "London Town" shows that London and Great Britain still exist separate from Downlode.
In early strips the police used hover-cars with "Polizei" written on the side, however more recently they have been seen driving generic saloon cars resembling Ford Crown Victorias. These are painted in a similar way to the cars of the LAPD and have DCPD written on them. Sinister and Dexter themselves drive a 1950s Edsel, this started out as a hardtop but in the story "Alibi Of Broadway" had its roof torn off and was re-built as a convertible. This car is frequently crashed into things or shot at but somehow is always repaired perfectly in time for the next story. Hover Car technology seems to exist too, and in some stories appears to have been retrofitted to old cars such as Checker Cabs. Advanced robots are occasionally seen in the stories, but appear to be very rare, and are usually controlled by humans and are unable to think for themselves. Some characters also have several cyborg implants, including Ramone himself who has a "Fony Headcase" television implanted into his eyes. In one story a malfunction in this temporarily gave him the ability to see in infra-red and detect a small hole in a crime-bosses' personal forcefield (referred to as a very rare and expensive technology).
The atmosphere of the stories suggests a time of economic recession, with many references made to sophisticated army hardware being sold off to the highest bidder, usually criminal gangs. Additionally many strips feature the city looking worn and run-down even in "rich" areas. In the story "Mother 'Lode And The Red Admiral" it is mentioned that Korea has developed cold fusion and become the world's richest nation.
Ramone uses a pair of "Ruger Nines", often drawn a silver 9mm pistols, or occasionally as revolvers. Sinister uses a "Minigun" which is nothing like the real-world minigun. In most stories it resembles a small pump-action shotgun and can fire different kinds of bullets, including high explosives. In other stories (with different artists) the gun looks like a large double-barrelled revolver or a small machine pistol.
In early stories the duo work as freelance hit-men, taking contracts from their "fact-totem", a PDA-like device, and killing people for money. The kingpin of crime in these early stories is Holy Moses Tanenbaum.
Eventually a large price is put on the head of Holy Moses himself, expecting Sinister and Dexter to take the contract he sends hit-men to kill them, after killing these they decide to take the contract, as their reputation would dictate they have to take the toughest jobs. After a battle which results in the duo both being nearly killed Holy Moses is killed and the person who put out the contract is revealed to be his wife, Demi Octavo.
A brief period of gang violence follows as various gangs attempt to take control of the city's underworld for themselves. Eventually The Czar, moblord of the Russian mafia calls a conference of gang leaders in an attempt to resolve the situation and hires Sinister and Dexter as security for the meeting. During the meeting, Sinister and Dexter discover that, naturally, every single gang has made plans to assassinate the other gang leaders. After these are fought off The Czar reveals "himself" to be a robot double outfitted with a close-focus nuke in its chest cavity. With the gang leaders dead The Czar is able to take over the underworld for himself.
Following the gang-war, Sinister and Dexter are hired by an accountant working for a Mr Bronsky "Ballpeen" Hammer as protection to 'expedite' the handover of the year-end accounts. The rendezvous between the accountant and Mr Hammer's men in Fred Quimby Municipal Park is violently interrupted by the Department of Taxation, causing the "Infamous Audit Showdown of '66". As a result of the carnage, Sinister and Dexter decide to take a holiday and The Czar recommends that they visit a nightclub in Asbestopol known as the Bawdwalk. At the club a pair of hired muscle known as Buddy Boom and Buddy Bing are threatening the club owner, Kilopatra, so Sinister and Dexter step in to help him and scare off the heavies, thus picking themselves up a holiday job.
Kilopatra sends the pair off to pay a visit to local mob-king Philly O'Fisch, as it was he who sent the two heavies after Kilopatra. Sinister and Dexter kill the two Buddies and warn Philly off Kilopatra under threat of taking one of the many contracts that Philly has on his head. When they return from this job, the run into Demi Octavo who is at the nightclub under a pseudonym, she tells the pair that the word spread that she was the one who put out the hit on Holy Moses Tanembaum so she decided to escape Downlode. The Czar suggested that she head to the Bawdwalk, which convinces Sinister and Dexter that The Czar has set them all up.
The pair invade Philly's island lair and kill him and all of his minions and return to Downlode to take out the Czar using a giant, cyborg alligator that ticks. After this, Demi Octavo takes over as mob-queen and hires Sinister and Dexter as her personal guardians.
Stories from now on generally revolve around them protecting her empire, though occasionally they also take contracts from other people. During this time Demi's kid sister, Billi Octavo, decides to become a Gunshark, but a misunderstanding results in her killing some respected city dignitaries. During the ensuing police chase Sinister explains the unwritten "Gunshark Code" that they never kill cops or "innocents". Later Billi hacks into the police database and finds the dignitaries she killed where actually guilty of "perverted" crimes and it had been covered up. She released this data to the media and the police where forced to abandon the hunt. It is also revealed most rank-and-file police officers actually support Gunsharks, because they only kill other criminals which results in less criminals overall.
Later Dexter begins to see visions on his "Headcase" TV which suggest he is a wanted serial killer, the Blemvoi Butcher. It turns out the actual killer also has a "Headcase" and the signals have got confused. The Butcher lures the pair and two police officers, including the "by-the-book" Tracey Weld, into a trap. Dexter kills the butcher and this eventually leads to his becoming romantically involved with Weld.
Later Demi Octavo is killed and the city once again descends into turmoil. During this time the pair "train" another Gunshark, Kal Kutter.
Another mob boss, called Apellido, begins to take over the city and sends a huge squad of "bullet monkeys" (inferior but cheaper gunsharks) after Billi Octavo. Sinister attempts to get her out of the city but the other hitmen are chasing the two. Meanwhile Dexter is with Detective Weld when he hears the news and rushes out of the house with his guns drawn. By chance he is seen by a police officer who tells him to freeze, before going to get out his handcuffs. Dexter misinterprets this as the officer going for his gun and kills him, thereby breaking the gunshark code. He escapes but doesn't get very far before being surrounded. Fearful of being tortured in prison a standoff ensues, and he is eventually shot by Weld. Sinister is last seen speeding out of the city, with a wounded Billi octavo in the car, still pursued by the bullet monkeys.
The story line at the end (over the instalments "...and Death shall have no dumb minions" and "Festive Spirits") seemed to suggest that the deadly duo where both dead. However, this didn't stop some one-page "gag strips" from appearing.
This issue has now been addressed in passing as part of the twist in the, initially apparently unconnected, series Malone. The "Festive Spirits" story, in which both appeared as skeletal zombies who where apparently ignored by their old friends, is hinted at merely being one of Malone's dreams.
After surviving the showdown with his boss, Apellido, Sinister changed his face and took drugs to try to forget his past, fleeing offworld to Generica. It wasn't until Rocky Rhodes told him of his true identity that he returned to Downlode City to get revenge on Apellido making sure he knows that he's now alive. It was also revealed that Ramone also survived the shooting but was rendered quadriplegic.
Sinister allowed himself to be captured and was sent to the same prison as Ramone, with a plan to escape. After enlisting the help of two other prisoners, he executes the breakout and escapes with Ramone in a wheelchair. Heading to an old doctor friend it is revealed Ramone has been kept immobilised by an implant in his spine. With this removed, and surviving an attack by another Apellido hit-squad, the head for a run-down lockup. There Sinister stashed the Edsel and their old guns. They collect these and drive back into Downlode to again work as gunsharks, bringing the series full circle.
Finnigan Rapunzel Sinister, is Irish hitman and known to be superstitious. He is also married.
Ramone Algonquin Winnibago Dexter is Spanish and is known to be a "fashion guru" and womanizer.
Associates include:
Satan Brink (Deceased), fellow gunshark and street fighter from Tasmania
Anopheles Bunkum (Deceased), former police detective
Floppy Dick (Deceased), a friend of the hitmen
Billy Fix, a Tourettes sufferer in Download Penitentiary
Wendy Go, Rocky Rhodes' wife and barmaid at the Bar None
Carrie Hosanna, Finnigan's wife and fellow gunshark
"Nervous" Rex Monday (Deceased), snitch and friend to the hitmen
Billi Octavo, younger sister of Demi and friend to the hitmen
Demi Octavo (Deceased), girlfriend of "Holy" Moses Tannebaum and former crime boss
Rocky Rhodes, a former cop and friend, owner of the Bar None
Lizzy Solemnis, a singer on the planet Generica
The Surgeon, a surgeon for the criminal underworld
Clayton Tushman, Sinister & Dexter's Lawyer
Tonto Vega (Deceased), a Sioux Indian and wannabe gunshark
Tracy Weld, a rookie cop and Ramone's girlfriend
Deakus Whisk, a bank robber in Download Penitentiary
SteamPunk Willy, a former gunshark whose brain was encased in a total body prosthesis.
Kal Cutter, former student of Sinister & Dexter
Major villains include:
The Apellido Mob:
Apellido, current Crime Lord of Download City
Ronko, Apellido's chief enforcer. Described as being "like the bog roll: Rough, abrasive and hard on everyone's ass". Killed by Dexter.
Lars Maybach, Apellido's chief banker
Charlie Bigelow, one of Apellido's enforcer
Chevy Brakes, a minor enforcer
The Mover's Mob:
"Holy" Moses Tannebaum (The Mover), first Crime Lord of Download City. Was killed by the duo on the orders of Demi Octavo. Recently, an another "Holy" Moses revealed himself to be "The Mover"
Miss Deeds, The Mover's assistant
John Croak, his Second-in-command
Cane Broadus, Kal Cutter's partner in crime
Telemachus Gore (Deceased), corrupt cop and former Crime Lord/Marshal
Serge, a gangster on the planet Generica
In early strips the police used hover-cars with "Polizei" written on the side, however more recently they have been seen driving generic saloon cars resembling Ford Crown Victorias. These are painted in a similar way to the cars of the LAPD and have DCPD written on them. Sinister and Dexter themselves drive a 1950s Edsel, this started out as a hardtop but in the story "Alibi Of Broadway" had its roof torn off and was re-built as a convertible. This car is frequently crashed into things or shot at but somehow is always repaired perfectly in time for the next story. Hover Car technology seems to exist too, and in some stories appears to have been retrofitted to old cars such as Checker Cabs. Advanced robots are occasionally seen in the stories, but appear to be very rare, and are usually controlled by humans and are unable to think for themselves. Some characters also have several cyborg implants, including Ramone himself who has a "Fony Headcase" television implanted into his eyes. In one story a malfunction in this temporarily gave him the ability to see in infra-red and detect a small hole in a crime-bosses' personal forcefield (referred to as a very rare and expensive technology).
The atmosphere of the stories suggests a time of economic recession, with many references made to sophisticated army hardware being sold off to the highest bidder, usually criminal gangs. Additionally many strips feature the city looking worn and run-down even in "rich" areas. In the story "Mother 'Lode And The Red Admiral" it is mentioned that Korea has developed cold fusion and become the world's richest nation.
Ramone uses a pair of "Ruger Nines", often drawn a silver 9mm pistols, or occasionally as revolvers. Sinister uses a "Minigun" which is nothing like the real-world minigun. In most stories it resembles a small pump-action shotgun and can fire different kinds of bullets, including high explosives. In other stories (with different artists) the gun looks like a large double-barrelled revolver or a small machine pistol.
In early stories the duo work as freelance hit-men, taking contracts from their "fact-totem", a PDA-like device, and killing people for money. The kingpin of crime in these early stories is Holy Moses Tanenbaum.
Eventually a large price is put on the head of Holy Moses himself, expecting Sinister and Dexter to take the contract he sends hit-men to kill them, after killing these they decide to take the contract, as their reputation would dictate they have to take the toughest jobs. After a battle which results in the duo both being nearly killed Holy Moses is killed and the person who put out the contract is revealed to be his wife, Demi Octavo.
A brief period of gang violence follows as various gangs attempt to take control of the city's underworld for themselves. Eventually The Czar, moblord of the Russian mafia calls a conference of gang leaders in an attempt to resolve the situation and hires Sinister and Dexter as security for the meeting. During the meeting, Sinister and Dexter discover that, naturally, every single gang has made plans to assassinate the other gang leaders. After these are fought off The Czar reveals "himself" to be a robot double outfitted with a close-focus nuke in its chest cavity. With the gang leaders dead The Czar is able to take over the underworld for himself.
Following the gang-war, Sinister and Dexter are hired by an accountant working for a Mr Bronsky "Ballpeen" Hammer as protection to 'expedite' the handover of the year-end accounts. The rendezvous between the accountant and Mr Hammer's men in Fred Quimby Municipal Park is violently interrupted by the Department of Taxation, causing the "Infamous Audit Showdown of '66". As a result of the carnage, Sinister and Dexter decide to take a holiday and The Czar recommends that they visit a nightclub in Asbestopol known as the Bawdwalk. At the club a pair of hired muscle known as Buddy Boom and Buddy Bing are threatening the club owner, Kilopatra, so Sinister and Dexter step in to help him and scare off the heavies, thus picking themselves up a holiday job.
Kilopatra sends the pair off to pay a visit to local mob-king Philly O'Fisch, as it was he who sent the two heavies after Kilopatra. Sinister and Dexter kill the two Buddies and warn Philly off Kilopatra under threat of taking one of the many contracts that Philly has on his head. When they return from this job, the run into Demi Octavo who is at the nightclub under a pseudonym, she tells the pair that the word spread that she was the one who put out the hit on Holy Moses Tanembaum so she decided to escape Downlode. The Czar suggested that she head to the Bawdwalk, which convinces Sinister and Dexter that The Czar has set them all up.
The pair invade Philly's island lair and kill him and all of his minions and return to Downlode to take out the Czar using a giant, cyborg alligator that ticks. After this, Demi Octavo takes over as mob-queen and hires Sinister and Dexter as her personal guardians.
Stories from now on generally revolve around them protecting her empire, though occasionally they also take contracts from other people. During this time Demi's kid sister, Billi Octavo, decides to become a Gunshark, but a misunderstanding results in her killing some respected city dignitaries. During the ensuing police chase Sinister explains the unwritten "Gunshark Code" that they never kill cops or "innocents". Later Billi hacks into the police database and finds the dignitaries she killed where actually guilty of "perverted" crimes and it had been covered up. She released this data to the media and the police where forced to abandon the hunt. It is also revealed most rank-and-file police officers actually support Gunsharks, because they only kill other criminals which results in less criminals overall.
Later Dexter begins to see visions on his "Headcase" TV which suggest he is a wanted serial killer, the Blemvoi Butcher. It turns out the actual killer also has a "Headcase" and the signals have got confused. The Butcher lures the pair and two police officers, including the "by-the-book" Tracey Weld, into a trap. Dexter kills the butcher and this eventually leads to his becoming romantically involved with Weld.
Later Demi Octavo is killed and the city once again descends into turmoil. During this time the pair "train" another Gunshark, Kal Kutter.
Another mob boss, called Apellido, begins to take over the city and sends a huge squad of "bullet monkeys" (inferior but cheaper gunsharks) after Billi Octavo. Sinister attempts to get her out of the city but the other hitmen are chasing the two. Meanwhile Dexter is with Detective Weld when he hears the news and rushes out of the house with his guns drawn. By chance he is seen by a police officer who tells him to freeze, before going to get out his handcuffs. Dexter misinterprets this as the officer going for his gun and kills him, thereby breaking the gunshark code. He escapes but doesn't get very far before being surrounded. Fearful of being tortured in prison a standoff ensues, and he is eventually shot by Weld. Sinister is last seen speeding out of the city, with a wounded Billi octavo in the car, still pursued by the bullet monkeys.
The story line at the end (over the instalments "...and Death shall have no dumb minions" and "Festive Spirits") seemed to suggest that the deadly duo where both dead. However, this didn't stop some one-page "gag strips" from appearing.
This issue has now been addressed in passing as part of the twist in the, initially apparently unconnected, series Malone. The "Festive Spirits" story, in which both appeared as skeletal zombies who where apparently ignored by their old friends, is hinted at merely being one of Malone's dreams.
After surviving the showdown with his boss, Apellido, Sinister changed his face and took drugs to try to forget his past, fleeing offworld to Generica. It wasn't until Rocky Rhodes told him of his true identity that he returned to Downlode City to get revenge on Apellido making sure he knows that he's now alive. It was also revealed that Ramone also survived the shooting but was rendered quadriplegic.
Sinister allowed himself to be captured and was sent to the same prison as Ramone, with a plan to escape. After enlisting the help of two other prisoners, he executes the breakout and escapes with Ramone in a wheelchair. Heading to an old doctor friend it is revealed Ramone has been kept immobilised by an implant in his spine. With this removed, and surviving an attack by another Apellido hit-squad, the head for a run-down lockup. There Sinister stashed the Edsel and their old guns. They collect these and drive back into Downlode to again work as gunsharks, bringing the series full circle.
Finnigan Rapunzel Sinister, is Irish hitman and known to be superstitious. He is also married.
Ramone Algonquin Winnibago Dexter is Spanish and is known to be a "fashion guru" and womanizer.
Associates include:
Satan Brink (Deceased), fellow gunshark and street fighter from Tasmania
Anopheles Bunkum (Deceased), former police detective
Floppy Dick (Deceased), a friend of the hitmen
Billy Fix, a Tourettes sufferer in Download Penitentiary
Wendy Go, Rocky Rhodes' wife and barmaid at the Bar None
Carrie Hosanna, Finnigan's wife and fellow gunshark
"Nervous" Rex Monday (Deceased), snitch and friend to the hitmen
Billi Octavo, younger sister of Demi and friend to the hitmen
Demi Octavo (Deceased), girlfriend of "Holy" Moses Tannebaum and former crime boss
Rocky Rhodes, a former cop and friend, owner of the Bar None
Lizzy Solemnis, a singer on the planet Generica
The Surgeon, a surgeon for the criminal underworld
Clayton Tushman, Sinister & Dexter's Lawyer
Tonto Vega (Deceased), a Sioux Indian and wannabe gunshark
Tracy Weld, a rookie cop and Ramone's girlfriend
Deakus Whisk, a bank robber in Download Penitentiary
SteamPunk Willy, a former gunshark whose brain was encased in a total body prosthesis.
Kal Cutter, former student of Sinister & Dexter
Major villains include:
The Apellido Mob:
Apellido, current Crime Lord of Download City
Ronko, Apellido's chief enforcer. Described as being "like the bog roll: Rough, abrasive and hard on everyone's ass". Killed by Dexter.
Lars Maybach, Apellido's chief banker
Charlie Bigelow, one of Apellido's enforcer
Chevy Brakes, a minor enforcer
The Mover's Mob:
"Holy" Moses Tannebaum (The Mover), first Crime Lord of Download City. Was killed by the duo on the orders of Demi Octavo. Recently, an another "Holy" Moses revealed himself to be "The Mover"
Miss Deeds, The Mover's assistant
John Croak, his Second-in-command
Cane Broadus, Kal Cutter's partner in crime
Telemachus Gore (Deceased), corrupt cop and former Crime Lord/Marshal
Serge, a gangster on the planet Generica
Friday 21 August 2009
Hold On
you keep your distance i can't deny you i've got
the feeling can't satisfy you i've got your
picture on the wall i got the picture, long gone
you keep your wishes i'll keep my feelings there
goes another one that kept me breathing i'm
waiting for you i know your leaving i still adore
you you never leave me hold on, i found another
way to let you go away hold on, you found another
way to bleed my soul away the things you told me
to hear you speak i'm burning slowly i'm growing
weak you bring me closer to yesterday yesterday's
a million miles away why can't you hear me? why
can't i sleep and i don't understand what keeps me
breathing i'm waiting for you i know your leaving
i'll still adore you you'll never need me hold on,
i found another way to let you go away? hold on,
you found another way to bleed my soul? away
the feeling can't satisfy you i've got your
picture on the wall i got the picture, long gone
you keep your wishes i'll keep my feelings there
goes another one that kept me breathing i'm
waiting for you i know your leaving i still adore
you you never leave me hold on, i found another
way to let you go away hold on, you found another
way to bleed my soul away the things you told me
to hear you speak i'm burning slowly i'm growing
weak you bring me closer to yesterday yesterday's
a million miles away why can't you hear me? why
can't i sleep and i don't understand what keeps me
breathing i'm waiting for you i know your leaving
i'll still adore you you'll never need me hold on,
i found another way to let you go away? hold on,
you found another way to bleed my soul? away
Saturday 15 August 2009
Thursday 13 August 2009
Crystal Clear
The night sky was crystal clear and all the stars were out. it was absolutely beautiful. i could see my breath. it was colder than we had been used to. There was a definite chill in the air. Sweat ran down the side of my face and I started to shiver.
Eyes take a long time to adjust in darkness. The cones in your eyes enable you to see in the daytime, giving colour and perception. But theyre no good at night. What takes over then are the rods on the egde of your irises. They are angled at 45 degrees because of the convex shape of the eye, so if you look straight at something at night you dont really see it, its a haze. you have to look above it or around it so you can line up these rods, which then will give you a picture. it takes 45 minutes or so for them to become fully effective, but you start to see better after 5. And what you see at first and what you see five minutes later are two very different things.
Eyes take a long time to adjust in darkness. The cones in your eyes enable you to see in the daytime, giving colour and perception. But theyre no good at night. What takes over then are the rods on the egde of your irises. They are angled at 45 degrees because of the convex shape of the eye, so if you look straight at something at night you dont really see it, its a haze. you have to look above it or around it so you can line up these rods, which then will give you a picture. it takes 45 minutes or so for them to become fully effective, but you start to see better after 5. And what you see at first and what you see five minutes later are two very different things.
In my psyche theres 2 dice, and each day when I wake they are thrown.
This is my theory.
A revolutionary challenge to the widely held notion that intelligence is a single general capacity possessed by every individual to a greater or lesser extent.
helps to explain how and why different people seem to learn in different ways and possess different skills and talents.
But that idea having been formed, it is rarely carried forward save by the most innovative of teachers and thinkers. Why does a person, for instance, remember particular teachers from elementary or secondary school days rather clearly, while others not at all?
Potential Isolation by Brain Damage
This establishes an autonomy of the function of a particular kind of intelligence from others, thus helping demonstrate uniqueness and separation.
The Existence of Idiot Savants, Prodigies, etc.
That certain kinds of intelligence can be highly developed in some to an extraordinary level also helps demonstrate uniqueness - for instance, rarely is the musical genius likewise a genius in all (or even many) other intellectual areas.
An Identifiable Core Operation or Set of Operations
There must be something that the intelligence processes or does in a particular way differently from others - for example, we process mathematical information and linguistic information in different ways.
Distinctive Development History
Intelligence, even if gifted naturally, has a development line that can be traced from earlier to later proficiency.
Evolutionary History and Plausibility
Intelligence can evolve to higher levels (this is readily seen in science and mathematics); likewise, intelligence can be lost in different arenas.
Experimental Data Support
Intelligences can be isolated and studied - linguistic and spatial abilities are often used as experiments easily documented.
Psychometric Finding Support
While the IQ test is hardly the final arbiter, there are ways of materially charting the relative state of intelligences of people in comparison with one another.
Susceptibility to Symbolic Expression
Intelligences should have a means of symbolic expression and transmission - linguistic intelligence can use words spoken and written; musical intelligence can use written and sound symbols, etc.
Linguistic Intelligence
Musical Intelligence
Logical-Mathematical Intelligence
Spatial Intelligence
Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence
Personal Intelligence
Most of these items are fairly clear - we know that linguistic intelligence involves language, words, speech, and the understanding and use of such tools. Similarly, logical-mathematical intelligence is fairly well understood. It is on the basis of these two intelligences that most of Western academics is founded and evaluated - even the primary measuring instruments such as SAT tests recognise the difference between mathematical and linguistic abilities by separating out those tests and scoring them differently.
Musical intelligence is likewise understood. It is an intelligence people can tap into for enjoyment even if the sophisticated understanding of theory is not present, unlike the main part of logical-mathematical intelligence.
Spatial and bodily-kinesthetic intelligences are sensed by athletes, dancers, and others who use their bodies in ways that exceed normal abilities. These are intelligences that are closely related. A quarterback or a ballet dancer needs to have both an awareness of body motions and abilities as well as sense of the space involved for the action. However, these are separate intelligences. An architect may have a great sense for spatial requirements and have no real bodily-kinesthetic intelligence.
It involves an ability to interact with others and with oneself. Perhaps Einstein is a classic example of a savant in logical-mathematical intelligence while being impaired in the personal intelligence arena - not having a good sense of himself and his relationships with others, with time, with place, etc. Religious leaders and diplomatic persons tend to be high in this intelligence.
A hunter needs good bodily-kinesthetic abilities as well as good spatial abilities honed to a high degree. City-dwellers tend to need linguistic and logical-mathematical abilities to a higher degree.
`As compared with hundred or even thirty years ago, talk about the development of intelligence, the realisation of human potential, and the role of education is very much in the international air.'
The ways in which all kinds of intelligence, including the very-difficult-to-teach personal intelligence, can be cultivated. First is the requirement of recognition of different kinds of intelligence and the ways in which students respond. In my theology class, we had students who were divinity students, counseling students, and church music students. To have required the same pattern of assignment for each of these groups would have been unfair. So, one person turned in an audio tape as accompaniment for her theology paper. Another student framed her theological discussion in terms of a counseling session. These permitted the students to tap into their stronger intelligences while still learning what was valuable from the basic course materials.
We all function in our own way. We are all different but the same.
This is my theory.
A revolutionary challenge to the widely held notion that intelligence is a single general capacity possessed by every individual to a greater or lesser extent.
helps to explain how and why different people seem to learn in different ways and possess different skills and talents.
But that idea having been formed, it is rarely carried forward save by the most innovative of teachers and thinkers. Why does a person, for instance, remember particular teachers from elementary or secondary school days rather clearly, while others not at all?
Potential Isolation by Brain Damage
This establishes an autonomy of the function of a particular kind of intelligence from others, thus helping demonstrate uniqueness and separation.
The Existence of Idiot Savants, Prodigies, etc.
That certain kinds of intelligence can be highly developed in some to an extraordinary level also helps demonstrate uniqueness - for instance, rarely is the musical genius likewise a genius in all (or even many) other intellectual areas.
An Identifiable Core Operation or Set of Operations
There must be something that the intelligence processes or does in a particular way differently from others - for example, we process mathematical information and linguistic information in different ways.
Distinctive Development History
Intelligence, even if gifted naturally, has a development line that can be traced from earlier to later proficiency.
Evolutionary History and Plausibility
Intelligence can evolve to higher levels (this is readily seen in science and mathematics); likewise, intelligence can be lost in different arenas.
Experimental Data Support
Intelligences can be isolated and studied - linguistic and spatial abilities are often used as experiments easily documented.
Psychometric Finding Support
While the IQ test is hardly the final arbiter, there are ways of materially charting the relative state of intelligences of people in comparison with one another.
Susceptibility to Symbolic Expression
Intelligences should have a means of symbolic expression and transmission - linguistic intelligence can use words spoken and written; musical intelligence can use written and sound symbols, etc.
Linguistic Intelligence
Musical Intelligence
Logical-Mathematical Intelligence
Spatial Intelligence
Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence
Personal Intelligence
Most of these items are fairly clear - we know that linguistic intelligence involves language, words, speech, and the understanding and use of such tools. Similarly, logical-mathematical intelligence is fairly well understood. It is on the basis of these two intelligences that most of Western academics is founded and evaluated - even the primary measuring instruments such as SAT tests recognise the difference between mathematical and linguistic abilities by separating out those tests and scoring them differently.
Musical intelligence is likewise understood. It is an intelligence people can tap into for enjoyment even if the sophisticated understanding of theory is not present, unlike the main part of logical-mathematical intelligence.
Spatial and bodily-kinesthetic intelligences are sensed by athletes, dancers, and others who use their bodies in ways that exceed normal abilities. These are intelligences that are closely related. A quarterback or a ballet dancer needs to have both an awareness of body motions and abilities as well as sense of the space involved for the action. However, these are separate intelligences. An architect may have a great sense for spatial requirements and have no real bodily-kinesthetic intelligence.
It involves an ability to interact with others and with oneself. Perhaps Einstein is a classic example of a savant in logical-mathematical intelligence while being impaired in the personal intelligence arena - not having a good sense of himself and his relationships with others, with time, with place, etc. Religious leaders and diplomatic persons tend to be high in this intelligence.
A hunter needs good bodily-kinesthetic abilities as well as good spatial abilities honed to a high degree. City-dwellers tend to need linguistic and logical-mathematical abilities to a higher degree.
`As compared with hundred or even thirty years ago, talk about the development of intelligence, the realisation of human potential, and the role of education is very much in the international air.'
The ways in which all kinds of intelligence, including the very-difficult-to-teach personal intelligence, can be cultivated. First is the requirement of recognition of different kinds of intelligence and the ways in which students respond. In my theology class, we had students who were divinity students, counseling students, and church music students. To have required the same pattern of assignment for each of these groups would have been unfair. So, one person turned in an audio tape as accompaniment for her theology paper. Another student framed her theological discussion in terms of a counseling session. These permitted the students to tap into their stronger intelligences while still learning what was valuable from the basic course materials.
We all function in our own way. We are all different but the same.
I love where I come from. 2 memories spring to mind where words simply cannot express emotions I have felt when returning home.
One was when the van broke down on the m62 it was raining so much water got into the engine, the rain was so heavy the windscreen wipers did nothing. The electrics went there were no lights and now no wipers. The traffic was halting to a still, people in their vehicles were consciously aware of the chances of an accident increasing. We pulled over through fear of death.
Ever imagined what its like going on holiday without travel insurance then suddenly find yourself falling off a roof?
Then out of nowhere the rain stopped the van sorted itself out and we were half an hour away from liverpool. the sky was just beautiful.
Coming back to Liverpool is just undescribable, its like what you imagine a city behind a waterfall to look like. I dont get homesick but the feeling of being on your way back to your soil can make any problem seem unimportant.
A Big open vast road with pink and orange heavens, the rainswept tarmac reflecting paradise straight back up.
I can remember the plane back from Amsterdam. This sheet of cloud below as I looked out the window broke. Not many people may have seen what I did or felt like I did when I did. (lots of I's and dids there wtf)
The stereotype of a grey rainy depressing England do not exist in my mind, well not Liverpool anyway. The only way I can describe it is an Imeopian Paradise, and ofcourse when youre under the magnifying glass life gets bland. But my whole personna was altered. I couldnt imagine how someone like me could find life more beautiful, but I do a little more every day.
Since I started on a high I guess I can end on a bitter note like the lemon after a short of tequila.
My chest aches for the people who see no beauty or hope in the world, for those people who institutionalise themselves (is that even the right word or context??)
Basically dont seal yourself off from the world and stop looking at your feet! Im sure your shoes arent that awesome anyway.
Life is beautiful, stop fighting it and enjoy.
One was when the van broke down on the m62 it was raining so much water got into the engine, the rain was so heavy the windscreen wipers did nothing. The electrics went there were no lights and now no wipers. The traffic was halting to a still, people in their vehicles were consciously aware of the chances of an accident increasing. We pulled over through fear of death.
Ever imagined what its like going on holiday without travel insurance then suddenly find yourself falling off a roof?
Then out of nowhere the rain stopped the van sorted itself out and we were half an hour away from liverpool. the sky was just beautiful.
Coming back to Liverpool is just undescribable, its like what you imagine a city behind a waterfall to look like. I dont get homesick but the feeling of being on your way back to your soil can make any problem seem unimportant.
A Big open vast road with pink and orange heavens, the rainswept tarmac reflecting paradise straight back up.
I can remember the plane back from Amsterdam. This sheet of cloud below as I looked out the window broke. Not many people may have seen what I did or felt like I did when I did. (lots of I's and dids there wtf)
The stereotype of a grey rainy depressing England do not exist in my mind, well not Liverpool anyway. The only way I can describe it is an Imeopian Paradise, and ofcourse when youre under the magnifying glass life gets bland. But my whole personna was altered. I couldnt imagine how someone like me could find life more beautiful, but I do a little more every day.
Since I started on a high I guess I can end on a bitter note like the lemon after a short of tequila.
My chest aches for the people who see no beauty or hope in the world, for those people who institutionalise themselves (is that even the right word or context??)
Basically dont seal yourself off from the world and stop looking at your feet! Im sure your shoes arent that awesome anyway.
Life is beautiful, stop fighting it and enjoy.
Tuesday 11 August 2009
Monday 10 August 2009
Sunday 2 August 2009
A thermodynamics professor had written a take home exam for his graduate students. It had one question:
"Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)? Support your answer with a proof."
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools off when it expands and heats up when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So, we need to know the rate that souls are moving into Hell and the rate they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today.
Some of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there are more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all people and all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially.
Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand as souls are added.
This gives two possibilities.
#1 If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
#2 Of course, if Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.
So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Ms. Therese Banyan during my GCSE years, "That it will be a cold night in Hell before I sleep with you," and take into account the fact that I still have not succeeded in having sexual relations with her, then #2 cannot be true, and so Hell is exothermic.
The student got the only A.
"Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)? Support your answer with a proof."
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools off when it expands and heats up when it is compressed) or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So, we need to know the rate that souls are moving into Hell and the rate they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today.
Some of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there are more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all people and all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially.
Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand as souls are added.
This gives two possibilities.
#1 If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
#2 Of course, if Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.
So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Ms. Therese Banyan during my GCSE years, "That it will be a cold night in Hell before I sleep with you," and take into account the fact that I still have not succeeded in having sexual relations with her, then #2 cannot be true, and so Hell is exothermic.
The student got the only A.
Wednesday 29 July 2009
Sunday 26 July 2009
Trying to remember to remember
But you're not here
I sit and rot peacefully
There seems to be no way around this
its been about a year
You're not here.
I sit and rot peacefully
There seems to be no way around this
its been about a year
You're not here.
I am a haunted man. Haunted by ghosts of days dead and gone; haunted with regrets and by the faces and voices of those who were dear to me: the well remembered friends of old, who have passed into the beyond, where let us hope, there is peace and joy. I beliieve there is, beyond these fleeting scenes, that place where the good and excellent friends whom one misses so greatly have gone, and that they are not wholly unconscious of what passes here. dear friends; perhaps they know us even better now than then; and it may be they rejoice in our joys. They cannot sorrow over-much our sorrows; because if they know anything at all, they must know how small a space of time it is.
This consoles me a very great deal for the turmoil of these days, when life, as i see it, is very like some overpopulated ant heap kicked over by a wanton foot: the unhappy inhabitants of it hurrying hither and thither without any sense of direction. But i am by no means an unhappy man; indeed no. Life is the greatest of all practical jokes, if you can have the wit to see it.
And I, beg to say that my regrets, whatever they may be, are certainly not for misspent youth.
They are the regrets which must come to all, whether saint or sinner.
I love to be haunted in the manner I have described, by the thoughts of those dear ones. Thank God for ones friends. Without them, and the memory of them when they are gone, what would this be but some pitiful pilgrimage?
And, as for those who were not friendly; for the scornful, the spiteful, the malicious; well I supopose they have gone tot heir own place. Let us say to the bosom of Ahrimanes. This may be unchristian; but it is eminently human.
This consoles me a very great deal for the turmoil of these days, when life, as i see it, is very like some overpopulated ant heap kicked over by a wanton foot: the unhappy inhabitants of it hurrying hither and thither without any sense of direction. But i am by no means an unhappy man; indeed no. Life is the greatest of all practical jokes, if you can have the wit to see it.
And I, beg to say that my regrets, whatever they may be, are certainly not for misspent youth.
They are the regrets which must come to all, whether saint or sinner.
I love to be haunted in the manner I have described, by the thoughts of those dear ones. Thank God for ones friends. Without them, and the memory of them when they are gone, what would this be but some pitiful pilgrimage?
And, as for those who were not friendly; for the scornful, the spiteful, the malicious; well I supopose they have gone tot heir own place. Let us say to the bosom of Ahrimanes. This may be unchristian; but it is eminently human.
Thursday 9 July 2009
.
DEATH, ALWAYS CRUEL
by: Dante Alighieri (1265-1321)
DEATH, always cruel, Pity's foe in chief,
Mother who brought forth grief,
Merciless judgment and without appeal!
Since thou alone hast made my heart to feel
This sadness and unweal,
My tongue upbraideth thee without relief.
And now (for I must rid thy name of ruth)
Behoves me speak the truth
Touching thy cruelty and wickedness:
Not that they be not known; but ne'ertheless
I would give hate more stress
With them that feed on love in very sooth.
Out of this world thou hast driven courtesy,
And virtue, dearly prized in womanhood;
And out of youth's gay mood
The lovely lightness is quite gone through thee.
Whom now I mourn, no man shall learn from me
Save by the measure of these praises given.
Whoso deserves not Heaven
May never hope to have her company.
by: Dante Alighieri (1265-1321)
DEATH, always cruel, Pity's foe in chief,
Mother who brought forth grief,
Merciless judgment and without appeal!
Since thou alone hast made my heart to feel
This sadness and unweal,
My tongue upbraideth thee without relief.
And now (for I must rid thy name of ruth)
Behoves me speak the truth
Touching thy cruelty and wickedness:
Not that they be not known; but ne'ertheless
I would give hate more stress
With them that feed on love in very sooth.
Out of this world thou hast driven courtesy,
And virtue, dearly prized in womanhood;
And out of youth's gay mood
The lovely lightness is quite gone through thee.
Whom now I mourn, no man shall learn from me
Save by the measure of these praises given.
Whoso deserves not Heaven
May never hope to have her company.
Yesterday
It feels like everything is back to normal. I say normal. But my version of normal is constant change. before I get used to something I prefer to be thrown into something Im totally out of my depth in. I hate the mundane and predictable. I hate arguing with myself. I hate the way i hate things. I hate how little I really know about the world.
There are things I probably hate that I cant comprehend.
I find it fascinating how one day you can feel alone in the world, then out of nowhere something beautiful happens and the coin gets flipped.
You can have all the money in the world but no time, all the time in the world but no money.
You could know a thousand people by name and still never have a single friend you can rely on.
You could have a gift and squander it. You could see a gift as a nuisance or one of your worst skills and still people would envy you for it.
There are a lot of talentless people out there. Lots of lost souls not even knowing what theyre searching for. Incapable of communication, hideous in appearance with minds beyond coherency or comprehension. Why do we fail to notice the world we live in and eachother.
Walking bags of flesh.
There are things I probably hate that I cant comprehend.
I find it fascinating how one day you can feel alone in the world, then out of nowhere something beautiful happens and the coin gets flipped.
You can have all the money in the world but no time, all the time in the world but no money.
You could know a thousand people by name and still never have a single friend you can rely on.
You could have a gift and squander it. You could see a gift as a nuisance or one of your worst skills and still people would envy you for it.
There are a lot of talentless people out there. Lots of lost souls not even knowing what theyre searching for. Incapable of communication, hideous in appearance with minds beyond coherency or comprehension. Why do we fail to notice the world we live in and eachother.
Walking bags of flesh.
Not my problem.
He said she said bullshit. No thankyou.
US AND THEM WTF gtf out of here with that shit.
Is it more important to like someone or respect them?
Do words really matter?
Anger is a great energy. It can be a fuel for change, without these feelings we fail to progress.
Sometimes getting involved and trying to help can have the complete opposite effect. This is why I dont give a flying fuck.
Im a happy person it takes a lot to piss me off, just dont do it.
Im at a point where I see great things ahead of me, and a lot of things behind me trying to drag me down. Just a lot of juvenile shit I could care less about. Infact I dont care at all.
Sometimes I feel like a puppy. A puppy that has grown into a strong snarling wolf that has abandoned the house of his old dead master.
So many good things happening in my life, a lot of characters and individuals that make me laugh and appreciate laughter, as opposed to a nervous chuckle forced from uncomfortable silence. No longer am I thinking ''is this it?'' more like ''this is it''.
I love life
I feel like im running through the slaughterhouse shoving hanging carcasses aside, slipping on the bloodstained iced over floor. Breathing in the cold dead putrid air. Through blue and grey mist I ignore the rousse of coagulation staining my pure white clothes. Outside she waits making a phone call. I throw her the keys, remove the butchers overalls and drive away into the blinding sunlight one eye a squint.
To the beach. Everyone is there. The silhouette of a fox in the dusk watching us as we joke around the fire. We talk of how silly we were back then, and how we conquered lifes challenges and made it through. There is no resentment here; no jealousy no anger or lust.
I wake to a familiar alarm and press snooze but Im still there, still happy with everything Ive achieved. I still have love for every character Ive had the honour and privilege of meeting.
I think back to days before our world warped, My heart sinks in an instant. After all the planning hard work and perseverance... Im still here.
Love doesnt increase in value the longer you hold onto it, infact it does quite the opposite.
Set it free
Watch it fly.
Go out there and be the best person you can be, be yourself and revel in it. Never change for anyone elses needs. May you stumble where others fell and spit on those who failed. Rip out the throats of those who try to manipulate you. Bludgeon those who corner you and try to rape your rights. Scratch and bite for every ounce of your worth. You are strong. You are what exists now did then and ever will. If they want to hurt you kill them first.
So what if people change, if you dont like it find others. Its not your job to change them back or fix what isnt broken. If you being you is too much. Move on.
Its so easy to get stuck. Its not hard to become a victim. We love to blame others for things we destroy, and we will insist we are not wrong even when enough time has passed for the world to forget.
Gossip
Conversations
Arguments, agreements, advice, answers,
Articulate announcements
Its only talk
Babble, burble, banter, bicker bicker bicker
Brouhaha, boulderdash, ballyhoo
Its only talk
Comments, cliches, commentary, controversy
Chatter, chit-chat, chit-chat, chit-chat,
Conversation, contradiction, criticism
Its only talk
Cheap talk
Debates, discussions
These are words with a d this time
Dialogue, dualogue, diatribe,
Dissention, declamation
Double talk, double talk
Talk, talk, its all talk
Too much talk
Small talk
Talk that trash
Expressions, editorials, expugnations, exclamations, enfadulations
Its all talk
US AND THEM WTF gtf out of here with that shit.
Is it more important to like someone or respect them?
Do words really matter?
Anger is a great energy. It can be a fuel for change, without these feelings we fail to progress.
Sometimes getting involved and trying to help can have the complete opposite effect. This is why I dont give a flying fuck.
Im a happy person it takes a lot to piss me off, just dont do it.
Im at a point where I see great things ahead of me, and a lot of things behind me trying to drag me down. Just a lot of juvenile shit I could care less about. Infact I dont care at all.
Sometimes I feel like a puppy. A puppy that has grown into a strong snarling wolf that has abandoned the house of his old dead master.
So many good things happening in my life, a lot of characters and individuals that make me laugh and appreciate laughter, as opposed to a nervous chuckle forced from uncomfortable silence. No longer am I thinking ''is this it?'' more like ''this is it''.
I love life
I feel like im running through the slaughterhouse shoving hanging carcasses aside, slipping on the bloodstained iced over floor. Breathing in the cold dead putrid air. Through blue and grey mist I ignore the rousse of coagulation staining my pure white clothes. Outside she waits making a phone call. I throw her the keys, remove the butchers overalls and drive away into the blinding sunlight one eye a squint.
To the beach. Everyone is there. The silhouette of a fox in the dusk watching us as we joke around the fire. We talk of how silly we were back then, and how we conquered lifes challenges and made it through. There is no resentment here; no jealousy no anger or lust.
I wake to a familiar alarm and press snooze but Im still there, still happy with everything Ive achieved. I still have love for every character Ive had the honour and privilege of meeting.
I think back to days before our world warped, My heart sinks in an instant. After all the planning hard work and perseverance... Im still here.
Love doesnt increase in value the longer you hold onto it, infact it does quite the opposite.
Set it free
Watch it fly.
Go out there and be the best person you can be, be yourself and revel in it. Never change for anyone elses needs. May you stumble where others fell and spit on those who failed. Rip out the throats of those who try to manipulate you. Bludgeon those who corner you and try to rape your rights. Scratch and bite for every ounce of your worth. You are strong. You are what exists now did then and ever will. If they want to hurt you kill them first.
So what if people change, if you dont like it find others. Its not your job to change them back or fix what isnt broken. If you being you is too much. Move on.
Its so easy to get stuck. Its not hard to become a victim. We love to blame others for things we destroy, and we will insist we are not wrong even when enough time has passed for the world to forget.
Gossip
Conversations
Arguments, agreements, advice, answers,
Articulate announcements
Its only talk
Babble, burble, banter, bicker bicker bicker
Brouhaha, boulderdash, ballyhoo
Its only talk
Comments, cliches, commentary, controversy
Chatter, chit-chat, chit-chat, chit-chat,
Conversation, contradiction, criticism
Its only talk
Cheap talk
Debates, discussions
These are words with a d this time
Dialogue, dualogue, diatribe,
Dissention, declamation
Double talk, double talk
Talk, talk, its all talk
Too much talk
Small talk
Talk that trash
Expressions, editorials, expugnations, exclamations, enfadulations
Its all talk
Wednesday 8 July 2009
jets
you dont need an education to know what class youre in.
I said 'girl hey what do you do' she said 'not much but im sure its more than you'
I said 'girl hey what do you do' she said 'not much but im sure its more than you'
Sunday 5 July 2009
T
The rain gives wind
A desire i may never know
In all honesty frustrated
Happy where I am.
Looking for no answers
A dirty glance
In a moment of desperation
Regardless of communication
She moves in.
Its true you've got to know what you want and go get it.
They will always be chasing you
Dont forget it.
Draw your days
Those you assume are looking out for you may well not.
Pleasant suprise
Some friends you forgot
And some you thought were not
Their ranks fall
What
A
Timely demise!
You dont remember them at all.
A desire i may never know
In all honesty frustrated
Happy where I am.
Looking for no answers
A dirty glance
In a moment of desperation
Regardless of communication
She moves in.
Its true you've got to know what you want and go get it.
They will always be chasing you
Dont forget it.
Draw your days
Those you assume are looking out for you may well not.
Pleasant suprise
Some friends you forgot
And some you thought were not
Their ranks fall
What
A
Timely demise!
You dont remember them at all.
Sunday 31 May 2009
fish bowl
This is gonna seem kinda strange, but indulge me. I want you to picture a fishbowl. Goldfish, party of one. If it helps, go ahead and shut your eyes. Maybe take a few deep breaths, but don’t go snoozing on me, we've got a little bit of ground to cover. Got the fishbowl in mind? Good.
I think it might have already been established that I'm a fairly simple man. Though I'm not eleven years old, when I use my mind’s beady little eye to conjure up a fishbowl, I might as well be. Where the more right-brained among us (freaks of nature, as they are) might be able to craft a flawless representation of a fishbowl, capturing the subtle motion of the crystal clear ripples playing at the water's surface and each small aquamarine pebble's perfect placement at the bottom of the glass, I see little more than a cartoon.
My water is represented by a lackluster stand-in, the scalloped line. My goldfish is the kind of crude approximation you might find on the back of a mid 90's Tercel, either proclaiming the existence of God, or offering a challenge via Darwinism. The only bit of dramatic flair my brain is willing to offer comes by way of three small circles in stasis. These de-oxygenated triplets, my cortex assures me, more than sufficiently convey the physiological complexities that exist to extract and excrete gases, thereby providing the goldfish with both life and buoyancy. Like I said, fairly simple.
Whether or not your own bears a striking resemblance to mine and we're now forever bonded as shame brothers, or you concocted something that's now giving you an unbridled sense of creative superiority doesn't matter all that much. You can go ahead and stow that memory. We're going to spend the next few paragraphs adding a new definition to the word "fishbowl." Here's the figurative from my own dictionary (I'm not claiming to have written or published a dictionary, mind you, I just happen to own one).
"Fishbowl - a place open to public view and criticism : there was no privacy in his office; it was a fishbowl."
That's the kind of fishbowl I'm talking about. Of course by this definition, nearly every office at Bungie fits the bill. Typically when you take your seat inside the studio, everybody can see in, and everybody can see out. If you're a person prone to being distracted by shiny objects onscreen, you'd probably bump into a lot of folks while you were making your way around the study. That's why we don't do public tours. Insurance, see.
But though the analogy could be stretched to encompass most of the studio, the proper noun, "Fishbowl," belongs to the joint occupying a pretty sizable chunk of the corner near the studio's front entrance. In fact were it not for the soundproofing, someone with a keen sense of hearing might be able to make out, say, the ratchet of the front door’s handle being tested by potential perpetrators. Perpetrators whose fathers help them get in on the act. Where was I? Ah yes, aside from its proximity to the main entrance, the Fishbowl also boasts some serious hardware that other, more traditional fishbowls don’t. There's a latticework of heavy wrought iron beams with a handful of enormous bolts to moor the room's framework to the exterior walls, and thick, heavy-looking panes of virtually soundproof, green opaque glass that serve as both wall and work surface for some stuff you more than likely won’t ever see. Super secret type stuff.
I think it might have already been established that I'm a fairly simple man. Though I'm not eleven years old, when I use my mind’s beady little eye to conjure up a fishbowl, I might as well be. Where the more right-brained among us (freaks of nature, as they are) might be able to craft a flawless representation of a fishbowl, capturing the subtle motion of the crystal clear ripples playing at the water's surface and each small aquamarine pebble's perfect placement at the bottom of the glass, I see little more than a cartoon.
My water is represented by a lackluster stand-in, the scalloped line. My goldfish is the kind of crude approximation you might find on the back of a mid 90's Tercel, either proclaiming the existence of God, or offering a challenge via Darwinism. The only bit of dramatic flair my brain is willing to offer comes by way of three small circles in stasis. These de-oxygenated triplets, my cortex assures me, more than sufficiently convey the physiological complexities that exist to extract and excrete gases, thereby providing the goldfish with both life and buoyancy. Like I said, fairly simple.
Whether or not your own bears a striking resemblance to mine and we're now forever bonded as shame brothers, or you concocted something that's now giving you an unbridled sense of creative superiority doesn't matter all that much. You can go ahead and stow that memory. We're going to spend the next few paragraphs adding a new definition to the word "fishbowl." Here's the figurative from my own dictionary (I'm not claiming to have written or published a dictionary, mind you, I just happen to own one).
"Fishbowl - a place open to public view and criticism : there was no privacy in his office; it was a fishbowl."
That's the kind of fishbowl I'm talking about. Of course by this definition, nearly every office at Bungie fits the bill. Typically when you take your seat inside the studio, everybody can see in, and everybody can see out. If you're a person prone to being distracted by shiny objects onscreen, you'd probably bump into a lot of folks while you were making your way around the study. That's why we don't do public tours. Insurance, see.
But though the analogy could be stretched to encompass most of the studio, the proper noun, "Fishbowl," belongs to the joint occupying a pretty sizable chunk of the corner near the studio's front entrance. In fact were it not for the soundproofing, someone with a keen sense of hearing might be able to make out, say, the ratchet of the front door’s handle being tested by potential perpetrators. Perpetrators whose fathers help them get in on the act. Where was I? Ah yes, aside from its proximity to the main entrance, the Fishbowl also boasts some serious hardware that other, more traditional fishbowls don’t. There's a latticework of heavy wrought iron beams with a handful of enormous bolts to moor the room's framework to the exterior walls, and thick, heavy-looking panes of virtually soundproof, green opaque glass that serve as both wall and work surface for some stuff you more than likely won’t ever see. Super secret type stuff.
life is beautiful
. I’ve never really appreciated life.
I chose to run away from problems, always taking the easy way out.
[[Tomorrow You're gonna have to live with the things you say]]
A new days marching through the door
I HATE change. Just like Holden Caulfield.
But the truth is Everything changes… you can’t stop it. It just happens.
God, he will not save you
Is not, he ill not save you
Here, he will not save you from this
You can’t live your life thinking everything will be handed to you
Or that if you fuck up, it will all be fixed.
walking tall with nothing to fear
I’m not going to sit here and tell you how to live
But I’ve gone through more then anyone should
I don’t have any pity on my life
And I don’t have any regrets.
the world must know my story, so long amory
Please drive me home one last time
I’ve seen too many people throw away their lives
I’ll be damned if I threw mine away
victims pay the cost eventually,
The cost lets see y o u r l i f e
Relationships
had too many to count
not on my mind right now
im single, and im enjoying it
i like someone... but its complicated
ive been torn apart one too many times
You could have been all I wanted
But you weren't honest
Now get in the ground
You choked off the surest of favors
But if you really loved me
You would have endured my world
Make a impact on my life, and on others
Change my world.
h e l p u s t h i s w o r l d ' s n o w b r e a k i n g
I chose to run away from problems, always taking the easy way out.
[[Tomorrow You're gonna have to live with the things you say]]
A new days marching through the door
I HATE change. Just like Holden Caulfield.
But the truth is Everything changes… you can’t stop it. It just happens.
God, he will not save you
Is not, he ill not save you
Here, he will not save you from this
You can’t live your life thinking everything will be handed to you
Or that if you fuck up, it will all be fixed.
walking tall with nothing to fear
I’m not going to sit here and tell you how to live
But I’ve gone through more then anyone should
I don’t have any pity on my life
And I don’t have any regrets.
the world must know my story, so long amory
Please drive me home one last time
I’ve seen too many people throw away their lives
I’ll be damned if I threw mine away
victims pay the cost eventually,
The cost lets see y o u r l i f e
Relationships
had too many to count
not on my mind right now
im single, and im enjoying it
i like someone... but its complicated
ive been torn apart one too many times
You could have been all I wanted
But you weren't honest
Now get in the ground
You choked off the surest of favors
But if you really loved me
You would have endured my world
Make a impact on my life, and on others
Change my world.
h e l p u s t h i s w o r l d ' s n o w b r e a k i n g
Monday 27 April 2009
Death on the cards
i had a dream i had it made
sail your ships out of the way
i had a dream i had it made
wont you sail away with me
death in the city
im just another lost cause
that empty old city
with death on the cards
death on the cards
death on the cards
sail your ships out of the way
i had a dream i had it made
wont you sail away with me
death in the city
im just another lost cause
that empty old city
with death on the cards
death on the cards
death on the cards
Sunday 26 April 2009
Thursday 23 April 2009
Something
I feel something
Way back in the pit of my psyche
where snakes burrow
and witches cackle
and worlds clouded by darkness
lay undiscovered
to rediscover this animation
to break through with this communication
the walls are being battered
and the fake ideals shattered
make no sense at all
now the world makes sense to me
after the years of not growing
and getting the best of me
i took the time reached the borderline
and now i am fit
i can feel the world alive
to rediscover communication
and still believe that i am here
with fake ideals shattered
ill come undone
ill take back my dignity
my pride my fears the rest of me
ill take away your pain
and tell you i want you
but you cant feel the way i feel
our minds work so differently
and your world is still undiscovered
maybe not there at all
and i feel something
i can see the fire
the red and yellow cities of indigo plateus
these places in which i dream
i wake feeling far from lost
and i feel something
Way back in the pit of my psyche
where snakes burrow
and witches cackle
and worlds clouded by darkness
lay undiscovered
to rediscover this animation
to break through with this communication
the walls are being battered
and the fake ideals shattered
make no sense at all
now the world makes sense to me
after the years of not growing
and getting the best of me
i took the time reached the borderline
and now i am fit
i can feel the world alive
to rediscover communication
and still believe that i am here
with fake ideals shattered
ill come undone
ill take back my dignity
my pride my fears the rest of me
ill take away your pain
and tell you i want you
but you cant feel the way i feel
our minds work so differently
and your world is still undiscovered
maybe not there at all
and i feel something
i can see the fire
the red and yellow cities of indigo plateus
these places in which i dream
i wake feeling far from lost
and i feel something
I wanted to write about empathy
and misanthropy
leaning to entropy
for all the careless whispers in our lives
choking on the fumes of dead businessmen
we lie here waiting to die
but it doesnt happen
Our society has fallen
Our children have failed
the world is a disgusting place.
Injesting eachother
taking in recycled goods
stagnant and old we hobble where we should leap
we gore on rotten meat we cannibalise eachother
We sow our wild oats in anothers luxuries
If youre going down youre taking me with you
I know this, you know this. But does she?
Your disease
your life
your existence
to plague me
is that all you will ever be happy with?
You can walk all over me like family never would
And you can deny me anything you can deny me anything you think i will love
the fact is I am life
you can take
and ill keep on giving
because i will never stop
and you will get tired of destroying everything you touch eventually.
and misanthropy
leaning to entropy
for all the careless whispers in our lives
choking on the fumes of dead businessmen
we lie here waiting to die
but it doesnt happen
Our society has fallen
Our children have failed
the world is a disgusting place.
Injesting eachother
taking in recycled goods
stagnant and old we hobble where we should leap
we gore on rotten meat we cannibalise eachother
We sow our wild oats in anothers luxuries
If youre going down youre taking me with you
I know this, you know this. But does she?
Your disease
your life
your existence
to plague me
is that all you will ever be happy with?
You can walk all over me like family never would
And you can deny me anything you can deny me anything you think i will love
the fact is I am life
you can take
and ill keep on giving
because i will never stop
and you will get tired of destroying everything you touch eventually.
but yeah im not really bothered about losing my facebook, ill probably get it back if they can be assed mailing me back.
But still the good stuff is still safe Projectplaylist.com/rozzer
oh yeah, the only real important thing in life.
ok im gonna post some random stuff off notepad and wordpad now so yay
'You can't write unless everything is right'
he was a genious what a waste - Jim from star trek
Misanthropy = all people are shit boring and stupid.
Penwald ambidextrous
Someone sent me this and i liked it... i love u with every piece of my heart i cant wait to see u hug u kiss u and be with u
I overheard this on a bus I was in the elevator with him today. It was like taking a ride to heaven with him.
she also then started talking about how much she loves big cocks .. but yeah she was an individual.
As long as there is life, there is hope. "To thine ownself be true"
and smile it makes others wonder. Work like you dont need the money,
Love like you've never been hurt & Dance like nobodys watching!
This I love
How strangers on the street can smile and look for more than a second
Without fear of rejection
which is mans greatest downfall.
There is nothing worse than an Individual with style and character
But is afraid of talking or making a scene of themselves.
We are our own worst enemy and critique
The last thing you need is someone else fucking with your day.
Make yourself a cup of coffee
watch the shit on tv
listen to music just like everybody
I dont know about you
But Iv always had this feeling
that i have a purpose a meaning
Im sure my existence isnt pointless
I am sure
Im happy with this
And in this hour I feel like I've accomplished something.
I count the days for my purpose
Then I realise its all infront of me.
Teachers preachers carers and spies
all the cover ups and white lies
for every argument that seems worthless
and every punch we throw
what goes around comes around
And you may never know
more shite:
every second of your life is amazing picture you didnt take
im a muslim but i think jesus would have a drink with me hed be cool hed talk to me - Mike Tyson
whats wrong with you do ya fancy me or something?
Agalloch idk why i wrote that
umop ap!sdn upside down
This is the most recent thing i wrote
here i am
ontop of this mountain
looking down
all i see
is whats infront of me
and thats you
in your world
in my mind
taking everything for granted
pursuing me
hating me
and i dont even know it
this makes my world fall down
failing to see
that everything you will ever be
is nothing without me
i am your polarity
meh its a 30 second poem
Main Entry: mag·nan·i·mous
Pronunciation: \mag-'na-n?-m?s\
Function: adjective
Etymology: Latin magnanimus, from magnus great + animus spirit — more at much, animate
Date: 1567
1 : showing or suggesting a lofty and courageous spirit
2 : showing or suggesting nobility of feeling and generosity of mind
— mag·nan·i·mous·ly adverb
— mag·nan·i·mous·ness noun
you have eyes but you do not see
Im the big money hustler! remember when you didnt buy me that coffee? you didnt think i noticed right? Now i got the money what the fucks up now!
search homeless mike on youtube theres a cool kid with dreads totally taking the piss out of this guy
THIS ISNT MINE
You Are So Beautiful
Doped Up And Numbingly, Willingly Sedated.
Lifeless And Glass Eyes,
Gaze Into A Lonely World Of Casualties.
Your Body Lay Broken On The Cold Bathroom Floor.
Your Body Lay Broken.
You Were So Beautiful,
Looking For Thrills With Open Arms And Venomous Smile.
Your Life Equated Only Agony,
For Years Breathing Tragedy.
Go To Sleep My Darling,
Never May You Wake Again.
I Promise This Is For Your Own Good.
You Were So Gutless.
You Were So Callous.
You Were So Spineless.
You Fucking Deserve This.
But still the good stuff is still safe Projectplaylist.com/rozzer
oh yeah, the only real important thing in life.
ok im gonna post some random stuff off notepad and wordpad now so yay
'You can't write unless everything is right'
he was a genious what a waste - Jim from star trek
Misanthropy = all people are shit boring and stupid.
Penwald ambidextrous
Someone sent me this and i liked it... i love u with every piece of my heart i cant wait to see u hug u kiss u and be with u
I overheard this on a bus I was in the elevator with him today. It was like taking a ride to heaven with him.
she also then started talking about how much she loves big cocks .. but yeah she was an individual.
As long as there is life, there is hope. "To thine ownself be true"
and smile it makes others wonder. Work like you dont need the money,
Love like you've never been hurt & Dance like nobodys watching!
This I love
How strangers on the street can smile and look for more than a second
Without fear of rejection
which is mans greatest downfall.
There is nothing worse than an Individual with style and character
But is afraid of talking or making a scene of themselves.
We are our own worst enemy and critique
The last thing you need is someone else fucking with your day.
Make yourself a cup of coffee
watch the shit on tv
listen to music just like everybody
I dont know about you
But Iv always had this feeling
that i have a purpose a meaning
Im sure my existence isnt pointless
I am sure
Im happy with this
And in this hour I feel like I've accomplished something.
I count the days for my purpose
Then I realise its all infront of me.
Teachers preachers carers and spies
all the cover ups and white lies
for every argument that seems worthless
and every punch we throw
what goes around comes around
And you may never know
more shite:
every second of your life is amazing picture you didnt take
im a muslim but i think jesus would have a drink with me hed be cool hed talk to me - Mike Tyson
whats wrong with you do ya fancy me or something?
Agalloch idk why i wrote that
umop ap!sdn upside down
This is the most recent thing i wrote
here i am
ontop of this mountain
looking down
all i see
is whats infront of me
and thats you
in your world
in my mind
taking everything for granted
pursuing me
hating me
and i dont even know it
this makes my world fall down
failing to see
that everything you will ever be
is nothing without me
i am your polarity
meh its a 30 second poem
Main Entry: mag·nan·i·mous
Pronunciation: \mag-'na-n?-m?s\
Function: adjective
Etymology: Latin magnanimus, from magnus great + animus spirit — more at much, animate
Date: 1567
1 : showing or suggesting a lofty and courageous spirit
2 : showing or suggesting nobility of feeling and generosity of mind
— mag·nan·i·mous·ly adverb
— mag·nan·i·mous·ness noun
you have eyes but you do not see
Im the big money hustler! remember when you didnt buy me that coffee? you didnt think i noticed right? Now i got the money what the fucks up now!
search homeless mike on youtube theres a cool kid with dreads totally taking the piss out of this guy
THIS ISNT MINE
You Are So Beautiful
Doped Up And Numbingly, Willingly Sedated.
Lifeless And Glass Eyes,
Gaze Into A Lonely World Of Casualties.
Your Body Lay Broken On The Cold Bathroom Floor.
Your Body Lay Broken.
You Were So Beautiful,
Looking For Thrills With Open Arms And Venomous Smile.
Your Life Equated Only Agony,
For Years Breathing Tragedy.
Go To Sleep My Darling,
Never May You Wake Again.
I Promise This Is For Your Own Good.
You Were So Gutless.
You Were So Callous.
You Were So Spineless.
You Fucking Deserve This.
Tuesday 7 April 2009
April
I saw pictures on facebook of people i used to know having a jolly good time and it made me a little bit ...... something.
Still out with the old in with the new! Tornadoes in America Earthquakes in Italy and Floods in England. Is this the end?
Still out with the old in with the new! Tornadoes in America Earthquakes in Italy and Floods in England. Is this the end?
Monday 9 February 2009
Turning over a new leaf
WTF does that mean anyway how many leaves can you turn, and differences between old leaves and new leaves please?
So its febuary ... febuary febuary im sure in the oldern days it was called february.
Anyway I feel like I am able to write once again, you know when the weight of the world slips off your shoulders you should write a bit i guess. It cant hurt.
2008 was like the ying and yang year of my life so many good things happened which may have links to or lead to or consequented in the inevitable bad things in which were probably going to happen anyway. Music is liking me again as i have had the wonderous fortune of finding ways of letting good music find me once again. The feeling i get from the guitar is better than ever before. Im lazy I got a load of songs but theyre all in my head and if i cant be a star I wont get out of bed.
So yeah theres a conspiracy theory .... recession.... basically the bankers did the maths wrong and forgot to leave themselves a nice bonus... taxy taxy moolah.
But there was a big fire in australia today which was like ... New Orleans but the opposite ya. I hope Tatums ok.
So yeah Gears of war 2 came out Left 4 Dead Fable 2 ... this is what i have been busying myself with, combined with a really healthy diet im not up to 12 and a half stone which is like the heaviest iv ever been! I proper wanna pile on the weight before i even think of doing the muscle thing.
For once my mind is in a state of ... normalness. Whatever it takes haha
Juggalos and vampires man fuckin sexual.
so yeah this is my little blogspot which i may transfer over to my myspace if i can figure out how to unhibernate it. And oh yeah Stickam.com/rozzer11 is where my cooler stuff is too
So its febuary ... febuary febuary im sure in the oldern days it was called february.
Anyway I feel like I am able to write once again, you know when the weight of the world slips off your shoulders you should write a bit i guess. It cant hurt.
2008 was like the ying and yang year of my life so many good things happened which may have links to or lead to or consequented in the inevitable bad things in which were probably going to happen anyway. Music is liking me again as i have had the wonderous fortune of finding ways of letting good music find me once again. The feeling i get from the guitar is better than ever before. Im lazy I got a load of songs but theyre all in my head and if i cant be a star I wont get out of bed.
So yeah theres a conspiracy theory .... recession.... basically the bankers did the maths wrong and forgot to leave themselves a nice bonus... taxy taxy moolah.
But there was a big fire in australia today which was like ... New Orleans but the opposite ya. I hope Tatums ok.
So yeah Gears of war 2 came out Left 4 Dead Fable 2 ... this is what i have been busying myself with, combined with a really healthy diet im not up to 12 and a half stone which is like the heaviest iv ever been! I proper wanna pile on the weight before i even think of doing the muscle thing.
For once my mind is in a state of ... normalness. Whatever it takes haha
Juggalos and vampires man fuckin sexual.
so yeah this is my little blogspot which i may transfer over to my myspace if i can figure out how to unhibernate it. And oh yeah Stickam.com/rozzer11 is where my cooler stuff is too
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