Sunday, 4 September 2011
this is not a post, this is NOTHING
Oh dear... where has the time gone? I swear I'm as bored now as I was at the start of the holidays - and the middle of them, along with most days in-between. I think I may hop over to Wordpress, see if it works out.
Tuesday, 19 July 2011
Sunday, 10 July 2011
Wednesday, 6 July 2011
estoy podar los arbustos!
Estoy podar los arbustos - in English: I'm pruning the bushes. I arrived at that title with the original intention to call it 'fillers' - which lead me onto hedges (English lessons) which lead me on to this phrase. I use it a lot.
As you can probably tell when I can't think of anything to post I stick a poem up. More often than not this is why:
Should I take it anywhere? Hopefully a more bloggy blog for tomorrow.
As you can probably tell when I can't think of anything to post I stick a poem up. More often than not this is why:
The ever so slightly morbidly obese gentleman turned in his sleep, dreaming dreams Amarillo as he hugged his turtle shell patterned pouffe. Quite what this gentleman was doing hugging a turtle shell patterned pouffe is known only to his wife – and she died by fire extinguisher in the student riots. A tuft of white hair sat atop the aged and sunken face that had turned ghostly white due to excessive use of moisturisers over the past several hundred years, his nose was long and sharp – quite contrasting to his penis, which was short, fat and somewhat roundish. Bags too numerous to comprehend framed his sallow eyelids that were barely visible under his great and bushy eyebrows, and on this particular occasion his cheeks were slightly red. Santa was pissed. It was Christmas Eve and he'd got hammered in a floating bar off the east coast of Azerbaijan. He'd really outdone himself this time.
Should I take it anywhere? Hopefully a more bloggy blog for tomorrow.
Tuesday, 5 July 2011
war, poem
As I lie, alone – abandoned by my country, I think. Over the eternal plains of inky thought my mind wanders, searching for a safe haven from the pain. The blood – my blood, slowly oozes from the multiple wounds in my chest; I’m waiting for the inevitable end: my heaven and my retribution. I have not abandoned them - I remained loyal to the last, they were the cornerstone of my faith. The godless Nazi bastards taunt me in my death, I merely smite them with my gaze. In the end I am the victor.
Death has won this war
Death wins every war
Death has won this war
Death wins every war
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
my boy, poem
Nobody said it was easy,
by god, they were right.
One cannot imagine: the wispy figure
the deep blue ocean eyes
ungrown hair, dreary smile.
Devoid of spirit.
Abandoned by life.
His soft white skin, slowly drained of moisture
And a frozen grasp on a furry bear;
Tears forming on its glass eyes,
Casting looming shadows of reflection.
His last gaze searched my soul;
I hope he found compassion.
I pray he found his joy.
I wish he didn't have to go.
Here I stand.
Alone.
Endlessly cursing into the night,
Praying for my child.
My boy.
by god, they were right.
One cannot imagine: the wispy figure
the deep blue ocean eyes
ungrown hair, dreary smile.
Devoid of spirit.
Abandoned by life.
His soft white skin, slowly drained of moisture
And a frozen grasp on a furry bear;
Tears forming on its glass eyes,
Casting looming shadows of reflection.
His last gaze searched my soul;
I hope he found compassion.
I pray he found his joy.
I wish he didn't have to go.
Here I stand.
Alone.
Endlessly cursing into the night,
Praying for my child.
My boy.
Wednesday, 22 June 2011
error 404
Madame De Parkerdour, or 'Valoch' as she is now known, has been forbidden from (I quote her) "touching" me in physics lessons, much to our mutual disappointment. I have thus resorted to writing the negative form of yes on her hand as a sign of my despised restraints.
The rustic iron chains have been cast down informally by a person of great knowledge and power, a person whom is originally from Scotland and would like to tell us things of which there is no time. This person is a warlock, she controls the structure of atoms with her red, green and yellow pieces of card. She despairs at the inappropriate and forcéd hugs that I have so valiantly endured.
Valoch hides behind a shield of mascara and eye-liner, with dyed hair and brown eyes, prodding me with her vicious spears and accusations of a sullen countenance - which simply are not true! I fight back with my only tools: pens and 'borrowed' stationary, of which there is little. Supplies are running low after the fifth night of raids and help must be sent soon! I implore ye watchers of this discord, send forth the bus!
The rustic iron chains have been cast down informally by a person of great knowledge and power, a person whom is originally from Scotland and would like to tell us things of which there is no time. This person is a warlock, she controls the structure of atoms with her red, green and yellow pieces of card. She despairs at the inappropriate and forcéd hugs that I have so valiantly endured.
Valoch hides behind a shield of mascara and eye-liner, with dyed hair and brown eyes, prodding me with her vicious spears and accusations of a sullen countenance - which simply are not true! I fight back with my only tools: pens and 'borrowed' stationary, of which there is little. Supplies are running low after the fifth night of raids and help must be sent soon! I implore ye watchers of this discord, send forth the bus!
Sunday, 19 June 2011
we need to talk more
"Do we? Do we really? I honestly couldn't care less about you - and what do you expect, I don't talk to you. There's a reason we don't talk. I'm not sure what it is, but there is a reason. It's probably a very good one. If it isn't then I've made a grievous mistake, which I don't like to do. If either of us were remotely interested in each other we wouldn't be here right now, having this conversation would we? No. We wouldn't.
I don't have a clue why you said this to me, I don't even know why I liked your status - I mean, honestly, we hardly even know each other. Yeah. I said it. WE DON'T KNOW EACH OTHER. In consideration that probably isn't all too true, I like to know people I meet to some degree and so by nature you know me a bit too, we probably don't like each other much. Not really. We can be all nice and flowery over this but we still don't like each other, not like real friends."
I hate people that say this, it's so damn annoying. People don't talk for a reason, and if they want that to change they don't say this- they ACT ON IT.
I don't have a clue why you said this to me, I don't even know why I liked your status - I mean, honestly, we hardly even know each other. Yeah. I said it. WE DON'T KNOW EACH OTHER. In consideration that probably isn't all too true, I like to know people I meet to some degree and so by nature you know me a bit too, we probably don't like each other much. Not really. We can be all nice and flowery over this but we still don't like each other, not like real friends."
I hate people that say this, it's so damn annoying. People don't talk for a reason, and if they want that to change they don't say this- they ACT ON IT.
Thursday, 16 June 2011
rottweiler
When being chased by a rottweiler life becomes that bit simpler, the ordinarily bogged down pages turn so much more easily. Get away from the devil and avoid the loss of a limb in the process; why is it then that one must fill in 20 pages of risk assessment? It is a troubling thought to cross my mind, 'If I get out of his alive I need to fill in 100 bloody forms confirming the event, consoling the owner of the dog and requesting a damn good lawyer.' Thank God I don't get chased by savage beasts often! I dread to imagine a career in dog-care, particularly rottweilers...
Fortunately I was able to lay my hands on a katana. Legal problems aside, it was a fantastic weapon and did the trick just fine, my pirate games as a child really paid off. A clean cut was what I aimed for, though it ended up as more of a hammer battery than silent ninja kill. Sh. Nobody told you that. The dog died painlessly - it was unconscious after the first few blows.
Satan's owner was very good about it all, I arrived at her doorstep full of crocodile tears I'd nicked from the zoo last week and told her some sob story about a truck hitting the bugger. She was a bit thick and so forgot to question the blatant katana marks, so everything went to plan! Apart from the cat. I swear it was an accident. The idiot wandered into my blade. It was a shame really, the wife left me because of it - still, at least I killed her dog. I hate rottweilers.
Fortunately I was able to lay my hands on a katana. Legal problems aside, it was a fantastic weapon and did the trick just fine, my pirate games as a child really paid off. A clean cut was what I aimed for, though it ended up as more of a hammer battery than silent ninja kill. Sh. Nobody told you that. The dog died painlessly - it was unconscious after the first few blows.
Satan's owner was very good about it all, I arrived at her doorstep full of crocodile tears I'd nicked from the zoo last week and told her some sob story about a truck hitting the bugger. She was a bit thick and so forgot to question the blatant katana marks, so everything went to plan! Apart from the cat. I swear it was an accident. The idiot wandered into my blade. It was a shame really, the wife left me because of it - still, at least I killed her dog. I hate rottweilers.
Thursday, 9 June 2011
I dink I have a dold
I think I have a cold coming on, this is a happy time for it to be stalking me as exam week has finished now - just one more trial to survive tomorrow :D Hopefully my grade will not be influenced by my malfunction.
I remember in year 7 in a maths exam I was sat next to somebody with a cold, it annoyed the nails off my fingers. I do sincerely hope that nobody will suffer at my expense at zero hour, I'd hate for my cold being responsible for the teacher getting irritated at somebody because of their low score which was directly influenced by my cold. I know the class setting won't be changed at all and so tomorrow's test is a bit pointless, but still, it's the principles.
I'm on Skype now, I can hear a friend playing the guitar, it's very nice - don't tell him I said that though. Oh dear, he's trying to sing. This is a shambles. Yay! I love how the electronically distorted notes fit perfectly together, they are so nicely in harmony it's freaky. The pace is slowing down a bit now... I wish I'd learnt the guitar. I never had any reason to do so which is probably why I didn't; I took cello lessons for a while but then stopped, I'm not 100% sure as to why I stopped, I just did.
Never give up on an instrument, you'll regret it later. If you get the opportunity to learn something like guitar or piano... do it. They sound nice.
Ahhhh, a very endearing repetitive chord thingy is being played now, lovely.
I remember in year 7 in a maths exam I was sat next to somebody with a cold, it annoyed the nails off my fingers. I do sincerely hope that nobody will suffer at my expense at zero hour, I'd hate for my cold being responsible for the teacher getting irritated at somebody because of their low score which was directly influenced by my cold. I know the class setting won't be changed at all and so tomorrow's test is a bit pointless, but still, it's the principles.
I'm on Skype now, I can hear a friend playing the guitar, it's very nice - don't tell him I said that though. Oh dear, he's trying to sing. This is a shambles. Yay! I love how the electronically distorted notes fit perfectly together, they are so nicely in harmony it's freaky. The pace is slowing down a bit now... I wish I'd learnt the guitar. I never had any reason to do so which is probably why I didn't; I took cello lessons for a while but then stopped, I'm not 100% sure as to why I stopped, I just did.
Never give up on an instrument, you'll regret it later. If you get the opportunity to learn something like guitar or piano... do it. They sound nice.
Ahhhh, a very endearing repetitive chord thingy is being played now, lovely.
Sunday, 5 June 2011
passionate love, in the oven
I've been on holiday recently, I paid visit to one of Mr. Billy Butlin's attractions. It was bad - the two things that got me through it were my book and the dodgems (NO bumping). I had low expectations from the off, but I was completely dumbfounded by the accommodation. In a word? Crap, with grime included in the cost. I was surprised that flies weren't making passionate love in the oven. In fact, I was surprised the bloody roof hadn't eaten itself.
In my area roofs tend to be very emotional creatures, prone to nervous breakdances and spontaneous combustion. That was a lie.
In my area roofs tend to be very emotional creatures, prone to nervous breakdances and spontaneous combustion. That was a lie.
Wednesday, 1 June 2011
ON HOLIDAY
I would post, but I can't. So I won't. And yes, it really did take this long to think of this.
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
march forth!.... or not, lazy git
You may recall, all that time ago on 16th February of this year I briefly mentioned journeying to and from school. I certainly don't, apparently I did.
Often on the first trip I pass - or get stuck behind, a coach. It's always the same coach, with the same children on it; always the same phone number printed in the same font on the same white rear. It's always the same. I go through the same routine of insulting it, calling the driver an idiot and contemplating making rude gestures at it as I pass it.
Of course, I never do the latter, because I'm a good child.
Nothing ever happens, because I always beat it. In the end. I walk off, confident in the knowledge that I am superior and poses more Doctor Who trading cards than anybody on said coach.
The coach trails away and sulks, I'm sure it sobs endlessly at night. I'm sure it wails for it's rusty and dilapidated mother, and just for that minute - that second in which the last breath is taken; it's mother calls back.
"DRIVE FASTER YOU LAZY GIT!"
Often on the first trip I pass - or get stuck behind, a coach. It's always the same coach, with the same children on it; always the same phone number printed in the same font on the same white rear. It's always the same. I go through the same routine of insulting it, calling the driver an idiot and contemplating making rude gestures at it as I pass it.
Of course, I never do the latter, because I'm a good child.
Nothing ever happens, because I always beat it. In the end. I walk off, confident in the knowledge that I am superior and poses more Doctor Who trading cards than anybody on said coach.
The coach trails away and sulks, I'm sure it sobs endlessly at night. I'm sure it wails for it's rusty and dilapidated mother, and just for that minute - that second in which the last breath is taken; it's mother calls back.
"DRIVE FASTER YOU LAZY GIT!"
Monday, 16 May 2011
licking it up
I've never had an issue with people licking plates, neither has my dog. I find it hard to see why anybody would - after all, 'waste not want not'? The majority of people, however, seem to set out on a vendetta to all of us innocent plate licking beings.
Society has moved on from what it used to be, blacks are now acceptable and gays are gaining rights; so with our ever increasingly liberal viewpoint I fail to see why plate-licking is unacceptable.
I hate to single out a particular group, but mothers are our most common predator. Plate licking to them is as filthy an act as masturbation. It's like taking your school books, ejaculating all over them and chucking them into a fire.
You just don't do it.
I fully support anybody that openly licks plates, and I congratulate everybody that gets dirty looks for doing it.
Society has moved on from what it used to be, blacks are now acceptable and gays are gaining rights; so with our ever increasingly liberal viewpoint I fail to see why plate-licking is unacceptable.
I hate to single out a particular group, but mothers are our most common predator. Plate licking to them is as filthy an act as masturbation. It's like taking your school books, ejaculating all over them and chucking them into a fire.
You just don't do it.
I fully support anybody that openly licks plates, and I congratulate everybody that gets dirty looks for doing it.
Friday, 13 May 2011
imaginative title
iPhones. I have one. Lots of people do. They're overrated.
That was rather silly, and rather brief; I feel pushed to say something more though am at a loss as to what to say. I shall think about what happened today and get back to you.
An author visited my school today; he spoke and tried not to swear, he answered questions and told us how he gets down to write a book. I learned nothing.
I guess I do now know what it's like to have a bloke from Leicester telling you about his book about poo, but that's not the most productive way of spending an English lesson. I disliked what this author was saying. Deeply.
I don't know what it was that he was saying that I didn't like so much, but there was just a nagging dislike the moment he started talking about his books. This isn't really going anywhere, and if it did it wouldn't be very productive, but I just don't like it when people make out that what we see everyday is all negative. Gangs. Neglected youths. Drug addicts. People don't seem to be able to get past all of that bullshit. I acknowledge that there are large problems associated with those things, and that those things themselves are large problems, but when people claim that that's all there is to life my blood boils like soup. Open your eyes and you'll see a lot.
That was rather silly, and rather brief; I feel pushed to say something more though am at a loss as to what to say. I shall think about what happened today and get back to you.
An author visited my school today; he spoke and tried not to swear, he answered questions and told us how he gets down to write a book. I learned nothing.
I guess I do now know what it's like to have a bloke from Leicester telling you about his book about poo, but that's not the most productive way of spending an English lesson. I disliked what this author was saying. Deeply.
I don't know what it was that he was saying that I didn't like so much, but there was just a nagging dislike the moment he started talking about his books. This isn't really going anywhere, and if it did it wouldn't be very productive, but I just don't like it when people make out that what we see everyday is all negative. Gangs. Neglected youths. Drug addicts. People don't seem to be able to get past all of that bullshit. I acknowledge that there are large problems associated with those things, and that those things themselves are large problems, but when people claim that that's all there is to life my blood boils like soup. Open your eyes and you'll see a lot.
Thursday, 5 May 2011
pew number three
Peering out from behind the pastel white wooden door, I could hear the gentle hum of dislocated singing seeping under my door frame - Matthew is a friend whom I have known for a few years, and is unfortunately not blessed with an amazing singing voice. Through numerous online games I have come to know him better and have eventually ended up in numerous Skype conversations with him; which explains the singing. I cautiously placed my foot upon the dirty cream carpet, the difference in textures causing me to startle a little. Hesitantly, I hauled my other foot from out of the ocean and into the desert. Something was wrong. My iron levers and alloyed cogs ground to a rusty halt. Red dust cascaded from the walkways and showered the workers, scalding oil spilled out from the vats as men fled from it's already singed path.
Wednesday, 4 May 2011
repent
Times change, just as does underwear: if one stayed the same for too long life begins to get a bit uncomfortable. And hot. And smelly. I have turned back to my Facebooking ways of late, it was near impossible to stay in touch with many of my friends and restricted my social life even father. 17 miles.
Everything I said in my post about the big book DOES still stand, however ^^ - my generation does abuse it and use it unnecessarily. Though it isn't pointless. Kind of.
That was pointless.
Everything I said in my post about the big book DOES still stand, however ^^ - my generation does abuse it and use it unnecessarily. Though it isn't pointless. Kind of.
That was pointless.
Friday, 29 April 2011
sloth
After the few years that I have walked this Earth I have learned little, though the things I have learned are very important - to me, at least.
Nobody can be trusted, though you must trust everybody with ardour.
There is no happily ever after, there is no written ending! The end is for you to scribe with deeds.
Simplicity is always best, though complications should always be sought after.
Life is a unique, treat it that way.
Coincidences should never be ignored, unless running away.
The future is in the past and the past is the present, act accordingly.
Regrets are for humans, remorse is for the guilty.
Light is always present, if it wasn't you'd be dead.
Pain is just a hindrance, death is the box; find the door.
Happiness is the ultimate victory.
Nobody can be trusted, though you must trust everybody with ardour.
There is no happily ever after, there is no written ending! The end is for you to scribe with deeds.
Simplicity is always best, though complications should always be sought after.
Life is a unique, treat it that way.
Coincidences should never be ignored, unless running away.
The future is in the past and the past is the present, act accordingly.
Regrets are for humans, remorse is for the guilty.
Light is always present, if it wasn't you'd be dead.
Pain is just a hindrance, death is the box; find the door.
Happiness is the ultimate victory.
Wednesday, 27 April 2011
proposed purpose
If death is all we get, why do we keep living? Is death our only reward? Is there something else...?
Proposition Omega: Enjoy life, work hard, give back.
Proposition Reality: Hate life, work harder, lose.
Precision of purpose is vague in her cloak of deceit, littered with frozen truths and veiling of the lady's vexation. Her bones are brittle and boil down to ash whilst the man works on. He cries into the pitch 'Oh Lord! Wherefore art thou? Must I die!? I rebuke this turmoil of forlorn tear-filled eyes!'
Swift is the lark that hits the hornets nest and swifter is the sword that moulds her cruel justice.
Reprisal is alliance and alliance is declaration, thus peace be upon you all and enter not into agreements - only friendships. This life of ours is short and painful, make it easier for your children and repay your lyres with songs of worship.
Proposition Omega: Enjoy life, work hard, give back.
Proposition Reality: Hate life, work harder, lose.
Precision of purpose is vague in her cloak of deceit, littered with frozen truths and veiling of the lady's vexation. Her bones are brittle and boil down to ash whilst the man works on. He cries into the pitch 'Oh Lord! Wherefore art thou? Must I die!? I rebuke this turmoil of forlorn tear-filled eyes!'
Swift is the lark that hits the hornets nest and swifter is the sword that moulds her cruel justice.
Reprisal is alliance and alliance is declaration, thus peace be upon you all and enter not into agreements - only friendships. This life of ours is short and painful, make it easier for your children and repay your lyres with songs of worship.
Tuesday, 19 April 2011
mingering?
So there I was, minding my own business talking in an Aussie accent when for some reason I stumbled on my words, I tripped. I tripped and fell into a hole full of pitch and some cow excrement – and man, I can assure you, it wasn't a pretty sight; generally isn't with me.
Haha! Look, it's a guy that said something that could be interpreted in many ways…. which seat should I take? Neither. Read and bleed.
That actually sounds pretty cool. I adopt it.
Briefly returning to the original topic I somehow ended up saying ‘mingering’, which sounds like a word – a REAL word, turns out it is, according to this high and mighty urban dictionary – though my grandma being an avid scrabbler says nay.
Urban dictionary = slang
Slang = icky
Icky = NO.
I love grandma logic.
It seems like we've going at this forever: you and me – I'm sorry, it just isn't working. I, I know that what we had was good – it was great! Really! But, I'm just not sure we're meant to be.
How sad. But seriously, you're x-teen? Get real!
You have your whole life ahead of you! Go play with Lego, or something? Lego's cool – right? I think Lego's cool. Life's as short as a piece of Megablocks but doesn't mean ya can't play with Lego. Always time for Lego in my house. I'm tangenting. Sorry.
Plenty more blocks in the box.
Haha! Look, it's a guy that said something that could be interpreted in many ways…. which seat should I take? Neither. Read and bleed.
That actually sounds pretty cool. I adopt it.
Briefly returning to the original topic I somehow ended up saying ‘mingering’, which sounds like a word – a REAL word, turns out it is, according to this high and mighty urban dictionary – though my grandma being an avid scrabbler says nay.
Urban dictionary = slang
Slang = icky
Icky = NO.
I love grandma logic.
It seems like we've going at this forever: you and me – I'm sorry, it just isn't working. I, I know that what we had was good – it was great! Really! But, I'm just not sure we're meant to be.
How sad. But seriously, you're x-teen? Get real!
You have your whole life ahead of you! Go play with Lego, or something? Lego's cool – right? I think Lego's cool. Life's as short as a piece of Megablocks but doesn't mean ya can't play with Lego. Always time for Lego in my house. I'm tangenting. Sorry.
Plenty more blocks in the box.
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