The inane ramblings of an unimportant man

RUSSIAN WOMAN: After Chernobyl, my penis is falling off.
MOE: And “penis” is Russian for?

RUSSIAN WOMAN: After Chernobyl, my penis is falling off.

MOE: And “penis” is Russian for?

I made this animated gif after a friend of mine, Conrad, started saying it. I found it very funny and couldn’t get it out of my head. It takes a few seconds for you to see the whole thing so please be patient.
This is for you, CC!!

I made this animated gif after a friend of mine, Conrad, started saying it. I found it very funny and couldn’t get it out of my head. It takes a few seconds for you to see the whole thing so please be patient.

This is for you, CC!!

purehateandrage:

misslolalove:

Legend

WINNING

purehateandrage:

misslolalove:

Legend

WINNING

Just a quick one tonight. In the shopping centre (or “mall” to our colonial brethren) in the city nearest to me, Portsmouth, they have a bunch of signs up covering the windows of vacant shop spaces all conveying this one message to customers milling about along the promenades: “Go with the flow.”
Now, I could go on about the sexual aspects of this bloke eating this heroic sub but I shall not; far too easy. I will go on about this ‘flow’ message on the other hand. It seems that the owners of this urban shopoplex wish everyone who enter to give up their identity and conform to the wants and desires they want you to. This is obviously what they want as it means that the shops renting spaces will get more revenue and carry on paying their dues. But in the United Kingdom, this dystopic propaganda-with-a-smile stuff is everywhere! Everyone needs a slogan and everyone wants you to conform but do so in away that’s supposed to come across as cheerful and not the least bit threatening.
Ah well, can’t wait for the 60ft tall geishas on plasma screens telling me that ‘all is well’. That would be neat.

Just a quick one tonight. In the shopping centre (or “mall” to our colonial brethren) in the city nearest to me, Portsmouth, they have a bunch of signs up covering the windows of vacant shop spaces all conveying this one message to customers milling about along the promenades: “Go with the flow.”

Now, I could go on about the sexual aspects of this bloke eating this heroic sub but I shall not; far too easy. I will go on about this ‘flow’ message on the other hand. It seems that the owners of this urban shopoplex wish everyone who enter to give up their identity and conform to the wants and desires they want you to. This is obviously what they want as it means that the shops renting spaces will get more revenue and carry on paying their dues. But in the United Kingdom, this dystopic propaganda-with-a-smile stuff is everywhere! Everyone needs a slogan and everyone wants you to conform but do so in away that’s supposed to come across as cheerful and not the least bit threatening.

Ah well, can’t wait for the 60ft tall geishas on plasma screens telling me that ‘all is well’. That would be neat.

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On Being Afraid of Everything and Nothing

I wrote this while sat in Costa Coffee in Tescos when I had hours to kill last Friday. I saw a man who walked past the checkouts utterly afraid of anyone who came near him and it reminded me of when I used to suffer from anxiety attacks so I penned down some of the feelings I remembered from my experiences.

———————————————————————————-

Supermarket, High street, Train, Pub, Church,

Pharmacy, Boutique, Bus, Post Office, Cafe, Car, Cinema,

Tight chest, tight heart, tight skin, tight eyes,

Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing.

Cannot focus. Cannot talk. Cannot see.

Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing.

Short gasps. Fast thumping. Relentless.

Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing.

The shame. The embarrassment. The helplessness.

Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing.

Focus. Control. Effort.

All to take one step forward.

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Forgive me an emo moment…

Dedicated to Andrew Stroud, Rachael Dover, Kai Nolan, Kerrie Pare, Lynn Squire and Heather Stein

——————————————————

As I wade through the battlefield of life

I am confident, fighting, giving my all.

No need have I to protect myself,

Why should I? I am immortal; happy.



An arrow flies true and strikes the heart,

A warrior of reality I cease to be.

I lay there broken, ruined and left to rot,

A fading memory for someone, somewhere.



I am still and have lost all function,

A mortal wound is what is feared.

The heart that stopped beats once more,

Twice, thrice and again and again!



Once arrogant I now stumble,

Relying on my comrades in arms to stand.

The wounded heart is protected; shielded,

The weight heavy within this fighter’s breast.



The heart still beats although burdened

But gains in strength with every passing moment.

Stronger and stronger until I can stand alone,

This warrior’s heart ready to love, to fight, again.



I am armour clad.

WHAT IS YOUR EARLIEST HUMAN MEMORY?

Playing with some toy cars in a hallway. I believe it might have been in one of my mum and dad’s friend’s house back in West Germany. 

A surprising choice

Anybody who knows me will no doubt understand that I have a passion for cars and consider the very act of driving one of the greatest joys contemporary life can offer. Many people also know that my dream car would be a ‘69 Chevrolet Camaro SS as I simply adore the simplicity of older cars that doesn’t detach the driver from the act of motoring. I believe modern cars are aimed at the motorist and not the driver and there is a distinction between the two. Our society has been built around a complex web of mass transport and, as a result, a large number of people need a car. The operative word there is ‘need’. Driving to many is a chore or a means to an end and not the end in of itself. This means that driving needs to be made easier so cars become more sterile. Instead of being treated with the respect they require they are seen by many as nothing more than a kettle, an appliance to be switched on as and when it is needed.

With this in mind I have decided that if the improbable should happen and I suddenly receive a massive lump sum of money my first choice of car would not be the ‘69 Chevrolet Camaro SS; it would be this:

The MG X-Power WR. Yes, a Rover! It is based on the Qvale Mangusta and made in Italy and Britain it is a modern sports car made on a tight budget using parts bastardised from other cars in the hope of rescuing a dying company. This is a European muscle car! What this means is that it is simple, powerful and has the ability to go around a corner without causing your name to appear in the local papers obituaries the next day.

And since it was the company’s swansong not many were produced so it retains an exclusivity that not even Ferrari or Lamborghini would dare wish for.