I wouldn't put it past Steven... Fry!

I know that one of my readers is a fan, if only in dreams, of necrophilia.

I was going to post pics but I can't upload.

Necrophilia is such a turn off.

Were you aroused before this? Are you now?

Read 'The Origin of Conciousness' if you have finnaly chanced upon the flaws of existentialisim.

Watch Requiem for a Dream.

And 'pie' (which is spelt in maths) I promise on your dead juicy pussy that you will not be dissapointed.

I am going now,
goodbye.

For Siobhan

Martha
-
Strawberry Fields Forever
-
Walk on the Wild Side
-
Anywhere l Lay My Head (Tom Waits)
-
Cymbol Rush (Tom Yorke)


These songs, all for seperate reasons. None of them make me that sad, they more reflect emotions, and images, and kernundrums close at hand.

www.ulillillia.us


This has blown mine mind! Ahh! And you will remember this man. His site takes a short while to get into, but when you do...

There and back again

There can't be malice in everything.

I look around the blogs and so much of the commenting and posting seems to have a hidden agenda.

But then I look for that don't I. Because I'm sure that somewhere within me there must be an artist. And people aren't nasty. They are nice. a lot of the time. because they are.

And your comment Siobhan is most welcome, but for some strange reason my psp won't let me reply.

Cute is very nice. And look! I'm all out of text box! Right about now.

About midnight, or perhaps just a tad later, I can go outside and give Kai an apple. Thats because at night he is afraid. afraid of a lion, of a zebra, or just afraid. I love him at night, and he seems to apreciate my company.

When daytime comes I get up late and go out to see him, but it's not the same. In fact I can't fucking stand him. He just walks away from me. We have a mutual agreement only to see each other at night, when he is vulnerable, and I can guide his thoughts in the darkness.

I need a computer like ThAt.

Its sooo frustrating. And they cost lots of money!

Ah!

Stanley would have found a way! Yeah,

Theivery in the middle of nowhere? I don't think so.

Thirsty Gentleman

Well its hotter than blazes, for all the nobodys.
There'll be no oasis for a thirsty grazier
there'll be no refreshment, for a thirsty jackaroo,
From Melbourne to LA on the overlander.
With new fangled buffet cars, and faster locamotives
The train stopped in Christchurch less and less often.

There's nothing sadder than a mind with no cheer,
Vic Rail decided the talent was no longer necessary there.
The noon sun beats down a hundred and four,
Theres a hummingbird trapped in a closed down shoe store.

www.encyclopediadramatica.com/nebris

To contradict (or perhaps to compliment) my last post, I sit on the edge of my bed listening to Perfect Day and get very deep and meaninful.

???

Because you just keep me hanging on thats why. Lou Reed's a fucker, and yet clearly he knows pure bliss. I want some of this bliss.

Love is pure bliss, and my life is lacking in heart.

Oh fuck up Blair, these posts got old last time.

Little Ms Lolita

If I am out of touch, it is only a happier form of out of touch than your depressed out of touch? Can I say that? Or do you own what I say just as much as you own what everyone else says?

When the fuck did a controlled tounge become a right of passage?

I had my depressed posts period, and now you EXPECT me to put up those SHIT-KICKER 'my life = misery' posts, just because it fits your spiralling normality.

Your velvet; regular, high-achieving rebellion.

Steven Fry -OR- Nelson Mandella, try being ONE.

William Eggleston

It's just perfect how boring this is! perfectly boring, yet I love this man, William Eggleston.

Mobile blogging made this tricky double post thing, it could be here for a while, and I'll still be stale

'But there is something important we have to do as soon as possible...'

'whats that?'

'fuck.'

-

Well yes; But did Nicole win her
life's lottery saying that line?

So I've sat for three hours of my life without moving a muscle. And after I think about it for another while I do recieve some minor revalation from the film. But not one that helps me- You yourself don't watch much daytime television, yet its great when I spend half of my day receiving minor revelations from the same screen? And I guess at

the end of all my 'education' I might emerge a few years behind everybody else. Not a prodigy any more am I? is that what you wanted from me Ma, your own son, your own flesh and blood Ma! Was this all your plan? and if not then why didn't you tell me to get out more? Shit I need some heroin at my age and stage.

Heroin. Now that'd be righteous. That would make me cool again.

Trainspotters and wonky tracks

Now I've been dabbling in a little bit of TRAINSPOTTERS over my weekend, and the voiceover got me thinking...

Do we really reach a peak in our lives, a place where we've got the hang of things, only to loose it and never recover? And if so am I on an upward spiral or a downwards one? Am I just struggling to get back to where I once was?

I guess therin lies the dilema. If we are at our peak part of being there is not knowing we are any good... And then when we are trying to reclaim greatness we ingnore...

... where we really are in an attempt to be back at our peak.

Therefore we can never truely know where we are in life. To be great we must delude ourselves that we aren't good enough, and when we are nothing we pretend we are kings. King of a whorehouse, in my case, in my head it makes me even more superior.

...

...This thinking makes me very lonely. Lonlier by the day actually. Mesurably so.

Maybe... That's the only way we can measure? By social acceptance.

And that thought makes me even lonlier...

I need to think before I write posts. I will in future. I keep my promises.

So, my exams.

I went into the english exams with the best intentions and everything went well. I hear most others did well too. Hooray.

I would have preferred something a little more interesting actually, like a tricky question or an even mildly difficult unfamiliar texts...

Nobody wants to hear about my exams do they?

Ok my life. I am... working on a short film. I have only filmed 20 seconds of it so far because it can only be filmed at night, and I can't be up for much night, my mother gets annoyed because she thinks I need to sleep. (pffft!) That said, I should move much faster after they have finished and it should be up on here by the end of next week...
...

...If I had a friend, one that pretty much all we did together was joke and have general fun times (and we spend a lot of time having fun) does that give me a right to ask them for a favor that I could only ask of a friend? Because I guess we are quite close, but not in a serious way...

Maybe it depends on whether they actually care about me... yes... And I don't know that, so maybe I should leave it?

Or not, it is sort of important...

We shall see I guess, I'm only young and I guess part of life is learning!

Have lots of fun if you still have any exams left!

I hope that's not too difficult.

Here's some lighter relief:

-

Ahhhh!!! I don't have my folder!
I am nothing. And that is not light relief... sorry.

Target: Elderly Assasination

Ok.

This is a concept idea that I hope will work. The idea is thus: I give a detailed description of a target, and you figure out a way to kill him. There may be special conditions to the killing, such as no evidence of a murder, or nobody else being injured.

This, I hope, will serve as a mental exercise, so I hope there is some debate amongst us as to the most efficient method. No one way is the right way, so long as any chosen way is practical.

One assumes that you have access to modern weapons and utilities, so anything you need you can use - that said - the use of a helecopter or a chainsaw rocket launcher will not be that encoraged...

Have fun and discuss! Tell your friends!

-

My first attempt at a target, I wrote it so feel free to ask questions!

Elderly Elimination

Target:

The target is a retired man, 66 years old. He lives with his retired wife of 61, and with no other family. His relationship with his wife is close and committed, and she doubles as his part-time carer. A guard is present Monday-Saturday from 9am to 7pm in a guardhouse by the front gate. The target suffers from short-sightedness and cannot make out details particularly well without his glasses, although he only removes these at night and in the bath. He also suffers from severe arthritis in the knees and cannot move quickly or climb stairs unassisted. He is prescribed Vicodin for the arthritic pain, and is also known to self-medicate with generic oxycodone, which he purchases monthly through the Internet. He is usually housebound, exceptions being every Monday when he visits his daughter in the nearby town, and on Wednesday and Saturday evenings when he takes a short stroll around the grounds of his house with his wife in an effort to keep active. His wife is slightly deaf and suffers from mild arthritis in the hands and wrists. She is prescribed Ambien for insomnia and Vicodin for the arthritic pain.

He spends much of his time during the day alone in his study, where he browses the Internet for long periods of time, writes letters to acquaintances (which his wife posts for him in the nearby town every Thursday, a day she usually spends shopping for clothes and household goods) and listens to classical music at low volume on an old record player. His wife is usually occupied with household tasks or watching television in the sitting room, which is adjacent to the study. She occasionally pops in to the study to check on him. He wakes at 8am sharp every morning and goes to sleep at 9pm, the same hours that his wife keeps. Meals are taken together in the dining room in winter, and in the summer in the glass conservatory at the back of the house, the back door of which is usually left open in warm weather along with the study and sitting room windows. These are closed and locked when the target and his wife retire to bed. The guard customarily eats lunch with the family at around 2pm, but spends his other time in the guardhouse. The target drives a black 2006 Toyota Land Cruiser which is shared with his wife. Groceries are delivered on Mondays and Thursdays in the early afternoon.

Location:

The target lives in a large, two-storey walled and gated house in Burlington Country, New Jersey, USA. It is part of a small, upper-class development with a private in-road around 10 miles from the nearest large settlement, Evesham. The entry and exit of vehicles by road is logged, and cameras also watch the road. The house itself is also monitored by external stationary CCTV cameras. There are five cameras in total; one on the guardhouse monitoring the front gate (which is electronically unlocked and opened from inside or opened via transmitter from the outside by the guard, target or his wife), two on the front of the house overlooking the driveway and two at the back corners of the house overlooking the grounds and conservatory. These latter four are mounted around four metres up. These cameras are watched during the day by the guard in the guardhouse, and record at night but are not monitored. The grounds are mostly flat, open and green, with a few trees but little other cover. The walls are approximately nine feet high and flat-topped.

A blueprint map of the downstairs of the house and grounds is found below. Thicker portions of walls are doors, thin portions of outside walls are windows and cameras are represented by small squares, with their fields of vision shown. The locations of the desk in the study and television in the sitting room are also shown.

The precise layout of the upstairs is not given. It is known to contain an en-suite bathroom with a shower and another main bathroom with a bath and shower. The master bedroom is located directly above the sitting room and part of the reception area. There are two other guest bedrooms which are not used, and another large unused room which has been turned over to storage.

Special requirements. The death must not be suspicious or able to be traced to an assassination in any way. There are to be no casualties or injuries apart from the target.

-----------

If there is anything else about the scenario you wish to know, ask me and I may give extra information.Feel free to discuss tactics or methods with others and to discuss and critique other users' approaches. Feel free to use elements of other users' approaches in your own (there are some ways of doing things that are simply the most logical, after all), although credit will be given for originality.

that is the first bit, which I'm not deleting because it took so goddamn forever to type - my psp has many limitations in its text boxes. when I find a computer I shall complete it.

www.encyclopediadramatica.com/placentafag, for your lultz boys and girl,

Glad you've all stuck with me during my posting break...

Just an update on Mr Ofelius's situation.

As you know he was apprehended by the police after we burnt the car, but luckily he was released after a short interrogation. We have sent a thank you letter to the police involved, and you all know what that means...

Anyhoo, next is the hole in Sam H's garden, which if you don't already know will be happening on the 30th of October, 2:00PM.

Jean has blood in her mouth

Hope to see you there loyal members!

Sincerely,

Mr Florestan

shitfucker.

Squinting one eye, Oreilly poured himself another drink; the clownlike twist of his mouth hardened into a line of scholarly straightness. “That is a million-dollar question, kid. Why don’t you ask something easy, like how to cure the common cold? Yes, kid, what does it mean? I have thought about it a good deal. I have thought about it in the process of making love to a woman, and I have thought about it in the middle of a poker game.” He tossed the drink down his throat and shuddered. “Now a sound can start a dream; the noise of one car passing in the night can drop a hundred sleepers into the deep parts of themselves. It’s funny to think of that one car racing through the dark, trailing so many dreams. Sex, a sudden change of light, a pickle, these are little keys that can open up our insides, too. But most dreams begin because there are furies inside of us that blow open all the doors. I don’t believe in Jesus Christ, but I do believe in people’s souls; and I figure it this way, baby: dreams are the mind of the soul and the secret truth about us. Now Master Misery, maybe he hasn’t got a soul, so bit by bit he borrows yours, steals it like he would steal your dolls or the chicken wing off your plate. Hundreds of souls have passed through him and gone into a filing case.”

- Truman Capote

I can't write for shit,

Jules: This is the gormet shit!

Jimmy: I don't need you to tell me how fucking good my coffee is, okay? I'm the one who buys it, I know how good it is. When Bonnie goes shopping, she buys shit. Me, I buy the gourmet expensive stuff because when I drink it, I want to taste it. But you know what's on my mind right now? It ain't the coffee in my kitchen, it's the dead nigger in my garage.

Jules: Let me ask you a question-

Jimmy: No, let me ask you a question. When you came pulling in here, did you see a sign out in front of my house that said Dead Nigger Storage?

Jules: No, I did not see that sign

Jimmy: Wanna know why? Cause it ain't there, 'cause storing dead niggers ain't my fucking business, that's why!

The Fidelio Society is proud to present:

How about a little fire, Scarecrow?

Set things into a pattern faster than a post on Siobhan's blog the exams did didn't they? I sure am sick of them, but thats ok I guess because they are almost over, well I have two tomorrow but they are science, which isn't an exam, and drama, which is my least favoroute subject, so it should be a pretty relaxed day.

Which brings me to sunshine. We don't get enough of it, exept lately we got too much of it because I haven't been wanting any of it. I had to go across the street today to get to the auction house and it hurt my eyes. The house didn't sell by the way, I could have gone home. And I did straight after it but still, my eyes are burnt, its like someone doesn't like me. And if i didn't like someone I would drag them out of their house and burn them on a stick (if I really didn't like them).

At Work On His Masterpiece

Lots and lots and typically cliche spheres and tubes only made the exterior look like an artist was alive and well, as well as being artistic. Off the horizontal edge of the balcony a picture of a hill, just one, framed by a semi vicious awning, rectangular open at the bottom with a man in the middle, an artist at work on his worldly erotic.

Late in the evening as he tucked himself into bed and kissed his relentless manhood goodnight, two lines (two that soon shrank into one) circled in his head. First I must be a prodigy child, and then does it mean a lot that I'm hardcore. And it was then our man discovered that the night is is fine time for the erotic on paper. In the morning his canvas was torn up with disgusting, but the spheres and tubes still had him feeling special.

Once he finally slept the next night after that, his dreams saw a flash of old school schishk! and a thick hand pleated catwalk. At the exhibit of her masterpiece there was thin blooded stale in every shot, If only for a decent photographer. He slept without fear that night.

Another body joined the basement, making six greenhouses rotting perfectly for him in three even rows.

Some more Rene Maggrite, but unfortunatly still no red bird. Anyhoo, our fist meeting was a sucsess, woohoo.

The movie! The movie is going quite nicely, but I have no idea whats going to happen for the second half, and Andrew needs to compose songs.

Having fun reading my forced posts wackkie?

Thank you for all applications, although I did ask for email, you are welcome into the society Charlotte. I have had five people email me, which is enough for a starting, as I outlined in my replies, I think our activities should be decided at our first meeting, and you all know when and where that is because I told you. I have an idea though, an idea I think you'll like, but it can wait.

Oh, and just as soon as the picture's uploaded I will send you an email with your names, and since you'll know them, I can say that Mr Rocco has suggested a society slogan, that being 'Friends applaud, the comedy is over', suitably by Ludwig Van. Mr Rocco and I plan to use this as the motto for our first year, again because symbolically it is very appropriate. After our first year a new motto will be decided on to represent those future plans.

Anyhoo, all things aside, nothing is set in concrete until our first meeting, after which we shall have a Vice President, Treasurer, Group coordinator/Secretary and two people who have expressed their desire just to be ordinary members.

Many, many salutations to those special few who have chosen to understand this post,

Mr Florestan.


My Favorite painting

http://www.truechristian.com/masturbation.html

This kid does not like watermarks. Truth is, no one else does either.

Between the sheets of a duvet two naked young boys draw figures of dragons and wizards, caught together in a battle growing more and more epic as their bows go farther, they're flips go ever higher, any tinsey line out of place spells a death knoll for the dragon holding the entrance to the cave the left boy must retrieve his dead warrior from. A shadow falls over the duvet,

Left Boy: Mummy sure takes her time when I'm HUNGRY!

Mummy: You boys have been under there too long, and yes, I have your sandwich but you're going to have to come out and taste the fresh air to eat it because your best blanket cannot get dirty before you go and visit daddy's this afternoon.

Right boy: Who's visiting daddy's?

Mummy: You both are munchkin boys! Now come on

Arms stem into the boy's duvet and pull out left boy with fingers poking from within his armpits, he laughs his way into a spasm that frees himself from mummy's grasp, but after a pat on the cheek and a light kiss from mummy both boys scamper off to their sandwiches, down the hall and outside finding a golden day.

Mummy: Calm down munchkins you can't do that to the grass,

Left boy: Because it grass deserves better?

Mummy: Because the flies are eating your sandwiches, quick! Go!

The Boys run to the table, pick up the sandwiches and splat them straight back down again,

Left Boy: No flies, look bitch! Throws handful of sandwich at mummy, mummy grabs the boy by the neck and drags him inside, heading towards the kitchen.

Left boy: I don't want to go to daddy! I hate daddys and I hate you so you should just go and, drown in a river!

The sink is full of dirty dishes and green water, mummy pushes Left boy under, he struggles and his naked body grazes against the sides of the bench, Mummy pulls lets his head out and he throws himself at her arms flailing, however he is held at bay with a simple outstretched hand.

Mummy: Don't be like that, you'll be back with me in three and a half sleeps, (Boy doesn't cease) However if you try all that with a daddy we will keep you away until you learn manners and a tinsey bit of etiquette. You're the most popular little boy there is and ever will be so we can always find you more daddys, and they will always make you do as you are told.

Right boy: Mummy?

Mummy: Yes, -

Right boy: Can I and Jeffry play some more game before the daddys get here?

Mummy: -munchkin

Right boy: What Mummy?

Mummy: Nevermind darling. As long as you get dressed ready for your daddy you can, will you do that for mummy Jeffry?

Left Boy: If I can play more game Mummy,

Mummy: Off you two go then, I'll bring you your clothes soon,

Boys skip off, Mummy reaches for a cloth from the oven handle and begins to wipe up the small amount of blood resulting from Jeffry's struggling,

Jeffry: (at door) Mummy?

Mummy: Yes munchkin?

Jeffry: I'm sorry for making you angry Mummy, I'll try hard for daddy I promise.

The Fidelio Society

The Fidelio Society is now accepting members. Anyone who wishes to join should send me an email at blairgillmith@hotmail.com. I am preparing a society kit, which will be available to all members as soon as it is ready.

The society is the culmination of several years of buildup surrounding the lives of certain individuals, mostly from Middleton grange school. In light of recent successes in our enterprises it seems at last fitting to formalise our bond and goals, and I am truly honored to have been given the task of orchestrating what will, if all goes to plan, become a very beautiful scene.

Most anyone can be a member, so long as you aren't on our growing blacklist, and I would be delighted to hear from you! Information on the details of society activities will be administered on application.

Your servant in waiting,

Blair Gillespie-Smith

Miss beautiful girl is only fourteen,
But it's her girl, that entrances me night after night.
Whilst she's out on the town
We watch Winnie, read Fraggle,
Suck eggs out of eggshells
but no more than three, till no later than seven.

I kiss her goodnight,
twice on the forehead
and once on the lips.

Copying notes off a friend,
till Saturday night,
Climbing over the couch,
Giggle into her eyes
and at seven o' five,
kiss my girl
lots,
on the forehead;
and once on the lips.

Beautiful stranger,
I can't really know her
except what I've known of her mother;
Compulsive as sugar,
gullible,
green;
Rosy cheeks on rosed neck,
Mud brushed from her eyeballs,
on a forgotten old roof
the sunset fades away,
and my daughter was born,
My Isabel Kistle.
I think I'm in love


-

Still not ok, but I really cannot be bothered writing something deep sounding

This is not a sufficiant post on its own

Screenplay for a videogame
__________________________________________________

You came alive
And I
May just, send you back.
Be gone fool.
Why, be, living inside me, in make-believe lands, cold,
But green. Valleys and vines within rainforests,
Creep, up the falls.
And you walk slowly,
Within it’s walls

It’s in my hand.
You thought you were,
A girl of your word, but still they came, to take you away.
If I didn’t suck you up.
Was that not, the first means of,
Conversation,
That I shared!
Wouldn’t it be cool
Wouldn’t I make a land,
Cold but green;
Now I see!
You can’t live
In a rainforest with an anime town and a sword on your back
Because that’s not me!

You would be in a forlorn planet,
As the rain falls down on all the endless blonde heads, of hair,
That mill together, waiting for me.
You’ll see,
I will repeat myself,
Till I am dry
Like the land I make for me,
Little girl.

The Game

1. In order to play the game, one must simply know about the game, and have a basic grasp of the rules. If one does not read the rules and thus is not playing and cannot lose he wins.
2. There is no way to win the game, but one can, at any given moment, be winning. However, awareness that one is in fact winning will immediately make the winning person a loser. The reasons for this will now become no clearer.
3. In order to lose the game, one must simply think about it. This means that in order to maintain a certain vague level of success one must know of the game, but not be cogitating it at that moment. This means that by uttering the words "the game" on the internets, or saying them aloud in a public place, you are condemning any present players of the game to a similar loser fate.

21 Techniques of Silent Killing

I spent my weekend on the computer, and now I look back at it, most of the time I spend staring at the desktop, because there isn't mush to do on a broadbandless computer, with 4chan down, for the whole weekend. this book is illegal in the US.

Works by Rene Magritte P1

Time Transfixed/La duree poignardee


The Rape/Le Voil

The Listening Room/La chambre d'ecoute

All of these pictures will be well known to the modern expressionist. In his paintings Magritte shows a level of grounded realisim amongst his thoughts that is a breash of fresh air, and remains unique even after all his imitators. I scan too big so part two is on its way, along with an invisable man.

This blog scene is hotting up like a bitch...

Come on, come on, do it! I can take you! I'll take you all on! Yeah it will be interesting to see what decent shit comes out of this and what dickless cock comes out of this.... (From a fucking 'Mr superior' 'I'm suck a fucking veteran') I have seen a lot of dickless cock in new blogs... Maybe they will surprise me... Who has a blog now? Every man and his dog, the numbers are gargantuan.

Jonny
Siobhan
Kristin
Bob
Sam
Seonbu
Andrew

And guess who's a bitch!

Camdem town

Blood crashes, not the child.
She couldn't even remember her time here,
If she had ended up old in heaven.

And what a perfect rationale when you need,
need,
To kill all the hope you see around you,
There is a parody in everything,
Even life in every breath...

The driver,
A poor man of sixty.
With a rape charge to his name,
was told,
that he was wrong to kill the child.
And he was found some real-ass help.
Real-ass fast.

The mother,
Was a jew,
Not that it matters.

She can't keep away from the tough guys.
And every time she pop's another,
splatter splat it goes,
one after the other,
on and on and on...

He shouldn't have raped that girl,
She should sleep alone forever?!

Fuck that shit I'm done, you miss out

Dr. Lazarus is one of the True Prophets and one who has Received direct Communications from the Ethereal Host.
Over his impressive career, he has started several cults, and seen at least two through completion and Removal to other Planes of Existance.
Dr. Lazarus brings his unique pragmatic approach to help You, the beginning cult leader, make His vision a reality. Dr. Lazarus has graciously provided You with the following Transcriptions of Enlightenment that should help get You started on your Divine Quest.

Why don't we all get together and kill a pizza delivery boy!

Oh, right, we wouldn't be the youngest ever, why would one bother?!

'We must get our hands on this book.'


My world seems to be a global issue now

Ok, so we have Jack. Jack falls in love with Isabel, but Isabel is in a bit of a fix because although she likes Jack she can't do jack-shit because of Aya, a paedophile trader whom Isabel works for. He likes to keep Isabel as his own.

So Jack comes up with a plan, that him and Isabel do all their doing stuff in secret, he's only really interested in sex, so that's what he means. Isabel is frankly a lot smarter than Jack -the-womaniser takes her for, so knows his plan and doesn't want to do anything unless he actually cares about her. So he pretends to, and Isabel slowly slips in her ignorance of him.

Then comes Aya, who is a LOT smarter than anybody takes him for, who knows the whole thing, and subtly tries to stop them, however as the pair get more and more prevalent Aya becomes manipulative and sadistic to stop them ever being happy with each other, and he wins, even through his death, when at last he wakes up and the blood runs from his eyes;

Hagley
___________________________________________

Crowds of fat wankers,
the air is damp
and we're all moving,
to a park.

We have blue,
walls,
and crowds of fat wankers,
washing your shoes
after stepping through their pudding,
the novelty is long gone.

Does it have daisies?
Or only pretty pictures,
drawn, if you'll indulge me,
by skinny wankers, you'd fit in well

A game of Cake

Ok, I have made a game, and nobody has commented since the holidays so you all are playing.

How do you get the delicious cake?
(Post your answer on your own blog)

So you all know what I'm thinking of, and so one has to be creative, I have made a few examples:

This is an example of a wanker trying to get my attention:

Lets say..

Theres six people in a room including yourself..Your all sitten around havin a gigglintime watch the 2nd season of The Dave Chappelle Show and maybe havin a few brews (lets say PBR) and you take a small interest in how low your beer is getting.. You then head to the fridge as the other five hale for you to grab them another as well…. You reach the fridge as you slam the the rest of your beer so you can keep your hands clear as you reach into the case..Of course you grab the six beers and head back to the couch..

Now you’ve gt yourself in a predicament.. Now that you have finished the last beer first, it is more than likely you will be finishing the next one before anyone else.. therefore, you will probably have to retrieve the beers for the rest of the night, known to these fellows as the “Beer Bitch”

So the solution for all of those caught in this predicament is to do the math.. Take the amount of people in the room including yourself.. and add one.. And of course the procedure continues.. Since you were the last one to finish the last round, go and grab the beers, always add one because since you will be more than likely to finish your beer first, that extra beer left will be yours.. And the rotation continues to the next person that finished the beer that you brought first..

Sweet,
Buffalo

PR+1= -BB

and as always, keep the rotation going

He accompanied this post with a very convincing photo of a brown dick, and he's probably about tweleve knowing the cunts that write this shit. Gigglintime, I did think about posting the dick, but look at the damage a fucking poem did.

My post edit thiny is doing that double spacing on your 'enters'. You can't write poems like this, and I had a poem. Not that anyone reads it because you never comment.

I am in a very bad mood, I apologise for all the cursin', (but I can think of worsn')

Do you want the cock? The picture. Tell me you want the cock, my cock, and you always get it.

Hospitals Victorian

_______________________________________________

-

The liar isn't

scared of me,

Dare I say a little pale

is She.

-dash cause-

colder men cried

for the gayhouse slaughter,

But I'm too tired,

and I've got no more daughters

to spare.

-

And my only girl

Is dancing with the prince

Of many towns!

I just hope she's not

Ann Boleyn.

-

I hope

When I get out of here,

when I see blue instead of white,

that she'll be waiting

_____________________________________________

The movie is aaaaaaaaaagges away, so don't get exited until the right time, but I am bored so I made a poster! Charlotte doesn't exist, Click it for a really big version! What do you think? :)

I am annoyed, the last bit will probably be in the movie if I can make up a point for it. Woooohhoooooo...

"I am making my masterpiece. Anything you say about me, any dead bodies with me written on them you will se proven wrong. Bacause I can do anything I want. Don't you dare tell me what that is or it will be you at the bottom well I'm at the top."

"You are just afraid"

"I cannot talk to you Jack. Not until you've let me go"

"Oh. Well I don't feel like talking to you either! You will change your tune once I get into your house, drug your food. You'll wake up fucking your daddy with the new Isabella Junior just waiting to pop out!"

"Thats not what I meant"

"I've been waiting my whole life for this moment and its what I'll do! Watch your arse or there'll be a pretty blonde shit coming out it."

Blog Entry dated 13/07/2008 6:43 p.m.

This is posted using a fancy program, Adobe Contribute, but so far it does fuck all.

Haha! This is where Verbs Begins

Ok I all know you want to comment on those last two posts (Wink wink) so you can use this one, in fact what do you think of the blog, where it's going, where its been, what would you like to see more of? Say something useful at the very least...

Wait- It isn't autumn is it?!?

Lastly, Moments.

__________________________________________

It’s just a leaf
But I’m the one that saw it fall
To me it’s coloured pink,
With violet wings
As it falls

For the first time
My window is solid
As it hits the ground

The ground! That bears,
The fruit of nothing
But heartaches,
For a while

My ground! That lives
A violent man inside
Whose tomb is warm
Without you little leaf,
My violet flying leaf,
For just a moment
Show my heart
Your path

-

(Sorry guys I had a moment, I HAD A MOMENT OK FELLAS?, (All clap))

Anyhoo, today I have gotten a little further. My mum wants to see our movie, and I told her she can't. Goddammit.

And I want a charachter in my story to get rabies. it just oooozzes cool,

Hard to make it make sense though, and mean something at the same time...

You have a zit!

Zits are for girls who care. I have skin, but a zit for you will always be a beauty spot for me-

-Oh beauty bullshit spot! I've been your age and I know that an ugly pussball is always going to be an ugly darn pussball... But then I was a bit of a niggerpotomas

Niggerpotomas.

Fat nigger. There's still plenty of fat niggers around believe me, You don't hear it now because in the eighties people started using ph-fat.

Not so cool,

not so cool. Your zits a zit.

That is the entire fruits of today's labour. Dialougue is hard for me.

My mum asked me today whether or not my movie was portraying women in an acceptable way. wtf, of course not, its about a boy's sexual fantasies,

Not in kansas anymore!

__________________________________________

In the moment
I can’t see the stars-
It’s cloudy in my arms
Again
-
As I drop the phone
The blood seeps from my eyes
My time is my surprise
And I show my age at last;
-
Write the words
By pressing buttons
That are meaningless
And in that we are the same;
-
Always slightly overdone has
Been the way for me

As I stumble though my years

-

This year's a mess

And its only me-
-The one-
To blame.
It’s all I've gained!
You are too late though,

because, as it goes,
you missed the parlour games!
-
And it looks like rain,

-

At last.

Everyone end up bothered but me

I am cleaning out my english folder. Mr Ruge said I did jack shit in in english, I got my report. Thats not true, I did more than in most classes, I also did a few odd doodles when To Kill a Mockingbird studies were at their lowest:


Mr Blue,
In the nude
Spies Mrs Tee and Dee
Getting rude,

Thats crude

-

Wordless love

It’s a lovely day for dreaming
Of birds and blue and hair,
Though I’m never one for skipping,
I’m dancing through the air

It’s so bittersweet
But oh so sweet

The nectar of my love
Has been sucked dry from the stale milk in my lungs,
Though it is hard to believe
Only now I cry,

I’ve never been happier
Happier without love!

Rarely,
But finally now
I wish I could relate to you in French words!
To think I found myself cold
Because ice don’t warm blood
A ballad for all the lives I’ve broken
Is a snowstorm of love?

So now I’m,

Sitting in cafès
Avoiding all my family
Until I want things
Then getting them to notice me
I’m so elated
I speak in loves own words

Watching a seagull
Level with the windowpane
Makes me dream of
Movie love in the rain

It’s always bitterly
Bittersweet
I am loving love for words of love

-

The situation of the Maori era


Up north they are,
Not for me
I’m Classic White,
Egg white,

You see me because I’m splattered
In a bowl,
With your milk;
I don’t care
So I stop,

-

Blackbird Pie

His lightening fingers grace the page
forever now his own
A bleessing,
dnd a hurt,
The buttons come alive

First the sizzors of anarchy
cutting throught the silk
No!
First the cry of argument
Over forever now,
spilt milk

"You cannot keep me in your arms!
I wail
and I'll slutter
The way a genius should!"

His only regret yet
His skilless rage
Their ignorance proven
He didn't learn to sticth

Fucks it up,
Good and proper,
the way a genius should

Yes... Anyway, Someone told me I was a sex god today, as a joke, but it's still bullshit.

Adobe master collection CS3

Thats the one,

Jack and Aya get to a place where they are lying on top of each other, Aya sitting in between Jack’s legs with thin cigar, Jack lying down, when Isabel walks in to tell Jack her answer, she stops and looks astonished:

Aya: Helloooo…

Isabel walks out

Aya to Jack: I am just so righty tighty aren’t I?

Jehosaphat defeats Ammon and Moab,

our unplayed movie for the film festival, is now on youtube, read the last post too

Pussycat I bet you wouldn't even know what it tastes like, you ain't a lesbian yet

My blog seems to be a dump for shit poems lately, well a while ago, I haven't posted in ages, so this post shall start off as such:


Over The Rainbow

Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
There's a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true

Some day I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where troubles melt like lemondrops
Away above the chimney tops
That's where you'll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly
Birds fly over the rainbow
Why then, oh why can't I?

Some day I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where troubles melt like lemondrops
Away above the chimney tops
That's where you'll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly
Birds fly over the rainbow
Why then, oh why can't I?

If happy little bluebirds fly
Beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can't I?

Great song, anyhoo. I haven't posted lately because there doesn't seem to be much wrong with me. No, not really. Drama was good, not fantastic, but good. The movie is- AHA!

The movie. Verbs, I don't know when it will be coming out, just that it will. Sometime, when we have found lots of kids that are prepared to get naked on camera. I might have to cut that scene out. Or I guess we could just take a feild trip to india and get some little prostitutes to film with. Thats terrible, I should delete that.

Anyhoo, I suck at screenplays. Its because of all the dialougue? Because I can't talk to people in real life. Thats it. Anyhoo it is very slowly coming along. Its rubbish though, I just finiashed writing a scene where Jack rips his eyes out, and its rubbish.

Really.

All about me this post is.
And I'm even self-rightious enough to make jokes about five year old indian whores, twice now.

I'll shut up.

No I won't. Everyone sucks, they have all turned into such cunts lately. Well some of them turned sooner than others, and some were always like they are, but there are lots of people who have become really bitchy all of a sudden, to everyone, and everyone has to one or another degree. Even me I would suspect, but i couldn't see it because I'm me.

If you're reading this and you happen to have turned into a bitchy cunt stop it.

I still love everyone though, well not everyone, but everyone I ever did I still do! Love you all!\

<3

Endlessly

My glasses on,
I’m helmet head
Shaking all that
you have ever said,
Though your skin
will always call me,
into paradise.

Of course its worst
When I’m in bed
I rub my face
Till my eyes are red,
I sing for truth!
And you chorus boldly,
Love me do you?

But now,
At last,
I’m beautiful;
To me.

But wait!-

A hug is nothing more
than a sample peace
You gave to me
to seek release
What a slut!
A whore!
In the felled rings
of a crucifix!

I tried,
and you let me go
Above cupid’s stars,
and my farthest throw.

How about everybody just stops touching me for a while?!

What

is

the

most

curious

aspect

of

your

dreams?

Whats the most you've ever lost on a coin toss?

It would be a shame if it was your life. I should do that someday. We need that sort of stuff for our movie, a line as good as that, and a charachter as subtle and sinister as Churguh.

.

It's going to be genius if it works.

.

How's life? Generally nice?

Ish?

Great?

Ish?

Amazing?

Ish?

My life is a bit better. It'll get better in the future I hope. Hope. Is a nice word, I should think about it more often. Everyone hates me, and no-one loves me.

STOP! (I need to know how)

I guess I could move friend groups, I'm sure the Thomas-Jonny group would be happy to see me... The Robert-Harrison posse would get used to me... At a stretch I might even be welcomed into the Tiffany-Sarah group, the certainly seen to be the friendly type... And then after a while when everyone has forgotten about me (or I have forgotten about everyone?) I could return with hugs and kisses all round.

-

Other people (from my observation) seem to do that kind of thing all the time. When one group gets sick of them they move on to another, and maybe another, and then come back. Like they get bored with their friends. I never get bored with my friends, but I think sometimes they might get sick of me. Maybe I should disappear forever. Maybe not.

But anyhoo, something has to shift. Change. And I feel too much still. I need to stop that. And I get really worried WHEN I MUSTN'T BECAUSE THERE IS NO POINT!!! I don't even know what I'm worried about, just that I am. And I don't want enemies. Or people not being allowed to talk to me, or people not wanting to talk to me.

-

You lied. Again. I hate it when you lie to me, you most of all, because I trust you, and I give so much of myself (if not practically at least emotionally) to you, and I have done, and I give you so many second chances and every time you do the same thing and the you have the nerve and self-righteousness to tell me its my fault. Like I've wronged you and you have done nothing to me, when I have given so much to you! I am a different person now than I was when I set out. A miserable one. And don't think for a second that you are innocent because you are guilty most of all. For lying to me for so many months. And then lying after that. And now still lying. And you expect me to just put up with you. I can see why you prefer online relationships to real ones, and its because you don't have to care about your other, think about their feelings or experience their pain when you screw them up. And you can lie to them. I'm just guessing, but I think I'm right. I am prepared to forget, not forgive, I will be your friend forever if you want me to. But don't lie to me, and tell me if you want (or don't want) something, because I am sick of your disrespect, to anyone, let alone me! Right now you make me sick. But I am your friend.

I feel sick. On my birthday. This is the worst birthday I have ever had, I want to make myself happy again. And tempting myself isn't the way to do it. I need something to take my mind off things until I am prepared to face my anguish...

Any ideas?

(They were some quotes I got of internet forums by the way, to make them up would be dramatic even for me)

The only thing that doesnt remind me of you, are the tears i shed because of you....

JUST CALL ME A BOY AND SHOVE A KNIFE IN MY HEART!

Cya

Hello, Hello. This, is my attempt at a decent blog post.

Yeah I can't think of anything. Cya

The Revenge of the Fittest

Selly lettle gals
Speak in selly lettle ways

So raising skinny, bitchy little waiters
To be fucked
Makes sense to me at last

Like they know what they mean,
Or what they want

So let’s hang them off our dicks!
Keys on a key ring
And use butter to fit ourselves into their tiny heads

It’s not like they’re going to stop us
But they might find out… (Ahh!)
That we loose them like socks

So quietly now boys
Or they’ll think it’s us to blame
Leach off every one of us
And treat us all the same

I think its a little short... It certainaly doesn't last long. What do you think?

STOP FUCKING AROUND WITH MY HEAD AND TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT!!!

AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am going to stab myself with something now

Bitch Ugly Faces

Kill Me. Please.
You who has the power to be rich
Like I was rich

Yes you who loves to make me run
Without a single sponsor over my head
For a burning medallion

Yes you! Kill. Me.
Please.
Before you let me live for you

For I live to love
The glasses you craft
For your own disguise

And I love to live
In a self-sadistic hope
Of a you-me (dream come true)

But I love a ship that was made to sink
But for a single lonely boat
With you on it?!

Though now you go!
As high as a bird!
Leaving me here

You love to leave
My bitch ugly face
In your dust

Don't hold your breath

You know? No you don't. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

(It is so sensual to just flick between two keys like that!)

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I'll post later today when i think of something to post!

Cya

Verbs has changed. I shouldn't have started the blog yet, maybe not at all. I has moved from a westernish thing to an urban thing, on acount of it meaning more to me and readers (since I don't live in El' Paso)

-

Will my birthday party be a sucsess? Maybe. Maybe not, I don't know. I hope so. I really do.

-

This is not a good time to write a blog post, I am unhappy.

The last post wasn't for the masses, so this is...

I have been sad today. And I am finding it REALLY hard to look at girl from the healthy and personality angle rather than physical attractiveness! I can see why guys do it, its much more natural... Though it doesn't make much sense, cosidering I am not out in the world purely for sex, why would I be looking at attractivity anyway? It doesn't really matter does it!



Sigh, but I am trying. All you skinny good looking girls out there are screwed (If you want me, it seems they don't).



(full stop)



I am over feeling bad. Horrible. I want to climb through a chain link fence into a school and run away when a teacher is spotted.



Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Stop going insane Blair!

I want to start again, to be reborn without all my emotional stuff that has built around me! So I can make choices that won't hurt me, and listed to apparently wise advice. But than that might also mean I wouldn't know the people I love now, and i don't want that. I am rambling again. But i wish i had mever set out along this path!

Lets talk about sex kids!

(<-)
See, all better! Well probably not, that wasn't very nice of me. I am again sorry

Please don't shag me, I'll trap you into making a promise

If I wanted to get laid I could. I reckon. But I would have to be the worlds biggest prick. Issac style. And be really slutty and piss people like me off. But I don't really want to get laid. Not really. I would much prefer to have a relationship that works and fulfils me.

Is that weird? Not to want sex so much? If I made a list of guys I know and then went down it I bet nine out of ten would be desperate for a fuck. And the same nine would probably turn down a serious relationship. Well, eight out of that nine maybe. But still. What is it about sex that is so desperate?

That's not to say I would turn it down. I mean sure if some good looking chick sauntered up and started being really flirty and horny I'm hardly going to go "Fuck off you horny bitch, you just want me for sex" am I? But still I would want some security of a nice personality and a continuing relationship, after the sex. Unless they were REALLY good looking.

The I am Writing Verbs Decision

I seem to have fullfilled the prophecy I wrote with that movie idea I had, verbs, where my love destroys itself. Mybe I should write the book. I shall.

Many thanks to Siobhan for commenting, even if I wasn't fully sure whether you were taking about the post or yourself, but I thought I was talking for myself for a while there.

Thank you. To all who are there for me.

If I believed in revenge

you would be dead by now

'Oh he made my blood just burn! I flipped do far I thought that I would not return!' (Get him back - Fiona Apple)

I don't know why I wanted to talk to you in the first place!

But I did.

This is like email isn't it (but one way)

Maye that's how I like it, or maybe not. And (just as things POP!!! into my head) when I said that I couldn't live without you, did I mean it? Really? Surely not, because that would mean I would die - but so far I am not to sure. Maybe it just takes time. Siobhan said months (but she has _ (<- That much) experience), but how long has it been? Month? Months? I can't remember the date - today or the day.

But (I don't know if you have noticed yet, you might not have (Truly!)), when I hear an angry tone, or unsympathising attitude (though I should be used to that by now), it really upsets me. And I mean really upsets me, for days, or weeks if it is allowed to.

I am a very fragile person, by many peoples doing - including myself, and I snap. I aren't depressed or anything, but I have similar symptoms (is that possible?). I am dragging on a bit so I'll stop.

Please be nice! I can't live without you!

I opened my eyes

While you were kissing me once, more than once

And you looked as sincere as a dog

Just as sincere as a dog does,

When it's the food on your lips with which it's in love

I bet you could never tell

That I knew you didn't know me that well

It is my fault you see

You never learned that much from me

Oh you silly stupid pastime of mine

You were always good for a rhyme

And from the first, to the last time, the signs

Said 'Stop' - but we went on whole-hearted

It ended bad, but I love what we started

It said 'Stop' - but we went on whole-hearted

It ended bad, but I love what we started

I took off my glasses

While you were yelling at me once more than once

So as not to see you see me react

Should've put 'em, should've put 'em on again

So I could see you see me sincerely yelling back

I bet your fortressed face

Belied your fort of lace

It is by the grace of me

You never learned what I could see

Oh you silly stupid pastime of mine

You were always good for a ride

And from the first to all the last times, all the signs

Said 'Stop' - but we went on whole-hearted

It ended bad, but I love what we started

It said 'Stop' - but we went on whole-hearted

It ended bad, but I love what we started

(a song)

Sydney

Hello From Sydney...

...said the blair monster...

...And welcome to a Sydney special...

...From a boy who can't be bothered with you right now...

...Yup...

It isn't any easier.

Goodbye.

The opposite of Life is death? Is it? I would like to think so, the Bible would like to tell me so, but really?

What is life? Concious... So the oppisite of that is unconcious right?

Is that death? No. Well maybe, well, actually, I dont know...

Exiting stuff! Anyhoo I wonder because if I hate life will death really stop it? Fix it? (I'm not saying I want to kill myself.. Life can be in many dimensions...)

I don't know if it will... So how do I stop conciousness?

I dont know...

Fargmented aren't I?

Or exited.

I want to be happy!

NOW, not in a few months time!

But how?

Tell me...

'This is the last time I'll abandon you!

This is the last time I'll forget you!

I wish I could'

I am a miserable fucker aren't I? One would think, with all the nice things I have to say about other people, I could say some wonderful things to myself that would make me feel better, but no, miserable fucker. I am miserable.

However within my misery I wonder at life, it has become an obsession lately (which is better than death like last time I guess), how people are made for it, and display it in everything they do. 'Life in every breath' And how people are formend, how beautiful they are, everyone not just the good looking ones, and how wierd that is! That lumps of fleash and bone and gristle can be beautiful... The most beautiful thing of all.

In fact its killing me.

Why Kids don't like Needles

Look at what You’ve done
And what you seeked me out to do
Bury me in time?
When I have just been born to You?!

Maybe made in-vitro
But Your child all the same
Can You stab needles in my temple
And say the I’m to blame?

And wherein lies Your limit
When You’ll stop and see my tears
And how You’ve let your child down
Before it rose to see its years

I’ll be gone before You find my carcass
Say sorry for Your plight
And sorry too for all You’ve done
To kill me in the night

This is the last of my emotional!
The end of April fools
The time of making enimies!
This time its not me,

Its You.

Forget the livejornal thing, but there will be a new blog soon!

Love you

Where's My Plug In Baby?!

More of a biblical studies doodle than a poem:

Love Life

Taste me/my love,

There'll be sweetness at heart,

But you'll find the bitterness!

And is it that betterness?

Or is what I've created,

Just not enough?

I want someone who loves me!

And if that cannot be you

Should I die alone?

In a house by a river

Where only boats come to visit

All of them empty?

My heart might not be broken

But it sure is forgotten

With no-one who loves me

Your my plug in baby! Crucifies my enimies! I love that song! You should download it, Plug in baby by Muse, their other songs are good too!

Also, I have started a jornal on Livejornal.com! Its not so much a blog as it is a record of my experiances, so yeah feel free to join me if that tickles your wickle!