Wednesday, 12 December 2012

WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!!!


This actually may not be true, we won’t know until everyone is dead, and then that statement can be verified. 
Apocalypse Meow, apparently

But moving on, you all like a good threat don’t you? You crazy twits.

“Oh no, it’s the end of the world!” – it’s been the frikken imminent end of the world since the human mind developed a perception of time. So get over it. 

But today you are all having a little happy-share-freak-out over today’s date. 

For the people among you who never know what’s going on, today’s date is: 12/12/12.
Ooooohhhh spooky! Not really. But whatever. 

Apparently you ALL believe that this is the last repetitive date you will EVER see.

So what? I couldn’t give a monkeys. 

HANG ON A MINUTE!!!! Just you wait there a second… really? The last repetitive date? (I assume we all just forget about the ‘20’ bit? Even tho we know the trouble it can cause? Ok fine, whatever)

So… what about 01.01.01 (for stupid people: 1st of January 2101)? That is a repetitive date. 








(I’m leaving this bit blank to give that statement time to sink into your marzipan mind)









YEEEeeeEEESS… that’s the thing with cyclical calendars, they keep going around and around.

If Jeanne Calment lived to be 122 (And she was born in the flippen 1870’s) Then I jolly well intend to live at least another 89 years. 

Yes, I will concede that some of you are already pretty creaky… and some of you are so stupid it is a miracle that you have made it thus far, however have a little thinky think before you lie back and assume you won’t make it out of this century alive.

I’m going to need someone to rub my rancid toeless feet…

Friday, 7 December 2012

A Christmas Compendium

Right.

I have come to realise that I have been stupid by not realising how stupid you are. Stupid me.

What can I do to remedy this? Well nothing, you’ll be stupid forever, we all will.

appee birfdee (or close enough)
BUT!!!

(I like big buts. Har har har de har)

I can help you a little by giving you a handy compendium to all the nonsense and advice I have been giving you to help you to cope with the dreadful thing that is heading our way, no, not Sarah Palin, not the mayan apocalypse, tis the celebration of Horus’ birthday, sorry I mean Apollo, no erm …. Jesus, that’s the one. He’s the current favourite here isn’t he?

So here we go. 
(Click on the things that look like hyperlinks, they are hyperlinks)

How To Cope With Christmas:



That's it so far, I may gather all this advice together and sell it to you one day, so take it while its free.

Thursday, 6 December 2012

Blog World

Apparently there is something called a ‘blogosphere’.

It isn’t a sphere, it is more like a few puddles of dribbling, sycophantic, feint praise. A dirty little show-and-tell where everyone says that everyone else’s story is the best whilst sitting in an incestuous little daisy chain of second-hand love juice.
this is what the filthy thing looks like

They are all so desperately hoping that someone will read their words that they spend precious hours reading someone else’s and it has turned into a self perpetuating circle of drivel, more drivelling than my own.

No.

I had considered this whole ‘optimisation’ thingy; I had considered using strange methods in order to become an internet sensation, but once you scratch the surface of the little termite mound of vomitty dribble you soon realise there is nought but emptiness within.

This blog, yes the one you have your face stuck to, is my little vent hole, my little whaley blow hole, from forth this blow hole comes my mind and I think I shall keep my precious mind splatter just between us.

Wednesday, 5 December 2012

The Play’s the thing…

this is you
Do you know that quote? Well bully for you.

It isn’t relevant to this post, so that little piece of useless information you have filed away in your filth ridden mind will not be in use today, you will have to wait for another time, perhaps an overheard conversation, where you can but in and say ‘actually…’ and then produce your fetid little fact, like a regurgitated rodent corpse from the gagging throat of a gluttonous owl. 

For now, I mention a play only due to my sudden (not really sudden) and unexpected (well, known about long in advance) commitment to the production of a play!

WOOT WOOT!

It has been a long time since I have trodden, treaded, walked upon the boards, or the green or whatever those people refer to it as and I shall be hanging around in dark corners to ‘observe’, watching rehearsals and laughing with much merriment at performances.

It shall be joyous and wonderful and all the time I shall be taking notes and plotting my own dark and sinister plan… probably.

Tuesday, 4 December 2012

GAH!

That is a sort of noise of surprise and frustration.

The reason I am releasing such a noise at regular intervals is because everything (and I mean everything you can possibly think of in that fuzzy little mind of yours) is happening at once.

This thing, that thing, this responsibility, that duty.

Children’s birthdays (eurgh) which involves carving some sort of gift from what ever the heck I can find in the bin.
bursty bursty

The ‘festive’ season; which involves things like tree decoration (bloody Germans), and going to Christmas markets.

Then I have been asked to go to the woods with a couple of lads and a video camera; who could pass up that opportunity?

Not to mention poetry meetings, script readings, and something on Thursday. Who plans things for a Thursday?

All in all I am stretched to capacity, like a balloon, a big stretchy balloon filled with pus and venom, which is being stretched and stretched and stretched until it will eventually burst forth splattering its reeking contents across walls and startled spectators.

Enjoy your lunch.

Monday, 3 December 2012

How To: Deal with Secret Santa

DESTROY THEM!!!
Opt out of it. Don’t put your name in the basket or the box or whatever…

Just don’t.

But then there are some times when people put your name in for you, when I say ‘people’ we all know which ‘arse’ we are referring to. The self obsessed shit, who has nothing better to be doing with their time than making a Santa hat from paper and glue, then writing everyone’s name on a scrap of paper and going around making everyone pick someone from it so that they can buy a little gift at the ‘limit of £5’ which means ‘you have to spend £5’.

SO: you can always just buy something, buy some piece of crap that has been reduced and was originally a fiver and just don’t care or give a crap and keep repeating the same sad thing every year for the rest of forever.

OR

Just get a tag. Just make one out of some old crap on your desk and throw it into the pile of presents. Someone else will get the blame for the missing gift, and some new procedure will be put in place that will be forgotten about by next year. Brilliant, no money spent.

However, my best advice is this:

[Please remember that most people change their jobs every year if not every other year, so don’t over think this, just do it, enjoy it and walk away.]

The best way to do Secret Santa:

1) Take over – make sure you get there first, before the git, the arse, the little shit who normally does it has even had a chance to think about it. Now would be good.

2) Ensure that you make certain everyone knows the absolute utter importance of the ‘SECRET’ part of Secret Santa.

3) Double check the amount of people in your office, you must get this bit right.

4) Write your own name on pieces of paper, there must be one piece of paper per colleague. Hold Your Nerve!

5) Run secret Santa as usual.

6) Merry Frikken Christmas Arsholes!