Saturday, June 16, 2007


Seasonal misery

The sun's out and bathing the lawn in gold, the bees are bumbling and the butterflies flitting, and holidays beckon. What better time to wallow in the cesspit of bitterness?

Here are some things that are causing me more annoyance than a hypothetical recrudescence of Herpes simplex.

Harry Potter. Will the world just get over him, for Christ's sake? It's only a series of children's books. Who gives a rat's arse if Magwitch dies in the end, or whatever? Note to grown men and women who openly read these books in public: you look like big babies. Especially when your lips move and you have to follow the text with your finger. May Harry catch crotch-rot off what's-her-name.

Asparagus. Not content with possessing a bitter, repugnant taste like those root vegetables your mother always forced you to eat, these bastard sticks make your urine stink so that even a few drops give the whole house the character of an 18th century Parisian pissoir. They're often served up as the main course, with a bit of garnish on the side. A handful of vegetables as the main course? I don't think so.

Gordon Brown. So he's going to be the next Prime Minister. Yes? And then what? Judging by the way this whole thing has been drawn out, the man is clearly a monstrous ego with legs and a false eye. Watch taxes on everything that's fun in life rocket into outer space.

Rose wine. Oh my God, I'm so happening because I like this strawberry-flavoured water all of a sudden. It's not at all because I've read that it's fashionable, I just... kinda have a taste for it, y'know? Bollocks. (Yes, I know there's supposed to be an accent on the 'e', I just haven't worked out how to do this.)

Music. I've started to realise that music is a colossal waste of time. I bought one of those iPod things two years ago and loaded it up, but do I listen to it? Ever? Do I f. Sometimes I look at my quite extensive CD collection and think, God, what I could have done with all that money instead.

Adolf Hitler and Joe Stalin. There are new books out about these two. How original. Please, just stop.

Psychotherapists. I met a psychotherapist acquaintance the other day and asked how he was. 'What do you mean?' he replied.

Foot Eater. He's become a real irritant to me, especially when I reread his blog. In fact, he makes me want to chew my own face off.

Alcohol. It doesn't work that well any more, have you noticed? I find I have to consume more and more to get the desired effect.

Serial killers. The golden years were the fifties to the eighties. We had Ted Bundy, Ed Gein, the Boston Strangler, Son of Sam, the Yorkshire Ripper, Jeffrey Dahmer and others. The nineties gave us Fred West and Harold Shipman, which wasn't bad. But lately? Not a peep. Come on, chaps, pull your fingers out.

Rosé wine: Try holding down the alt key and hitting the "e" key, then letting go the alt key and hitting the "e" key again.
Rosé Wine - You can hold down the ALT key and type 130.

Harry Potter - Mrs. W is obsessed. Maybe you could have a word with her for me?

Asparagus - So do Sugar Puffs.

Alcohol - Mix it with Night Nurse. Works like a dream.
"The sun's out and bathing the lawn in gold, the bees are bumbling and the butterflies flitting, and holidays beckon. What better time to wallow in the cesspit of bitterness?"

Glad to know I'm not the only one.

Re: Harry Potter -- You pretentious jealous Muggle.

Re: Asparagus -- Not everyone has the gene to be able to smell the asparagus chemical in urine, you know. This explains the French.

Re: Rose wine -- So very 1982.

Re: Music -- Dead on, mate. The last time I bought a CD, it was a different century. I looked in to getting on of those iPod thingies, but I can't figure out where you put the music in. Maybe my eyesight's getting worse as I age. No matter, the only music I listen to lately is the music from kid's shows and the Spouse Sparrow listening to Springsteen, which fuels my bitterness.

Re: Psychotherapists -- None of them over here can speak English, so they can't understand a fucking thing I'm saying, anyway. Nice work if you can get it, though, and probably one of the top all-time cons.

Re: Foot Eater -- One of the few things that keeps me sane. After reading him, I am reassured that I am nowhere near as fucked up as I thought I was.

Re: Serial killers -- It's the DNA testing; they catch them too fast nowadays, before they really get to go on a spree. Also, it seems everyone watches CSI or Law & Order, or what-have-you, and they all know to wear a hair net and douse the scene in bleach. The new trend is just random killings, anyway. Pattern killings are so last century. If you don't leave any DNA evidence, and you switch between men and women of all different ages and types, you'll never get caught. Erm, so I've heard.
Maybe it's time for a relaunch - you could become known as:

"The Blogger Formally Known As Foot Éatér"
I'll catch up with your blogs as soon as I can, etc, etc.

Philip: I tried that and it spelt out Foot Eater is a wanker, so you got me good.

Eddie: I tried that and it spelt out Foot Eater is the Oscar Wilde of his generation. I assume you're being complimentary, but... are you calling me gay?

FS: there's an Indian physician where I work called Dr Haripota. I'm not making that up. And... jealous? What does the billionairess J.K. Rowling have that I might envy? Thanks for mentioning Springsteen, by the way; it's made me realise that music isn't really as shit as I thought. Though Springsteen's last album was a big steaming pile of shit.

Kim: no, I'm formally known as Mr Eater, and don't you forget it.
Re serial killers, there was that guy in Norwich, he got a few....
e e

I can't make that thing Philip said work. First failure of the day. Now let's see if I can burn the cornflakes.
¡#º ¡#º

I can't make that thing Eddie Waring said work, but my results are a lot more interesting.
Only two superscripts more interesting than my e result, Philip. E, after all, equals emcee squared which is pretty blimmin' interesting, all said, even if I'll never wholly visualise what it's saying.

I'm going to try Eddie's other thing later - his alcohol and Night nurse thing just, you know, to see. Sugar Puffs are foul. I'll leave that to the sickos down on Sick-Sicko Street.

I was just scrolling down past all the comments there, and was alarmed to see Saddam Hussein being hung in an avatar. But it was only Kim snoring.
Psychotherapists, is it true they can see into the future merely by touching an object?
Foot Eater. He's become a real irritant to me
is that why you started the Blog "London Tranny?" I think Fred West was the best, I do not jest. Thinking about Rose and all those black men sure gets me hot. Ivan Milat in the 90's in Australia was pretty good too, not for his victims though.

I hate Harry Potter as much as I do lemurs and the film Zardo, which is a lot.
For god's sake Footie, do shut up. It hasn't stopped raining here in two weeks. I"m thinking of building an ark.
Philip and Eddie - neither of those tips worked for me.

I can't live without music, to be honest. And there is plenty of good stuff this century, you just don't find it looking at the charts or watching MTV.

I agree with you about Foot Eater though. What a cunt!
Binty: then I deduce that you are not a Mac user. Ha, ha. You poor benighted thing, you. Ha, ha, ha.

When all else fails, you can always google a site with furriners on it and copy and paste the letters.
Sorry to rub your noses in it, everybody, and especially you, FMC, but I'm dropping in to this site from a cyber-cafe in Nice. I take back everything I said in the post. Summer is great and all is well with the world. Now if only Tony Blair could disappear before I come back...
Harry Potter, never read it. You're right, who give's a monkey's about a boy wizard? Same as who gives a monkey's about some deaf dumb and blind kid being a Pinball Wizard?

Don't agree about alcohol and needing to consume more. I am thirty-six and these days two glasses of wine has me rolling in the aisles.

Too right about Psychotherapists being the biggest joke of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. How we will be laughed at in years to come when we tell people we paid upwards of 100 quid an hour to regurgitate our sorry tales of childhood woe to 'professionals' simply because our friends had told us, "If you go on about your fucking shitty childhood one more time I'll punch you in the chops."
i like music, expecialy the American Idol collevtions, thos make mef eel better about me.
If you think psycho-killers have lost their way in our world at war you may want to look into the trial of pig farmer Willie Picton going on near where I live.
This is what you need:
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