Little. The little feather, little.

27 Jan

This is a little story about a little feather. This little feather was, well, rather little. Yes, little, I think that’s the best way to describe the little feather. Anyway, moving on, this little feather had lived rather a sheltered life, or as sheltered as a little feather could possibly live. You see, the little feather was, hmm how can I put it? Attached, yes yes, attached to what could be considered rather a little bird. The little bird that our little feather was attached to lived in a little shed at the end of a little garden on the back of a little house. This little bird so happened to be the prize possession of a man named Steve Little. Mr Little, who was what some might call ‘a little man,’ loved this little bird more than anything. More than his wife (who was far from little), more than his children (who had grown up and were little no more) and more than any job he’d worked in. He’d tried his hand at many careers, doing a little bit of this and a little bit of that. But nothing, nay nothing could compare to the enjoyment he got from spending time with his little bird. The little bird however, who if we remember housed our hero ‘the little feather,’ did not as such return the love that it was shown from this little man. Nay, the only thing this little bird loved was the little seeds and little pieces of bread it received. It loved little else, and certainly not the little feather that nestled beneath it’s left wing. That’s not to say it singled out this particular feather, no, no, it just didn’t pay much regard to anything other than the little bits of food the little man gave it. The little feather, being a little feather and not as wise or knowledgeable as some of the more larger feathers that it shared accommodation with, would often be upset that it never received any attention. The larger feathers had at times reassured the little feather that the reason it was never shown any attention by the little bird was due to where it was placed. The little feather had questioned whether it could perhaps move to a place where it would be shown at least a little attention. This had made the larger feathers laugh. Not a little, but a lot. Soon afterwards the larger feathers became rather nasty and teased the little feather, which left the little feather feeling a little lonely. All the little feather wished for was a little bit of attention and love, yet this was not to be. Until one day, a day that bore little importance to anybody but the little feather and the little man, everything changed. The day had started like any other day. It was a little bit cold and a little bit wet, but being a little feather nestled beneath the wing of a little bird who lived in a little hut, it being cold and wet had little relevance or effect. The little man had come out of his little house, walked down his little garden path and opened the door to the little hut. Everything was normal. The little mans wife, who as we established was far from little, had opened a little window of the little house and shouted insults at the little man. She was more than a little jealous of her little husbands love for the little bird. The little man sighed a little. This was far from a new experience for the little man, the little bird and the little feather. It happened often. What did not happen often however, was the little man’s far from little wife poking a little rifle out of the little window and firing. A bang echoed around the little garden and into the little hut. The little bird screeched and soared up into the sky, more than a little scared. The little man shouted, at both his less than little wife and his prized little bird. The little bird fell down as fast as it had risen and smashed into the ground near a little plant pot. The little man screamed and shouted, why he even cried a little as he saw a little bit of blood seeping from a little hole on his prized little bird. The little bird was dead. It was whilst the little bird was falling to its death that the little feather had became, shall we say, unattached? Yes unattached. The little feather had became unattached and floated free from the little bird. To say that the little feather was a little scared would be an understatement and a half. Scrap that, it was at least an understatement and two thirds. Possibly seven eighths. It had never known a life without being attached to the little bird, so as it floated along in a little breeze, it was a little apprehensive as to what the future might hold. After some minutes of floating over some little hedgerows and some little paths it came to a rest on a little boy’s hood. It had inadvertently landed in the little playground of the little school that was a little distance from Mr Little’s house. The little boy shrieked as he felt something brush the back of his neck and grabbed the little feather instinctively. The little feather looked into the little boys eyes and saw that he was a little curious. Whilst the little feather was a little scared, he also felt a little wave of hope. This little boy was giving him the attention that he had craved for so long. The little boy stroked the little feather with his little hands and told another little boy to look at his lovely little feather. The other little boy took the little feather off the little boy gently and stroked it as well. The little feather was delighted. These little boys really knew how to give a little feather a loving stroke. It was a far cry from what it had received from the little bird and the little feather felt truly grateful. A bell rang out and the little boys ran towards their little classroom and sat at their little seats placing the little feather on the little table in front of them. The little boys teacher came into the classroom and asked all the little boys and little girls if they’d had a good lunch break. A chorus of ‘yes, miss’ went around the little classroom from all the little boys and little girls. The little boy who’s hood the little feather was feeling so fortunate enough to land on, raised his little hand in the air, and announced that he’d found a lovely little feather. The little feather swelled with pride and felt truly happy. Finally there was someone who would shower him with the attention and love that he had always desired. The teacher (who was in fact rather little yet looked rather large on account of all the little people around her) came over to the table and took the little feather from the little boys little outstretched hand. ‘These are full of germs’ she said and threw it in a little red bin. As the little feather floated down to lie next to some little paper clippings and the remains of an apple core, he sighed, the life of love and attention was not to be. The little feather had experienced a little of it, and that was to be his fill. He had experienced what he had always desired. The little feather was satisfied. The little feather smiled. The little feather was happy.

Cop out!!!

22 Jan

And I wonder if you know, how it really feels?

16 Jan

And I wonder if you know how it really feels,
to be left outside alone, when it’s cold out here?
Well maybe you should know, just how it feels
to be left outside alone, to be left outside alone.

All my life I’ve been waiting for you to bring a fairytale my way
Been living in a fantasy without meaning, it’s not ok. I don’t feel safe
I need to pray.

Left broken empty in despair
Wanna breath, can’t find air
Thought you were sent from up above
But you and me never had love
So much more I have to say
Help me find a way

And I wonder if you know how it really feels,
to be left outside alone, when it’s cold out here?
Well maybe you should know, just how it feels
to be left outside alone, to be left outside alone.

All my life I’ve been waiting for you to bring a fairytale my way
Been living in a fantasy without meaning, it’s not ok. I don’t feel safe
I need to pray.

Why do you play me like a game?
Always someone else to blame
Careless, helpless little man
Someday you might understand
There’s not much more to say
But I hope you find a way

Remember child of God, there is little to fear when the Lord is there. Give yourself to the Lord God Almighty and he will protect you from anything and everything. Despite this you should avoid bad areas where there’s a chance you might get mugged, raped or murdered. Or all three. Also make sure you’re not born in Africa or any low developed country. Also make sure you are not born into a Muslim family or any other religion (other than Judaism, I think God sympathizes with them for having to dress like twats). Also make sure you attend church every week. Also make sure you donate regularly. Also make sure you pray often and only give your love to God.

Also. Also. Also.
God should come with a disclaimer. The narcissistic cunt.

sentences. better are than. words. letters. mean more. space.

10 Jan

LOWERcase. rendering mean. medium. mode. cases or case – those that define themselves as case or cases but are in fact LOWER.
case.
not to be con-fused, nor fuzzled with the the the whims o whams of case casing. a villainous utterance that speak -> no more -> shall.

where whimsical dealings give but little regard to social norms. forms that be pendent-de on such such. hush, now hush.

inDEED oi, with seasonal changes and changes of season. the eb-flow of flowing eb hinders the hindering of those grubgrab snubbers who would have it hindered beyond hindered. grubbing their way. grabbing their way. cretinous filth

see you starve. they would. future looks dark. future looks bad. down go eyes, down go hopes. times, bad are, times.

yet in this time. in times such-> these -<-> as. Awaken! Awaken!

Get yourself down to
Southampton Way
Peckham
SE15

Go to the Chinese on that road between 12-5pm Mon-Fri and you can get
1. A soup of your choice
2. A main meal of your choice
3. 3 Spring rolls

All for £3.50, and it’s actually really fucking good! If you want further discount, then follow these instructions

1. It has to be the bloke who looks about 38-45. There’s only two other people who work there, one about 70, the other about 25, so it should be easy for you to know which one this is. Also 95% of the time he’s the one who takes your order.
2. Place your order.
3. When he asks for the £3.50, say ‘shut up you Chinese cunt, I ain’t paying’ and wink twice at him with each eye. So 4 winks in total. This is the secret password, it will get you a £1 discount. If you can be kind enough to pass me on as the referrer that would be greatly appreciated, it means I get more chicken pieces in my soup. My referral password is ‘your eyes are hilarious.’
4. Enjoy your discount Chinese meal.

A week without words

24 Dec

I do apologize, I have been.

Away. Different country. Borders. Flight. Effort.

Take what you will from that, and this.

Christmas. Have. Happy. A

Does Kim Jong-il’s death spell a brighter future for North Korea?

19 Dec

If you have little knowledge of North Korea and what goes on there, I would suggest watching this (though admittedly, pretty much everyone has very little knowledge on it, including the North Koreans themselves!)
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/programmes/newsnight/8711895.stm

There are some who believe the “dear leader’s” death will usher in a new age of openness with international diplomatic ties being re-established. From what I’ve read about it however, it would seem that this is unlikely to happen. The future leader, Kim-Jong-il’s fattest son (picture above) is very much an ‘unknown entity.’ For all we know, he could be a raving nutter. A nutter who would have no hesitation in pressing a ‘big red nuke button.’

If North Korea were to become more open and knowledge of the outside world was more readily available to its people, even more of them would defect. Without doubt. The threat of repercussions to family members left behind is what has kept a lot of them there already. Although if opinion polls are anything to go by, the north Korean people are the happiest people in the entire world. The fact that claiming to be unhappy could have you carted off to a labour work camp surely has nothing to do with the results.

How do you feel you would react if you were a North Korean? Would you defect? Would you attempt a coup? Or would you stick it out for the sake of your family? It’s quite a conundrum to be in. There is of course the possibility that people there are genuinely happy, but I find this hard to believe. A lack of food, electricity and the worry of being sent to a gulag for any discrepancy would be too much for me. But if you are told each and every day that you are the happiest people on this planet, that your great leader is the greatest leader and that elsewhere people scavenge on the streets and in bins for food, wouldn’t you be grateful to be there? You were born into this, indoctrinated from a young age to view the outside world as an enemy. It’s a bleak existence. Those who are fortunate enough to defect into South Korea are put into a school for two months to prepare them for the modern world. They are shocked at the availability of food, being able to possess a mobile phone and being able to access the internet.

Anyway, this isn’t my normal type of post, but with it being such a monumental day I felt I had to have a little natter about it. I have high hopes for the future of North Korea but don’t believe that we’ll see any progress for quite a number of years. Until that day, lets pray that the new fat leader, Kim Jong Un won’t press any ‘nuke buttons’ and if you think about it, there’s a good chance he may establish ties with the international community for the sole purpose of stuffing his fat face with Krispy Kreme’s. They’re that good.

Incredible similes from secondary school exam papers. Enjoy!

17 Dec

  1. Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.
  2. He was as tall as a 6′3″ tree.
  3. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
  4. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
  5. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
  6. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
  7. The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
  8. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
  9. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
  10. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
  11. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM.
  12. The lamp just sat there, like an inanimate object.
  13. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
  14. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
  15. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at asolar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
  16. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
  17. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
  18. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.
  19. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
  20. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
  21. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.
  22. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River.
  23. Even in his last years, Grand pappy had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it hadrusted shut.
  24. He felt like he was being hunted down like a dog, in a place that hunts dogs, I suppose.
  25. She was as easy as the TV Guide crossword.
  26. She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
  27. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
  28. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
  29. “Oh, Jason, take me!” she panted, her breasts heaving like a college freshman on $1-a-beer night.
  30. It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.
  31. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.
  32. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
  33. The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.
  34. Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any pH cleanser.
  35. Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie this guy would be buried in the credits as something like “Second Tall Man.”
  36. The thunder was ominous-sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play.
  37. The red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon.
  38. She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again.
  39. Her pants fit her like a glove, well, maybe more like a mitten, actually.
  40. Fishing is like waiting for something that does not happen very often.
  41. They were as good friends as the people on “Friends.”
  42. Oooo, he smells bad, she thought, as bad as Calvin Klein’s Obsession would smell if it were called Enema and was made from spoiled Spamburgers instead of natural floral fragrances.
  43. The knife was as sharp as the tone used by Rep. Sheila Jackson Lee (D-Tex.) in her first several points of parliamentary procedure made to Rep. Henry Hyde (R-Ill.) in the House Judiciary Committee hearings on the impeachment of President William Jefferson Clinton.
  44. He was as bald as one of the Three Stooges, either Curly or Larry, you know, the one who goes woo woo woo.
  45. The sardines were packed as tight as the coach section of a 747.
  46. Her eyes were shining like two marbles that someone dropped in mucus and then held up to catch the light.
  47. The baseball player stepped out of the box and spit like a fountain statue of a Greek god that scratches itself a lot and spits brown, rusty tobacco water and refuses to sign autographs for all the little Greek kids unless they pay him lots of drachmas.
  48. I felt a nameless dread. Well, there probably is a long German name for it, like Geschpooklichkeit or something, but I don’t speak German. Anyway, it’s a dread that nobody knows the name for, like those little square plastic gizmos that close your bread bags. I don’t know the name for those either.
  49. She was as unhappy as when someone puts your cake out in the rain, and all the sweet green icing flows down and then you lose the recipe, and on top of that you can’t sing worth a damn.
  50. Her artistic sense was exquisitely refined, like someone who can tell butter from I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.
  51. It came down the stairs looking very much like something no one had ever seen before.
  52. Bob was as perplexed as a hacker who means to access T:flw.quid55328.com\aaakk/ch@ung but gets T:\flw.quidaaakk/ch@ung by mistake.
  53. You know how in “Rocky” he prepares for the fight by punching sides of raw beef? Well, yesterday it was as cold as that meat locker he was in.
  54. The dandelion swayed in the gentle breeze like an oscillating electric fan set on medium.
  55. Her lips were red and full, like tubes of blood drawn by an inattentive phlebotomist.
  56. The sunset displayed rich, spectacular hues like a .jpeg file at 10 percent cyan, 10 percent magenta, 60 percent yellow and 10 percent black.


    Originally posted on the now defunct… losteyeball.com

Contemplating the existence of a ‘God.’

16 Dec

When I look up to the sky at night sometimes I do wonder ‘can our existence just be a coincidence? Are we here just through luck or is there a greater purpose?’ There are so many beautiful things on this planet, surely there has to be some type of creator of all this? An architect.

If you consider such things as the golden ratio and the Fibonacci sequence, these are prevalent in nature. Almost everything revolves around them, including our own DNA and bone structure. It’s almost like ‘God’ (lets take it that he/she/it exists) has designed us and our planet using a computer. He/she/it has written an algorithm on how it should be designed, pressed ‘create,’ it renders and from it we and everything around us are sprung.

Why, if we are to believe that there is no creator, does nature exist strictly using these fundamental design principles? This isn’t just about ‘how many rings a tree stump has’ or ‘how many seeds a sunflower has,’ this is about everything. Even reproduction. If you take bees for example, their reproduction follows the Fibonacci sequence. Firstly you should know that males bees are produced by the queen’s unfertilized eggs, so they have only a mother, there is no father. The female bee however, has both a father and a mother. Now if you take one male bee, how many parents he has, how many grand-parents, great-grand-parents and so on… You see that the number of bees of each generation follow the Fibonacci series exactly. This applies to both males and females, as well in almost every other species. It just seems like there is a design behind all this. Almost like this is in fact ‘a matrix’ world.

I’d almost take this as prove that a God does indeed exist. But not the God that Christians, Muslims, Jews… blah blah blah believe in. I feel that the God they believe in is a fictitious God created by man to instill rules for people to be governed. To strike fear into people to make them abide by rules. ‘If you do this you’ll burn in hell for eternity, if you don’t do this you’ll burn… blah blah blah.’ The people who have written these rules have no right or permission from ‘God’ to do this. God has not given us rules. We have given ourselves rules. I should add that I’m not against many of these rules, they are there to make us more considerate and better human beings. I’m against this ‘our religion is right, yours is wrong, you will burn…’

If God exists he/she/it isn’t the head of any religion, they are merely a designer. In this vast Universe is it beyond belief that perhaps planet Earth is merely a project for ‘far more advanced’ beings? That the design of Earth was merely work, in the same way that an animator who has designed Toy Story 3 is work? I don’t see why that is any less believable than the fundamental beliefs of the ‘back story’ of other religions. People let their lives be ruled by what some men (who didn’t practice what they preached) wrote hundreds and hundreds of years ago. If God existed you don’t need to praise him/her/it for them to accept you. You just need to take care of this beautiful planet they designed for us, and for all nature. Lets take Muslims for example, they are required to pray 5 times a day and fast for a month in order to satisfy their God. Yet many don’t recycle, many will drive to something only one mile away rather than walking. Is that taking care of this planet provided for you? No, its not. I’m sure God in his/her/its infinite wisdom would prefer them to cut down on the praying and sharpen up on protecting this world (if I get more Jihads for saying this, fuck off! Do the world a favour, become a suicide bomber, but only kill yourself. What I’m saying applies to all religions but the fact Muslims pray 5 times a day made it a better example and that’s why they were used).

God is who you want God to be, not what you are told they are. Live your life happy, follow your own heart and live by the moral compass instilled in you. If you do this then no God can be angry with you, and if they are, then that’s not the type of God you want to be associating with anyway. Be happy, don’t worry, enjoy yourself. There’s as much chance that we are a creation of a spotty alien computer geek as we are a creation of God.

I like Obama, but this is bullshit.

15 Dec

Earlier today the U.S. held a flag ceremony in Baghdad, signifying the end of of U.S military operations in Iraq. In his speech President Obama said…

“You have shown why the US military is the finest fighting force in the history of the world”

Are you fucking joking? In the history of the world?! Fuck you. What is he basing this on? Comparative scores? ‘Only 4500 of ours died, whereas 100,000 of theirs died. We beat them 20-1.’ Not even counting the British servicemen that died in ‘friendly fire’ from our inept neighbours across the pond. I have the utmost respect for the servicemen who have served and given their lives for their country, despite not agreeing with the reasoning behind the conflict. But if you gave some Romanian peasants $1 TRILLION to spend, I’m sure they could put together quite a force themselves.

I don’t believe the U.S. army has anything on the Romans or Hitlers Germany, I don’t even believe it has anything on the current British army. Sure they have more personnel, they have more money, but they don’t have the same training. They are too trigger happy and lack compassion.

I am here, I know, tarnishing a large group of adept soldiers with the same brush as some of quite frankly retarded senseless killers, and I do apoligise, I’m just rather angry with the choice of words. Today’s speech should’ve all been about ushering a new age for Iraq. Thanking all the service men from all nationalities for giving Iraq the oppurtunity to govern itself and prosper. Not banding on about the ‘mighty force’ of their military.

Once again can I say to my American readers, this is not an attack on you. It is an attack on your countries leaders past and present and the path that they have led this world down. You don’t like it or agree? Read what they have done http://bit.ly/vgGls5

Toothache, the pain of all pains.

14 Dec

For those of you who have experienced a bad toothache, you’re probably aware that it causes more pain than rupturing your colon, whilst giving birth to octuplets, who all bare a striking resemblance of the late Pavarotti, ie…they’re all fat little cunts.

It. Is. Awful.

When you are unwell its normal to wrap yourself in a duvet and sleep the day away. Sweating, shivering… generally looking like a skaghead going cold turkey. When you have toothache however, sleep is off the cards. ‘It ain’t gunna happen.’ You try, but all you hear and feel, is ‘boom, boom, boom’ as your pulse chooses to play the bongos on the painful area. Paracetamol? Ibuprofen? Your toothache laughs at their feeble attempts to block the pain. It’s like putting Frodo Baggins and Baby Spice in a tag team match against Achilles and Hercules. There will be only one victor, and it isn’t the two little fuckers who are miserable due to their respective destroyed rings. If you feel I’m over exaggerating, you haven’t had a proper toothache. You’ve had a small one.

Dentists and prescription pain killers are the heroes in this story. Move aside Achilles, move aside Hercules. Captain Buck o’Hare and Super Ted have arrived. You may have heard the phrase ‘pain is just weakness leaving the body,’ whilst I’d love to go along with this sentiment, I can’t. It’s not weakness leaving the body. It’s your body letting you know who’s boss. You might force feed it any number of harmful narcotics, drink steadily until your liver cries ‘fuck off you cunt’ or smoke until your lungs are as black as that weirdo AIDS looking guy in ‘Lost,’ but ultimately it’s the boss. It decides when enough is enough, not you. So when you do get toothache, don’t see it as a ‘I must take better care of my teeth’ thing, see it as a declaration of war. Get a glass/mug/bucket and scream into it ‘This is Sparta’ or something equally intimidating. The echo will travel through your body, letting it know that you won’t be bullied, you won’t lay down your weapons and come quietly. You will fight, to the very end. You will fight.