2005 : Good Ridance

Any year that gives us “My Humps” by the Black Eye Peas and “Laguna Beach” is deserving of nothing but utter contempt and scorn. It’s raining outside, i’m frazzled from 2 weeks of drinking, i have too much college work to do and i’m listening to Atmosphere. So from where i’m sitting 2005 was a big pile of rancid badger shite and should be condemned as such. I’m struggling to come up with an apt metaphor to describe the year for me personally, so i’ll just say it was a nappy of mediocrity, sprinkled with occasional fun and a few nuggets of magic.

But I did get to go on the Back to the Future ride and dress like a Ninja, so maybe it wasn’t that bad.

Good things:
Kanye West “Late Registration”
Edan “Beauty and the Beat”
Cage “Hell’z Winter”
Im sure im forgetting aload of albums, but these three come to mind.
Team America : World Police
The 40 Year Old Virgin
Nathan Barley
Batman Begins
Sin City
Crash
The Exorcism of Emily Rose
Back to the Future Ride (well, America in general)
The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (film of the year)

Bad Things:
Natural Disasters
Terrorism
Patrick Vieira leaving Arsenal It’s only occuring to me know what a loss this was. I’m heartbroken.
Global Civil Unrest
Madonna (we all know how i feel about her)
The new Pope being a biggoted Nazi.
Lost What a load of wank
Live 8
What a steaming pile of SHITE that was. A bunch of self-important pricks thinking that Elton John blowing Pete Doherty live on stage would convince George Bush to stop being an evil fuckwit and give all his money to smelly fuckers who hate him anyway. DREAM ON GELDOF. Back to the fucking homeless shelter with you. Did they really think that a bunch of FUCKING POP CONCERTS would change the minds of the political/corporate elite? Bono’s a bigger fucking idiot then i thought. What a complete waste of time/effort. The bbq we had that day was probably more of an influence on world politics. Oh, and it was a Michael Jackson freedom bbq! There was a good thing for the list. Another bad thing was
Gary Glitter NOT being shot to death for being a filthy pervert.
and Pete Doherty NOT falling to pieces and being eaten by crows.

I HAVE IT! 2005 for me was like STAR WARS REVENGE OF THE SITH! Kind of entertaining, had a few great moments, but overall you can’t help feeling it wasn’t the best. Plus there were too many shite bits in it that almost ruined it. THATS IT! Thank you, and see you in 2006.

So that was Christmas. What did you do?

Once again, I wanted war to be over, but amazingly the worlds armies did not down their weapons at my whim as promised by John Lennon.
I hope and trust your Christmas was magical! Mine has thus far consisted of continueing boozing, excessive eating, film watching and being cold. Love it. I’ve learned that West Side Story is the gayest thing I have ever witnessed. (If street gangs were really like that, old grannies would be terrorising them) and that Christmas for me really starts at about 4 o’clock on Christmas Eve. That’s when the Karate Kid (which Channel 4 in their infinite wisdom have shown at the same time for the last few years) reaches its finale. It’s the best scene in movie history, and makes the hairs stand up on my head when ever I see it (or even think about it). Fantastic stuff.
Tonight its the Rugby Club fancy dress, where theres little chance of us retaining our title, but in our own way we’ve done ourselves proud. Pictures to follow.
Then, its a premature end to Christmas as I have an increasingly large and terrifying amount of work to do. Oh, and i have to destroy every copy of that new Reese Tablespoon puke-bucket rom-com shit stain featuring the fella what played Napoleon Dynamite rape his own soul.
keep it street.

Four days on the trot

Wowsers. You knows its christmas time.
Saw King Kong last night, its the monkey’s oversized nuts! Much better than expected. Giant apes rule. Special effects held up, lots of action and a monkey fighting dinosaurs. What more does man need?
The town was heaving with drunkards, eating chips and shouting incoherently at each other. Even that bastion of nothingness Amber had a queue outside. A queue mainly composed of men tho :/
Gotsta go do some pre-christmas shizzle, and get my St. Stephens night costume together. It’s becoming a little bit special my plan. Let’s just say another of my life long dreams will come true this year.
GET SPEAKERS AND WINDOWS MEDIA PLAYER AND WATCH THIS, ITS A HOOT : Lazy Sunday (The Chronic-WHAT-icles of Narnia!

Christmas Presents.

God bless those crazy bastards at google. After making the best email thingymajig ever, they then make the most entertaining thing ever with google video. You can browse through this stuff for ever…..here’s some gems.
German Engineering vs Arab Technology
The Best Christmas Lights Display EVER
Not the father!!!
AND THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME > TOM CRUISE VERSUS OPRAH!
Pure amazingness.
Speaking of google, if you were so inclined you can get Off the Meatrack updates to pop up whilst you’re browsing your gmail! So you’ll always know when I have written these important things that mean so much to you (although in all fairness if you’re not checking in EVERYMORNING to see if i have graced you with my thoughts then you’re probably a worthless piece of shit). Anyways to do it click on settings in the top right hand corner, go to Web Clips, then put www.offthemeatrack.com in the search bar at the left, and it will show you a link, go to Add. And ping! Magic will be made.
Wow. This is the first time i think i’ve ever posted 3 days in a row.

Get Drunk And Die Tryin’

Well, my Get Drunk And Go Broke Tryin’ 2005 christmas tour continues with wreckless abandon. Last night was the almighty trinity of Russells/House in Rockfield/Amber (a classic), wherein I sang “We Built This City” on a kareoke machine, drank copious amounts of alcoholic based beverages, and did various other things. It was also part two of my vodafone reunion jaunt, where rumours of my impending return to the Ramparts spread like wild fire. It was all good fun though, more or less a drunken haze, BUT i think i am slowly regaining my memory skills. Since the Wednesday Blackout of doom! i have more or less been able to drink with a reasonable level of recollection the next day. Which is not always a good thing. But regardless, VH1 are playing a litany of Christmas songs (Annie Lennox and Al Green “Put a little love in your heart” from Scrooged is a forgotten classic), I have to go do my Christmas shopping. And i Just got off the big white telephone from God. Unfortunately I had nothing to say to him. But He tells me ye are all FUCKED.

Big up to Adam who presented me with a wonderful Christmas present, a fully stamped up Subway card! In return I told him i’d mention him here. Big up yourself.

You Can’t Go Home Again.

It’s all changed. Everythings different, noone looks the same, they all speak a confusing coded dialect. You can’t go home again. But you can pop in for a visit.

In other news, last night I performed an amazing unintentional cockblock. A friend of mine enjoyed the presence of a female variey in Ridley’s last night, and gave her his number. Afterwards she texted him whilst we waited for a taxi and I took it apon myself to reply for my drunken, excitable friend. Due to being slightly intoxicated and unfamiliar with the workings of his mobile I accidentally deleted said message, thus ending my friend’s chances of a repeat performance. Sorry. It really was an accident. But a funny one, and that’s what counts.

The Christmas alcohol train is beginning to gain dangerous momentum.

Thoughts from a library 2: The Revenge

Like a rabbit in the headlights, I sit in frozen terror; staring at the luminous beams of two exams for which I believe myself to be woefully under-prepared hurtling towards me. Surrounded by books, notes, articles and the internet, what do I do? Of course, I write about it here. And so continues the fine tradition of me using anything whatsoever to distract me from the everpresent cloud of college work that hangs so darkly above me. I’m even writing in the most flowery, drawn out language possible to prolong this distraction.
God in his infinite wisdom, also found it appropriate to give me my first non-drinking related headache in an age. One which has decided to stick with me for the week incidentally, and which worryingly is only ever lifted (all be it temporarily) by cans of Coke. So, until Saturday mid-day I am keeping myself emersed in the collected thoughts of Noam Chomsky, the finer details of Entrepreneurship, and a steady diet of Coca-Cola. After which I will emerse my self in the worst lager Diageo can offer me.
If I make it through these coming days of impending doom, I will write something equally interesting next week. And i’ll also tell you how you can get Off the Meatrack to pop up along the top of your Gmail inbox.
Bet you can’t wait.

Sleep is the cousin of death

I knew something embarrising was going to emerge from the alcoholic haze of Wednesday night. I’m frankly suprised this doesn’t happen more often, given my regular habit of falling asleep whilst the party is in full swing. Note to self: Stop drinking for 8 hours solid.
Although it does explain why i woke up covered in badminton equipment….that’s one mystery solved. I’m sure more of my drunken deeds will be replayed to me in squirmish detail…ah well.

Back To The Future!

Hello!
Nothing much of note to say unfortunately. I think I might have set my own bar a bit too high with my Madonna rant….
Life continues without incident here in my corner of the universe, last day of college for the semester tommorow. Thankfully, by some divine stroke of justice most of our deadlines have been moved til after Christmas. Which makes for a more relaxing end of term, but (and this is the bit which i havn’t contemplated properly yet) means for a busier Christmas. Ah well. As long as its not tommorow, i don’t really care. I’m all about living day to day, kind of like the Littlest Hobo.
One thing I do have due in, and which I just finished is the 2006 Off The Meatrack calender!. Now, those of you hoping to get 12 saucy pictures of yours truely in skimpy outfits……congratulations! Your wildest sexual dreams have been fulfilled. ENJOY! Thank you to all ye who contributed.
Also heres the amazing A-0 poster!
Next up is a horrific week of study for el exams le dooooom, so activity here might be quiet…but in the post-exam/pre-Christmas period I’ll have some wacky stuff for us all to do here. Hope you are pooing your pants in excitement…
So, end of term pints tommorow, then aforementioned week of cack, then its Christmas…fantastic……I’m preparing my wallet and liver for sustained damage

Here’s some more treats….
Chopper does the weather! (video, needs sound)
ALL GLORY TO THE HYPNOTOAD
YOU’RE GAY FOR MOLEMAN!!! (needs sound)

I hope Madonna doesn’t get into heaven.

So, for some unknown reason, I subjected myself to Madonna’s new documentary tonight. A bloated, self-indulgent “Triumph of the Will” for this godforsaken celebrity obsessed generation of revolting zombies. From her seemingly endless scenes of pre-show prayers (“may we inspire these people to be who they want to be”), to her cod-Judaist claptrap to her not-so-subtle attempts at satire (oh! fashion models with gas masks on! how radical!) it was an offensive sludge of nonsense.

Her anti-war segment was laughable, but worse was Michael Moore’s sycophantic testimony (“the concert moved people, when she showed the picture of the Israeli child and the Palestinian child embracing, they started crying, cause they want to live in a world like that…” Thanks for making me hate you, Mike). She even went to try and save Israel! (“Can i make a difference?”) I was actually shocked that her presence did not immediately put a stop to the centuries old conflict in the region, and find the resolution to the quagmire that has evaded peacemakers for half a century….But we did get to hear her butcher “Imagine” whilst showing stock footage of war, famine, and (i shit you negative) an Arab and a Jew walking into the sunset. I can’t believe that didn’t work.

The most offensive part though? The bit in Ireland before the Slane gig. Of COURSE it opened with hey-diddly-diddle music, and footage of quaint country roads, simpletons milling about little villages doing their menial tasks, and her dancers trying GUINNESS!!!! What a worldly woman you are, Madge.
Then she gushes that she felt so much love from “the people who stood for six hours in the rain to see me”. You know what, we really are a nation of fucking simpletons if 80,000 of ye did that.

At least I found out WAR IS BAD!!!!!
I hope God sends you to hell with a jackboot to the face, you washed up hag.

She ended with “Now do you understand my secret?”. Yes, I do. You are completely full of shit, and you know it.

Oh! And the credits ran backwards! You wacky nut!