Questions

Why do I have to wait for the beastie boys movie?
Am I sad because I recognize the music in this?
Why aren’t Queen played more on the radio?
What’s so special about the Arctic Monkeys?
Why don’t I find Only Fools & Horses funny?
Who has my dvd of “Lost in Translation”?
What ever happened to Dustin Diamond?
Why does this make me laugh so much?
How many Wayons brothers are there?
What becomes of the broken hearted?
Does Bono actually believe his shit?
Why did Arsenal become so shit?
What fun awaits me in Galway?
Why did January go so slow?
Why did Cam diss Jay-Z?
What colour is the wind?
What was Akira about?
Do I drink too much?
What’s goin’ on?
Who’s that girl?
Should I?
Why?
?

Not tonight lads….

Haha..sent in by a reader (name withheld)

You’re a cunt

Yes, You
Your sister? She’s a cunt
Your best friend? Cunt
Your art-fag friend who sellotapes his pubes to televisions and passes it off as art? He’s a cunt
Your mates who are in that ironic band who do punk versions of Neil Diamond songs? They’re a pack of cunts
Your stock broker brother who lives in Manhatten and shovels coke up his bellend? He’s a complete cunt
Your cousin who got trials with Stockport County and is the next Wayne Rooney and is a borderline date-rapist? A Cunt
Those commune living hippies who you met whilst backpacking through Asia last year and who grow hemp in their hair? CUNTS
Your graffiti artist friend who said that hip-hop died in 1993 and only listens to one San Francisco based rappers second EP played backwards? He’s a right cunt.
Your loudmouth fat fuckhole college classmate who claims he can drink 53 cans in 2 minutes and snort petrol? C-U-N-T.
All your friends are utter cunts.
Your girlfriend is a cunt.
Your boyfriend is a bigger cunt.
And your mate with that blog where he writes long winded diatribes that he thinks are clever and funny but are really just shit? CUNT.

Alf Stewart, we salute thee

Remember that one episode of Home and Away where Alf Stewart was going to kill himself, and he was visited by an aboriginal angel who showed him what Summer Bay would be like if he commited suicide, and it was like a Mad Max post-apocolyptic hell hole where kids ran wild in the streets, disrespecting their elders and littering with blatant disregard for morals and laws? One man was all that prevented that quaint seaside town from descending into chaos. One Man.

Alf Stewart, surf club manager, peacekeeper and legend
Flaming nora.

Strive, live life, fuck five I want a hundred and eight mic’s

yo it wasn’t even like that
I wanted my cardiovascular to fight back
cupid had me runnin’ circles blindfolded
in the daytime with a flashlight looking for her
yo, sit back, relax and smell the roses
a fly girl by any other name would still be that
but the trick is to see that
I’m caught in between future’s fantasies and memories I played back
told my man I started sword fighting
’cause fencing was similar to tongue kissing
if you wait too long you gonna end up confessin’
all I think about is you undressin’
I extended my thoughts in a relationship
but they sunk like the titanic relation-ships
she was in a love triangle
but it wasn’t like my feelings weren’t there to make it a square
penny’s for her thoughts
she’s my very own American Beauty, red petals when we talk
…the f word

Cannibal Ox
The F-Word
The Cold Vein

Life’s simple pleasures, sleep and Miami Vice

Is it wrong that I took delight today in torturing my 4 year old niece with the threat of removing her eyeballs with a toy Black & Decker drill and selling them to Chinese businessmen? Or that I would surgically attach her head to the body of a cat and make her perform in a circus? Well, it was alot of fun…

Saw Army of Darkness last night for the first time in aaaages. Forgot how good it is. Fell asleep towards the end ….although I did get my first uninterupted nights sleep since before Christmas. Which also coincided with my first 48 hour period without Coke in along time. Hmm….As a control, i should probably go drink a Can of Coke and see what happens…

The Miami Vice trailer is up, looks OK, Michael Mann can spin out a good yarn, but sadly it seems to be set nowadays. Tragically this will mean no pastel coloured suits and loafers with no socks or scenes with Crockett driving around in a convertible listening to “In the Air Tonight”. Colin Farrell does however, appear to be wearing a throw-back baggy suit and t-shirt combo at one stage. Tellingly, the soundtrack is Linkin Park with Jay-Z and NOT the TV theme. The more i think about it, this could be terrible.

And in ever worse news….Michael J. Fox is in talks to appear in a new Back to the Future film. Which isn’t bad in itself, but his ideas for it…make me want to set fire to my crotch.

Armageddon

haha. George Galloway claimed on Celebrity Big Brother last night that “nearly every muslim on the planet” (which he correctly points out consists of 1.5 billion people) knows who he is. What a tool, yeah, im sure the majority of people in Indonesia, Bangladesh and Sudan know who some bloated fat faced whingebag is cause he (shock, horror!) – is against the war in Iraq. (join the queue shithead). This is from the man who said to Saddam Hussein – “I salute your courage, your strength, your indefatigability.”, probably offered to blow him off too.

I’m quite taken with this years celebrity Big Brother. There’s an alright selection of eye candy (nothing special mind), Maggot from GLC and the tantalising prospect of Michael Barrymore going insane on live television. Pete Burn’s scares the living shit out of me, but I admire his use of a dead gorilla to annoy the hole off Jodie Marsh (who’s teeth, incidentaly, are like cats-eyes on the motorway when they gleem from her orange face)

In my own personal news, seems my plan to leave the sauce alone for the month were doomed from the beginning, too many things happening at the mo. It’s either feast or famine, you know.

Oh, and STEPHEN FUCKING STAUNTON is the new Ireland manager. Christ on a moped, why don’t they just put a used tea-bag in goals and use a herd of goats outfield.

And isn’t it amazing how almost 4 years on, Saipan STILL draws heated debate in this country? Somehow, at 3 in the morning i found myself dragged into a drunken slur-fest about Roy Keane, yet again.

Fat Bottomed Girls…

…..make the rockin’ world go round.

So sang Mr. Freddie Mercury. But I wonder, has a serious scientific study been conducted into wether there is a direct correlation between women with disproportionately large rear-ends and the Earth’s rotation on it’s axis?

C’mon NASA, get on the ball….

If I were Derron Brown…

If I were Derron Brown, i’d be at the bar getting free drinks, stealing your girlfriend whilst the DJ plays all my favourite songs.

But i’m not, so i’m here in the library trying to write an essay on why Hollywood came to dominate the international film industry. Not nearly as exciting as it doesn’t sound too.

2006 : How do you do?

Post Christmas come down hasn’t been too bad, I think what i did was push my body to such a state that even the thought of another night out on the booze makes my spine chill and my bowels shift uncomfortably. The festive period was a relentless series of sessions, all with hilarious consequences. New Years saw me rock the mic in my local with a stirring rendition of “Ice Ice Baby” with some added ad-lib bonus shout-outs to all and sundry at the finale. The December 2005 Vortex (one of the more prolonged drunken vortex’s in some time) finally spat me out the next night and the big ugly alcohol driven machine wound to a slow purr (let’s be honest, it never really stops). As always there are adventures on the horizon, with a mooted trip into the West, to look forward too. Plus I have plenty of college work to-do, for more or less the next 5 months. Unfortunately, I have felt the beginning of the dreaded “fear” with regards my end of year project. The dark, anxious clouds of self-doubt and doom are forming in the deepest pits of my stomach. Dark days ahead, dear friends.

Things to do in ‘06:
+ Live the dream
+ Reach for the sky
+ Seize the day
+ Fight the power
+ Push the Envelope
+ Rock the boat
+ Don’t tip the boat over