Those perishin' spheres! Dozens of 'em!'s Blurty Entries [entries|friends|calendar]
Those perishin' spheres! Dozens of 'em!

web hit counter

[ website | Sister Diary: Anive ]
[ userinfo | blurty userinfo ]
[ calendar | blurty calendar ]

[13 Nov 2008|12:39am]
You know, folks. I'm really starting to enjoy things. I hate to feel that fleeting euphoria associated with my usual mood-swings, followed as they are by dips of doubt and stunted bored depression, but I am beginning to feel quite good about the way I am.

I'm actually becoming a man. At last.

And it feels fuckin' awesome.
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[13 Nov 2008|12:21am]
the love is simplicity,
she had your face,
your name, and your smile,
she didn't notice a thing about me,
glad was I,
so I could just take my head and shake hair to the sky,

in the cathedral square,
no lips kiss me there,
I know no rhyme or reason,
why this love is escaping,
but i'm glad,
because there's no space for me there,

staring from our window,
I find myself aghast,
as you recognize yourself in the window,
and I see no reflection,

stunned by your image,
and yet surprised as I let you go,
and said goodbye,
as you rounded the corner in step-toes
and stilletoed shoes.
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[11 Nov 2008|12:29am]
I love it when the rains burst open. Most baulk at such works of nature, I feel horny. I love it. I don my dark daubings, I work canvas into night, into love. My lover is indistinct, she carves her place in history with clouds of blue and black, and I am become. I fall in love every single time my feet touch her, and my muscles and legs are thrilled by her moisture. I am bonded to her every move, tape covers my mouth, I desire each and every stimulation her fingers bring.

There is literally nothing like being awoken by nature. As a mammal, as a beast, as a bag of bones and blood, of this moment, of this exact time. On penalty of death, and in fact promised of it, the only real reward as an atheist, is to feel the thrill of being here, in the moment. Pulsing with the reddened scent, the feeling of being made meat, biological and sexual, feeling your claws biting into soft earth, in amongst a thousand lost lives.

I am in a state tonight where I am rabid, blood sucking. I desire more than anything to reduce mortality to an afterthought. To render myself valid with the present tense. I want to tear into flesh, in a primal way. I want more than anything to crouch intensely against soft skin and feel my underbelly growing wet, dripping and moist. I am the innocent turned into a malicious toothy grin. I feel sex pouring from every pore, and I am ready.

Cheers! I enjoyed that post.
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[10 Nov 2008|12:57am]

May your path be given light,
even in the darkest night,

that I could hold your hand,
as if life could be so grand,

is the bit part player,
in this endless play,

at my heart is your heart,
in my soul beats your life,

i'd rather you be happy,
and dream you were my wife,

but that you would beat back the cold,
and beat away at my heart,

is the best sigh of all,
and glad I am that could play a part
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[08 Nov 2008|10:48am]
know there is birdsong breaking out amongst the yearning groan of Mother Earth. Green shoots are growing, even if you cannot see them. Little bursts, one by one, firstly and shyly breaking through but don't grow too fast, my darlng, for these things can come too quickly.

There is a disquiet in heart and an erosion threatens, but water the plants, give in not to the decaying and brittle skies,

for all history, for all time, I love you.
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[08 Nov 2008|10:44am]
I don't write so much poetry these days. It appears i've begun to appreciate the simple art of writing for writing's sake. And making something out of that. This is I broke away from three years ago, which is rare in that it's a poem i'm not embarrassed to read all this time on.

I broke away,
for just a while,
took a little detour,
down an untidy street,
that I cleaned up,
to prepare me,
for something special,

You all were sitting,
with a smoke and a guiness,
whilst i broke away,
i broke away,
was it a long time?

I guess so,
I had to slow,
to look in corner shops
at books,
and little nik naks
and to smell that petrol,
hanging around back like a chauffuer,

i broke away,
and it was a good trip,
down a little velvet route,
full of red skin,
a fire eater called,
set me alight,

i broke away,
but I came back,
to tell you,
what i'd done.


Simple clean lines, slimlined, almost sexual in it's directness. The form is good, I am pleased to read this all those long days after.

Well, i'm going to work soon. I'll be back very late tonight. Life is exciting, but it is so freaking tiring. I sometimes feel my heart beating so fast against my chest it threatens to burst out. I'm off. Kisses.
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[08 Nov 2008|08:52am]
I am rather unshaven. I say unshaven. I look like a the inside of a tramp's arsehole. Like Bagpuss has let himself go. Like a three week old plum left out in the rain.

I haven't had time. I've never been this busy. I hope I can move soon, because I just cannot abide transport for much longer. I don't like having to use it or pay for it. It's a no brainer. Would you rather walk ten minutes to work or take a fucking hour, having to get up earlier and piss about with poxy old rattle-buckets? Exactly.

Cannot wait to sort it. I have half moved out with this job, now I want to complete the job.

Won't be around much this week. I'm even busier. I'm going to try and get a precious lie down before I have to go.
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[06 Nov 2008|12:42am]
Oh, and as the late and wonderful comedian Bill Hicks once said:

"The Republican beast is fuckin' dead! YEAH!"

May I offer my congrautlations to Barack Obama, and each and every one of you (Indeed all that choose to exercise this right to vote) for voting. I can't, obviously. However, on behalf of people like me that truly think that the democratic voting system can work, thankyou. I offer my body and spunk to each and every one of you. Not really. Just oral sex.

Seriously, well done. You know, there are so many people in the world that don't have this right, and it sickens me that there are those in the Western world that dismiss it on the lazy thinking that it "Won't change a thing", and that politicians are all cunts who don't give a shit.

Well, maybe Barack does. Let's face it, even during these giddy times (Seeing the pictures of Obama addressing 200,000 in Chicago gave me chills, in a good way) we forget that Mr Obama is slightly lacking in experience and his concepts for the country are vague, but he's got one thing in his favour. Several things actually. One, he's a smart man with a smart man behind him (In stark contrast to McCain and Palin). Two, he's a good, and sensitive soul, perfectly marked by his humility and attitude. Thirdly, though his being a black president should not matter, in some ways it is fucking awesome, because it does mean that anything is possible in America. Which should give hope to all of us, I think.

Yeah, thanks. Well done, President Obama. And well done, you dirty Yank slags. I love you. Even if you didn't vote for him, if you voted, you made yer voice count.
1 Fake planet lover| Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[05 Nov 2008|09:17am]
Okay, looks like i'm off the radar until further notice. I'm back to the BM. I'd like to wish Bonanza a great term in the presidensssssy of the yooonaaatteddd states of ormerica, dudes.

Bye!

BONANZA FOR PREZ LOLZORZ!

Seriously, well done. See you later!

SLEDGEHAMMER!
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[05 Nov 2008|09:12am]
Okay, looks like i'm off the radar until further notice. I'm back to the BM. I'd like to wish Bonanza a great term in the presidensssssy of the yooonaaatteddd states of ormerica, dudes.

Bye!

BONANZA FOR PREZ LOLZORZ!

Seriously, well done. See you later!
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[04 Nov 2008|03:17pm]
I've got a secret diary. Na na na na na! It's for all my naughty things. I like talking naughty and being naughty, but naughty is not for all eyes. So it all goes in my secret diary. BAM BAM! SLEDGEHAMMER! It's a diary for talking about sex, basically. Not that I ever have any.

It's quite nice really. I get to indulge my primal self freely. I kinda like it.

Okay, it's that rather depressing last few hours before I am pretty much encumbered for three days. Work is all I have to look forward to. Thirty eight hours in fact. Probably. I am certainly earning money this week. I will be very incommunicando.

Until then, here is possibly the greatest picture I will ever post.

Photobucket

Fuck macros, you don't need 'em. Just me and a cat, called Checkers. He voted for Obama too. WAM BOW! SLEDGEHAMMER! WHY DON'T YOU CALL MY NAME!

More under the cut.
Read more... )

I feel silly today.
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[04 Nov 2008|10:47am]
Okay, I think this is my plan for the New Year. Save money for flat. Hopefully, that will be sorted out soon. Once that's sorted, i'm going to get the hours down, get the holiday time, and money, then i'm going to Cali. And possibly Amsterdam. I really hope so, anyway. I've never been there.

But yes. Cali. I will meet lots of women, and be sufficiently English to appear slightly exotic. This is bollocks, of course. Nobody bats an eyelid when you're English in America. This is pleasing. I feel like one of the gang when i'm there. And I love it. I love the place.

Gotta find out what it's going to cost. I love making plans!


I'm watching The Office. It's the American version. As much as I don't think it's a patch on the Ricky Gervais original (Nothing could be) it's still bloody good. Also, there's something hilarious about hearing characters talking to "Phyllis".


Where's that bloke who was in 40 year old virgin though? He's not in this one!
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[04 Nov 2008|09:36am]
Welcome to the day of president voting and stuff. Of course, I am English. This means I can't vote. I'd vote for that bloke in the massive top hat with the stars and stripes on though. Or Fred Astaire. I think he would be good. Seriously, guys.

I'm not especially good at politics. Or rather, I pay little attention to what is going on, who is arguing about what, and make my own mind up. I'm stubborn like that. However, let's muck about a bit. Here's what i'd be like if i'd lied on my C.V and was now on telly talking about the election battle! Can you imagine it? Me, sitting amongst all these American top tv news blokes, them all in suits and ties, me in a red Mighty Boosh t shirt, with a pint of Guiness.

"Neil Stilwell, you've been watching the candidates closely, I understand?"

"Yeah. Well, no. Frankly, it was late and I was well tired and that. I did see the debate...thing, you know where they sit there and had that fight. What concerned me slightly, was that while old Obama was talking about stuff, the other bloke..."

"McCain?"

"Yeah, the potato"

"Potato?"

"Well, look at his face. It's a mouldy potato. I'm not saying he's a vegetable, but a few more years and he will be...he's about three hundered now, ain't he? All i'm saying is that if America votes for McCain, okay, they're going to get a man who knows his chips, but he's fucking shit at being president."

"Surely you're not being partisan here Mr Stilwell, saying that you'd rather vote for Obama?"

"Yeah, he's got a cracking name. It sounds a bit bonkers and that. Plus, you can imagine him playing football with Dave and me and Dan and that. Probably. We'd have to show him how to kick a ball."

"Going back to this earlier statement, do you really think that McCain is unsuitable on account of his as you say "Looking like a mouldy potato"? You do realise the things you're saying here, don't you?"

"No mate, i've still got jet lag. Can I have another pint of Guiness? You geezers need to stop putting sulphates in this shit."

"So, the question I posed earlier..."

"Yeah, *clearing throat*. Er...McCain. Brilliant, well done. Chips, great. I loved the crinkle cut edition. I had NO idea he made chips. Must be why he's got that weird old head. He's been chopping chips off it for years. I've got an idea, right. Get the spud out, get the cyborg out....."

"Cyborg?"

"Yeah, Sarah Palin. Fixed expression, probably has got a steel plate where her vagina should be. Still would, though. Ever have that thing when you don't like a woman at all, but you sort of would have sex with them? It's an odd attraction, ain't it. I'd cock her rivets off, the shiny bitch."

"I think we're getting away from the point here...here's the fifteenth commercial break this minute"

*Sledgehammer plays, and a massive chip appears on the screen with a face, shouting:*

MCCAIN OVEN CHIPS, BACK for another successful term. WE mean FRIES, OBVIOUSLY. Twenty freakin' dollars for ten bags. It's a bargain. I mean real deal guy. BUY SOME FRICKING FRIES FROM MC CAIN!

Photobucket

*Back to the studio. I'm sitting down sniggering into my chest and the other blokes are starting to twig i'm not a real political geezer*

"Mr Stilwell, it says here you've studied politics for a thousand years."

"Yep, turn of the century, in 1982. I was brought and bred while King Thatcher ruled the skies. When Mordor was finally destroyed. I am Gandalf's best mate. "

"What the hell is that?"

"Nothing. Hey, make me president. Forget potato head and cyborg, even Obama. He can be my second man, which would make Biden third. Together we'd be righteous. I'll unite the country with a regime of constant arms linking and breakdancing. We could all eat Creme eggs and forget to go to work. Just forget. Easy!"

"Thanks, Mr Stillwell"

The viewers at home are stunned.

"Who the fuck is this limey asshole, man? I pay fricking twenty dollars a minute for this shit" while my face chuckles away at the whole charade.

Still, i'd go for Obama if i was there. Onwards and upwards, America.
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[03 Nov 2008|03:45pm]
I've become interested in that site I was talking about. You lot should know it, I posted the link. If you were paying some freaking attention.

Now, I can't do the thirty day novel writing thing. I like the idea of writing a novel with no care, just free writing. That's 30,000 words. I might do it, but assuming the idea rather than the task.. For a long time, i've been wanting to write a novel. Perhaps the result, however shoddy and slipshod will give me something greater, eventually. It would certainly distract me from the slight down-in-the-dumps feeling i'm feeling today.

So perhaps I shall do that. I can't promise the result will be pretty, or spectacular, but with no verification, it will certainly be interesting.

I'll start soon. Prepare yeselves for some seriously tossing well bad stream of consciousness from my brain to your tits.
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[23 Oct 2008|11:03am]
So, sex lessons are being mooted. For sixteen year olds? They know how to do it already, surely. They learnt it off Hollyoaks. No muff or cock, just a lot of stupid idiots jiggling.

Anyway, I remember sex education like it was about fifteen years ago. We had to use a banana to show how to put a condom on. I don't have a penis that looks like a banana, and I certainly don't want it peeled, thanks.

Not sure that this post has any point at all. See you later, yeah?
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[23 Oct 2008|10:57am]
Right, the other night I tried to write about another freaking character. I wrote several things, and deleted every single one. Every single one. None were good enough. I had some good ideas, some neat beautiful lines and all, but they all sucked. I couldn't get into it properly.

What I wanted to write was something like this, what I gone done gone and done did three years ago, see? This is my lady character:

http://zoomeister.livejournal.com/814348.html

I like her. I'm going to write some more about her and add to it. Suppose that's what keeping a diary is for, really. I am building pieces of a substantial whole. A bit like that time I made the world's biggest chocolate egg. It melted, I lost the rosette to Jimmy Pinkerballs, but that's not the cunting point!. Point is, i've got writing that is seperate, but is all starting to come together. Who'd ha' thunk it?
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[22 Oct 2008|11:11am]
You didn't, actually. Here's Checkers and I.

Photobucket

This is Checkers. He looks like a general. See?

Photobucket

More. Read more... )

I did a video too, but my phone will not stay connected. Maybe later, hmm?
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

[18 Oct 2008|09:46am]
Hello.

Hello. I've washed my hair. It's a cold day, so the air is chilling it to my head. Or will, when I leave for Canterbury. I've decided to get an earlier train, as South Eastern is a whore who is going to have to regain my trust.

If you're reading in Livejournal, you will find histories in number in the archives. Take a walk down my dusty halls of fun. You know, the mind, memory and history of someone is like a library, which nobody really uses aside from us diary writers. I can go back now, into any year post 2003, and find any book I want about my life then. Just one entry can contain a wealth of subconcious memories, all waiting to be blown off the pages and read just like they happened. Or something.

If you're reading on Blurty, it's likely you're not. Blurty appears to be finally dying. It's life support is shaking, the old man has fallen asleep and nobody is left to switch it back on. Perhaps it's already gone. Which means, there are some entries I will lose. They're not all on here, you know.

If you're reading on Facebook, you're probably well wicked and modern and that, and have a phone no bigger than a pebble, and you're typing sarcastic messages in Wingdings to someone. Hello to you too. I want to embrace all the chums i've met recently. With my massive foam shitting arms.
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

Are we human, or are we dancers? [12 Oct 2008|10:52am]
Photobucket
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

Quite a fun one this, what? [12 Oct 2008|10:02am]
1.
Jeff Buckley, whose voice still posthumously wanders out from under the soil and envelops dark nights for me.


2.
Do you enjoy looking at PostSecret. com?

Yes. In fact, i've often thought of posting something on there, but I haven't. I don't know how to make it look all arty like what they do and that.


3.
Did you ever wear pantyhose?
Erm, I did once, but they were for comfort reasons. While I was with an ex, she left her knickers at my house before going home to the States, and wearing the things reminded me of her. Ok shut it, it was what I did, alright? Strange but true. They had a small V on them. I think they were Victoria Secret. I don't know where they are now. I think I swallowed them while sleeping once. I don't make a habit out of it, yeah? Besides, the balls fall out too easily.

Oh, a pantyhose. No, I haven't. Shit. Oh well, i've written it now. I never go back and edit, this amuses me.


4.
Have you ever given out plastic spoons for Valentine's Day?
No, but i've shoved an onion in your sister's face.

5.
What do you think of Sarah Palin?
A cyborg, a malfunctioning droid, full of garbled ideas and ill fitting bolts and nuts. She's a cunt, and I use that term sincerely. I can't stand her, and her very presence anywhere near a position of power has the sort of ramifications you wouldn't worry about even with Bush in charge. You can see Jupiter from my window, and it's looking fucking malicious. I think we should have a ceremony wherin she's frozen, like Han Solo in that Star Wars film. I don't care which one it was, by the way.


6.
Would your parents be okay with you dating someone of another race?
I don't think they'd mind at all.

7.
What's your favorite color Post-It note?
Shit brown.


8.
What is the grossest thing in your room right now (old milk, molded food, etc)?
You don't want to know that.


9.
Do you enjoy fall or spring more?
Fall. It's twinkling, orange scatter. The shorn edges of frosted roofing. Sunlight bleeding slowly and languorously through warm heated front rooms during evening set. I love it.


10.
Where do you see yourself in two years?
I've absolutely no idea.


11.
Do you believe that the world will end in 2012?
No. I think there will be more twats and less room for twats, but twats will remain and so will this big fucking rock. Unless that means the world already has ended.


12.
Why is NFL more popular in the north than it is the south?
I don't know.


13.
What was your favorite playground equipment as a child?
Killer bat.


14.
Is there a fan on in the room you are in?
No.


15.
Have you ever taken a survey outside?
No.


16.
What is the most random thing in your line of sight right now?
An endless, boundless, chasm at the centre of my empty sodding core.


17.
Do you like to feel smart?
Yes, and I am. Sort of.


18.
Do you know your high school's Alma Mater?
Fuck knows.


19.
What do you think of the high school dropouts that live on welfare?
I was one. I think at the root of the problem is the simple lack of training for life after school. And individual needs are not met. Why not fucking sort that out first?

20.
Does Christmas time excite you?
Less and less as my years wear on. If I have kids of my own one day, perhaps it'll bring back the excitement, albiet vicariously. But now, I fear the day for it's contemplations and lone, distant jingles echoing my heart's solitary pounding. Merry Christmas everybody! Sometimes I'd like to be in a relationship at Christmas. That would rock. There's something abou the day which would be nice with someone to share it with. I could buy her a bauble with her face on it. Or a vial of my own spunk to hang under a tree. She would leave, grabbing her coat and keys, I would smash the spunk against the fireplace, and clutch my hair, like Heathcliff, screaming. FESTIVE FUCKING LOON THAT I AM.




21.
Do you ever feel guilty for skipping church?
No. I'm not religious.


22.
What are your plans for today?
Work. And it's bound to be arduous.
Get yer lovely gas giants here.

navigation
[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]