Tuesday 30 June 2009

Fuck Off Heatwave

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Man, I am guessing by now everyone has noticed how retardedly hot its been of late. Like, what the fuck really, it's so fucking hot right now and its almost midnite. I've been trying to write this post all nite and I was so hot I just couldn't think straight enough to actually sit down and type. I haven't been away in years but I just remembered why. Why spend a bunch of cash to go to a hot country? To get hot and agitated? No thanks. I'm thinking of going to Ireland to get AWAY from the heat.

A shop I once worked at had this fucked up air-con that basically kept the shop horribly warm and germ ridden in the winter with its wafting and in the summer it always broke down when it got anywhere near like 25º, which was usually in the morning. Then it would get real busy and super hot in the afternoon and I remember I used to get this weird repetitive thought pattern where I'd keep daydreaming of being even hotter than I was (we demanded a thermometer to equate how hot it actually was - it was regularly 35º). It usually involved me wearing three shirts, two hoodies, a big jacket, hat, gloves, two pairs of socks like EVERYTHING. Anyway then I'd imagine being so hot I'd like spontaneously combust on the shopfloor all over a pair of Puma Mostro's and their future owners. But in reality I was ignoring annoying Italian women's request for a size, 'half past forty one', in said Puma monstrosity.

The one main thing that annoys me about the heat is I find it fucking hard to get high. I mean, I smoke weed and its consistently good weed but it's so hot it just doesn't last or something. Like I get stoned after a bong rip or two and then half an hour later its looking back at me all forlorn and wanting it again. More on that bong soon. So earlier I tired to combat the heat/weed dilemma by going for a zoot in the park as the sun was going down. I almost got cold and was pretty lean whilst I was there in the shade but that was about it. I guess it's because in the heat you want refreshment and weed is even less refreshing than a pint of tahini drunk from a sand goblet.

You know what is refreshing though? EVIAN. Yes, I am talking about that water again. Yesterday I finally found a stockist for glass bottles of my favourite tipple and you know what? It was rather anti-climactic for want of a worse phrase. It tasted different. Not as 'creamy' as regular plastic bottled Evian. Who would've thought. Wait a sec, maybe if somebody grew a strain of weed that was 'engineered' with Evian all my problems could be over? That's it, that's the one. G13 'Evian' please if you're reading cultivators...

Friday 26 June 2009

Electric Eyes Are Everyhwere...

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Yesterday really sucked, it was almost as if I was not reading the script or something, fucking the future if you will. First off I managed to somehow lose £20 (always a kick in the bollocks) by not taking my money OUT of the fucking ATM outside Tesco on Well Street. It was as if I blacked out for like 20 seconds and when I returned there was only the deserted advice slip, swinging lamely in the light breeze. I can remember putting in my PIN etc. and then I was next to my bike putting my card back in wallet sans cash. Pissed off and agitated, I went home and cooked the shit up I'd just bought and while I was on the fone to the bank to see if I wasn't a complete dickhead, I burned the whole pot of rice that was cooking to accompany my chicken in black bean sauce. I walked into the kitchen thinking my whole fucking culinary workshop had engulfed itself in flames, luckily it hadn't. It was one of those evenings where everything was gonna go wrong, so I thought it best to just stay in and stay out of trouble. I had downloaded some movies so I went upstairs and attempted to watch them (Tron and Gus Van Sant's To Die For, I am really running out of movies, yes), but both required passwords. And my internet was down so not only could I not get the fucking passwords for these two cinematic orgasms but I couldn't even go online and watch some fucking South Park.

Fuck it, time to get high. Had a bong of some 'sharks breath' (seriously guys, these names are retarded), felt real good man. Then, the fucking glazed cherry on my shit-covered-in-cum sundae of an evening; I get a message saying Michael Jackson just died. What. The. Fuck. And I didn't even have the internet to find out if it was actually for real. Well, it was, well done BlackBerry. It was as if all the evenings retardedness had culminated in the death of the King of Pop. Fuck. This is the kind of shit that started Michael Douglas off in Falling Down.

It was an odd mix of feelings really, I mean I fucking LOVED the first three MJ albums as a young Rockwellian but I dunno, what was the last thing he did really? I mean, aside from turning up dressed like Captain Crunch to court on charges of pederasty. Not much really. Did you buy a ticket to his London o2 shows? Of course you didn't. Did you even think 'oh fuck, all the tickets are sold out, man, I gotta get some on eBay'? Nope. The reason? Well, for me anyway it was because Michael Jackson was already dead in a way. I mean guy used to be BLACK. Michael Jackson was black and then he was white. I'm sorry, but all the plastic surgery shit was pretty fucking weird, yes, but changing your ethnic appearance?!? That is beyond fucked up. I think I was pretending it wasn't him all along so his passing is a little easier indeed. Still, had the shows been amazing then I guess it would've sucked to not have a ticket but I guess now we'll never know.

Rest in peace Mike, you deserve it. By the way, in case it passed you by, Farrah Fawcett died yesterday too...

Saturday 13 June 2009

Back to the Fucking Future

Okay. So it seems that there are still some people in this world that haven't seen the Back to the Future trilogy. I have no idea what goes on in people's minds that haven't seen the wonders of the Flux Capacitor in all its glory. The first installment is maybe the greatest movie ever, part two is equally as good and features THE FUTURE, whilst three well, I remember seeing it in the cinema as a lad and it had always been a slight disappointment. But still, if you've been following my blog you'll know I LOVE Back to the Future, and if Zak Efron thinks he is getting a hold of the franchise to ruin it like Spielberg allowed with that stupid Indy flick and the sub-par Star Wars flicks then unfortunately, I will declare war. You have been warned Dry School Musical fag...

Back to the Future (1985) Robert Zemeckis (USA)
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Back to the Future Pt.II (1989) Robert Zemeckis (USA)
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Back to the Future Pt.III (1990) Robert Zemeckis (USA)
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All files are just under 400MB

Tuesday 9 June 2009

Theodor Kittelsen

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When night falls
She cloaks the world
In impenetrable darkness
A chill rises
From the soil
And contaminates the air
Suddenly...
Life has new meaning