MASSIVE FAIL
Duurrr! I am truly crap at keeping this journal up to date, but it's not for want of trying. The real reason my posts are so few and far between is because I am a massive perfectionist and for every update I post, there are at least fifty unseen updates I attempt to write and then consign to hell when I lose the ability to think halfway through and have to physically break everything around me within a one metre radius. This is totally the reason and it's not because everything I write is actually horrible shit and makes me want to kill myself by swallowing live wasps.
So here briefly and for one time only, are a selection of aborted updates that slipped under the radar. I still like to think of them as my children, as in the fact that I think of them all as catastrophically terrible mistakes that have ruined my entire life...
Just by way of an explanation, I write most of this crap at work to kill time. If it doesn't look like I'm going to finish the update, I quickly cut, paste and email it to myself to preserve it for all eternity, then promptly forget all about it. Thus my email account is filled with half-started half-assed updates, snippets of shitty stories and other miserable assorted miscellany that would have never seen the light of day until the light of today. Now I can proudly combine all of the little pieces of crap into one big giant piece of crap, so enriching all of our lives and, I like to think, bringing us that ever so tiny little bit closer to enlightenment and ever lasting peace on earth and goodwill to all men. Hallelujah!
First off, lets start with a couple of short stories that went absolutely nowhere...
The year was 1949. I remember the day only as one half remembers the fleeting remnants of a daydream or events shortly before a heavy blow to the back of the skull. I met her in Prague, just as the first warm rains of early Autumn foretold both the death of summer and Israel's acceptance into the United Nations as its 59th member. We were both young and foolish, drunk on love and mint juleps, and were, as lovers often are, careless with both time and caution. We were like two ships in the night, in the battle of Midway. I recall clearly as she steamed proudly out from behind a small series of islets and lay into me with a devastating broadside from her 16 inchers, causing extensive hull damage and starting several small fires. Attempts to return fire were hampered by mechanical failure, but by this time the rest of the fleet were alerted to our position. Sadly they could not reach me in time and further punishment inflicted destroyed my forward control post, killing most of the senior officers. A final salvo finally managed to penetrate one of my magazines and the subsequent catastrophic explosion lit up the sea for miles around. As she disappeared in the direction of the setting sun, I slowly slid beneath the cold dark waves leaving the sharks to their gruesome work.
Yup.. pretty bad, but nowhere near the bottom of the barrel yet ..
Lumis the lunar dog lived on his own on the moon. He had no friends but was happy for he spent his days merrily jumping, jumping, jumping. Huge gravity defying leaps across lunar plains and oceans of dust, launching himself from huge outcrops of rock he would merrily soar for hours on a single jump and upon landing would marvel at his pawprints, indelible for hundreds of years to come. One day Lumis ascended a giant moon mountain and flung himself from the peak in an epic bounce the likes of which he had not yet achieved. He landed several months later after being caught in a low orbit of the moon's gravitational field by accident and having become quite frozen solid, smashed into a million fragments of ice which would have cooled at least a hundred cocktails on a long hot summers afternoon.
These next three shorts written about this time last year, arose from an inspired idea to get bit part characters from popular movies to say a small piece each, just to give us a little bit of perspective on hmmm something. Well, I forget what the general idea was, but the whole update was supposed to contain about eight or nine of these "snapshots" of the stupid lives of fictitious characters. Needless to say I wrote three and gave up.
Yeh, Yeh Beechawawa Yo! I remember when life was as simple as the twisty course of a fallen leaf floating down a babbling brook. Each day we'd thank the great tree spirits for our worry-free existence, hunt some muppet-like bird things with crudely made spears and daub feces all over each other for fun. Then the white men came from space with their tanks and their bombs, and their bombs and their guns, in your head in your head, they are cryiiiing... oh sorry, The Cranberries charted quite highly on Endor. Anyway our once tranquil forest became a teddy bears picnic of gore soaked carnage and in desperation Chief Chirpa held an emergency meeting evoking the ancient spiritual rites of "Ayon, puno daw Patay!" which roughly translated means "we stand firm and resolute in the face of unyielding elements until death carries us on silent wings to the great hunting grounds in the sky". Unfortunately the practical application of "Ayon, puno daw Patay!" is to run round in circles screaming and daubing feces over each other, which isn't very helpful. However, salvation was only round the corner in the form of more outsiders. Some kind of alliance from the stars, led by the great shiny golden homosexual one! They helped us in our darkest hour and we returned the favour, distracting and driving back the invaders, until even the mighty "Death Moon" that had hung in the sky, low and ominous since the start of it all, vanished in a tremendous flash that signaled the end of oppression, destruction and fear forever... Well until one week later when our friends in the star alliance suddenly leveled all of the forests and built a massive planet-wide space port. Ah well, as our most revered ancestors used to say in the darkest of dark times Begoopa yuznub pee-peewaaah! which roughly translated means "Stop fucking daubing feces over everything you useless cack-obsessed cretins!!.
Dune, Doooooooone! .. Desert Planet. Home of the spice melange. No precipitation. Not one drop of rain ever falls on the planet and that means the forecast today is hot, hot HOT!! with highs of around 109 degrees in some of the downtown sietchs and right now very humid in all other parts and I hear that the wormsign count is at an all time high so make sure you pack your Ray Bans and walk without rhythm now here's another blast from the past coming out to Orato son of Oooani, or he who moves like ripples in sand, all alone in Windtrap number 5063 out there with the Ninth Battalion Sixty-fifth Infantry of the Striking Desert Mongoose, and dedicated by the fire team at Seitch Tabr to their groupie CO Korba the Prophet, here we go with Walking On Sunshine by Katrina & The Waaaaaaves!!! Chuuuk-sa...
Aaaaaand we're back, once again here with you all through the burning heat of the day on Arrakis four-oooh-eight FM Baa-Baa-de-bop! Your waaater shall mingle with our waaaater and some more stories coming in about our very own living prophecy, the Kwisatz with the most Haderach!!, putting the Hades into Atreides! iiiit's OOOOOOH-Usul himself Paul Muad'dib, cue jingle! Shai-Hulud... Shai-Hulud! whoops, no try again Muad'dib!... Muad'dib!... Muad'dib!... Muad'dib! yaaah and the big man himself has been really stitching it to the Baron and his gingernuts lately by almost single-handedly bringing spice production on Arrakis to a standstill and quashing the recent Harkonnen propaganda that us desert dwellers are all inbred worm-loving, spaced out junkies who wear survival suits for the sole purpose of recycling and eating our own shit. Old Blue-eyes himself was recently quoted as saying "Long live the fighters!" and errr calling out Emperor Shaddam IV himself, yah maybe a little too much Water of Life there methinks! MMMMMr Muad'dib even came under fire recently with critics suggesting that his entire military campaign is nothing more then one massive drug-induced genocidal jihad by a single-minded zoned-out lunatic with a messianic complex, in response to these allegations Usul snapped back with "One cannot go against the word of God!" hahaha! you go girl! AAAnyway back to todays line up and this one's going out to Gurney "the attorney" Halleck and his lean mean Fedaykin maaaachines, yeees it's The Weather Girls with It's Raaaaining Men here on Arraaakis four-oh-eiiight-FM!!! don't touch that dial!
Grief? Don't talk to me about grief, for you know nothing on the subject! Grief is the end result of the absence of hope. When the light has left life, or has been cruelly and unjustly extinguished leaving nothing but the darkness and weakness and grief forevermore! HA! I need not your pity, yet maybe some form of remedy to quell the foul loathsome sickness that wells in my bosom when I think of the hand life has dealt me or when I have to gaze upon Faramir's squinty pox-ridden face for more then two seconds! What's that Faramir? you half-baked limp-wristed halfwit! You say Osgiliath's fallen to the forces of darkness? Oh well then, lets just sit around all day with our hands down our trousers discussing the problem. Its not like Boromir, being everything you are not and a thousand times more, wouldn't have already ceased this unrest through strength and decisive action instead of procrastinating like some feeble elf pansy while the very walls of Gondor shake with the approach of the all consuming armies of darkness. What's that? speak up oh son of the very worst of my dead failing seed, honestly tis but a cruel joke of the fates that I could spawn such greatness followed by such a putrid parody. Hurry now! for I feel the surge of bile rising in my gorge having to focus my eyes for so long on such worthlessness standing as a living testament to my failings and mocking me like a constant lingering reminder of total cosmic injustice. Oh I don't know, why don't you ride headlong into the approaching army and be done with it! Look, actually just get out! No I'm serious FUCK OFF! ....
... Has he gone? .. Good. Ok, where's that faggy hobbit I acquired? My lunch has arrived and I need someone to sing a nice upbeat lament while I mash all these cherry tomatoes grossly into my face.
Hahahhahahaaa!! see it's funny because he hates his own son then catches fire, oh they don't write em like that anymore. Anyhoo, here's an example of another update killed off in its prime by me being a fat handed twat where technology is concerned.
Great Zeus in Hades! I'm going to try and write something here, but quite frankly I'm doubting it will see completion because I am having some shitty luck with everything of a technical nature recently. I'm unsure of where I picked up the Midas touch of electrical fuckery, but it has made me realise just how much we depend on computers and radars and shit to do practically everything these days. From turning on the bathroom light to wasting astronomical sums of money firing space probes into Uranus, humans both rely and dominate the field of technology because it sets us aside from our spastic animal cousins and allows us to subjugate and rule over them with an iron fist. The fist ... of a robot!
I have not been ruling over much at the moment. Maybe my innate ability to sense electrical fields is actively manipulating the unseen environment around me or maybe I shouldn't have said all those rude things about God, either way I appear to be techno-cursed at the moment so please stay well away from me if you wear a pacemaker, you happen to be an android, or your brain is currently hardwired into a life support machine by thousands of IV drips sutured directly through your skull and the slightest electrical surge would cause the drips to reverse flow and spray your precious cranial fluid all over the carpet.
Worse case scenarios aside, here's a list of malicious machines that hate me and everything I stand for. Incidentally it's another list, because lists are an easy format to write in and I don't have to apply any mental effort, also the office television is currently blasting some late night generic quiz show into my ears at about five hundred decibels, distracting me so much that I am too scared to ask my co worker to turn it off and instead have to make do with fantasising about popping the presenters eyes one by one with a soldering iron as I softly stroke her hair and sob to myself.
UPDATE NOT COMPLETED DUE TO COMPUTER ABRUPTLY BREAKING DOWN AND NO LIST EVER BEING WRITTEN.
Amazing. I mean, wow just wow. Who'd have thought the English language could flow so badly from my gnarled fingers like cerebral fluid from a cracked skull. Yuk. Anyway moving on, here are some bits and pieces of miscellany that were just hanging around in my inbox, half formed ideas that writhed around in spasms and then expired shortly after birth. It was for the best really.
In the final days the earth shook with endless thunder as millions of tiny suns blossomed across its surface scouring history and existence like a large scouring pad. And man looked down from his spaceship and decided it was for the best as earth was pretty broken and God looked down and decompressed mans spaceship.
Once again I've failed to keep to a regular posting agenda because I'm hugely lazy and would rather spend time playing with my dolls and brushing their hair into pigtails NO NO NO GAY
Also, should I be getting these agonising laceration-like sensations ripping across my frontal lobes like my brain has been tightly wrapped in razorwire and dropped into a deep fat fryer? and why the hell are my bones fusing together into a mass of horny ridges and hundreds of jagged irregular cartilage head spikes? Is this puberty?
"Hang on everyone, I've got a message on my computer and it's from the INTERNET" he followed this up by some elaborate typing and adjusting of dials on his computer machine. "It's a distress call from the middle of the forest and it says STOP. HELP STOP. URGENT! HAVE CRASHED STOP. INTO A TREE STOP. STOP STOP. IRRETRIEVABLE HTML MARK UP ERROR STOP. then there's some coordinates and a warning that my computer may contain pornography and an IP address"
Ooosh! Tonight it's raining, my callers are all sorts of stupid and it's so cold both my balls froze off on the way to work and I am now a eunuch. But enough of this meandering excitement, for tonights update is all about brevity. UPDATE ENDS ABRUPTLY
So I stepped out of the second floor warehouse doorway, crept slowly down the iron staircase outside and edged round the side of the building. Gripping my Kalashnikov like I meant it, I leant into the wall until the first counter-terrorists wove into view. Squinting in the sunlight and taking a deep breath, I sighted up on the first guys head and pulled the trigger ... and that was the end of my hard drive.
WAAA! sorry, I wasn't expecting you to finish reading those that quickly, hmmph. Anyhoooch finally for now, sometimes I write myself little emails to remind myself to do things. You know, important stuff like family members birthdays, shopping lists, reminders to change my clothes, have an occasional shower or put out that barrel fire I saw burning downstairs the other week. So while writing this update and looking for the best of the worst shit from my inbox to fill space, I came across one of these emails and it seems at the time I was obviously tired of life. Still it made me laugh.
11:05am 5th April 2006
Hey man, as it's just you and me now, errr like yeah. I think we should get organised and on those few work nights where we're not watching boromir being pincusioned, we should definately get back to doing a bit of writing again. I figure that even if I write utter utter complete and totally crappy bollocks without trying at all in anywa... CRY ME A MOTHER FUCKING RIVER YOU LITTLE SHITHEAD CUNT
Hahahhaha nothing like ending on a hugely offensive swearbomb. Well that's my inbox cleaned out. Next time I'll be posting some of my diaries from when I was eight, which interesting enough all centre around graphic descriptions of throwing Star Wars figures in mud. Ahhh, them's were the days.
So here briefly and for one time only, are a selection of aborted updates that slipped under the radar. I still like to think of them as my children, as in the fact that I think of them all as catastrophically terrible mistakes that have ruined my entire life...
Just by way of an explanation, I write most of this crap at work to kill time. If it doesn't look like I'm going to finish the update, I quickly cut, paste and email it to myself to preserve it for all eternity, then promptly forget all about it. Thus my email account is filled with half-started half-assed updates, snippets of shitty stories and other miserable assorted miscellany that would have never seen the light of day until the light of today. Now I can proudly combine all of the little pieces of crap into one big giant piece of crap, so enriching all of our lives and, I like to think, bringing us that ever so tiny little bit closer to enlightenment and ever lasting peace on earth and goodwill to all men. Hallelujah!
First off, lets start with a couple of short stories that went absolutely nowhere...
The year was 1949. I remember the day only as one half remembers the fleeting remnants of a daydream or events shortly before a heavy blow to the back of the skull. I met her in Prague, just as the first warm rains of early Autumn foretold both the death of summer and Israel's acceptance into the United Nations as its 59th member. We were both young and foolish, drunk on love and mint juleps, and were, as lovers often are, careless with both time and caution. We were like two ships in the night, in the battle of Midway. I recall clearly as she steamed proudly out from behind a small series of islets and lay into me with a devastating broadside from her 16 inchers, causing extensive hull damage and starting several small fires. Attempts to return fire were hampered by mechanical failure, but by this time the rest of the fleet were alerted to our position. Sadly they could not reach me in time and further punishment inflicted destroyed my forward control post, killing most of the senior officers. A final salvo finally managed to penetrate one of my magazines and the subsequent catastrophic explosion lit up the sea for miles around. As she disappeared in the direction of the setting sun, I slowly slid beneath the cold dark waves leaving the sharks to their gruesome work.
Yup.. pretty bad, but nowhere near the bottom of the barrel yet ..
Lumis the lunar dog lived on his own on the moon. He had no friends but was happy for he spent his days merrily jumping, jumping, jumping. Huge gravity defying leaps across lunar plains and oceans of dust, launching himself from huge outcrops of rock he would merrily soar for hours on a single jump and upon landing would marvel at his pawprints, indelible for hundreds of years to come. One day Lumis ascended a giant moon mountain and flung himself from the peak in an epic bounce the likes of which he had not yet achieved. He landed several months later after being caught in a low orbit of the moon's gravitational field by accident and having become quite frozen solid, smashed into a million fragments of ice which would have cooled at least a hundred cocktails on a long hot summers afternoon.
These next three shorts written about this time last year, arose from an inspired idea to get bit part characters from popular movies to say a small piece each, just to give us a little bit of perspective on hmmm something. Well, I forget what the general idea was, but the whole update was supposed to contain about eight or nine of these "snapshots" of the stupid lives of fictitious characters. Needless to say I wrote three and gave up.
Yeh, Yeh Beechawawa Yo! I remember when life was as simple as the twisty course of a fallen leaf floating down a babbling brook. Each day we'd thank the great tree spirits for our worry-free existence, hunt some muppet-like bird things with crudely made spears and daub feces all over each other for fun. Then the white men came from space with their tanks and their bombs, and their bombs and their guns, in your head in your head, they are cryiiiing... oh sorry, The Cranberries charted quite highly on Endor. Anyway our once tranquil forest became a teddy bears picnic of gore soaked carnage and in desperation Chief Chirpa held an emergency meeting evoking the ancient spiritual rites of "Ayon, puno daw Patay!" which roughly translated means "we stand firm and resolute in the face of unyielding elements until death carries us on silent wings to the great hunting grounds in the sky". Unfortunately the practical application of "Ayon, puno daw Patay!" is to run round in circles screaming and daubing feces over each other, which isn't very helpful. However, salvation was only round the corner in the form of more outsiders. Some kind of alliance from the stars, led by the great shiny golden homosexual one! They helped us in our darkest hour and we returned the favour, distracting and driving back the invaders, until even the mighty "Death Moon" that had hung in the sky, low and ominous since the start of it all, vanished in a tremendous flash that signaled the end of oppression, destruction and fear forever... Well until one week later when our friends in the star alliance suddenly leveled all of the forests and built a massive planet-wide space port. Ah well, as our most revered ancestors used to say in the darkest of dark times Begoopa yuznub pee-peewaaah! which roughly translated means "Stop fucking daubing feces over everything you useless cack-obsessed cretins!!.
Dune, Doooooooone! .. Desert Planet. Home of the spice melange. No precipitation. Not one drop of rain ever falls on the planet and that means the forecast today is hot, hot HOT!! with highs of around 109 degrees in some of the downtown sietchs and right now very humid in all other parts and I hear that the wormsign count is at an all time high so make sure you pack your Ray Bans and walk without rhythm now here's another blast from the past coming out to Orato son of Oooani, or he who moves like ripples in sand, all alone in Windtrap number 5063 out there with the Ninth Battalion Sixty-fifth Infantry of the Striking Desert Mongoose, and dedicated by the fire team at Seitch Tabr to their groupie CO Korba the Prophet, here we go with Walking On Sunshine by Katrina & The Waaaaaaves!!! Chuuuk-sa...
Aaaaaand we're back, once again here with you all through the burning heat of the day on Arrakis four-oooh-eight FM Baa-Baa-de-bop! Your waaater shall mingle with our waaaater and some more stories coming in about our very own living prophecy, the Kwisatz with the most Haderach!!, putting the Hades into Atreides! iiiit's OOOOOOH-Usul himself Paul Muad'dib, cue jingle! Shai-Hulud... Shai-Hulud! whoops, no try again Muad'dib!... Muad'dib!... Muad'dib!... Muad'dib! yaaah and the big man himself has been really stitching it to the Baron and his gingernuts lately by almost single-handedly bringing spice production on Arrakis to a standstill and quashing the recent Harkonnen propaganda that us desert dwellers are all inbred worm-loving, spaced out junkies who wear survival suits for the sole purpose of recycling and eating our own shit. Old Blue-eyes himself was recently quoted as saying "Long live the fighters!" and errr calling out Emperor Shaddam IV himself, yah maybe a little too much Water of Life there methinks! MMMMMr Muad'dib even came under fire recently with critics suggesting that his entire military campaign is nothing more then one massive drug-induced genocidal jihad by a single-minded zoned-out lunatic with a messianic complex, in response to these allegations Usul snapped back with "One cannot go against the word of God!" hahaha! you go girl! AAAnyway back to todays line up and this one's going out to Gurney "the attorney" Halleck and his lean mean Fedaykin maaaachines, yeees it's The Weather Girls with It's Raaaaining Men here on Arraaakis four-oh-eiiight-FM!!! don't touch that dial!
Grief? Don't talk to me about grief, for you know nothing on the subject! Grief is the end result of the absence of hope. When the light has left life, or has been cruelly and unjustly extinguished leaving nothing but the darkness and weakness and grief forevermore! HA! I need not your pity, yet maybe some form of remedy to quell the foul loathsome sickness that wells in my bosom when I think of the hand life has dealt me or when I have to gaze upon Faramir's squinty pox-ridden face for more then two seconds! What's that Faramir? you half-baked limp-wristed halfwit! You say Osgiliath's fallen to the forces of darkness? Oh well then, lets just sit around all day with our hands down our trousers discussing the problem. Its not like Boromir, being everything you are not and a thousand times more, wouldn't have already ceased this unrest through strength and decisive action instead of procrastinating like some feeble elf pansy while the very walls of Gondor shake with the approach of the all consuming armies of darkness. What's that? speak up oh son of the very worst of my dead failing seed, honestly tis but a cruel joke of the fates that I could spawn such greatness followed by such a putrid parody. Hurry now! for I feel the surge of bile rising in my gorge having to focus my eyes for so long on such worthlessness standing as a living testament to my failings and mocking me like a constant lingering reminder of total cosmic injustice. Oh I don't know, why don't you ride headlong into the approaching army and be done with it! Look, actually just get out! No I'm serious FUCK OFF! ....
... Has he gone? .. Good. Ok, where's that faggy hobbit I acquired? My lunch has arrived and I need someone to sing a nice upbeat lament while I mash all these cherry tomatoes grossly into my face.
Hahahhahahaaa!! see it's funny because he hates his own son then catches fire, oh they don't write em like that anymore. Anyhoo, here's an example of another update killed off in its prime by me being a fat handed twat where technology is concerned.
Great Zeus in Hades! I'm going to try and write something here, but quite frankly I'm doubting it will see completion because I am having some shitty luck with everything of a technical nature recently. I'm unsure of where I picked up the Midas touch of electrical fuckery, but it has made me realise just how much we depend on computers and radars and shit to do practically everything these days. From turning on the bathroom light to wasting astronomical sums of money firing space probes into Uranus, humans both rely and dominate the field of technology because it sets us aside from our spastic animal cousins and allows us to subjugate and rule over them with an iron fist. The fist ... of a robot!
I have not been ruling over much at the moment. Maybe my innate ability to sense electrical fields is actively manipulating the unseen environment around me or maybe I shouldn't have said all those rude things about God, either way I appear to be techno-cursed at the moment so please stay well away from me if you wear a pacemaker, you happen to be an android, or your brain is currently hardwired into a life support machine by thousands of IV drips sutured directly through your skull and the slightest electrical surge would cause the drips to reverse flow and spray your precious cranial fluid all over the carpet.
Worse case scenarios aside, here's a list of malicious machines that hate me and everything I stand for. Incidentally it's another list, because lists are an easy format to write in and I don't have to apply any mental effort, also the office television is currently blasting some late night generic quiz show into my ears at about five hundred decibels, distracting me so much that I am too scared to ask my co worker to turn it off and instead have to make do with fantasising about popping the presenters eyes one by one with a soldering iron as I softly stroke her hair and sob to myself.
UPDATE NOT COMPLETED DUE TO COMPUTER ABRUPTLY BREAKING DOWN AND NO LIST EVER BEING WRITTEN.
Amazing. I mean, wow just wow. Who'd have thought the English language could flow so badly from my gnarled fingers like cerebral fluid from a cracked skull. Yuk. Anyway moving on, here are some bits and pieces of miscellany that were just hanging around in my inbox, half formed ideas that writhed around in spasms and then expired shortly after birth. It was for the best really.
In the final days the earth shook with endless thunder as millions of tiny suns blossomed across its surface scouring history and existence like a large scouring pad. And man looked down from his spaceship and decided it was for the best as earth was pretty broken and God looked down and decompressed mans spaceship.
Once again I've failed to keep to a regular posting agenda because I'm hugely lazy and would rather spend time playing with my dolls and brushing their hair into pigtails NO NO NO GAY
Also, should I be getting these agonising laceration-like sensations ripping across my frontal lobes like my brain has been tightly wrapped in razorwire and dropped into a deep fat fryer? and why the hell are my bones fusing together into a mass of horny ridges and hundreds of jagged irregular cartilage head spikes? Is this puberty?
"Hang on everyone, I've got a message on my computer and it's from the INTERNET" he followed this up by some elaborate typing and adjusting of dials on his computer machine. "It's a distress call from the middle of the forest and it says STOP. HELP STOP. URGENT! HAVE CRASHED STOP. INTO A TREE STOP. STOP STOP. IRRETRIEVABLE HTML MARK UP ERROR STOP. then there's some coordinates and a warning that my computer may contain pornography and an IP address"
Ooosh! Tonight it's raining, my callers are all sorts of stupid and it's so cold both my balls froze off on the way to work and I am now a eunuch. But enough of this meandering excitement, for tonights update is all about brevity. UPDATE ENDS ABRUPTLY
So I stepped out of the second floor warehouse doorway, crept slowly down the iron staircase outside and edged round the side of the building. Gripping my Kalashnikov like I meant it, I leant into the wall until the first counter-terrorists wove into view. Squinting in the sunlight and taking a deep breath, I sighted up on the first guys head and pulled the trigger ... and that was the end of my hard drive.
WAAA! sorry, I wasn't expecting you to finish reading those that quickly, hmmph. Anyhoooch finally for now, sometimes I write myself little emails to remind myself to do things. You know, important stuff like family members birthdays, shopping lists, reminders to change my clothes, have an occasional shower or put out that barrel fire I saw burning downstairs the other week. So while writing this update and looking for the best of the worst shit from my inbox to fill space, I came across one of these emails and it seems at the time I was obviously tired of life. Still it made me laugh.
11:05am 5th April 2006
Hey man, as it's just you and me now, errr like yeah. I think we should get organised and on those few work nights where we're not watching boromir being pincusioned, we should definately get back to doing a bit of writing again. I figure that even if I write utter utter complete and totally crappy bollocks without trying at all in anywa... CRY ME A MOTHER FUCKING RIVER YOU LITTLE SHITHEAD CUNT
Hahahhaha nothing like ending on a hugely offensive swearbomb. Well that's my inbox cleaned out. Next time I'll be posting some of my diaries from when I was eight, which interesting enough all centre around graphic descriptions of throwing Star Wars figures in mud. Ahhh, them's were the days.