Musings of the damned
Eh up chucks, I havn't been on line much as my laptop monter is broken, it's currently taped in place with some masking tape. My birthday came and went...I recieved a dolphin calander and a £5 off No. 7 at boots voucher. In my family after 21 there is no celebration untill you are exceeding your life expency and as most of us drink ourselves to death or pick fights with dockers, we rarely exceed our life expectancy. I have had exams coming at me from all directions recently and have one on Tuesday, I should have spent today revising, so naturally I spent it watching Ray Mears. How amazing is he, thanks to him i was able to engage in a conversation about Bear safety techniques with Lez the other day, having had no bear experience. If you are over in Alaska, Canada or Russia, take GemLil she knows how to deal with bears. Now I'm imagining a bear in a rain coat with an arm full of watches and me just putting my arms above my head and shouting. Anyway I was wondering if Ray Mears has a wife because surely if he did she wouldn't let him out with that uni-brow. He also makes me mad to think about the peole who say "I would most like to be stranded on an island with Brad Pitt". No you wouldn't! He wouldn't know what to do and you may go out in the hot sun making animal love but you will never get to watch Television again...actually Ray Mears would probably be able to give you a very good seeing to due to his ability to find things where others cannot. "Very few people know that you can actually eat this" . Feminist gag there. And after, he would build you a shelter made of oysters and light a fire using water. Plus he wears short shorts and you dont see that on anyone other than the Mears and Lee Biggs.
I have came to the realisation that my feet are always wet. This is not a metaphor that despite my dry personality I am rooted in the moist richness of humility and love.. my feet are almost always wet. If I have a pair of socks on they will be wet within an hour, whether at my house or someone elses. This happens through constantly knocking over drinks, over persperation in my feet based sweat glands, having a lot of baths over the SWLTYLTYLTYPYDNP or the Suggested Water Line That You Lie To Your Parents That You Do Not Pass or the fact there is always some kind of flood or pipe leak around me. I live in a constant deluge...its like living in a fucking swamp. Now this may not seem like an issue to you but it is like Chinese water torture. It also places me in a position which I was conditioned against in my time in the TAs. I am speaking obviously of the pitfalls and trappings of TRENCH FOOT. A result of the constant wet conditions of trench warfare which led to the infection and disintigration of the skin and muscle of the foot. There was always a picture of a trenched foot on the wall with a list of ways a soldier can avoid it. It was titled "Trench Foot: A Soldier's Worst Enemy". Obviously it is the worst enemy of the soldier, the drowning in your own blood caused by mustard gas, the injuries and death caused by shelling; and its resulting dibilitating mental disease, major Anti-Air craft and Anti-tank fire, mortars, panzerfauts and grenades, germ warfare and infected water. Nothing on trench foot. And that is not to mention the numerous tortures that arise in war with the uncivilised enemy of today who ignore the article of war. I was watching Sharpe the other day and it made me laugh. Can you imagine a-thousand men heading toward a battle;
Man: Sir, Sir!, permission to speak Sir
Captain: Granted
Man: I was just thinking Sir, there are alot of us here
Cpt: Yes?
Man: Well we all have families, alot of people rely on us.
Cpt: Uh huh
Man: and a successful battle could be considered as one where all our soldier's arn't killed?
Cpt: well..yes
Man: *nervously* well I was thinking Sir, that we are awfully conspicuous in these uniforms. DON'T er don't, don't get me wrong, I love red. We all love the red, very British, argh! All, all for the red. But ! it does some what stand out against these green battle fields.
Cpt: mmm
Man: In fact red is the exact opposite colour of green, and the..the easiest colour toooo seeeee... so we couldnt actually stand out more.. in terms of colour. And even on the unfathomably rare chance that our enemy are all colourblind.... the marching band, drums, trumpets and pipes.. do notify the enemy of our arrival. Perhaps, just perhaps it might be more effective if our enemy could. not. see. us. ???
Cpt: *gun fire*
So were the articles of war maintained.
I have a hairy toe and a stomach ache so I must go to remedy them.. guys dont make passes at girls with hairy toes..or those who rant on about causes of War time fatality. A more girly update I am afraid is not within me. I fear I will never find the WWII officianado with a slightly homo-erotic love of Alan Rickman and an unhealthy love of Bill Murray, who enjoys frequent sex in which they must dress as random historical figures including centurions, celts and pirates and who possess the manners of an 18th Century Naval Officer that I so desperatly crave. This is why I hate everyone I date because they are not this perfect person which years of period dramas and the film rob-roy have made me create. And even if I could genetically modify such a man with the looks Johnny Depp and the voice of Liam Neeson, they will never love a girl who rants and hates girls and makes jokes about Plinnie the Elder. Who would rather spend a day digging for fossils than drinking champagne at a fine restaurant. Why was I cursed with such abnormality and without the perfect physical form which may have been my only hope of justifying such behaviour. She is crazy but at least she is hot. I am afraid I am destined to die alone with my Band of Brothers box set in one hand and the corporial manifestation of a string of broken norms in the other.. in the form of a Crushed Dr Pepper.
Click on THIS LINK and imagine me in a high backed arm chair sinking slowly into death, old and grey surrounded by trinkets.
I have came to the realisation that my feet are always wet. This is not a metaphor that despite my dry personality I am rooted in the moist richness of humility and love.. my feet are almost always wet. If I have a pair of socks on they will be wet within an hour, whether at my house or someone elses. This happens through constantly knocking over drinks, over persperation in my feet based sweat glands, having a lot of baths over the SWLTYLTYLTYPYDNP or the Suggested Water Line That You Lie To Your Parents That You Do Not Pass or the fact there is always some kind of flood or pipe leak around me. I live in a constant deluge...its like living in a fucking swamp. Now this may not seem like an issue to you but it is like Chinese water torture. It also places me in a position which I was conditioned against in my time in the TAs. I am speaking obviously of the pitfalls and trappings of TRENCH FOOT. A result of the constant wet conditions of trench warfare which led to the infection and disintigration of the skin and muscle of the foot. There was always a picture of a trenched foot on the wall with a list of ways a soldier can avoid it. It was titled "Trench Foot: A Soldier's Worst Enemy". Obviously it is the worst enemy of the soldier, the drowning in your own blood caused by mustard gas, the injuries and death caused by shelling; and its resulting dibilitating mental disease, major Anti-Air craft and Anti-tank fire, mortars, panzerfauts and grenades, germ warfare and infected water. Nothing on trench foot. And that is not to mention the numerous tortures that arise in war with the uncivilised enemy of today who ignore the article of war. I was watching Sharpe the other day and it made me laugh. Can you imagine a-thousand men heading toward a battle;
Man: Sir, Sir!, permission to speak Sir
Captain: Granted
Man: I was just thinking Sir, there are alot of us here
Cpt: Yes?
Man: Well we all have families, alot of people rely on us.
Cpt: Uh huh
Man: and a successful battle could be considered as one where all our soldier's arn't killed?
Cpt: well..yes
Man: *nervously* well I was thinking Sir, that we are awfully conspicuous in these uniforms. DON'T er don't, don't get me wrong, I love red. We all love the red, very British, argh! All, all for the red. But ! it does some what stand out against these green battle fields.
Cpt: mmm
Man: In fact red is the exact opposite colour of green, and the..the easiest colour toooo seeeee... so we couldnt actually stand out more.. in terms of colour. And even on the unfathomably rare chance that our enemy are all colourblind.... the marching band, drums, trumpets and pipes.. do notify the enemy of our arrival. Perhaps, just perhaps it might be more effective if our enemy could. not. see. us. ???
Cpt: *gun fire*
So were the articles of war maintained.
I have a hairy toe and a stomach ache so I must go to remedy them.. guys dont make passes at girls with hairy toes..or those who rant on about causes of War time fatality. A more girly update I am afraid is not within me. I fear I will never find the WWII officianado with a slightly homo-erotic love of Alan Rickman and an unhealthy love of Bill Murray, who enjoys frequent sex in which they must dress as random historical figures including centurions, celts and pirates and who possess the manners of an 18th Century Naval Officer that I so desperatly crave. This is why I hate everyone I date because they are not this perfect person which years of period dramas and the film rob-roy have made me create. And even if I could genetically modify such a man with the looks Johnny Depp and the voice of Liam Neeson, they will never love a girl who rants and hates girls and makes jokes about Plinnie the Elder. Who would rather spend a day digging for fossils than drinking champagne at a fine restaurant. Why was I cursed with such abnormality and without the perfect physical form which may have been my only hope of justifying such behaviour. She is crazy but at least she is hot. I am afraid I am destined to die alone with my Band of Brothers box set in one hand and the corporial manifestation of a string of broken norms in the other.. in the form of a Crushed Dr Pepper.
Click on THIS LINK and imagine me in a high backed arm chair sinking slowly into death, old and grey surrounded by trinkets.