2003-01-05 . 10:15 p.m.
Firstly, I'd like to apologise for not writing for a while. I'd like to but I won't. So get over it. I've basically been too lazy and apathetic. My life is not solely based within the realms of phantom electrons (though it would be cool if it was - I'd kick Neo's ass for a start).
Anyway.
The title of this entry is mine and Craig's motto from our hunting days. As the possessor of a spam dagger once described as "like a baby's arm holding an apple" he managed to distill his reputation down into that catchy phrase. Charming huh?
I have decided not to write about my lack of sex or whiskey which leaves me in a very tight hole indeed (er...no. not like that you filthy heathen). I have therefore chosen to write one of those great rants I do. When Unca Fwetch writes one all he gets is a big bunch of twats leaving anonymous notes in his guestbook. That sort of thing offends me greatly. Anyone I can't out-debate I could probably beat to a bloody pulp so it is of no real consequence to me.
Here is a big list of people who get on my tits (with a brief reasoning as to why). If you feel the desperate urge to stick a bug up your arse about what I write make sure it's a poisonous one, eh?
New Age Crackpots - "Oh hello there Paul, I just picked up this amazing crystal that totally maes me feel one in myself. A bargain at five quid."
ITS. A. FUCKING. ROCK. You stupid shithead. A ROCK. you can find them "au natural" and they cost you cock all. You want to feel one in yourself? Give it here and bend over. *THUMP*
Also under this particular heading come those who practise Wicca under some misguided idea that it has any affect on the real world. What a crap religion. If you curse me then you get it worse three times over? Alchemy is where the real money lies. Go make gold you dunderheads.
Dr Pepper - I have just had my first taste of Dr Pepper ever and I have spent the last 30 seconds licking my ashtray 'cos it tastes nicer. To think I even considered mixing that piss-water wth my Jack...
People Who Use Long Words That They Don't Understand - I take it as a great pleasure that I have a wide vocabulary. Those who read my diary may believe this consists solely of the word "fuck" used in conjuction with other completely random words. In real life this is not the case. I speak on a daily basis to approximately 100 people, none of whom have a brain cell to call there own. If it did, mum forgot to sew a name tag on it and they left it at primary school to die of loneliness. These people have an annoying tendency to pick up on a complex word I use and use it totally out of context. Some of my favourite retardations are "Digical" (that's "Digital" folks) and Installated (that's "Installed" my friends). Like people who argue with me about procedural or technical issues at work these people get right up my nose.
That Nosy Cow Who Said "Is that the Internet there?" At Work To Me The Other Day - Yes, you. You fucking dozy mare. Do you know exactly how little of my enormous brainpower I actually devote to my daily job? I can listen to a walkman, play battleships, read books and generally fuck about quite easily whilst dealing with the in's and out's of my job. I have been there for two years and just 'cos you've got a fucking salmon pink sash and are walking around helping the monkeys out doesn't mean I need or want your stupid input into my affairs. If you want to be useful, fetch me a coffee. With Extra Sugar. And Caffeine. Even the managers dont tell me off if I've got my feet up any more. Something to do with the fact that I am better at the job than they are maybe.
The Makers of Jim Beam - It's not Jack Daniels. Get over it. Quit and go make something less shit. Like Creme de Menthe.
Women Who Want To Fuck Me From Miles Away - Hi. I'll be over in a bit. Keep the bed warm. Oh, and I like my toast done on one side ;)
Fashion Horses - Just because you are wearing whatever is this season's most amazing collection doesn't stop you from being a shallow ignorant tosspot. This one goes out to all the girls wearing Burberry checks. It doesn't look nice. It's like the Tartan for Clan McShit.
Girl's wearing T-shirts across their tits that have amusing slogans like "stop looking at my tits" and (in really small text) "if you can read this you're getting on my tits". Actually I made that last one up so - PATENT PENDING (man I am going to have to actually patent all this shit one day).
People Who Leave Anonymous Notes In My Guestbook - This is a bit of a pre-emptive one. If you feel the desperate urge to whine like a little bitch if I have offended you, why not email me? I will answer each and every one sent to me. Seriously. If you have your head so far up your own arse that you can't accept other people having differing opinions why don't you do this author a favour and go cram a few hand grenades into a satchel, pull the pin from one and go sit in a very small locked room away from society waiting for the fizz to stop.
ahhhhhh...... and relax.
Thanks for listening people.
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