The World As I See It

This is probably the best question Blogger is likely to ask

2009-12-04T21:15:00.003Z

Q. Why does the taste of pennies remind you of losing a tooth?

A. I was born into a really poor family and one day (of many) we had nothing to eat. I dug around in my pockets hoping to find anything edible, when suddenly I found a penny.

"Yes!" I thought.

So I eat the penny. I lost four teeth and cracked a further twelve, but the important thing is I was taken to hospital after the penny lodged itself in my intestines and the hospital fed me.

The moral of the story?

If you don't have anything to eat; eat a penny.

-----

The reason it's posted here is because Blogger will never give me anything like that again. I miss the children in the sprinkler question. That was simple to tear apart.

GTA:IV from a casual standpoint.

2008-12-28T16:17:00.006Z

GTA:IV from a casual standpoint.

Spoiler warning: There will be spoilers about early missions in this entry so don't complain to me if you're butthurt that I spoiled a mission that you would play five minutes into the game.

Recently I indulged in what could very well be described as bit of a gaming binge. I had hardware failures left and right and I was already overdrawn with my bank, so I figured I should amuse myself a little for some RnR. I played TF2 a little, but got bored of it so I finally decided to buy Left 4 Dead (great game, actually. I only hope Valve is going to hurry up and release more compaigns) and finally Silent Hill: Homecoming (yet to play it) and GTA:IV for PC.

We're here to discuss GTA:IV, so forget about the other games mentioned.

Let's just go over my specs, shall we?

Windows XP x86
AMD 64 x2 6400+ BE (3.20GHz)
nVidia 9600GT 512MB
4GB Geil Black Dragon RAM (3.12 detected)
Abit AN68SV MoBo
Audio Kontrol 1 External Soundcard

First of all, I pirated it to make sure it would run on my system (Note to R*: That 200k you spent trying to make this game unpirateable? You failed miserably), played a few missions and then during the third or fourth mission (the car chase one) I hit a memory leak. I go speeding into an alleyway - overjoyed that I was yet to hit a wall - and then suddenly the frame rate drops. I sat back and watch my car move at maybe 2fp/s and shrugged it off assuming that it was my CPU playing up or overheating. The interesting thing is that the audio worked 100% fine, it came up in real time (hearing Roman screaming at me for losing the car and the Mission Failed sound) yet my car had moved maybe half a metre.

I uninstalled it deciding it was a problem with the pirated version and did a bit of research and that's when I found out that I was one of thousands of people who had came across this exact same error in various parts of the game. Some people can't actually get the game to run, which surprised me until they told us the settings they were trying to run in at.

Thump's note: I know why you do this - I do the same thing. I get a game and the first thing I do is head into the options menu and crank up the visual settings, but remember that GTA:IV is a port and you're trying to play it on settings that are higher than even the consoles can play (some people were playing at twice the resolution). Take a deep breath, sit back and lower your settings. I'm playing it on 800x600 to get an increase in other settings.

Now I'm feeling a little hesitant to buy GTA:IV, but on the 24th I decided that all of these problems would be ironed out eventually, so I bought the game hoping that R* would hurry up and release patches. Let's just go over the major problems I've encountered so far.

Games for Windows Live/Rockstar Social Club - Really, if you're going to release a game on Steam, take your excessive bullshit out of the way. It's awful, uneccesary and you're only doing it because you don't trust Steam have the piracy issue under control.
Memory leaks - What the hell, R*? I understand that you guys have a deadline to keep but that is no excuse for problems this big. This makes games unplayable and from what I can see there's no way to combat this. Once it hits it's game over, if you haven't saved then you're fucked. The most annoying thing about the memory leaks are that it can sometimes hit in the menu... go figure.
Sometimes the game doesn't actually load - I've no idea what the hell this is about. You can get it working only by restarting the game (I spent an hour trying to load it up). When I first installed the game I tried to run the graphics benchmark and during the loading screen it just cycled the song (which isn't set to loop) and then the montage continued to loop. No graphics benchmark at all.
Games for Windows Live - Once you're signed in (online or offline) you'll get a message at the bottom of the screen informing you that you can push "Home" at any point to enter the GFW:L service. That's all well and good, but sometimes when you press the Home key and the GFW:L overlay appears, and on occasion it will stop responding entirely. Also, it appears that the GFW:L account stops you from accessing Steam's "Friends" tab. I've pressed shift and tab and got it working once... but of course it wouldn't let me close the Steam Overlay.

These are the things I've noticed that can actually stop you from playing the game. GFW:L/RSC is the most annoying thing in my opinion. It wouldn't let me save my game because my wireless connection had faultered whilst I was creating a GFW:L account. Why not just tie it into the Steam system? It does the exact same job and you don't need to fight with the damn thing to get it working.

What do I think of this as a port? I think it's probably one of the worst ports in gaming history (yes, even worse than the MGS2 ports). It seems like those long months they were porting this game they completely ignored the optimisation and spent all their time figuring out how to stop the pirates - which is a total failure. Of course, in order to pirate the game you have to jump through hoops like a show horse on steroids and have to create accounts for GFW:L and RSC which can be a bit of a hassle, but even then it's nothing severe. Once you've made those two accounts, you block the applications from accessing the internet and you're playing the game. The only possible way to prevent piracy (as far as I can see) is to refuse offline play, and let's face it - that would be a disaster.

Don't get me wrong, I feel a lot of sympathy for R* and other PC game developers. The pirates are damaging the world of PC gaming, but instead of taking advantage of it, they brag about the game being "impossible to crack" which is enough to motivate any pirate. The gaming world is suffering the exact same knee jerk reaction that almost destroyed the music industry, and quite frankly, it's quite pathetic. I admit, I have pirated games in the past and will continue to do so, but if that game is worthy of my money than by all means I've no problem whatsoever in buying the game and supporting the developers (most of the time - they really aren't worth shit).

Let's swing the argument in another direction for a second.

PC gaming isn't suffering via piracy - everything is. PC is the easiest because it requires no modification whatsoever, the 360 is somewhat easy to modify (not sure how far the dev is on the new drives) and the PS3 is naturally resilliant to modification because nobody wants to spend a week downloading a 50GB game (along with the blu-ray burner and disks). Piracy has been around for ages and will continue to thrive as long as there's something that people want for nothing -- that's just human nature and greed.

R* fucked up with GTA:IV for the PC. Yes, I pirated the game but I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt and bought the game (which I'm now beginning to regret). My chief complaint is that the game isn't optimised at all... it's an awful port of the 360 version, and they need to take a long hard look at their list of priorities and figure this shit out - preventing piracy is one thing, but preventing gameplay is something else.

Update: I actually had every intention of posting this the other day when I had wrote it, but my internet disconnected (it hates WPA encryption) and I thought "fuck it" and went to bed. Since then I've tried just about every fix I can imagine. I found an interesting fix and tried that... it gave me better graphics, but I still had the annoying stuttering glitch. My message from R* was that my processor wasn't powerful enough to run the game constantly (another nail in the R* Toronto coffin), so I replied immediately with the system specifications that they had handed out, and to no surprise of mine I got no response from them.

Sigh.

On the forum I linked to earlier, a topic caught my attention. It was entitled How I fixed my stuttering/lagging problem. Intrigued, I looked to see what it said and promptly laughed like a crackwhore being tickled with a feather by their dealer. Earlier today I figured I'd try it just to try and improve my graphics at full screen and holy shit it worked. I actually played more than two missions without a sign of lag... I was fucking amazed.

And I swear I'm going to destroy the next person who says this game doesn't work because "it's still in development". If R* Toronto weren't so eager to get the game out for Christmas, we wouldn't have had to go through this whole bullshit. Sometimes you just need to spend more time with a game before you release it - and this is one of those times.

Old Saint Nick.

2008-12-24T21:50:00.002Z

So I've been meaning to update this for some time but I was either busy, or I'd forget clean about it. The past two days I've been telling myself to update but I just didn't get around to it - but now things are different!

As I type this it's Christmas Eve, it's 7°C with a general humidity of around 75% with good view - these are perfect conditions for the man we all know as Santa Claus to make his attack. I hear you all saying "Oh, but Thump - Santa wouldn't attack us!", well you're all horrendously wrong.

For me to explain this, we must look at our old friend from Lapland in many lights - some of which may very well disturb you to the point of insanity... but that's a risk we're going to have to take. Come with me as we journey into the darker side of "Jolly Old Saint Nick".

*Note: Thump is drinking so this post may or may not make sense*

The story of Mr. Claus can be dated back to the early days of Greece. A bishop by the name of "Myra" who was intensely generous and gave people gifts and shit, now that doesn't sound too bad, right? Wrong. He showed particular interest in three young girls who he gave stuff too so they wouldn't have to become prostitutes, wait, you still think he sounds like a nice guy? Well, now I have to educate you in the early days of Christianity.

See, the 4th century Christians just loved buggery (particularly young boys), and they liked their kids young - three young girls and a bishop? Aside from being a somewhat interesting sounding sitcom, that's what we now call "grooming"! Anyway, the whole idea of being generous stuck and some drunkard came in from ye olde pube and started jabbing off to his hooker about this bishop called "Mah... my... ny? Ny... ni... Nick!".

AND SANTA CLAUS WAS BORN!

Warning: At this point I'm somewhat drunk and have decided to make this short so I don't get into obscure shit.

Anyway, it's nearly Christmas and I've wrote this in about an hour and a half because I've been distracted.

So, as the story goes - Santa comes down our chimney and puts presents under the tree for all of those who have been good... those who have been naughty little brats get a lump of coal (it's officially Christmas - have a good one). Now, that's all well and good - they had open fires back then. Santa coming down the chimney was believable... but now we have electric and full grate gas fires, he can get down the chimney but then... then he hits a dead end. What?

He's a fucking Suliban!

Don't believe me? Explain how he can get through those grates on your electric fire? He's been genetically enhanced!

Now, I'm going to finish off the rest of the beer in my fridge, read over this tomorrow and cringe.

Good night to you all.

The irony of advertisement.

2008-05-19T22:52:00.002+01:00

So I was thinking last night, "Maybe I should finally update TWAiSi" but I didn't have anything to write about. I've been exhausted recently due to ridiculous amounts of coding and of course the whole 'trying to write a full length, double disked album' kind of gets me down at times... plus college on top of that.

Then on my way back from college, I realised my error: human stupidity will never let me down.

First thing that gave me a "wait wat" moment was when I noticed a black guy walking down the street a few feet in front of me. I couldn't help but admire his jacket in all it's plain, ugly, grotesque glory. Seriously, if that jacket were a person, that person would be shot dead out of kindness. Yes, it was that bad.

The interesting thing about this jacket is that it read "Pride and honour: Modified threads". Now, I pondered over this for a few moments and realised that this man had obviously went to a cheap thrift store, bought this hideous jacket and then sent it into this prideful company to modify the stitching. It makes perfect sense! That, however, still left the question as to why this man would degrade himself to wearing such shit... and then I realised!

This guy was walking around making us all feel so much better for the terrible clothes we were wearing. Fuck, his clothes were so bad he had to get somebody to modify the stitching for fuck sakes. You could literally see the sheer delight of the homeless people lining the pavement, secure in the knowledge that they are better dressed than at least one person in the world who probably has a job and a home!

Literally five minutes after I saw a man worse dressed than Jeremy Clarkson himself, I noticed an interesting little advertisement on the side of a truck. Now, I can't remember the exact wording, but I'll try my best:

"Traffic Direct

Keeping the traffic moving"

...it said as it was broke down on a major road heading out of a busy city centre in the middle of rush hour.

Well shit, that's the exact kind of company I want to be directing my traffic. At this point, it's worth mentioning that reading that gave me an audible laugh... however what I witnessed afterwards literally split my sides.

They had there own fucking bollards.

That's right. Not content with causing a traffic jam, they created a contraflow too! You could literally see the sheer delight on the Police Officers face as it suddenly hit him that he now had paperwork to fill in (in case you're completely retarded, diverting traffic is illegal unless you are working for the council or similar, and even then you need to fill in paperwork and all that fun) as he took the registration of the vehicle (I think it was 70t4l 7ard).

As much as I would love to write more about this interesting subject of more idiots, I'm afraid I have to be leaving to do... that's right! Work.

Have fun.

Stop saying "cummed" you fucking idiots.

2008-04-06T23:18:00.002+01:00

Remember when you first went into school and learned about languages and numbers? Remember when you were told off because you said "I've beened to the park"? Right, you were told off because (now this might surprise you) the word "beened" isn't a word at all! I just made it up, right off the top of my head which is exactly what we used to do when we were kids. We invented our own grammar and we didn't let a silly thing like the English language get in our way!

Now you're all grown up and you still don't let a silly thing like the English language get in your way. Do you know what we call people like you?

You guessed it! Idiots.

Seriously, you are all a bunch of idiots. The lowest form of complete and utter fucking inbred retards.

Now you're all more than welcome to come and say "lol but if u hang sum1 dey havnt ben hung dy wer hanged" and to a certain extent, yes, that's true. Unfortunately those grammar laws are kept around for the sake of tradition. The language has long since evolved since then and you're still an idiot.

Kill yourself.

Stop emailing me.

2008-04-01T21:05:00.002+01:00

Really, it's getting annoying. The more you email me, the less time I have to do my work and the less time I have to actually post new material. I'm juggling a lot of different things here so please be patient. Doing so much at once is difficult as it is without having to sift through "OMG U NEVA POST NEMOR".

Jesus, now I know how Maddox feels.

Stop suggesting topics to write because I won't write them, even if I was intending on it. Writing about fat girls might sound funny in your head, but I can assure you it isn't half as funny when put into context. One day, when I get around to it, I'm going to write a script for my email that filters all the common misspellings (such as 'u', and 'yoo') simply because the second I see that, I click 'delete'.

Long and short of it: Kill yourselves and save me some time.

Feminism

2008-02-22T02:21:00.001Z

http://theproblemwithwomentoday-reality2008.blogspot.com/

Words actually fail me. I mean literally fucking fail me.

Ugh... coding... insomnia... death

2008-02-19T02:58:00.006Z

This isn't going to be long... at all.

Thank you for all the pleasant emails you've been sending me over the past two or three days. Really, I feel so happy to know that you fuckers read my blog but refuse to comment any more.

You guys think I don't know when my own blog is down? Jesus, I caused the downtime. I was trying to redirect the blog to my website (In order to use my own bandwidth instead of Google's which is limited to 100 readers at once, which you would imagine is plenty for a small blog but to be honest, I'm sick of Google emailing me to tell me that I have exceeded my quota) to prevent myself from recoding a new style sheet... well, it failed. Miserably.

On with the story. I have my own website and (with any luck) will be switching servers in the next week or two depending on how lazy I'm feeling. The problem with this is trying to figure out a way in which I can move all 101 posts (including this one) PLUS comments (Including the old comments if they're still archived in Google's database) at once to save me having to go through all of them and retitling/dating them.

Yeah, I understand and accept that I'm pretty much fucked.

I haven't been posting a lot because of a couple of reasons, which I will conveniently list for you all!

I've been talking with an independent producer about my band which means that I have to hurry the fuck up and finish this album.
I've became a moderator on a board which demands a lot of attention and may also be offering my expertise as a coder on the same site.
My website is currently undergoing the transition from HTML to PHP... which I've never done before and is causing the CSS template some compatibility issues.
I'm yet to recode two separate pages on my website to host both this blog, and my bands blog and figure out a fix for the aforementioned problem.

No rest for the wicked.

100 posts and still going strong!

2007-12-27T04:43:00.001Z

Yes, you can stop emailing me now! I've updated! Yay!

This will be my 100th post on The World as I See it. The blog that was originally a techno-blog but wanted to be so much more... and what shall I do to hail this monumental occasion? Why nothing of course!

But I will give you a waffle. Doesn't it look nice? All syrupy and all? It's a good waffle. Yeah, damn right it is.

LOOK AT THE WAFFLE! HAIL IT! WORSHIP THE WAFFLE!

ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY WAFFLE FOR IT SHALL FREE US FROM OUR DAILY TOILS!

Stumble Upon and a rather interesting update

2007-12-14T16:54:00.000Z

Recently, I began buying a new computer and it began with the Motherboard and Processor now, x86 Vista didn't like the thought of this fancy new upgrade to Dual Core (Yes, I realise AMD have released the Phenom range, but so far I've been unimpressed by them) and decided it'd be a good idea to refuse to boot at all... this usually wouldn't be as much of a problem, but I automatically blamed it on the CPU or Motherboard (I actually panicked for a bit because I was unsure whether or not the PSU would fit into the MoBo -_-) instead of just thinking logically about it.

Thump's thought: FUCKING HELL £150 FOR SOMETHING THAT DIDN'T WORK?!

Thump's hindsight: Wait, it's an Athlon 64 Dual Core. I'm running a x86 version of Vista Ultimate and that may cause some problems, it also could have something to do with a sloppy install of the BIOs.

Thump's thought to the possibility of (what is now) the hindsight: OH FUCKING ODIN, WHAT THE FUCK?! I DID EVERYTHING RIGHT FOR FUCK SAKES, EVEN THE FUCKING MANUAL SAYS I DID!

Thump's hindsight to the entire situation: lol

Anyway, I calmed down (It's worth noting I had no sleep and honestly thought that I couldn't run a 6400+ on a stock AMD CPU, apparently I can and it works absolutely fine) and reinstalled Vista... yes, I formatted my Hard Drive loosing countless funny images and my Firefox bookmarks including a couple of awesome programs I can't remember the name of.

Whatever. 3.20Ghz of processing power and an on board GPU that won't force me to change my display settings when I want to watch a video. I was a fucking winner.

Once I finally got everything tuned in (I still need to install Forceware drivers on my GPU) and functional I let everything stay as it was before I even considered doing any more work on it. Today I finally became bored enough to install my extensions and gain some functionality in my Firefox again, which I did!

Enough of back story and mindless twaddle, you all get the idea now.

I got very bored (I'm still waiting for 4GB of RAM and my 8600GTS... and a SATAII HDD, come to think of it... but yeah, for reasons listed above, gaming is out of the question.) and began clicking StumbleUpon. The first click revealed something about being a responsible cat owner... whatever, the second click however... the second click revealed something so much more interesting.

"Does Semen have Antidepressant properties?"

The link to said article can be found here.

This is... a very interesting article to say the least, and a rather interesting website, if I do say so myself. If you can't be bothered to read all that psychoanalytical bullshit and just want something more to the point, humorous (No matter which way you splice it, it's fucking funny) or all together random, you might want to consider continuing reading this.

Basically in 1986 somebody put a hypothesis across to a board of psychologists saying that male ejaculatory fluid may in fact be a great way to cure depression (It's worked great for men for millennia; why shouldn't it work for women?). Anyway, there was some tests carried out probably involving mass amounts of sex... now this is where I wish I was really good friends with the organiser and actually alive and sexually active (Or not. Hell, I'm easy) just so I could take part in this... experiment.

Girlfriend: You're not doing it! It's disgusting!
Me: No, you're looking at it all wrong. I'm not partaking in this test for mindless pleasure! God no! This is for Science!

I don't know the results of those tests, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the men walked out of the examination rooms with huge fucking smiles on their faces.

Now, in 2002 a trio of Scientists (Or Psychologists? I don't know or care, really) decided to go about figuring out results of sex and condom usage. Again, I know the answer of this one before it even started. Men walked out of the examination rooms with huge fucking smiles on their faces. Condom or not, sex is sex and scientific sex sounds kinky as hell and when isn't kinky good?

As you can imagine, I was already in fits of hysteria by the time I discovered this section:

* Women having sex without condoms (often using alternative methods of contraception) were less depressed than those using condoms.
* Numbers of reported suicide attempts were proportional to consistency of condom use (less consistent use was associated with fewer suicide attempts).
* For those not using condoms, depression scores increased with the time since they last had sex.

Women having sex without condoms were less depressed than those using condoms. Well, that's a surprise. Before sex they don't have to fuck around (No pun intended) with pieces of plastic and during sex they don't have to feel pieces of plastic moving around inside of them... these incredible perverts could have had the same results from a survey at an Ann Summers store, for the love of Odin.

Numbers of reported suicide attempts were proportional to consistency of condom use. Less consistent use was associated with fewer suicide attempts... well, I'm looking at this from a scientific standpoint here and just don't understand this. It's a direct contradiction to the first, yet it makes more sense! Think about it! People who don't fuck with plastic bags get whiny little baldy bastards! It's obvious!

But imagine this, though. You receive a letter through the post describing this examination and notice it calls for "Depressed mothers who have attempted suicide at least once before. Being a mother is not mandatory as we need both mothers and bitches who fuck with Johnny.". The first thought to cross your mind is: "My God! This sounds like me!" and then you debunk it as bullshit until you turn it over and realise it says: "£50 for all participants." and before you know it, you're booked in for Tuesday afternoon. The questions you're asked follows like so:

1. Are you a parent?
1a. How many children do you have?
1b. Have you ever considered having children?
2. Have you ever attempted suicide?
2a. How many times?
2b. Why not? Become an hero.
3. How active is your sex life?
4. Do you have sex with or without a condom?
5. Are you depressed?
6. Would you like the £50 or the Mystery Box?

Seriously, imagine that. "Have you ever attempted suicide?" followed by "Do you fuck with a condom?". It could only happen in real life.

For those not using condoms, depression scores increased with the time since they last had sex. We're beyond the realm of regular people and into the 'Catholic Zone', or CZ as I like to call it. What that means is that they sinned when they decided to have sex. They sinned when they had sex, and to add insult to injury they sinned even more when they did it without a condom. I mean, shit, God is going to fucking smite their arse now, right?

Now, I'll close this rather perverted topic with the following exerpt:

The authors also consider different ways of testing the hypothesis further - all of which would probably require much more work in convincing an ethics committee. In fact, this may well be one of those situations where the intrusive nature of a more conclusive study is just not warranted when balanced against the potential gain in knowledge.

Fucking LIES.

--------------------

Some of you may be aware that I currently attend a rather expensive dumpster known as 'Newcastle College' and some of you might even be privileged enough to attend said dumpster with me! If you just go there and don't know me: You fucking fail. End yourself.

If you do attend Newcastle College (Mainly the Performance Academy), you'll know about an infamous teacher by the name of Phil Poolan. Well, I was on the bus with a girl who I'm on the same course with and we started laughing at Mr. Poolan's expense, you know, because that's what you're supposed to do. Anyway, we decided to compile a list of humorous quotes said by him over the course of last year and some humorous actions (Though she'll never admit it, she was touching him up under the keyboard. She's a dirty whore!). I decided to indulge further into this matter and immediately decided it would be a great idea to chronicle his life, as it were. And so it shall be!

I aim to write a chapter a week (Starting from whenever I can be bothered to begin) and once the chapters have been completed, then we shall move onto the quotes and actions. "But why are you doing this, Thump, O Mighty One?", why did you need to ask? Because we really don't have anything better to do.

So without further ado....!

*vanishes*

ATTN: Christians. Leave me alone.

2007-10-27T19:10:00.000+01:00

Recently I've been getting a lot of emails from a certain group of Christians (I won't make them famous by naming them) who just seem to love me. My spam box has increased in size by a good few hundred emails because of these idiots 'missionary' (harassment) work. It began with them trying to convert me to their wonderful religion by informing me of the life and death of Jesus Christ.

Because I didn't know about him before that.

Anyway, they sent me an email discussing his birth and how I should repent from my heathenish ways. Of course, I gave them a very graphic description about how they can insert their holy bible into a certain orifice and assumed that would be it. But of course, these were Christians... they wouldn't bow down to such thing!

So, I'm sitting here, right? Listening to music and stuff, and then I realise that I have four emails in my GMail box (the one tied to this account). Turns out they had wrote this fucking essay about how I should repent (interspersed with random insults towards both my Odinist morals and many insults towards me as a person) and again the usual "Godless heathen" was thrown in.

I'm sorry, but I don't understand it. I'm religious therefore I worship a God... is it really that difficult to comprehend? So, after the "Godless heathen" count reached it's milestone of 800, I started becoming annoyed:

"Alright, so you're pretty convinced that I'm a Godless heathen, that statement is riddled with falsities. I agree that I am a heathen, yes. After all, Odinism is a heathen religion however to say I am "Godless"? How can a man who worships not one, but an entire planet of them possibly be "Godless"? I can worship Odin (The Allfather), or I can worship Thor (The God of Thunder and War). Perhaps I may decide to worship Baldr, the most beautiful of all the nine worlds... or if you continue to harass me, I will decide to worship Loki.

Loki is not actually a god, however many Odinist's agree that Loki can be considered the God of Mischief; and you really don't want to get me in a mischievous mood, now do you?

Take my advice and do not email me again."

Of course, how could they resist? Many people decide on giving up because I am simply determined to annoy the holy living hell out of them. This is essentially why I'm typing this out now, because I know for a fact they're going to get all happy that somebody might actually care enough about them to give them free publicity.

Didn't expect me not to name you though, did you fuckers? Also, where's your reply to my last email? Don't like the fact that I've just blown holes in all of your arguments? I'm glad that stupid hippy died, he brought nothing to this world but lies and torment. Go fight another holy war while I convince Odin to give me the Berserker Rage, that way I can build your crucifixes quicker.

Secrets of Sexual Seduction! (21/10/07)

2007-10-25T22:07:00.000+01:00

So, a while ago, on a website that does not exist somebody discovered a rather amusing eBay article. "THE SECRETS OF INVISIBILITY!" or something to that effect. Much laughter ensued, and even more laughter as some idiot payed the $25 for it... but it came with bonuses! Yay! Eight eBooks in total, one of which about the true, undisputed facts of invisibility, six about sex, and one about talking to animals. Now, we won't bother with Invisibility, simply because... well, because it's physically impossible. We also won't talk about the Dr. Dolittle shit because... well, because it's absolute shit.

However! The true unedited secrets of sexual seduction can not be hidden from our mortal, material plain! Oh no!

With my internet down, and boredom ensuing, I have decided to dig around my eBook folder (and even organise my musical eBook folder! Which currently stands at 83.6MB...) and I came across a folder named "INVISIBLE MAGIC"... the fuck? Oh, I remember! To hell with it, I've got about four hours to waste before doing nothing, why the hell not? So, though I had every intention to read (and even teach!) myself the secrets of invisibility, I noticed the Secrets of Sexual Seduction!

I read it, o my brothers. I read it good.

I wasted a good hour or so reading the history of mankind (no joke, it's about half of the .txt file) and eventually began trying to gouge my eyes out with my USB drive. I skipped the rest of it. Anyway, I came to the nitty gritty stuff, about how to pick up women and fuck them!

Now, what I propose to do is to actually break down the parts of it that made me laugh, exclaim 'what the fuck?' and even contemplate gouging said eyes out with a USB drive. Bit... by fucking bit. Don't worry, I've only read about three quarters of it, so I'm probably just going to skim the rest of this particular one (remember, there's five more .txt files which may or may not be promptly deleted, I might actually consider keeping them on my hard drive, wasting my valuable bytes).

...And so began the torment.

At this point in the 'story', the idiot (the author) has talked about how women came to have flexible pelvis' and how new borns have flexible skulls (apparantly to prevent against Darwin's theory of 'natural selection' which is essentially people dying of natural causes [IE: Childbirth, cancer, flu, excessive drug use etc.]) and so forth. It talks about evolution and genetics, how we have had our positive traits passed down to our offspring through generations.

Please note: I have not done any research for any of this, nor do I intend to. It's a fucking blog, get over it.

But if natural selection can be held accountable for squishy-headed babies
and flexible female pelvis's, women’s orgasms and outright refusal of sexual
advances... what beneficial traits could men bring to the table to increase
survival of the new human species? There were 7.

Color blindness, left handedness, baldness, difference of height, difference
of hair & skin colors, homosexuality and artistic ability.

That's right. Colour blindness is a positive trait. As is being left handed (Which proves Hitler wrong, apparantly), being bald, being of a different height, hair and skin colours and that's right, even homosexuality and artistic ability is a positive trait! Now, I can see how artistic ability is a positive trait... without it, we wouldn't have developed language (unless you consider a series of grunts language), art, music or anything else for that matter. Until this point, I was actually taking this pretty seriously... or at least trying to.

Now, according to the idiots theory, the colour blind (which is considered a disability in todays society) can see what people [who see colour fine] can't! Genius! Apparantly, the colour blind man who sees blues and/or greens as shades of grey, can see the animal they're hunting fine! Haha!

However, this is 2007. If we want some meat, we usually go down to the supermarket.

The left handedness helps because not all of the spears/rocks will be thrown by a right hand! Clever shit is at work! That means that the Deer won't be able to escape the barrage of spears/rocks coming from both RIGHT and LEFT hands!

However, this is 2007. If we want some meat, we usually go down to the supermarket.

The Baldness helps in the way that the Deer becomes familliar with those funny, two legged mammals with the big ball of fuzz on the top of those pumpkin shaped heads (This was almost word for word), and they associate those two legged mammals with the big ball of fuzz on the top of those pumpkin shaped heads with death, naturally. However, the Deer doesn't understand that, although it's the same two legged mammal with the same pumpkin shaped head that it might kill it! Because he's bald, you see.

Difference of height is a positivie trait because all the arrows will be thrown at different heights! Because humans could never (we still can't, you know?) aim our arrows and spears. The tall guy throws his spear just over the top of the Deer, the short guy throws it just underneath the Deer! What about the guy who is around average height? He gets the kill, apparantly.

However, this is 2007. If we want some meat, we usually go down to the supermarket.

Homosexuality... hah, this is a good one. He's the only one out of the hunting party who has a 'favourite rock' for a start, and how is homosexuality a positive trait? I love this bit, personally. Because the fag has no kids to provide for! ...instead he has probably one of the largest families known to the primitave human race. So what he kills, he is then forced to share out between his brother who has a shitload of kids, his sister who just can't keep her legs shut, his mother (his father died last winter due to a fever) and all the old people who can't hunt (and of course the artists and priests who are even faggier than the actual homosexual guy).

Artistic ability was already covered in the first paragraph on this section and I'm not typing up more than I have to.

Women are everywhere but some men complain that they can’t find women to
date. Maybe he works in a small office or lives in a small town or only has
a small circle he travels in and women aren't around. These men are dead
wrong.

This is wrong, there is absolutely no woman in my room right now, therefore women are not everywhere, as is pointed out in this eBook.

He thinks ‘She's so good looking that she must have a boyfriend. She must
have endless dates. She wouldn't be interested in a guy like me. She'll
say no and I'll be playing the fool again.’ So he watches her walk away and
does nothing.

The pain and fear of rejection stops some men from trying and the dream
becomes the reality. She won't say yes because he never asked her.

at stake.", see the difference?

For this next part, I don't think I'll comment (unless it's due) because... well, just fucking read it. If any man does this, he's whipped beyond imagination and has a universally sized thumb print slap bang in the middle of his forehead. It's also interesting to note that this is where I stopped reading.

WARNING: WALL OF FUCKING TEXT

TIPS FOR A BETTER HOME:

Maybe it's time to move. If you live in a bad section of town or your
apartment is a hole, look around town and try to find nicer digs. If she
has to worry about her car parked outside, she may worry about you too.

Buy 2 bottles of wine, one white and one red and keep them in your (clean)
refrigerator for her. Have a few bottles of water in the fridge, too.

Put a small bowl of apples on the kitchen table.

Get 1 or 2 nice houseplants and don't let them die.

Buy a box of tampons and a box of feminine napkins. Sooner or later a woman
will need them. Buy condoms.

Buy a few vanilla candles and light them before you go out.

Use light bulbs no brighter than 60 watts and a couple of table lamps at 40
watts are even better. Overhead lights are to be avoided. You don’t want
her to think she's visiting a hospital.

Take down any picture, poster or wall hanging that has a nude woman or
fashion model on it. It’s your home, not a college dorm. For that matter,
take down any picture or poster that's not professionally framed. If you
really like it, have it framed.

Buy a CD that's a compilation of slow instrumental pieces and have it ready
to play at low volume.

If your windows don't have shades or curtains get them and put them up. She
won't take off her clothes in front of open windows.

Buy 2 new bathrobes, a dark color for you and bright white for her. She'll
know that hers is clean by the brightness of it.

Get a clean trashcan for the kitchen that has a lid. Empty it daily.

Put a waste can in the bathroom and keep it empty.

Have a few bars of unwrapped soap ready near the shower.

Buy a new toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste and keep them in your
bathroom, unopened and ready for her.

If you have a home office, straighten it out. Buy a plastic organizer and
file those papers away and put them all out of sight.

If you have a cat, empty that cat box and buy some rug deodorizer. That cat
has pissed in every corner of every room and you know it.

If you have a dog, shampoo it. Old Red smells like crap.

All of your clothes are on hangers or folded away in drawers. No
exceptions.

Clean every mirror, every faucet and wash any floor that doesn't have a
carpet on it.

If you smoke, keep only one ashtray and throw the others away. Buy vanilla
air freshener and use it.

Open every window and let fresh air in at every opportunity.

Get a clothes hamper with a lid and use it. If it's been worn and it’s
dirty, it's in the hamper. No exceptions.

If you have an aquarium make sure there’s no dead fish and no algae growing
on the glass.

If you have pet mice, hamsters, gerbils or a pet snake get rid of them!
They stink and most women think they're creepy.

Clean your coffee pot and have coffee ready to brew.

Buy a small collection of flavored teas. Most women love tea.

Buy a small bag of Hershey’s kisses and keep them in the freezer. Women
LOVE chocolate! Thaw as needed.

Hide all pornography & adult videos. Really hide them. No woman wants to
look for her shoe under your bed and find your sticky smut.

Paint the walls and ceilings. Take down a picture off the wall and take a
look. If there's a shadow left behind your walls are in bad shape. Paint them.

TIPS FOR A BETTER CAR:

Empty your ride of all trash. Clean your windows, seats and carpets. If
your car has Mardi Gras beads, bobbing-headed dogs, fuzzy dice or any other
crap hanging inside lose them! You look like a fool. You’re car should be
comfortable, clean and inviting. Anything less and she’ll think less of you.
Same thing goes with bumper stickers. She won't think they're funny and
she'll think you’re an adolescent. Take them off with soapy water and a
razorblade.

If your cell phone doesn’t take pictures, keep a disposable or digital
camera in your car. Women love having their picture taken, even if they deny
it.

Pimp your ride. You don’t need $2k rims but add some flash inside. Flash
means cash and you’ll look more affluent. A DVD player, a decent music
system and small dash lights adds excitement to your car.

Keep 2 large clean blankets in a plastic bag in your trunk. You can’t have
sex in the woods or on a deserted beach at midnight without them. Keep a
huge umbrella for 2 on the back floor of your car or in your trunk. Sharing
an umbrella in the pouring rain is hot and romantic! Buy a medium sized
pair of women’s black shorts and a medium sized black tee-shirt and store
them wrapped in plastic in your car’s trunk. Someday, somehow she may need
a fresh pair of clothes. Store 3 tampons and 3 feminine napkins in a clean
plastic bag in your trunk along with a new, unused hairbrush. Condoms
don’t last long in the car. The latex breaks down from excessive heat. If
it’s been a while, refresh the condoms in your car.

Always suggest that the both of you sit in the back seat when parking. It’s
far more romantic and there’s no steering wheel or console to hinder you.

She NEVER reaches under the seat and finds another woman’s panties. NEVER!

Use a good deodorizer in your car. Keep it out of sight under the seats.
Unless she’s a smoker, don’t smoke in the car with her… she hates the smell
and may end up hating you.

Drive like an adult when you're driving with her. Don't speed, run lights
or yell insults at other drivers.

Never, EVER allow an open beer in your car. The police will arrest you and
take your car away. If she wants to drink a beer pull over and both of you
get out and drink it outside of the car. Throw the empty away. Don't ruin
your life because she has a set of boobs.

Store a few large clean towels in your trunk inside a plastic bag. She
won’t go skinny dipping if you don’t have towels.

Normal men lead normal lives. No pirate flag on the antenna.

If your car seats are stained or dirty, buy seat covers and fresh floor
mats.

Fix the AC and the heater. She won't be turned on if she's sweating or
freezing to death.

If your car is in really bad shape, consider renting a car before picking
her up for your date.

If you like to smoke weed, leave it at home. Cops love it when their K-9
dog starts barking at your window. They REALLY love it. Potheads are
stupid by nature and the cops know that they'll find pipes, papers, clips,
seeds and roaches inside the car. Get rid of it, you fool!

Always remind her to put on her seat belt. You’re a responsible guy!
(Plus, the shoulder belt divides her boobs and shows them off nicely!)

Don’t crank the tunes! Keeping the music low let’s you talk. Save the 110
db for your bros.

Keep 30 or 40 clean facial napkins in your glove box. She can use them if
she has to pee in the woods. If you’re traveling, every 90 minutes or so
ask her if she needs to stop at a rest area ‘to check her smile’ or freshen
up. Women always have to pee and are sometimes embarrassed to ask to stop.

Don’t fart in your car. Pull over, pop the hood and tell her you’re
checking the radiator. Leave the motor running and fart at the front of the
car with the hood up. If you have to take an emergency piss, pee behind
your car. A real man can hold his urine so try not
to make emergency pee stops a habit.

Getting oral sex while you’re driving is hot but be sure you can easily
reach the break pedal with your pants down. Nothing ruins car sex quicker
than smashing into the car in front of you. If she’s not going to swallow,
tell her to hold your penis tight against your belly when you come so you
don’t spray her hair, the interior of you car, your carpets, seats or your
clothing. If you’re going to have intercourse in the car, use the back seat
and open the rear passenger door to give you both extra leg-room.

She won’t bend over and have sex on the fenders or lay naked on the hood of
your car if your car is dirty, so visit a car wash. Most modern cars are
made of thin metal. Will your hood hold the weight of both of you without
denting or caving in? Hoods get hot so check for heat first.

When you’re with your woman in the car always ignore pretty women walking on the street or in other cars around you.

I love how the idiot says "Potheads are stupid by nature", did this fucker stop and consider the fact that they may be a little slow because of the pot they're smoking? (At this point I'm actually just scanning what I can see in Wordpad) Also, what if you're serious about the girl? Surely she'll see the car you drive at some point? Remember never to ask if she would like to"stop at a rest area to 'check her smile'" as it leads to immediate removal of testes. As for the facial napkins... they have that shit to stop grease and to clean grease from your facial pores... shouldn't imagine it'd work to well on a vagina, it might actually be helpful if your woman is in fact a man, as I've never met a women who admits to needing to urinate in the woods.

Don't fart in your car! Instead, stop the car, pop the hood (So what if you're on a motorway?) and run the fuck around to the front while screeching "I NEED TO CHECK THE RADIATOR! IT MIGHT BE HOT!" and then fart. Only after the gas has passed your cheeks may you return to your vehicle. And REAL men can go for fucking days without pissing! Oh, you can't? Well, you must be a fag.

Also, when recieving oral sex while driving, for the love of christ, don't just unzip and unbutton! Pull your pants down like a real man! Nothing like shit stains on your drivers seat (Note: Give this a miss if your car is rented). When you're about to ejaculate, remember to get it all over yourself, as you really wouldn't want to get any of it on her (Note: If your woman isn't prepared to swallow your man juice while giving head, she probably won't give you head while you're driving, or give you head at all, for that matter)! When you're fucking your woman, use the backseat! You do this for a couple of different reasons:

1- So you don't feel violated by your gearstick
2- Because there's more room!
3- So you don't accidently hit the accelerator pedal in the throes of passion and drive into that police car parked infront of you.

And always remember to open the back passenger door! You're committing a crime as it is, might as well give yourself some extra legroom while you're at it! Who cares if somebody decides to pull you and your lover out of the car and drive away, leaving you both naked and needing a piss in the middle of nowhere?

There is actually one paragraph I removed from there... simply because it was fucking worth it. The parts you should read are bolded.

Women aren’t usually good at driving while being fingered. If she’s trying
to concentrate on driving, it may stop her from having an orgasm. Suggest
that she pull over first.

This shit is even better. Something that many Brits (including me) should take serious note of! That's right! It's dental hygeine time!

So, now you have a new, firm toothbrush, a bottle of H2O2, whitening gel,
stain removing toothpaste, a tooth pick, an electric polisher, a whitening
toothpaste and whitening chewing gum. You're ready to bleach and whiten
your teeth.

...or you could just buy a cheap toothbrush, whitening gel and some whitening toothpaste. I was actually going to post what was next (a 24 step guide on how to brush your teeth with all that shit).

I was actually going to skim the rest of this shit and post points that caught my interest... but then I realised I had about a third of it left... and it's basically all metrosexual shit after that... about hair... and make up (Yes, that's right. Men wearing make up outside of Glam Rock). It talks about how to paint a six pack onto yourself using foundation or eyeliner... that is where I stopped reading and deleted the file. If you want a woman that badly? Chances are you just need a 9mm Painkiller, or a love hug from a rope handily tied to your light.

What Thump has learned: Homosexuality will eventually die out because all the fags do for us is give us (and their fucking huge family) food, therefore they are just a fad of modern lifestyle.

Vista? (20/10/07)

2007-10-25T22:05:00.000+01:00

I began using Vista the other day and I've gotta say... I actually like it! I was going to post a Vista related article when I installed it but I decided to give it more than a couple of hours usage to fuck itself up. I basically knew at some point or another my C: drive would be formatted because of a Vista related problem which is why I pulled out all of my Windows disks (Windows 95, 98, 2000 [Pro, Server, Adv. Server], XP [Home Retail, Home OEM, Home Upgrade, Pro Retail, Pro OEM, Pro Corp, Pro Upgrade, Media Center]... and more) and decided to go ahead and install.

Now, just a quick overview because I'm really not in the mood for typing.

-Visual

Visually this version of Windows is so fucking sleek. The functionality of OS X with hints of Linux (Mint, mainly) thrown in here and there. People have said this is a bad thing, but for a Linux fan like myself, this is by far the best idea Windows has came out with for a long time.

-Useability (Is that even a word?)

It's very easy to use, and very easy to adapt to. I got immediately used to it and it took just over a day to adapt from the transition between XP and Vista (Slight changes have made an impact), now everytime I use an XP (or lower) based system, it feels wierd. Seriously, I keep clicking the 'programs list' expecting it to come up in the start menu (Think of Linux Mint only a bit more advanced). Again, a simple change that takes you back a little from XP... it comes quite unexpected, to be honest. But on the same note, it reminds you just how easy it was to get XP cluttered up (not saying this will be any different, of course, but that's yet to come for me). The 'gadgets' (They're fucking Widgets. The idea was ripped straight from the OS X kernel and recoded for Windows) are pretty handy too, but it has a tendency to get annoying after a couple of hours (unless you have the right gadgets installed).

-Speed

Vista outpaces XP on almost any machine. Some of you might know that I run a pretty low end system (1.60Ghz CPU, 512MB RAM, 20GB Master, 60GB Slave, 80GB Slave) and Vista still runs better than XP did! I had written Vista off the same way as I wrote Beryl off for Linux (With Beryl I was fucking right, though), meaningless eye candy and transparancy effects which lead to ridiculous amounts of CPU/Memory usage... but even then, my CPU regularly meets with the 100% bar on my "CPU Usage" gadget, and Vista doesn't even flinch! Which brings me onto the topic of...

-Memory Usage

Vista DOES use a lot of resources, yes, but only in the same way an ethiopian digests a McDonalds 'meal'. Unless you're running less than 1Ghz, your computer is probably going to struggle unless of course your RAM is pretty weighty. If you have a lot of RAM, you might have a bit of stuttering, but apart from that it'll probably run fine. It's most definately not a case of "The reccomended specs are what you NEED". It's actually quite versatile (Not as versatile as say... a Valve game, but versatile all the same). The page/swap file works like a fucking dream too. I haven't YET had any lag! Even when a program stops responding, you can still fuck around on anything else instead of having it sitting on your screen until Windows decides to close it down (as is the case with XP).

-Gaming

I've read a couple of different problems with Gaming on Vista, but I've always assumed that it's due to the system specs/hardware errors. Well, I played Portal and HL2 Episode 1 on my computer and hey, guess what? Runs fine. Perhaps I gain a few jagged edges (on occassion) and sometimes it takes a minute or so to load up a level... but that's it. In fact, on Portal the reflective mats actually became reflective on Vista! I gained graphics! I know, sounds insane, but it happened. I checked all my settings and they all came back exactly the same. No effect on my games.

-Useability (Seriously, is that even a word?) Part 2

There is a couple of SERIOUS problems I have with Vista, though. For example, the "User Account Control" which actually prompted me (the only user on this computer making me by default the system admin) to prove my administrative rights to enter My Documents. I found a program called "Vispa" which is a tweak, basically... it let me turn it off! Only to have it come back with a vengence a couple of days later. "Do you really want to open this .exe file you found in your download folder? I mean, it could be anything! Malware? Y'know, Windows Defender would help with that. WD will defend against malware, you should activate it. Oh, and you should activate automatic updates. You don't need your remaining 6GB of space... give it to Windows. Go on.". That is what I feel it's asking me whenever I open something. In fact it actually just comes up "Would you like to open this file?" while using a black filter on the screen and having a single prompt in the center of the screen. Doesn't sound like much, but it's annoying after ten minutes.

Another problem is another annoying one. My Caps Lock key keeps getting stuck. Now, I use shift for almost everything nowadays, but there still comes a time when I need to/randomly hit the Caps Lock key, and when I do it usually gets stuck... and it takes about six or seven jabs at it to get it off again. Yeah, it gets annoying, but it seems to be random. It isn't every time I turn Caps on.

-Overall

I think that Vista is the best Windows to come out (so far, at least). It seems sturdy and reliable, and may in fact be (though it has a long way to prove itself).

Get it and find out for yourself. I don't think you'll be disapointed.

UPDATE:

The sticky caps key problem? Yeah, not a problem with Vista at all. Turns out that my keyboard had been dropped at some point (It basically lives on the floor. Especially when I'm composing) and the casing had came apart on the right side of the keyboard, slight enough for me not to notice it. This problem was fixed by me picking up the keyboard and hearing a click.

That's right. I'm damn technical.

Pipex? Pipex?! PIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEX?! (17/10/07)

2007-10-25T22:04:00.000+01:00

So, a lot of you might know that I got my internet back in the form of Pipex, now, when I told people about this a lot of them laughed. Hard. Why did they laugh? It's an ISP that is giving me 8mb DSL at a reasonable price!

...Or so I thought.

First couple of days we were connected with them, my 8mb connection fucking owned! Awesome, sexy fast downloads... and then one day my soundcard said "lol no" and my XP blue screened the fuck out of me. "Never worry," I said, "I'll change ports and it'll work great!". And work it did! However, when I restarted the computer I connected at 7.5mb... strange, right? Not to be deterred I continued using it for a good month or two, watching as my speed dwindled to 4mb (it usually was levelled at around 5... but I was paying for 8mb, dammit!) and as Pipex raided our bank account (£100 in a month) when they felt like it.

It came to a point where we had given up with Pipex, we were sick of being ripped the fuck off by them... so we searched for different ISPs. Remember, we live in a non-cable area, so Virgin seemed out of the question. We went through so many different ISPs (and discovered Pipex was part of the Tiscali service... which failed because we were looking at Tiscali to take over our ISP), looking at places that charged well over £100 for home broadband services... lulz.

Finally I said "Fuck it, Virgin has non cable, we'll win with Virgin!".

As usual, we waited for an activation date... which we assumed would come by post, instead, it came through via email about 45 minutes later! "Holy fuck!" Thought I, as my penis jiggled with sheer delight! If they're this quick on the activation, I'm certain they'll be quick when it comes to sending out the modem and disk!

No.

When Pipex finally shut down our ISP and our Virgin equpment had still not arrived... I had a brainwave! "We're using a Wireless Router... all we need is the server information and I can manually input it into the router!"... this is around the time we phoned tech support.

I set up our router to Virgin Media (Just basic set up, gave it our username and password, told it we were on Virgin etc.) and it worked... up until Google, at least. It felt great to search Google. Going through all the cache's... man, words can't describe how jiggly my penis got when I looked through all those cache's... damn. But the second I tried to connect to anything other than google? I recieved Firefox's "could not connect to server" page. Great.

So! We phoned tech support! Now, I'll give you a run down of the tech support now, as there are many branches: Virgin Cable, Virgin Non-Cable (Dial Up), Virgin Non-Cable (Broadband) and many, MANY others (Google is your friend). Now, as with all automated services, it was probably the most unhelpful piece of shit concieved by man. Virgin Cable had us on their database and directed us to the generic Non-Cable support which then referred us to a premium rate number (which didn't actually cost that much at all) which was a branch of the Dial-Up service who had us on their database and thusly directed us to the generic Non-Cable BROADBAND support!

Yeah, you guessed it, they didn't have us on their database.

"You'll recieve your modem and installation disk in one to two days!" and that was it! They hung the fuck up! So now I'm getting rather annoyed and decided to phone back for the IP and DNS information... which they gave us, quite happily! But did they help us? Of course they fucking didn't, they wanted us to fucking wait! "Well, what you're talking about is possible, actually. But I've never had a request like this over the phone, I'll direct you to the NC Broadband service now."... wonderful.

Tech: "Hello, Virgin Non-Cable Broadband technical Support, Steve here, how may I help you?"
Me: "Yeah, I want the Virgin Media server information."
Tech: "May I ask why?"
Me: "I can manually set up the router in order to connect to the internet."
Tech: "That won't work."
Me: "Yes it will."
Tech: "No, it won't, you will have to wait for the equipment to arrive, goodb--"
Me: "No, listen to me. That CD does nothing an advanced user can't do. I've been using Microsoft since the days of DOS, I know what I'm talking about. All that CD does is create a network connection and give my computer the server information in order to connect to the internet. It also installs the Speedtouch drivers, which is actually pointless as I don't need a modem, we already have a Wireless Router."
Tech: "And what Router are you using?"
Me: "D-Link Wireless G"
Tech: "Oh, you can't do it on that one."
Me: "I beg your pardon?"
Tech: "The D-Link. What you're saying isn't plausable on that router."
Me: "...are you willing to bet your job it isn't possible?"
Tech: "No."
Me: "Well, are you going to help me?"
Tech: "I don't see how I ca--"
Me: "You can give me the information I need."
Tech: "No, I can't."
Me: "...can I ask how you got this job?"
*manic clicking on the other side of the phone*
Me: "...are... are you playnig Solitaire?"
Tech: "...of course not, I'm working."
Me: "Well then why don't you let me help you work by allowing you to give me the information I need?"
Tech: "Because it can't be done!"
Me: "Yes. Yes it can. And I want the information."
Tech: "Even if it could be done, I couldn't give you the information over the phone."
Me: "You're fucking kidding me right?"
Tech: "I'm not going to respond to foul language."
Me: "Fuck foul language, you can't give me ISP and DNS information over the phone?"
Tech: "No, I can't."
Me: "Alright, then. Can I ask if your server runs on a Linux system?"
Tech: "Yes, it does."
Me: "Great, you've just given me information that is potentially more dangerous than any IP or DNS address." (Yes, this was a bit of a bluff, but if I mentioned "Hacking" and "Linux" while on the phone, I would have shot myself in the foot)
Tech: "No, I haven't."
Me: "You're beginning to bore me. Either give me the information or put me onto somebody who can."
Tech: "I'm sorry we couldn't help you today, goodbye."

It's now saturday and I'm still waiting for that pretty Virgin Media van to pull up with our equipment.

Fail.

A lot of you fuckers have been emailing me...

2007-09-16T02:15:00.000+01:00

And I've noticed that a lot of you are intrigued as to where I came up with the name of this blog. Well, it isn't some deep ramblings of my mind, that's for certain. It most certainly isn't an overcomplicated, pseudo-intellectual observation of our worlds culture, nor does it have anything to do with politics... so where did it come from, you ask?

Here.

See that? An essay, written by Albert Einstein. As I've stated many times before, this was originally intended as a gaming blog, nothing more. However the end of the first post determined the fate of it. It was actually originally called "Memoirs of the Golden Games" or some homoerotic shit like that.

Shortly after making that first post and giggling at almost anything (it was getting late at this point), I came across that essay and then decided to create a semi-parody of a great work.

Then that idea went out the window and the shitstorm you see before your eyes today came about. This blog is, in general, random as hell. For no reason, really. It's random because it be. It's random because I can be, no other purpose. Sure, I thought of doing parodies of the regular emo blog, but like that shit hasn't been done before, and besides; I lack the comedy for parody writing.

I'm lazy, so I'm not writing anymore. Fuck off.

"I don't care, I'd still fuck Britney Spears" has been removed.

2007-09-12T18:55:00.001+01:00

Because of this idiot, I deleted the post, draft and even the comments from that idiot troll.

To the troll: I'm very sorry, I hope you feel it necessary to reply to another of my posts to enlarge your e-penis. I mean, shit, I could do with a laugh (And if you are from b0g, you can only be one of two people).

Blind Guardian... again.

2007-09-10T01:29:00.000+01:00

So, some of you will remember my 'Thump "does" London' post. Well, fortunately for you fuckers, I got curious while searching for stage techniques and came across this. If you don't want to click, that's entirely up to you, but for the curious it is a couple of recordings of the gig on YouTube. Sadly, most (if not all) of them were all filmed on camera phone, but it still fucking rocks... because it's Blind Guardian.

And yes, Lisa, it does include "The Bards Song (In the Forest)" where I will happily admit that I cried during.

1. Click second link.
2. Click the first link on the YouTube page.
3. Click "Back" on your browser.
4. Click second link on YouTube page.
5. Continue until all links have been exhausted and you are envious of me.

But right now you need to GOGOGO!

So, the new educational year has began.

2007-09-09T19:20:00.000+01:00

Yes, that's right! I'm back at college! A new year, new people, new faces... new idiots. So, the Intermediate Music Program was split into two groups simply because there is too many people. So, after being split into group 1 and 2, we were then split into bands. Great!

Not really...

We were split into groups dependant on our taste in music, the metalheads in one group, pop-rockers in another, grunge/classical rock in another and of course, then comes the Techies... which is basically just electronic music. I don't get it, I'm a metalhead and I can't play with the synths? Bullshit.

Anyways, the metalheads ended up with two drummers, three guitarists and two vocalists. However I've decided to drop the guitar and move up to just vocals... because the other girl can't sing at all... at least not the songs we've chosen. You want to know what songs we've chosen? I'll split this into hardcore songs (Songs I chose) and non-hardcore songs (Songs I just agreed with to keep peace).

Hardcore Songs

1. Buckethead - Power Rangers Theme

I only chose this because it was the PR theme and everybody knows it rocks harder then rock. I did not want it because Buckethead wrote it.

2. Motley Crue - Home Sweet Home

Because it fucking rocks.

Non-Hardcore Songs

1. Pantera - Cemetary Gates

Meh, like the song, but don't want to fuck it up.

2. Metallica - Creeping Death

Eh...

So yeah, that's the list. Not sure how I'm going to sing Power Rangers without bursting into hysterics, though. I'm looking forward to Motley Crue, love the song and it's right within my range... but the other two? Eh. Pantera I like (as I said), but shit... I don't want to pull a LaBrie on it.

Let's just not talk about Metallica, if that's alright by you... I really don't want to depress myself.

Yeah, I can't be bothered to type up anymore so fuck the punchline.

Moral: Wishful thinking can be harmful.

Wow, people genuinly can be nice... (10/08/07)

2007-08-26T09:57:00.000+01:00

I've lived by the rule of people being arseholes for the best part of my teenage life, and for the most part I still believe I'm right.

Today is saturday... technically sunday, but I'm still working from yesterday's clock. My cousin phoned me and asked me if I wanted to go out, my girlfriend allowed me to drink (despite my giving up alcohol... nothing like support, is there?) and off I went! I've only had a couple of pints, therefore I'm still sober, however I'm drunk enough not to actually give a shit.

I met my cousin at Haymarket metro station, went along to Luckies bar and proceeded to have a glass of double vodka and red... something or other, I don't remember, my memory has always been a crock of shit. Anyways, I had, what they called John Smiths (though it tasted more like lager) and proceeded to go and meet a friend of a friend in the notorious Bigg Market of Newcastle Upon Tyne. Now, I shaved my head and religously wear my Leather Jacket, therefore I look quite scary.

New paragraph.

However! A certain fat fuck of a bouncer didn't seem to think so! He asked my friend for identification, proving he was of legal age to drink (Please note: He was in perfect hearing range of me when I said "You go and get Tim, Me, Dom and Swalesy will stay out here."), and my friend (Bailey) gave him such identification! Apparantly, 18 years of age (the legal age of alcohol consumption in Britain) was not good enough in a bar that only allowed 'over 21's'.

This annoyed me, but I cared a lot less as Bailey attempted to phone Tim.

Remember, I had no intention at all of going into this shitty nightclub. Even for the Bigg Market, it was a heap of shit.

I stood talking to Dom and Swalesy for a bit and suddenly a bouncer (A fat fucker) decided that he didn't like 'the cut of my jip', as it were, and decided to engorge in an argument with me! According to him, I was flailing my arms around in the air while calling his good friend (the skinny fucker) every bad thing ever to exist under the sun.

At the time, we were actually talking about Tim hurrying up so we could top up our alcohol-blood levels.

Anyway, he asked me if I would enjoy a swing at him (For all of those who don't quite understand English slang, that is "If I would enjoy to punch him."), I admitted that I would love to, if only he would walk around the back of the pub with me.

You should know by now I have little to no respect for bouncers (See "I admit it, DragonForce really is a good band." in... February?), and this fucker was exactly the same. He backed down until I walked away... then he opened his mouth again. I turned and told him (in as many words) to 'Fuck off'. He took the hint and said not a word.

Nothing much happened until we left a bar called Trillians, assuming to get into a club called 'Krash', or 'The Venue'.

REMEMBER! If they put the stamp on your hand, you're as good as in!

I've never had an issue with getting into Krash... ever! I first went when I was like, 15! I had a skinhead then (as I do now, the hair is long gone) and they let me in, now? I'm too young!

I gave the fuckers my Student I.D! Not valid.

I gave them my birth certificate! Not valid.

To prove my name, I gave a recent bank statement! Still did not prove I was 18.

... what the fuck?

I asked them to phone the police! Oh no, they couldn't do that.

REMEMBER! My hand was already stamped at this point, they stamped my hand and THEN asked for I.D!

Oh!

ALSO REMEMBER! They have my C.V (Resumé) as I'm currently seeking employment... they couldn't deny the fact I was 18!

Anyway, under the assumption that the stamp granted access, I entered... to be punched by the bouncer.

What did I do? I hit the fucker back, is what I did! The arsehole knows me and he still denied me access! After a swift kick in the balls, my steel capped boots proved the betters of him and he went down like a bag of shit in a very high gravitational enviroment.

Motherfucker start shit with me, I'll kill him!

My dad (who joined us at Trillians) naturally kicked off as he had paid the both of us in (Granted, they gave him the money back, but still, I was assaulted by a QUALIFIED BOUNCER!). I phoned Dom off my dads phone to tell him that I'd had a bit of an argument with the bouncer and that I'd gone home. On the way to the Taxi Rank me and my father met a pisshead!

As it happens a rather nice and genuine pisshead.

Anyway, my dad started talking to him and I soon followed suit. He was pissed off after being attacked by a bunch of students (coming out of the only student bar that isn't built into a college/university), and having his shirt ripped off in the fray. I naturally pittied him and even offered my own shirt off my own back for him to save him walking about without... well, anything on top, really.

After about 15 minutes my dad went to order a taxi as this guy (Rob, his name was) showed me his tattoo's. One for each of his two daughters, one for his woman and one for his aunty. The only reason I began writing this entry is because of this guy, he really sobered me up.

I believe tattoo's to be a tribal and almost spiritual thing, which is why I've not had one yet (despite the opportunities to get them done). The one tat I've really wanted in a long time is Mjollnir (Thor's Hammer) on my left breast (on my heart, which is to prove my devotion to Odinism) and this guy had the tat for is aunty (by far the most grand and, quite literally, beautiful) on his left breast.

Story is, his mother was a bit of a bitch (like 70% of women) and he ended up closer to his aunty than he really should have been. I understood this as for a long time I've felt it was easier to talk to my Nanna than my mother... don't ask me why. Anyway, they always said that they would always get married (assumably a joke... otherwise it was just nasty...) and he was asked (by his cousin's) to be a Pall (sp?) Bearer at his aunt's funeral... she had, at this point, died of cancer... something nobody should ever have to go through.

He agreed and couldn't remember anything about that funeral... simply because he was saying to himself over and over again; "I always thought I'd take you down the aisle... but never in this way...". I hate to say it but tears stung my eyes. I don't think I've ever had an issue with death but him saying this to me reminding me of my Grandma's death. She died of cancer and (though young) it brought all those memories back to me. Watching her lie in her bed (which was brought downstairs, into the living room) with (what I now know as) the death rattle shaking her body.

At the time, I just wanted her to cough... I thought it was a symptom of a phlegmy throat.

I remembered vividly her last words to me, which was quite simply, "I love you, be successful."... shit, at that age, I didn't even know what that meant! Success? Just another word I had to look up. I was certain no tears leaked down my cheeks, but it was enough to make me feel it.

Anyway, it ended up in him taking my hand and putting it on his tattoo (On the left breast, for his aunty). To me that meant more than anything I'd ever wanted. That was true acceptance. By placing my hand on that tattoo that meant the memory of his aunt, his two daughters (which he actually said) and most of all his heart.

As homosexual as this sounds, it's actually very deep and meaningful.

The word 'gay' meant nothing at that point in time. His heart was marked by ink, and my hand was on it... I don't care what anybody says, that was a beautiful moment. To be able to meet somebody so pure as to be able to do and understand what he did to me takes a lot of time and effort. He was a true person and a person who would accept anybody if they proved themselves to him. He is somebody all should want to be like.

Nobody in this world is important until they understand the value of human life, you aren't any better than me (of course I'm better than you, but shit! I'm fucking Thump!) and you aren't any better than anybody else, be yourself and take people for what they are. If they're arseholes, kick their fucking arse in the name of truth. If they're genuine, savour them... you won't meet many of those people in your lifetime.

Just think about that before your emails come flooding at me.

If you don't make rock music, you aren't really a rock star! (11/07/07)

2007-08-26T09:56:00.004+01:00

I'm sick to death of people calling the likes of Amy Whinehouse, Pete Doherty, Robbie Williams, Towers of London, Busted, McFly and other such cock jockeys being called 'rock stars'. Rock star's are the likes of the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Deep Purple, Rush, The Beatles, Elvis, Johnny Cash... y'know, people who had talent! Taking drugs and being idiots don't make you rock stars.

Especially not when you look like Amy Whinehouse (I am in no way saying that Keith Richards is good looking but shit, she is a fucking dog...).

Come on, she appeared on a gameshow (Never Mind the Buzzcocks) and spat on the stage... that isn't being a rebel, that's just being a general twat. Robbie Williams walked into a nightclub in Newcastle (on our infamous Quayside), a club named 'Sea'. Anyway, my Uncle was working on the doors (he's a bouncer... and a fucking big one at that) and had to throw the fucker out because he came in, sat down, ordered a drink (Whiskey or some shit, I don't know) and knocked up a big ol' line of coke on the counter.

And Lilly Allen will never be a rock star no matter how many Synths she might think look professional. Remember, no matter how awesome a Moog might look on your stage, you will never be able to play it in the same way that Rush or Pink Floyd could. You're making Mr. Moog himself cry and turn in his grave. Oh, and if you're a session musician (or in the band) of one of these so-called 'rock stars', you really aren't a musician. You're a twat.

And if you're British? And you do this whole 'accent rap'... which I think is actually a destruction of the Brummy (Birmingham, for anybody who doesn't know the Limey accent borders) accent. It's quite scary, seriously. "Bat oi fink yor mayt is mach fittar!"... actual lyrics, don't actually know who sang them, don't really care!

You see, Lilly Allen can vaguely pull it off. Why? Because (I'm still slightly unsure, but I think) that she can actually sing... that's about it. I still think her head should be entered into a cement mixer and held there until it sets.

If you happen to be one of the 'rock stars' of today, and you take drugs? Keep taking them until your body gives in. If you aren't? Just kill yourself.

I apologise on behalf of every British man, woman or child for Americas new immigrants and my Girlfriend is better than yours (27/07/06)

2007-08-26T09:56:00.003+01:00

(Part 1)

I'm serious... I thought we had it rough when Jade Goody somehow won Big Brother and became the media's favourite walking Kebab, but then the Beckhams moved to Barcelona... no problem there, then. We got rid of the fucker, only to hear about Mr. Beckham during the World Cup and his occassional instance on the back page because he had scored a penalty (about fucking time) for his foreign team.

Then they moved to America.

Suddenly every British newspaper was flooded with "Beckhams' move to L.A!", "Posh is hounded with press over move!" and other such bollocks. Now, usually I only buy newspapers for the crossword (unless it's The People. Every Sunday they have a fact sheet about random things that I think is just wonderful! ...now they need a crossword), but it's really difficult not to get into the hype, y'know?

I mean seriously, who can resist "Posh buys blow up sex doll and fools press with it!".

Because the 'press' obviously weren't paid actors, now were they? How can you mistake a blow up sex doll with Victoria Beckham? For one thing, the doll has more fat on it.

The giveaway for me was when the body guards were seen indecently groping Mrs. Beckham as they helped her along on the street... y'know, because blow up sex dolls can't walk. Although it was funny when the American Officials wouldn't let a paid actor work for the DMV... now you can get a real taste of Americana! Now, all I know about the DMV is that it's the American equivilent to the DVLA... which gladly isn't as bad as half the stories I've heard from a lot of Americans.

Apparantly, if you go to the DMV you might as well bring the family for a picnic. Don't let yourself count the hours, though! You don't want to admit to spending 15 hours with your divorced wife and bastard child!

Anyway, watching Victoria run around the counter to look at the picture (that she fucking pouted for... it's a fucking driving licence!) and asked if she could have it taken again? Pure comical genius, let me tell you. "Erm, ma'am? This is the DMV... I don't actually have the time to retake your photo, nor do I have the time for anyone else.". Classic.

Even funnier than that, was when she was pulled over. "It was terrible!" She says, wiping the vomit from her chin, "I didn't know whether to cry or pose!" ...personally, I would have took his gun and shot him in the head for being such a feckless idiot and for not having a fucking clue about life in the real world. To make matters worse, so many idiots in America want to be like her... I mean, fuck me... seriously... like that?!

Please... PLEASE don't become like her.

Ever.

It's just not fair on your friends or families... seriously.

But the funniest thing about all this? You can't accept David Beckham into your country... he's annoying enough, I know... but if you take him in? You have to take a skinny has been popstar in too! What a great deal! Get a metrosexual footballer and a skinny annoying cow as well!

Yay!

Don't get me wrong, now. I would fuck Victoria Beckham... but only to stick my fingers up her arse and wipe her excretion (provided she eats enough to be processed into shit) all over her face. Then? Then I would dye her hair bright blue, with permanent dye, you understand - leaving her with no choice but to leave her dye in, let it grow out naturally or shave it off.

I love my brain.

I really don't have much against David Beckham besides the fact that I want him dead... and I only want him dead because I really don't like the guy. He's just got one of those faces you want to smash against a brick wall... and he married an idiot like Victoria Beckham.

I'll leave this section with a quote from (possibly) the most annoying person in the world.

"It's so exhausting being fabulous."

Try it once in a while, love. You'll feel better for it.

(Part 2)

My girlfriend really does >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Yours. Why? As part of our one year anniversary present, you know what she bought me? Prince of Persia the Sands of Time, a game that infuriated me because it wouldn't work on my computer, now it infuriates me because I can't do the bastard game, Broken Sword 1 & 2, because I never played either of them with video/speech... and I've never quite completed BS2 because my version was fucked and didn't include the last level.

And the best of all.

*Drum roll*

Sonic Mega Collection Plus!

Fuck me! How I love revisiting the best part of my youth, and how better to do it than with Sonic?! I forgot quite how good of a platformer this game was right after Sega killed him off by making him three dimensional (in men, that's supposed to be a good thing (See Mario), in hedgehogs? ...it's not so great) and then gave Shadow a game... great. Shadow the Hedgehog was probably the final nail in Sega's coffin.

All the PSO in the world won't save them after that abomination.

The best part about SMCP? It has the Game Gear games on it! Sonic Chaos, I'm coming for you!

Then... then I remembered how difficult Sonic is without a controller... then I remembered how easy it is to hate Sonic... especially after I first heard that terrifying melody... the drowning theme... in only the second level. Chemical Plant Zone act 2... and I heard it. I lost my two of my lives out of sheer panic. Then Dr. Robotnik (IT IS NOT EGGMAN, IT WILL NEVER BE EGGMAN, STOP CALLING HIM EGGMAN) terrified me with a boss fight WITH water... and then I had a psychotic episode when I realised what was the third level.

Aqua Ruins Zone.

For the idiots among you, Aqua is also known as "water", in Sonic the Hedgehog, the word "water" is also known as "a terrifying, ungodly death".

Then what happened? I remembered you can't save. I don't even remember if you have a password option after X amount of levels completed (I actually know you don't, but I'm too scared to admit it to myself).

So, I'm going to go and play some Sonic.

Enjoy yourself!

(Part 3: Bonus Section)

I'm getting the intarwebs back. I've turned 18. I'm getting it out in my name as my parents pay the bill. I fucking win.

Now, I'm going to go and play some Sonic.

Enjoy yourself!

That's right, I forgot I hated people. (25/07/07)

2007-08-26T09:55:00.001+01:00

So, I got a phone call off of Briggsy, right? Y'know, the guy who I wrote about one entry ago? Anyway, he said "Dude, party at mine! B.Y.O.B! Bring Alex! Oh, it's fancy dress!" right? Now, as you all know, I'm a borderline alcoholic as it is, however what you may not know is my hatred for humanity... well, the alcohol has killed enough braincells to get rid of that hatred.

Now, I had twenty pounds which doesn't go very far when it comes to buying alcohol... unless you're buying from Netto, or (as I chose) out of date beer. Eight cans of Murphys Stout, I was also drinking on Pro Plus (which as I learned is a bad idea). Now, a drunken Viking is to be expected. A drunken Christian, however... that's just damn funny. Even funnier is when said drunken Christian is arrested for none other than - believe it or not - drunken disorderly.

Anyway, nothing much happened apart from me explaining toungue piercings to Briggsy's girlfriend (Teigan), and having a theological debate with a woman (She was Buddhist) about why Odinism > All. I don't actually remember much of that. I remember almost throwing up as I took a shot of Tequila covered in salt... and tasted salt for the next hour and a half (how I wasn't sick is beyond me, all I know is that I really disliked salty Tequila, smokes and stout).

Anyway, somebody threw the fuck up all over the nice clean beige carpet... which I actually found quite funny... mainly because for once it wasn't me! Oh, the drunken Christian blew the lightbulb in the living room by smashing the Guitar Hero guitar off it... unintentionally of course.

Funniest thing of all was when my girlfriend wanted to go to the 24 hour garage. This was when the serious fun kicked off. She was upstairs for some reason or another and wanted me upstairs, so I went up like an obedient little drunken monkey. I asked for a hug before she went and she (jokingly) said "No, I don't want to hug you!", naturally I retorted with "Give me a fucking hug, woman!" only to have some little fucktard (who was standing behind me) shout "Don't you fucking dare talk to a woman like that!".

Does this motherfucker understand the meaning of that rare, but beautiful word: "Joke"? Alex actually laughed and gave me a hug and kiss about a second before this fucker said that shit to me. Naturally, I turned around and said: "I very much beg your fucking pardon? You're telling me not to have a joke with my girlfriend?", he realised that he had in fact made a mistake and apologised... for the moment. Just as well, really. There was an open window with a rather nice drop directly behind him.

More shit went on in the night and I challenged some girl to disprove the fact that she was skinnier than me. She laughed at my remark and immediately set out to become the skinnier of the two skinny fuckers. Alex (whom was on the other side of the room) said something about a 28 inch waist being a size 10 in womans clothing. I turned to her, raised my voice so she could hear me over the din of the party and said "Okay babe, thank you, now shush!" again, it was said in a humerous tone.

Again... "I fucking told you once before, don't you fucking dare talk to a woman like that!". This time? I fucking snapped. I had enough to drink to not care about what trouble I got into, but I hadn't had enough not to care about what trouble Briggs gets into. You can't explain away dried blood on a beige carpet, now can you?

"And I've fucking told you once before, don't you fucking dare talk to me like that! If I had fucking tits and a cunt you wouldn't talk to me like that, because in your eyes, if you have tits and a fucking cunt you're a perfect fucking being!". By this point the people who knew me realised I was about to grab this fucker by the throat and smash his face against my fist. They knew I meant buisness.

It's also worth noting that Alex had mysteriously dissapeared when this kicked off.

"You don't raise your voice to a woman!"

"You don't raise your fucking voice to me, dipshit. Take a fucking walk with me, I'll show you who the fuck you're dealing with."

By this point, I was the bastard, almost everybody at that party thought me some kind of wife beater... which I'm not. I've grown up with that shit and I'm not going to fucking do what I've been afraid of all my life, am I?

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" said the homosexual.

"Everything you could ever dream to be, now talk to me with a bit of fucking respect or I'll rip your fucking throat out."

By this point a metrosexual barman who could only get a job in Ibiza had jumped in front of me. A bouncer got hold of the other guy and basically demanded he shut the fuck up before I got hold of him, because if I did, I would kill him.

Sadly this fucker made the biggest mistake and basically everybody began shouting abuse at me about how I was out of order. Now, I'm sorry, but nobody deserves to feel the way I did. It was possibly the biggest mind fuck I've been in. I seriously felt like I was about 2 foot tall, not a nice place to be. I explained my place to the Ibizan Superman who wouldn't even make eye contact with me (please remember, he's English, but he can't get a job in Britain because he's an arsehole, basically).

I grabbed my shit, turned to Paddy, said I was going. He grabbed my coat and told me to ignore them and stay, he knew to let go when I said that the fucker over there is going to get strung up by his testicles and slowly disembowled with the bluntest object I can find. I said goodbye to Jacko and just as I heard "You're a fucking arsehole, I'm taking that woman from you!" I saw red. I didn't hit out at him for some reason... I think I was taken aback so much that I couldn't actually do anything. I took a couple of steps forward and said "Your time will come, and your final breath will be taken by me. It might not be now, it might not be tomorrow, but I can assure you that I'll show you pain like you've never felt before if you so much as touch my woman. You've just made your fucking funeral arrangements.".

I turned and walked... I've no idea why... I just walked. I didn't stop walking, with exception to punching the walls and garden fences (I've took my entire right arm out of action due to that). I can't even count the amount of fences I put holes in... but by the pain in my arms and state of my knuckles, I don't actually want to know.

I walked... from sunny Shiremoor to Wallsend (a good eleven or twelve mile at least) which is where I found a friend who gave me a lift to Walkergate... I then walked back from there.

I remember hearing Briggs shout my name, but he knows better than most to leave me be when I'm that pissed off. I apologise for any shit I caused you, Briggs, but that fucker needed to keep his nose out of my buisness and as I said, I wasn't going to make matters worse by disrespecting your house.

Why am I writing about this? Because of the idiocy in so many people. If you have breasts, you're just as flawed as a man. You aren't perfect, nothing is perfect. It has now been proven that woman are as equal if not more promiscuous than men. This annoys me to hell and back because I've been on the receiving end of cheating whores... however now? I think these idiotic men who think that a bad word should not be said about females should be lined up and shot. This bastard caused a huge fucking argument between me and Alex and everybody else.

If you ever read this? You are a dead man. I will fucking kill you regardless of what you say or do. You crossed the fucking line and if you come over to my side, you're signing your own death certificate. I will take your final breath. Chivalry is dead, it was never alive. It's simply a romantisised idea and for choosing such a stupid fucking stance, I'll kill you on general principle.

Moral of the story: If you have tits you're only perfect in the eyes of idiots. So do me a favour and kill them before I get hold of them.

This smoking ban sucks... (14/07/07)

2007-08-26T09:51:00.000+01:00

Please note: Please remember, I am a drunk. At the time of this being wrote, I am drunk. Please keep this in mind as I rape the English language numerous times during this (quite short) entry.

Seriously. This is horrible... for the first time since the smoking ban, I went out for a drink... and admittedly has both its ups and downs. Allow me to describe this in two easy ways:

A- You drink quicker in order to have a smoke quicker, therefore you get drunk quicker.

B- You can't smoke while having a quiet pint.

Though I am more drunk after three pints than I think I ever have been... I only had three smokes (I really can't spell the correct word for it now, as I can't quite remember if it's double 'g' or 't'... so fuck you.) and drank three pints in about 45 minutes.

I beg of you Mr. Gordon Brown, please recall the smoking ban... I will do any sexual act you wish... please?

Drunks. (30/06/07)

2007-07-02T11:09:00.001+01:00

Though I know I have little right to talk about alcohol abuse (I'm probably the biggest binge drinker in Newcastle), I've only just realised how big the problem is. It's actually quite terrifying how much people can drink (and how much people think they can drink), and it's even more terrifying to see the effects. Now, don't get me wrong, like I said before I enjoy a hefty drink now and again... but holy shit, in the past couple of nights I've been terrified by what I've seen.

At college, the course leader arranged an after show party for the students to essentially get rat arsed after a show well done! The Performing Arts students followed the course leader to where he held it (a pub called the Salsa Café), the Music students had other ideas. We went for a drink or two at the Salsa Café and we had decided to bugar off to a cheaper pub. Turns out that pub was shit and after my friends pulled me away from what was about to be a fight we headed home.

No, that's wrong, because we only went home to wait for a certain somebody to fuck off. We went clubbing.

After drinking... I don't know how many Red Pigs (Quite nice, surprisingly. It's a kind of alco-pop/caffiene drink mixture. Like a strawberry flavoured Red Bull... very high sugar content too. My teeth were melting the next morning) and half a fight later (nothing to do with me, I was the one helping break it up and calm a female down... and no, I didn't fuck her) we called it a night. We went back to Briggsies to help him finish his 60 bottles of Budweiser. I'm not too fond of Lager (what the Americans call 'beer') and to cut a long story short, I remember... about 30 minutes of getting back to Briggsies. In chronological order (or not) I'll tell you what I think happened.

1. We get back to Briggsies house after talking a rather nice Taxi driver into going a fair few miles for £14.60. Briggsy didn't have his key so we had to knock his step dad up.

2. I found Briggsies guitar.

3. Paddy needed to go to sleep, as did Alex. Alex had work in the morning, Paddy just couldn't drink.

4. Me and Briggs hit the drink and talk to a girl called "Teigan" on MSN. Don't tell anybody but Briggsy wants to fuck her senseless.

5. We download Gogol Bordello's album in order to judge whether or not it was worth buying. I would love to tell you whether it is or not, but we don't actually know where it was downloaded to. Waste of time, really.

6. We have a smoke. Briggsy shows me where abouts we need to put our cigarette dumps, and we smoke. I sit on Briggsies dirt bike. Zehr comfortable.

7. We drink more. Listen to some Saxon and check up on Alex and Paddy (this may have happened earlier in the night... I think before listening to Saxon and before even considering smoking). I give Alex a cuddle and a kiss as Briggsy climbs into bed with Paddy and tells him how much he loves him. He may have tried to rape him, though I'm not entirely sure.

8. I drink more than Briggs and demand he catches up.

9. We have another smoke and somehow end up talking about how he wants to fuck somebody on his bike. Though not sure how, I end up with my legs wrapped around him... he may have been demonstrating, but I can assure you he didn't fuck me. My trousers were up and I was not imitating John Wayne in the morning. I also remember Briggs falling off the bike (stationary, I might add) and for some reason me and him pissing ourselves laughing at something... though I don't remember what... hmm.

10. I ask Briggs if I could have a cup of tea and go outside (presumably to be sick. I was sick twice outside to memory). Briggs asks if I'm okay, I agree and head back in.

11. I forget how hot freshly made tea is and burn my mouth on my first sip. I ask for a bucket or something to throw up in, head upstairs and proceed to throw up in bed. Alex complains.

11 points that I remember, apparantly at about 9am they all tried to wake me up... remember that I started being sick at about 7:30 in the morning and thusly stopped drinking. Now, an hour and a half (I think...) after I went to sleep and these fuckers are trying to wake me up! What in the fuck? I'm still drunk! Leave me to fucking sleep! Briggs actually asked me to wake up... nicely. He has no idea how much I enjoy sleep.

From what Alex and Briggs told me this is what happened (in no particular order... I have no idea what order it is in):

1. Briggsy whispers at me to wake me up (phail).

2. Briggsy pinches my ear (phail).

3. Briggsy shakes me (phail).

4. Presumably somebody holds my nose... (insta-phail, I could probably breath out of my ear if needs be)

5. Somebody slapped me (phail).

6. Briggsy lifted the bed up... described by Alex as 'bicep (sp?) curls' (phail).

7. Paddy reccomends somebody jump on me. (Hint to all. Never do this. You'll see me jump out of bed, throw you through the wall and go back to sleep).

More probably happened, but they are the main things I was told about and laughed about. All I remember of the next morning was Briggsies step dad finding the state I was in funny and asking me to send him Local Hero to his phone.

Two days later and I'm back out drinking. It may be seen as a problem, but I'm just hardcore.

I went out with one idea in mind: To drink as much as I can and then sleep. That's what happened! Mission Accomplished!

The difference between me and other binge drinkers? I don't get violent. Those who do are allergic to alcohol or are just general idiots. So make sure, when you see one to beat them over the head with your idiot stick (the hardest thing you can find or that is within reach. If that happens to be the car your driving, so be it!) and laugh at them.

Now get drunk.

A serious moment, if I may (Part 3). (23/06/07)

2007-07-02T11:00:00.001+01:00

There has been three 'serious' moment installments so far, and one of them really hit me hard. If you don't remember it was because a friend of mine (Who I only ever knew as 'Phonetjah') passed away on my birthday (if memory serves correct). Seeing as I've only just thought of that, it actually upsets me knowing that I celebrated my 18th birthday without so much of a thought about him... looks like I'll be drinking for two tonight.

Yesterday I recieved a phone call from my cousin and recieved some news which has only just sunk in. Somebody I knew on a certain message board passed away on a night out with friends. To what we all know, he was drinking (obviously) and broke out into convulsions. Whether or not he died on the spot or took a while, I don't know, however if it's the latter? I don't want to.

I remember reading his posts and looking up to him on a certain level, he was a funny guy and could win or settle an argument on any condition he willed. I knew him only as "The Zodiac", his real name is "Kyle McMannus". He was 16 and lived in Hartlepool (Just south of Newcastle), a couple of us are planning on going down and putting some flowers and memorabilia on his grave site. It's so sad when I think of how talented he was, he had so many different recordings of his songs (and covers), to think I won't hear his songs again... shit, it hurts.

The even bigger tradgedy to this is that his girlfriend had lost her father (I believe it was) about two month before hand.

I'll update with his memorial page linked shortly, or I may just add him to the affiliates list on the right side of the screen.

R.I.P Zodiac.

Good luck, brother. Valhalla's gates are open ready for your arrival.

NOTE: I only just discovered that Kyle was buried at a Roman Catholic church and that my 'Valhalla' comment may have been offending to him, however I just don't give a shit. I'm Norse and I know he would appreciate that.

Links to anybody who cares to check it out and leave condolences (Please note: This was copied and pasted directly from the message board I spoke of).

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=23148022
Erie Song, I look up his comments and holy shit.

http://comment.myspace.com/Modules/Comments/Pages/ViewComments.aspx?%3ffuseaction=user.viewComments&friendID=23148022
A summary of them, RIP, I miss you, I came to see you today and brought flowers, etc.

http://kyle-matthew-mcmanus.gonetoosoon.co.uk/my_index.php
With the help of some other people found out and confirmed, hes gone :/

I've been meaning to update this for some time but I never found time to get around to it. Now that I know the full story off by heart, we'll discuss this a little better, shall we?

Kyle was not out drinking. In fact, he was playing football with friends when he collapsed due to a brain haemorrhage. I don't know the grisly details, and to be honest I don't particularly care much to know.

We celebrated the year of his death not long ago, and since his death there has been a charity set up by his parents in Kyle's name (website, MySpace) to which my project (The Minstrel) is an active support of. I would greatly appreciate it if you spread word (or even better, donate) of Red Dreams in order to help them along, they are after all a charity group and any help is readily accepted and massively appreciated.

So... updates!

2007-06-21T13:36:00.000+01:00

I've had the updates on my computer for ages but seeing as I've had no access to the internet and my iPod fucked up, and my digital camera decided it didn't need a hard drive anymore... it's been difficult to get them to college to update the blog! Plus I (somehow) forgot the password which made it rather difficult to do anything at all... even if I did have the means to get the .rtf file to college.

Anyway, I finally managed to get it here and had to open another GMail account (Seeing as I couldn't remember my many... many... many GMail passwords... or email addresses come to think of it. So I did! Then what happens? My fucking profile dies! AND THE HIT COUNTER HAS BEEN RESET. BLASPHEMY!

Enjoy.

Headline: Murder Young Girl Killed! (18/06/09)

2007-06-21T13:24:00.002+01:00

I'm sorry, but the tabloids are really starting to get on my fucking tits. And no, before anybody asks, the DT reference in the title has absolutely nothing to do with the rest of this article.

Everybody knows that this Madeline McAnne (Or however it's spelt) girl got kidnapped because of her parents idiocy. "We were regularly checking up on her!" they say. Oh really? Well, not regularly enough, apparently. Idiots. Now really, I empathise with them, I really do. It's sad to see such a gorgeous young girl be taken from her parents, it's a pain I hope I never have to experience and a pain I wish no parent should have to experience but really... just find the little bitch! I'm sick of reading about her!

Every. Fucking. Day.

"Search for Maddie continues!"

Here's an idea... just inform us when she's fucking found! Holy shit! I don't give a fuck anymore! I sat down at college to use the internet one day when I noticed the desktop image had been changed... what to? A picture of Maddie with a big banner saying "Support the search!"... how the fuck can I support the search? What can I actively do to help look for her? They have a perverted Brit helping them (who probably wants a piece of her, the Portugese police force, forces from surrounding countries AND the British Secret Service on their side! I'm a bit out of my depth, no?

Now I've only just realised that the title may actually refer to Maddie but I can assure you that is not intended. It was originally "Headline: Murder Young Girl Got Laid!" but I changed it because "Beyond This Life" came on and I just couldn't help myself (That and this article never intended to go onto the topic of Maddie, but shit, a guys gotta rant! Also the only reason she was mentioned (besides the ranting) was to show how the tabloids leech everything like Blackmore and a good riff (NOTICE: No bad feelings against Blackmore, he's uber)).

Digression.

The thing what's really pissed me off? Y'know that TV show? "The Apprentice"? Well, the British version has a guy named Alan Sugar as the employer, right? He basically gets a fuckload of people and they prove to him that they deserve a place in his buisness (Known to us Vintage Gamers and Computer Geeks alike as "Amstrad"), and they get booted off one by one and so on and so forth. Anyway! One little whore who was on the apprentice happened to be a nymphomaniac and likes to sleep with married men.

Makes for good television, right? Wrong.

I love Alan Sugar, but holy fucking shit, please! She fucked some guy in a field and got in the papers; with pictures of her fucking him! Holy Lord Odin! The amount of times I've been photographed fucking some slut in a field and I didn't get into the fucking news! It wouldn't be as bad if it was a small article on page 4 or something, but no! This is front page news! (This is where the original title was to come into play, you see?)

To make matters even worse today I open up my favourite Sunday newspaper (for the curious, it's The People. Why? It usually has a nice random fact page! I love to be reminded that I am the epitome of useless knowledge and The People is to thank for it!) and what do I see? "HUSBAND STEALER IS AT IT AGAIN: WITH A MAN SHE ALREADY SLEPT WITH!

OH HOLY FUCK! NO! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!

What the fuck is next? "Groom to be got drunk night before wedding!" or perhaps: "Married couple have sex on same night as marriage!".

What makes life worse for the tabloid press and the British citizens? (Here we go again) Reality fuckin' TV.

Seriously! Who the fuck thinks this shit up! I now demand that my idea for a RTV show is put up. Y'know, the one with the impossible tasks and death as the only escape? No? Look through the fucking archives, I'm too lazy to find out what it's called.

The sad thing about RTV is that people still watch it... Sure, I watched it to begin with. I've no problem admitting it... but for fuck sakes, about 10 years after it's conception, Big Brother is still going strong and to make it worse? Certain Newspapers (I won't mention who because I simply just don't remember) have dedicated a fucking pullout to it! A six page booklet to Big bastard Brother! Even worse? I still see that Jade fucking Goody is still in the papers! Fuck!

I think she must be the only person I really hate next to Leonardo DiCaprio. He was the first person in cinematic history (to my knowledge) to have two leading roles in a film. She was the only person to go into the Big Brother 'house' twice... but this time? Her mother came with her! Her gapped toothed, fugly as sin, Benefit Frauding, saggy, old, ignorant, twat-face, rug-munching, comestic surgery...ing mother. Then what happened? The general public (I'm glad to say I wasn't one of them) went out and bought all the newspapers that fronted: "JADE GOODY AND HER RACIST MOTHER ATTACH SHILPA SHETTY TO A WOODEN CROSS AND SET IT ON FIRE AS SHEEPISH HOUSEMATES MASTURBATE OVER THE SCENE!".

Holy fuck! Racism! On a REALITY TELEVISION show of all things! What has the world come to?!

Summary: Maddie, Amstrad Whores, Reality TV, Racism etc.

Summary of Summary: Read the above.

Summary of Summary of Summary: Read it.

Line 6: The Metallion's Choice! (02/06/07)

2007-06-21T13:24:00.001+01:00

Seeing as my birthday is on the anniversary of the Normandy landings (6th of this month) it makes my life rather difficult when it comes to presents... sadly nobody has caught on that when I ask for something, it means that's in fact what I want. What has the Normandy landings have to do with my birthday other than the presents and the simple fact it's the anniversary of the Normandy landings? Nothing, I just wanted you to know that my birthday is the 6th of June.

Now, I managed to get hold of a new distortion pedal! It's a Line 6 Uber Metal pedal! And the sound makes my penis squirt all over the walls!

The guy in the shop told me it was probably the most durable budget pedal ever likely to be built. That I could throw it down the stairs and set the fucker on fire and it would still work.

What an idiot.

Guess what I did when I got home? I played with the pedal. Then set it on fire and threw it down the stairs. Did it feel good? Hell yeah! Does the pedal still work? Surprisingly yes!

Now, if I had tried that with my old pedal (Zoom Multi) I'm certain it would never even attempt to work ever again... let's face it, the fucking thing doesn't work anymore anyway. I've done everything to this Line 6. Took a hammer to it's steel casing, poured propane onto it and 'accidentally' let a match fall onto it, put it into my Boom Box for added Boom, poured a deadly concoction of Sulphuric Acid, Nitric Acid and Liquid Oxygen onto it. What happened?

It got scratched.

Then what happened? I threw it out of my bedroom window.

It got a little more scratched.

Then guess what I did? Go on. Guess!

I ejaculated onto it as a sign of friendship and gratitude for being so fucking hardcore.

The Moral of the Story: Line 6 actually make durable pedals! They last longer than five minutes... which is the average lifespan of a Line 6 amplifier or guitar.

10 Reasons why women must never watch football (04/04/07)

2007-06-21T13:23:00.001+01:00

The complexities of a game where grown men chase a ball up and down a patch of grass have baffled women everywhere. Here are 10 simple reasons as to why women should never attempt to watch or follow the glorious game.

10. The offside rule:

Many-a man have been embarrassed by the woman’s scream of “WHY DID HE STOP HIM? HE WAS CENTIMETERS AWAY FROM THE GOAL AND HIS TEAM WERE OVER ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PITCH! IT’S NOT LIKE HE COULD HAVE PASSED TO ANYONE!”

This is only defeated by “So, how come he can pick the ball up but nobody else can? Why is he so special?”

9. Aggregate scoring:

I have fell victim to this. Trying to explain that ‘each game is played twice and the first score counts’ to a woman is like explaining the theory of relativity to a three year old. Get around this one by explaining it as a 180 minute game.

8. The 'Oh Emm Jee, that player is so sexy!' discussion:

I'm sure we have all felt like bashing our heads against the wall when our girlfriends/casual partners/fuck buddies/skank who buys you drinks begins shouting and screaming about how incredibly sexy the ugliest player on the pitch is. Notice how it's always the opposing team that has the sexy player? Now notice how your friends are looking at you and your girlfriend/casual partner/fuck buddy/skank who buys you drinks.

You're a social leaper.

Pervert.

7. Match of the Day:

This has only happened to me once (fortunately not with my woman at the time) but when it does happen... oh shit, it's terrible. You and your mates are sitting around your living room with a couple of pints, and MotD comes on. Great! You couldn't watch that Manchester Vs. Liverpool match because you were working in a cave! Now at least you can see the highlights! The excitement builds as does your erection. Then the inevitable happens; the woman opens her black abyss (Female translation: mouth).

"Oh my god! Rooney got knocked out by Gerrard in the match this morning too!"

...eugh.

6. The Premiership, Leagues, Divisions and so on:

Have you ever tried to explain why Sunderland got relegated from the Premiership to Division 1 to a woman? If you haven't, you're a lucky man! If you have, I feel your pain. Holy shit, is it really that hard to grasp that the relegated team just didn't play well enough to stay in the Premiership?

Oh wait, we're talking women here. Yes. Yes it is.

5. The 'HE'S FAKING IT!' routine:

If you've ever watched porn with a woman, have you noticed how everytime somebody moans the first words out of the woman's mouth is "SHE'S FAKING! SHE'S NOT REALLY HAVING A MULTIPLE ORGASM!"?

Allow me to take you back to the Germany '06 (For those of you who don't know, I'm talking about the World Cup). The England and Newcastle United (Clever people, Newcastle United supporters. Unlike the Mackam scum.) supporters will vividly remember Michael Owen falling in the opening minutes of the game and being put out of action for almost a year. Now, I was watching it with my girlfriend and suddenly she bursts out "He's fine! He isn't injured, he's just trying to get a free kick!" ...a free kick? From where he was it might have well have been a throw in!

Can somebody explain to me how a professional athlete (Like Owen) can make his leg vibrate with the exact same resonation as a snapping ligament and get carried from the field, to an ambulance and not return to your career for almost a year? The second he went down and the slow motion was played I immediately said "Ligament!", but my girlfriend thought not! He was faking it!

Clever Michael Owen!

4. The extra men on the field:

I don't quite understand this one myself... a lot of women (and I'm being entirely honest and truthful with all you infidels here) don't understand the point of linesmen and hardly understand how the referee gets pretty coloured cards, a whistle and a pen. I just can't explain it to a woman... it's just too... painful. I can't even think about it. You make my brain hurt.

3. The 'Pub Quiz' scenario:

This happened to me at a party a while ago. We were bored waiting for the alcohol to arrive and we decided to play a drinking game! The amount of points we got were relevent to how much we had to drink later on in the night. Naturally, the mens questions were all about cars, guns, penii and football. The womens questions involved shoes, dresses and other such bollocks. One question was simple: How many players in a team can be on the pitch at once.

The women stared blankly. They thought about it and finally answered! "16?"

She had to gargle 16 mouthfuls of male semen just to wash her mouth out. After that? The toilet bleach.

2. The 'Own Goal' cheer:

We all know the disgrace we feel when the woman stands up screaming for the own goal your home team has just 'scored'. I think every woman under the sun has done this at least once. It's like being in a synagogue dressed as Adolf Hitler, especially in Newcastle.

1. 'I support a team at the opposite side of the country!':

I think it's safe to guarantee that every woman does this. I don't know any woman who lives in Newcastle who actually supports Newcastle United (of course those who actually show an interest in football, those who don't just wait for us to win a game because they get a fuck). Manchester... Arsenal... Chelsea... Liverpool... they're just fucking cowards! They wouldn't support Barnet, would they? Of course not! Why wouldn't they? Because Barnet has exactly zero chance of winning the Premiership. Manchester, Arsenal, Chelsea, Liverpool and other top teams do!

...of course I say this after Liverpool got slaughtered by a Spanish team for a cup of some description (if it isn't Newcastle or England and doesn't affect Newcastle in any way, I could care less).

Women everywhere!

Raise your hands into the air!

You're idiots!

Idiots of the world!

Family Guy and Notice to Women (12/03/07)

2007-06-21T13:22:00.001+01:00

Family Guy: Stop rehashing old jokes; and if you do? At least rephrase them. You make my eyes cry blood with your lack of ingenuity.

Women: Stop being lying, cheating, psychotic bitches. Seriously. You fuckers complain when we men have porn on our computers, phones, in our DVD collection… when all the while you fuckers have ungodly amounts of pictures of your ex’s wang! Sounds funny, right? Wrong. Not when their dicks resemble single celled organism. If he’s that small, I must have a penis so microscopic that even the Hubble Space Telescope struggles to keep it in visual range.

From ten mm away!

Therefore I have decided to remove every woman’s womb via the use of an old, rusty, metallic coat hanger… through their fucking mouths.

All women must choke on my microscopic penis.

I can't escape the pain... it's everywhere! (25/02/07)

2007-06-21T13:21:00.003+01:00

So, recently I've been starved of sexual pleasure for three weeks; as you can imagine my testicles have turned a rather seductive shade of blue and after doing my daily PC exercises (Not Personal Computer; it's the muscle in your wang), pain is highly plausible. I usually go for about one hundred or so clean (without any restraints) and then pierce my bell end with a dirty sewing needle, then I attach it to my toe and proceed to do a further three. Why three after doing one hundred? Because after attaching the ring in my penis to my toe, the first one dislocates one of them. The second one tears my toe completely off my foot. The third one? I then attach it to a 14 wheeled Juggernaut and gently place a breezeblock onto the accelerator. Then? I wait for it to reach a steady 100 MPH and pull the Juggernaut back into its starting place which shatters the breezeblock and tears the ring out of my penis. I then use the dirty sewing needle which pierced my penis to sew my toe back to my foot and stitch up the tear in my bell end.

Well, that or I put a wet flannel across my penis and proceed to exercise.

Anyway, I ran head first into these exercises and sprained my wang pretty badly. It hurts. A lot. So after a week of having a horrible stabbing pain in my urethra when I urinate, my girlfriend came over! But... the horrible stabbing pain in my urethra when I urinate is still there. Hurting. All the time. Agony. Utter agony. (Un?)Fortunately my girlfriend is too kind to give me a good hard fuck when my knob hurts, so I had to suffer two weeks of not seeing her with only knuckle children to keep me company, and finally another week of no sex.

Great...

So! Anyway, I decided to fap it off today! Yay! ...no, not Yay. Because believe me, it hurt. Holding and fapping was nothing... then I ejaculated. All over. And it hurt. Like hell.

Moral of the story: Tantric men undergo a lot of pain in order to give multiple orgasms after multiple orgasms and blow their load whenever they feel like it. A lot of pain!

Now, come on people. I'm not as stupid as you may think (13/02/07)

2007-06-21T13:21:00.001+01:00

Many people decide on proving their idiocy to me on a daily basis; like it's a part of some sick regime. Seriously, stop it. I know you're inferior; you don't have to prove it to me. I promise! For example: When you try to play a joke on me? Unless it's practical, you're going to fail. Miserably. Even if it's practical, chances are you're going to be laughed out of the city as your joke gets turned on you.

Now, when somebody tries to take the piss out of me, it doesn't work! It's like putting me in an English Language class with a bunch of retards and not expect me to purposely correct everybody (including the teacher. Believe me, I'm currently doing it every Friday morning at college) and everything. Allow me to elaborate: You = Retard. I = Superior genius (thus the reason I am the King and Emperor of the Universe).

If that isn't simple enough, I don't know what is.

The reason I write this (and the reason I'm slightly more aggressive than usual) is because a certain ex girlfriend had her friend call me up in an attempt to mock me. Tut, tut, tut. Such idiocy should be condemned and those who practice it executed. I'll tell you the secret to why nobody can mock me while communicating with me: I have an inbred detector! So, when you take the piss out of me I know when to play along. Eventually I get bored and walk in the opposite direction/log off/stop talking/hang up.

For example:

Idiot: Are you good in bed?

Me: I wouldn't know, I've never fucked myself.

Idiot: Have you made a girl moan?

Me: Seeing as I'm slightly deaf in my right ear, I should imagine so.

Idiot: So have you made a girl moan?

Me: ...do you even speak fluent English?

Idiot: Is that a no?

Me: You mispronounced yes.

Idiot: Oh, so you are good in bed.

*Horrible, girly giggling echoes in background. Ears begin to bleed.*

Me: Would you like to find out?

Idiot: Oh god yes.

Me: Great. You'll have to pay.

Idiot: So you're a Gigolo?

Me: No, it's just in order for you to get an erection out of me, you'll have to give me money.

This is an actual excerpt from a conversation I mentioned earlier. You can see how the idiot failed to take control of the situation and how I allowed her to have a certain level of control before I got bored. Another interesting excerpt from the same conversation is as follows:

Idiot: Do you think you're sexy?

Me: I'm not egotistical enough to consider myself in such a way.

Idiot: But you have to think you're sexy!

Me: Do you think you're sexy?

Idiot: You have to, otherwise you think you're ugly. [Thump's note: She is ugly, I might add. Acne covered with 7 inches of make up and fat.]

Me: Right, well you need to remove your head from the black abyss and look in the mirror.

Idiot: What are you trying to say?

Me: That being sexy and thinking you're sexy are two different things.

Idiot: You've got no self confidence.

Me: I never denied that, however we are talking about belief, not confidence.

Idiot: But you obviously don't! You just said you didn't think you were sexy!

*Girly giggles from background.*

Girlies in background: But you are!

Me: *Sigh* Ego and self confidence are two different things. They're separated by a thin line.

Idiot: You are well sexy, though.

Me: ...right.

Even better! Again from the same conversation.

Idiot: Do you even know who this is?

Me: I have an inkling. [Thump's note: I lied; I knew exactly who she was.]

Idiot: Who is it then?

Girly in background: Don't ask him that!

Me: *********** [Thump's note: I won't make her famous by telling the world her name]

Idiot: How the fuck did you know that? I've only ever saw you, like, once!

Me: And spoken to me numerous times.

Idiot: That doesn't explain how you know who I am!

Me: I've a facility for it.

Notice how the idiot squirms. This is what happens to all who oppose me. An even better example of such fine stupidity and my incredibly witty mind can be seen when true idiots can't think of their own prank calls. Believe me, I've heard them all:

*Spoken in crappy Indian accent*

Idiot 2: You kicked my dog!

Me: She deserved it.

Idiot 2: You come in my house and kick my dog?

Me: Yes. You should have had her put down a long time ago.

Idiot 2: You kick my dog!

Me: We've established that.

Idiot 2: You no understand! You kick my dog!

Me: Indeed. But to be fair, your wife kicked me first.

Idiot 2: You kick my wife too?

Me: Oh shit, I thought we were talking about the same animal! Sorry, man!

Idiot 2: *Suddenly drops act* I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!

Me: Sure you are. Now piss off.

I could go on for days with those kind of displays of human stupidity, but my favourite is the golden oldie that is used by teenage girls worldwide to that strange, skinny kid with long hair.

Idiot 3: Heya!

Me: *Looks up* Yeah?

Idiot 3: I was just wondering what you were doing...? *Plays with hair*

Me: ...work?

Idiot 3: Oh! Yeah! *High pitched wail... or giggle... never sure which* What about tonight?

Me: Fucking you.

Idiot 3: Oh, I wish!

Me: Wishes come true.

Idiot 3: What time shall I meet you and where?

Me: After school in the bushes.

Idiot 3: But somebody might hear us!

Me: Damn, guess you're right! How about we just get it over and done with now? You open your mouth and I'll insert my cock down your throat. Nobody'll hear that, you won't be able to make a sound!

Idiot 3: That's disgusting...

Me: But true. Now go away, I'm working.

Idiot 3: So what time are we meeting?

Me: Fuck sakes... after school, north gates.

Idiot 3: ...which way is north?

Me: Sun rises in the east, sets in the west. Once you figure out which way the sun is heading, you can work it out.

Idiot 3: Okay!

After school...

Idiot 3: You didn't think I was serious did you?

Me: Serious? Of course not! I'm just waiting for you to let your guard down so I can drag you into that blue van over there where I can rape you.

Idiot 3: You wouldn't dare!

Me: Care to put money on that?

*Idiot 3 storms off*

Me: Can you break a fifty?

Too many stories. All of which true.

Moral: Idiots are everywhere; be on your guard.

When sexual frustration meets ugly porn (27/12/06)

2007-06-21T13:20:00.002+01:00

I'm becoming bored of my porn. It's horrifying, believe me. Though I don't have much porn anymore, I found my sexy porn disk with sexy porn (unfortunately it's mainly lesbian, and I'm into the hardcore penetration including extra woman for full effect) but it still only allowed me to collect 1.45GB of porn. Still quite sad in consideration.

Anyway, before my internet went down I downloaded some porn from a mysterious website that only a select group of internet terrorists can access. I don't know the name of the woman in it, but she's Swedish (I think...) and her first name is Lenka... and her second name is known to me only as 'G'. She must be a Rapper.

I think this is good porn! The woman in it is fucking hot! At least big C tits (*spLUEge*) and she has one of the best figures I've seen in a long time; what I'm trying to say is: I'd tap this shit without consideration... but don't let my girlfriend know. Best part about the whole thing is that the man in it? He's uglier than purified sin mixed in with a little bit of your Granny. Yeah, your Granny.

His mouth (when fully open) stretches beyond the horizons and his upper jaw becomes singed with the heat of the atmosphere bearing down on him. He bashed his head on the moon the other day because he yawned a little bit too liberally. I'm telling you, it's fucking huge (his mouth, his dick is relatively big; but his mouth > his dick)! To make matters worse? He has a forest growing on his brow.

Fucking seriously.

He was fucking this Lenka girl, right? Then he spasmed (You know that tingly feeling you get down your spine when you're just getting to the: "OH GOD SEX IS FUCKING GREAT!" stage?) and a fucking Bald Eagle flew out! Bird shit all over his fucking nose - which is equally as big, I might add. Think of a Jew, right? No, no Jews... think of a pick axe, right? A really big pick axe with snot hanging off of it and bird shit on it. You have his nose.

But this fucking pick axed nosed bastard... doesn't use his nose! I don't think he realises that air is free (lolololol). Oh no, he doesn't need his nose... he has his big... gaping... darkened abyss only known to us mortals as a mouth. It's actually quite terrifying. If he was a wolf you could hear him breathing around the fucking world. Through clenched teeth he sucks the air from the room, and the noise is deafening... when he reaches climax (which appears to be every other minute or so) he, naturally, breathes heavier; at which point the Earth's atmosphere turns a slightly lighter shade of blue.

But, once you've put his better assets aside (...what?) and you look at him as an artist... you realise his body is made up of shapes! Now, I know you're supposed to do that anyway... circle for the joints, ovals for the arms, legs etc. but that shit never worked for me, so we won't get into that. Really though; his torso is made up of an inverted triangle, his head is a rectangle and his dick is (believe it or not) a fucking triangle. My fucking sword isn't as pointed as his ding dong!

It's funny... the look she gives him when she realises she has to spread her legs for him... I think it's supposed to say "I'm sexy, I'm seductive. You want my vagina." and if you look at just the shot of her face, it may say that! ...but once you see the pick axed nosed bastard? All it says is "I should have called in sick today...".

So, the reason I began writing this was to inform everybody of my recent acquisition of a certain video editing program... which I've been playing with for the past couple of weeks. It's quite fun, really. I heard somebody once say that if you replace the word 'sword' with 'penis', DragonForce become a lot more interesting. Well, I tried it with the video of 'Through the Fire and the Flames'.

I searched through my porn to find an appropriate penis... well, five penii. Five appropriate penii. Two for drumsticks, two for guitars and one for a microphone. Let's just say that I took the term (used only by professional guitarists and musicians alike) "Fretwanking" to a whole new level. Especially when I realised that I'd actually got the money shot of one of the penii ejaculating by fluke (I won't call it a mistake because it added to the hilarity). What did I do? Moved it to the high note and watched as Herman Li blew his load all over Sam Totman as he finished swigging his drink.

However, I decided all this work of video editing and straining towards professionalism was a little too ambitious and that I hadn't done anything small and beginner like... did it stop me? Yes, as a matter of fact it did.

I rubbed the pick axed nosed bastard's head out of every shot it was visible. Frame. By. Fucking. Frame. Still not content, what did I decide on doing? I ran the sound through the channels, so the pick axed nosed bastard were going through the left channel and ambient noise/Lenka were going through the right channel. That was about a days work right there... what was the point of this? Well, my left speaker is further away from me and has a 17" monitor in it's way, so it'll take the sound waves longer to travel to me.

Bollocks. I did it so I can erase him from the porn entirely.

BUT! I had a better idea!

After being horrified by the sight of a good looking, young, nubile woman being fucked by a headless triangle, I decided to use some face replacement therapy on the .avi files. I got the head of Joey DeMaio (a really corny shot off of Hell on Earth Part 1 from the bonus section) and pasted it on the headless porn star. Now, again this was all frame by frame... I started doing this about a month ago... and it's finally reached completion! However, it's a bit strange watching a static .PNG image smiling at me while its body fucks a girl... some of the time its head has turned 180 degrees.

But now I can ejaculate in peace, and sleep at night knowing the worlds a better place.

If I had a bullet for every time somebody made a stupid noise towards me, they wouldn't be alive right now. (10/12/06)

2007-06-21T13:20:00.001+01:00

So, today I was walking to the shop for my mother, right? I turned the corner and everything was fine, then just as I was about to turn the final corner to get to the shop, a bunch of inbred retards come around on their bikes. I thought "Oh, great. They've stopped. They're waiting for me. Fun!". The oldest (about 15/16 now I should imagine) actually screamed "NYER! NYER NYEEEER!" imitating what I thought was a dying cat (apparently it was a motorbike, but they fooled me!) and tried to wheelie into my face!

They forgot that the funny looking guy with long hair and a leather jacket has hands and isn't afraid of getting them dirty from nasty bicycle wheels.

I grabbed his front wheel. He stopped dead. His friends panicked. Spectators played a diminished chord for extra tension. The 15 year old began crying.

Then I pushed the bike slightly to the right.

I was impressed by the fact that my right hand didn't leave my pocket and even more so by how effortless I made it look. Anyway, I digress. When he finally stood back up and I finished laughing, he threatened me!

...well, he actually just kind of made a funny noise in my general direction. So I hit him!

Oh, how funny he looked after being punched in the face. Then he made another funny noise in my general direction! So I threw his bike at him! Then his brother chased after me! So I ran!

Anyway, three kids on bike versus alcoholic music student who smokes too much? Let's just say they caught me. What was a man to do? I was being threatened with being beaten to within an inch of my life! Oh noes! Like I gave a shit, I was bored an in need of entertainment... so the LUEser who had been laying dormant within myself awoke and shook my entire body and mind... and then all hell broke loose.

"What the fuck did you do to my brother?!"

"...I hit him. Twice. Once with a bike."

"Why the fuck did you do that, you fucking little bastard?!"

"Because he made a stupid noise at me."

"What the fuck are you talking about, you fucking stinking hippie?"

"But I had a bath just this morning..."

"Fucking tramp, I'll fucking kill you!"

"ANGST OUT OF TEN!"

"...what?"

"LOL [Thumps note: Yes, I did actually shout 'LOL' at him.] FAG!" *Runs into shop*

Anyway, I walked out of the shop afresh with four pints of milk, two tins of dog food, a loaf of bread, sugar, three packets of filter tips and eight packets of rolling papers. Only to find the kids standing outside of the shop. The LUEser broke free once more and again, hell was raised.

"FUCKING GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE BASTARD!"

"No! You come here!"

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

"No you won't, you don't have the balls."

*Walks towards me* "WANT A FUCKING BET?!"

"Depends how much you're willing to bet."

"ANY AMOUNT OF FUCKING MONEY! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

*Kicks in balls*

"LOL! I WIN!"

Then I ran back home... with four pints of milk, two tins of dog food, a loaf of bread, sugar, three packets of filter tips and eight packets of rolling papers. Only to find the kids had ran to their parents (drug dealers) to find the 'stinking hippie who just had a bath this morning who knocked the retard out, who kicked me in the balls. You'll know him because his hair smells of Herbal Essences shampoo!'.

The parents then came out with knives, baseball bats and a machete... oh joy. What the fuck have I got myself into here?

...oh look, nothing. Because the police are right next to them... oh shit, I'm going to die. Oh wait, no... they're getting arrested! Yay!

Moral of the story: Sexual frustration causes violence.

College sucks. Never go to College. (06/12/06)

2007-06-21T13:19:00.002+01:00

I've learnt many things since I have begun this blog of online awesomeness. I have realised that skin eating chemicals are in fact skin eating chemicals. I've been taught that women (in general) are cheating bitches. I've come to realise that I rock even more than I knew I did when I began this... however the most important lesson I've learnt?

College sucks.

I loved it when I got back into learning, absolutely loved it. Instead of being told to learn stuff (like school), I was being asked to learn things! It was great! To make it better? I got to sing and play guitar! I thought my dreams had come true when I was told that I would be rocking out in a live performance at three points during the year too! Ecstasy. Bliss.

Then we started work on the second performance we were to play...

Great...

Imagine my excitement when I wasn't given any singing parts (I'm a vocalist and I'm not singing... what?), I'm playing guitar day in, day out... to none other than that painfully technical guitar track... ABBA! DANCING QUEEN! *Fanfare*

The first performance had me singing and playing guitar to Queen - I Want to Break Free and The Beatles - Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. I thought it was great. It resparked my love for both Queen and the Beatles. It was fantastic, most enjoyable thing I did in years! And this year they make me play guitar on fucking Abba? ABBA?! I can't find the logic... I really can't.

The set list is even better. Absolutely incredible, I think. The Beatles - Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club (We wanted Norwegian Wood, but no! This song is infinitely better! ....*sigh*), T.Rex - Children of the Revolution (They've done better songs, why's this one so damn important?), Madness - Baggy Trousers, Abba - Dancing Queen (There isn't a hard enough wall to bash my head against...), Blur - Song 2 (Eh...) and some song from Grease.

Yay...

In all honesty, I wouldn't mind doing Abba!

If I was playing Keyboards.

What gets on my tits is that we have three guitarists (To Abba's one...), and none of us have a fucking clue what we're playing. The bassist doesn't know, the drummer has a rough idea and the keyboardist sits there and gets pissed off after the first verse seeing as she can't figure out the chord changes. Why don't any of us know what we're playing?

The Mackam-Geordie hybrid known only as "Phil Poolan" (Who appears to model himself on Marc Bolan...) keeps changing the bloody thing. He has became affectionately known to us as "Syd Barret in reincarnation", or "That stupid fucking Mackam bastard who can't fucking play the same song to save his fucking dirty bastard life". He is generally thought highly of amongst us, as you can probably tell.

Would you like to know how pissed off we all are at him?

We've given up playing the song.

We just fuck around during the rehearsals... which last about 3 hours long... per fucking day... I dislike this. I dislike it to much. Especially when I have to put up with three Mackams playing fucking pop punk all bastard day!

Jesus, I still feel pissed off... I may need to vent at you all once more at some stage.

If not, expect to hear of a student killing a tutor at Newcastle College.

From this day forward I shall join the women in their hatred of beards. (05/12/06)

2007-06-21T13:19:00.001+01:00

Recently I took up a shaving strike due to the fact that I'm absolutely petrified of the razor we have. It's one of the first style razors to come out, y'know the ones that take cut-throat razors as refills? Yeah, them. Every time I shave I have to drink two pints of water to compensate for the blood loss. Now, this wouldn't be a bad thing if I happened to be a suicidal masochistic emo... but as it happens? I'm not.

The problem with these razors is that you can't win. When they're sharp you have to have the correct angle to get any hair off of your face at all, if you move it 1 degree in the wrong direction? Odin help you, because you'll fucking bleed to death, my friend. When they're blunt? They just take the skin off of half of your face. So, imagine my excitement when I realise that we still haven't bought any new razors!

Anyway! Last time I shaved was almost a week ago. If you're still wondering why, read the last paragraph, then send me your home address and correct postage and packaging fee and I'll send it out to you. So what if I go to prison sentenced with Manslaughter? At least I would have proven my point, right?

I had a Varg Vikerness style beard at one point, y'know, the goatee type things but only on your chin? Yeah, I looked pretty damn hardcore. I looked like a pimp if I left my sideburns to grow (which I often did). Now, the difference between my Varg beard and sideburns and a full on beard? The Varg beard and sideburns didn't itch half as much as this.

Come to think of it, nowhere I've shaved on my body has ever been this itchy... and I've shaved a lot. I used to shave my pubes on a regular basis (Cut down the forest so you can see the tree) and my girlfriend made me shave my chest and my armpits. So far the armpits were probably the worst. I was told to splash cold water on them to numb the itching. I did!

Nothing happened.

I was told that an ice cube would help.

It made me cold.

I was then told by Steph (cousin) that I should try Vaseline. I did!

It made both of my armpits greasy as hell and fucking uncomfortable... to make matters worse it still didn't numb the itch.

On the beard though... shit, I've tried everything. Calamine lotion, E45 cream, Vaseline, cold water, ice cold water, ice cubes, water at room temperature, tepid water, warm water, hot water, boiling hot water, naked flame, a mixture of all above, lava, 12-gauge shotgun, muffler from a Harley, electro-shock therapy, neodymium magnets and piranha fish. So far it succeeded in making me lose interest in pain of all shapes and sizes.

Jesus, it got so bad at one point that I even tried going to a Fondue party! It didn't do much, but it did help me pull off my Freddy Krueger impersonation.

I looked like a young Sven Goran Erikkson.

I seriously don't fucking get why the hell anybody would want a beard! I know a couple with them and sure, they pull it off. I never see them scratching or anything (unlike me who is currently tearing my face to shreds in order to remove my nerves), so I come to the conclusion that I'm allergic to facial hair on my jaw bone and the best part of my cheek!

I would wash the damned thing if it was long enough!

However my face does feel fluffy and soft... like a kittens! :3

My biggest test as a gamer has been confronted. (02/12/06)

2007-06-21T13:18:00.002+01:00

For the commercially Christian festival known as Christmas, I have decided to give my brother (Jack) my PS2. Why? Because I never play it and rarely have the time to play it due to the fact that I'm lazy or I don't have time. "What's the problem? Where does the test fit into all this, Thump?" I hear you ask inquisitively.

I've only completed MGS3. Once.

I only own about six games but I resent giving away any form of games console... especially when I've unfinished business on it. This makes me rather sad... now, my challenge is this:

Complete the games (including the three which has been bought for the brat, making nine games, eight of which uncompleted) before Christmas... it needs to be wrapped and such yet... so I have about 20 days at MOST to complete these games.

I must go and allow myself to be defeated, because let's face it - I'm fucked.

UPDATE: Upon Christmas Eve it came to realisation that I have failed. Miserably. I became addicted to San Andreas (Those missions are infuriating and it lead to me refusing to put it down for about a week in order to complete the more annoying missions.... I got about 1/4 ways through the second island) and got stuck on The Suffering 2... I refused to even attempt to complete Spryo the Alcoholic Dragon: Enter the Brewery and same goes for some game called 'Hidden Invasion'. Looked like a lower budget version of Mace Griffin: Bounty Hunter (Xbox), I got bored of Americas 10 Most Wanted after I realised how shite it was, I got sick of my eyes becoming strained because of the pre-battle sequence on Lord of the Rings: Third Age and I just never got around to playing the others.

Now he has my PS2. But I've still got MGS:3 and the Memory Card... and I'm waiting for the PS3 to be released so the PS2 will drop in price. I win.

Guy Fawkes is a bad influence on me. (6/11/06)

2007-06-21T13:18:00.001+01:00

As you all know, it was Bonfire Night last night. A largely British celebration, as it was founded by a dirty red Commie trying to blow up the Houses of Parliament. It's a touching story remembered nowadays by smack heads (Heroin Addicts) sitting outside corner shops screaming: "PENNY FOR DA GAY!" (See entry: "Hallows Eve is nigh upon us. Prepare."), the conclusion of this begging is brought upon on the 5th of November (when the plot was foiled... NOT the day when Guy Fawkes was executed) by throwing your Guy Fawkes made of black bags and old clothes and used and discarded condoms upon the flames... why?

We don't know.

Every year my Nana holds a family gathering to commemorate the fact that somebody at least tried to explode the politicians of Britain. Kind of sick, no? Anyway! I walked in and immediately I saw my cousin and her boyfriend, so I stood talking to them for a while, then I saw my other cousin... then another cousin... who had whiskey. It began with a couple of mouthfuls, it ended in a couple of glasses (one of which poured by me... big mistake) and eventually me and my cousin's boyfriend (Gav, he was one of the first people I started talking to) eating raw chicken.

We didn't actually know the chicken was raw when we eat it... seriously, we didn't. It was there so we eat it.

What made me laugh is when I walked outside to meet my girlfriend to have about four people say "DUDE! GAV'S EATING RAW CHICKEN!". I'm standing there with a half eaten raw chicken in my hand. My reply was this:

"*raises chicken, takes bite out of chicken* Point in question?".

Everybody laughed and it was left upon mine and Gav's shoulders to worry about our health. Immediately Gav asked my Nana whether or not it was in fact raw. My Nana gave her typical over complicated answer.

"Well, if it was on the tray which is resting on one of the chairs in the front room the chances are it is raw, or if it's red in the middle, it's raw but you should be fine as Salmonella isn't as common in white meat."

Gav turned slightly white (Which would have made him unlikely to catch Salmonella as it's not as common in white meat) and then threw the rest of his chicken into the fire.

I continued eating mine.

Later on in the night the Jack Daniels had began making me slightly ill and I felt like throwing up... maybe it was the chicken? No, it was the whiskey, I don't drink it as often as I used to, so I think my tolerance may have slipped (about fucking time).

The next day I went over to my Nana’s to pick up my brothers bike.

Interesting fact: My brother is six. This is a BMX for a six year old. With lights. And a bell that rings. And things to make it look good. But it's small as fucking hell, and I had to ride the damned thing about three fucking miles.

Anyway, Steph and Gav were there. Steph looked fine, Gav looked rather ill... strange. He told me that he believed he was dying of Salmonella. I laughed and promptly went into the front room to get more food... though Gav was ill, when he realised there was more food he eat like a motherfucker. Then complained his stomach hurt.

Good ol' Gav.

Eventually Steph pissed off and came back with babies! Yay babies!

Then I remembered how much one of them liked to bounce... followed by being thrown into the air... and I was always the victim of this bounce-fly exercise. Now remember, I smoke too much, rarely leave the house, drink too much, don't sleep properly and don't have a healthy diet. This means I'm lazy and unfit! Yet, the baby (I can't remember which one, I think it's Joshy... I can't tell twins ;_;. NOTE: It is Nathan! I have been taught by a higher life form which is which!) tortures me with this.

To cut a long story short, it resulted in me being half dead and collapsing in the hospital room after being diagnosed with the universal problem known as OH GOD NO! NOT MORE BOUNCING BABIES! Syndrome.

I've months left to live.

Jesus, something is wrong with me... but this time my sexual organs have nothing to do with it! (5/11/06)

2007-06-21T13:17:00.000+01:00

Recently, I've been craving coffee. That's right, a Limey craving coffee, something isn't quite right there. Anyway, I'm very peculiar about exactly what coffee I'll drink. For example: Nescafe? Don't bring that shit near me. It's fucking revolting. If you want to see me urinate from my arsehole, then by all means, give me Nescafe, until that day? Give me some Earl Grey and lemon and I'll be happy.

Anyway, I was walking through the supermarket recently and I saw it... Columbian Coffee for £2.85. HEAVENLY! So, I naturally forced my mother to by me it as I'm a worthless student who has no money/spent all his money on alcohol/can't be arsed to go to the bank/has only just realised that he has direct debits in his bank account/doesn't have the energy to spend money/has slept all day/is a tosser who doesn't want to spend £2.85 on some coffee/is King and Emperor of the universe and doesn't see why he must pay for some brown granules.

I decided on that last one.

Anyway, a week went by without the smell of the glorious Columbian coffee. I was horrified! Anyway, Friday came and I came back from college with the smell of the beautiful, beautiful Columbian drifting out of my kitchen... then I saw it. My mother was sitting having a giggle fit with a cup of coffee next to her.

I'll take this opportunity to remind you all that we all drink tea in this house. It's rare that we'll drink anything else, we have coffee... but we've had that for years. We have Cocoa... but we'll have that for years. We have instant Hot Chocolate, but I bought that last summer (not the summer just gone) to help me sleep. Therefore we aren't exactly used to caffeine in uber strong doses... like this coffee supplies us with.

Now, I had a cup of tea (as I do every time I come back from college). I then made myself a cup of coffee about 30 minutes after finishing my tea. I made it how I make all my uber coffee. Two mounted teaspoons of coffee, two level teaspoons of sugar and an eye drop of milk. However! Something wasn't right... even after I drank it (about ten minutes - I love this coffee). Then I realised what it was.

I was still tired.

I had something to eat (which woke me up slightly), washed down by an even stronger cup of Columbian! Four mounted teaspoons, two mounted sugars and absolutely no milk... 10 minutes after drinking it? Nothing. This was a first for me, I've only ever had one other container of Columbian (the same brand, I think) and about five other cups of it... perhaps I'm just getting used to the caffeine?

No, that couldn't be it. Because it took ten mounted teaspoons of Columbian, four mounted sugars and no milk in a bloody big mug to even wake me up the slightest!

And then it hit me... and I realised just how stupid I had been. At about 10pm... all the coffee I had drank that day (which happened to be about seven cups) it had all been waiting for it's time to strike... and now it had it. I forgot about the delayed reaction I have to Columbian. I mean seriously, I was awake until about seven the next morning and then passed out. Woke up at 2pm with what is known in the trade as a caffeine hang over.

Dear god I felt like shit. Nasty horrible Columbian!

What did I do once I woke up? Had a cup of tea, of course! And then started back on the coffee... it's now 4pm the following day and I only got up an hour ago.

The moral of this story is that Coffee is evil and must not be drank... but now I want some.

Same time tomorrow, people.

Hallow's Eve is nigh upon us. Prepare. (30/10/06)

2007-06-21T13:16:00.000+01:00

The night of the witches is here, and with it? The night of the biggest conspiracy in Britain to include a large explosion and the death of a man... Guy Fawkes.

This is my favourite month. Why? Simple! I get to scare the holy living shit out of kids and smack heads who just can't work for a living! Yay! In most places you get young children knocking on your door saying "Trick or treat!" or singing some tune or rhyme which is only ever remembered by said children. Those children are also dressed up as something scary... like a ghost, or a monster, or that guy out of Scream.

Even better, you walk to the local off license for a couple of drinks of some good old hearty Guinness and you see a group of children huddle around a doll that they have spent months working on and perfecting, only turning at the last minute to politely ask (in perfect synchronisation and chorus, I might add!): "Penny for the guy?".

However, Newcastle isn't most places. We get teenagers coming to the door with weapons saying: "GIVE ME ALL YOUR MONEY BEFORE I BLOW YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!". Then we go around the corner to the local off license for a bottle of Bella Brusco (cheap wine, for those of you not 'in da no') for your bratty younger brother/sister/local idiot and see some guy lying comatose in front of the bus stop, not sure whether it was the alcohol or the beaten he just took, you look at him for a while. Then you realise the raving lunatic running around in circles screaming: "AMBULANCE FOR THE GUY! AMBULANCE FOR THE FUCKING GUY! Hey! Give me a smoke! No? AMBULANCE FOR THE GUY!".

Of course, technology also has its breakthrough this month. Due to the advent of .mp3 playing mobile phones, we now have backing music to the mystical art of begging! Nothing like a bit of electronic music to remind us how pathetic these pricks really are. Thank you, Apple, I hope you realise you started all this off. You're to blame. You're the one we should be trying to blow up, not some parlimentary building in London. Couple of sticks of Nitro-Glycerine should do the trick, if not? Oh well, plenty more sticks of Nitro-Glycerine to go!

I'll tell you how low people are in my area. Two years ago a kid (he was about 9) had his head smacked against the bus shelter for the sake of what he had in his Guy's hat. If it was a substantial amount of money, I wouldn't have been as concerned, but it was about 70p... The kid had his nose broken for 70p. How stupid is that?

Anyway, on my way home from my Nana’s today I got off the bus to change over to the next only to be taunted by repetitious squealing: "PENNY FOR THE GUY, PENNY FOR THE GUY, PENNY FOR THE GUY, PENNY FOR THE GUY, PENNY FOR THE GUY". Repeat that in a monotone voice seven or eight times and you'll realise how much I wanted to throw this girl under the bus wheels. I decided to be nice, though. There was six of them. Four males, two... things. I think those 'things' were trying to be female, though I'm never sure... wait, maybe they were female? I don't know.

I, once more, digress.

I decided to be nice, as I said. And I did what they asked. I gave Guy a penny and told the girls that if they were to even attempt to take it from him, he'd come back and haunt them after it was set on fire. They didn't believe me, so I told them that it's why we celebrate Bonfire Night. So we can purify his spirit and keep him out of our world... they bought it.

INTERLUDE:

These girls were at least 14. Not young, but idiots all the same.

END INTERLUDE

My favourite party gag that I do to trick or treater’s is either one of the following:

Urinate on them.

Vomit on them.

Choke them.

Intimidate them.

Cover myself in fake blood (I'd use real blood but apparently six year old brothers are people too and I can't kill him :( ).

Tell them to fuck off.

Hurl objects of all different sizes in their faces, just for the hell of it.

In fact, you must boycott all trick or treater’s! Next year, when they come around you must tell them to trick you. Pass this around your neighbourhood. That way, by the time the end of the night comes? They'll be fresh out of ideas and they'll go home with empty pockets.

This you must do. For the sake of all people with a shred of dignity left in their bodies.

Fight against the ToTers!

I... I have a confession to make... (30/10/06)

2007-06-21T13:15:00.000+01:00

Some of you know me as 'The Resident Pervert' (Members of Orlocksi's uber house of r0x0rne$$), some of you know me as 'Hollow Life' (Members of the Internet Terrorist Organisation known as 'LUE' or 'LUElinks'), some of you know me as 'almighty King and Emperor of Knowledge' (Wise people), others know me as plain old 'Thump' (Everybody else), hell, some of you may even know me as "That stupid fucking Brit who has his head so far up his own rectum he watches his bowel movements like soap operas" (Jews).

However, I should imagine the word on everybody’s lips about me is 'sex'. Not saying I'm sexy (Though it's painfully obvious), but you all know it's one of my favourite hobbies... no, it is my favourite hobby, my mistake. But recently? I just haven't been getting anything out of sex. Seriously! The past couple of months have been boring as hell! Even when I'm fapping, I don't get the same explosive pleasure I used to get... it's like a drug, I suppose. You get the best buzz from the first hit.

I saw my doctor about it, he said it was due to my being a smoker, I promptly pulled my trousers down and ejaculated into his coffee. Best orgasm I ever had. Though I'm not entirely sure it was a good orgasm because of the pleasure or the way he cried when he took a mouthful.

Possibly both.

The really worrying thing is that I'm not even lasting as long as I used to! I used to be able to last a good couple of hours. Now? Well, only two hours! Devastating! Therefore I have decided to set a challenge!

All women I deem well enough must provide me with the best orgasm of my life! If they fail? Well, I suppose I'll just have to sacrifice them to the Supreme Deities Odin and Thor. Why? No reason, I just haven't sacrificed anybody to them and I think it'll be a fun little trick. If they don't fight at Ragnarok? Then they'll have to pleasure me once more, if they again fail to satisfy me then they shall have to live in Helheim... with Hel. And Balder.

...no... they wouldn't. They'd be incinerated when the Gods fail... and the World Tree is set aflame... hmm. I should hope that you please me then, eh?

HAH! Foolproof!

(Thump's note: I realise women shouldn't be in battle, but it'd be amusing to make them hold a sword)

It is I who shall go to Valhalla! I shall find a woman there to please me! I shall ejaculate them through the wall and out of Asgard! My eyes have been laid upon Idun! Her apples are ripe for the picking and I shall be the picker!

Or I could just stay with Alex and be content with how much love we share... oh damn, this is a tricky one... eh... shite.

Alex it is.

All other females must pleasure a manic depressive who shall then kill himself as he was used and then the woman shall commit suicide shortly after realising she forced the depressive into committing suicide.

I WIN!

On an unrelated note: Today I saw somebody (male) who was skinnier than me! I say again:

I WIN!

Danger! Fire kills Children! (12/10/06)

2007-06-21T13:14:00.000+01:00

So anyway, as I was coming back from band rehearsals I realised that I had previously blew up my only lighter. Now, due to the fact that my tobacco pouch was running rather short I realised that this may cause a saving of my tobacco, papers and filters!

No, about five minutes after this decision was made I decided to have a smoke.

I rolled the dust of my tobacco pouch and reached into my pocket for my lighter... oh wait, look at that. I don't actually have a lighter. Because the fucking thing exploded in my bastard hand the night before! Oh well, let's start looking for a garage or something to buy some matches.

I would have bought another lighter, but the whopping 59p in my pocket didn't quite suffice, strangely enough. So I decided quite quickly on a box of matches. I found a Jet garage and decided to go into it, now I was amazed at the fact that they had Swan Vesta matches, even more amazed to find out it contained an average of 85 matches, even more amazed still at the fact that they were only 23p!

After being proud of this apparent bargain I bought it!

Well, that and I needed a smoke.

Anyway! I began wandering back home, when I got back home I realised that the matches had an intriguing sign on the back. Now, I had seen this a couple of years ago but I'd forgotten about it. It's something from Cyanide and Happiness, I swear. It's the picture of a stickman with fire engulfing a quarter of his head and the entire of his left arm with text beside it. "Danger! Fire kills children", it says.

No shit, Sherlock? Like us growed ups are any less immune to the flames? No, really - it hurts us too! We can die too! We're at more of a risk because we are allowed to light them (See that, kiddies? I can light a match without getting grounded. You light a match and you get bitchwhipped. GROWED UPS - 1; BRATS - 0)!

I'll have to get a scan of it at some point, every time I see it I just piss myself laughing. Some other interesting things listed on tobacco products are as follows:

Swan Matches

“Keep in a dry place away from children. Strike gently and away from body"

Keep in a dry place? Away from children? Does my pocket suffice? I'm sure no young child is going to go searching around my trouser pockets while they're on my legs... I'm no Gary Glitter. And like I'm going to give a match to a child when I know the dangers! I've seen your sick diagram, Swan. You evil bits of congealed ejaculatory fluid!

Now, what's this shit about striking gently and away from body? I strike the match too gently and what happens? It doesn't light... it isn't enough to scratch the red layer from it to expose the reactive chemical to the oxygen which makes flame... where's the fun in this shit? I want a smoke now, god dammit! And away from whose body? The child I'm trying to set on fire? Perhaps I might do that, just to see if the diagram is true to life.

Drum Tobacco

"Break seal gently"

What would the animal rights activists say to that, I wonder? Break what, anyway? Its morale? That would be pretty pointless I'm sure. I mean it's a seal! The morale can't be all that high, it just sits sunbathing for a while until it gets bored and dives into the water, only to come back up five minutes later... how fucking sadistic.

Of course, I kid. They're talking about the seal which keeps nasty shit out of the tobacco... which happens to be the world’s strongest glue, made from the hairs from 10,000 arachnids. They also recommend breaking a block of concrete gently too.

Pretty much any lighter fluid in the history of bottled butane

"Do not pierce, burn, inhale or spray on objects"

...why the hell would I want to pierce a can (therefore rendering it useless) of something I just paid £3.60 for? You must think I'm fucking stupid! I just paid for a bottle of a flammable substance in order to fill my lighter up... now you're telling me not to make holes in it or spray it on anything? Why would I burn the shit anyway? If I was still holding a can filled to the brim with butane and it set on fire? I've a strange feeling I'd throw it at a Frenchman. That way I'd be a lot happier when the world is a better place and the frog would be on fire.

And what's this shit about inhaling it? You've plastered 'solvent abuse can kill' all over the damned thing, yet you're making a product which is flammable and is there for the sole purpose of putting into a smaller container to carry around with you... holy shit, what an awesome idea. Fuck you very much! You're giving us something which can cause irate fires, which can burn hell out of anybody because of the freezing cold temperature of the damned thing, and it's for a lighter which is there to light cigarettes which kill you anyway, what the hell has your lighter been lighting recently?

And now for some interesting warnings on the side of tobacco products!

Every tobacco product packaging to be made in recent times

"Smoking kills"

Well done, Detective Dipshit. Like we didn't fucking know that in the first place? Shut up and smoke your own products.

"Smoking seriously harms you and the others around you"

It may hurt others, but not as much as it would if I stubbed a cigarette out on their face. That'd learn 'em!

"Smoking causes ageing of the skin"

As does stress. I can't remember taking a stressful job and being given a warning like that. Plus, I'm 17, I smoke rather heavily and I still don't look any older! I struggle to order a pint half the time! Fortunately a mystical bit of plastic with my birthday a year before hand says otherwise.

"Smoking may reduce the blood flow and causes impotence"

...rofl. If my penis was unable to stand up on end I'd prevent my blood from travelling around my body. I'd make it congeal all over my wall instead. I've no penis problems and I've a strange feeling it isn't going to die anytime soon. Some can argue that I don't get erect as often as I used to, but that can be defended with the fact that sleep has become a rare thing for me, and I'm too lazy to fuck anybody nowadays. Come to think of it, I haven't fapped it in a couple of weeks... my god, that's depressing. Maybe it does cause impotence?

Nope, I'm just lazy.

"Smoking is highly addictive, don't start"

Oh really? I thought it was just fun to spend money on white sticks to hang up on my wall and use them as expensive fucking ornaments!

"Roken kan leiden tot een langzame, pijnlijke dood Fumer peut entraÎner une mort lente et douloureuse Rauchen kann zu einem langsamen und schmerzhaften Tod führen."

...I really need to stop getting my tobacco imported.

Thump "does" London. (27/09/06)

2007-06-21T13:13:00.002+01:00

IMPORTANT NOTE: The following entry is not likely to substantiate any form of grammar (other than bad) as I haven't slept properly for 48 hours.

So, some of you may know that a couple of months back I acquired two tickets to see Blind Guardian at The Electric Ballroom in London. If you didn't know? Well, now you do. Feel privileged!

Anyway, my ex girlfriend was due to come with me... but we broke up. So, my new girlfriend was due to come with me... but she couldn't be arsed. Then I texted my friend from the Internet Terrorist Group Known As LUE to come with me but his phone number is now... not that number anymore, I guess. Then I texted another friend from the same Internet Terrorist Group Known As LUE and he said: "Hell yeah!" and he became the proud owner of the 98th ticket that was sold.

I'm going to be doing a sort of obligatory review of the show and an obligatory "Thump did London and paid for it" thing. Should be fun.

So, I was waiting outside the venue and just hanging about smoking my cancer sticks and waiting for the band to come out for long enough to sign my ticket and who walks out? Marcus! I glanced at him and said to myself: "Oh, hey! It's Marcus!"... then I had to double take and I said: "Holy shit, it's Marcus!"... I froze. I never get star struck, but today I did. The one member I always said I wouldn't be too bothered about, I was incredibly bothered about. My heart stopped beating, I'm sure.

Anyway, by the time I pulled the ticket and pen out - he'd buggared off back into the venue. Shit! Oh well, there's always later, I suppose. I went into the pub just next door and ordered myself about six pints of Guinness and calmly got pissed. Once I'd finished getting pissed I went back out and met my friend, Izzy. We were having a bit of a chinwag (as us Brits do) about tea and crumpets and scones when I suddenly felt somebody move behind me... I turned around and André was there!

Trying to get through a locked door.

So, he muttered something to himself which sounded like: "Open...?". Then my good friend Izzy turned to him and said "The door is further down there, mate.", I said "Hey! André!" and then my mind had a panic attack again. "...or is it Marcus?". Now, I've always told the difference between the two because André has a bigger nose than Marcus... I know, cruel but it's my way of differentiating.

Now, even though my mind had mistaken one of my favourite guitarists for the other guitarist... he still smiled and said: "André". He looked flattered that I even recognised him as a member of Blind Guardian. Anyway, the whole deal of signing tickets came into mind and I remembered I was yet to get one signature on my ticket... as André was beginning to walk away. "Oh shit! André! Could you do me a favour? ...André? ANDRÉ! ...for the love of Odin, he is a dick.".

Then I hit upon the idea that maybe he didn't actually speak English... but then I remembered that André wrote many songs for Blind Guardian... then I got confused. But again, I failed to realise that Hansi could have just translated... oh well.

After seeing my good buddy Herman Li walk past me (I didn't talk to him, most people know of my disgust for DragonForce nowadays... but Izzy still doesn't believe me that it was Herman...), I shrugged it off and got on with the wait. Once we got in, we immediately checked out the Venue to see how big it was and how good of a view we were going to get of the stage... a pretty awesome one, as a matter of fact.

I set after buying myself a Blind Guardian t-shirt and finally got myself a sexy looking Twist in the Myth one. We hung about upstairs on the balcony where we would watch the performance take place and then I notice Astral Doors had walked on stage. Oh shit. I looked forward to seeing these guys perform but the guitarist pumped the crowd up more than the vocalist did. The vocalist just stood their looking like a hunchback and it appeared he had a case of (what Guitarists call) sticky elbow.

If his arm had outstretched fully for more than two seconds I think his heart would have ceased.

I don't know what they were playing but the guitarist had his head so far up his own arse he was eating what was left of his undigested lunch. I didn't enjoy the performance at all. I can't say I'm a fan of Astral Doors, I can't say I'd ever want to meet them, I can't say I'd be upset if they stopped making music, it was stock, bland, boring and quite frankly the most irritating thing I've ever heard in my life. Reminds me of another band I saw who I took an almost instantaneous dislike too... Sabaton.

Anyway, they finally fucked off and those stupid, stupid, idiotic southerners started chanting something... I couldn't believe my ears for about five minutes... they were chanting: "Hail! Hail! Hail and Kill!" over and over again... wait, this is a Blind Guardian gig... why are they chanting a Manowar song? It persisted: "Hail! Hail! Hail and Kill!"... what the fuck?! Then I lost my temper... all day I'd been hiding the fact I wasn't from London and was in fact a Geordie but now I had snapped.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM YOU STUPID SOUTHERN PONSES?! THIS IS NOT A FUCKING MANOWAR SHOW! THIS IS BLIND GUARDIAN, NOW STOP BEING FUCKING INBRED RETARDS BEFORE I COME DOWN THEIR AND FUCKING KILL THE LOT OF YOU!"

It worked! They stopped chanting it!

Pretty much everybody knows I'm a power metal vocalist. Pretty much everybody knows I have quite good pitch... so when some stupid fucking southern ponse pushes their voice into falsetto (not impressive, it's the voice men do most of the time when imitating a woman) and forces a 'METAL LIVES FOREVER!' out, I turned to Izzy and said: "Should I put him to shame or not?". I realised the cheer that he had gotten for doing that pathetic attempt... but I decided not to push my luck. I had an entire gig of singing to go yet, to kill my voice this early would be fucking stupid.

SETLIST:

Astral Doors:

Crap music for agonising amount of time.

Blind Guardian:

1 The War of Wrath

2 Into the Storm

3 Born in a Mourning Hall

4 Nightfall

5 Fly

6 Valhalla

7 When Time Stands Still (At the Iron Hill)

8 Script for my Requiem

9 Bright Eyes

10 This Will Never End

11 And Then There Was Silence

---------

12 Welcome to Dying

13 Another Stranger, Me

14 Imaginations from the Other Side

---------

15 The Bards Song

16 Mirror, Mirror

And eventually the light was flickered four times and the War of Wrath echoed around the venue. Holy shit, this gave me shivers. It was an elongated version too! The battle sounds at the beginning were looped a couple of times and some dialogue I hadn't heard before was playing. I stared at the stage hoping they'd hurry up and come out. I started chanting along with the speakers and got lost in the moment.

Then I noticed it... somebody at the side of the stage was making tea! This was incredible! I know Hansi likes his cups of tea, but I wasn't expecting him to actually drink it on fucking stage! I was a little shocked and eventually shrugged it all off. I watched Fred wander out, I watched André walking out (I still hadn't forgiven him for not signing my ticket therefore I shouted abuse at him). I watched Marcus wander out... but where was Hansi? The man I'd been dying to see in flesh and blood for five years.

He walked out just before he began singing... the energy and sheer electricity that the crowd had worked up by this point was incredible. I felt my eyes well up and I couldn't help a couple of tears fall, do I regret crying at a Blind Guardian gig? No, I don't. It's something you have to experience to understand, and this was the first time it happened to me.

Into the Storm was sung in a hushed voice, kind of got to me a little bit, but I realised that during the solo Hansi walked to have a cup of tea and complained his ear piece wasn't working properly, once he'd finished the song he got another ear piece for the rest of the gig and all was well. Though I'm not sure whether or not this was a way to warm his voice up for the screams (every now and again he'd scream certain words and sentences), either way, it was an awesome song and the excitement I was feeling at this point? It was pretty difficult to feel let down.

After Into the Storm Hansi turned to the crowed and said: "Wow! It's great to finally be here in London! And it's only taken us 20 years!"... something about the accent I think... I don't know, but I couldn't stop laughing.

I can't remember when about it was (it's now the Saturday after the gig as I'm finishing this off, I was too tired to actually write it all the night I started) but the whole "Hail and Kill" thing? It was repeated. "BATTLE HYMNS! BATTLE HYMNS!", chanted a group of retarded Londoners. Hansi kind of looked a little at them and the confusion was apparent. He turned and said "I've no fucking idea what you're talking about" and laughed to himself.

The cheer I gave was incredible.

The laughter I gave was even better.

"We heard you guys singing this when we were backstage waiting to come on and we decided we couldn't rob you of this one."

Valhalla.

Anyway, Hansi made a mistake with Valhalla that I thought he wouldn't have dared attempt again... not since the Imaginations through the Looking Glass recording, anyway. It was a funny thing, but he did it anyway... he let us, the fans, sing the outro. You're a stupid man, Hansi. For the next ten to fifteen minutes all you heard was: "Valhalla! Deliverance! Why've you ever forgotten me?"... and I'm sure this happened through various points in the show, too.

It was around Nightfall when I realised something at the back of the stage, which was a lighting unit which had patterns and images being projected onto it, it really gave the mythical sense that you had entered a different world within the hall that this incredible music was being played in. On the bonus DVD of Imaginations Through the Looking Glass Hansi praised the Lighting engineer for adding an entirely different element to the show by doing the light show on the circular screen which was at a 45 degree angle on the top of the stage. He said it was a show inside a show... I laughed at the thought.

Then I seen this. At one point I turned to Izzy and said "I'm not sure what to watch. The band or the screen...". It was absolutely incredible. Valleys, faces, drawings... everything. It really did add a different twist to the show and I absolutely loved it. I swear to Odin, this was a night I could never forget. Even if I grow out of Metal, I think I'll still consider this the best concert I'm ever likely to witness. I wish I could see it again, truth be told.

The thing what really made me giggle was the fact that When Time Stands Still was played, we actually sang "At the AYE-RON hill". I thought it was hilarious.

The entire show was incredible, I honestly don't have the time to sing praises about the whole gig, I'll add to it now and then when stories come up, but I don't think I'll get all the details I want to get into it. All I know is that I waited five years for the best show I'm ever likely to see in my whole life, regardless of what may have went wrong, I doubt it would spoil the incredible night that was Tuesday the twenty sixth of September, twenty zero six.

It's now 25th November... and I've decided I couldn't rob any of you guys of a full, song-by-song review of the gig. That and I just don't want to forget the night, it was seriously that fucking awesome.

1 The War of Wrath

Already gone into.

2 Into the Storm

Already gone into. But, just for you faithful readers, I've decided it'd be best to elaborate.

I first heard this song on Imaginations Through the Looking Glass. I can't say I feel any less for the song, I still think it's incredible and even though it was sang in a foreign way, it felt more of a 'calm before the storm'. I don't care what anybody thinks, seeing these guys perform live is fucking amazing and seeing them perform a song any different from the way it was recorded is just another version of the song. Still incredible.

Something that struck me as kind of strange, actually. During the first guitar fill, Andre's guitar seemed to be turned right down, I mean, I couldn't actually hear the lead in to the solo, then on the second bar the wah pedal clicked in and I got a strange feeling... sort of like ejaculating all over somebody for the first time.

Needless to say, I apologised profusely as the man in question was rather big and scary.

3 Born in a Mourning Hall

"I will have to become melancholy for a while, BORN IN A MOURNING HALL!" ~ Hansi Kursch

One of my favourites from Imaginations from the Other Side for a long time after I managed to get a hold of the album. It was sang pretty much the same way as it was recorded, Hansi hit every note perfectly, I can't even think of something bad in this track. It was played so fucking tight it was unbelievable. Hansi really started hitting the high notes in this song and in comparison to Into the Storm? It was absolutely fuckin' awe inspiring.

4 Nightfall

"Now I know you are not cowards, so would you come with us into the land of Mordor and see what happens after Nightfall" ~ Hansi Kursch

This is a song I was dying to see, I had only just recently learned the lead to the entire track and was pretty hyped up to see it live. All I can say is it didn't disappoint and my throat is still in agony from singing it. This is when I first noticed the screen, and when I realised the work put into the light show alone. Travelling through valley's and every now and again a picture of (what I thought to be) Morgoth would show and dissolve in a variety of different ways. Sometimes it would burn, other times it would dissolve... truly incredible.

5 Fly

"This song is off the new album, A Twist in the Myth that some of you may have heard, some of you may have not. I would like to take you all on a journey... but you must... Fly" ~ Hansi Kursch

In all honesty? The only reason I wanted to see this song live was to see how it was played as I had just began tabbing it out at the time. Not like it mattered as I fucking forgot to watch the guitars. Still, it was an unexpected gem when it was played live. Though I wasn't too keen on the idea they had with the lighting show... "STOP!" then it would go into some tye-dye shit as a transition and then it would flash "BE QUIET NOW!", and so on, and so on.

6 Valhalla

"We heard you guys singing this when we were backstage waiting to come on and we decided we couldn't rob you of this one. VALHALLA!" ~ Hansi Kursch

The first ever guitar riff I learned by Blind Guardian, plus with my being Norse this song holds a special place in my heart for obvious reasons. I think something snapped when this was played... I just went completely apeshit. Swearing allegiance to Thor and such... seriously.

7 When Time Stands Still (At the Iron Hill)

"When Time Stands Still At the AYE-RON Hill, come on!" ~ Hansi Kursch playing with pronunciation.

Nothing much to say about this song other then the fact that the energy was kicking into hyper drive at this point. It felt as though the show had just started and I think we had all agreed that we would stay all night if that's what it would take to tire ourselves out. Great song to get us going, well, at this point it was more of 'keeping us going', not like it mattered - we were far from done. Though I couldn't stop laughing when I sang 'aye-ron'...

8 Script for my Requiem

"I have wrote many things in my time, songs, poems and scripts... and I would like to announce this is the Script for my! REQUIEM!" ~ Hansi Kursch

I remember this song being my fall back song for when I would fall out of love with Born in a Mourning Hall. Needless to say it quickly became my favourite. This was another song I was dying to see played live. Though I would have been happier if A Past and Future Secret was included on the set list somewhere... still, the night was only in it's teen's.

9 Bright Eyes

"Can we get the lights on the audience for a minute? No? Oh well, nothing we can do about it, I guess. Though I'd love to see all your shiny Bright... Eyes..." ~ Hansi Kursch

I don't know why I was so hyped up for this song; I think I would have preferred to hear Mordred's Song being played in its stead, but hey! I'm not fucking complaining! Mainly because Bright Eyes is a song that always struck a chord with me... though I've no idea why. Possibly because I think the eyes are the most seductive area on a human body... some subconscious thing, most likely. Again, Hansi fucking nailed this song. It was absolutely amazing to hear it, and again, I may have felt a lump forge in my throat.

10 This Will Never End

"The night is coming to a close, but I sincerely wish that This Will Never End!" ~ Hansi Kursch

I particularly enjoyed this song, mainly for egos sake. I'd just completed tabbing this song out and took great pride in realising how accurate I was becoming at tabbing. The second I heard this song when the album was leaked I turned to my cousin Dom and said: "Thank fuck these guys have done a song like this. I was so disappointed when I first heard Welcome to Dying on ITtLG to find the chorus was fast when I was expecting an almost slurge tempo.", and I always said it would be a great live song.

Not for the first time, I was right.

11 And Then There Was Silence

"That's the end of the show. I know, I know, there's nothing I can do about it, I'm afraid. We have to get to Dublin and it's a long trip! However! We do have one final gift for you. And Then There Was... Silence..." ~ Hansi Kursch

Holy... fucking... shit. The first album I ever got hold of by Blind Guardian was A Night at the Opera and I have to admit, this was the first song to really catch me and make me think: "Fuck me, this is awesome.". This song is really to thank for my love of this band and to see it live is only to be topped off by performing it with Blind Guardian (Not yet, unfortunately). There isn't anything I can really say about this song played live other than the disappointment I felt when me and Izzy happened to be the only audible people in the venue to sing "Iliad!" during the break in the chorus.

Then I did something stupid.

I believed it was the end of the show. I think I was a little nervous being in a foreign city and forgot everything I'd learned about gigs. Example: 10 songs isn't the end of the show - it's the beginning. The show isn't over until the lights come up and the crew disassemble the equipment.

I'm a fucking idiot.

12 Welcome to Dying

"Alright, alright. We do have a few more songs to play for you all. Welcome to! *crowd* DYING! *Hansi* I said: Welcome to! *crowd* DYING! *Hansi* What, you're not familiar with this one? WELCOME TO! *crowd* DYING! *Hansi* Welcome to dying!" ~ Hansi Kursch

Eh... well, this is one song I wasn't hyped up about. If you want to know why, look at This will Never End. Also, let's face it; Guardian have done much better songs than this... Majesty, for example... A Past and Future Secret... hint hint.

13 Another Stranger, Me

"This is the second single from A Twist in the Myth. Another Stranger... Me." ~ Hansi Kursch

Wow, this song is pretty incredible. I never really noticed it until it was shown live. Absolutely incredible, great riff, great vocals, great lyrics, great song. I then realised the lighting show was playing the video for the song... again, I was torn between the band and the screen. I ended up half heartedly focusing on the drums so I could see a bit of both.

Better than nothing, right?

14 Imaginations from the Other Side

"This really is the last song, guys. You've been a wonderful audience and it's been a great experience. Imaginations from the Other Side!" ~ Hansi Kursch

I was actually torn with this song. I was all hyped up for it... then I realised that I didn't really care that much... mainly because they hadn't played Majesty (Despite mine and Izzy's efforts to start a chat <_<). That and he tried to fool us again about the whole 'walk off' thing. Great song, though. Really made me appreciate the lengths these guys go too to make a song great... and believe me, they do it every fucking time.

Again, the night was still not over. The next song was in the back of our minds all the time, and yet it was kind of unexpected. One of the best experiences of my life was about to begin and I still didn't entirely expect it.

15 The Bards Song

"We know that this is a song you have been waiting for, and it's a song we've wanted to play for you for a long time. Let's sing The Bards Song..." ~ Hansi Kursch

This song... my god, I loved it. It's always going to be a crowd pleaser and it's always going to be a song that gives the Guardian's a chance to appreciate the fans and the love and commitment we all harbour for Blind Guardian. Hansi started us off: "Now we all know...", we followed suit. "The bards and their songs..." Hansi only chimed in with: "But the bards song still remains". I'll admit, I had tears rolling down my face and onto the people below singing this. It was one of those moments where I'd been waiting for it for the best part of five years, now I'm here, I'm singing the song, staring at two of my idols, in the company of my brothers of metal.

It was a solemn moment for me, and I'm sure the rest of the guys and girls in the hall too. We all sang it in unison. It wasn't over enthusiastic, it was just... beautiful. It was all in tune, all in harmony, I don't even think you could have picked out a single voice that stood out... it was just beautiful. Absolutely perfect. I can't even describe how it felt... it was just such a release, like having a pint of Guinness after a hard days work. Incredible. Hell, I'm getting shivers just thinking about those few minutes. I wish I could see it all over again.

It's also worth noting that Hansi stood with both hands on the microphone, held lightly over his heart, staring into the audience, into all the different tiers of the hall, into every fans eyes it felt... it looked as though he was about to break a silent tear of joy himself. Join the club, man, I've been crying for the past two minutes. It was incredible to see the appreciation the man had for his fans, I noticed at one point we had eye contact and I raised my fist to him. He smiled and nodded and gazed into the spot where me and Izzy was standing and then began singing again, then? Then he let us finish the song off.

Incredible man.

16 Mirror, Mirror

"It's been great playing with you all, or should I say playing for you all! *sniggers* I hope we can come back very soon and pay tribute to all you wonderful fans. Let us end the night on a high note, shall we? MIRROR, MIRROR ON THE WALL, COME ON!" ~ Hansi Kursch

Without doubt, we all knew the night had indeed drew to a close, and we didn't even care. This song gave us all the reason we needed to go completely. Fucking. Insane. Everything went all out, lights, the bands performance, our energy was boosted once again and we showed Hansi, Marcus, André, Fred, Oliver and the Keyboardist (Michael, is it?) exactly how much we cared for them and loved the music they were playing for us. My throat was raw after this, and I mean raw. I just let everything out. All I was holding back, and I just sang until I couldn't sing anymore.

By the time I (hesitantly) walked out of the venue, my voice was little more than a croak. I hung about outside the venue for a while waiting for my bloody ticket to be signed but Izzy reminded me of the time. I was either to go to his, get back to Victoria bus station to get home, or to spend the night sleeping rough on London's streets. I opted for home. I felt I was putting Izzy and his family out and besides... I had plenty of time to get to Victoria Coach Station! ...if I knew my way around the Cities streets, that was.

I bid adieu to the fans waiting outside the venue for the band and told one guy to tell Hansi that "The northern guy with no voice said: 'Thanks for an incredible night'.". Whether or not he did? I'm not likely to find out.

After fighting with the turnstiles in the tube me and Izzy decided it was best to buy another ticket. We raced down to the tube station. Izzy jumped on, I said 'farewell' and hung back - with no idea what the fuck I was doing, where the fuck I was going or anything. Turns out I could have got on the same tube... but, I ultimately didn't and got stranded. I had to change at Euston station I think it was... but where? There were six fucking different tubes leading off in different directions, which one I was to get on I had no idea, I asked a guy who told me that he'd been living in London all his life and not even he knew.

Shit.

I prayed to Odin to help me make a choice and I chanced a set of escalators going down. I was right, fortunately. It was around this time the battery on my phone died... oh shit. I got to Victoria tube and fucking ran through the train station. About four flights of escalators to get there, I might add. Anyway, I realised that when dark, London is a whole different city. I asked one man... one man who was walking down a street (I was expecting to get the shit kicked out of me, to be honest, but I swallowed my pride) directions to the coach station. He turned to me and said "...You're a Geordie, aren't you?".

I've never been so glad to hear the Geordie accent in my entire fucking life.

"Yeah, I'm from Newcastle. Live in Walker... well, the boundaries have changed so technically I live in Byker.". He pointed me out, shook hands and we went our separate ways. You have to realise that I was getting quite distressed by this point. I didn't want to sleep on the streets of London under any circumstance and it was now 11:28... that leaves me with less than two minutes to run half a mile to get to the coach station in order to get the coach home... I knew I was fucked but hope is the saviour of all.

I prayed when I ran. Odin, Thor, Freyr... anybody who would listen to me. I wanted to get on the bus, sleep and get home, possibly even make it in time for college the next morning.

Alas... it wasn't to be. I missed the coach by a minute. One fucking minute. I was pretty upset by this point, as you could imagine. Damn near hysterical, admittedly. I decided to phone somebody, I turned my phone on long enough to extract three numbers from it... then it died. I went to the shop bought some provisions for the night and proceeded to call my mother... who realised how panicked I was and decided to try and calm me down. She wanted to know if she should tell Alex (My girlfriend). I naturally deterred her from the idea as the last thing I'd want to do was to make her lose sleep worrying about me. I was ushered out of the station as it was about to be locked up and I prepared for the night in the streets.

NOTE: Usually I would pull an all nighter but that would equal 48+ hours without sleep and I hadn't went that long without sleep in years.

I spent about an hour on the phone to my mother, trying to calm myself down. Eventually I prayed to Thor, and found the power to help me cope with what I was faced with. I told my mam I'd be fine and that there were people getting ready to doss down in the station so I was to do the same and that I'd be fine... the usual bullshit you spurt out of your spammer when you know you're in for a rough night.

I climbed behind the safety reservations (big red bars to stop the coaches from going straight through the windows of the station) where I would be partially obscured from view and set up camp as it were. There was a guy who had travelled from a different country to see the band (which shocked me, but he gets full respect for it) who I had noticed at the gig. I fell asleep and when I woke I woke to find him sitting about a foot away from my head. We started talking for a bit (as much as I could talk for having a couple of hours sleep, at this point I'd been without sleep for about 36 hours, so I was pretty fucked).

"Enjoy your sleep?"

"Heh, yeah. As a matter of fact I did."

Now, the sole reason I mention this guy is because I felt I was a bit rude to him. I was blunt, and a general twat. Every now and again I would turn to him and sharply demand he told me the time. Of course, it wasn't said in a nasty way, it was just because I was absolutely fucking buggared. I was barely awake and I'd like to say this now: If you ever come across this and remember me, leave a comment with your email addy and we'll get talking, dude. It was good to have some form of company even if it was just for a little while.

I felt I knew this guy for years, and I wish I'd have been a little more polite and social with him. He began talking about how with him coming from a different country certain accents in England were difficult for him to understand. I can't even remember my answer that well... this is how tired I was. I turned to him and said something like "Yeah, I know how you mean. See, I'm from up north so I'm classified as a 'Geordie' but I've trained myself to talk reasonably well because I talk to a lot of foreign people." and I went on a little tangent... but I can't remember for the fucking life of me what the hell I said. It worries me because this guy didn't actually talk to me at all after I went back to sleep (after I went searching for somewhere to take a piss).

Anyway, the wait went on and when I finally got home the feeling was incredible. Passing over the Tyne Bridge I felt such... well, pride, I suppose. All I could think about was: "Yeah... I'm home." and I grinned to myself. Then I definitely knew I was home when I got off the coach to find a comatose piss head lying under the seats with his can of XXX lager still in his hand. I realised that I was back in Newcastle even more when I got on the bus back home and found myself and another bloke (student at Newcastle Uni) pissing ourselves laughing at some woman randomly telling people on the bus about her 'troubled life'. We both began playing our incredibly small violins and in perfect synchronisation began playing the world’s saddest song.

So that's it. The best day of my life. It shall be remembered by the coach tickets, the ticket stub and the pigeon shit that stained my bag and that still covers part of my leather jacket.

And I'd do it all again.

I've heard of 'revenge' and 'avenging death' but this is taking the piss. (21/09/06)

2007-06-21T13:13:00.001+01:00

So, we all know that Steve Irwin died via Stingray while snorkelling etc. We've seen the tribute to Steve Irwin and we've seen the memorial. It's over, it's done with, the guy is dead. I understand it's difficult to comprehend, believe me, I was in tears watching both the tribute and memorial. Especially when I saw Bindi stand up and speak about her dad, that made the silent tears of emo trickle, I'll tell you.

Long story short is he's dead. Now shut up about it and get on with your life.

Of course, I don't want to believe it... but why is it that people are going snorkelling in order to kill the Stingrays by cutting off their barbs? If that's how life works, I hope I get killed by a Mackam! Or perhaps a really annoying person... like... a Frenchman. The woman I can deal with, well, I can deal with them when they don't speak Frog.

Seriously, though. You're killing animals because one animal killed a human... in self defence. Jesus, no offence intended here, but if I was a Crocodile or a Shark or even a Stingray and saw Steve Irwin swimming towards me? I'd do the self same thing! I would say: "Oh for fuck sakes... sod it, he dies now." then stab him. Nah, only kidding, I'd probably just injure him.

People really need to get a sense of reality nowadays. Say Person A kills Person B, right? Then Person C kills Person D in order to avenge Person B's death. Is that right? No, it's just bloody stupid! I mean, it's not like they can say: "OH, HEY! THERE'S THE STINGRAY THAT KILLED STEVE IRWIN, LET'S KILL IT AND LAUGH AT IT AND COPULATE WITH IT'S CORPSE HAHAHA!", can they? No. No, they can't.

I can't actually say this has any point or punch line, but I can say that this topic has been getting on my tits for a couple of days (but I've been unable to type it because my incredible new wireless keyboard doesn't work properly!). Seriously, people need to stop being so bloody stupid and kill themselves to avenge the deaths of countless defenceless animals.

...

So, if a Mackam or a Frogman kills me, you can't kill the Mackam or the Frogman because they're defenceless animals... but you can call it 'social cleansing' and relieve some of the guilt.

Now I'm no marine biologist... (hell, I don't even know how to spell it, I'm just taking pot luck!) so I'm not sure whether or not it kills the animals outright (I should imagine they'd bleed to death), but I'm almost certain the barb is there to kill fish... therefore they can't feed. If the cutting of the barb (it does sound like some sick ceremonial thing...) doesn't kill them, I'm sure they'd starve to death... unless they evolved to feed on plankton and other such crap that floats around the sea (Mackams, Frogmen etc.).

Just grow the fuck up and stop killing animals because they killed a television presenter. Yes, it's sad but it doesn't give anybody reason to kill, for the love of Odin! He'd be sitting up Croc-Heaven screaming at you fuckers because you're killing something he loved.

He's dead, deal with it. Stop killing fish and grow up.