All entries for Thursday 23 June 2005

June 23, 2005

ten posts in one day?

falls back in chair exhausted

a bit of an in–joke…

i doubt it!


okay, firstly, look at this.

is there any need – any need – for a festival called 'big gay out'?

my god.

what the hell does this mean?

talking of which, i also received this a couple of weeks ago.

Follow-up to look at this crap i just received in my email from Talking Behind the Psychic's Back

A plea from a sick little girl

Little Kimberly Anne is dying of a horrible tropical disease. Her goal,

before she passes into the Great Beyond, is to collect as many free America

Online disks as she can, to make the Guiness Book of Records. Her project

is being sponsored by the Wish-Upon-a-Star Foundation, which specializes in

fulfilling the final wishes of such sick little girls.

So, next time you get an unwanted AOL disk in the mail, don't throw it away!

Think of the sparkle it will bring to the eye of a dying child.


look at this crap i just received in my email

* *

* * *

* * * *

* How far *

* Is near, *

* And how near *

* Is far? *

* If you're *

* Looking up now *

* We see *

* The same *

* Star. *

* * * *

* * * —Jack Piatt

* *

When you have received this letter you have to keep it. This is
a love game played since 1887. You must copy this and give it to 7
friends within 5 days. On the fifth day drink a glass of water and say the
first and last name of a boy or girl and within 5 days he or she will ask
out or say "I love you". This is no joke. It has worked for years. If
you break this chain, you will have bad luck with boys or girls.

some of my favourite useless online tat

for those of you wishing to erode some of that hard brain crust following the exams, check out this website:

absolutely useless games and tat

or there's always

or why not adopt a useless blob? i did.

Adopt your own useless blob!

having said that…

Follow-up to general misanthropy from Talking Behind the Psychic's Back

the sun is making me smile and WSAF is awesome.

fucking warwick.

general misanthropy

well now.
what is the reason, i hear you cry, for my awareness that my heart is beating overly quickly and for the fact that i will probably need to go outside soon and start a dangerous new habit by smoking a box of cuban cigars?
the reason, you hear me reply, is warwick bastard parking.
now, what is the need for several spaces to be cordoned off without apparent reason – for example, the entire health centre road, which will doubtless be of wonderful help to those attempting to move their stuff out of halls? what is the need for the sports centre car park to be constantly populated by a drone army of girls with stupid mullets, senselessly walking up and down dangling keys but never reaching a car? what is the need for the man who finally, reluctantly agrees that i can have the space which he is about to vacate - how kind - to then proceed to lean idly against his car wearing his stupid fucking raybans and shouting into his stupid mobile fucking phone about how much petrol his BMfuckingW is eating up as he drives endlessly back and forth between the squash courts and his home, which is probably in tocil anyway, the lazy bastard. and what is the need for my car, in absence of the power steering promised to me by honest fucking gary, yes guv it's got power steering no problem guv, to be about as easy to fit into one of those pissy sports centre car parking spaces as the exxon fucking valdez?


the continuing adventures of cous cous mcnab

cous cous mcnab was walking his pet mouse one day. he stumbled upon a load of really grim bin bags that smelled like piss, and he could hear a baby crying somewhere in the distance. 'that's so leamington', he thought to himself, happily. then, all of a sudden, cous cous mcnab found himself a really hot girlfriend, and they went to watch 'sin city' together which was totally awesome.

you get me, rube? ah? ah?


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