As I got ready for work this morning after a poor night's sleep I noticed that the light in the practice room had a strangely attractive purpleness about it. So I resolved to take a photo of Fric Bass's guitar. Drawing the curtain back to let in more light I managed to tear the whole rail from the wall. Reasoning that I had better hurry up and get to work I took the photo and hurried off. Now I have a nice bit of re-attachment waiting for me when I get home.
I have found this site and it made me so happy in a sad way I thought I would share it with you:
The Urban Beast Project
In other news: after the Vatican announced that Limbo was all made up I have had to cancel the 351 package tours to visit the unbaptised babies howling in the twilight that I had sold to some Japanese businessmen. I'm a bit lost as to what to do since I have no money to refund them. Maybe I can sell package tours to people who want to see angry Japanese businessmen trying to get a refund from a fraudulent package holiday sales-person. Of course I gave out Jonathan Ross's telephone number as the enquiry line. I'll get away with it, I'm sure.
Ring ring:
Jonathan Ross: Woss wesidence.
Irate Japanese Businessman: I want a wefund!
Jonathan Ross: A wefund? For what do you wequire a wefund?
Irate Japanese Businessman: For wot? For wot? You know full well for wot? You sell me holiday to see dead babies and now there are no dead babies to see!
Jonathan Ross: I did no such thing. But can I interest you in a wecreational wowing holiday on the Whine?
Irate Japanese Businessman: Keep talking.
18 comments:
Day three of your 'post a day' thing and you're doing well.
If your craze for guerilla redecoration (viz: pulling curtain rails down) continues in line with the craze for posting, perchance by this time next week you'll be standing looking bemused amongst the rubble of your recently demolished home clutching your toothbrush in one hand and your willy in the other whilst trying to explain to the nice policeman why you are effectively stark bollock naked in the street.
Again.
Can I point out the obvious problem with being the band's photographer whilst also being 50% of the band?
Unless you have an abundance of mirrors in the practice room you effectively have an album cover that's made up of lots of pictures with titles like "Band member with bass # 202" or "Band member with percussion # 200453.6"
I'll leave it to you to work out how you can get 0.6 of a photo.
I'd offer my services as band photographer, but me and my camera aren't on speaking terms anymore after it took a picture of my bad side.
If you fancy the job Sir Moose it's yours.
I'd offer my services but:
1) I live over 260 miles away and haven't got a matter transporter;
2) I can't be arsed;
3) I have no hands;
4) I have no camera;
5) Me speakee no English.
(3 of the above excuses may be untrue for security reasons).
I'm not sure you could handle colour photography either, since you live OOP NORTH where everything is the colour of coal and tears and rickets.
Black and white is moodier anyway.
And you do want to be moody, don't you?
Do I? I'm not sure any more. A combination of black and white, colour and sepia pictures would be nice, all sorts of things.
I can't do moody anyway, I just look like I have trapped wind.
Nice to see the seventies never went away. Where would we be without the comedy chinaman? "Me speakee no English". Tha's velly funny, yoo funny man, me go sell wife on interweb pornsite, no, you si'down, me velly solly, me vellyllellylaloo91486319712 an' a banana flitter.
I despair, I really do.
Quite. A point beautifully made, your rapier like sarcasm never sharper Mr Satoriwhateverthefuckyou'recalledtoday-pod.
I may have been being ironic.
Or not.
I can't tell myself these days...
Oh, so I have "rapier-like" sarcasm do I? Oh, that is SUCH a COMPLIMENT. I feel REALLY FLATTERED. Heh, heh, heh.
Honestly, i'm so funny I imagine myself in a highly coloured clown outfit with huge pom-poms and stuff.
I think I made a poor point poorly. Do you know why I got a bit feisty at the COMEDY CHINAMAN? It's that Little Britain bollocks and the hugely un-PC Ting Tong character. Mind you, the whole thing is absolute shite; I hated programmes like Dick Emery and Benny Hill even when I was a kid, and that L/Britain programme is its vile spawn.
That is the story of the psychology behind my seeing red at any hint of the comedy chinaman.
I'm sure that H the B's comment was of the purest irony (whatever irony actually is).
On a more important note; SATORI ARE REALLY BRILLIANT!!!!!!!!!!
Ahh, the sweet irony.
or
Agghhhhh! The sweet irony.
Little britain is the retarded child of the League of Gentleman and the Fast show.
The person who sits next to me at work loves Little Britain and Ting Tong especially funny. He has a variety of other distasteful views as well. Of all the gay Catholics I have met he is the most intolerant.
That said when I watched the first episode of the new series where the two immensly fat women started fighting in their towels and then got naked and rolled around on the floor rubbing their giant fat-lady latex breasts together I found the sketch not only incredibly funny but also erotically charged in a way that seemed somehow forbidden.
I felt like I was watching two fat ugly hookers rolling around who had cost me a portion of the £126 I have paid out to a complete tosser who has no interest in entertaining me in the slightest, only in taking my money and telling me I should get digital TV.
Radio 4 is good though.
Although it would be wrong to imply that a retarded child is a bad thing. I'm sure they can also be loved; in the way that you would love, for example, a pet or a particularly nice chair but covered in drool.
Hang on, I'm a retarded child and I can be loved! Jeebus loves me, this I know because the Bobble tells me so. Little ones to him belong, they are weak and he is wrong.
Yeeeeaaaaaaasssss Jeebus loves meee
Yeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaass Jeebus loves meeee
Yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaassssssaaahh Jeebus loves me
The Bobble told me sooooooo.
I feel that a debate concerning eugenics would certainly be appropriate here. There are certain segments of society that, and I should not mince words, contribute little to the health of the state (or "folk", or "folk-state", or "folk-rock", or "indie-folk-crossover").
I would posit the view that groups such as the Swansea Songwriters Guild, Rehearsal room owners, The cast of Little Britain and all musicians under the age of twenty five contribute nothing in terms of the maintenance and progress of the species and therefore may be eliminated from the equation of existence.
Some may say that this is a radical view but I heard someone in the pub say the very same thing only recently (except that she was talking about dentistry).
In between my busy job as an eugenics doctor I am employed as a waiter where I can confirm that I only ever act under orders.
I met a comedian who had the same views when it came to comedians. When he told me I asked if he was joking, he said no, he only joked when he was being paid and he didn't see me handing him a wedge of crisp tenners, so I should fuck off.
I asked him again if he was joking and he said that he only joked for cash and I was not giving him any cash so I should still be fucking off.
Again I asked him if he was joking and he grabbed me by the neck, slapped my about the face and bellowed that he was a professional comdedian who only told jokes when he was working and when he was working he worked for money and as I had given him no money he would under no circumstances be joking. He then told me to fuck off, again.
I said that I did not find his act very funny and wanted my money back. He asked me if I was joking and I said yes I was, you owe me £50.
A bum tish.
Yes, I was being ironic.
By the way, in 'real' life Pitt the Younger favoured port, not brandy.
True.
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