Archive for January, 2012

Top Ten Status Updates

I was looking through my old Farcebook status updates – these were my top ten, in no particular order. Please help yourselves, and feel free to add some of your own in the comments section, I am sure to use them:

  • “will be as faithful to you as a dog and come every time you whistle”
  • “is bigger on the inside”
  • “remembers the time you ate his goldfish”
  • “wanted to unleash a deadly computer virus on you all but couldn’t master the technology – would you mind manually deleting all the important files from your hard drive please and pass this on to fifty of your friends?”
  • “is why they put a warning on the box”
  • “knows where you live”
  • “doesn’t understand why the cat was in the bag in the first place”
  • “says the first law of thermodynamics is that we don’t talk about thermodynamics”
  • “is proof that ancient man mated with neanderthals”
  • “bought some batteries, but they weren’t included”

The real world vs Farcebook

A little while back, I was temporarily barred from Farcebook. It was a very strange experience, as I generally spend most of my life there. The way it works is quite strange – you can still access your account, whilst barred, and see what all your friends are up to but you cannot join in – any attempt to post or comment is met with a swift rebuke from the Fartbook police and a threat of an extended ban. I felt like a naughty child, forced to stand in a corner whilst everybody else played.

Anyway I decided, that, rather than sit there and sulk, I would go and see if there was still such a thing as the real world… and guess what? There is: it is called Twitter.


A pan – another attempt at poetry

Think of youself – as a pan of water,
And me as the fire – of the stove underneath.
Softly I lick you – slowly, you feel
Little ripples of heat – scampering through you.

The window wide open – and cold morning air
Wafts gently across you – in icy contrasts.
The heat growing stronger – rising up through you,
You roll like an ocean – in long slow convulsions.

Bubbles now swarming – through you and up you
Stinging and bursting – on your surface in gasps.
The bubbles now grow – in size and in number,
You pop and you fizzle – and writhe and spit steam

You rise up again – you have no control
And you spill and you burst – out of the pan
In long, thick cascades – screaming my name,
You fizz and you gurgle – and froth down the sides.

We lie there quite still – just trembling slightly,
I am extinguished – and you are quite empty.
Somebody calls – from a kitchen somewhere,
“Mum has forgotten – to turn the stove off again!”


Your god is too small for my universe

I was looking this  great post,  Why wearing glasses on For your amusement when i came across this wonderful picture:

Thanks Kim.


Seven more things

  • i am a writer and a designer and a developer and a layabout
  • i have been a cartoonist and a soldier and a web designer
  • i have been a teacher, an addict and a street fundraiser
  • i live in london but spend most of my time in facebook
  • i like to do voluntary work and australian women
  • i have had radio plays broadcast and a book on programming published
  • i like to type in lower case because it is easier to masturbate when you don’t have to use the ‘shift’ key

Versatile Blogger Awards

It seems I missed the point of the versatile blogger award thingy… I need to write seven things about myself and nominate 15-20 other bloggers. This will be difficult as there are only six things I know about myself and every blog I follow is too good not to nominate.

Ok, seven things about me:

  1. I have a tiny penis.
  2. I have not had a drink in nearly five years.
  3. I do not support Arsenal.
  4. I have a thing for Australian women.
  5. They do not have a thing for me.
  6. I like sad stories
  7. I do not know seven things about myself

Here are my nominees for the versatile blogger award – in no particular order .


This century will belong to women

It struck me today, a rather sad little conclusion… men are not very good at a lot of things. We are good at beating our chests and scaring off demons, but that is about it. You got a demon you want scaring off?  Call a bloke.

This century will belong to women, at least I hope it will. There will be fewer wars and fewer unnecessary deaths. Men have had their time, and in my opinion, have done a good job of it all but now it should be the girl’s turn. In my experience, women make better bosses than men, they understand people better.

to becontinued…


The future of love

It is the year 2132 and in a quiet suburban classroom a teacher gves an old lecture to some new students. “A hundred years ago”, she explains “people used to think that being in love was perfectly normal, in fact, society even celebrated it and held ceremonies called ‘marriages’ in its honour”. She writes some of these words on the board, to emphasise them and the children giggle and whisper amongst themselves at words like ‘love’ and ‘marriage’. Love is such a ridiculous concept in the 22nd century. The teacher drones on about how love clouded the judgement of those caught in its grasp, about how it deluded those that it consumed and about how, today, drugs were put in the water supply to prevent such afflictions, how, today, everyone could be free of such nonsense. Danny looks across at Suzie, he thinks she is sweet, he should probably tell someone about how he is feeling, it cannot possibly be normal. She looks back at him and smiles. “In the past”, explains the teacher, “people would decide who they wanted to spend their lives with, based on their feelings.” the class erupts with laughter at this. He sends her a txt, “i<3u”, knowing full well he could be expelled for such an act. She sends one back, “u2x”, something happens in his pants that he is certain he should report to the school nurse. “Romance needs to be calculated to be productive,” explains the teacher, and the class nod in undivided agreement. “Imagine,” says the teacher, “if everyone just went off with someone because they thought they fancied them.” Everyone smiles and nods again, except for Danny and Suzie, who are just looking at each other. He wants to press his mouth against hers without understanding why and despite what he has learnt in hygiene class. He wants to press his mouth against far less hygienic parts of her than her mouth. Later he tries to explain all this to the nurse. She is old and kind and very sweet, she explains the solution to his troubles, it is called castration, it is a very simple procedure and she can perform it now if he agrees. She smiles, he smiles back and nods.


Thank you

I would like to thank Eric for nominating me for the versatile blogger award.


Mind Over Matter

Phil Miller’s In Cahoots’s latest album, Mind Over Matter, has now been released and can be found on Phil’s site. There are samples of every track, so give it a whirl, I’m sure you’ll like.

Album cover and site by yours truly.