Walking with Maddie

'Twas a brisk, crisp afternoon, when Mark first crossed my transom. I remember I was drinking a can of Special Brew Lite with its lid half-removed, the label peeling in the early spring sunlight. He was a god in human form, an Adonis in tramp form, a...a...a Mark.

Well, what can I say?

Obviously very little. I remember that it was a Tuesday, the week before England trounced Sierra Leone in the international Hula Hoop Championships. I was drinking Baileys from a shoe. He was indestructible.

And the sex was amazing.

Later, having slept on a bed, fully clothed together, we talked. Talked, that is, not ranted, shouted, disputed, or otherwise suggested we might have been the most eloquent couple ever to grace the Oxford scene. We talked.

And we thought, maybe, just maybe...

But no.

Or yes?

But no.

I was drinking a Fosters Ice. He was a young love god in a room painted beige on that Thursday in October 1995. How did this happen? How does anything? It was just one of those things.

Say what you will about Mark. Go on. Say what you will about Mark. He was the first person to break my bed.

Fin.

Bored now...

Huntley "saner than I am" says judge

After hearing evidence from Medical Examiner Col Hubert Tubert, the judge avenging the deaths of Soham's Roses said that Ian Huntley was completely sane.

Justice Anthony Burbage said: "The act of taking two young girls and butchering them horribly without apparent motive is a supremely sensible one. If more people behaved like this there would be fewer teenage pregnancies, and fewer young people smacked out of their tiny crack-pans on cocaine e-balls stealing gloves to feed their insane habits. I entirely commend Mr Huntley on his eminently rational attitude to life.

"It really is a shame, when a great country like ours, ruined and doistered by years of the Nanny State, has to look to people like Mr Huntley for an example. I anticipate withhorror the day on which our English paedophiles, hooligans and vigilantes are treated like common criminals." In the rest of his four-hour rant the judge's comments included: "Why this man's so sane he makes Hitler look a bit mad!" and "Nurse! It's happened again!"

Justice works. Think of the children.

Read more here

I am such a rubbish at this blog malarkey

I've never got the hang of quite how this is meant to be done. Just so I'm straight on a few things: people without real friends sit, calcifying their retinas with each moment they spend gazing into the blank radiation of a computer screen, thinking that their observations, or pain, or poor attempts at humour are something the whole world is lacking? Do these people really imagine that people across the world rush home from work every day in order to discover which other girl they spent half an hour looking at in a coffee shop the other day as she failed to notice, until she was distinctly unimpressed by their "Programmers do it all night long, preferably with a can of Jolt and a huge amount of downloaded pornography" T-shirt?

I don't care. I just don't give even the slightest iota of a scintilla of a shit. Ream me sideways with a screwdriver if I ever think that what I really need to do with my life is find out, in 5000 words, why a teenager in Idaho thinks Korn rule, or who else is going in Carina's Book of People I Really Hate (vol. 7).

Not only is it offensive to my sensibilities, but it's physically embarrassing how shameless these people are. Just the words "I found something out today" bring me out in hives and send my skin scuttling off my back and into the corner. People are meant to have secrets.

You're not that interesting. Your impotence, your failure to relate to people who exist in a world you loathe having to deal with except to get groceries and cream for your bed-sores, your fucking awful, tawdry, banal little lives are not worth sharing.

Your pain isn't special, your jokes are almost invariably borrowed from Eddie Izzard, and the sheer self-obsession you display every time you decide to write another entry in $t@rFairy'$ Diary! makes you an utterly unlovable human bring, and a waste of perfectly good pixels.

Now, fuck off.

Yes, I am well aware of the irony inherent in this rant. You're still not clever.

Art

Little bit of politics, ladies and gennelmen...

Cheating bloody Normans

I Love Visual Gags

(hint: Fuck off, it's easy...)

My favourite book

Dead Fly edges out Chirac and Le Pen!

In a startling development in France's tortuous presidential election process yesterday, a dead fly beat both Jacques Chirac and far-right candidate Jean Le Pen to become head of state in the ailing democracy. In one of the closest-fought battles in France's electoral history, the dead fly edged out the other candidates, receiving only one vote more than either of the others.

The pivotal voter in this election, Jean-Bertrand Robespierre from Nimes, said of his crucial vote: "Hee-haw heehaw heehaw-heehaw. Heehaw heehaw heehaw. Fauteuil."

It is believe that the dead fly received the deciding vote, when he became lodged under the heel of M Robespierre's hand whilst crawling across the ballot paper on Monday. A spokesman for the beleaguered Frenchman said: "M Robespierre did not go to the polling station with the intention of voting, but, due to the amount of cheap, red wine he had consumed between his morning croissants and brushing his teeth, accidentally marked the page whilst stumbling through the polling booth.

"The fact that this mark quite clearly appears next to the dead fly attached to the paper in no way indicates M Robespierre's approval of the aforesaid candidate, nor should it be taken to be an indication of any willingness on his part to participate in the system of parliamentary democracy.

"M Robespierre's family have a long tradition of not-voting, and he would just like to apologise to the people of Nimes and to the people of France itself for any distress that may be caused by his inadvertently voting in such a flagrant and reprehensible manner." A government spokesman called his posting a ballot slip "a gross and horrible traducement of France's traditions of apathy and voter disregard for the realities of the world".

In other news, the French public were ousted as the electorate by a weasel. The French were ruled 'unfit to govern', and promptly organised a piss-up in a brewery.

France is made of green cheese.

Read more here...