Daddy, why is ... #1

Aluminum or aluminium? If, like me, this question keeps you up at night, scratching your arms feverishly [UNTIL THEY BLEED] and babbling incoherently [THE 'I' IS WATCHING US] like an impression of a demented Hobbit trapped in a razor-wire factory [IT WANTSES TO HURT US]---scratch and babble no more, for the answer is at hand.

http://www.world-aluminium.org/history/language.html

Springfield USA

Complete map of Springfield, including The Pay & Park & Pay, Chinatown (including Toys'L'Us), Much Ado About Muffins and Señor Ding-Dongs Doorbell Fiesta.

http://www.mapofspringfield.com/map/index.html

Best Chain Email Ever

I don't normally send chain letters but this one, unlike ALL the others, definitely WORKS.

Just send this email on to everyone you know, be they friend or foe, within 2 MINUTES of receiving it, and I guarantee that the INTERNET WILL GET SLOWER for you and everyone in your workplace, college, residential area or institution. You have to send to everyone you know including all mailing lists, OTHERWISE IT WON'T WORK. Send it on right now and watch the Internet slow to a crawl, becoming a less satisfying EXPERIENCE FOR EVERYONE.

It REALLY works!!!

Bubble Pop Electric

http://www.therightfoot.net/mystuff/whatever/swf/bubblewrap.swf

Murder and Misogyny

Watched The Bone Collector on tv. I reckon about 1 in 10 of the population would be serial killers if only they could think of a cool enough theme.

So far I've got:

1) the let-my-pet-monkey-sniff-your-crotch-or-else murders

2) death by being pushed off a gangway and falling backwards into a large stainless steel vat of pepper, mustard or other condiment and drowning in it while sneezing a lot

3) The Impatient Fibonacci Film-Buff Killer---stabbing the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 5th, 8th, 13th, 21st ... person ahead of you in the queue for the cinema

4) snowy hilltop murders with getaways inspired by otherwise totally impractical Winter Olympics events

5) kidnapping, torturing, killing and eating anyone who gets in the way of Kat and Alfie being together

6) murders based on the pet peeves of The New York Times' regular Op-Ed columnists (includes falling into the Trading Gap, getting shot by a legally purchased assault rifle and being killed by the underlying causes of the Arab-Israeli conflict)

7) poisoning one of Jessica Fletcher's nephews, then shooting an old friend of Jonathan and Jennifer Hart, then running one of Father Dowling's parishioners off the road, etc.

8) murders using gadgets requiring progressively bigger batteries, from AAA up to D (and maybe beyond)

9) The Sexually Frustrated Kelloggs Variety Pack Cartoon Character vs Young Woman Jogging Alone In The Park Murders (They're Grrreat!)

and

10) a murder for each known Lanthanide and Actinide in the periodic table (though I'm struggling for a despicably brilliant way to kill someone with Gadolinium)


In other news, from b3ta.com---if the world were designed for women:

car dashboard

chat lines

Counterstrike

street map

movie subtitles

The Weblog in Black

My brother got a new Johnny Cash CD and I thought I'd make mp3s of it.

I just burned Ring of Fire.

One day Manson stepped in doo-doo

Moanin' Ronan is an angry young man. So are a lot of us. Who's fault is it?

Other People's, that's who.

Other People push us, and push us, until one day we just shoot a Republican Lawyer in the face. And it's not our fault. When we shout "Duck" they aren't supposed to shout back "No, Quail". They're supposed to get out of our way.

If Other People got out of our way, life would be super. But they don't listen. So we must build them their own footpaths, buses and ATM queues. Their own football stadia and U2 concerts. Their own streets, their own offices, their own cities. In short, we need to build Cork, and make Other People live there.

Two Balls and Three Strikes*

So I think I need some new chat-up lines. Even the very best of the previous bunch scored me a big duck egg (it ended messy).

For comparison, here are some of the oldies. Guy strides nonchalantly up to cute girl and says:

1) Would you like to pee on me? 'Cos I'd sure like to pee on you.

2) Have you ever seen a dead body? 'Cos I've got one back at my place ...

3) People ask me if I'm a serial killer. And I say, yes: if pregnant women count double.

4) And this is a picture of my sister. Yeah, she's fifteen. I have one of her jumpers here. Would you ... wear it for me?

5) Hey, baby. You wanna be in my weblog?


For the new chat-up lines, I am going to use the power of celebrity. Movie stars never have any problems getting women. Not even the 5'3" gay scientologist ones.

1) The Brando: I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse.

2) The Schwarzenegger: I'll be back with the drinks.

3) The Chaplin: (falls head over heels)

4) The Bela Lugosi: I vant to suck your

5) The Pacino: Say hello to my little friend.



*baseball reference no one will quite understand #1

Headline Shown in Bigger Letters

Headline in The Onion: Letter D Pulls Sponsorship From Sesame Street

(It's all part of the Vast D-Wing Conspiracy)


Headline in The Irish Catholic: Ireland Tipped to Get New Cardinal

(Altogether: Olé, olé olé olé ...)


Headline on bbc.co.uk: Soccer star in teen assault probe

(Guess where the firefox tab cut the headline)

I said I'm on the cup. Can you hear of?

Body had worked hard all week, and if was gagging for a home night out. If got the cup and was in town half am hour later. If and his friends Logo and Mask net at the pub at fight o'clock and ordered tired shots of Guinness. Tidy waited for the shots to settle afford drinking then. Then tidy say her---the most loudly cloned tidy had ever redo. Logo plucked us the courage to ask her to logo then. Pie was so mice tidy couldn't believe it.

At closing vine, body paid if thought pie was the attest damned thing if had ever laid eyes on. Pie invited gin back to hers for roof coffee. If was go. If hadn't had sew go ages. If was glad if hadn't had too much beds.

Pie took her arc off, then her see panther. "Duck of", if paid. If was in heaven. The next fax if just went around with a huge grim on his face. When asked, if paid it were yell spores.

So it turns out a lot of people were gay*

Michelangelo & Leonardo. Shakespeare, Tchaikovsky, Tolstoy. Marlon Brando. Maria Schneider. Marilyn Chambers. Plato, Aristotle, Alexander the Great. (Most of the Ancient Greeks; come to think of it, it's a wonder there are any Modern Greeks). Shakespeare, Allen Ginsberg, Somerset Maugham. Isaac Newton. J. Edgar Hoover and Eleanor Roosevelt (not together). Even Harvey Fierstein.

Certainly true in some cases. But I don't think all of those people were gay. I think there is one gay historian going around claiming people.

Don't get me started on people who insist on calling God 'She'.


*not that there's anything wrong with being Tom Cruise. I mean gay.

Is it too late to claim I knew the Arctic Monkeys before anyone else?

Today's post: wherein the weblog descends into a repository for thoughts not worth saying to actual people. I'm guessing about 60% of weblogs are really just diaries, and you could totally freak people out by actually reading what they wrote and calling them on it.

1) If I was happy-slapped by a slapper, I would not be very happy.

2) The blue pill reminds me to take the blue pill. Aww man, I'm running out of blue pills.



Nextly of all, there follows a list of things which get my goat and slap his beautiful face:

1) People who use the word 'decimate' incorrectly.

2) People who order a panini, or even two paninis. There follows Italian Grammar for Dummies:

masc. sing. noun ending: 'o' - as in "I'd like a tall cappuccino please"
masc. pl. noun ending: 'i' - as in "I'd like two panini please"
fem. sing. noun ending: 'a' - as in "Monica Bellucci è una bella ragazza"
fem. pl. noun ending: 'e' - as in "Le ragazze sono con me. Capisci?"

3) The dude's name was Michelangelo, pronounced Mi-kel-AN-jel-oh (more).

In case there really is "someone out there", there follows this and this from a thing called Digitiser.

Now the movie is a play

So yesterday I found out three things I want to share with you.

1) The difference between the Grammy for Record of the Year and Song of the Year is that the former goes to the artist, engineer and producer, while the latter goes to the composer. In other words, the RotYA rewards performance/recording and the SofYA rewards composition. One day this knowledge will win me a booby prize. I hope booby prize is what I think it is.

If I won a Grammy I would list all the people I didn't want to thank. Like YOU, you parasitic SKANK. Write your own crap.

2) The word 'perks' is short for 'perquisites'. As in, my new job pays badly, but the perquisites are great---you get free food, newspapers, cigarette butts, and anything else you sweep up.

3) I have a bony exostosis.

It is a woman's world. Most jobs are office jobs, which suit the female abilities of talking on the phone, multi-tasking, and forming good working relationships with people who aren't hot. Stereotypically male jobs requiring height or strength are increasingly given to women who can operate ladders and/or push-carts. 90% of Irish medical students are female. This is because the Leaving Cert rewards the female ability to CWS (concentrate while seventeen). Boys at that age are better at pushing each other and being insecure, but these are not on the syllabus. A guy in his Leaving Cert English exam, asked to write a two-page essay on the Witches in MacBeth, only gets so far before his mind wanders.

Witch 1: "When shall we three meet again?"
Witch 2: "When the battle's lost and won."
Witch 3: "Girls, you'll never guess what I got pierced."

I got a C+.

Ann and Barry ate some jam

Hello World (Kev)

I am determined that this is to be a classy weblog (to wit, the eschewment of popular abbreviations; furthermore, the correct usages of its and it's; and also, very little porn. By which I mean just a small quantity of porn, not a particular type of po) Anyway, classy weblog. Thus, it needs a Latin motto.

Veni vidi vici. Cogito ergo sum. Quo vadis? Tempus fugit. Ergo, carpe diem. That's all the Latin I know.

The inspiration for the weblogging of my f.r. (febrile rantings) is Kev, and his weblogging friends, including Dave and the finely websited Mark. Dave is a writer, who will one day be to the phrase "Get your blank on" what Woody Allen is to New York (i.e. he will make it slightly more famous than it already is, and divide opinion on it along socio-cultural lines). Mark takes photos of stuff, a bit like that guy in American Beauty, only not affectedly disenchanted in an I'mTooCoolForSuburbiaSoIVideotapePlasticBagsAndSmokePot way like that guy from American Beauty. Kev and I go back a long way; it's possible he knew me as a foetus. Everytime I see him he says "You've changed, man. You used to be covered in goo."

Further encouragement was given by Walpole who suggested a weblog might be an appropriate receptacle for my thoughts, so I can stop sending him electronic mail.

I hear they are going to cancel Joey*. Jooey. Jooooey. What made them want to come and blow you away?**

Some background:

I was very young when I was born. I think the most confusing things about being "out" were (a) having to eat for myself (I have yet to master this) and (b) being reproached for kicking my mother, which had previously been a cause of great celebration. When I got older I developed taste in stuff, and the need to have my tastes validated by verbalising my opinions for a small group of like-minded people. Then I started a weblog.

That is all.


*mediocre pop culture reference to ensure that this weblog dates badly #1

**obscure Bob Dylan reference #1