recent events seem to be hovering on the edge of my consciousness. Agression at work seems a useless emotion, too many people are full of shit for it to be of any benefit. Then again a little anger does throw a situation into anew curve. Why are women such bimbos? I mean they are useless, they don't do their menial jobs right, heaven knows we've let them into our work places and talked about empowerment and equality, but to what end? When will they find time to cook my dinner, not any of the bitches can actually cook these days, throwing pasta into a pan of water and covering it with a jar of red sauce is not cooking.
So arsenal were beaten badly by some shit kickers, again. they really don't deserve to win anything this year except for world's most expensive bunch of losers. And while i'm talking football someone really should sack that cunt fergerson, even when they score he's a miserable cunt.
sad bastards in office convince me to play a network golf game with them, every time i hit the ball mr apathy screams "lay up", hasn't he even seen Tin Cup? laying up is for wimps.

shobeedooo shooobbbeeeeddooo.... life is a minestrone... oh yeh...
A carefree existence is an interesting aim, some people would say an ideal. Of course they would be scruffy pot smoking smelly hippies... fucking waste of space arse-cunts.
Where is this damned war then? I'm bored, let's go get 'em boys... and by the way, lets stop off in Gaul and fuck the frogs big time, whinging little smelly cunts that they are. Do you know that the frogs use less soap per capita than any other civilised race, and i use that phrase advisedly as well. I mean, all we want to do is finish off george seniors little skirmish for him before he dies, it's not like we're asking much, we don't even want the craven snail munchers to fight with us, god forbid. So I say let's accidently drop a few bombs on the twats as we fly over. And their women are hairy, what's that all about?

there are forces at work that we can't control... small, petty voices whispering in bigger ears of useless, pointless, undermining rubbish.
soon we may be blocked from blogs. sad fucked up women in our place of work abuse the web to the point that one was crying the other day because she had "broken up with" some guy in Wisconsin she had never and would never meet. i don't know that it's a bad thing to not meet face to face, it does avoid us sleeping with ugly people.
But can't these saddos do it at home rather than endanger the holy blog? If we lose this then it's back to toilet walls which. let's face it is a rather smaller available audience.
People treat us as fools, the clowns of the business, they patronise and manipulate us but they forget many things, they forget that we are the creators, they forget that we can do thier job but can they do ours? they forget that we chose to be the creators not the badly dressed suits, because we can. Because we create from thin air, and that's what clients want, new thoughts not tired strategies and fumbled media plans. WE are the power, we should re-visit our arrogance and take control of OUR destinies. And fuck 'em if they can't take a joke.

The chinese have a saying, "egg flied lice two times..." , no, seriously though, they have a curse which goes, "May you live in interesting times". You know sometimes the yellow peril knows what it's babbling on about. Interesting times mean more shit and more shit is a bad thing, a very bad thing. And shit sticks. Like peanut butter in your pubic hair. Or strawberry jam up your arse.

What is wrong with Tony Blair anyway. Sure he came to power as "new labour" and the caring face of politics, but fuck me, now he's decided to go kick Ayrab ass why doesnt he just get on and do it, no one really cares, a few dozen frogs and a bunch of war mongoring krauts. Let's face it, the frogs will just change sides and cry anyway and the krauts are just pissed off because they didn't think of it first.(And they're crap at war...2-0, 2-0, 2-0).
And what's all this about the Welsh ministers again, once more raises their ugly bottoms. Bugger me, if you'll excuse the pun, but this guy gets hoyed out of the election race to be welsh first minister, an odd idea at the best of times, for sucking dick in london. THen he goes and does it in a toilet, what is he, politics' answer to george fucking michael.
Wipe 'em out I say, hangings too good for these sad fag bastards, kill them and kill them now before this evil plague spreads any further.
that's all

we have days of fun and days of regret, we can sit in our rooms and write sad fuck poetry that we can bore our friends with or we can confront the regrets.
transfer them into the fun table with a careless toss of the hand and a laugh. God knows life will jump up and get us soon enough without us tempting it. Slam the fucking door in its' face.
we are hurtling towards war, mr blair and twat bush are forcing us into something that will be big, loud and nasty, a Led zepplin concert with guns and live ammo. Personally, going on previous games, if I was a british soldier i'd make sure there were no americans behind me, they really don't give a flying fuck who they shoot and have the mental capacity of a teenage bloke on the pull and the morals of a room full of nigerian business men.
i worry. People are so self-destructve. They react and counter-react without thought, knee-jerk jerks.
I thought I'd won the lottery this morning, then remembered you have to buy a ticket to win, and why should i fill the coffers of the ANC who pointedly are not distributing the cash to right places, if indeed anywhere but to their fat arses and their sad fat wives and Winnie -I'm innocent of everything- mandela.
Let it all fall apart, we are the master race, not by nation but by thought which we will soon put into deed.

Bring it on Georgie.

been a quiet weekend as far as exploding israelies are concerned, although i see that other self igniting race the palestinians had a senior guy burst into flames in a car... jesus, you can't go anywhere without some middle-eastern clown bursting into flames just for the hell of it, and what does it get them? Not a damned thing, but dead, and dead lasts a long time.