Burning life's instruction book

Sunday, March 31, 2002

I am truly terrified. I just sat through the kids easter concert thing (when I say kids I mean my little 5 year old sister) and my ears hurt.
I know we all went to show support and encourage the young ones and thats all good, it should be done and must be done. But holy crap. Youd think the kids teachers would at least try and get them in tune, just a little tiny bit. I mean they got themselves the title "Music teacher"....I didnt see any music teaching there. Nothing had been taught. She might as well have come out to announce them and simply said; "Class B will now murder 'O come all ye faithfull'. The song has been arranged....without very much care at all. Helmets can be found under your chairs."
All the parents are sitting there as they play going, "Oh my god, we have spawned the devil, we should have gotten them hammers instead of instruments."
I mean you can tell, its plain on all of their faces. The father sitting next to me had this fixed grin on his face and i noticed his knuckles whitening as he gripped the chair.

I dont think I can quite paint the picture as to just how bad this 'music' was. You visualise kids school concerts and yeah, immediatley you can hear yourself some bum notes and some squeeqyness.
Well this concert sounded like the entire thing was being played through a weasel. One that was still very much alive.
A cat being scraped backwards over a cat scraping machine couldnt have made a worse noise. The kids themselves were also near tears. It was a bad noise. And the teachers charged us for the privilage of listening to it.

Still it taught all the parents lessons. They all now know that instead of musical instruments, they should get their kids to play with hammers instead. Far less damage to be done.

On the subject of music, what is the point in the triangle?
Why not just say 'ting'
The poor kid that gets to play triangle in the band is always going to be the most depressed kid in school because it takes no talent at all, and its pointless. This was proved when that twat band from manchester 'Oasis' used one as the pivotal part in one of their albums.

My ears, my EARS!!!

Friday, March 29, 2002

Another thrilling day passes at Rawhide tattoo studio, and yet another set of laughs abound.
Rentz showed his face again after being AWOL for 3 years out in america getting his nuts screwed in a divorce settlement with a barbie doll. She's had everything off of him, left him with nothing but a patch of oil in his driveway where his merc once was....as it turns out he'd only gone and married a certified psychopath. Then again thats what you get if you marry someone purely because they were once a playboy bunny.
Such is the life of a much in demand tattooist. Gotta feel sorry for the guy.
Life at Rawhide UK however is not so glamourous and today we dealt with the toughest guy this side of anywhere. You should have seen him, flashing his muscles and sounding off about getting a tattoo. When it finally got to his turn he then held up these two little tiny chinese symbols, and promptly passed out and peed his pants no sooner did needle touch skin.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is pathetic.
Sad truth is it happens so often and its always the men that pass out. They come in macho as all hell, and theyre hitting tile within seconds.
Boys - If youre going to walk into a tattoo studio I suggest two things. If youre going to behave like a tattoo expert I suggest actually having some tattoo's already. I mean this guy today.....well as Rentz said to him as he boasted about his chinese symbols, "I have tattoo's on my dick bigger than those."
Its true, you just look like a wanker. Guy today practically pissed himself when he started going on at me about girls not having tattoos because we couldnt take the pain, I pulled my shirt off and turned around and gave him an eyeful of my backpiece.
I heard him choke.
Theres him with his two chinese symbols.
F**ks sakes.

The tattoo world is a scary place to be sometimes. I know people that would kill your ex for a smoke and a can of beer. I know people that would brick your car if you coughed in their direction.
So you can imagine that when faced with testosterone filled dickheads who are having their tat's for the bravado of it all, the tattooist in question is without a doubt laughing.
Its dark and seedy back here in tattoo land.
But what is nice about this life is the togetherness of the actual group. If youre in the inner circle youre one of them and you have people behind you through anything that can get anything and do anything you need.
Strangely comforting, and once in the inner circle you know people around the world that can do the same.
Youre always taken care of.

Plus its a great world for me to hang out in, people that can actually take my foul temper and fouler mouth without getting all offended and weepy. F**king excellent.

God i'm bored.

I am Jacks longing for something to do

Thursday, March 28, 2002

Meeting new people.
Now this really is one of those horrifying events that takes place all too often in our little lives and I for one am reaching the end of my tether with it.
Now I don't mean going out and meeting people on purpose. I mean meeting people you have no choice but to meet. The people you have to make special efforts for to make good first impressions. Its a real f**king pisser.
There are so many unspoken rules and regulations for these types of meetings and every single one of them was created I am sure, by organised dickheads.
There was a board meeting one day where these rules were drawn up much to the sadistic amusement of all involved.

One of these rules of the first meeting is the handshake. We all know this and its second nature. I’m willing to bet no one even really thinks about it.
Well I do. And there are several types of handshake.
There's the sock-in-a-cup handshake which is kind of limp and I always think for this kind of handshake the response should be made with a fish. Just slap the fish into that limp palm and you will then have moments of amusement as the new person thinks your hand has fallen off.
There's the firm small-dick-big-handshake handshake which is just in itself amusing because you know that as the bones snap in your hand, he will always have a tiny member. Just be careful if you laugh in his face for he will certainly ask you why, and if you're anything like me you will blurt out exactly what you're thinking at that inopportune moment, and you will be fired.
Then there is the grinder. This one hurts. This is the handshake of bastards. This is the handshake of the man or woman that has everything and no longer cares about the lowly small people. The handshake of the person that thinks you're scum, and you need hurting as punishment for being so lowly. Worm.
In this situation I find the following an appropriate reaction.
As he grasps your hand and begins to twist and grind your knuckles I think you should simply do this:


It will get you fired but holy crap it'll make for a funny story.

In other news, I was told I should take more vitamins today and should read up on them also. I said there was no need as I already knew all about vitamins.
Its simple there's:
Vitamin A which is used for hmmnmmmmmmmnssnm
Vitamin B which is used for mnmnmnmmmmnmnmmm
Vitamin C which is good for scurvy, and other stuff.
Vitamin D which is good for skin and mood.
Vitamin E which is good for mmmmnmmnmhmmmsm

And after that there are no more. The vitamin board gave up after that one and buggared off for a cigarette. At least that's pretty much what my crappy biology teacher told me. But then she was a crack whore.

I am Jacks slight irritation and complete boredom
You know how I like to rant?
Well I would now like to hand you over to one of my mentors (The other being Denis Leary) and let him rant at you about...Computers.

This is an all time classic rant you see, and just must be read.


I have been told there are two EDDIE IZZARD home pages and I still can't find them.
I am very excited by the Internet, I am bemused by the Internet, I have tried to surf on the Internet but the bottom line at the moment is that there are still six tons of instructions to read before you can understand what the hell is going on. This is what the human race will not stand for. Instructions. I hate them. The idea is that if I plough through page after page of paper verbiage, I will then be allowed to wade through page after page of screen verbiage. And this is not a big sexy come-on.

I understand the idea of the power of the machine. I do not suffer from techno fear. Techno fear is when people are afraid to press the buttons of a machine in case they blow the machine up. I have the opposite, I have techno bravado. I just love to grab hold of machines, switch them on, press every button I can find and then hit them with a hammer when I can't get them to work. If they blow up, then I watch the pretty colours and then take the thing back to the shop and say: "What the hell's going on here? I just touched the on button and the mother blew up!"

I can appreciate what machines can do and I want to access that power now. I am the kid that broke the first Sharp cassette recorder that my brother got. I never read the instructions. I just hammered away
with my fingers until something happened.
The Internet. The new big thing. The thing that grew so quickly that it even caught Microsoft on the hop. I've talked to people who were worried about linking the computers in their businesses up to the Internet in case hackers came in and nicked all their everything. Their nightmare is that they come in next morning, switch on and the computers just say "Oops!".
But armed with my techno bravado I order the modem and the software and get linked up. This having been done, I am given a folder. The dreaded folder which contains the instructions to explain all the
software I have just had installed. I immediately leap into a state of apathy. I don't want to read this guff. So it just sits in my bag, going eeeeeeek.

After about two weeks I decide that I had better have a go at surfing and so in the middle of the night, I link up my computer to my phone line, take all the pages of instructions and make a hat out of them, and then just start double-clicking on any new bit of software that I can find in my computer.
I've got a program called Fetch and I get into that quite easily, and before I know it I am downloading BBC cookery programmes on to my computer with the enthusiasm of someone who cooks. I don't. And so I
now know how to cook some BBC pies. I download some other bits and get bored. This is no good. I want to see pictures of Earth taken from space five minutes ago, I want to see the World Bank's financial
figures in one of those share-of-cake charts. I wanna break into a security thingy and nick all of everything so that they have only got "Oops!" in the morning. But all I have got is some stuff on pies.
So I exit from Fetch and I decide to send some E-mail. So I double-click and it does all the wonderful tonal "beep-beep-boop-beep-boop" stuff as it phones whoever. I put in my password codes (I have four different password things of about eight letters and digits each - this bores the tits off me as it's just more numbers to remember) but when I try to link up with whatever it is I link up with, the screen says: "You have made a problem of type 4096 - do not do this." What the fuck is that all about? What is problem type 4096, and how big a hammer will fix it? This pisses me off big-time because it implies that, not only have I not got a clue what problem 4096 is, but also I do not have a clue what all the other 4095 potential problems are either. Sod that.

Next I try to send a global fax, but I just send it to myself which is a bummer. Then I link through to the World Wide Web (which is different to the Internet, because it is controlled by spiders). I am a member of the BBC Networking Club, and through this I finally enter the Internet. Once in the Internet, I immediately go to the weather section and choose to load some pictures. BEWARE - BE VERY WARE! If you are downloading pictures from the Internet they can often take longer to download than it would take squirrels to make an apple crumble. IT TAKES FOREVER. And once you've chosen the picture, you can't pull out until it's all good and loaded. The pictures may be beautiful, but they may also be boring as hell and you can't tell which at the start. Apart from this though, it obviously is a very fascinating tool and I will eventually work out how everything works.

I feel at the moment that I am five years old and I have been given a JCB to drive. And I can't see out of the window. And I have no pants on. This article is also supposed to be about how to make your own home page on the Internet. Well, I don't bloody know. I have been told there are two Eddie Izzard home pages (set up by other people) and I still can't find them. I guess I'm looking in the wrong piece of surf. What do I have, though, is a large hammer.

The End

I love that rant.

I am Jacks need to pay homage
I really hate people. Really.

Most of the time, I'm a very tolerant person. But as with all things there are just those times and those people that make that tolerance near f**king impossible. I've never had any sympathy for stupid people...not since my school days when the f**kwits were just in legions. It was like some kind of wasp swarming thing only without all the fun.

Now, the stupid people in question on todays rant, are those people that hang around on the internet in chat rooms or on IRC or on AOL and so on and so forth, and they send you this f**king message...

"Hi, A/S/L?"


Answer me this. How many people actually go onto one of these messaging systems and actually sit and wait around because they want some wanker from the asshole end of the internet to come up to them and ask them how their day is going?
How many of you think this is a cool thing?
If I had army boots on right now i'd stick em up yer ass, both of them. This is not cool. More often than not it wont get you a date it'll get you reported and laughed at.
I always feel like saying "105/Both/Right behind you holding an axe"

What pisses me off even more royally about this internet intrusion is that the wanker has the audacity to ask me this question and interrupt me while talking to the people i actually do want to talk to, but more often than not once you tell them this "A/S/L" they just f**k off because youre not what theyre looking for.
F**k me sideways if youre going to interrupt me at least have the common f**king courtesy to stick around so I can tell you to go f**k yourself, or at least screw with your mind a bit first.
Just bad f**king manners.

If you want to meet people for sex talk on the internet (and lets face it, thats the only reason you would send the f**king offending "A/S/L" in the first place) then go to a f**king sex chatroom. In the name of f**king sanity. Not some poor ole joe schmoe whos using the chat facility to talk to people that they actually like.
Youd think the brain would put that together now wouldnt you.
No such f**king luck and herein lays the stupidity and there you have your answer....this is why I hate stupid people.
And to the twat faced loser that just "A/S/L"d me, I hope you sit on a f**king cactus you talentless, braindead dateless moron. F**k you. Forever love your hand.

I am Jacks utter intolerance

Wednesday, March 27, 2002

I signed up with Blogsnob.com and they told me to plug their site in my next post so heres the plug.
Theyre a nice bunch of people, their links been randomly inserted in my links bit...find it, check it out.

I am Jacks shameless plugging
I hate boy bands. They should all be my bitch. Do you think between the many f**king zillions of the wankers there are they could possibly between them come up with an origional f**king tune?
I mean every single song sounds the same or sounds like someone elses song or samples someone elses song or f**king is someone elses song.
Westlife, N*Sync, Backstreet boys, Blue, Boyzone...those are the only ones I know the names of the rest of them just fade into bleak obscurity and when i'm watching MTV they all look the f**king same anyway.
I must ask record companies everywhere. What is the f**king point?!
There are artists out there in music land that get no f**king recognition whatsoever. Artists with fantastic f**king voices and actual talent that spend their careers getting pretty much ignored.

But oh no, lets just throw another bunch of pansy ass carbon copy wankers on the fire (please) and we'll call it music.
They make me so bored. They make me want to burn things.

As for Blue's latest single "Fly by" I cant help but think it should be titled "Drive by" *snigger*

Die Jack die
You know what I hate? People with f**king opinions on everything.
Touche. But see I put this journal up here for my own writing pleasure, to get the stresses and strains and major f**king annoyances of a day off of my chest and if someone else reads it, cool, good for them, and maybe you should think about checking yourself into a clinic.
But please tell me, what is the pont in browsing the internet, coming accross a journal like mine where a singular person will be airing their singular grievences and not asking anyone else to take a blind bit of notice..they come accross a journal like mine, and have an opinion...on a movie...that they have to share. With me. Like I give shit.
I dont want to hear everyone elses opinions about movies, I know what I like and i'll like what I like and i'll rant if I want to. As was so memorably said in "From dusk til dawn" - "Well thats a matter of opinion and I dont give a f**k about yours."

Also what irks me though, is that its a pointless waste of time to do such a thing. So I pose you a question: If you feel you absolutley must tell someone accross the other side of the planet that you feel strongly in the opposite direction over something on their nondescript unpopular website....are you perhaps the saddest person alive?
Get friends, get a hobby, get your own journal and have an opinion in that.

F**k me with a rusty clawhammer, i'm in a bad mood.

Aside from that my day has sucked. F**king shocker there huh.

No offence...really...I mean it.

Tuesday, March 26, 2002

So, Monday.....what a day.
Couldnt have been more boring, in fact I have so very little to say about today I could be the insruction blurb on the side of a packet of nuts. "Open bag, eat nuts"
I am that damned exhilerated.
I can sum up today in one word.


Pointless, mundane impersonator of something bigger and tastier.


I am Jacks overwhelming apathy.

Monday, March 25, 2002

Oscar® Rant #3

Best Director and best Movie to f**king "A Beautiful mind?!" That movie was a huge pile of horses crap I hated it it was shite.
My main gripe was "Who gives a shit?!"

DAMN YOU ACADEMY!! Kiss my ass.

I am Jacks enraged righteousness

Oscar® Rant #2

Nicole deserved the Oscar for "Moulin Rouge".....but

Halle Berry. First ever African American Best Actress Oscar winner. I have to give the girl her dues, and she's produced one of my new favorite quotes with her speech...."This moment...so much bigger than me."

The girl done good and by christ you could tell she appreciated it. Bless her.

Still, Nicole should have f**king won.

I am Jacks indecision

Oscar® Rant #1.

Ian McKellen did not get the Oscar for "Best Actor"
A f**king crime has been comitted in L.A, will someone please arrest everyone at the ceremony and on the board.


I am Jacks inflamed need for revenge.
Ooooh its Oscar night and I'm sitting up at 1am waiting for the actual ceremony to start. F**king hell i'm startstruck, its pathetic.
Yes, I admit it. I'm a movie whore. I just adore looking at famous people. Would never ever want to be one of them but watching them...I just get off on it in some sick way (ewwwwwwwww)
I just saw Julia Roberts looking absolutley stunning as per usual in all over black. Nicole Kidman looking as dazzling and stunning as ever (and so much better without Tom clinging to her thigh, short ass wanker)
Uma Thurman out in public again after a long stint out of the public eye, shes back with hubby Ethan Hawke and looking as beautiful as ever.
Waiting to see Angelina Jolie and Julianne Moore and I'll be happy.

Come on Lord of the Rings, Sweep the board!!

I really have nothing interesting to say at this point, i'm too busy drooling into my shoes and staring in awe at my favorite stars.
Shallow and meaningless?

Shit yeah...and I like it!

"Do not give a damn, you cannot allow yourself to care!!" ~ Will Smith OSCARS 2002

I am Jacks sneaking suspicion that I speak fluent crap.

Sunday, March 24, 2002

I hate computers.
I hate the internet.
Everythings either slow, busted broken or just plain shite. Nothings works.
They should bite me.
Technology...pfffffffffffft. Wankers.

That is all. Dont like it dont read it, my space ;)

Saturday, March 23, 2002

Linkin Park kick ass, Drowning pool kick ass, i'm in love with Marilyn Manson, Rob Zombie is my hero and Korn rock. I love being a metaller chick.....

If I die before I wake, at least in heaven I can skate.........which is kinda a miracle, i cant skate now.

I havent slept in about 60 hours. Thats kinda cool and I think my rebel work for the week is well and truly done, yey me. Quite why i havent slept I do not know. Kinda a pain in the ass though because my hands have started to go numb and I cant feel my feet and I swear to god I saw the cat carrying an onion earlier.

I was having a wild old time in the kitchen earlier today which is just like, the scariest thing. I promise you if you hear of me stepping inside my kitchen the words "Run, RUN You crazy fools RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!! come to mind.
I can burn cereal and set fire to salad. I'm that damned good.
Even the gods greatest invention the microwave, has not quenched my staggering shiteness in the kitchen area and just yesterday I was successfully blowing up microwave pizzas. I now also have two medium sized fires under my belt. Thatll go nicely with the collection of four large sized ones and several small ones. That is one thing I can create in the kitchen; fires.
Damn just everyone wants to be my boyfriend right now I can tell.
So anyway I was cooking, or at least trying to. I'm could give the middle east a run for their f**king money far as bio warfare goes. My soup is dire, and its from a can.
I cannot believe I managed to make good soup taste like coal.
Then again my ovens shite, its really really old so I could blame it on the cooker. It'll cook anything to incineration point within three seconds. You can just kinda show the plate of food to the outside of the oven and suddenly everythings on fire, thats how strong this oven is.
This oven even cooks bits of oven, like handles and stuff melt and then you have bacon risotto a la timer knob. Delicacy round these parts I can tell you. The plastic gives it a kind of chewy texture, I reccommend it.

Needless to say I do not do very much cooking around these parts but that leads to another problem. I'm a food snob. Maybe it came from my head waitress days (oh....how i miss them....f**king not) when everything came in funny stacks with truffles and lobster and saffron all mixed up and just looking great. These days I demand all food in a tower including soup.

And that leads me to a f**king pet peeve, that being gourmet restaurants and their meals. You go in there youre paying at least £80 per person before youve even ordered something. Youre so f**king hungry at this point because the restaurant is right in the center of london because its so fantastic, but youve had to park miles and miles away in like, aberdeen to walk the rest of the way because there were no spaces near by.
You get there ready to eat both of the two fat ladies if theyre whos cooking that night. You order, all thrilled like.
What arrives on your plate some three hours later?

A mushroom. Surrounded by a ring of what looks like strawberry sauce. Maybe if youre lucky a sprig of parsley. Theres not enough f**king food here to feed my hamster for a day, what the f**k am I paying huge amounts of money for?
So you finish your 'gourmet' meal in one bite and move on to the desserts and heres where things get really f**king disappointing because these desserts are the finest, the richest chocolate cake in the entire world.
How much do you get?
Think a piece the size of your thumbnail, again surrounded by the strawberry sauce and maybe a small blob of ice cream, about the same amount as you would get if you let the varnish drip one drip from a nail varnish bottle.

Oh yum. Consider me decidedly underwhelmed.

The afterdinner mint is more filling than the entire meal.

"Yes sir that'll fifty million pounds and the souls of your first three born sons, have a nice evening."

And thats it, youre shoved back out into the cold streets faced with your zillion mile walk back to your poxy car, hungrier than you were when you got there, several thousand pounds the poorer and owing your soul to satan...all for a meal the size of a pea that is apparently 'gourmet' and the best in the land.

Words do actually fail me. Anyone that dines at these places on principal needs taking out, stripping and hanging upside down from a tree for several years. Its pathetic.

Give me pizza hut any day.

F**k, give me timer knob soup flambe, at least its filling.

Who's hungry?

Sign my guestbook or i'll set the guinie pigs on you...
And they poo y'know....a lot.

That is all.
..........Never mind. I've lost all interest in posting what I was going to.

Instead of that i'll simply say that i'm rather put off by a family sized packet of condoms I found in my brothers pockets (I wasnt going through them for anything other than amusement value, I assure you....god i'm evil) Its not so much that my fifteen year old brother has a family sized packet of condoms that really bothers me. I mean actually its pretty good, at least it means he has a bit of a brain in that skull of his which is, I dont mind admitting, a bit of a shocker. At least he wont be out there impregnating any horribly young schoolgirls, that would just suck plus would end up being a pain in my ass, no doubt i'd be lumbered with babysitting privilages at some point (Its not that I hate kids its just....well, no actually it is that I hate kids)....where the f**k was I?
Oh yes my brother having a brain.......f**king hell huh.

Get back to the point of the f**king rant you silly cow!!!

Right, yes....family sized packet of condoms.
Whats wrong witht his picture? FAMILY sized packet of condoms!!!
I find this oddly contradictory and to be honest a little disturbing. Certainly doesnt make me want to use their brand, geez.

Hang on a second my little brothers got f**k knows how many condoms in his school jacket...that little f**ker!!!

To deities above, deities below; gods and goddesses alike; great and small; infinite wisdom and infinite capriciousness; the infallible and the ineffable alike......please....

Never let the little gobshite go forth and multiply, that would just be really disturbing.


You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake...goddammit.
Love this song, and Phil deserves it.....damn my melancholy moments......

Michelle Branch - Goodbye To You

Of all the things I've believed in
I just want to get it over with
Tears form behind my eyes
But I do not cry
Counting the days that pass me by

I've been searching deep down in my soul
Words that I'm hearing are starting to get old
It feels like I'm starting all over again
The last three years were just pretend
And I said,

Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to

I still get lost in your eyes
And it seems that I can't live a day without you
Closing my eyes and you chase my thoughts away
To a place where I am blinded by the light
But it's not right

Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to

And it hurts to want everything and nothing at the same time
I want what's yours and I want what's mine
I want you
But I'm not giving in this time

Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to
The one thing that I tried to hold on to

And when the stars fall
I will lie awake
You're my shooting star

(Michelle Branch)
©2000 I'm With The Band Music Publishing Company (ASCAP)

You know what I really f**king hate? what really really makes me want to kill things with hammers and impale puppies on sticks. What really just irks me so f**king much I want to stick my fist down my throat and just vomit until the world is sucked up through my ass and thrown up too?!

People that believe themselves to be Gods of their own little worlds. I hate that with the kind of bitter passion you just cannot accuratley describe in text or verbal form. Its the kind of hatred only expressed with a noise. I believe its a low rumble that starts at the back of your throat and just ends in a vomiting screeching sound.
The God like wankers I am referring to, are the staff at St Georges School. Bunch of tosspieces.
My brother goes there now and I used to go to this school way back in the day and it wasnt a school, it was a Hitlerite fascist nazi boot camp regime....if not waaaaay f**king worse.
And the headmaster there believed himself to be the God of that little world.

Let me paint you a picture. In my time at that school I saw two twelve year old children have their heads bashed together by their teacher. I was taken aside along with my fellow pupils who witnessed the act, and was told in no uncertain terms that if I was to report what I had seen in any way shape or form, our lives would be made hell. The children were also threatened and when the parents got involved, the children in question were instantly expelled.
The teacher however didnt get so much as a warning.
Then my friend Amy got herself locked in the music room with our music teacher who stuck his hand up her skirt (and she wasnt the first or the last to experience some kind of pervyness from this man) but who did the headmaster believe?
The teacher. Amy was expelled the next day.
And believe me thats just the tip of the f**king iceburg with that place. In my time there I saw so much worse go on.
Yet what galls me even more is the fact that this school is widely regarded as one of them best in the whole of the frikin UK and people just throw money at it to keep it running. Believing wrongly that said money will go towards equipment for the school. I beg to f**king differ. Most of it is pocketed and I know this to be a fact.
Our headmaster doled out the kinds of rules that if you were ever faced with them yourself you would be greating the dealer of said rules with a hearty f**king "ARE YOU MENTAL?!"

Boys may not have hair longer than one inch. Girls may not have hair longer than shoulder length. No braids, no hair colouring, hair must not be worn down. Skirts must be an exact length. No sock colour other than white. Ties must be seven inches. Boys must not shave their heads. No marker pens allowed as they are dangerous. No drinking or eating outside of lunch hour. If you are seen outside of school hours outside of SCHOOL in the street somewhere, eating or drinking, you can be suspended. No drinking allowed anywhere on school premises except the lunch room between the hours of 12pm and 1pm. Not even after phys ed. No holding hands, no public hugging. No running. No shouting. You may not walk with your teachers. Shall I go on?.......

Mr Hoare (a more appropriate and fitting name will never, ever be found) you are a prize f**king tosser. And I hope you know every child and most of those childs parents, that ever pass through your school f**king loathe you for life.
Pfffft. St Georges. The school that advises parents not to allow their children to have parties, birthday or otherwise because such out of school activities are meaningless and pointless and only serve to distract from the persuit of education and have kids come together in one place and cause trouble.

You retarded wankers! So let's get this straight, there's something totally meaningless which exists merely to get people in the same place? F**k me, it's right in front of your poncy f**king noses! Take a look around at your own f**king school! If you can f**king see anything under those ridiculous f**king haircuts you all wear so militantly! Christ, who cuts your hair, a blind lemming? I've seen better directions of image in my local Kwik-Save and here you are, f**king teachers, guides to the upcoming youth of our nation! You absolute boundry-breaking shagwits! Things working out? Fine, just throw in another 10 pages of self-indulgent masturbation into one of your self important 'newsletters' and it'll be fine! Wipe down one of your prospectus' and you could repopulate the f**king Middle East! What a load of generic fuckwits! Christ!

I hope the place burns to the ground one day.

School days are the best days of your life. BALLS School days are f**king shite. Its shite being a teenager and its even shiter if you get sent to that f**king boot camp. I pity my brother and his two years left there.

F**king hell.

Friday, March 22, 2002

Women I admire: My Mother, well she's just a given, this woman kicks f**king ass.

Angelina Jolie. The woman is just magnificent. I like a hollywood actress that can make an acceptence speach at the Oscars sound like porn, admits to sleeping with knives under her pillows and builds a f**king padded cell to have sex with her husband in. Class. Plus she makes kick ass movies.

Charisma Carpentar. This woman can act and blows her co-stars off the screen time and time again in that little known show "Angel". I was so completely amazed by her performance in an episode from season 3 called "That vision thing" that she actually reduced me to tears, no easy fete I can tell you. Then later on in an episode called "Billy" she again shone brighter than all others, with the aid of some fantastic scripting, in fact I liked the speach so much here it is.....

"You know the guy you hired to hack into my visions? What he did to me? You know what it felt like? I was cut, torn up, my face disfigured and burning with pain every second, not knowing if it was gonna end, or just get worse till I died...
It's not the pain, though that gets you. It's the helplessness. It's the certainty that there's nothing you can do to stop it, that your life can be thrown away in an instant by someone else - he doesn't care, he'll beat you down till you stay down 'cause he doesn't even think of you as alive.
No woman should ever have to go through that. And no woman strong enough to wear the mantle of 'Vicious Bitch' would ever put up with it."
-- Like I said, the womans a star.

Julianne Moore. Look at her work in "Hannibal"
Need I say more?

All I can think of right now *L* Its not often I get all respectful and Yotz.

I'll be back later with a proper rant ;)

Must See Movie: "Thirteen Ghosts" - I dont care what the critics say, the critics know shit. I thought this was an excercise in excellent scary movie making. See it, shudder, choke on your popcorn (if you do happen to choke on said popcorn, do not say I told you to do it it wont be good and i'll get arrested.)

Song of the moment: I'm currently in love with Creeds "My Sacrifice" and Drowning Pools "Bodies"
If you dont like heavy rock music. What the f**k is wrong with you?

So anyway, my day. Just another boring day in the big ole city surrounded by the usual scum and crap you'd expect to find in a place like this. I do so f**king hate london. Its like the plughole of the universe all the scum ends up there. Which is why i'm lucky to live on the outskirts and not actually in the place.
Damn I think if I actually lived there I'd have joined the lemmings a long time ago.

My home city aint too bad. Full of all the usual old rubbish. Smells bad, has a large field and a mucky pond that counts as nature in some cultures. Supposedly our mucky pond and bit of brown stubbly grass is actually a tourist attraction. F**k me sideways, who in their right f**king mind would ever want to come here and look at a muddy pond and some stubbly grass. Oh yeah I forgot...
Its Roman muddy pond and stubbly brown grass.
Like it makes a f**king difference. I tell you that field and pool of water is no more Roman than the tattoo on my ass. Roman *lol* shuh....
Apparently this entire city was once a roman settlement. Worse f**king luck for those guys huh. Theres a place near me they call the Roman Verulamiam or some such arse. They charge you £25 to get in. Its all so amazing, big lights and a huge gift shop and a massive cafe.
You pay your money and toddle off inside all excited because youre about to see a verulamiam and theyre always exciting (what the f**k is a verulamiam? whats more do I f**king care?.....a resounding NO) and you get inside and suddenly youre in this field and theres a ditch.......

Theres a ditch.......

Apparently, it would seem verulamiam is Roman for 'large f**king muddy hole in the ground surrounded by some stones'
Its about as exciting as a Christina Aguilera concert. As in....its not. And if you do happen to like it...you need shooting. (What I cant hate the blonde bimbo? lady marmalade....pffffft.....lady ham and jam sandwich more like, frumpy old bag.)

So theres me just paid my £25 for the privilage of seeing a lrge f**king hole in the ground and by this time i'm feeling really f**king cheesed off and eager to take it out on something. Preferably some donuts or chocolate cake.
I toddle off the the gift shop and cafe. Thrilled to discover they have verulamiam sandwiches. Ask waitress if thats just a plate with a disappointing hole in it. She remains unamused.
Have a donut and some watery piss flavoured coffee. Really unimpressed at this point. Make my way to the actual gift section.

Holy screaming f**king Jesus they have verulamiam keyrings and pens. I kid you not, keyrings with a photo of a hole. I'm thrilled to beyond all belief.
£5 no less.
Tell shop assistant to get a job. Leave feeling angry.

And that is the extent of the fun in this ole town of mine. I'd used up the one sight seeing attraction within my first day here and that was eleven years ago. Seems to me though since i've been here more and more things have become Roman. How that is I will never know.
My city redefined the boundaries of uselessness, and we're not f**king ashamed. But we should be. Especially by our MP, the kind of twat who goes naked at festivals, despite having a two-inch f***ing penis! You've got so much to be f***ing ashamed of, wanker! F***ing hell!

Thursday, March 21, 2002


Which Rock Chick Are You?

Geesh these tests are stupid...

I know, four entires in one day is pretty extreem. But Its a bad insomnia night.
You know what truly amazes me, if I can get all serious on this place for a moment. I sat here for about ten minutes and simply refreshed the main blogger page over and over, and in that time a countless number of these journals were updated. I mean I read some stuff that was just, well heartbreaking in place, weird in others, ruder than me, depressing, fantastic. Those were just the ones I had a look at, catchy titles and the like. I have to say at least 100 Journals were updated in five minutes accross the world.
Theres something rather amazing about that. While I sit here tip tapping away and jotting down my random rants and weirdnesses, theres actually some kid in the middle of somewhere I cant pronounce, doing the same thing.
Only this kid is pouring his heart out over the violence going on in his family at that precise moment.

I'm not quite sure what to think about that, but its definitley some serious smelling salts for 5am in the morning. You always know theres millions upon millions of people writing on the net at any one time, but to watch it in action is kinda weird. Makes me feel really small and kinda sad in a way.
Theres probably a few million journals out there, with some of the most amazing thoughts ever put to...well I was gonna say pen to paper, but I guess html to...something....
All these amazing people and we'll miss them.

Think I'm gonna go look up a few random blogs, see what gems I unearth. Dont think i'll ever get any sleep tonight.

I miss Phil. Damn him to hell.


I'm a Fire Spirit

"You are quick to take action and sometimes quick to judge. Your firey spirit is seen by most as positive energy and a true joy of life. If only your temper was seen the same way, but don't let it keep you from what you truly enjoy, being alive!

Remains to be f**king seen eh *L*

Just a general random thought off the top of my head while browsing the net....


I feel better, I do.

So I swear too much apparently. Who knew.
I did think maybe I would try and go an entire entry without using any naughty words, might be some kind of perverse challenge for me or something. But then I kinda decided...where would be the f**king fun in that?

But actually today I dont have all that much to complain about. Just usual daily grind of looking for a better job than the one I have right now (which isnt all bad i'll give it that, but then dont we all strive toward something a little more 'you' ....f**k knows i'll never be the next Kubrick or Cameron...dont have the downstairs equipment for one thing, dont have the movie equipment for another...but hey we can dream) ...and where the frell was I?

Ah yes, daily grind, blah blah blah frikin blah.

You know what really galls me? about two months ago I had this job interview and it went really well and I was told I had the job. They would call me on monday with my hours.
Right-O, I buggared off home all pleased with myself. Monday comes....nothing.
Tuesday....no ringing phones.
Wednesday....i'm beginning to hear things ringing, but never the phone.
Thursday....I could swear the corn cob was ringing, but still no phone call.
Friday...call them...."This number is no longer in service."

So this band of nonces go hiring people and then lose their phone line and for all I knew, their company had gone down the plughole and I wasnt about to make that half hour drive down to go see em. Sod them. I got another job.
But today.....to-frikin-day...I recieved a phone call from them asking me why I had never f**king turned up!!

"Holy rusty clawhammers batman, what-in-the-blue-hell happened to you lot?!" I yell.
"Oh we moved offices."

Right....dont think to actually do anything f**king sensible like actually f**king TELL your f**king STAFF that youre moving f**king buildings or anything...oh no that would be too much like running a business.
You absolute boundry-breaking twats!

People annoy me.

So much for not swearing eh....

Wednesday, March 20, 2002

Firstly I have to say that George Michaels new single 'Freek' is officially one of my favorite songs of the year so far. I just love it. Unusual considering i'm a metal chick by trade. Speaking of which Marilyn Mansons new single is out this week, I must get myself off to my local record store tomorrow.

Anyways, my pet peeve of the the day....

I spend a lot of time at my friends tattoo shop just helping out and hanging about and I see a lot of real twats come and go. Y'know the type, wannabe hardmen. Well today I came so close to homicide.
I had to sit for 4 of the most f**king boring hours of my life while this customer sat and had his 'Born Bad' bulldog tattoo (oh for f**ks sakes, boys...its not big and its not clever, believe me you are the laughing stock of the f**king tattoo world when you come in and ask for these tats, you losers)
Not only was this man possibly the greasiest specimine of wankerdom...I mean this guy had half the worlds supply of oil in his hair and had someone lit a cigarette within a four mile radius of where we were sitting i'm sure the entire f**king world would have gone up in flames. Not only that, but he was the kind of ignorant freak you read about in only the most boring of books.
He sat there, all macho like, and complained solidy for his entire 4 hours about women. And how pathetic we are and how meek and stupid we are. See he had just split up with his girlfriend because she was 'so f**king stupid I'm sure my I.Q's dropped since i've known her.'
Not only that, but he had this to say about what he finds attractive in a prospective girlfriend. "I like them to be strong, witty and not preoccupied with my music...and it's very important that they laugh at my bad jokes."


Well, I hate to f***ing worry you, Brad, but that f***ing sounds like me! I'm certainly strong, I've got a f***ing clever way with words and as the f***ing Lord is my witness, I am not preoccupied with the music of a f***ing greasy haired nonce like yourself! Plus, I had a hearty f***ing laugh at the very bad joke indeed that was your f***ing business card before lobbing it out of the f***ing window! So, what say we get together and I give you the shafting you so richly f***ing deserve, big boy?

I hate wankers.

Tuesday, March 19, 2002

Perusing my Sunday newspaper, I was intrigued to come across a feature entitled "My Favourite Places", which this week was given over to some wench that is apparently a singer called Suzanne Vega (sounds familiar, cant place her which either means she's completely shite or hasnt made a record in forever....or something else). She listed as her favourite places East Harlem and Liverpool which, with their grey, bleak, post-industrial environments, "are not beautiful in the conventional sense but have a certain rough charm about them".

Well shove a clarinet up my ass, "a certain rough charm"? It makes you wonder why every f***er from East Harlem or Liverpool has f***ed off from the place the moment they had enough cash for a one-way ticket! And where does Suzanne live? California! Poor little f***er, stranded in Beverly Hills, staring down along Sunset Boulevard, wishing she was in f***ing Liverpool! You like Liverpool? Go f***ing live there, you mousey, patronising, whimsical, airheaded, overpaid, undertalented, perversely sadistic tourist in other people's f***ing misery! Count the number of seconds till the "rough charm" of f***ing Toxteth wears off.

Then I turn to the next page and what do I see? Lorraine Kelley. Now this is some stupid old tart from nowhere that got a shit job on a shittier TV show and now she thinks shes some kind of authority on...well...just about f***ing everything. I hate this woman.
This week she has an opinion about my personal favorite actress Angelina Jolie and her having adopted a foreign baby with husband Billy Bob. According to high and mighty Lorraine, they shouldnt be adopting foreign babies, they should be doing something worthwhile like donating money to nurseries and schooling.
Well, you stupid f**kwit, you could try checking out your facts before you write toss in a newspaper. Angelina and Billy Bob found said child while helping frikin well build a frikin nursery with their money. So get the feck off of your high horse Lorraine, and maybe use some of YOUR bloody money to help someone out...stop spending it all of dresses that make you look like a f***in pudding. You complain about disliking the photos of Angelina and baby?! Well I most definately dislike you appearing in f***ing photos! I put that f***ing page in last week's paper in the bottom of my budgie's cage and now it's so f***ing traumatised, its feathers have fallen out and it keeps hopping from perch to perch squawking "F***ing hell! F***ing hell!" in a markedly stressful manner! You're as ugly as both ends of a two-arsed sausage dog!

Leave my Angie alone!!

Can you tell nothings actually happening in *my* life right now?!

Wednesday, March 06, 2002

Most galling part of it all was the entire thing didnt fuckin work anyway so I've just set it back to what it was before. Isnt life a complete and total female dog from time to time?

I hate technology. It sucks donkeys.
I just spent many many hours sorting this damned thing out. There...doesnt it look pretty. All nice and organised and colourful. Just ripe for absolutley buggar all people to look at it.
Ah well, such is life.

Tuesday, March 05, 2002

You know what pisses me off?
Actors in run of the mill TV shows that believe theyre the next Al Pacino.
A small gripe I know but I am just beginning to reach the end of my teather with one show that I used to quite enjoy. See theres this Brit show down here, pretty much a cult soap that I watch from time to time and rather like. But right now it is being spoiled by one actor plays a character called Mark Fowler. A more miserable bastard cannot be found on TV. All week this week Marks been talking in this soft voice using an acting style so reminiscent of George the hippo, somebody should really tell him: "Its not King Lear, so just say your lines and F*** off!"
Alas though he is such an integral part of the story right now it appears we are doomed to suffer his mumbling self-indulgence for all eternity.
Ah well, a minor inconvenience to my TV viewing pleasure.
As far as life goes today I had the misfortune of bumping into an old school friend whom I had prayed to high heaven that I would never see again. There she stood beside me in Woolworths in all her slut-bag-ho'ishness, behaving exactly as she did all those years ago with her breasts exposed to all the world and a giggle that reminded me somewhat of a drowning pig.
See when I use the term 'friend' i'm using it so losely.....I only ever spent time with this girl when I was forced to, and then I usually vomited.
Today she wanted us to be like old pals, and desperatley wanted me to go for a drink with her.
When I told her I dont drink anymore she sort of pouted and looked all sorry for me then said: "Awww, shame" in her most glass scratchingly annoying voice.
I had to bite my tongue from telling her in the get up she was in, she looked like a heroin addict of some years. Honestly, Victorian women have emerged from wooden bathing caravans looking more up for it then her.
She told me to keep in touch.

Grand delusion of the week goes to my ex boss who complained to me that his staff hated him because he dropped the letter H when he spoke.
Wrong, they hate him because he's a pile of shit.

There, think thats all for today.
I do feel better.

Sunday, March 03, 2002

Oh lawdy, look what I just found...

Somebody's moggy by the side of the road
Somebody's pussy who forgot his highway code
Someone's favorite feline who ran clean out of luck
When he ran on to the road and tried to argue with a truck
Yesterday he purred and played in his pussy paradise
Decapitating tweety birds and masticating mice
Now he's just six pounds of raw mincemeat that don't smell very
He's nobody's moggy now.

All you who love your pussy be sure to keep him in
Don't let him argue with a truck, the truck is bound to win
And upon the busy road, don't let him play or frolic
If you do I'm warning you it could be CATastrophic
If he tries to play on the roadway, I'm afraid that will be that
There will be one last despairing MEOW! and a sort of squelchy
And your pussy will be slightly dead and very, very flat
He's nobody's moggy, just red and squashed and soggy
He's nobody's moggy now.

Well, I love cats....but that was funny *teehee*
I know I know, I havent made an entry in a while. There is a reason for this and a very good one at that. I gave up smoking!! Yey me, I am officially a smoke free zone, you can see me without having to wave a small fan about in front of you to clear away the drifts of smoke.
Well I for one am proud.
Other than that my life blows goats right now. I just split up from my moronic twat faced boyfriend and I can tell you right here and now I am no happy bunny about it. The buggar had the cheek to say to me "oh woman please SHUT UP!" when he was asked a perfectly simple question.
Mmmmm, disrespect and his own blind ignorance all rolled in to one. I can see he was a great catch. So glad I wasted a year and a bit of my life on him. Yippee-woop-de-fuckin-do.
So I am now taking a break from that dating world, its all a bunch of balls anyway and I've pretty much had all I can take of right now. I am simply going to sit back and languish in the bliss that is singledom, where I can do as I please whenever I please and not have to worry about some monkey and what he's thinking.
I'm taking great pleasure in sitting here right now in my sweatpants without make up, and just doing things you wouldnt normally do with a guy around. (Wouldnt you like to know, lift thee mind from gutter at once)

So anyway, I shall from here on make a greater attempt to keep this diary going. Any of you that read it....well...sorry.
If it makes you feel any better I do hear a high percentage of the population have suicidal impulses quite regularly. Well you'd have to be one of them if you read this crap.

Until then....