Friday 31 January 2014

ft Sean Paul, Missy Elliot, Jay-Z, Puff the Magic Diddy...

Well, bugger me backwards!

T'other day I moaned about being offered an IT Professional course on basically how to switch on a laptop and use MS Word.

Today, I hear about a new course - nay, a degree!

So, in a change of career direction, I may take up this course.

And what is this course of practicality? Why - a course in pop tart Beyoncé Knowles!

Who needs web design skillz, accountancy skillz, or even social interactivity skillz? Clearly what I'm missing is a degree in being Crazy In Love with all them Single Ladies who put their hands up.

Right up! Putting a ring on it.

Or "fisting", to put it politely.

Obviously, to get a job, I need B.A.Baracus Honor Blackman in Destiny's Spawn and her altar ego Sasha Barren-Cohen Fierce and the politics of Lady Gaga ramming a sandwich in Beyoncé's plastic sex-doll face while they blather on about broken mirrors and motherfucker reflections on the Telephone.

All academics need instruction in a Bootylicious Nasty Girl if they want that promotion. A deep understanding of Déjà-Vu about one night stands with a Naughty Girl and ending up with a Baby Boy for DNA on Jeremy Kyle.

I reckon some damn fool had just made this up! Some Beautiful Liar, albeit one whose pelvic extremities do not dispel untruths.

Or something.

But being unfamiliar with any of Beyoncé's work, I'm at a mass-disadvantage in the job market, having no knowledge of a singular title of her musical compositions.

So I'll just have to sign on. Using my initals only.
XO

Thursday 30 January 2014

Boys & girls of every age...

Skellington Infinity!

Oooh, gate to Hallowe'entown!

Who needs to grow up?

Not me - I'm gonna be a child for a while!

Wednesday 29 January 2014

Royal Fail...

Bleed in' typical, innit!

Royal Mail, guaranteed delivery, 29th Jan.

10:50: Ringly Dingly Dancing Dwarf:
      "Y'erlo"
      "Xym, you about for coffee later"
      "Well, I be awaiting a delivery. I can get into t'City this arvo"
      "Laterz Taterz"
      "Spudz Bloodz"

So, post Jeremy Kyle, Wright Stuff on +1 finishes, Babylon 5 ends... No post

And it's 1pm - time for Disappeared (followed by Jeremy Kyle double bill on ITV2, then...)

Fuck it!

13:01: Tippety tappety texty message:
      "Sod it. If they int here by half-past, Teh Xym is a-getting the 20 to bus! Should be in City about 2ish"
      "Cool Beanz!"

13:31: Leave house
13:32: Return to retrieve specs wot I forgot to put on
13:33: Re-leave house...
           ...wait for bus...
           ...keep eye out for Royal Mail van (just in case)...
13:43: Bus turns up 5 mins late 

Drinkey drinkey, biscuit bitey, singularity of Barista Babe for lechment thereof, pop over to CEX, refuse to pay £15 for a second hand Vanellope what's £8.49 new on Amazon (or £9.98 or 3 for 2, making it £6.65 new at Toys'Я'Us), pop to Game and slashed priced Tonto Story, back to CEX for hexagonal disceries, then home...

16:51: Unlock front door. Royal Mail card on floor. Attempted delivery at 13:30!

14 minutes at least before they were even in my area!

Time travelling PostFolk.

Bastards!

Tuesday 28 January 2014

Dumb down, deeper dumbed down...

Oooh, IT course offer!I

Well, my IT is out of date - it's all VB, COBOL, JCL, DB2, SQL, Mainframe, etc, and it seems employers these days want new esoteric stuffs with names like PHP, C#, .NET, MCV, XML, LINQ, NuGet and Ajax...

...so I assume they're after a coder who is also a dab hand with the old scouring cleanser.

Or, if you had a wizardy man of the Julian Sands variety, you could dispatch him out with the Ajax, to bring back his botty.

or something,

Anyhoo, thought I'd check out the course, being £600 cheaper than the half price £2250 courses!

So what would I learn for £400 over three days in a classroom in London?

Day One: Learn how to create a document, save it and print the result.
Day Two: Learn how to create a presentation, from a simple slide to including images and animated text
Day Three: Learn how to create a spreadsheet, compute formulas and display charts/graphs.

In other words - how to use Word, PowerPoint and Excel! That's not fecking IT - that's basic PC use! 

Maybe I should cash in on this - start my own "IT" courses. £200 quid, and I'll train you how to open Internet Explorer (or Chrome), how to find and browse a website, and how to buy something off've Amazon. Bang! You're an IT expert now!

What? Website build? Server and Database maintenance? Application Development? Sod all that shit - offshore it off to India where it can be fucked up professionally at great expense. Here in England, we do proper IT - and that's Windows XP (Windows 7 if we really have to) with Word, PowerPoint and Excel. 

That leave more time for videoconferencing, with that Pretties webcam strategically repositioned...

...under the desk...

Bloody professional IT course, my arse!

Monday 27 January 2014

The messiah is my Sister...

On Saturday, I finally took delivery of my Xmas present off me sister.

I loves my sister!

I can't bear to start eating it. It just sits there making me all happy.

I look at it, and think "Awww, my sister loves me"

Best. Present. Ever.

Dedicated to my fab sis Jo:

Sunday 26 January 2014

Gordoors Alive!...

Oh, if Jim Morrison was alive today, he'd be rather upset to find himself somewhat entombed, which would be most distressing for him.

Anyhoo, me & my Sister went to see The Doors Alive, who are like, The Doors, but not the dead ones reanimated. In fact, they really should be called The Doors Imitating The Doors If The Doors Reformed And The Dead Ones Were Reanimated To Give The Illusion The Doors Are Still Alive. 

Or TDITDITDRATDOWRTGTITDASA for short. or something.

Anyhoo, the band itself were quite good - "Jim Morrison" sounded quite accurate, "John Densmore" looked haircutly impressive, although nothing like the modern day John Carpenter lookylikey. "Ray Manczarek" needs a new organ. Quite a few duff oscillatory tuned notes, and one hell of a misskey. Oh, and Mr Morrisson got the words of Light My Fire wrong.

But on the whole, really enjoyed it!

What spoiled it was a triplity of pissflappy cuntnuggets. 

Now, I don't mind people dancing in the mosh pit at gigs. Heck, I'm one of the first to moan about the motionless old glimmers too old to party cramming the front. What I take exception to is cockwranglers who need 5 feet of space around them.

Not because they're dancing. It's more that they're incessantly falling and recovering due to imbibing inebriating beverages, rather than actually dancing.

It began with the Tenerifie Lady, who was writhing about the railings in a MOST pleasing manner... but it was her 2 strange men causing the problem.

Constant streams of beer, lots of screaming out-of-time, staggering into people, barging about, and generally being a pair of arses annoying everyone. 

But the Cuntmeister...

...oh, this twatbag was hammered before the support had even finished. It's was so bad, he left for the bar, came back, danced for about a second and forgot he had beer, his lolloping arms casting it all over all and sundry. 

So the wankered fucker went off for more beer.

And more.

And more.

So, by the time Them There Living Porticos came on, he was thrashing about madly like Bez on a freakout. Stomping on coats, bags, feet and generally tumbling about in a 6ft area with much tuttage and exasperation from all.

Eventually, he went off for more beer, and the space filled up.

And who ended up in that space?

Me. Ousted from my prime spot at the front, and forced further into the corner.

And everyone was having a nice time.

Then arsedicker returned, lumbering and shoving till he got back to where he was. Which is now where some of us are. And all atmos is ruined as he starts staggering about.

And then he pissed his pants.

And we know this not because of his clammy bare chest or dampened low slung trews brushing up against us. Oh no.

It's the fœtid ammonial aroma arising from him. Whatever he'd had for tea, or been drinking, created a urinary miasma of such stench, even the copious quantities of eCig smoke didn't drive it out.

Then he left for more beer! Hurrah...

And came back again. Boo.

And left... and back... and...

Why is it I attract troublesome types? I must have a Fucking Cunt magnet that draws in all the ignorant, selfish, bullish, arrogant self-centred gobshites into a circle with me trapped in the epicentre?

Still, damn good show though!


Saturday 25 January 2014

Pixym's model...

Well, I was sat in Starbucks perving over my Barrista Babes partaking of a Gingybread latté & Xymnamon Swirl when Kelso turned up with an announcement.

There is an Art Gallery where Past Tymes used to be, and some painter man is flogging a picture of The Xym for only £595!

What's this? Art thou sure?
Oh yes, they've nicked your now legendary image!  Twiddly 'tashe, purple top hat - you should sue them for using yer copyrighted image!

Surely not! Although Xym is an inspiration to all who encounter him, lingering in the memory like a recurring nightmare. If anyone's going to immortalize Xym on canvas, it's more likely to be some malformed Lovecratian eldritch horror!

So, I stropped off to see this portrayal of Xym.

And thar be Xym, encapsulated as an 'orrible beastie on one of his many trips to Lon-don (to buy Heat magazine). And indeed, there is purple millinery and twiddly 'tashery.

And even this artist thinks Xym's gay, coz this interpretation has Xym firmly grasping the top of St Stephen's shaft with his body wrapped around the main phallic tower. And to make matters worse, the purple hairy Xymbeast is making the international symbol of Fisting!

And just like Xym, it's hæmorrhaging cash! 

Well, I'm most displeased. Who'd've thunk it, (piss)artists ripping off The Xym's now legendary image and casting him as as some preposterous purple primate gripping St Stephen's tower...

...although, apparently, it was renamed during the Queens Jubly celebrations recently. Seems Her Madge has spent 50 years on "The Throne" (aka toilet) due to incessant guzzling of the pyramidial fruity Icey lolly, and so they're renamed it Elizabeth Tower.

So Big Ben is now ensconced deep in the top of Elizabeth's Tower, rather than the bell-end of St Stephen's shaft. or something.

Anyhoo, enough talk - let's see this expensive charicature for comparison...
Hold on - I don't recall wearing chains on me cufflinked cuffs!!

Friday 24 January 2014

This is the BBC - the Big Black Co-aaaarrrggh...

The Xym Be a Writey Man and hath been published once more!

Not for many years has Xym seen print - not since 1997 under his original name with his short tale for Sproutlore (Author's preferred text can be found on this blog here)

Unfortunately, being limited to only 4-6 short paragraphs meant I could not do Margaret J the justice of a full blog, but my truncated witterings may provide some amusement.

Check out Lhyme and my article here: Margaret J featuring Spotted Dick (without Suet)

And be sure to check out the video too! 

And because it's a commissioned piece, I won't be expanding the short article with additional musings here, so you'll have to make do with the piece above.

Wotcha fink - has I gots it in me to become one of them there journos, making me living off've writing down wordy stuffs

Thursday 23 January 2014

I vill 'weight' for you...

Get to ze chopper! 

You've seen that Undercover Boss program, where High Profile execs go to work among their scummy staff in ludicrous disguises to "see how the business really works" by working alongside gormsters who are too thick to realise they're being filmed for Secret Millionairre because their offspring are dying (or almost died) because they themselves have cancer for working to support their dear little white haired old mother who is crippled with Arthur Eye Tits.

or something.

Anyhoo, some famous bodybuilder muscleyman decided to do something similar. Don a disguise, pretend to be the manager of a gym, and wander about handing out advice.

But who is this mystery man? Armed only with the Nintendo 'tashe of one Mario Mario and a cap, this "Gym Owner" went about all unrecognisable like...
Who the fuck could it be? Jesse 'The Body With An Arsehole In His Chin' Ventura? Dolphin Lungerungerungeren? John Clawed Van Dame? Sylvester Stallion? Perhaps if he speaks to these fitness freaks...

"By Crom! Let's put some meat on your muscle - it you heave, we can build it! Keep it up - I'll be back to check on your progress. Bench pressing is not French kissing. You need a sauna? Don't sweat it! I need your clothes, your boots and your motorcycle.. now put on this gym kit."

Like many gullible Americans, even with that distinctive voice, I just can't place this Mr Universe. Damn, that's a good disguise! I find myself utterly taken in by his convincing act. Just like I believed in Twins, Kindergarten Cop, and Junior.

OMG! It's Bruised Willies, isn't it!!!

Wednesday 22 January 2014

Choctor Poo...

Blimey - some peoples will sell anything!

Chocolate Starfishies!

Yes, actual chocolate Starfishies, from "a sphincter model whose trunk is as fine as the chocolates themselves"

Say whaaaaaaat? Where the feck do you find a professional sphincter model? OK, I saw a documentary a while back where Lisa Rogers out of Scrapheap Challenge had a mould of her minge made and hung on a wall, but sticking plaster of paris up yer poop chute for chocolate?

The mind veritably boggles!

If you thought cuntcakes and japanese twatflap cake was bad enough, they've taken a mould of some pretties asshole, and cast it in chocolate!

I've seen chocolate hob-nobs and nipples in the Adult section of Novelty Shops in Great Y'ha-n'thlei, but butthole delicacies I have never seen before.

And now, you too can virtually rim a Pretties dirtbox, as depicted by this salivating sexy siren suggestively sampling a sphincter sweetie:

Tuesday 21 January 2014

You hum it, I'll play it...

Yay! Looks like they're hiring PG Chimps again!

Whilst bewailing our job situation, we meandered down to one of them there Employment Agencies, and this was in the display outside:
A large aminal assistant!

Not a human assistant, an aminal assistant! And a large one at that!

And if they can't get a great big aminal, they want a "stock person".

And just who is the stock person? As everyone knows off the telly, it's Marco Pierre White.

Who not only made Gordon Ramsey burst into tears like a baby girl denied a Barbie and glittery cake, but he's now the Knorr Whore, flogging their dissolving jellyfied stock blobs.

And what it Marco also known as? The Great White Shark!

A larger aminal indeed!

So what chance has I gots of findings a job, when they want the dark, menacing brooding Marco for sick squid an hour? More chance of finding a jobby, if you ask me :(

Monday 20 January 2014

Xym's list of exciting stuff (Feb '14)...

Februhairy
5th Grimm: Season 3 - Showing in the UK on Watch
7th Robocop - in cinemas
10th Clive Barker's Lord Of Illusions - Blu-Ray released
14th The Lego Movie - in cinemas
17th John Dies At The End - Yay! Blu-Ray released in the UK!!
22nd Liqueur: A Tribute To The Cure - playing at The O2, Islington
?? Blake's 7: Classic Audio Adventures #2 - New audio drama: Battleground

March
14th Maleficent - in cinemas. Angelina Jolie cast as Maleficient .
28th Captain America: The Winter Soldier - in cinemas
tba Blake's 7: Classic Audio Adventures #3 - New audio drama: Drones

Rest of 2014
01 Apr 2014 War Of The Worlds: Goliath - Blu-Ray finally released!
?? Apr 2014 Blake's 7: Classic Audio Adventures #4 - New audio drama: Mirror
29 Apr 2014 Sin City 2: A Dame To Kill For - in cinemas
02 May 2014 The Amazing Spider-Man 2 - in cinemas
16 May 2014 Godzilla - reboot in cinemas
23 May 2014 X-Men: Days Of Future Past - in cinemas
30 May 2014 Malificent - in cinemas
?? May 2014 Blake's 7: Classic Audio Adventures #5 - New audio drama: Cold Fury
?? May 2014 Blake's 7: The Liberator Chronicles #8 - New audio drama(s)
?? Jun 2014 Blake's 7: Classic Audio Adventures #6 - New audio drama: Caged
10 Jul 2014 Transformers 4: Age Of Extinction - in cinemas
17 Jul 2014 Dawn of the Planet of the Apes - in cinemas
01 Aug 2014 Guardians of the Galaxy - in cinemas
25 Aug 2014 Evangelion 3.33: You Can [not] Redo - released on Blu-Ray
?? Aug 2014 Blake's 7: The Liberator Chronicles #9 - New audio drama(s)
?? Aug 2014 Fool's Assassin - First in a new trilogy about Fitz and The Fool, by Robin Hobb
12 Sep 2014 Resident evil 6 - in cinemas
?? Sep 2014 Being Frank: The Chis Sievey Story - DVD//Blu-ray released. Bio-pic about Chris Sievey/Frank Sidebottom
17 Oct 2014 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - in cinemas
24 Oct 2014 Paranormal Activity 5 - in cinemas - will it never end?!?!?
21 Nov 2014 Hunger Games 3: Mockingjay pt 1 - in cinemas
19 Dec 2014 Hobbit #3: There And Back Again - in cinemas
?? ??? 2014 Cute Little Buggers - Killer Rabbits from Outer Space!
?? ??? 2014 Nightbreed: The Cabal Cut - released on Blu-Ray

2015
?? Apr 2015 Crimson Peak - Guillero Del Toro movie in cinemas
01 May 2015 Avengers: Age Of Ultron - in cinemas. Joss Whedon writer/director! Script now has Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch
15 May 2015 Mad Max: Fury Road - in cinemas
12 Jun 2015 Jurassic Park 4: Jurassic World: 3D - in cinemas
17 Jul 2015 Batman vs Superman - in cinemas
06 Nov 2015 Ant-Man - in cinemas
20 Nov 2015 Hunger Games 3: Mockingjay pt 2 - in cinemas

2016
27 May 2016 X-Men: Apocalypse - in cinemas
?? ??? 2016 Pirates Of The Carribean: Dead Men Tell No Tales - in cinemas

Rumour Mill
Film Terminator: Genesis - Part prequel, Part sequel, Part reboot…
TV The Elfstones Of Shannara - MTV developing Terry Brooks' Shannara into a series.
TV Rosemary's Baby - Series to be aired on NBC
TV Stephen King's The Mist - 10-part series (seriously, 10 episodes?)

Sunday 19 January 2014

If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be braiding...

Beards.

I admit to having a slight toblerone merkin on me chin, but there are those who enjoy great lengths of facial furniture.

A length that requires it to be braided into a dwarven style to keep it under control.

But it's very length defies control, as you sit at table, for often it will dip unnoticed into your caffeinated beverage of choice. or tea. Even cameltoe tea.

But is this liquid contact accidental at all?

Perhaps it hides a BrundleFly proboscis, hidden within the hairy braids? Sucking up liquids through a hidden beardy straw... or does the hairy human feed by capillary action? As the tip of Gimli's twat tickler engages with the mocha meniscus, does it draw up the fluid along it's braided channels and into the corners if it's mouth?

Who knows?

Not me, but what I do know is that with a great length of slim chinbeard, you could roll it up around a pencil with some product, and remove the pencil when it's set.

Then you have a chin coil spring thing!

Not only will it prevent impregnation when performing oral sex, but it can be utilised to power clockwork stuffs, and literally turn your visage into a steampunk watch face!

Attach a couple of hands to your nose, and hey presto! What time is it? Well, the big hand is on forehead, the little hand on right eye - 1 o'clock! Oh, it's mouth to left cheek - must be half nine!

And all powered by naught but spring loaded facial foliage!

How come them there Greybeards never think up this stuff? Call themselves clever? They spend years playing with iron filings and litmus paper to prove black holes are caused by 2 Higg's bo'suns havin it off, and I come up with an environmentally practical idea off the too of me head!

Wasted, I am. Wasted, I tell you! All this genius going to waste when I could be time travelling via the use of chronological cheese.

Time after time!

Saturday 18 January 2014

The Box, you rectified it, we came...

Oooh, didn't take as long as me thoughted!

The Liberator - finisheded off:

And here be the corrected faces of the Lament Configuration.
Priapus Intaglio:
Amaimon Intaglio:
Serat Intaglio:

Now all I has to do is work out the correct dimensions to split the model & create the Star configuration!

Friday 17 January 2014

Whilst Hive is busy annoying the Hell out of Xym...

Why aren't you surfing on cab
Because it's dangerous!
Going to visit your mad dad
Erm, (a) me dad's not mad, and (b) he's dead. Thanks for nothing "Hive"
Or shopping for some trousers
When it starts snowing on your schnowsers
Whoa! Hold on there - what the fuck're "schnowsers"? There's no such thing! And assuming I has more than one schnowser, why would they be exposed, let alone stationary long enough to have some form of icy build up on them?
While Hive is busy controlling your heating at home
By Hive, you mean British Gas, in order to con people it's not the shitearse British Gas by claiming to be "Hive"

You could bemaking origami
From a slice of beef pastrami
No, you couldn't. It's unhygenic, and you can't fold pastrami like paper - it's too thin and floppy!
Or having a kick about
With a team of giant trout
No, you couldn't. Apart from the cruelty to fish, forcing them to play football, they would asphyxiate due to being out of water well before the kick off. And you couldn't play against "giant" trout. Unless you're in Fukushima.
While British Gas ain't controlling my heating at home

Being naughty in the park
And being out on a register 
Racing badgers for a lark
Avian prizes are not acceptable sports trophies. Besides, the badgers are all covered in TB and culled, so you wouldn't want to race them anyways!
Or taking your parrot to Milan
Like, why? And it'd get impounded by customs, and you'd be arrested for illegally immigrating wildlife like a smug smuggler smuggling pirated parrots. or something.
With absolutely no idea or plan
Hence the airport arrest.
While Hive is busy at pissing The Xym off at home

I really loathe that advert!


Thursday 16 January 2014

The NDubz Gate...

You know when you're walking through Chav'll Thieve Gardens and you come across the abandoned detrius of unwanted rubbish?

Such as an invalided relative who's been dumped in the park coz they're too much hassle and making you pay too much Council Tax.

Which is stupid, coz chucking out your wheelchair bound Davros means their bedroom's now available, and you have to pay millions in Bedroom Tax.

But depositing the disabled in the wintery climes of the sunny park is a bit too far to walk, so you just leave them in the entrance walkway. Half way down. Facing the low stone wall.

Still, better than the pair of dumbass bitches who wandered over to Chav'll Thieve Gardens, then stood in the entrance gateway with a bike held across the opening like a gate, blocking all ingress & egress. 

Grrrr.

But all that depressive gormstery was blown from the mind, on leaving the park and seeing a Johnny Depp lookylikey opposite waiting to cross!

You know, one of them blokes who's friend has mentioned in passing "oooh, you look ever so slightly like Johnny Depp!" and they go all out to mimic the facial furniture and attire.

Which sorta fails when they are a diminutive 4ft 6in high.

Wearing a Dappy-Out-Of-NDubz hat like a twat. A twat like Dappy in that twatty hat, but trying to flaunt the Depp 'look' underneath. Imagine, Cap'n Jack Sparrow with his bandana replaced by that fucking wooly hat with the dangly furry bollocks.

Johnny Depp? Johnny Dappy, more like!

Wednesday 15 January 2014

Iiiiiiiiiiiii liberate...

Fired up from yesterday, I cracked on with The Liberator!

Armed only with an old model guide, a craply put together plastic kit I made years ago, and some TV screenshots, I got a fair way in, and it's looking pretty good so far!

Actually, all that's left to do is all on the central core:
● Laser cannon on nose
● Nose fin
● Rear-end housing for the power core
● Power core

The latter are the most problematic, mainly the design of the core container, and getting the light green lines on the dark green ball. That may take a while, and I may not get a chance to play till next week, so - here is a preview of progress so far...

Wireframe model: 
Basic render:
Textured render:
Full scene:

Tuesday 14 January 2014

Mind The #BoxGap...

No, not that CGI! 3D modelling!

A few years back, I created a Fighting Machine based on Michael Trimm's tripod for Jeff Wayne (see below).

Rather than rebuild it, thought I'd do a handling machine, but that seems to be somewhat even more fiddly, so instead I tried creating LeMarchand's Lament Configuration...

...and boy did it turn out good for a first attempt!
[EDIT 17th Jan: Arse - there are actually FIVE different panels, not 3! The top & bottom are the same, but the side panels are slightly different. Will correct this once I finish the B7 glass cube logo)

So, to showcase my CGI work, I'm creating a virtual cabinet of my 3D modelling for me facebook cover! So, here is version #1, with the Tripod and three boxes (to show off the three faces). Shame there's light bleed from the martian. Oh well.


The 2 Alice frames will probably change - maybe Catwoman on one wall with Harley Quinn (arkham Asylum game version) opposite... or maybe just the Bellatrix Lestrange wanted poster! May even add glass, rather than just a wood frame.

I think next model will be The Liberator from Blake's 7, and if I can, make the B7 logo out of glass cubes! 

Creative Xym is creative once more...

As mentioned above, my first tripod build:

Monday 13 January 2014

Fuck you, Shima...

So, that Fukushima blowed up, filling the Japanese seas with radioactive monster mutation essence, so it was only a matter of time before Gojira arose once more!

And slowly, but surely, unspeakable things are emerging from the deep to expire on the Fukushima shores.

First, we got Fukuppy,  some kind of mutant Pokémon adopted as a mascot.

Then, recently, a great big fuck-off Whorefish washed up. Nothing new about that - Whorefish are fucking massive anyway, and believed by many to be the origin of the sea serpent "myth". But these are GIANT oarfishies! 

And just a month ago, a kraken washed up. 160lb of giant chthonic colossal killer cephalopod, all suckery tentacles snatching up Japanese sunbathers and gobbling them up with it's terrible gnashing beak.
And today, the Fukushima folk are trying to convince us it's all a hoax, and their genetic behemoths that would trample us all under-tentacle are just made up scaremongering.

As if! The power plant leaked nuclear abnormality accelerant into the oceans, and we're all going to be overrun by supersized psychotic sushi!

Did they never learn from the Tagruato incident? Mining for milfshake sludge, they awoke a monstrosity that swam over to New York, ripped the bonce off the Statue Of Liberty, and then buggered up Central Park.

And unless they stop this cover-up and tell us the truth, we'll be woefully underprepared when a killer clam and pissed off puffer fish of ginormous size invade Castle Mall Gardens and rip the bonce off the Lion Statue outside City Hall!

Sunday 12 January 2014

I came in (your hair) like a goldfish bowl...

"Roll up, roll up, all the fun of the hair! Step right in, Sir! A finer coiffure of such wanton abandon you will never see! See it's erectile verticality - yes boys, this is one fine follicle arrangement you don't take home to your momma! Yes siree, this is memory you will take to your grave, a cranial adornment you will NEVER forget! Gentlemen, I give you Xym's Barnet to bugger!"

Say whaaaaaaat?!?!?!

Clearly The Xym is sporting one of them there "hidden indicators" what tell "those in the know" he's gay, when he clearly ain't.

You know, like wearing them low slung jeans with yer ass hanging out and pants on show means "I've been in prison for, like, ages and stuff, and I'm lowering my trousers to indicate I want someone to do me up the shitbox"

Obviously there's Something About Xymni that sends out a message that gayboys interpret as "oh hello, there's a fellow gayboy" resulting in the misinterpretation of Xym sexuality and last nights offer of Cameron Diazerry.

For after heaping much praise up one one's luscious locks, a request was made as to whether he could copulate with the crimpy Mohawk of lustful arousal.

He wanted to sex my hair! To fuck my fullsome follicle forestry with his fapped up phallus! To bukkake my barnet!

Ewwwwwww!

Well, that certainly put the wind up my manly mane (coz no-one putting the willies up MY plumage!) and from then on it was doomed. Rapidly descending into a wilted impotent mop, and where Princess Fiona might like to take Adam Sandler's chucked muck into her quiff (queef?) to stiffen her alicorn, I refuse to let another man jizz in my mowie just to maintain perfect plumage!

If anyone knows what the hidden signal for "I am gay" is, please let me know so I can remove it - I have no desire for unwarranted surreptitious spunkings to gel up my hair!

It would make my hair look terrible under the UV lights.

Saturday 11 January 2014

Do you believe in the FriendZone...

♪ A yellow sun was rising in Norfolk
Xymni had gone but not to his home
Like a freak, The Xym, all the Pretties think he's gay
O'er the wind and dust you hear them say
"Do you believe in the FriendZone" ♪

Right, clearly I's getting old, as them young guns (what go for it) garner more & more incomprehensible incomprehensibilities, such as Dryathleting and FriendZoning.

Now, I thought "The FriendZone" was... your circle of friends. So, when you're friends, you're in the FriendZone. When you have a huge bust up, then you're outta the FriendZone. Fuck off - you no friend of mine.

But today, I find out it's not.

Apparently, The FriendZone is "People you don't want to shag", and by "escaping the FriendZone" means you've become eminently fuckable. even by all your friends. or something.

Which confuses me, for them young 'uns and their new fangled fashions all have them "FuckBuddies" because they invented it to sex-up TouchCloth to make it more adult than Dr Who when shown at teatime.

But these mythical FuckBuddies are friends you shag because you haven't got anyone to shag, so friends help each other out. Which surely puts them slap ban in the middle of this "FriendZone"...

...with the emphasis on the slapping & banging.

Perhaps Facebook should recategorize it's Friend Request. Once someone ads you as a friend, you drop them into a friend category:
Non-FriendZone 1: Family
Non-FriendZone 2: Gits I work with but loathe but had to add them coz I work with them. Bastards.
FriendZone 1: Friends I'm just a friends with
FriendZone 2: Friends I'm fucking till I find a partner
FriendZone 3: Friends I'm fucking, and will cheat with after I find a partner
FriendZone 4: Friends who are munterescent trolls - never fucking any of them
FriendZone 5: Friends I wouldn't mind fucking
FriendZone 6: Friends who are friends purely coz I want to fuck 'em
FriendZone 7: Friends who are friends only because they have to be, coz they're friends with a proper friend and you have to befriend them in case they feel left out or upset
FriendZone 8: Friends I've made at work, but wouldn't shag
FriendZone 9: Friends from work I would shag
FriendZone 10: Friends I REALLY wanna roger senseless given half the chance 
FriendZone 11: Friends just to monitor relationship status, so you can boff 'em as soon as they become single...

Etc, etc...

"FriendZone" my arse!


Friday 10 January 2014

Poor Xym's head, poor Xym's head, Zombie Xymni...

Not much in the way of bloggery again, because I've been Ill.

Not ill in a Pretend-To-Be-Ill-To-Avoid-Stuffs ill, but actually ill as in confined and barely able to move ill.

I almost died on Saturday. Literally. But unfortunately for you lot, I survived. Just. But it was a very near miss. One shall try and kick the bucket properly next time. 

Thought I was on the mend, and then became mega-sick on Weds.

I have replenished my stocks of urghy Lemsip (Apple & Cinnamon!), and has been devouring them like there's no tomorrow.

Which there almost wasn't on Sat!

Anyhoo, I's now been up for well over 24 hours (now that's what I call... anarchy!) and not at all sleepy.

Damn you non-drowsy formula and cough.

Still, attempted to become a writey man, and has submitted an article... which may prove to be a but too bloggy for publication. In which case, pending rejection, it may appear here! 

♫ Friday, Fry-Day
Sausage bacon and fried egg
Everybody's waiting for some big black pudding ♫

If you know what I mean, and I'm sure that you don't. But you will. Oh boy, will you...

Saturday 4 January 2014

Lucy, are you sure you're not going along as his 'gal pal'...

Why is it always me?

So, me & my Sister are at HitParade & 80s night, and it's pretty empty apart from a few groups of dancing Pretties.

And I finds meself alongside a pair of continental cuties as that there son always shites on the TV.

"Excuse-a me plaise, vot eez diss?"
"It's A-Ha. Morten Harkett? The Sun Always Shines On TV. "
"Ay cannot daynse to diss!"
"just go with it, feel the rhythm!"

So we carry on dancing, and (as ever) get separated as more dancers fill the floor.

Nip out to the smoking area to cool down... and there's the little red dressed pretty, so we joins her at table.

"Hola! What you do out here?"
"We've come out to cool down after all that dancin'"
"I really want to dance with you, but dance on your own"
"You should have said something or come & joined me!"
"You have rhythm. You has moves"

Now, here's Xym thinking "Blimey! A Pretty taking an interest in Xym... and Xym bantering back! Looks like I'm actually gonna pull this time!"

"You are gay, yes?"
"WHAT?"
"You are gay"
"No! I'm not gay at all!!"
"You are not gay?"
"NO!"
"But you don't look very masculine"
"                     !"
"And you dance... you really aren't gay? Are you sure"

At that point, her friend dragged her off apologetically for her inebriated desire to be a "fag hag". or something, 

And then, on the stairs, my Sister was taking the piss out my Polish accent sounding Welsh... well, Indian, and we think they overheard and got all uppity and left the club.

Just my luck. I'm finally not being hit on by gayboy chavscum, and it turns out the Pretty is only interested in me coz she thinks I'm gay because I'm a fabulous dancer who can move to the beat. And I get dropped like yesterday's jam as soon as she realises I'm definately not gay!

 I'm thinking of thinking of calling her 
right after my afternoon nap. 
I'm thinking of thinking of sending her flowers
right after Bonnie gets back. 
So many fishes left in the sea, 
so many fishes,
but no one for me 

Looks like a need an image revamp. I thought I would remain single for ever, due to the slim chance of meeting a Pretty with a penchant for short fat gothboys with preposterous hair, ludicrous glittered hair, ridiculous twiddle 'tashe, and occasional millinery headgear. 

But no.

Turns out I've no chance with Teh Oretties coz they all thinks I'm gay.

(and I'd just like to reiterate, ladies, despite my dancing skillz - I'M NOT GAY!)

Oh noes - 80s night...