Cowabunghole...

Right, there hath been a lack of bloggery recently due to being busy with new employment, and mentally drained in learning how stuffs work to blog. So apologies for the lack of entertainment. I so apologize for being waaaaay behind on FarceBook - sorry if I've missed any announcements, or liked Pretties pictures, but that newsfeed builds up faster than a Rosberg/Hamilton conspiracy, and I can't keep up!

But, service should be resuming shortly, albeit a tad more intermittently than before.

So, whay has you missed out on?

Well, I now reside in a Data Dohyō, for my official tile of employment is that of Data Ninja! Warm Saké? VERY GOOD!

And talking of Saké - there was Sushi! Not killer sushi, but vast quantitties of diverse dishes, and no whinging about unshelled shellfish!

There has been unwarranted snoggage too!
Oh, that there SLIM Xym is dam well hawt - too many Pretties all desirous of the flouncing follicly pluméd adonis. Sooner or later (and most likely sooner) there's gonna be green-eyed-monstered dames a-fighting in The Watercunt o'er ye Xym. It's almost come to blows already!

In fact, Xym is so hawt, he set a firey alarum off by setting teh Pretties sexes on fire!

What else have we missed this past month?

Oh yeah, slim Xym is a third of the size of the short fat gothboy he once was! 

Oh, there was some kickyball going about as well (Zzzzzzzzzz).

Oooh, ooooh - Escapades down The Whatacunt and The Talk too! Dancing Xym, feeling the beets (not the tangerines). or something.

TWASH! I almost forgot about the Twash! 

And we're not going to talk about Prom. Its the season when the school discos start, so the kidz are getting all dolled up for Prom... IN AMERICA WHERE THEY HAVE PROMENADE! We DON'T do prom here. This is a local disco, for local people - there's nothing for you cherry-poppin' virgins from the USA who're about to be killed off by a masked poltroon with an improbable backstory and ludicrous gimmick here! FFS - they'll be spiking the punch whilst sitting in the bleachers now that semester is over, waiting for Fall so they can go on a school shooting rampage whilst eating a McBurger in BBQ sauce with a bag of potato chips with a soda-pop when hanging at the mall.. 

Prom my best hat! It's the leavers' school disco. Leavers' Ball at a push. Not a twatarse sodding prom. You're a student leaving a British Secondary School - not a sophomore sorority sister fratboy in an American High School.

But anyhoo, these are things lost to the past. We look to the future now (it's only just begun - and it's not even Christmas!).

So I shall be back to bloggage soon, hopefully on a more regular basis.

The Rat Sensei...

♪ Resurrection (intro)
  ♪ I Am Dust
    ♪ Metal
      ♪ Everything Comes Down To This
        ♪ Me
          ♪ Here In The Black
            ♪ The Fall
              ♪ The Calling
                ♪ Down In The Park
                  ♪ Lost
                    ♪ Absolution
                      ♪ Cars
                        ♪ Pure
                          ♪ Splinter
                            ♪ We're The Unforgiven
                              ♪ Love Hurt Bleed
                                ♪ A Prayer For The Unborn
*encore*
♪ I Die You Die
    ♪ Are 'Friends' Electric?
      ♪ My Last Day

Gary Numan, The Waterfront, Norwich, 25th Jun 2014. Support by Roman Remains

Oh, and I was the first to get a ticket - who else has a ticket numbered 00001 for a gig?

Magnificent Maleficent...

Bibbidy bobbidy boob

Bibbidy bobbidy boob

Push 'em together and what have you got?
[kle'varj]
Bibbidy bobbidy bewbs

BEWBS!






YES, I KNOW THE SONG IS FROM CINDERELLA, AND MALEFICENT IS FROM SLEEPING BEAUTY, BUT HOT DAYUM - IT'S ANGELINA JOLIE AS MALEFICENT, SO BEWBS!!!!

Journolixym...

No blog today, for I has had an idea!

Today's blog was to be on the newly discovered Gospel Of Barnabas which will probably end up in the Apocrypha, as it suggests Judas was crucified, not Jesus. And tomorrow's blog would be about Amityville, having just been subjected to the Lovebug Starski video (which had the Stauf Mansion in the video, not the Amityville house. Stauf's house is on a hill, Amityville isn't).

Anyhoo, people keep badgering me to do faux news articles and horrorscopes. I did a Daily Fail one recently as a test, and that worked OK. So I thought today's news about the 1500 gospel discovery would work well in that format.

So... blog split!

News type stuffs go on me website, normal bloggery on here. 

Right, now to create a new webpage... not sure when that'll be published. Might create a few articles first. We'll see...

[Edit 30.05] Feck it - did the Gospel last night/early this morn, & knocked up the Amityville one. News page published and can be found here

Alice presses down on Wall's...

♪ "...With her spatula

In case the spitting sausages

Fall out the pan and on the floor

Alice serves up sausages

She cooks them in her frying pan

She serves them with some eggs and bacon

Cure her pounding hangover

Today..." ♫

Right, ranty times once more!

Wall's make sausages and ice-cream. Funny Feet, Sparkles, Cider Lollies, Feast and succulent sausages. They are NOT, I repeat, NOT manufactures of fashion disasters.

Like the onesie. Unless you're about 3yrs old, you shouldn't be poncing about Primarché in a romper suit.

But that is not my main issue today. Oh dear me, no.

It's the advert and the following competition.

It's not just the dumbed-down-for-fucktards mode of speech by the twatarse with the irritating voice: "Introducing the wall'sie, onesies you can wear down the shopsies" (which makes one want to punch the odious narrator right in the tits), but then goes on to claim: "One for the Goths - cheer up mate!"

Now, here is a pictorial representation of the aforementioned "Goth", and a prize of the so-called "Goth Onesie":

Hold up a minute..

Where's the Goth demonstrating the gothic onesie prize?

Nowhere to be seen!

What we do have is a bloody chavvy EMO in a Heavy/Death Metal onesie, embarrassing the Goth scene with their miserable mopings!

This is like saying "Win a Hip-Hop Hoodie" and having a Onesie decorated with images of One Direction worn by a 12yr old girl. 

Wall's should stick to dogs in their adverts. Dogs that talk about sausages humourously, rather than delving into the world of fashion and getting their musical genre's all incorrect.

In fact, I do believe that Hate Crime was expanded to include us Goths - surely telling us to "cheer up" is abuse! Just because Wall's are incompetent at distinguishing Goths from morose muppety EMOS, it shouldn't mean we should be tarred with the same brush! 

Sue Wall's, says I, and feed me compensation in the form a lifetime's supply of fried sausages for tea!

I am, however, intrigued by the blurred out onesies in the background. If misrepresenting Goths wasn't bad enough, it appears that the other 4 options are Stephanie Off Of Lazytown Onesie, Sad Golfer Onesie, Bearded Tranny In Tights And Padded Bra Onesie, and some form of Yellow Caped Crusader Crossly Crossing Arms Onesie.

Well, now I'm not sure which I'm more enraged about! Melancholic EMO miseries masquerading as Goffs, or the fact that the Stephanie Off Of Lazytown Onesie does have the pink hair alongside Rotten Robbie the golfer...

...I think that Batbloke's yellow cape has a blue collor may edge it in the annoyance stakes, as it's too much We wanted Batman & Bananaman, but can't afford the rights, so combined the two to make Batanaman, which has no rights attached. probably.

I don't have a problem with the bearded tranny one though - it is, after all, quite accurate and would blend in quite well in the City Centre.

But claiming that outfit is a "goth" onesie... well, that grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous EMO of yore was ne'er a goth. Nevermind nevermore...

Bloody EMOs, coming over here, stealing our genre title, supplanting our music with their metallic noise, imposing their foreign rituals of self harm and taking over the space outside The Forum, bringing the atmosphere down with their sullen silence in solitary isolation in their groups, being all youthful and have never even heard any actual Goth music. 

Goth onesie my best hat.

Sumer Is Icumen In, Chris is 92...

Happy Birthday Siouxsie Sioux!

Well, I would be about to embark on a listening of Mantaray, The Scream, Juju or my Greatest Hits DVD...

But it's also Christopher Lee's Birthday! 92 today! You wouldn't think it, but Christopher Lee is 92 years old!! 

And what landed on my mat this afternoon?

Only The Wicker Man: The Final Cut on Blu-Ray Steelbook!

So guess I'll be a-watching that in a minute then!

I would have posted a video link of the most terrifying moment in film - Christopher Lee painted up in a dress and long black wig, dancing along to Procession - but StudioCanal have blocked all videos on the web :(

So you'll have to imagine it - and as ever, by imagining my pictorial of the Londinium Opening Ceremony is animatory and listening to the music on the youtube...

That's not real cream, that's FOOL'S cream...

"I scream, you scream, and everyone's creaming it off down in Cornwall..."

So, this fair morrow I was off watching time-wimey exy mensies, which was cool, but then I went off to the Longwater fête in Costessey. 

Now, Sarah Connor famously carved "no fête" on a table in the Mexico desert, because she was fed up at the lack of local banditos having a shootout over a piñata whilst guzzling down Tequila and  trying not to spill Chilli Burritos all down your poncho. So son John read it, and realised she meant "no fête except that what you make for yourself" and had buggered off to do a car boot with Miles Dyson. Or do Mike Dyson on a car boot. Either way, she intended to prevent him creating an assassinatory machination of murderous cyborgian hoovers.

Anyhoo, whilst tramping about the fête and mingling with various groups of aquaintances¹, I came upon another revelation.

Queues at food vending venues are exponentially proportional to the volume and quantity of purchases!

Now, this came about due to yet another poor quality food service and pissmidget queuejumping twatwankers. To whit², queueing for ages to get a maple syrup & bacon waffle, waiting impatiently in line, and as the people in front are being served, some baldy fat cunt walks up to the front as if perusing the menu board, and as the chef hands over the chocolatey waffles - the portly pigfucker just orders his vast tonne of grub, the greedy fat cunt, much to the chagrin of all those in the queue. And he got served too, the selfish cockgobbling twatbag!!

Anyhoo, when lardbucket fucks off, protectively clutching his multiple snacks and wolfing them down as he barges through the busy thoroughfare, I finally gets to be served:
"I'll have the Americano - mmmm, maple syrup and bacon!"
"Sorry mate, ain't got no bacon!"

Well, I would have made complaint, but as I'm in all manner of doghouses at present for legitimately complaining, I kept me great fat gob shut tight, stropped off, and went looking for ice-cream.

Now - if you want an ice-cream, and there's no queue - you wander up, buy an ice-cream, done.

If there's a person just in front, they will buy 2 ice-creams.

If there are three, each will buy three. Eventually. For each will stop to persuse the pictures of the ices on display before deciding on 3 99s. 

If there's four people in the queue, you then note each order more than 4 ices, spend ages umming and ahhing over the menu, then spend ages going through their change to work out what sizes they can afford. And it's always loose change - never notes.

There was a fair few in front of me, and I noted each was buying multiple multiples of icey treats.

The couple in front of me bought 10 ice creams. TEN! TWO people, bought TEN! You know how long it takes to work out the cost of 10x £1.80, then slowly use the slow sludge dispenser, recieve each and holler out for someone to push through the throng and retrieve their ice-cream, and once all ices dispensed then start counting out your coppers?

Fucking ages!
And the Red Bull flavour ice-cream wasn't worth £2.30, I'll tell you that for nowt!!

Still, quicker than the bloody waffle stand, that cooked waffles to order. Two at a time. Then spent time trimming the waffles with scissors before spending ages slowly decorating the delicate creations.

And after they'd finished shaving their vadge and facepainting on a vajazzle, they spent ages cutting the edges off the brevilled batter and applying various adhesive liquids and toppings.

But a fun day out though... despite having to purchase a Shania Twain CD in front of my friends, and ruining all my street cred.

Yeah, I'm an old-school Goth... and I likes Shania Twain too. So ner.

¹ MAKING SURE I SPEND TIME WITH EVERYONE, SO NO-ONE FEELS LEFT OUT, SNUBBED, IGNORED, AND GETS ALL HUFFITY WITH ME, AS IS THE CURRENT TREND AT THE MOMENT. HOWEVER, I DID MISS OUT THE PHWOARDER, THROUGH NO FAULT OF MY OWN. BUT ON THE PLUS SIDE, ANOTHER OF THE TRIPLICITY OF ULTIMATE PRETTIES WAS PRESENT, SO... SWINGS AND ROUNDABOUTS, REALLY. WELL, CENTRIFUGAL WALLS OF DEATH & CALLIOPE CAROUSEL HORSES.

² TO WHO? TO THE STALL WHO WERE OFFERING £3 TO STROKE A BIRD. ONLY £3 TO RUFFLE AN OWL'S FEATHERS, WHICH SEEMS PRETTY CHEAP COMPARED TO THEM LADIES TRAINED IN THOSE ARTS THAT AMUSE MEN YOU SEE ON CRIMWATCH AND THE BILL. 
THEY DID HAVE A REALLY CUTE LITTLE OWL THOUGH. LOOKED LIKE A FLUFFY PENGUIN. I WANTS ONE!
"BUT XYM, THEY'RE NOCTURNAL. THEY'LL KEEP YOU UP ALL NIGHT"
"I WOULDN'T MIND A BIRD KEEPING ME UP ALL NIGHT" ETC ETC...