Friday, 31 March 2017

Is It Friday Already?

Man what a long week this has been.

I need this dog. It's everything I want in a dog. 

My last words

Life gives you more than you think

It's also the most MURRICAN pickup line ever, what with all the red, white, and blue

If I had a tiny turtle this is what I'd do.

Somewhere Schrodinger is having an Aneurysm. 

I can actually see Pornhub doing this

This is a majestic couch

This is just smart advertising

Look at this poor dog and ask yourself if the high is worth it.
Have a great weekend folks. I'll see y'all Monday.

Thursday, 30 March 2017

Stories From a Friend

I have a friend who occasionally writes stories. I've actually featured some of her work on here before, back when I did Friendship Week. She recently wrote another story and I enjoyed it so much I wanted to share it. So - with her permission - here is To Stare.
The blue green light falls fragmented through the stained glass windows.

His face, highlighted by the pale yellow light of the candle, surrounded by incense smoke,
and his ears full of the words of the speaker.

He stares dutifully ahead,gazing out at the sea of faces before him.

He recognizes several. Janet, the mother from down the street. Beatrice, from his old chemistry class.
His cousins, who flew all the way in from Chicago. Other than that, his immediate family, and his few close friends. Pat, Izzy, and Michael sat in the second row. His mother sits a few rows back, with his sister next to her.

His dad is nowhere to be found.

"Typical." He thinks to himself. "Dad never comes to anything, why should this be different."
He continues to stare dutifully ahead, even when the hot wax of the candle drops on him. He wishes he would move, but he can't, he won't.

He never really liked church, he found it boring and repetitive. Sit, stand, kneel, stand, sit, kneel. Up and down.

Listen to the priest speak, repeat what he says.

Over and over.

For two hours.

This service  seems like it's been going on for 6.

He holds in a sigh, and scans the crowd again. A few more people file in. It's the soccer players. "John, Jacob, Marco, Steve, Eric. " he named each as they walked though the huge doors, trying to be as quiet as possible.

The organ music started up again. "Oh great, another song." He thought.

As the entire congregation stood, they began to sing.

He simply stays there. Unmoving, and uncaring.

Besides, it wasn't him in that coffin.

Boredom overcomes him. He looks around once again. The wax drips from the candle, onto the shiny white fabric draped around him.



He watches the small pile of wax harden, and begin to form a twisting, lumpy form.

As it builds and grows, he watches, and it takes a human like shape.

"It looks like something I know." He thinks. Then he realizes. The Scream.

Have you ever seen that painting? The Scream? That, pale, twisted, contorted figure, with his dark eyes wide open? He stares endlessly into whatever mundane object he's placed in front of.
This man can relate. He has no choice but to stare at what he's placed in front of.

Now, the unending sea of faces, tears, and false sadness ahead him. Trapped behind glass, unmoving, unable to will his way out.

He's been trapped here for what seems like days. And he has no choice but to stare ahead with blank eyes, lest he let himself  be consumed by the darkness waiting for him, and everyone else. So he chooses to stare, and stare at whatever  lies ahead.

He confines to stare. Unaffected, unmoved, disinterested.

Then something, well, someone, catches his eye. "Gene." He hissed to himself. "That little shit is the reason we're all here." He thought to himself, silently cursing the man who caused this.

All this sorrow and hurt.

And his boredom.

"We wouldn't have been here if he had been more careful. " he thinks. That single footstep out of formation ultimately cost him, and half of his squadron to be thrown across that open field. Some of them were lucky. They landed clear of any more mines. A few were disintegrated upon landing, other lost arms, or legs. He however, lost the lower half of his body.

Did you know that a human can live for several minutes after losing their lower body?
Well neither did he until he experienced it.

Apparently, the lucky ones bleed out in a few seconds.

"Looking back, I think the only reason I survived was that somehow, my femoral artery wasn't severed. "He pondered.

Then began his long time of staring . He couldn't move his head, but he could see everything. " I sat there, in agonizing pain, watching as my friends exploded around me." He spat, his anger and spite fueled by this memory.

Thomas had lost a leg, but was dragging himself back to the rest of the squadron when he hit a mine. *boom* No more Thomas. Marco lost an arm and some shoulder, but was making his way to the group, when he fell,

He assumes Marco passed out, and bam half of his face was blown away. Bye Marco. Dean, John, and the Isaiah also met their end due to some more mines. They were the ones who just blew apart, the lucky bastards. “The best part of all of it? Well, while they were getting blown apart,little bits and pieces of my friends spattered across him. A little bit of Marco landed on my cheek,I could feel Thomas’ shattered bones pelting his torso. John, Dean and Isaiah were basically vaporized,

So he wound up looking like an all- red Jackson Pollack painting. It was great.” he thought. After the rest of his friends finished dying, he finally stopped breathing, and fell over. *boom* he had rolled into a mine. The only pieces of him they were able to recover was his left hand, and his dog tags.

"Of course, the only one near me who survived was Gene." He said in a venomous tone.
"That little chickenshit should have died too. He finished at the bottom of the class. The smallest, weakest, most scared kid I'd ever come across." He cursed. "Now, I finished top of the class, with the highest  physical score, second highest tactical score, and the third highest intelligence.So of course, they put me with this little kid." He thought, rolling his eyes.  "The little shit bumped into me, and cause my foot to step off of the designated path, then boom he screwed us all over. " he said, his words thick with emotion. Since he absorbed most of the blast, Gene just got thrown off his feet.

Now Gene is sitting in the very back of the church, alone, with silent tears on his face, as if he knows what he did. "I hope he feels like crap." The man on the alter thinks.

The ceremony ends, finally. The lines of people leave the church, and his coffin is lifted.

"I don't know why they bother doing all this." He thinks. "All that's in the coffin is my hand. And not even my right hand. The left. The one I never used or cared about."

He supposes that that's the reason he can't drift more than a few feet away from the dog tags in the picture frame. His photo was left in the church  while they buried the coffin, but he could feel it.
His lone hand grew colder and colder, as more chilled,  November earth was thrown onto his coffin.
Contrary to what most think, you can actually feel everything that happens to your body after death.

He could feel the scavengers picking at his rib cage, the hairs pulled from his head to be used in birds nests, all of it. "I feel bad for whatever unlucky bastards get their asses
toasted." He chuckled to himself, glad him family had decided against it.

After the ceremony, his mother comes back for him. Lifting the frame, she wraps it in a shawl, plunging him into darkness. "Well great" he thinks.

He is taken home, and finds himself placed on a mantle.

"Shit." He thinks.

He's placed facing that painting he had previously reflected on. The Scream.

Two people, trapped to forever stare ahead, face to face, unable to change their fates.

There will be no rest for him. No heaven. No hell. No purgatory, or just darkness. Just the living room he was so familiar with.

100 years later, he sits in the mud, buried by years of disinterest.

No one remembers him but him, and no one ever will again.

So he stares, an unwilling passenger on the ride that took him down paths he never asked to go on, waiting for a new wave to sweep him along.

The formatting was done by me so if there are any problems with that, I would be the one to blame. Feel free to leave some criticism because I will be passing the feedback on to her. 

Monday, 27 March 2017

Mother's Day Plus One

Yesterday was a pretty big deal here in the UK. Not only did the clocks move forward an hour (which I was awake for) but it was also Mothering Sunday/Mother's Day. That's right my American friends, we have different Mother's Days. We have Father's Day on the same day though, so I don't know what that's all about.
So for the first time since Christmas I hitched up my belt and went to see my dear mother. I don't get to see her all that often really. I think Christmas, Mother's Day, and birthdays (mine and hers are five days apart) are about it. I think one of the things I'll do when I get my driving license is go visit her more often. I just have to remember where she lives. Thank God for mums? Thank God for GPS!

It was an interesting visit because, unbeknownst to me, one of my older sisters was there with her boyfriend and four kids. It made the whole visit a lot more fun and memorable. I couldn't walk past the kitchen without the three youngest coming up to me and giving me a hug. They all love me because they barely see me.

I gave my mum a card, some incense, and a kick ass colour changing candle. My sister has said she wants one too. The glass is heat sensitive so it changes colour when the candle is lit. It actually changed colour when she went to light the candle, which was pretty cool. Now I think about it, I kind of want one too.

My mum might have her troubles at times, but she's always got a big smile and a lot of love for me, and I'm more than happy to return it. I have a pretty good idea for what to get her for her birthday in a few months' time. I just hope I can pull it off.

Friday, 24 March 2017

It's Time for Some Fun

I think the only time I stopped working yesterday was when I was out with Paul. Jesus wept that was a long day.

Man I want one of these dogs.  
I love a good pun

I'd play around with the name of my wifi but I'd just confuse my dad and brother

"Turbo Anal ISIS" sounds pretty damn bad

Florida Man is truly my favourite superhero. 

Everyone knows you can't see John Cena

How do you know you aren't immune to fire if you've never tried?

I'd like to try this, just to see what kind of "relief" you can get from gum

You could be having sex right now

I've also noticed an increase in how much I sneeze, but no dandy lions. 
I'm in for a buttload of work today too. S'all good though. That just means more money for me. Which is always great. Have a good weekend folks!

Thursday, 23 March 2017


Tragedy struck the UK yesterday when London was hit with another terrorist attack that threatened Parliament. No doubt there will be a lot of angry fist-shaking and debate over this - and I've already seen some of it - but for now can we not just focus on the fact that people lost their lives? It doesn't matter how, who, or why, killing is almost always senseless in my opinion and, yesterday, it was pretty damn senseless.

Monday, 20 March 2017

I Lack Fine Motor Control

I had another successful driving lesson last Thursday. I define a successful lesson as one where nobody dies. This one was also pretty successful by any other metric too. I made about three or four mistakes, which in the grand scheme of things means that I drove fine for around one hour and fifty minutes. There is some stuff worth mentioning though. So I figured I could still make a post about it. 

The first point is how I almost died - again - but not really. I was sat at a corner waiting for a truck to turn. As it turns, it shifts to the left before shifting back to the right, making me absolutely shit myself because it got a little too close for comfort. It was funny because I saw the same truck a few more times. So the driver clearly had it out for me and was trying to kill me. 

Typical truck turning radius
I know trucks have a larger turning radius and they need more room, but this fucker turned out in the middle of a turn before turning back in. So clearly the driver was the one not understanding that trucks need a little more room to turn. 

The other thing that happened was that we drove up to the test centre where I'll be taking my practical driving test. All the tests were over for the day so Martin took me up there to take a look at the place and do a little practice parking. There's a small section of the car park there dedicated to people taking their test. At the end of the test we drive back and are expected to park perfectly; a feat I am still yet to do. I understand the basic trick of it. Parking is simple physics. I just lack the fine motor control (literally and figuratively) to do it. It takes moving the car very, very slowly, and I'm just not very good at that. 

On the plus side, I was able to perfectly execute another three-point turn, and follow signs, which is something I've always been bad at. 

My next lesson is tomorrow so let's see how that goes. 

Friday, 17 March 2017

It's St. Patrick's Day

Apparently it's St. Patrick's Day today. I had no clue. It's that wonderful time of year where every American claims to have Irish heritage and gets drunk. Well, whatever your plans are for today; have fun and stay safe.

Wrong day I think
For the Irish it's just Friday

Pepe has a point
Designated drivers are the true heroes of the day

I didn't realise there were so many Irish people in America
Happy St. CATricks Day folks!
Talk about a bad date
If he were truly Irish the entire armour would be green. 
Have a great day folks. I'll see y'all next week, assuming you survive today. 

Thursday, 16 March 2017

Doggy Days

I've mentioned a few times before about how my boss Paul - who is probably my closest friend as well - has a Jug. That's a Jack Russel/Pug combination. His partner originally wanted a pug, but both of them were able to accept the inbreeding that goes into pugs and how it can damage their health. Most pugs have trouble breathing because of how tightly pressed their snouts are. Luckily for Derrick (that's the jug in question) he has the face of a jack russel and has no problem breathing.
Damn he cute. 
Every time Paul has a day off (once or twice a week) I head over to his house and we take Derrick out for a walk down to the park. If there aren't many other dogs around then we'll let him off. It was great during the autumn because he loved to run through leaves and would jump in piles that were bigger than he was. The reason we have to be careful about letting him off the lead is because he doesn't always respond properly when you call his name and he can be very boisterous. If there's a dog around him, you can bet your ass he's going to jump on it and try and play with it. Which is just what he did this past Tuesday.

We let him off the lead in the park and suddenly this black dog about the size of Derrick came bounding up to him. She was about the same age as Derrick and they chased each other around and had play fights for a good half hour to an hour while me and Paul chatted to her owner. It was fun watching Derrick get chased around and seeing him behave so well with another dog. He still needs to learn to respond to his name before we can let him off all the time, but for now we know he can behave himself. For the most part.
This is Derrick and the black dog; Molly. 
In case you can't tell from the photo there (which was sadly the only photo I took of the pair that I saved) Derrick has his nose about halfway up Molly's butt. He got a little too...friendly. They were play fighting for a good while, keeping it all platonic and having fun, but then Derrick started sniffing her crotch and we knew it was a matter of time before we had to separate them.

Then he started trying to hump her.

Play time was definitely over after that. So we put his lead back on him and headed home. When we got back to Paul's house he just flopped down on the floor and napped, all tuckered out. It was pretty darn cute overall, outside of the sexual harassment anyway.

This is Derrick with another nice dog he met a few days ago. 

Monday, 13 March 2017

Booking It

It's become increasingly apparent that I really need to pass my theory test already. I can't do the practical driving test and actually get my license until I do. There have been a few problems with getting this test passed, but I think the most glaring of all has been not booking it. If you don't have a test date in mind, then you won't be compelled to really study for it. It's like telling a class "hey guys, you have a test that you'll take when you feel up to it. No rush". Those kids are never going to take that test. It was the same for me.

If only I had a teacher like Cartman
So I just went for it and booked the test. I'll be taking it a month from now, on the 6th of April. Having this set date in mind has made it much easier to convince myself to sit some mock tests and do some boning up. Actually, in the last mock test I did, I passed the hazard perception (my weakness) and failed the theory test (my strength). The annoying thing is I failed by just one point. But it felt good to pass the hazard perception part and know that I am improving.

With a little more work I'll be more than ready to pass the test in April, and pass the main test before my birthday in May.

Friday, 10 March 2017

Rough Day Ahead

Thanks to having a driving lesson and several other things I had to get done yesterday, I was up until about 1AM doing my work. It was probably closer to 2 when I finished. I'm in for a day that's just as busy today, but thankfully there's no driving lesson. So I shouldn't be working that late, even if I am working late. 

I'm a catcaller. 

The ultimate speed race. This should be an Olympic event. 

He's Canadian so I have faith in his funking abilities

This is a solid business plan

This is how you get me to watch the weather 
It'll only work on women in skirts but it'll still be a fun investment 

The only flaw in this plan is having to watch that God awful movie

Some people say silence is golden. YouTube says silence is copyrighted. 

Now THIS is a prank

"9/10 bishops agree sex abuse is awesome"
Have a great weekend folks. I'll see you on the other side. Assuming I survive today. 

Thursday, 9 March 2017

New Look

I don't know if you guys know this about me, but I've generally always had long hair. The only time it would be short was when I got lice as a kid. The fastest way to treat the problem was scorched earth tactics I guess. I think that was one of the reasons I preferred it long as I was growing up. Well, that and my metalhead phase.
I'm kidding. I'm still totally a metalhead.
I tend to get about one or two haircuts a year. Mostly to trim away at the dead hair and keep it healthy. A few days ago I felt like having a real haircut for once, and getting it cut a little short. It's still long by the standards of most people, but it's definitely short for me. Paul, my boss, liked it and told me it suited me, even if it took him about ten minutes to even notice. I guess it's tied back so much you can't tell it's been cut unless you see it from the back. I think it looks alright. The weather is warming up anyway. So this can be considered my "winter coat". It's too annoying to have long hair in warm weather, especially with how much I sweat. God damn. 

Even if I did regret getting it cut then hey, it's hair, it'll grow back. 

Unless I'm suddenly attacked by male pattern baldness. 

The new 'do. 

Monday, 6 March 2017


I'm just going to warn you now that this post is likely to get away from me, so sit back and enjoy the ride.

As an avid Pokémon player I recently got the Pokémon Bank app for my 3DS. This basically lets you store the creatures online, ready to deposit and withdraw whenever you need them. There's just one tiny problem with this; my completionist attitudes kicked in. See, I kind of want to store one of every single Pokémon, which means evolving them once or twice to fill in all the gaps. This also likely means owning every game in order to get all of the unique Pokémon. I wonder how long it will take me to give up on this idea. Probably not very long.

See I'm not really much of a completionist. If anything, I'm not a major fan of completing things. Especially when I write stories. My writing input drastically goes down the closer I get to the end of a story because I just want it to keep going for a little bit longer. I tend to be the same with books and other games. There will often come a point where I just get tired of something and will rush to complete it, which is a shame because it takes away from the sense of completion. Rather than being satisfied that I've finished something, I tend to just be glad that it's over.

I can have a bit of an obsessive personality, so when I do get the desire to really complete something and go all out; I really do go all out. I've spent plenty of time "grinding" as they call it, which is when you do the same thing over and over in a video game; often for experience or items. So who knows? Maybe I really am a completionist and I do a good job of suppressing my desires.

I knew this post would get away from me in the end, but I didn't know what else to write about today. How about yourself? Are you a completionist?

Friday, 3 March 2017

That Friday Feeling

It's the third of the third today. That's oddly satisfying.

I wonder if this works

This is how I'll child proof my house

I would be interested in more old-timey names for STDs 

Well that didn't last very fucking long now did it? 
Spoiler alert; people have always been cunts. Don't pretend we weren't. 

At least he's honest

who would even wear this?

Give the classics a new spin. 

I'd buy this sword. I wonder if he ever got emails. 

And we end on a pun. 
Have a great weekend folks. I'll be pretty busy myself, but I'll never bemoan being busy. Until my arms explode and I hate everything anyway. That's not happened just yet.


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