Squeel like a piggy

How come all the people who call in to Club 977 - The '80s Channel sound like they're fresh off the set of Deliverence?

My bin is full of fruit flies, I don't know how they got there but every single time I open the bin to put something in a swarm of them appear like something from 'The Mummy'. What do they do? they don't make any noise, they just waft around aimlessly, possibly looking for fruit.

My friend Baz...

A thought occured to me the other day, you never see a member of the tracksuit brigade wearing glasses. Why is that?...I have come up with a few answers to that deeply insightful question:

1) They all have perfect vision, due to the healthy lifestyles they all lead, being fed a diet of ready meals, crisps and pepsi from birth.

2) They all prefer to walk around with blurred vision, thinking it's a small price to pay for not looking like a twat, but not realising that being an 8 stone malnourished idiot dressed in a shell suit and wearing the entire stock of Elizabeth Dukes jewellery isn't this seasons 'look'.

3) They're all too drunk on Special Brew and high on crack to see anything anyway...besides who wants to see the 12 year old pregnant girl and surrogate mother of your other 15 children sitting next to you in your council flat in Sholver...that would just be depressing wouldn't it?

4) They are all killed when they are young because, as everyone knows...chavs are pack animals, they're the closest thing we have to the missing link, survival of the fittest...if you can't steal a car radio or mug a defenseless grandma or find your way through the doors of the dole office (most likely) because you can't see more than 1cm infront of your nose...you'll starve to death.

Rapid Sphincter Movement

As some of you know, I sold my fanny magnet on wheels some time ago and replaced it with an all new, improved magnet of women...a Peugeot 306 xtdtr2d2 or whatever. As this car looked like it might not fall apart at any moment, I thought I'd treat it to some ICE, so 10,000 paper towels later, the water all seemed to have been soaked up and I discovered that ICE actually meant in car entertainment...time to go shopping.

I went to my local Halfords (the PC World of car shops) to see what sort of entertainment I could get, having visions of naked ladies spinning round chrome poles, or swimming pools of cocaine..or a dashboard sized Peter Kaye I settled for a car radio and subwoofer, I ofcourse did the sensible thing and thanked Halfords for all their advice and went and bought my ICE off Ebay.

I have just finished fitting the subwoofer into the boot (it looks something like a quantum accelerator hyperdrive, not that I know what they look like..but I can imagine they'd look like my subwoofer). I should point out that the speaker itself weighs more than a black hole and I'm going to have to remove all unneccessary items from the car like the seats, myself...the engine, just to move. Anyway, I turned the stereo on for the first time and after hearing a sound similar to r2d2 dropping one my subwoofer sprang into life.

The bass frequency was so low and so loud that I couldn't hear anything as all the air in the car had been sucked through the speaker port and I could just feel my kidney (I sold one actually buying all this stuff) rupturing. I instantly shat myself having lost all control of my sphincter. I now drive around with an oxygen mask on my face looking out of the flexing front window at a world with fuzzy edges.

Google

Wow...2 blog entries in 2 days? I'm going for a record.

I discovered today that joypad+mastorbatory+aid returns 0 results in Google, I can't believe that with all the filth out there (it's what the interweb was made for right?) nobody has made a page about joypad fetishists (is that a word?) 'joypad fetishists'©.

I'd like to point out that I myself am not a 'joypad fetishist'©, I just happened to stop masturbating long enough to pick those words out of my head, in that particular order and type them into Google.

She's gone again

The elevetor in my apartment building is out again..it seems she was persuaded to work again, only to decide after some thought that no, she couldn't cope with the stress..so now she sits, silent, not even letting us know which floor she's on. It's not hard is it? being an elevator? unless you're the one in Willie Wonka's factory, now that would take some skill...but a basic elevator...come on.

On a side note, I was delivering a letter last night to the post box and rather than walk round all the road works up here (they're slowly replacing all the cobbles and gas lamps) I decided to jump the metal fencing that was there to stop idiots like myself jumping over them and causing themselves horrific injuries...after a poorly misjudged sideways jump I landed to find a lump the size of a grape above my right knee, I proceeded to try and look cool as I hobbled over to the post box, then on the return journey, having not learned my lesson in the other direction I tripped and fell over.

Partial beard, freestyle

What an interesting week it's been...where to begin. After noticing I actually have comments on some of my entries, it's given me a new sense of purpose, I'm a 'punk' apparently? Johnny Rotten would be turning in his grave if he was dead.

The elevator is working again after some chap called Roy managed to coax her down to the ground floor, I can still detect a hint of anxiety in her voice though.

I have a new neighbour who for some reason thinks that keeping a dog in an apartment the size of a postage stamp 4 storys up is good for the poor animal.

I'm off to the WBMC to check out the guy who's entered the partial beard freestyle.

Aglets

All these years...I've been content with the knowledge that the tip of a shoelace is called a flugelbinder. Only today I discover they are called aglets...

On a seperate note, the apartment block in which I live has broken again. First of all the elevator seems to be suffering from vertigo as it won't go above the first floor and has now infact locked itself shut between the ground and 1st floor...you can hear the female voice as you walk past on the stairs constantly repeating 'first floor, first floor'. Secondly the television aerial on the roof has fallen off...so nobody in the 80+ apartments has a television signal or SKY (but then again most of the Bradford population think SKY is what goes above GROUND). I've been reduced to watching my Arnold Shwarzenegger DVD collection, in which he says about 4 words and that includes the ones with commentary.

On a seperate note to the seperate note above, I got so sick of our 2 pet snails, Shelly and son/daughter of Shelly doing nothing but shitting and gurgling that I thought I'd let them go (from a 4th floor window) you wouldn't believe how far you can throw a snail.