Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Foxtrot Mike Lima.

Camping? Probably not. Huge disappointment to be quite honest. I was really looking forward to it. Guess I'll just make the most of Friday night. Fucking work Saturday though. It literally ruins everything. And I know I shouldn't be complaining about having a job. But it's hard when you're in school 8:30 to 5:30 Monday to Friday, to give up your entire weekend as well. Not to mention trying to study.

You are ruining everything at the moment. Every plan we have, you find yourself intertwined in. Not only are you de-sensitised to invitations (I wouldn't be too pissed off if misunderstandings were the cause of your constant presence) you never have the decency to even mention your irrefutable attendance. And how fucking ungrateful can you be? You're so ignorant. I wish you'd just fuck off. Or at least, grow. the. fuck. up. But, your worst attribute, by far, is how you affect me. And how your bullshit, for want of a better word, affects my worthwhile relationships. There are people I care about. And you, most certainly, are not one of them.

I'm sorry for the way things have been lately. How I haven't been. . me.
I hope things can get back to normal soon. Because no one means as much to me as you do. And nothing will ever change that. I cannot wait for this whole Leaving Cert. shit to be over, but when it is, what happens then? Are we just looking forward to this obstacle being averted? However, in turn, another one draws closer. The biggest obstacle of all. Probably the biggest obstacle we'll ever face. And, I'm finally realising, this is what I've been dreading all along. That three years later, three years of work, three years of pain and three years of consistent fighting to find ourselves in the position we're in and then, we're effectively back to day one? That's not fair. It really, really isn't.

You're all I want, you're all I need.
You are the one for me.
You hold me close, you hold me near.
You are the one for me.
The pain I feel when you leave.
You are the one for me.
You're all I want, you're all I see.
You are the one for me.

Five Minutes.

Each night she lays quivering, shivering here.
Asking why she keeps forgiving him, hidden in fear.
At work she has a glistening, driven career,
But at home with one swing of the fist it disappears.

She dreams of different ways of breaking free from his noose.
Its one thing to see a path but it's another to choose it.
Its one thing to want to run but its another to do it,
Its one thing to buy a gun; but its another to use it.

But buy a gun she did and it made her feel good.
She told herself if she really had to use it she would.
The next night, drunk at the bed he stood,
She said she'd take it no more and she vaguely understood.

But he didn't take too kindly to being put in his place.
She fled after the first blow and of course, he gave chase.
She sat hunched, holding a gun praying she wasn't pursued,
But when the door swung a route, He found her to shoot.

She watched in awe as his power cascaded on the floor.
It wasn't long before the police came bursting through the door.
In store, put in prison, enforced by the law,
As she lay out a whisper, lay distracted on the floor;

For the bad times, I wish you'd just admit and never cast a shadow across my bed.
But for the good times, I wish you five minutes in Heaven before the Devil knows you're dead.
For the bad times, I wish you'd just admit and never cast a shadow across my bed.
But for the good times I wish you five minutes in Heaven before the Devil knows you're dead.


Each night she lays quivering, shivering there,
I wonder how we came to live in unforgiving despair,
I find myself giving the delivering stares,
As the smell of Glennfidich starts sieving the air.

As the bullet flew towards me I swear time stood still.
I felt every single emotion that a man could feel.
How did I get here? How could this even be real?
How could I become a person that a loved one could kill?

It wasn't always this way, I once saw love in those eyes.
That now just despise and chastise all my lies.
As my sarcastic replies each new drunken guise,
And first of all these heavy hands which surmised her demise.

There was a time when we never thought the honeymoon would end,
She was my wife, my love my confidant and my friend.
But it seems these days happiness can depend,
On financial stability, and the need to contend.

But I make no excuse, I let it get this way.
Other people live their lives on the minimum wage.
I was the one that couldn't cope and let it turn to rage,
Now I'm looking down the barrel, playing against the game.

For the bad times I cannot be acquitted or let off, as the bullet enters my head,
For the good times I wish for five minutes in Heaven before the Devil knows I'm dead.
For the bad times I cannot be acquitted or let off, as the bullet enters my head,
For the good times I wish for five minutes in Heaven before the Devil knows I'm dead.


Thursday, March 25, 2010

No matter how much you give a homeless person for tea. . you never get that tea.

I have finally found a course I'm actually interested in. Fantastic. Because, as you all surely know, I'm as decisive as a squirrel with ADD. . on speed. Where is it, you ask? Why, I'll tell you. Farnham. Near fucking Bristol. Bye bye Motor Journalism. It was a beautiful, if short lived dream.

When you post something to your blog, and it gives you the option of tagging certain things, I must ask, why is "scooters" one of the examples? I honestly have never read a scooter blog. However, I'm finding myself more and more frequently reading motoring blogs. Ergo, the above mentioned course would have been amazing. Like, work experience with Top Gear. Does it get any fucking better?

Tell ya what I hate? How I try to make a serious effort with this blog, and then I remember, I have 12 followers, and, I imagine, fewer actual readers.

Pre results are slowly trickling back in.
70% in honours biology, I could have cried.
53% in honours English, I could have cried. With equal but opposite intensity.

Tell ya what else I hate? Nobody says 'terrific' any more. And I know, I know, I've expressed my displeasure at this numerous times in the past, but it's nice like, innit?

I do love Jimmy Carr.
"Throwing acid is wrong. . . in some people's eyes."
"Swimming is good for you. Especially when you're drowning. 'Not only did I get a cardio-vascular workout, I didn't die'."
"A lady with a clipboard stopped me in the street the other day. She said, "Can you spare a few minutes for cancer research?" I said, "All right, but we won't get much done."
Boxers don't have sex before a fight, do you know why that is? They don't fancy each other.


There is literally nothing more satisfying than watching a comedy show where a heckler gets pwn'd.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Yes, another one.

Thou shalt not steal if there is a direct victim.
Thou shalt not worship pop idols, or follow lost prophets.
Thou shalt not take the names of Johnny Cash, Joe Strummer, John Hartmond, Desmond Dekker, Jim Morrisson, Jimmy Hendrix or Sid Barrett in vain.
Thou shalt not think any male over the age of 30 that plays with a child that is not their own is a paedophile, some people are just nice.
Thou shalt not read NME.
Thou shalt not stop liking a band just because they've become popular.
Thou shalt not question Steven Fry.
Thou shalt not judge a book by its cover.
Thou shalt not judge lethal weapon by Danny Glover.
Thou shalt not buy Coca Cola products.
Thou shalt not buy Nestle products.
Thou shalt not go into the woods with your boyfriend's best friend, take drugs, and then cheat on him.
Thou shalt not fall in love so easily.
Thou shalt not use poetry, art or music to get into girls pants... use it to get into their heads.
Thou shalt not watch Hollyoaks.
Thou shalt not attend an open mic and leave as soon as you've done your shitty little poem or song, you self-righteous prick.
Thou shalt not return to the same club or bar, week in, week out 'cause you once saw a girl there that you fancied; that you're never gonna fucking talk to anyway.
Thou shalt not put musicians and recording artists on ridiculous pedestals.
No matter how great they are, or were.
The Beatles were just a band.
Led Zeppelin, just a band.
The Beach Boys, just a band..
The Sex Pistols, just a band.
The Clash, just a band.
Crass, just a band.
Minor Threat, just a band.
The Cure, just a band.
The Smiths , just a band.
Nirvana, just a band.
The Pixies, just a band.
Oasis, just a band.
Radiohead, just a band.
Bloc Party, just a band.
The Arctic Monkeys, just a band.
"The next big thing", just a band.
Thou shalt give equal worth to tragedies that occur in non-English speaking countries as to those that occur in English speaking countries.
Thou shalt remember that guns, bitches and bling were never part of the 4 elements and never will be.
Thou shalt not make repetitive, generic music.
Thou shalt not make repetitive, generic music.
Thou shalt not make repetitive, generic music.
Thou shalt not make repetitive, generic music.
Thou shalt not Pimp My Ride.
Thou shalt not scream if you wanna go faster.
Thou shalt not move to the sound of the wickedness.
Thou shalt not make some noise for Detroit.
When I say "Hey", thou shalt not say "Ho"
When I say "Hip", thou shalt not say "Hop"
When I say, he say, she say, we say; "Make some noise.", kill me.
Thou shalt not quote me happy.
Thou shalt not shake it like a Polaroid picture.
Thou shalt not wish your girlfriend was a freak, like me.
Thou shalt spell the word "Phoenix" P-H-E-O-N-I-X. Not, P-H-O-E-N-I-X, regardless of what the Oxford English Dictionary tells you.
Thou shalt not express your shock at the fact that Sharon got off with Brad at a club last night by saying; "Izziiit".
Thou shalt think for yourselves.
And most importantly, thou shalt always, thou shalt always, kill.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

But then again, the future ain't what it used to be.

I feel weird, and sentimental. I don't know what's happening. Maybe I'm. . Maybe I'm gay :| Awh shit, I hope not.

Don't you love when your life just becomes enveloped in music? Like, every aspect of my existance has its respective soundtrack at the moment.

Little known fact: I love it when bagels have no hole in the middle.

Can't wait to get the new Dan Le Sac Vs. Scroobius Pip album. Waiting years for this. So, in typical uncreative me tradition, I leave you with a series of lyrics which will undoubtedly leave you inspired enough to go buy The Logic of Chance.

When you forget about the hand you're dealt,
All that really matters is the things you've felt.


What do you mean keep it real? Could someone please explain,
when reality's just light interpreted by your brain.


These kids getting above their stations and saying,
they're a vessel through which a higher power's conveying.
"My lyrical content is a miracle God sent."
My name is Scroobius Pip and I say 'fuck all that nonsense'.
Their lyrical prognosis is like spiritual osmosis.
In that everything they say evaporates into boasts, it's a joke.





As I finally walk away I say goodbye and good health,
as I finally walk away I wish you all you wish yourself.
As I finally walk away I say goodbye and good health,
as I finally walk away I wish you all you wish yourself.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Can't help but feel I should be in school.

So, I'm "sick", and subsequently have a morning off to avoid Physical Education. I am sick, I suppose. Just can't be listening to FOB again. 'Cause, let's face it, I wasn't going to do PE if I went in anyway. So instead of producing something worthwhile and productive, (and we all know how I feel about my application to a serious amount of studying) I'm going to update you all on how my new car is going. Not that any single one of you give a shit, but, y'know.

After much painful deliberation, I have decided on a colour. Chrome Orange, inspired by the BA Ford Falcon XR6. It's more a light shade of red than orange, to be fair. But in the right light, it's a perfect accompaniment to a set of white wheels. 16" imitation Rays, with Pirelli P Zeros, have also been procured:



Some distress has been encountered with regard to the front splitter, though. It seems almost beyond repair, and as such a new bumper is required. However, after several months of sourcing a front bumper, and amazingly finding a 98 spec half destroyed one, I am not willing to go find another. The splitter is the cancerous limb of the project which must be severed. Numerous sleepless nights have been lost over this decision, but ultimately, for the projects progression, it must be done. That last bit was bullshit, by the way, but I will miss it, like.

All that remains to be found, is a set of, again, 98 spec, rear clusters. Preferably in white and red, as these subtle tones, as well as their cleaner, neater lines, compliment the smooth Japanese styling of the overall car. All in all, in a matter of weeks, I hope to have achieved something to the effect of the picture below, except more importantly built, not bought.

Friday, March 12, 2010

This is the way I wanted it to be with you, This is the way I knew that it would be with you.

"Three years? Are ye not sick o' each other!?"
Evidently not, you wankers.

Three years tomorrow. And it's honestly never once felt boring or monotonous or anything other than right.
It hasn't always been easy, but it's always worked. And well. This last year has been the best, by far. Not that I'd ever change any of the others, mind. Just like you, I'd never change you, and I'd never change us. Everything has been so perfect. The multitude of ups, and the few and scarcely memorable downs.
I want you, I need you, I love you, forever. I've never felt this lucky.
You are now, and always will be, my best friend.

To call for hands above, to lean on, wouldn't be good enough for me, no.



xiii iii mmvii <3

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Coming clean.

I'm sick of hiding my feelings. Time to admit it. I love My Chemical Romance. Lololololol. And I'm not the only one. This is a revolution. A re-revolution. If there's such thing? Idk. Basically, it's all coming back, innit?
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh <3





It's been too long <3

I'm not going to look back.

So glad this is nearly over. Although, I do prefer exams to school. However, this is getting a bit much. Can not wait for Friday. Yaaaay.

Please allow me to introduce myself,
I'm a man of wealth and taste.
I've been around for a long, long year.
Stole many a man's soul and faith.

And I was 'round when Jesus Christ,
Had his moment of doubt and pain.
Made damn sure that Pilate
Washed his hands and sealed his fate.

Pleased to meet you.
Hope you guess my name.
But what's puzzling you,
Is the nature of my game.

I stuck around St. Petersburg,
When I saw it was a time for a change.
Killed the Czar and his ministers,
Anastasia screamed in vain.

I rode a tank,
Held a general's rank,
When the Blitzkrieg raged,
And the bodies stank.

Pleased to meet you,
Hope you guess my name, oh yeah.
Ah, what's puzzling you,
Is the nature of my game, oh yeah.

I watched with glee
While your kings and queens,
Fought for ten decades
For the gods they made.

I shouted out,
"Who killed the Kennedys?"
When after all,
It was you and me.

Let me please introduce myself,
I'm a man of wealth and taste.
And I laid traps for troubadours,
Who get killed before they reached Bombay.

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name.
But what's puzzling you,
Is the nature of my game.

Just as every cop is a criminal,
And all the sinners saints.
As heads is tails,
Just call me Lucifer,
'Cause I'm in need of some restraint.


So if you meet me,
Have some courtesy.
Have some sympathy, have some taste.
Use all your well-learned politesse,
Or I'll lay your soul to waste.

Tell me baby, what's my name?
Tell me honey, can ya guess my name?
Tell me baby, what's my name?
I tell you one time, you're to blame