Tuesday 20 May 2008

Spaceman, I always wanted you to go into space man....



I had trouble getting to sleep last night, and as is my wont I cycled through the things that I think about in such situations, the mental comfort blankets that let me fall asleep......dependent upon my mood and state of mind the top three are:



1)Sex - obviously - no need to elaborate here.

2) Super powers - currently there are two super powers that I'd like to have - the first being ability to make people defecate at any time. This would be very amusing - I'm particularly thinking of politicians here, and would love to see how they react to suddenly full undercrackers in the middle of important speeches. However, it would also be fun simply walking down the street and picking a chav at random.... The second super power would be the ability to control the minds of other people - I would be the puppet master, dictating the thoughts, actions and emotions of everyone (Muahahahaha!!!!) As I write this, in my minds eye I see a psychologist stroking his goatee beard and muttering darkly... BTW, 5 extra house points if you know the classic science fiction book series that this is borrowed from.

3)Being a spaceman. The scenario is this: Somehow I have acquired a spaceship - old school 1950's style flying saucer. What I do next is: land the saucer on the lawn of the White House, erect a force field around it, and wait. When the worlds TV cameras and diplomats are in place, the ramp slowly descends... and out of the mist I walk slowly down the ramp onto the grass, unzip, and piss on the lawn. I then re-enter the spaceship and leave. There is a variant to this tableau, where I am joined by a bunch of friends (all suitably attired in retro spaceman chic), and we proceed to have a barbecue, get royally pissed, then leave.

That's about it really. I do feel strange blogging this - currently I have no idea if anybody else has these little pre-dreams, or how anyone else gets to sleep (passing out is always a good option). Do let me know that I'm not too weird.







Sunday 11 May 2008

Fuckwittery


This is what happens if you try to drive into ASDA's carpark and ignore the "max headroom" signs.. my fault. Bluebell the campervan is seriously unwell -we won't find out until Monday if a)the insurances has a fuckwit clause, and b) if she's repairable or a write off. Fuck.
Whilst we are on the topic of transport related disasters, it seems that the away team charged with bringing das boat up to Yorkshire has also had a mishap, though thankfully not of the same magnitude - a collision with a lock gate has possibly bent the rudder post, making the steering a bit heavy - they are cruising towards somewhere that can effect repairs as I speak. Fingers crossed that it isn't a pain in the wallet... So after the bad news outlined above, I set to with a vengeance to get royally blathered on Saturday night - fire, music, food, good company and an unexpected absence of children made for a bladdy good night. Today, Knaresborough beach called, again - good people, good times. Even if PM and TG were a bit tardy ;)

Monday 5 May 2008

Better with or without?


Where to start? At the beginning? Not possible really - the beginning is in a different country, a different time, a different life. Some things don't really have beginnings - they emerge slowly and stealthily, like an island rising from the sea. And so it was. One day, suddenly and forever it was here, a great granite fact of my life. Background, foreground, detail and wash - it was inescapable. A silent friend at my side. A stealthy foe stalking me. A comfort during the bad times. A necessity for the good times. So much a part of me that to hate it would be to hate myself. And yet it's impossible to love. How can you possibly love something that will destroy you? We all need our weaknesses, our crutches, our excuses. Without the crutches Tiny Tim would just be the runt of the litter, barely worth a spit. Stephen Hawking would be a very intelligent, very anonymous academic. Pete Doherty would be a vacuum. Would they have it any other way? (See what I'm doing here?) The irony is of course, that we don't get those choices very often -to decide who you will be, what will rule your life, what to be guided by, what to avoid. And when the choices do come along, they're hard, cold, and lonely. And not to be rushed.


copoutcopoutcopoutcopoutcopoutcopoutcopout.


Next time I may write something about my cat.



Saturday 3 May 2008