I appear to have spurious photos of stu on my camera, prancing around the Princessheyheyinthecoocay. This we can all establish was due to the frivolous amout of alcohol Stu and I both consumed on Sunday evening. Meeting up in the Impy at around 4.30 stank of error before we started, but this was soon strengthed with our large consumption of beer related merchandise. Namely lots of ales as the man made me look silly for ordering a lager, to which I replied, after being coaxed with various free samples, that I would indeed have a nice pint of cronwell please. Which to be fair wasn't too bad and led to a pedigree later, as well as the normal interspersals of lager and other hoppy goodies. By the end of the night, I was plastered, I rang Rex for an excessive period of time, gave away a pint of cider to a random girl I don't even remember, and then we decided the kebab shop was the greatest location for us next.
It wasn't. As I ate many unneccessary calories and fat and then wibbled home.
To wake today, in epic pain and drunkeness, and still had to get out for 10 am check out. And was then too drunk to actually drive home, so went into town, after consuming as much water as my soul could handle, utilise the public toilet in case I was going to throw up, and then sit on a sofa in Zavvi for an extended period of time. Not good. Next attempted fix was to have a hot chocolate in Ritazza and veg for a while. Eventually by 12.30 I decided was able to drive home, then had a horrendous drive back, where I still felt a bit shit, and roads were crap. Though I did have the greatest bacon roll ever.
On returning to london, I was destroyed by the traffic coming into Stratford, and to make matters worse, a HUGE truck/lorry rolled back onto the front of my car to a large amount of crunching. However, after much swearing, on my return to the house, Rex and I couldn't find any damage, apart from some dirt had been cleaned off. Well done car in conclusion. Time to play Star Wars Unleashed. Though Rex did make me eat some epically large curry from Muskaan, I got a Chicken Zerani, which was a two layer curry, and was extremely nice. Yum. I wrote a song:
Broccoli in the morning
Broccoli before noon
Broccoli as a warning
Of our impending doom
In related news
witty, to shitty, in 5 minutes gritty
Aren't my witticisms still so witty?
My stick men emo and so pretty?
Is each post just a cognitive bore?
It's as if you don't love me no more.
Are my anecdotes too convoluted
Should my entire life be rebooted?
My hits have fallen through the floor
It's as if you don't love me no more
Does the orange clash with your eyes?
A lack of dog videos or recipes for pies?
Do you finally agree with the law
It's as if you don't love me no more
Am I always too far out of date?
Is there too much booty and poo to rate?
Is it because I went round you mother's house and explained about that time when we were both bored and got wacked out on acid, and begin creating a robot snail army using her vegetable collection, only to mistakenly use her recent ann summers order instead, which shook her to her core,
It's as if you don't love me no more
Love me no mooooooooorrrrrrreeeee
Owwooooo my arse is sore.
Caffeine Rambles #3
I'm desperately looking forward to Exeter this weekend, where I see Dan Dan Icelandic Dan's lecture, meet up with the AI homeys, including the G-man himself, but not Stu or Carlos. On the Sat I can see Claire and Dave, and then on the Sunday I can drink my rugged face off with the Stu I know and love. After which I'll meet up with Mr Drapier. HAW HAW. Good times. Though it does leave the house without a working laptop. Or Car.
Advice: If you ever book some rooms through LateRooms, and want to extend your stay, contact the hotel directly, they often still have room even if LR tell you they don't.
Hmmm, disappointingly I've run out of rambling and with an hour until I met Danu, I'm at a slight loss of what I should do. Maybe swapping music from Straylight Run to The Elected could possible help. But that will just encourage me to go to America. Ah well. I also have to walk around with a bright shiny purple bag with Tracey's present in. I also wrote a short poem for it:
To our celebratory Tracey,
To avoid gifts too racy,
or predictably of purple
enclosed is a pirate turtle
I'm quite excited that Dan will be waiting for me at the bar with 2 pints, and we'll be all professional like:
"Hello my old chum"
"Ah, my friend, cracking day to invest some stocks"
"I concur, the market looks particularly peachy"
"Couldn't have expressed it better, how's the BumFun accounts?"
"Dire I'm afraid, but I've rerouted power to the auxillery hooker factory"
"Make it so number one!"
"Rebranding concussion most likely"
"Oh FTSEing hell"
And so on. I'm sure you get the technicolour picture.
Joff reckons I need to do some exercise to prevent some form of Peter Petrelli explosion of frustration. Wouldn't mind picking up tennis again. I'm meant to help my mum take some dead bodies down the dump tomorrow, but I kinda want to catch up on my blog so 1) I can post this 2) I'm at peace before I storm the pearly gates of Exeter.
The RBS building across the street is very pretty, all glass with a glass lobby lift and palm trees. The trees aren't glass. I tried to ascertain if Dan works there, but I don't he knows himself where he works. Gonna wander->
Money for the Faith
Now we all know I get mini rages when technology doesn't work perfectly, for instance if a youtube video will stutter on the ancient tech I'm using for a PC (5 years old y'all), wait I'm not sure where this is going.
I DO TOO MUCH YET TOO LITTLE
I wanna do so many things, but that just means I have to blog more, which I am apparently very poor at.
*screams*
don't mind me, I'm just going loopy.
Sorry I need constant reassurance guys!
I looked upon an awful quote
parched, I coughed with scratchy throat
For days have gone that I once knew
that consisted of ice topped dew
I will possess your heart...
Extreme journal writing on the back of a Chinese bus! Hardcore y'all!
Which you won't appreicate as this was typed at a later date, so instead, here is an ode to July:
Hush now my sweet
although I've lost my feet
under horrific circumstances
from July's empty romances.
An Ode To Vomit:
Cellophane noodles in my mouth,
Slither down my throat to the south,
but I realise too late, and with remorse,
that my food doth follow a reciprocal course.
Raffle's B-day Rampage
Once more with many skills sublime,
you've written a rhyme better than mine.
After 3 days of pondering in lands afar,
Rex said "Just do it" so here I are.
On to the matter of this event every year,
that's filled with sensual joy and birth related cheer.
May you have fun and much joyous applause,
on the one day I hear you can break many laws.
So I'll end this with distant hugging and clutching,
and a kilo of love and inappropriate touching.
French Crimp
mmmm frenchie french french,
sitting on a bench bench,
wonderous eyes in the sky highs,
what you gonna do, what you gonna do,
Eiffel tower, frenchie power!
garlic breath, stinking up Elizabeth,
monarchs in the night time,
very very frightening,
across the channel, pass the manual,
tele broke, tele broke, french suit made bespoke,
frenchie french french,
sitting on a bench bench.
Racoon Pony
Your fur is so soft
Racoon Pony
And hooters made of cloth
Racoon Pony
You teeth are oh so clean
Racoon Pony
And taste like minted spleen
Racoon Pony
You send shivers down my spine
Racoon Pony
You live in 2 dimensional time
Racoon Pony
You sex is undecided
Racoon Pony
Which leaves your fans divided
Racoon Pony
You smell of discontent
Racoon Pony
And you owe me last month's rent
Racoon Pony
You were sent from outer space
Racoon Pony
you're an expert in reconstructive plastic surgery, specifically to the face.
to the tune of "Racoon Pony"
Worst. Poem. Ever.
Lying in wait, amongst the wickedest weather,For nothing of power can be buried forever,
As from times long gone past
A withered legacy of a sullen task.
For only in the rain.
The nikeman cometh again...
"I dunno how you guys do things in Europe"
"New Zealand"
"yeah, probably..."
man I love Flight of the Conchords. I say it with authority,
battle rap on a hastings track, down the girlie's sorority
blog of blogging, a lack of jogging and lyrically linguistic jokes,
weekend of heat, and a ton of meat, and now my phone's broke
So..
I was born in a city in Bangladesh
All my homeys agree I'm the best
and the young fillies say that I'm fresh
but I wasn't really born in Bangladesh
I was born in a city in Sri Lanka
All my homeys agree I'm a wanker
and the young fillies want me to spanka...
but I wasn't really born in Sri Lanka
I was born in a city in Dubai
All my homeys agree I'm super fly
and the young fillies grin oh so wry
but I wasn't really born in Dubai
I was born in a city in London
Actually I wasn't it was in kent, and it wasn't a city, and in theory, although I say Folkstone it was actually Ashford hospital.....
Pooled Co-variance matrices
hello dear friends, your faithful tom, has something he must confide
Look at my hands, they're vastly weird, there's chickens growing inside
you can scream right now, you can scream tomorrow, but while you're standing there
could you pass that bucket, oh blast it and fuck it, I wish I didn't have to swear
but your too slow to help, and quite suspicous at that, you see it is too late
I've exploded all over, your cashmere throw over, some say what a terrible fate
But worst than that, is this rhyming shat, with no consistency throughout
of syllables or rhymes, and a plethera of crimes, of english grammer no doubt
give me a bucket and I will sing
there's a bucket full of pain in this glass
but does that mean my glass is only half you ask
there's a cat full of hat in my room
but yesterday's just tomorrow come to soon
there's a little bit of vomit in my throat
and its probably from my diet not your boat
there's a lot of waste of time in this blog
but 7 times says reading this you just can't stop
there's a hella lot of drama in my queen
but now my livers only half the size of my spleen
thank you thank you, I'm here all week.
nrghle - just cranched myself
ah well, I need to finish my CV by 12, so I can send it to some fools in Exeter and they can all be like "hey guy, we already told you ur cv is good, now u've gone and hacked it up, you go to hell, you got to hell and you die."
Anyone noticed the weather is crummy. I have. I also noticed I never say crummy. But I should do more. Dangermouse COMPLETE!!1!11!eleven!! box set (12 DVD) for 29.99.
There's no real point to this blog. In its entirety in fact, but I was tired of my CV. Here's a song about it:
oh, Curriculum Vitae
your touch is a poise so unique
oh, Curriculum Vitae
I really don't like writing you because obviously I have too many skills to warrant just two pages which the careers advisors always tell you to use but you know I want to make sure my prospective employees really know all about me in case I miss something important out and then they're all like "hey guy you smell go back to bedfordshire" and then I'd be all like "what I don't come from there" and they'd be like "oh yeah ur not Dick A. round sorry about that, still you suck" and then I'd just know it was my cv and I should have spent another hour on it instead of writing a blog about nothing, but oh well what I guess I'm trying to say is
oh, Curriculum Vitae
you stink.
a little ditty I freestyled
"yo mikey j
I'm here to stay
I got long hair
and erm, I'm not a bear"
and that was that. What have I been up to you may ponder? well I shall relieve you from this blah blah. Friday nite went to new spoons avec la girlies, and I got a baloon! whoopa, then after that trekked to meet the hombres at The Ram, more drinking ensued, came back, was like "Stu, get on up over here" so we again watched crappy quiz shows with beer till 3am. then Dave was all like "to the tesco" which was nice, in end sleepage occured at 6am, error.
Saturday night -> Stu house party, much drinking occured, and I still had long hair.
Work update: I finished my project! whoopa, and enterprise, now just got modelling, corba and nature left. and zero time to do it in. sux
try orbox B tis a slightly addictive flash game
Two pints of lager and a packet of crisps is an awesome show fools
ooooooooooooooooooooooohhh...
there's no adverts in my cheese (yeah)
there's no adverts in my hair
there's no adverts in my candy floss
and there's no adverts on my chair
there's no adverts in my ickle dog
no adverts in my underwear
then why for godamn motherfucking sake
are there adverts in microsoft freeware
thank you thank you - to the bar my fellow alcohol fiends.
Later on this Blog: The mystery of the mysterious reflective surface mystery
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
so the time of the day, to blog tom did fear
had arrived after a night, of laughing and beer
after some pondering, tom jumped with a start
"I know I'll rhyme my blog in the name of art!"
although his motivation, was somewhat a'lacking
he cried "my dissertation! I must get a'cracking!"
for although the season was a time to be merry
there was no time for tom to drink any sherry
yet so far today, a pen he had not touched
just a spoon and pot of cheese he did clutch
Last night however, was a night to be jolly
the sky was clear so no need for a brolly
a collection of chums, had decided to commune
in a public house by the name harvest moon.
but as this rhyme was penned with a skill
tom needed the loo, so we'll pause until
he returns, ah here tom is back right now
commence our story if time doth allow
much talk occured, about a trip around the land
and a many more distant travelling plans
perhaps a trip from lands end to the groates
to be taken by car not train or ferry boats
but the news of the night was not where we're heading
twas the revelation that mark would be wedding
"Whiskey Tango Foxtrot" Tom nearly did utter
"best news since I can't believe its not butter!"
"whens the event?" "oh not in may but in june!"
"let me buy you a drink in this humble wetherspoon"
and tom thought to himself, "gosh this is scary"
"I'm not out of uni yet it seems we must very"
"soon grow up, blimey what a worrying thought"
a lack of girlfiend made tom quite distraught
but not to worry yourself, for you see i must
tell thee of how I came across this rhyming lust
for I listened to ja rule, read about the grinch
who stole christmas from the whos, indigo finch.
well what poor rhyming, can't imagine what you think
here let me reward you with this interesting link
you see I wrote this rhyme out of sheer desperation
as it sure beats learning things for my dissertation
Bugger
oki so gap in updates, I still trying to scan in Fred The Pirate concept art, but my scanner has died so I downloading some crappy 160mb download just to get it to work again. All annoying really, the peeps at http://www.justgiving.com/alcohol/ have their last drink tonight I mock them with a stick, but still give them money.
Random Quote:
"Crusin on foot, gotta get to the quiz,
no haters to stop me, i'm top of this biz.
make the mistake, i'm the king of this street,
don't get no beef, from those gangsta elite,
so my rhymes about as tight as an irish made kite,
but step to me n i'll knock out ya light.
ya gotta be down in this colchester hood,
or you make the homies frown, as that ain't good.
you'll get a cap in ya ass, before you can say,
step to me bro, cmon make my day.
damn some greek girls" - Lyricist Adam Smith....like wtf?