http://www.space-invaders.com/sominv.html

har har. it's fun when you live near one and you can point it out to retards when they come visit.. (and the ghetto vice sign written on the pavement in paint) but these little men get old really fast. kinda makes you wanna hit the fucking lonely planeteer who invented them.

belgian idol

oh my god look the naked ambition in her eyes. it's ugly.. oh wait, you can't even see it when the photo is this small.. raté. in any case, it's a DONT.

at least i'm not ruining this thing by posting inane rubbish every 30 seconds.

radio nostalgie (peccavisti)

first up is star wars meets cinquentennaire.. at least i can spell.
it's one of 3 places which have views in brussels
the Instrument Museum and the GB carpark* are the other two

[* as in irene and viktor are as boring as.. etc.]

then there is louis demonstrating the slut position in his remedial maths class
finally irene sits on louis, tries, and fails to successfully do the slut position

viktor don't get mad or i'll put the photos of you and 'mackan' up.

don't look at the sky (cos it's sin, yar)

here's a super tenous claim to fame. my spinster former english teacher (fan of gerard manley hopkins) is the aunt of the boy who was in the levi's advert which had this song as backing

here is some gerard manley hopkins

I CAUGHT this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird,—the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.

[har har is has the word gash in it]

sheer sluttery

so. amazing film. she looks a little like a vampire, a little like brendan's sister, but hot none-the-less, what with the texan accent and the talking to a guy who has been shot in the stomach about a spider in a jar and the how come my sentences are long but not proustian.

actually even though it's an amazing film i was still like ugh 45 minutes til the credits. buzzer sounds, blogging cliché coming up about how short my attention span is. how come there aren't more photos of her in this film on the internet. someone needs to start a webarchive of stills from films.

from this day hence, bad taste will be italicized. jesus, the cost of public transport in london these days.. taking the tube'll cost you an arm and a leg, and on the buses it's through the roof..

RDRR

bucolics pt II

So. The top church-hall is in a village called Green Bottom. The middle photo is of May Hill. The Bottom church is in Flaxley

bucolics, georgics and eclogues

http://www.velocity.net/~acekc/gangsign.htm

fuck yeah. i watched a 'show' about some san salvadorian gang called 18 and some other 'show' about south african gangs.. mostly from mannenberg. i think one was called the hardlivings and the other was the americans

they gave people bow-ties and stuff. (for the uninitiated - it's where you cut someone's throat and pull their tongue through the gap) yum.

this may be the worst post ever, i'll find a photo to liven it up







these are photos of the village, on the web. it's not our house - it belongs to the manners. (they have a swimming pool, shh.) yar but the church is our ugly, victorian, church.

killing time in self-defence (yar)

they're a super-cool band with the trilbies and the glasses of white wine
and all the weekend rock stars are in the toilets practising their lines

i don't want to hear ya (kick me out, kick me out)
i don't want to hear ya (kick me out, kick me out)

his mate thinks it's amazing so all that's left
is the proof that love's not only blind but also deaf

i'll tell you your problem
you're not from new york you're from rotherham

summerphotos

summerphotos

well i was going to post 700 photos but blogger is being a fag

a burnin' ring of fire (he made cows jump through)

show no love like foster kids

(female voice : Mr Mr)

Mr: I know the fuck you heard
Give me head while I drive
Bitch, I like to swerve
I'll take you to the airport so you can cop them birds
Now is you bout it mami?
Whoa, let me know
Is it the dick, the car, the looks, or the dough?
She said, "Mostly the dough, playa I don't lie."
I hit once, then hit her girlfriend
Ask, "When can we all get together again?"

Hot ass whips is what they see Boo in
We play down in C-A-C-U-N
Uh, nice wit the O flex outta line
Cut a bitch off like O.J.
Yall aint ready

Top down on the Cadillac Allante'
I get street stripes like Carlito Brigante
Dog, I tax yall cause it costs to live
And still show no love like foster kids

I rent out homes in the hood and live across the bridge

Ebédszünet miatt zárva

this is budapest airport






and this is budapest.





guess where i will be spending time on the way to athens.



[obviously the tags were supposed to be next to the respective pictures. schoolboy error.]

the war on an abstract noun

well whadaya know (not much) i clearly have a cult following amongst the crazier donnie darkies in this country, cos someone did try to bomb whitehall, and they arrested him.

they sealed off about a half a square mile around new scotland yard like 2 months ago, and no-one gave a rat's ass.

must stop writing about this, don't want FLG to become the terrorism blog. still, at least that's a niche.

Grease vs. Maccie D's

The Characters: Grease, a greek.
A Macdonalds drone.
Macdonalds Manager.
Various extras.

The curtain rises on the interior of a macdonalds burger bar. Stage left is the cash desk and ordering point, stage right is a large glass door and some tables. It is early morning. The drone stands behind the cash desk. Enter Grease and companions.

GREASE: So, what SHIT am i going to eat today?
Drone blanks him.
GREASE: How about a mcSHIT menu with extra SHIT?
Drone blanks him, companions snigger.
GREASE: You don't have that? Ok, how about a crispy mcPOISON menu then?
Drone looks nervous.
GREASE: Ok, ok. How about....a mc NOTHING menu. I'll give you 7 euros, and you give me a tray!
Drone calls manager. chaos insues, during which the manager threatens to eject Grease and co. from the burger king, and grease pulls a variety of grimaces while the managers back is turned. Actors are left free to imagine these grimaces, but may wish to use the example in figure i as a basic guideline. Grease eventually calms himself.
GREASE: So, gimme the breakfast mcmuffin menu.
Drone complies.
GREASE: Oh shit no i dont want that give me the continental mcmorning menu instead.
The group retires to the tables stage right, where they begin to eat
GREASE: Fuck, o forgot the milk.
Fetches milk, returns to tables
GREASE (pelting companions with single serving milk tubs): Here you go guys, heres your goddamn milk! ya! ha! take that!
enter manager stage right etc. etc.


figure i

GI Joe

the original is actually better but i couldn't be assed to find it

FENSLER forever.

(don't give him the stick)

bomb whitehall

you gonna fucking deport me, now, fatso clarke?
you are a sell-out, authoritarian waste-of-lard. man-made law is still apostasy (allahu akhbar)

so should they have deported morrissey in the 80s cos he said he wished the brighton bomb had killed thatcher? go to jack's website, he posts 7 times a day.

i think morrissey deported himself anyway. now he lives in cary grant or clark gable's house in LA, i forget which.

sex traffik

he's not throwing it really well or anything, but he is pretty porcine.
so plus points for that. in case you can't read it it says gang signs are the new black. they are also the old black and every other temporally-marked black. every, single, one. actually he looks like he is gonna punch someone with it.. poke out each one of their three eyes, simultaneously.

they should have bombed on 7/11

so, i was gonna keep mining the rich seam of 'themed posts' and talk about claims-to-fame. but yar

the other day i was walking past liverpool street (actually i wasn't but i could have been) and i was thinking (or, if i had been, i might have thought) how i left the city the night before the bombs went off, and how i used to go through there all the time on the way to work, and if it had been a month earlier and so on. though actually i was never up at that time, even when i had to work, so they would have had to bomb a month earlier and some time later. also i could decided to take a bus home from 'chilling' at massi's and yar. but i never sit near the back., i mean.. did they want to kill all the crack addicts, black kids and glaswegians? anyway the point is, big up to the victims and all, but i'm tired of all these jumpy idiots on buses going 'driver, driver! that man has a rucksack!' and i actually overheard an irish bum say to another 'this city ain't safe anymore, wha'

and i call bullshit on the fucking 'they will never break the spirit of this great city' editorials in the mail and the express. london was built on violence. for fuck's sake, london has always been dirty, overpriced and dangerous. now it's just dirty, overpriced and a little more dangerous.

are you down with the syndrome?

lucy if you are reading this, tard-face, send me an email or phone me 0044 um ask anna the rest i don't wanna put it on the internet. and tell me if you are still yunking to london.

The Vision of Piers Ploughman

um. I was reading oakparkmastermind and it seems to me that the-retarded-stuff-we-used-to-do would be a fun theme to 'riff' on.

we were at a party once where we choked each other till we passed out, strictly for kicks. (we were supposed to be the older, wiser kids there.. still, aliyoh, 25 was playing spin the bottle with brendan's sister, 15, so we clearly weren't the only retards around)

we used to sniff poppers (and they are solvents, like glue, right?)

we snorted tequila when we were in 3rd year.. but didn't go so far as to shoot it in our eyes.

i wonder if smashing chunks of watermelon into your face, for a laugh and a packet of cigarettes (in florence) counts..

we told my little brother to try running across the plastic pool cover, cos it would definitely support his weight if he moved fast enough, jesus-lizard style. (needless to say he fell through and could have been trapped underneath.)

we used to have unprotected sex all the time. (brendan and i, of course.)

hello, mum.

[addenda: riding between the metro carriages with a laughing black guy during a tube-strike in paris. telling alistair to fuck off after he had waved a knife at me for telling him to fuck off. falling asleep in the toilet at brendan's with the door open, wearing only my smallest pair of boxers. driving with brendan to the nightshop to buy more vodka cos he had drunk what we had, um pulling skids with brendan and bending his axle, then driving on the bent axle to buy booze to take to sweden the next day. pulling more skids and stopping inches from a lamp-post. hello, brendan's mum]

Levallois

i just came back from paris.
i dropped my glasses in the seine - can't do THAT in london, can you?

clara is in canada and lucy in ceylon, so precisely NO-ONE will read this anyway.
waiver- i didn't actually do oberkampf or the trois chapeaux this time, but we did intend to.
we did do sartre this time, did him good.

i was going to post some stills from les triplettes de belleville but i can't because blogger is crying on the floor in foetal position and is in no fit state to put photos up. it's upset because the OC finished and everyone in england is writing a post saying how sad they are and how fucked-up and gripping the final episode was. sorry, the season finale. [ hey! i know.. why don't you italicize every other word?, ed.]

and that ethipian girl who(m) madonna was thursting herself on and clinging to was fucking hot.
'ahhh for an aspiring writer you write like a retarded child'
- yes, suck. it. up. (dude)

the bookshops in hay are actually not so hot. except that a one-eyed guy working in one of them gave me a reduction.