Blogpost *2456

Extreme discomfort before dishonour.

A fistful of blogposts.

Catch the gravytrain to goodtimes and the 37 to Clapham Junction.

For a few blogs more.

Metaphorical highway of despair...

Phillip Barnaby, alcoholic, mans man, ladies man, man about town, homeless, blind, former ping pong champion and getnleman extrodinare bore a remarkable likeness to Vincent Price.

Recently, after realising that Jackie Chan had lost it and would never be great again I was thrust down the emotional metaphorical road... agast I wandered it's lonely road of despair for days. On this road I met a gentleman. His name was Phillip Barnaby, alcoholic, mans man, ladies man, man about town, homeless, blind, former ping pong champion and getnleman extrodinare

Phillip Barnaby, alcoholic, mans man, ladies man, man about town, homeless, blind, former ping pong champion and getnleman extrodinare came into my companion for that brief time after an incident on an early stint on the bumpy metaphorical road of emotion on a metaphorical stormy night when we were running out of metaphorical petrol. The metaphorical vehicle stumbled and staggered under the weight of not being able to find a metaphorical petrol station--- puttering out the stop to a hault halfway through the 33 listening of Sweet Home Alabama (which I have decided is the theme tune of satan after my stint in the car) a lone stranger carrying a bag shaped like a human body... although I would later be assured it was just his collection of vintage baseball caps. The gentlemen advanced on ths car with a half-slink/half-glide that suggested an ominous presence was near. At first I didn't open the metaphorical car door until the steam coming from his breath completley fogged up the metaphorical window. ''Howdy stranger. I was just wondering if I could hitch a lift?''. I inturn advised the gentlemen of our plight that infact we were out of luck as the metaphorical fuel had run out. The gentlemen who would later describe himself to be Phillip Barnaby, vintage cap collecting, alcoholic, mans man, ladies man, man about town, homeless, blind, former ping pong champion and getnleman extrodinare. I adivsed him that ultimatley that must become a frustratingly long name to fill out on forms. I informed him that I one I was filling in a form yesterday, and I got to the personal details section and I got a bit wrong and I disappeared! I'm back now, mind.

As all good stories start this one starts on the road. PPhillip Barnaby, an alcoholic, mans man, ladies man, man about town, homeless, blind, former ping pong champion and getnleman extrodinare, came into my companion for that brief time after an incident on an early stint on the bumpy metaphorical road of emotion on a metaphorical stormy night when we were running out of metaphorical petrol. The metaphorical vehicle stumbled and staggered under the weight of not being able to find a metaphorical petrol station--- puttering out the stop to a hault halfway through the 33 listening of Sweet Home Alabama (which I have decided is the theme tune of satan after my stint in the car) a lone stranger carrying a bag shaped like a human body... although I would later be assured it was just his collection of vintage baseball caps. The gentlemen advanced on ths car with a half-slink/half-glide that suggested an ominous presence was near. At first I didn't open the metaphorical car door until the steam coming from his breath completley fogged up the metaphorical window. ''Howdy stranger. I was just wondering if I could hitch a lift?''. I inturn advised the gentlemen of our plight that infact we were out of luck as the metaphorical fuel had run out. The gentlemen who would later describe himself to be Phillip Barnaby, former pong champion and backgammon enthusiast and alley cat trained gent extradinare. I adivsed him that ultimatley that must become a frustratingly long name to fill out on forms. I informed him that I one I was filling in a form yesterday, and I got to the personal details section and I got a bit wrong and I disappeared! I'm back now, mind.


An awkward silence later hitchhiking Phillip Barnaby, Phillip Barnaby, vintage cap collecting, alcoholic, mans man, ladies man, man about town, homeless, blind, former ping pong champion and getnleman extrodinare said that if I would allow he had to just use abit of the gerry can of petrol that he had ''to ...errr... burn my vintage baseball cap collection as I have become so disillusioned with the cap trading industry''. So he wander over to the ditch of despair and burnt the human shaped vintage baseball cap containg bag and jumped in the car. The back started yelling and moaning. hitchhiking Phillip Barnaby, Phillip Barnaby, vintage cap collecting, alcoholic, mans man, ladies man, man about town, homeless, blind, former ping pong champion and getnleman extrodinare said; ''Mothballs'.

So the three of us drove back to the reality highway and back home. A stonet cold silence enveloped us. I moved on as strange occurances happen on the bumpy metaphorical backroad of fear and that in question was one crazy night. suspicious hitchhiking Phillip Barnaby, Phillip Barnaby, vintage cap collecting, alcoholic, mans man, ladies man, man about town, homeless, blind, former ping pong champion and getnleman extrodinare reguiled us with tall tales of the time that he met Anthony Hopkins in a lift and the dizzying yarn of how he conquered his fear of cheese. The rest of the tale will have to wait of hitchhiking Phillip Barnaby, the story telling, celeb meeting, ex-cheese fearing, vintage cap collecting, alcoholic, mans man, ladies man, man about town, homeless, blind, former ping pong champion and getnleman extrodinare and at this point a friend. As the adventures along reality highway was what great roadtrip movies were made of, much like Jaws, Casablanca or Steel Magnolias.

You look much thinner in your photos.

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Bob likes the smell of rain, posies and the smell of fresh blood from the kill.

Frankie says relax.

The man, the legend.

The good, the bad and the blog post.

''I never forget a face but in your case I will make an exception''.

Unhappy with life's bitter twists and turns he laughed a stale stunted laugh at the realisation that he had reach a point where he could not remember most of his childhood adventures but would easily be able to rattle off his code for internet banking, a login for his internet chatline or phone numbers for takeaway bodegas. The existance of these things were not the reason that poisioned his mood was sullied but the fact that his mind felt they were more deserving of memory than catching tadpoles by the stream with a jug and hide and seek with the neighbours on the rooves of the local school. Those days held a magic that the subsequent years have stripped from these. Although, a small flame still stays aflame for the hope that through the storm moments like these will happen again. More memories from the good old days you haven't lived yet that will be forgotten just like the tadpoles at the stream and chasing Mr. Whippy on your 10 speed.

The Red Army: Satan's love child? Or is Jaffa nuts misunderstood?

Brother Red. G Minger. Ranga. Ginga. Fanta Pants. Ginger pubes. Red headed
rat rooter. Jaffa dax. Gook. Nigger. All racially orientated words that only
two of which would truly produce cringe worthy responses.

Gingers have been copping a bad wicket of it the last few years. Whilst other minorities have been bask in the warm everloving light of the PC age, gingers have been on the front line of the masses need to kick the the small kid in class. Brother Red has been hit hard because in an age when to talk of skin colour is taboo in anything other that a sterile scientific PC terminology brother red skin has never been whiter. When the PC train left to hand holding town Brother Red was left waiting with his bags at the station enjoying the slurs of those who had lost their verbal punching bag. The irony is the same people who are reluctant to to pick on a Jewish gent or pick on an Asian fellow have been happy to divert their attention to the G-Mings who have become their one stop racial venting stop.

Brother Red doesn't have a history of slavery, Brother Red doesn't have a history of neo-nazi attacks, Brother Red's kind wasn't the victim of genocide but does little Barry Brewster the 'Red Headed Rat Rooter' hurt any less when he is picking on in the playground. In fact Jaffa Pants hurts more, as researchers have found Ranga's cells produce skin and hair pigment that have a dysfunctional MCR1 this dysfunction triggers the release of more of the hormone that stimulates these cells, but this hormone also stimulates a brain receptor related to pain sensitivity. Tagent or no, a point as painfull as a red nut in the midsummers day sun without SPF+89.

The painful trot of the carrot tops has been going since the Middle Ages. Where red hair had been associated with the evils of the land. Red was the colour of the devil and the redheads were said to be conceived during the forbidden period of women's period. The implications of which, are laughable. But have times really changed and opinions become more evolved? Is Barry Brewster more deserving of a slur than Charlie Chan or Abraham Moses? In a world of media saturation and rounded edges brother red has slipped through the cracks. For every furrowed brow at the word 'Chink', or 'Paki', three 'Jaffa Nuts' will get by unnoticed. So should people be stopped from saying these things?

Well, the world of PC saturation has made things a lot more bland for everyone but perhaps constructive commentaries and witty observations should replaced weary 2D stereotypical slurs that have been warn through like a ranga's temper on red cordial. Maybe this is a valuable social commentary or maybe all asian men have small dicks, all black men can't swim, all Indian's smell of curry and Red's are satan's love children.

This day in history

On the Frontier in an age or heroic acts and dasdidly deeds there was a tribe of Indians call the Hankas. Revered across lands for their legendary abilities with the spear on the hunting plains and battlefields, amazing
communication skills being evidenced in the innovations such as smoke signals and dixie cups, renound for their abilities to fashion the most luxurious weaves, creators of the softest of cloth or their natural ability for trade and remember all the words from the loveboat theme tune.

The much loved Chief of the tribe, Chief Running Bear, led his tribe to great prosperity for many years. Running Bear's wife, Running Water whose abilities with the needle were as legendary as Chief Running Bears with the spear was the creator of a cloth that was soft yet exorbant, masculine yet feminine and maliable yet strong. The cloth was the prized creations of the tribe apart from their complete collection of FronzieTM memorabila .

When the tribes beloved leader Running Bear passed away, his much celebrated son Running Nose became chief. Chief Running Nose was the best hunter, the greatest trader, had an ability to converse with other tribes without having any prior knowledge of their language and could do the robot better than anyone in the tribe. Running Nose was responsible for the first line of trades with 'the white devil' through the famously good hearted leader of the 7th Regiment Captain Lionel Cotter. Cotter fell in love with the cloth of the tribe and inturn this cloth was brought to the Europeans settlements with great success for tending wounds and infections due to the strength and absorbancy. Captain Cotter wanted to honour the Chief for this fabulous gift and decided to name the cloth after him. So it was forever known as the Hankachief for it's Running Nose.

I want to be an individual just like everyone else.

A moment to remember...

Ask any youngster his favourite childhood movies and most likely Wizard of OZ, Indiana Jones, Back to the Future, won't be far from the tips of their tongue but one movie synominous with childhood rainy day entertainment is THE GOONIES.

The story of a bunch of kids setting out to find pirate treasure to save their neighbourhood. The movie starred Babara Streisands step-son Josh Brolin, a future-Hobbit Sean Astin, a future Indiana Jones sidekick and a young boy who's charm was as penetrating as his smile. A boy who would go onto to make great movies such 'Lost Boys', 'Stand by me', 'Meatballs' and 'Gremlins' and also appreared in other trash such as 'The 'Burbs'.

Also of note was the Corey-Mania. When Corey was on top with his 'Lost Boys' co-star Corey Haim. The two went onto make a series of sensational 80's classics including the classic 'License to Drive'.


Recently, Feldman has managed to not die in a pool of his own vomit, after week long stints on hard drugs, drink or being best friends with Michael Jackson. Which all parties believe to be a miracle. Infact, he has not only done this once but 4 times and considering you only need 3 miracles to be a catholic saint... Our fingers are crossed Corey fans.

So this is basically a group to remember the good times, the bad but mainly the 'Corey Times'.

So like we did for Dirk Diggler and Jesus Christ, we will wait for the Coreys second coming.


NEWS*************

2/04/2007 - Corey enjoys the fruits of his labour and
gives birth to a pineapple. Corey decides
week long K binge in Vegas bad idea.

12/02/2007 - Corey Gets involved

08/02/2007-Corey can't believe it's not butter... unfortunatley he is on an acid trip and it is actually lard that he has liberally been smearing on his bread.

25/01/07 - Corey gets off drugs charges.

21/02/06 - The 'Get Corey off Super-Glue' fundraiser huge
success.

12/12/05 - Corey shopping centre appearance an
embarrassment when he gets high off whip
cream can fumes and shits in the water
fountain, shortly after is caught eating dog
food from the supermarket.

06/12/05 - Corey releases his autobiography; ''What
becomes of the broken hearted'', an account
of his rise to fame during the 80's. The highs &
Lows, Uppers & Downers, Caviar & Dog Food.

I used to go Seal clubbing but the drugs are shit and the music is twice as bad.

The Buck-a-roo

In feudal Japan, samurais believed in complete focus on on their goals. Training for days at a time. Employing incredible weight training regimes, speed and stealth practice and the ability to stay awake days at a time. They would have great reprisals for the failure of these training tasks, as how could one be trusted to do in battle what he can't do in training. None of the punishments as harsh as that for falling asleep. All available loose objects would be placed on top of the samurai pinning him for days at a time for his failure to adhere to the code.

The ancient practice has been passed through the ages. This practice has been commonly colloquially known as Buck-a-roo-ing. In the ancient tongue pronounced 'Bakruji oo'.

The common day objective is to place as much debris on the friend who has passed out as possible. Books, coats, tables, bikes, surfboards and clothesline hangers.

The Guiness World Record for person most
Buck-a-roo'D is Andrew Davie. YAY! He has been
buck-a-aroo'D 475 times in 132 days yay!! That is three times more than anyone on the planet. YAY!!!

NEWS***************************

Memorable 'BUCK-A-ROOS'

7.Andrew Davie the buck-a-roo master has received argubly the biggest buckaroo in history bits and pieces were borrowed from everywhere, Jimbo borrowed the infamous double dong borrowed from the guys at erotic island, Dave borrowed a clothes rack from Chris and Nick borrowed 5 pounds from Jimbo, although this was anunrelated matter. Andy was photographed with a huge rubber cock sticking out of his mouth. Many have unfairly speculated that on his birthday drinks night last week that he wasn't really that drunk and that he in fact quite enjoyed it. These reports have been furiously denied by the Buck-a-roo society head and consider all accusations unfair and unjust, in fact the opposite, completely true.

6.Alex McMillian recieves awake Buck-A-Roo. Public response inturn creates the need of the 'Organisation for humane Buckaroo-ing'.

5. Andy Davie with candle alight atop mountainous debris.

4. Chamma-langa-ding-dong with clothes frame atop the debris.

3. Megan dissapears.

2. Andy's you tube video.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=1IJORYRBc_c
copy and paste above.

1.''You've got da goo!'' -James Campbell to crazy random pass out girl in Nick's flat. This holds record at speed buck-a-rooing. Full body dissapear 'Rooing completeted in 90seconds.

In other news, welcome to the newcomers from Liverpool, Leeds and London.

Save animals, East Veg-eat-arians

Sick of daddy girl uni students who have decided that free thinking is so hot right now and must try to make you change your opinion... by conversational force if necessary? I know I am. I have nothing against Vego's in general but I do hate these Che Guevera T-shirt sporting dread brandishing politics majors telling me that I don't really like meat and that I should eat vegetables and fruit only. I say that when vegetables are made out of meat I'll get involved in their eco-friendly ways.

So what are the Vego-tarians all about? Well, this is the last line of defence against the hippy-tye dyed regime of these people who think we should go against one of the most instinctive actions of our race, to mung down on a big fat steak in fear of killing a wee calf, having a lampchop in fear of mutilating a sheep or having beef in black bean sauce for fear of killing a dog. We feel that if they truly believe that it is cruel to eat animals then they should offer their nice succulent tender flesh up for the tasting.

Only problem is that after years of lentil diets, most don't have much meat on the bone. But at least for those of us watching our waist lines it will be a meal that is low in fat.

Bring on the carnage.

And remember vegetarians don't worry the next time you eat a big mac, there's no meat in em anyway.