i'm ill

what's worse than finding a maggot in your apple?
finding half a maggot.
what's worse than finding half a maggot in your apple?
gang-rape.

i'm busy

please call back later

i'm the urban cowboy, baby, i got speed

iiiii goooot ev-rything i need. bu-dum dum dum.
i'm somewhat late with it, but i've recently finished watching firefly. those who have watched need no explanation. those who haven't: why don't you become a member of the previous club?...
it's a lovely show. just, just... lovely. i'm sad now
urban cowboy... eh? this is my new blogging name. i feel it encompasses a few of the original categories that i wished to encompass with my encompassing. [see june 21st] here is why:
biker: a bike is like a horse. you sit on it. you can ride it. you can put panniers on it. it has a saddle. it has a certain level of horse power.
techie: living in an urban metropolis i feel i soak up naturally emitted technology on a daily basis.
pirate: cowboys are like the desert version of pirates. totally. they wear bandannas. i do not though, i am not still in the 80's.
purveyor of fine hats: cowboys have the best hats of all time. ever. i too have good hats, including a cowboy hat. a good one though; more kevin bacon in tremors than garth brooks in nashville.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
here are the reasons why my blogging name is inappropriate:
biker: a bike is not a horse. it is a bicycle with an engine within it. if you put an engine in a horse it topples over.
techie: technology is not emitted naturally. that would be crazy talk.
pirate: i am nothing like a pirate. and nor is a cowboy. me & cowboys share the following un-pirate-y things in common: 2 legs/2 hands/2 eyes/land-lubbing/no parrot. we also favour stubble over the full beard.
purveyor of fine hats: cowboys stick to one hat. i have many. do you think it would spoil the character of a cowboy if he were to don a deerstalker or bobble hat? i think it would create a whole new level of wild-western enjoyment.

i'm a big fat lemon

i've only gone and lost my keys. i suck.
i'm brilliant at not losing stuff. i've never lost anything except my debit card, and that was only 'cos my little sheister of a cousin hid it while we were in australia. bugger bugger bugger.
bugger.
so if anyone finds a set of keys with a yellow ID tag and a black microchip tag on it, please let me know. i'll give you a reward. like a cuddle or something.

i'm the discoverer of a national treasure

i've worked it out. i knew it couldn't have been all it appeared to be. nothing and noone could exist with that little depth. ladies and gentlemen, despite all our belief systems, one of this nation's greatest treasures is:
Jordan.
i know, i was shocked as you are now. i literally just spewed over my fresh filled pasta when i realised it.
katie price/mrs. peter andre/media-whore/dumb-ass... call her what you will, but she is an artistic genius. she joins the ranks of Leigh Bowery and Gilbert & George as members of society who have dedicated their entire life to their art and in doing so, enriched life's great quilt-cover.
in a sacrifice of her own human looks she has turned her body into a social commentary on the falseness of our current society. a walking representation of the ugliness of materialism, the mediocrity of the nation and the ignorance of worldwide injustice.
she has even entered into a life-long contract (a marriage no less!) with a person who represents everything that is stupid in the modern world. not content with that, she is abandoned mother to a footballer's son, a man who (like other footballers) is vastly overpaid and living an undeservedly decadent life for his contribution to society. not only that (!) one of her sons is an ethnic minority and she made damn sure he'd also turn out to be disabled by drinking and smoking during pregnancy. what an amazing woman.
i'm sorry jordan, if you wanted to wait until your old age (29?) before you revealed this secret, but i think you deserve to be congratulated right away on your achievements.
i think the true beauty of what she has achieved is in the art of misdirection. allowing her stretched~airbrushed~flesh to grace the covers and broadcasts of what we could entitle "bad-media" means that those people with more resources than their genitalia can easily find more quality information and do something about the problems of this world. an easy rule of thumb: picture of jordan = nothing of value here.
thank you katie.
i'm still trying to work out the symbolism of a hot-air balloon race, but i'll get there.
well done jordan, good luck to all who sail in you.

i'm considering yes

a while ago a man called danny wallace wrote a book called 'the yes men'
i've never read it but i like the idea. he conducted an experiment whereby he said "yes" to every question he was asked. from what i heard he did it for a few months and ended up gaining a load of money, experiencing some life-changing events and gaining a beautiful wonderful new wife. if you've read it and this ain't true, thats fine, its the whole sentiment that i'm interested in.
i like the idea, so i've been giving it a go for a while now. i have to say that not much is different in my life except for a more positive outlook on everything than i ever had before.
as for life-changing events... i don't know, but -> i did end up spending an evening with a beautiful and talented singer/songwriter after her gig in norf london / i'm now working on a musical with a bunch of fantastic people and we're performing it next week http://www.seetickets.com/see/event.asp?e%7Cartist=BY+JEEVES%21&eventtype=40&resultsperpage=100&filler1=see / and yesterday i went out to dinner with some people who i didn't really know very well but turned about to be great.
i'll let you know how it all goes....

i'm an a excellant driver, i drive on the driveway

today i did the best lap time of the day on a driving simulator that was at work.
i did a lap in 1:18.760
the next fastest of the day was 1:21.346
the guy who runs the simulator has only managed 1:20.000
i kick ass. you mortals must forever bow down before me.

i'm the dead, risen

it feels like someone has glued my eyes together with a glue gun and filled my joints with honey. my neck sweats and my spine is host to a thousand shards of ice. my wrists are as heavy as stage-weights and my head is holding back one primal yawn. cement clogs my sinuses and my jaw hangs like an unmanned marionette.
i know the true meaning of tiredness. help me.....
its been a long week.
but chin up. the world is beautiful.

i'm the king of pop

sound system is in bike. yippeee!
fastest lap time again today. super!
nice long chat with a freund. bon!
eyes watering like the niagra ones... bum.
my eyes have been leaking now for what seems like a fortnight. in actual fact its been more like 13 days. i don't know why.. is it hayfever or tiredness or am i losing my sight? none of these options are particularly welcome.
i am trying to come up with a new blogging name so i can start blogging on a new blogging website where i can blog in a bloggy way. blog. my buddies all have fetching blog identities that are both aesthetically and audibly pleasant: Wide-Eyed Troubadour, Red, Booty-Lace and so forth.
i want mine to encompass the following aspects of my personality: biker, techie, punk, pirate, purveyor of fine hats....
any suggestions?

i'm a cultural genius

oh my fucking christ the internet is a wonderful thing
comcastic

only the young die young

why is the dating game so difficult?
single people are often looking for someone to end their singularity, they sometimes bump into someone else who is also on the same quest, they're both in the same boat, they're both attracted to the other, they're both adults, neither of them are freaks. so whats the big deal?
luckily i don't have this problem. all the women i like are freaks.

i'm getting serious

despite all my expectations my blog has now been read by 30 people in a week. christ alive. qu'elle suprisette mon bonjourno amy mon due.
so i set myself two projects today. i was to install satellite navigation and a sound system into my dear dear motorbike-cycle and run cabling aboout mine house, so all the music i have on y computer could be played anywhere in the building.
on the subject of music i' currently playing "la phaze" by dj zebra. its french and its rap and its rock. get in.
running the cables was a piece of carrot cake. i can now envelope my entire abode (and consequently my existence) in music. i can literally coat myself. once i have removed aforementioned coat i can turn on my music, lay back and enjoy, though i don't speak french; and i doubt bass guitars and drum samples work as well as linguaphone.
project number two: not so successful. sat-nav in, done, secure, sexy, useful, talented, punctual and with a sense of direction that rivals jesus.
BUT...
sound system, not so successful. so i've pretty much ripped to shreds two really good personal sound systems one of which went bloody excellant with my iPod. what i'm left with is - some circuitry, some wires, some batteries, some plastic. but i won't give in. there will be sound on my bike. there rutting will.
i was on tv today. see me working here
dj zebra has given way to nouvelle vague. you should all listen to them. they do alternative/lounge versions of classic punk tracks. currently: love will tear us apart by joy division by nouvelle vague.
i have to work tomorrow. it is sunday tomorrow. its true, we don't live in a free world.
okaybye

i'm a voice; i keeps on callin' me

so i found out that blog is a shortening of web-log. i wonder how many thousands, millions, scores of blog there are. and why do people write them? why am i bothering? whats the very point in typing here and now while i could be watching over my right shoulder at the mexico/angola game?
yep.
no-one will read this. and if they do they won't post a reply or come back again. or do they? is this a subculture that i don't know exists? are there compulsive blogreaders who'll subscribe to everything in an attempt to gather in hidden gems and wash in the suds of privacy?
14 people have come here this week, and it wasn't that long ago that i typed my first one. what have you found? what were you looking for? who are you? why am i writing to you? why am i addicted to typing all this shit? why didn't i stop after the first question? what do i hope to find?
weird isn't it? that photo of me could be interpretted as me checking my willy-area for urine stains. i wasn't. i was laughing wildly.
blogs are like diarys i s'pose. the last time i wrote a diary it was because i was scared and alone and bored and depressed. i'm not any of those things now, so thats nice.
stop typing.

i'm writing a book

i am. i'm writing one. i always thought i should. here is the opening:

The world changed the first time I was naked in public, my organ flapping lightly against my pubis as I sprinted the streets, light drizzle coating my chest and damping the fluff in my belly button. Across my face; my first smile in a decade spread, warming my freezing shoulders.

This is not a good way to begin a story.

It is probably better to begin by telling you something about myself - I am tall. I do not live with my parents anymore. the computer at my desk doesnt work properly and sometimes I get to work and its written things on the screen overnight. My house is filled with things that I don't own.

I kept a detailed record of the last six months but I filed many of the pages away and cannot find them. The ones you are beginning to read are the few that I found in my freezer with my neighbours foot and address book. There was a padlock on the freezer but I found the key.

I am a standard person with strict morals. This may not be immediately evident.

don't worry. i'll go back and re-edit again when the books finished. okaybye

i'm love you long time

its a long story....
but...
i'm friends with my friend again. hurrah! his blog is and will be a lot better 'n mine. you should read it if you're into reading blogs. he has always wanted an audience for his art. his writing is:
beautiful, naive, hard, honest
laugh and cry here: http://wide-eyedtroubadour.blogspot.com/
i'm off now, back to sillytown for the festival of 'you-know-what'
(this is not a euphamism for masturbation)

i'm flipper, flipper, faster than lightning

did you know that dolphins are so intelligent that within a couple of weeks you can train americans to throw them fish...

i'm neither

there's more of a genetic difference between men and women than there are between blacks and whites.
in that case, shouldn't all racists be gay? (think about it)
and in that case, they should understand what it's like to be on the receiving end of unjust predjudice and shut the fuck up.
maybe they could spend the saved time working out their 'coming out to the other nazis' speech.
i also hate fucking drunk football fans who harrass my friend when she's on the tube. so your team lost, who gives a shit, leave my friends alone. you scared the shit out of her you fucking assmunchers.
i'm sorry to anyone else who i may have offended.

i'm... um... Blog?

i am not sure what 'blog' is short for. it is a strange word. it does include the word 'log' which can mean either a section of tree or a big poo. maybe it derived from biog, short for biography. i don't care too much either way really.
today i am off work because i work too hard and my boss sent me home. sometimes he works too hard and i send him home. it seems like a fair arrangement.
this is actually the truth.
yuh-huh.
i don't like the way that myspace implies that i only have 6 friends. i have at least 12.
goodbye now. take care.