If I ever accidentally had a child, I wouldn't need to hire a babysitter.
Monday, 19 July 2010
Sunday, 11 July 2010
There's always someone worse off than yourself.
Whenever anything would go wrong, if I was feeling down about something, my dad would always say something like "There's always someone worse off than you".
But that's like a sliding scale of shit.
I mean, it only works for so long before you get to the guy that has numerous horrible diseases, is riddled with cancer, is having a double heart attack, was born with only one arm (that has a shark chewing on it), is blind, deaf, mentally retarded, is surrounded by people taunting him for being mentally retarded, has no fashion sense, is naked, with a horse buggering him, the horse has fleas, and aids, even the fleas have aids, the guy's phone is ringing constantly but he can't answer it because his only good arm has a shark on the end of it, and his guide dog has just died after being hit by a car, his car that was just stolen by a gypsy who also just happened to place a curse on the guy. The guy has no legs, just wheels, rusty wheels that squeak every time the guy moves, which is often because he's in constant fucking agony, moving and flailing his shark arm everywhere. He has gum disease and malaria of the nipple, a parasite fish is living in his penis that plays loud music every night, he is allergic to everything, particularly bees, which is unfortunate because he sweats pollen, especially when he's nervous, like now. He sweats pollen but cries tears of crude oil, and he has reason to cry because BP have plans to put an oil rig up his ass after the horse has finished with him, they'll have to put him out first because he's on fire, did I mention he's on fire? Which is almost a good thing, because it stops the mugger from stabbing him more than 12 times, the mugger who's trying to rob the guy of his shark. In the midst of being late for his appointment with the cancer specialist, having TWO heart attacks, being raped by a horse (with aids), the shark attack, being stabbed and on fire, the guy has accidentally "parked" himself in a no-parking zone, and is about to get a ticket from a traffic warden. A traffic warden who also just happens to be the guy's mother. She tells him that she's very disappointed in him and that she wishes the 14 abortions had worked, in her attempt to get rid of him. He can't hear this however because he's deaf. So she uses a dirty syringe from a nearby alley to carve her message to him, in braille on his testicles. The guy's house has just been bombed by a right-wing extremist home makeover show, his dad is in fact the horse that is raping him, his hairline has started to recede, he badly needs to shit himself, but BP have started laying pipe before he can, the horse has now decided to randomly kick the guy in the head with a rusty horseshoe, the guy gets tetanus from the horseshoe, his favourite tv show is about to get cancelled, his girlfriend dumps him for having sex with a horse, a horse that is also his father, and a unicorn, the horse magically gets the guy pregnant after raping him, pregnant with triplets, triplet centaurs that will kick their way out through the guys face, he has a paper cut, has stubbed his toe, and God has just decided to localize the apocalypse to just this one guy.
But, BUT there's always someone worse off than yourself.
But that's like a sliding scale of shit.
I mean, it only works for so long before you get to the guy that has numerous horrible diseases, is riddled with cancer, is having a double heart attack, was born with only one arm (that has a shark chewing on it), is blind, deaf, mentally retarded, is surrounded by people taunting him for being mentally retarded, has no fashion sense, is naked, with a horse buggering him, the horse has fleas, and aids, even the fleas have aids, the guy's phone is ringing constantly but he can't answer it because his only good arm has a shark on the end of it, and his guide dog has just died after being hit by a car, his car that was just stolen by a gypsy who also just happened to place a curse on the guy. The guy has no legs, just wheels, rusty wheels that squeak every time the guy moves, which is often because he's in constant fucking agony, moving and flailing his shark arm everywhere. He has gum disease and malaria of the nipple, a parasite fish is living in his penis that plays loud music every night, he is allergic to everything, particularly bees, which is unfortunate because he sweats pollen, especially when he's nervous, like now. He sweats pollen but cries tears of crude oil, and he has reason to cry because BP have plans to put an oil rig up his ass after the horse has finished with him, they'll have to put him out first because he's on fire, did I mention he's on fire? Which is almost a good thing, because it stops the mugger from stabbing him more than 12 times, the mugger who's trying to rob the guy of his shark. In the midst of being late for his appointment with the cancer specialist, having TWO heart attacks, being raped by a horse (with aids), the shark attack, being stabbed and on fire, the guy has accidentally "parked" himself in a no-parking zone, and is about to get a ticket from a traffic warden. A traffic warden who also just happens to be the guy's mother. She tells him that she's very disappointed in him and that she wishes the 14 abortions had worked, in her attempt to get rid of him. He can't hear this however because he's deaf. So she uses a dirty syringe from a nearby alley to carve her message to him, in braille on his testicles. The guy's house has just been bombed by a right-wing extremist home makeover show, his dad is in fact the horse that is raping him, his hairline has started to recede, he badly needs to shit himself, but BP have started laying pipe before he can, the horse has now decided to randomly kick the guy in the head with a rusty horseshoe, the guy gets tetanus from the horseshoe, his favourite tv show is about to get cancelled, his girlfriend dumps him for having sex with a horse, a horse that is also his father, and a unicorn, the horse magically gets the guy pregnant after raping him, pregnant with triplets, triplet centaurs that will kick their way out through the guys face, he has a paper cut, has stubbed his toe, and God has just decided to localize the apocalypse to just this one guy.
But, BUT there's always someone worse off than yourself.
Monday, 18 January 2010
Deeep Cove
The place is actually called, Deep Cove, but I seemed to put an extra "E" in there?
I made it deeper.
We went to Deep Cove a couple of days ago. It's a teeny-tiny little tourist place that is based around a cove. That may or may not be deep? I don't know? I haven't tested it.
Maybe the locals are pulling a fast one? Is it even a cove? What is a cove? Do I even know? I'm assuming I do, but I could be wrong? This is a lot of question marks.
While there, we checked out a small, local gallery, walked up and down, ate sushi, drank fizzy liquid, and took in the town. There's not much of it, it's pretty much just a street that ends at the waterfront, but what there is of it is very beautiful, and I'm guessing that there are many one-armed people living in the town.
We came across a little girl, named Isobel, who was selling drawings outside a pizza place. Apparently, 75% of the proceeds were going to the victims of the Haiti earthquake. I would like to believe that. There is a voice in the back of my head that says she is saving up for a condo, but I'll give her the benefit of the doubt. She was super cute, and we bought two pictures from her, I got a cat, Amalia got herself a very happy looking snowman. Isobel is now an established artist. Good for her!
We then finished off the day in a coffee shop, that kindly gave us the chance to buy two coffees, sit down, drink a couple of mouthfuls, before saying "Sorry guys, we're closing now!"
Thanks a f_cking bunch!
Next time, just take our money and tell us to get out, why don't you? The whole pretense of letting us believe you were going to let us sit in your establishment and finish the beverages we have just paid you for, is just downright cruel. Don't toy with people that need coffee and sit-down time.
The place is a pretty nice spot to visit if you want a peaceful afternoon.
(But not if you want a coffee at the end of the day)
Sunday, 13 December 2009
Transformer Jenks
I wanted Ultra Magnus to be so cool. I finally got him one Christmas.
He was so very shit.
1:51
It's easy to speculate about things that you can never find answers for. I'm afraid that's one of my weaknesses, I often find myself wondering about things that have either happened a long time ago, or something that scares me about the future. I can't help it, I'm a thinker. Not a great one. Not even a good one. But a thinker nonetheless.
My mum was not really in the best of health for most of her life. In my early years, I knew her as a diabetic, a heavy smoker, and quite an impressive drinker. But for a few years before I was born, her health had meant that she was often quite weak or poorly. Because of this, it was decided that it would be dangerous for her to have anymore children. She already had my brother and 2 sisters, from previous relationships before she met my father. The way that it was always told to me while growing up, was this:
The doctors said she wouldn't be able to get pregnant again.
Then they said even if she did, she wouldn't be able to carry them full term.
Finally they said, if she did get pregnant, and carry it full term, then she would almost certainly die giving birth.
I remember being told many times, the story of how I almost killed my mum when she gave birth to me. In fact, a week after my mum died, my nan kindly informed me that she begged my mum to have me aborted because they were convinced she would die. You ever get the feeling that things are against you right from the very start?
Anyway, my mum did get pregnant, she did carry me full term, but she didn't die during my arrival. It messed her up quite badly though. She was in the hospital for about 3 weeks after I was born.
On a side note, my first day out of the hospital, I'm being carried by my nan through the hospital car park, when my sister cuts in front of my nan and accidentally trips her. My nan went flying and I ended up in a hedge.
You ever get the feeling that things are against you as soon as you hit the car park?
My name, while growing up, was Jamie. For school and everything, it was Jamie. For some reason though, my mum called me Jenks. That name seemed to stick with my family and all except my nan and dad, called me Jenks. My dad insisted on calling me Jamie my entire life.
When I was born, my parents had decided on calling me Jamie. Yet for some reason, when the nurse came around to take my name for the birth certificate, my mum told her that my name was James. No harm right? James and Jamie are pretty much the same name, and you can flip back and forth between them. But for some reason, my dad didn't like the name James.
Fast forward to my early teens, and while going through a case of family photos, I find an envelope with "Baby James' grave" written on it. Inside were 2 polaroids of flowers on a small grave, with no headstone. I did ask my mum about it, but all she said was, "Please don't ever get rid of them".
Fast forward to me being 32 and with my mum dead, there is now no real way for me to find out who baby James was. I could ask my nan, but honestly, I've since learnt so much shit about my family, that I don't think I could cope with more secrets and lies. I'm fairly sure that I am who I think I am, and I wasn't some baby stolen from outside the corner shop, to replace poor baby James.
I just find it odd that my mum had photos of a grave, for a baby named James. A baby that I have never heard my family talk about. And I find it odd that we have the same name. And that my dad NEVER called me James.
It doesn't bother me. I just wonder sometimes.
My mum was not really in the best of health for most of her life. In my early years, I knew her as a diabetic, a heavy smoker, and quite an impressive drinker. But for a few years before I was born, her health had meant that she was often quite weak or poorly. Because of this, it was decided that it would be dangerous for her to have anymore children. She already had my brother and 2 sisters, from previous relationships before she met my father. The way that it was always told to me while growing up, was this:
The doctors said she wouldn't be able to get pregnant again.
Then they said even if she did, she wouldn't be able to carry them full term.
Finally they said, if she did get pregnant, and carry it full term, then she would almost certainly die giving birth.
I remember being told many times, the story of how I almost killed my mum when she gave birth to me. In fact, a week after my mum died, my nan kindly informed me that she begged my mum to have me aborted because they were convinced she would die. You ever get the feeling that things are against you right from the very start?
Anyway, my mum did get pregnant, she did carry me full term, but she didn't die during my arrival. It messed her up quite badly though. She was in the hospital for about 3 weeks after I was born.
On a side note, my first day out of the hospital, I'm being carried by my nan through the hospital car park, when my sister cuts in front of my nan and accidentally trips her. My nan went flying and I ended up in a hedge.
You ever get the feeling that things are against you as soon as you hit the car park?
My name, while growing up, was Jamie. For school and everything, it was Jamie. For some reason though, my mum called me Jenks. That name seemed to stick with my family and all except my nan and dad, called me Jenks. My dad insisted on calling me Jamie my entire life.
When I was born, my parents had decided on calling me Jamie. Yet for some reason, when the nurse came around to take my name for the birth certificate, my mum told her that my name was James. No harm right? James and Jamie are pretty much the same name, and you can flip back and forth between them. But for some reason, my dad didn't like the name James.
Fast forward to my early teens, and while going through a case of family photos, I find an envelope with "Baby James' grave" written on it. Inside were 2 polaroids of flowers on a small grave, with no headstone. I did ask my mum about it, but all she said was, "Please don't ever get rid of them".
Fast forward to me being 32 and with my mum dead, there is now no real way for me to find out who baby James was. I could ask my nan, but honestly, I've since learnt so much shit about my family, that I don't think I could cope with more secrets and lies. I'm fairly sure that I am who I think I am, and I wasn't some baby stolen from outside the corner shop, to replace poor baby James.
I just find it odd that my mum had photos of a grave, for a baby named James. A baby that I have never heard my family talk about. And I find it odd that we have the same name. And that my dad NEVER called me James.
It doesn't bother me. I just wonder sometimes.
Wednesday, 18 November 2009
150g
is the weight of the bar of chocolate sat in front of me.
I want something.
I alone can't obtain it though.
The worst type of failure is when you've done nothing wrong, but your best just isn't what's going to do it.
Because then that isn't a case of you making a mistake, or changing, or fixing something.
This cuts to the heart of you as a person.
I'm still going to try though.
Jan 2011 is the Best Before date on the bar of chocolate sat in front of me.
I want something.
I alone can't obtain it though.
The worst type of failure is when you've done nothing wrong, but your best just isn't what's going to do it.
Because then that isn't a case of you making a mistake, or changing, or fixing something.
This cuts to the heart of you as a person.
I'm still going to try though.
Jan 2011 is the Best Before date on the bar of chocolate sat in front of me.
Friday, 13 November 2009
Improv Friday Poem
Was gravity the killer
that day your rope died?
tragically cut short by my pocket knife
that always had it in for your rope.
We all saw it coming,
well, not you anyway.
unless you were suicidal?
But I never thought that of you.
I can't tell if you liked the ground
or if the ground liked you?
either way
you rushed to meet
on a bed of red.
Who would have thought though
That things would turn out that way?
That you'd survive the fall?
I'm still shocked to this day.
I'd have sworn that fall would have killed you
It did in my head
when I planned the trip that wednesday
I'd have put money on you being dead-
by thursday,
I did!
In fact
20 quid
I should have bet each way
Who could have seen this coming?
A vampire you say?
I should have guessed
They're all the rage
movies and books
all aimed at teenage-
audiences and goths
Well not for me
I'm a mountain climbing serial killer
and I know what I like
people that die when I ask them to
And not some star of Twilight.
that day your rope died?
tragically cut short by my pocket knife
that always had it in for your rope.
We all saw it coming,
well, not you anyway.
unless you were suicidal?
But I never thought that of you.
I can't tell if you liked the ground
or if the ground liked you?
either way
you rushed to meet
on a bed of red.
Who would have thought though
That things would turn out that way?
That you'd survive the fall?
I'm still shocked to this day.
I'd have sworn that fall would have killed you
It did in my head
when I planned the trip that wednesday
I'd have put money on you being dead-
by thursday,
I did!
In fact
20 quid
I should have bet each way
Who could have seen this coming?
A vampire you say?
I should have guessed
They're all the rage
movies and books
all aimed at teenage-
audiences and goths
Well not for me
I'm a mountain climbing serial killer
and I know what I like
people that die when I ask them to
And not some star of Twilight.
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