Monthly Archives: January 2004

Corporal Dave: I met Corporal


Corporal Dave: I met Corporal Dave doing Avionics at Aldershot in the Purple Turtle this evening. He was minding his drunken Mechanics coursemate who was being rude, offensive and downright bad towards most of the female population of the Turtle. Dave was from Aberdeen and a trainee Apache pilot. He seemed to be a genuinely good guy and I talked with him at length about life, my objection to the Army and the Hutton Report. I wished that he stayed safe. He said he was “gutted” that he couldn’t have my number and he was impressed with my gasmask bag. Comedy indeed.
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Benoit Rules! Well done to


Benoit Rules!

Hooray for The Crippler

Well done to the Rabid Wolverine. Finally he’s won something.
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As seen on Ain’t-It-Cool Talkback


As seen on Ain’t-It-Cool Talkback about the Golden Globes…

From: JHulkH
Subject: No love for Walken?
Comment: My only major gripe is that Christopher Walken doesn’t have his own special category, “BEST PERFORMANCE BY A CHRISTOPHER WALKEN.” He would sweep it every year, and then fuck our mothers to show us that he means business.

Well done to Ricky. Keeping the good name of Whitley alive. Charlize Theron won for portraying Aileen Wuornos, and although i’ve only seen the trailer, it looks darn good. Oh and why is it that I like looking at all the dresses? I know my stuff when it comes to fashion, make up etc but I either refuse to cake myself in slap or dress like a mess. Mind you, i don’t have $10, 000 to spend on a dress. Kiefer looked most good in his suit :) Best: SJP, Uma, Cate, Tom, Charlize, Scarlet, Jennifer Garner, Renee, Nicole. Sadly Elijah looked slightly crap in his green suit, but he himself was still good.

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So tired today. Feeling blue


So tired today. Feeling blue ‘cos of work, art, artwork. Pissed off with myself for being so frickin’ lazy. I need a day to sleep and feel better but now I don’t have any time. All this leads to me thinking, and when I start doing that I feel fed up. Summer and it’s associated abandonment is approaching so fast. My circle of friends seems to be dwindling as I get older; now it resembles a knot. I know people have to move on and do new and exciting things for themselves but inside i still feel like i’m being abandoned. Stood up for a date with the cheerleader. I don’t have a particularly positive view of my future so maybe that’s why I feel like i’m being dumped.

A voice of reason says to me “Don’t worry, you’ll make new friends” just as it says “Someone will love you one day“. You see, this is the evil voice of Hope which slips sliver tongued with all its promises and excitement into my thoughts and dreams. I like the friends i’ve got already Thank You and I don’t particularly want to lose them or have to trade them in. I think I should start detatching myself from them all. If I put some distance between them then maybe it won’t hurt so very much. Then I realise that I can’t do that, because I care and I consider myself a good person who’s there for people. A little bitchy sometimes, but then hey, who isn’t?

Joy of joys Valentine’s Day is approaching. Did you know amongst others Saint Valentine is the patron saint of greetings card manufacturers? I kid you not. Just that is enough for me to loathe the day. Valentines Day is up there with my hatred of New Years Eve, and the reaons I dislike it so are fairly similar. Let me count the ways…

  • Pressure: Commercial, Parental and Peer
  • Feelings of failure generated by the above
  • “Why not me? What’s wrong with me?” On seeing icky, smug couples, in poor relationships (who – I consider inferior to me, and they are, obviously)
  • Past history / expecations
  • No one to give to
  • Loneliness
  • Hope
Half of something is better than all of nothing: This site is great: not pretty. I can empathise with a lot of it. There are some events that not even whiney old me can compete with, rudeness I have not experienced. Give it time.

I think my personal saints should be Rita of Cascia who patronises against loneliness, bodily ills, desperate, forgotten and lost causes and… wounds. Or Dymphna whose patronage includes insanity, mental disorders, illness, and mentally ill people; nervous and neurological disorders and family happiness (I suppose that’s associated with the insanity). She also is patron saint of princesses, but I don’t think i’ll be needing help for that. If I meet a princess in a crisis i’ll recommend her.

The thing is, much as I despise VD AKA Singles Awareness Day, I would dearly love to send a card/whatever to someone and not feel like a complete failure/fool. Something that would make me far too happy is to receive one, and I don’t mean the one from your Mum or whatever. One that is sincere and I can believe in, not just because of pity or for a “laugh”. I have many ideas of cool things to send and do but I have no one to share with. I wouldn’t send things just on VD either. I can’t afford to shower my love with gifts, but little things here and there outside of the commerical snowstorm are important to me to show i care.

{fray} How can I be both bitter and romantic at the same time?
The Alt.Suicide.Holiday Valentine’s Day Survival Kit
Valentine’s Day Can Bite Me
Heartless Bitches International

“Mom, romance is dead. It was acquired in a hostile takeover by Hallmark and Disney, homogenized, and sold off piece by piece.”
— Lisa Simpson

The 14th is also Eleanor’s birthday. When i’m busy feeling self-absorbed, bitter and sad I remember her. I feel guilty for not remembering her first and VD second. I guess i’ve had years of punctured hopes so she sadly comes second. There’s a bit of distance now since her death, so I can look at it perhaps a little more dispassionately and with more thought; to separate from the grief and guilt I felt at the time. SO much was going on back then. This is not to say I still don’t feel those things, and that I don’t remember her.

Last week I sat through a piece on some reality tv show (called “Rail Cops” or some such crap) that showed police literally picking up the pieces of someone who had gone under a train, a “one under” as they call it. I was okay for most of it and I didn’t find it distressing in a “I’m imagining Eleanor strewn” type way but I got upset because I felt it was so fucking tasteless. HOW can they show such a personal, private thing on television? I know there’s a morbid fascination and I admit to sharing that but I just thought “What the fuck?” I had to ask “Please can we not watch this”.

I know the person who is shredded into many varied pieces is essentially just a shell but I remember the look on the face of Eleanor’s younger brother as he struggled to keep going. I am of the opinion that there are some people who are just going to die earlier than nature and quality of life standards suggest and that it’s just going to happen. Medication, therapy may steer some people away from the edge but others will continue to teeter on the edge no matter what, until a slight breeze upsets their balance and pushes them over. This doesn’t make any of it any easier, and I would try my utmost to help anyone who is sliding towards the drop.

I apologise for the rant, been doing a lot of that recently. Best go to bed to get some sleep before work in 4 hours. Then art work intensive after that. *sigh*
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Oooh Oooh: Jersey Girl For


Oooh Oooh: Jersey Girl

For those of you who don’t know what i’m getting fussed over, it’s the new film from Kevin Smith. From the looks of the trailer it doesn’t look too bad, and J Lo appears for only a very short time (hooray). Jersey Girl looks to be more in the mould of a Chasing Amy perhaps, more serious; no Snoochie Boochies here.
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I’ve created a new Photographs


I’ve created a new Photographs section using a separate programme to archive and display the images. The old photos will still be there at their old location (accessible from the home page) but the new Gallery section has more variety and it’s more functional, too. This is because I didn’t have to do any html :) Communal photos are a possibility too, just let me know.

nopokemeo :: gallery
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“You don’t need a couple


“You don’t need a couple of Whoppers. You are too fat. Pull ahead.”

BBC News: Hackers heckle drive-in diners

And on a perhaps related note: Rectal Foreign Bodies
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Wow I have invented the


Wow I have invented the greatest Punk Rock band name ever: The Pruned Dumbasses. So good! Courtesy of Davezilla. Fill in all the details. I had to look up some of them of Google so do not feel ashamed. I demonstrated a shameful knowledge of grammar first.

“One thing’s for certain General; it’s not human. It appears to be part monky and part broom.” exclaimed the Top Scientist.

[Weapons bounce harmlessly off the creature.]

“The bullets have no effect!” said the General. “Try the sonic starves. Set weapons to dumbasses. I’ll have to go into its lair alone. I’ll need some light. You there. Give me your monky.”

[The General calls back on his walkie-talkie.]

“The creature seems to understand me. We’ve been communicating telepathically using our broom. Team? It’s leaving the cave. Go for its goldie barnford. That’s its vulnerable spot.”
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Hooray I am finally back


Hooray I am finally back in the original nest. You didn’t know I was gone? Well, I had operation #3 on the 2nd January and for want of anyone to look after me was removed against my will by the Parents. The op went better than before. No packing, no vomiting, very little post-operative pain. And even my PiC turned up to be there for me. Shocking I agree.

Apparently I was very amusing when I came out from recovery. I was talking complete shite due to my mind being messed up from the anaesthetic but I struggled on with conversations anyway. I would start talking to PiC and then forget what the hell I was talking about halfway through, so to me his very patient answers were like surrealist spoutings. Even though I was totally wonky I was more concerend with whether PiC had enough Buttons and drinks to keep him occupied.

“Would you like any more Buttons and drinks and things here I will get you some… Oops”
“No Monky stay in the bed! I’m okay I don’t need any… (patient sigh)”

Anyway, I am back to my messy room. Up north is okay, it’s just I have no friends there and there is no cinema and not the selection of shops that Reading has. I couldn’t go out anyway as I am banned from crowded, smokey places for 10 days following discharge. I do get to escape from work for another week and stay away from Art. I really need to go into art as I have fucked it all up and desperately need to do work, except I can’t at the moment. Frustrating grrr.

When I was on the bus today I saw a Muntjac deer grazing in the graveyard at Cemetary Junction. It was cool. I’ve seen it before but I thought that was just one of those standard hallucinations I have. I should go for a wander around there I think and bring my camera. It looks like a very pretty graveyard, a good combination of old, natural, Victorian gravestones and nasty, shiny, granite moderns.
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Today I watched Sense and


Today I watched Sense and Sensibility again. Oh, how sad that film is. I just can’t help but torture myself and watch it repeatedly. Weep inducing it may be- I can empathise with all of it, except maybe with the happy ending. That is just pure fantasy.

Sonnet CXVI.

LET me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love ’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error, and upon me prov’d,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.
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“Have you ever been on


“Have you ever been on a date? You know, its unnacceptable that you don’t have a boyfriend. I want some improvement. In 6 months from now you should have one”

My Mother to me last night whilst watching Sex and the City
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Thinking more about it, here


Thinking more about it, here is a list of New Year’s resolutions that I really should make and keep….

But that I won’t

1. Be on time for things
2. Work harder
3. Keep room tidy(er), car clean(er)
4. Do not dwell on the past so much
5. Wash more clothes, sheets and dishes and more frequently
6. Don’t stay up so late then sleep all day
7. Don’t let emotional blackmail get to me
8. Remember that I do not need others to give me self worth
9. Read more books covering wider subjects and genres
10. Remember that sex and flirting do not equal love and do not give or increase value

I could make more but I think I’ve gone on enough already.
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Happy New Year. I spent


Happy New Year. I spent the evening drinking wine and eating chocolate buttons with Patrick. I was feeling very unhappy earlier in the evening with mucho weeping but by the time midnight actually arrived I was feeling a little better. There was a really good display of neighbourhood unity outside my window with the sky being filled with beautiful fireworks. Some were getting a bit too close for comfort but it was a very pretty sight.

Resolutions? None. I have far too little will power to even cease biting my fingernails. There are lots of possible targets of course, but the only thing I can guarentee is that I will break them.

I think i’m going to start a nice little sub section of the site. A library of melacholia. Fun, no? I just come across lots of kind of sad stuff that i’d like to archive, mainly song lyrics. I know it’s very teenage angst but music is incredibly important to me and the lyrics are too. Just stuff i’ll play when i’m tired of life or pissed off or drunken, you know, the usual. I don’t know why archive it, I like morbidly browsing i suppose.
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