30 August, 2006
Comedian calls for 'mass lone demonstration'
Good luck, and good humour to all attending tomorrow.
Anyone want to place a bet at what time this will go down for technical reasons?
My money is on around 3pm. ¶ Wednesday, August 30, 2006 0 Comments
Anyone want to place a bet at what time this will go down for technical reasons?
My money is on around 3pm. ¶ Wednesday, August 30, 2006 0 Comments
28 August, 2006
We Want Your Soul
Too hectic?
repeat after me Your Cash, Your House, Your Phone, Your Life, Your Cash, Your House, Your Life
Hang on. That's rave music.
Some one call The Police.
"Go back to bed, UK subjects. Your government has figured out how it all transpired. Go back to bed, UK subjects. Your government is in control again. Here. Here's American Gladiators. Watch this, shut up. Go back to bed, UK subjects. Here is American Gladiators. Here is 56 channels of it! Watch these pituitary retards bang their fucking skulls together and congratulate you on living in the land of freedom. Here you go, UK! You are free to do what we tell you! You are free to do what we tell you!"
Oh and let's not forget this ¶ Monday, August 28, 2006 0 Comments
Too hectic?
repeat after me Your Cash, Your House, Your Phone, Your Life, Your Cash, Your House, Your Life
Hang on. That's rave music.
Some one call The Police.
"Go back to bed, UK subjects. Your government has figured out how it all transpired. Go back to bed, UK subjects. Your government is in control again. Here. Here's American Gladiators. Watch this, shut up. Go back to bed, UK subjects. Here is American Gladiators. Here is 56 channels of it! Watch these pituitary retards bang their fucking skulls together and congratulate you on living in the land of freedom. Here you go, UK! You are free to do what we tell you! You are free to do what we tell you!"
Oh and let's not forget this ¶ Monday, August 28, 2006 0 Comments
23 August, 2006
Pandora's never-ending jukebox
This is bloody great.
Throw a few of your favourite artists into the mix and then sit back and listen to lots and lots of great music that you've never heard before.
Sadly if if you want to register to use it then you must have a US ZIP CODE *cough*
Hats off to Auntie Beeb - Currently playing MESSAGE IN A BEER BOTTLE BY SCREECHING WEASEL on RADIO POONS ¶ Wednesday, August 23, 2006 0 Comments
Throw a few of your favourite artists into the mix and then sit back and listen to lots and lots of great music that you've never heard before.
Sadly if if you want to register to use it then you must have a US ZIP CODE *cough*
Hats off to Auntie Beeb - Currently playing MESSAGE IN A BEER BOTTLE BY SCREECHING WEASEL on RADIO POONS ¶ Wednesday, August 23, 2006 0 Comments
14 August, 2006
Bloody Marvellous
What a glorius day! It's my birthday and also the first of ten whole days with no real work to do, apart from a bit of computing support here and there. The weekend brings the downright splendidnous that is Beautiful Days, then off to Bournemouth to catch up with an old boss topped off with a couple of nights in London again catching up with friends.
¶ Monday, August 14, 2006 0 Comments
13 August, 2006
George Galloway Savages SKY NEWS!
""
I doubt he'll be asked back in a hurry.
Heads up is via this, and whilst I agree that George is a difficult man to countenance, I can't help but love him every time he pulls one of these performances. He speaks too much truth, and I fear that one day that will catch up with him.
Edit: And then Rachel sums it up. ¶ Sunday, August 13, 2006 0 Comments
I doubt he'll be asked back in a hurry.
Heads up is via this, and whilst I agree that George is a difficult man to countenance, I can't help but love him every time he pulls one of these performances. He speaks too much truth, and I fear that one day that will catch up with him.
Edit: And then Rachel sums it up. ¶ Sunday, August 13, 2006 0 Comments
12 August, 2006
02 August, 2006
Anniversaries
They come around with startling regularity.
This time last year I was laying in a hospital bed, on the wrong end of a long history of alcohol abuse and with an "heroic" quantity of paracetamol coursing through my digestive and blood system.
It was a classic cry for help scenario, and but for the grace of NHS personnel here go I.
It was also a particularly cold and calulated scenario that I undertook, buying beer and tablets from many venues across town before stuffing 8 or 9 cans of 9% lager and approx. 98 pills down my throat before calmly walking back up the river bank to the bridge and calling an ambulance. I'd already checked that unless I lay prone at the river bank then that amount of pills would not kill me, though perhaps going for a swim at one point was bordering on the *not a very good idea* area of life preservation.
Lasting memories of the day include the despatcher asking me whether I was likely to be violent to the ambulance crew. I laughed and ensured them I would be more likely to pass out. I was highly embarrassed when they switched on the "blues and twos" to ferry me to safety, and I think that was the moment I realised what a complete and utter dick I had been.
Then there was the guy who administered the dose of something that "may make me feel a bit queasy". He lied. I have never vomited like that before or thankfully since, and I never intend to again.
There was the converation with the ward sister (after I had been moved from A&E) who I told that I still had some beer in my bag. I said "I guess you're going to take that off me?" She said, "Not unless you want me to". This spun me out, so when I said "Yes, please" and she asked me if she wanted me to destroy them, I was even more phased. I of course said "Yes", and after a brief stay on the ward I walked out a free man, and so totally detoxicated that far too many people (many who do not know the full story until they read this) commented on how healthy I was looking.
So 12 months on, the "beast" is tamed, totally for quite some time, and now is allowed out with a muzzle.
Over those 12 months I was again embarassed by the concern that people showed and how happy they were that my drinking was in check. I didn't react that well to said concern, I've never been that good at that sort of stuff but I'd like to say thank you to all those who expressed that concern, and all those who made me realise that I was loved so much. It really did help.
I no longer feel the urge to get totally pissed every night, and in some ways I'm glad what I did. I still feel supreme guilt at the NHS resources I wasted, the stress that I put my closest friends under, and the fact that I was so weak in spirit to just do something by myself, but one year on I have plans forming in my mind that don't involve me drinking myself to death, and that can only be a good thing. I hope.
---
Edit: Thanks to the link from Tom I learnt a new word - parasuicide ¶ Wednesday, August 02, 2006 0 Comments
This time last year I was laying in a hospital bed, on the wrong end of a long history of alcohol abuse and with an "heroic" quantity of paracetamol coursing through my digestive and blood system.
It was a classic cry for help scenario, and but for the grace of NHS personnel here go I.
It was also a particularly cold and calulated scenario that I undertook, buying beer and tablets from many venues across town before stuffing 8 or 9 cans of 9% lager and approx. 98 pills down my throat before calmly walking back up the river bank to the bridge and calling an ambulance. I'd already checked that unless I lay prone at the river bank then that amount of pills would not kill me, though perhaps going for a swim at one point was bordering on the *not a very good idea* area of life preservation.
Lasting memories of the day include the despatcher asking me whether I was likely to be violent to the ambulance crew. I laughed and ensured them I would be more likely to pass out. I was highly embarrassed when they switched on the "blues and twos" to ferry me to safety, and I think that was the moment I realised what a complete and utter dick I had been.
Then there was the guy who administered the dose of something that "may make me feel a bit queasy". He lied. I have never vomited like that before or thankfully since, and I never intend to again.
There was the converation with the ward sister (after I had been moved from A&E) who I told that I still had some beer in my bag. I said "I guess you're going to take that off me?" She said, "Not unless you want me to". This spun me out, so when I said "Yes, please" and she asked me if she wanted me to destroy them, I was even more phased. I of course said "Yes", and after a brief stay on the ward I walked out a free man, and so totally detoxicated that far too many people (many who do not know the full story until they read this) commented on how healthy I was looking.
So 12 months on, the "beast" is tamed, totally for quite some time, and now is allowed out with a muzzle.
Over those 12 months I was again embarassed by the concern that people showed and how happy they were that my drinking was in check. I didn't react that well to said concern, I've never been that good at that sort of stuff but I'd like to say thank you to all those who expressed that concern, and all those who made me realise that I was loved so much. It really did help.
I no longer feel the urge to get totally pissed every night, and in some ways I'm glad what I did. I still feel supreme guilt at the NHS resources I wasted, the stress that I put my closest friends under, and the fact that I was so weak in spirit to just do something by myself, but one year on I have plans forming in my mind that don't involve me drinking myself to death, and that can only be a good thing. I hope.
---
Edit: Thanks to the link from Tom I learnt a new word - parasuicide ¶ Wednesday, August 02, 2006 0 Comments
