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MMoM

3 Jun

Whilst I am still very much mellowing in my melancholy moment of madness I have decided to find something to make me smile. A quick google search for “funny email correspondence” brought me to this result. Now, instead of making me laugh it brought forth the feeling’s I consistently have about “people” as a whole. Slightly ignorant, racist and of course cocky, some think they are funny. Others direct their stupidity towards those, whose only concern is to try and help resolve the situation.

In the link we see an email directed towards a police station in the UK. The complaint being that it is very difficult to get through to someone on the phone and the complainee, let’s call him fuckwad to keep his privacy and well being at their uttermost. So Mr Fuckwad decides to email a police station to complain that a bunch of kids or teenagers are playing ball against a fence outside his home. He describes the youths as “walking abortions” and you can already tell he’s the kind of old, grumpy, self serving, self centered, unrealistic, stuck up twat that writes to his local newspaper on a weekly basis to discuss the decline of this country. He probably fought in a war that ended 10 years before he was born, and his sister is friends with the queen.

After a lengthy rant about a simple matter he ends with what can only be considered a rude and peremptory closing of the email.

Here’s where I’ll quote you the professional and polite, also helpful email from his local PC.

“Mr Fuckwad,

I have read your e-mail and understand your frustration at the problems caused by youth playing in the area and the problems you have encountered in trying to contact the police.

As the Community Beat Officer for your street I would like to extend an offer of discussing the matter fully with you.

Should you wish to discuss the matter, please provide contact details (address / telephone number) and when may be suitable.

Regards

PC ???

?????????????

Community Beat Officer”

Let’s dissect the email. First line, a polite greeting to Mr Fuckwad. The hero of this particular story.  The second line and indeed first paragraph begins and ends nicely clearly underlining the issues that were raised in the original complaint and reiterating that the responding PC has taken the trouble to read the dribble coming from Mr F’s mouth as he salivates onto his computer keyboard whilst touching his sister. Ok that bit didn’t happen but he might as well be some inbred hick by the pleasure he takes at his inconsistent and obtuse email where he is clearly attempting some form of humorous writing.
The second paragraph in the response introduces the respondent as the local PCSO. Ok so the email is being responded to by the correct person, someone who understands the complaint and also understands the area and the person he is responding to. Our responding PCSO finishes by simply offering to contact the emailing Mr Fuckwad at a convenient time via the telephone to arrange a face to face meeting where they can discuss the matters that have been brought up and hopefully resolve the issues satisfactory.
So, instead of acknowledging the very polite response and arranging a suitable time to have a much closer and personal resolution to the initial, very minor issue. Mr Fuckwad decides that he is too clever for this simple PCSO and will respond with scorn and sarcasm. I wonder why he has such a bad life and consistently fails to achieve. Karma’s a bitch.

P.s I’m lying in bed typing this by candle light whilst drinking chocolate horlicks. It seems to be a killer equation and only time will tell if it has any exceptions.

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Naked Wireless

22 Apr

I recently brought a Bluetooth headset for my IPod and as is only natural have taken every opportunity to walk around my flat naked wearing only my headset listening to some nice misc. Very nice.

There’s no real purpose or thought behind this post really. I’m sitting on the train and feel the need to write. I#’m slightly scared of the swan song….
Writing my last entry without realising would be even worse. But Im happy and relaxed and for once my mind is not running in circles constantly. 2 goals, both achievable. 1 love. Very nice 🙂

Now for the running commentary –

Hopefull a fat person won’t sit next to me…..

6:57 – Sidcup station, large man, pink shirt. Fuck! Terhe’s a gap between us but if some fatty sits down next I’ll be stuck between a wall and a fat person.
Music – Jack Johnson

07:00 – New Eltham Station. Skinny lady, beige coat, metro. Some lttle boy on the front – apparently a 12 year old kiler. What a little bastard!!!. I’m slightly nervous at how close people are, that they could read this. I need some kind of “Don’t look at my screen” shield.
Music – Dirty Pretty Things

07:03 – Mottingham Station. I’m safe. All the seats in my area are taken up but I’m snnoyed that I managed to pick a seat in front of the old lady who would drop coffee by my feet.
Music – Dirty Pretty Things

07:05 – Lee Station. I’ve just realised this train stops more frequently than busses how do I manage to ever get to work on time.
Music – Linkin Park

07:06 – I’m bored of this commentary, going to read.

The urgency of the beast

4 Apr

Rushing too, and from – the beast brings to the fore our urgency to obey the strictest of rules, the schedule and the time.

To respect the awesome power and strength, wrought in iron, steel and steam. Electricity coursing through the veins giving this creation life.
Much like the story of frankensteins monster. This is our creation.
Society’s monster, a monstrous engine – with bolts in its head and electricity to power its brain. But unlike Frankensteins monster – over the centuries we have clearly perfected the science of creation.

It does beg the question though. Why are we so urgent to get to or from the train. Is it the size? or the urgency of a meeting. To get home maybe?

Whatever the cause. I am bemused constantly when walking through stations that everybody is rushing. Like little hobgoblins – bringing gold to the beast, in the hopes of not getting burnt alive, burnt maybe to a crisp and devoured by the metaphorical dragon. Bring back the steam engine and watch as the dragon snorts the flame. The smoke rising from the belly of the beast.

Take away the rails and let this awesome creation of science, fiction and imagination roam free across the lands, give back its leather wings and remove its leather seats for surely a creature of this might should not be shackled to its tracks – driven by one small man – up and down the tracks. Life never taking any direction.

Take heed of these words – know that when, and it will happen. When the beast breaks free I hope your urgency to retreat from or enter it’s domain has taken you to a place of safety. For when the beast is free it shall roam and the lands will burn in revolution. One freed will after a time, release it’s fellows. If you go to the COOP for a loaf of bread beware that you may be stalked as prey by the trains.

Evolution and natural selection will leave only the strongest to survive and breed – to change and take over a world we think we rule. Opposable thumbs our only concession in the battle for control.

Listen here, you have been warned!

A Story about A Man, and A Tie

3 Mar

I get the feeling that I have written about this before but here goes again. The strangest moment I think I have ever felt, or at least one of them – Life is mightily strange after all.

Exiting the LLU (London Underground) i.e Tube. Looking up, on the stairs. A man. Wearing a tie.

Nothing odd, fascinating or indeed interesting in that. Men wear ties? Men travel on the Tube. What are the chances of a man, wearing a tie, being on the tube, at the same time as me!!! Shock! Horror!

I look down. Guy, Me, Tie. Again, I look up.

Our eyes meet across the crowded stairwell and suddenly it clicks. We are both wearing the same tie – we exchange hand signals. International sign language to say  “OMG, Snap!” well at least I did, his eyes said something different “OMG, Uno!” but he was on his own, where as I always have a companion in my head to talk to.

I can only imagine the thoughts that went through his head. But at this moment I am reminded of the curiosity of the moment. A once in a life time experience that both excites and confuses you. This is not meant to happen. The only thing that can come close to this moment is for a woman – walking into a party to see her friend wearing the same dress! Its unthinkable. Especially when I don’t normally wear ties. Life really is strange to throw you into these moments.

I really do wonder what he was thinking, its difficult enough to explain my own emotions. If I didn’t have any self control my mouth would be open, tongue swelling out, saliva dripping down my chest like some snail-trail. Ending part way towards my package and looking like a severe case of Premature ejaculation. Luckily this didn’t happen.

I like post’s where I can add “Sex” words as a tag. It’s always a nice chance to get the pervy gits to check out your blog. Boner on the way and then, sudden disappointment as they scroll down looking for naked girls. I don’t have any pictures of naked girls on my blog. But if you want me to get some Ill happily oblige. 😀

One Tie poem (Clearly stolen):

One Tie to rule them all, One Tie to find them,
One Tie to bring them all and in the darkness bind them

Update: @Girlslashwoman

Some people are never happy – everyone wants the full glory, dirty secrets and details. Another sex tag I think “Kinky tie?” – The tie as far as I remember was unfortunately very boring and plain so I’m now going to lie, I mean bend the truth and give you – SUPER TIE.

The tie I was wearing, some of you might of already seen. It’s hard to miss. I never knew the rainbow had more then 7 visible colurs but according to the lable on this tie, it could “bend the rules of physics, light and all that tosh”, honestly. I wouldn’t lie. The tie is actually one of a set – all based in different and colliding dimentions to make you look the sexiest possible where ever you are. Of course ties are clearly sexy! (New Tag) but this one could produce its own pheromones, making women weak at the knees just catching a reflection of it in a puddle. Oddly enough, it was a christmas present….from my mum.

Let there be love Part 2

25 Feb

Another part to the Let there be love series – Again, spelling mistakes and all in its former glory:

*Please note this file contains only fictional events and characters. Any relevance to a living/or dead person and any situation they may have/or will be involved in is purely coincidental*

This is what day dreaming does to you…… (Part 2)

Previously…… Mrs Bonar had a change of heart and became a rock star along with Mr Shipley, and Mr Lloyd. Together they formed “The Teachers” and started a revolution.

It had been a long day and Mr Hufford was just off to take his post 16 maths class.

“Why does it always rain on me” he thought while humming the Eastenders theme tune. It was not often he felt this happy, it most of been that nice Jehova’s witness lady he had invited in for a cup of tea last night.

****** Over in the science block *****

“Is It because I lied when I was 17…?” Wondered Mr Bellamy, as he wandered around school aimlessly hoping against all to catch a pupil roaming the corridors he heard a faint wisper from near reception…..Dum dum dum dum dum , dum dum, it went.

Picking up his pace he neared the source of disturbance and jumped around the corner.

“Aha” he shouted “Caught you out of class…” He drifted off with the realisation

“Mr Bellamy how may I help you at this late hour of the day?” He didn’t seem to pleased anymore.

“I er…well you see…it’s a bit like this you see….well..I…er”

“Spit it out man, we all have places to be”

“I heard a sort of humming sir and thought it might be a student out of class”

“No you fool it was me.” he definetly wern’t happy now. “Gosh can’t a tyrant get some peace round here”

He stormed of humming

“Somewhere over the rainbow”

“Way up high”

“Who said that”

“Who said that”

As our characters argued over who started it and who broke the toy train set they suddenly realised a horrible fact.

“Lets do it” they both agreed. Over in the canteen something strange was going on,

food was on the boil and one of the Dinner Ladies was dragging in another carcass to call the healthy option.

“what it came out the ground right”

As the steam rose all around them they felt perculiar….is it just me or can you see where this story is going.

Anyway as I was saying….

Steam rose around the Dinner ladies and without warning they burst into song “Why does it always rain on me?, even when the sun is shining, I can’t avoid the lightning”

*cue stage effects* and….In slid Mr Hufford on his knees closely followed by Mr Bellamy

“Night fever, Night fever” they screamed, while frantically trying to pull their disco skates on. Lights started flickering everywhere and on top of the table Mr Bellamy had found a turn table.

“Wicked!” he shouted as he began to scratch away

“we know how to do it” Chourused the Dinner Ladies as they stepped into line behind Mr Hufford.

“I’d like to dedicate this next song to Alex Towler who’s seen me throught all the hard times of my life, the only one that ever supported me, My manager.”

The Dinner Ladies feet began to tap. Slowly they turned their backs and with a flick of a wrist they changed..Mr Hufford had replaced his skates for a pair of converses, and his everyday shirt was now a brightly coloured mish-mash of crap, don’t even go into the parachute pants.

Chicka Chicka went Mr Bellamy’s turn table as he began to spin his tunes, cupping his hand over his mouth the beat was started.

“Yo” Shouted Hufford with sudden enfusiasmn, Windows shattered,

“Can’t touch this” He began,

Der der der dum went Mr Bellamy as the Dinner Ladies began to dance grabbing a chair each they moved into their favourite position, the beat went on and Hufford was in full stride rapping away like there’s no tommorow.

“A suped up homeboy from the Oaktown, and I’m known as such”

Hip-Hop had found its way into Huffords heart and nothing was getting it out of him. Not even the Jehova’s witness lady.

The school found it was now down 4 teachers and 1 headmaster. Something had to be done to stop this madness. Music was invading…………

Alex Towler

http://www.towler.tk

Fat People and Train Seats

20 Feb

Now I don’t mean to be rude. But when I’m sitting on a train, reading my paper or my book – Maybe listening to my MP3 Player just minding my own business. So now anyone that travels on public transport knows that it’s difficult to get a seat at the best of times. So I love it when I actually find a seat and plot up, cosy my head in my hood and nap until I get home.

So, when a Fat person sits next to me I get really upset.

2 reasons really – the seats are small and hard to get. It’s for this reason that I hate it when a fat person literally wedge’s themselves between me and another person – practically forcing my off my seat and onto the floor. I mean come on – “Did you pay for two seats you fat bastard? What? No? – then move the fuck over or loose some weight!” “Stop killing your heart with grease and donuts!” “Stop growing so many folds of fat that you constantly sweat – so much so that you are soaked and lubed up enough to slide into a seat half your size without even a grunt.

I wouldn’t mind a fat git having two seats if they pay for them! – Here’s a novel idea – Ban fat people on trains, make them walk. They will lose the weight and then can come back on the trains.

Rant over

Ode to Britney, Pubity and Porn

15 Feb

I used to LOVE Britney Spears – I was about 12. There was something about her, the faux rock based music. The fact that all her song’s sound the same meant I could listen to the whole album continuously and not even realise. Of course being hot helped – Obviously this was way before she cut all off her hair. I’m sorry Britney – I jest. But really you were my first introduction to pubity and I thank you, soft core porn that you provided. Sat up on my wall looking down – I prayed to you every night, you were my God. Ok it was mainly for things like chocolate dipping sauce, thongs and all sorts of nasty sex toys, but I pray I did. I wanted you, I needed you, I loved you. Knowing you  looked down on me from on high. The power of bluetack kept you above me whilst I slept, the first thing I saw in the morning and the last thing at night. So this is too you Britney, with Love x

This is a story about a boy named Alex…

Early morning
He wakes up
With a knock, knock, knock on the door

It’s time wake up to,
Her perfect smile
It’s you he’s waiting for.

Isn’t she lovely
This Hollywood girl

And he says,
she’s so lucky, she’s a star
But why cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart, thinking
If there is nothing missing in her life
Then why do these tears come at night.

Lost in her image, crazy dream
But there’s no one there to wake her up!
And the world is spinning, and she keeps on winning
But tell me what happens when it stops?
And they go,
“Isn’t she crazy, this Hollywood girl?”

And he say she’s so crazy, but sexy star
But she cut, cuts,  and shave her hair
I think theres someting missing in her life
She’ll sit and cry cry cry at night

Ay-ay-yeah-eh-eh-yeah

“Best actress, and the winner is…Britney!”

Ay-ay-yeah-eh-eh-yeah

“I’m Alex Towler for Crystal News standing outside the arena waiting for Britney”
“Oh my god…here she comes!”

Isn’t she lucky, this Hollywood girl?

She is so lucky
But why does she cry?
If there’s nothing
missing in her life
Why do your tears come at night