Weird dreams

That's what I've been having recently. It's bizarre. A couple of weekends ago I had just plain bloody scary nightmares, while last weekend I had two that were a little more odd.

Saturday night consisted of myself plotting to kill someone for a couple of weeks. No idea why or who. The climax came when I went to their house while it was dark. It was a grand house with a huge garden. I only managed to get through the gates when I inexplicably jumped into some long grass to wait for them to come back from somewhere. Not sure why I didn't head to the house itself though.

After a few minutes I think to myself 'I might get caught' and I immediately jump up and sneak off. Quite why that thought escaped me during my weeks of planning is clearly stupid. Then it got just plain strange as I sneaked into a hotel type flat complex thing. There are cleaners there who I try to avoid. One of them says for me to open the door to let the air come in. So I do. Then I go through several other doors and narrowly avoid a security guard. I duck into what I thought was a large concert hall type room but then when I turn around I realize it is not that at all. It is a large room, padded with tiles with lift-like doors on the straight wall to my left and a curved wall to my right. Steps lie on the far wall. Suddenly the lift doors open and I run for the steps on the far wall. After that everything is a blur.

The interesting thing for me is that the room I was just in actually looked fantastic. I didn't described it very well but I remember loving the look of it. And I thought of it in a dream. Badgertastic!

Of course, it could be a lingering memory of something that has been trapped in my mind for a long time. But I think more than likely it was a combination of other memories fused together to make something completely new. Shame I'm a crap drawer so I'll never be able to do it justice.

Anyway, Sunday night's dream was short and strange. I should point out before I go into it that I have been pondering stopping smoking recently. Well, slightly more than usual anyway. Not that I'm a big smoker but when I'm out drinking the beer orders me to smoke.

Anyway, to the dream: I had just found out that I only had a short time left to live. Terrible news but I didn't take it that badly. I shrugged and said to myself, 'well at least I can carry on smoking and not worry about it'.

What a worrying selection of dreams, eh? Clearly from a mind that is on it's last legs. Possibly, but I hope not. In real life, I'd prefer to give up smoking rather than die. Although, to be fair I shall probably do neither for the foreseeable future...

Done!

I am very happy for I have finished my website! Woohoo!

Well, when I say 'finished' I mean sort of nearly there. To be more precise, significant steps have been made such as the publication of the new design. Little bits still left to finish but I'll get there. Testing isn't complete either so I need to perhaps spend tweekend sorting this stuff out. Then I can finally rest. Phew. Well, not exactly; then I have to get on with the other website make-overs.

Not ideal but who's going to do it if I don't? Literally no-one.

We Are All Badgers

Well, it's been quiet as a badger on this blog for a good month. And it was a good month in fact. That's the problem; too many other preoccupations.

Let me subconcarate:

Seem to be busy every weekend for the past age with visitations and merriment. All good. All very good. But I'm not going to go into all that malarky. Also I've been redesigning WAAB which is taking fecking ages; largely because I don't have time to do it. When I do work on it then I get through a lot. It badly needs a bit of a shine and polish. Although, it won't look like a badger anymore.

Anyway, the badgers are calling me...

BCB

PS - Warning - I just made up the word subconcarate so please don't use it in general conversation otherwise you risk being called an idiot.

Nowt

No time to write nowt.

Titleless

I'm too busy to write anything.

Second Octopost

This one is a little sluggish however; very slow compared to the first Octopost. It think it's a direct result of the thousand and two things on the go at the mo. Even my new career as a shite artist is on hold.

And on tweekend I will be away and hence no time to cough up phlegm either.

I had an inclin that this might happen when I started this: time issues. There is always something else to do.

However, as long as I write 'I'm too busy to write anything' every couple of days then I'll be keeping this blog going. Albeit on a dull-as-buggery level that even I would not want to re-read.

Anyroad, the land of nod is calling me.

Octopost sighted

An Octopost was sighted earlier today in a quiet residential area of the North. Local residents were shocked to their very core. Some were disgusted at the mere sight of the creature; others were scared and ran away flapping their arms like girls.

There was one man however who stood firm in the presence of the Octopost. He did not judge it. He did not fear it. He cradled it in his strong arms, took it home and looked after the creature in it's short life on this earth.

This inspiring man is now a staunch campaigner for Octopost rights. He is armed only with knowledge and the will to succeed - to make people aware that Octoposts should not be feared or hated; instead they should be understood: they are delicate creatures with very short lives but they have the potential to bring joy to all who come into contact with them.

If you sight an Octopost in peril then please call this number now: 123456789.

The world is an uncaring place. Don't make it even worse by hating an Octopost.

...

...

Well, either that or I've just made my first October post.

Sheepgoat

A stupid woman was whinging to the camera about being a 'sheepgoat' for whatever she was whinging about. Of course she meant scapegoat. Made me laugh.

Reminds me of the chimera - the geep - part goat, part sheep that they made in the 90s. 'They' being scientists in America. Great word geep. Better than sheat. But not better than shat.

Badpus - a cross between a badger and a platypus. If only the world was that great.

No time to spit...

I'll try though: ok, maybe I do have time to spit but I don't have time to write this twaffle.

Blog and drawings have taken a step back recently due to trying to redesign my website. It's kindof going well - it just takes ages though. Also issues at home have taken up my time and thoughts which is a setback but one tries to be positive.

Also I am trying to go to the land of nod earlier to attempt to feel less shattered during the day. Makes sense. But there are just too many things to do!

Arrrrrrgggghhh!

Minor victories

The past few days were very good for minor victories. By that I mean the sort of thing that bugs you for a few days or a few weeks or in one case here, a few months; the sort of niggling 'what was the name of the person in that film' sort of thing.

The first minor victory occurred while watching Nighty Night tother night. The Welsh one was eating some crisps and said something along the lines of 'I love frazzles I do.' Reason I was happy is that I was trying to remember what the crispy bacon flavour corn snack was called. Ha! Now I do. Thank you, Julia Davies! And thank you me for watching it!

The second and more satisfying victory was when a newsreader including the word 'hyperbole' in his piece. Ha! I thought; I was sure that was the word that I forgot about six months or so ago to describe excessive exaggeration which is not meant to be taken literally e.g. 'i'm starving to death'. I immediately leapt up and grabbed my dic...

Sorry, distracted by a wasp there for a second.

...tionary. And bugger me sideways, it was right there in the dictionary as exactly what I thought it was. I was most pleased. Finally I have closure on this issue which has bugged me for fecking ages; can't remember exactly how long; mayhap six months or so. I was asking my mum if she remembered at all because I was whingeing about this to her way back then.

Anyway, it's such a good word that people should use it more. Although I must admit I rarely do due to lack of opportunity. However, I do think about it every single day now for fear of forgetting it once more and going through another six months of confusion and dribbling. On second thoughts that's got nothing to do with forgetting words...

Christ in a Bucket!

Kind of like a phrase of surprise like 'Christ on a Bike!' but as far as I know the former has not been used before! Hold on while I Google....

Christ in a bucket! There's loads of them! How bizarre. I thought I had invented a new 'Christ' phrase. Oh well, never mind; I'm sure I'll cope...

Anyway, the reason I mentioned it is because I was trying to remember where it came from. This might splurge out of my brain as I type but we'll see...

I definitely know that I was with my mate Stan in the Fantavo coffee bar in Prague train station. It's upstairs - look for the big green signs. The good thing about that place is the actual room it is in. It has a faded charm about it. And it has neat little phone boxes.

Anyway, we stumbled on the subject of religion as we often do; we have big issues about religion, but that's another story. For some reason we stumbled onto the subject of the body and blood of Christ; the concept of the stuff you get in church actually being the blood and body of Christ. It conjures up the image of Jesus being made of soggy rice paper, red wine dripping everywhere. He usually leaves a trail behind him. Our conversation went on to discuss the trials and tribulations that this would bring. These were some of our thoughts, at least what I remember:

We explained why this man had lots of followers as there would always be a crowd following behind him, licking the floor. Several brave souls would even lie on the floor underneath him and wait for the drops. As time went by they got increasingly more cheeky: they would also wring Jesus Christ's arm to get a little more wine out of it. This used to annoy Jesus as his arm would be a limp mess. The times he would have to squeeze his arm back into shape is no one's business.

Once a really hungry dog ran off with his leg whilst he was trying to relax in a park. It was both tiring and embarrassing to have to hop after the trouble-making hound. He finally caught up with the dog and managed to wrestle his leg back from it. He is still embarrassed to this day for smacking the poor dog with a big stick. These are the sort of things they don't mention in the Bible.

Unfortunately the dog had eaten a little of the leg so from that day onwards Jesus had one leg shorter than the other. Explains why he had a limp for most of his life.

The day he was crucified was not really an issue for Jesus. They nailed him to the cross but it did not hurt; they went straight through his rice-paper arms and legs. He'd done much worse trying to chop onions at home. He was always quick to start crying when chopping onions which really doesn't help with the hand-eye co-ordination.

Now to get to the point, I can't quite remember how Jesus Christ ended up in the bucket; it hasn't come to me whilst twoffling this down. I can only assume that several days on the cross in the baking heat would melt a rice-paper man straight into the bucket strategically placed underneath him.

'Christ in a bucket!' the onlookers would say. As I say, I can't quite remember.

I still find it bizarre that there are lots of occurrences of this on tinterweb. I'm shocked but also pleased as I thought it to be an excellent phrase. It's nice to know it is being used.

I apologise to anyone who has read this as I really don't know what I would remember from my conversation from about five weeks ago. I can hardly remember myself, so what hope does anyone else have? Anyway, the purpose of writing down this tale of oddness was so that I can read it in years to come, when I have all but forgotten it's quirks, and thusly I will remember it in glorious technicolour. This is what this blog is for in fact: so that I don't forget stuff. But clearly I need to write things down before I actually forget them. And only then can I safely forget them. Not the other way around as demonstrated here.

'Christ in a Bucket!'

That reminds me of another favourite 'swear phrase when angry' that I have been using recently when for instance my computer buggers up:

'Go fuck a horse.'

Try it. Next time your PC crashes.

'Go fuck a horse.'

Keeps me sane, anyway.

Bear in mind, however, that it's good to vary your 'swear phrase when angry'. So don't get bogged down with one phrase. Use it when it's fresh. But then move on. Don't worry though, you'll know when it's time to move on. We all do, deep down...

Cry Baby!

Made me laugh earlier today when I found out that there is a rugby player, the French Inside Centre in fact, called Mr Baby! Ha!

Or should I say Monsieur Baby.

It's the little things that keep you going.

It's a shame that Michalak was injured also as the headline was:

'Baby and Michalak blow for France.'

Bloody Michalak; 'Baby blow for France' sounds so much better.

Melon Farmer!

Just had to get this down before I forget:

Was watching some of the history of swearing on our screens; it profiled the cutting/dubbing of Alex Cox's Repo Man for TV. They replaced various fucking fuckers, and you fucking stupid fucker wankstain of a bastard etc... with lame substitutes.

This was the greatest gem:

"Fuck you, you mother fucker" was changed to "Flip you, you melon farmer".

Genius.

And in fact it's all deliberate. Alex Cox was asked to dub all the swear words and he did so by substituting them with the stupidest stuff he could think of.

As I said, Genius.

Most definitely not Listless

Notes on the humble 'To Do List':

Note the capital 'L' in List - befitting It's true status as a godly being - for They should be worshipped.

Actually the world would be a much safer place if we worshipped Lists instead of all the troublemakers we currently fawn to. Most Lists are temporal beings - they always evolve so it is unlikely that the argument 'my List is better than yours' will surface. Lists go through many phases of transition from the nice, neat start to nothing short of a mess if I'm honest. But that's the natural way of things; if you can manage to keep a tidy List then you are not really using the List properly.

Once true chaos on the List has been reached it's then rebirth time: reincarnation to another List! And the cycle continues...

Those list fans out there will know what I mean. Lists can get out of control which is a right pisser. At times like those then it's time for streamlining and centralisation - a rethink to the structure of your Lists; basically this means make a new, bigger List and throw all the others away. I normally have to cross things off before I can throw away the List; it signifies completion of task. I currently have approximately twelvety small Lists lying around on my table, waiting patiently to be combined. Subsectioning is required as there is alot of categories of things to do. I should really be sorting that out rather than writing this!

Duplication is also a problem. Write one task down on one list and then a day later you write it on another. Not very efficient I admit. But there are benefits: when List amalgamation is undertaken it can be very satisfying to be able to cross things out repeatedly due to the fact that they have already been completed from another List. While I wouldn't go as far as to say that they are the highlights of my day; but they are satisfying. Ahhhh.

My mate Bernard in work is a List man. I never thought he would be as he doesn't seem that type of person. But he was. And still is. He understood. He's a good lad.

Enough warbling about Lists... I really DO have to sort them out!

I just did something stoopid...

I got me pasty out of the fridge and placed on it on a plate for some 'microwave action'. I then put the said microwave on and started licking my lips like an expectant dog at meal time.

'Ping'

Up I jump! Open door of microwave and suddenly I am really confused - but only for a second - I havent put the damn thing in the microwave! What a nob-end. Makes me laugh how dumb I am though.

Reminds me of all the times I fill up the kettle and put it on it's base. And wait patiently for it to boil. 'Course, I keep forgetting to press the 'on' button. Many, many times. Not too worried about that but would start to debate whether I should consider euthanasia if I forget to put food in the microwave again. Even worse though would be leaving a supermarket and then realizing that one has forgotten to buy any food. Hey, we all do it.

Just listening to some Athlete - it's good. Download 'Wires' and unless you are stoopid and made of poo you should like it. I find it quite inspiring actually; I was feeling pretty low earlier but after a bit of 'Athlete action' I feel alot better. Although still pissed off that another weekend passes me by. It's not as though I sit on my fecking arse all day - I do things but I never have enough time to do all the random crap I want to. I get the feeling I'll be on my deathbed still obsessively clutching my 'list of things to do'. Ah, lists. I should mention lists - one of the greatest gifts granted to mankind. Just behind Brie, amended 'To Let' signs and the Sziget festival.

Anyway, that'll be tomorrow night's task. Let me put it on my list.

Dilema

My dilema is this: Should I the haircut or will I the Laundrette? Either way, you've got to have a system.

Hmm, also there is the supermarket; but it doesn't quite work if there are three things.

It's raining but it looks like nice rain. Might pop out shortly. I can't help thinking about table football. Damn, I need my mate Stan to get his arse down here for a round robin tournament between the two of us. Maybe then a knockout comp. Then a league. Then a winner-takes-all match at the end. Nice.

Czech inspiration

Whilst in Prague I proclaimed myself to be an Artist. Other people can be artists so why can't I be? So I am. I am an Artist. Woohoo!

That's not to say I am a good artist of course. In fact I think I am rubbish. But that's not the point. I am an Artist.

My friend proclaimed himself to be the same but I am not sure how much he feels it to be true.

I have done many odd and random things in my time which could be called art. Indeed, there is a lot of art out there which was not called art in the past. I have actually decided, or rather being drawn, to produce a collection of drawings. The content of which I shall explain at some point but for the moment I shall merely say that I hope to create something a little odd. That's the plan anyway. Actually I know exactly what I want to draw; in fact I imagined the scenes whilst away and ever since I have wanted to get my grubby little hands on a pen and paper to draw them. In my mind they are excellent. I just need to attempt to splurge them onto paper...

And lo and behold: I have drawn my first today. There are many flaws as expected but I take alot from it. The ideas are tightening up and taking form. The overall look I am pleased with. There are many avenues of improvement to take but this is expected. I will improve as I draw so this, for me, is a great start. Unless I don't improve of course and I shall continue at this level. If this is the case then I shall lose my motivation and stop my efforts. Either way, I need to get these urges to draw out of my system.

Even if they are good by my standards they won't be by most other people's. So it is very much a personal thing. Good or bad, it will be a personal journey to portray the disturbed contents of my mind. Good or bad.

Either way, I shall be an Artist.

The first of many...possibly

Well hello there me. This is me. Just writing to myself as I seem to get on with myself very well. In fact everything I say to myself interests myself. Well, nearly anyway: there was that time when I went on about nice shiny ovens for about half an hour or so. Damn boring bastard; what do I care about ovens? I ask you...

Anyway, to get to the point, I think this will serve as a, what's the word, um, forum I believe, for my thoughts. I have lots of random thoughts which I think are interesting to myself at least. But they keep getting lost in the ether. Drifting off like really light things cos no one is paying them any attention any more. Poor things. But no more! They shall be stapled down into blogspot and preserved for eternity. What an odd thought. Long after I past into the ground they shall remain of an extant nature. Unless the staple wounds kill them.

It's nearly my bedtime. Early night for a change. There have been lots of late nights lately due to the Sziget festival in Budapest. God-fecking festivaltastic! It was at that festival (or perhaps Prague beforehand) that it was decided that this would exist when I got back. And as a result of the hols, I have many things that I would like to document on this. On Bob. As I've just decided to call it. Bob is very nice blog. Very amenable.

Bob will serve me well. My backlog of thoughts that I would like not to ever disappear is about yay big (waves hands about randomly). This being the first day back from hols is a good start for me. Although I have a thousand of other things to do so who knows if this will continue on such prompt form. I certainly don't. Maybe Bob does, in his infinite genius. I'll ask him sometime.

I'd really like a curry now actually. But I can't as I'm going to bed. Bugger.