The new home for Sometimes Sardonic:
The revolution continues here:
Once again, we can continue to pick apart this godless universe full of chaos and pain – find a nice, warm, fuzzy part of it and laugh at futile it all is.
I’ll meet you there, fellow travelers.
“…we could explore space, together, both inner and outer, for ever, in peace.”
The Job Centre, so it’s come to this. Whenever I find myself in a room with a poster reminding me to “please not abuse the staff”, with a list of colourful bullet-points of what qualifies as ‘abuse’– swearing, physical confrontation, etc– I have to question all my life decisions up to that point.
It’s like they’re advertising civility, and the majority–myself included– are not the target market. Are we? I can understand why they have to do it, and I hate the fact that they have to do it. It’s degrading.
During the hour or so while I was there, a woman came in and sat in the waiting area– which incidentally looks like the set of the One Show– and proceeded to wait, obviously. Her phone rang, she answered. Almost immediately a panicky social worker appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.
“You can’t use your mobile in here! It’s against the rules! You have to hang up!”
She embarrassingly apologised, in front of all of us, first to the social worker and then to the person on her phone as she hurriedly hung up. She put her mobile back in her bag, and from it, she produced an apple. She took a bite when again,
“You can’t eat that here! It’s against the rules! Put it away!”
More apologies. More flustered putting away of ‘contraband’. Nervously, she took a sip from what was– I assume– a bottle of ordinary still water– most probably to calm herself down, it was turning into quite stressful ordeal for her. Again, out of the shadows, wielding her feigned authority…
“You can’t drink either! It’s against the rules! NO food, NO drink! Not while you’re in here!”
Two minutes into what was obviously her first visit and she was already a repeat offender! Laugh? I nearly spilled my can of Special Brew. Poor woman. Before stepping through those automatic doors we were just ordinary citizens looking for a bit of guidance. Now we were naughty children, sitting on our colourful oversized chairs.
PARANOIA & FEAR 1 – CIVILITY & FREEDOM 0
I’m going to protest the opening of the new Die Hard film by instead, taking a nice girl out on a date …or by just staying in and feeling bitter while others go about their romantic nothings.
My hesitance and apprehensiveness towards romance will be the death of me, a slow, lonely, prolonged death surrounded by many rescue dogs.
I had actually formulated a plan for this year– which speaks volumes for my romantic side, the fact that plans need to be formulates, as if love were a beast that requires strategy in order to be vanquished.
I shall best you one day, Love Beast!
My ‘plan’ for Valentine’s Day this year, as it conspired with the regular open mic night that occurs every Thursday evening, was to buy a dozen or two red roses and chivalrously pass them out to all the lay-dees. A single rose each, passed seductively from me to her, with myself cupping the flower part palm-up like a brandy glass. Smooth, right! Bar maids, patrons, performers, not a single… single-girl left out. In my mind this would make me a hero of sorts and who knows, could even, perhaps possibly… yield some results, maybe?
Not the most original plan, I know. It doesn’t matter now as alas, I can’t afford to be as frivolous with money or flowers now… or emotions for that matter. Can you imagine rocking up to a single-looking girl on Valentine’s Day and giving her just one of the many roses I’m holding: if she didn’t simply burst into tears straight away at the realisation of being alone on that particular day, she may instead feel hotly embarrassed by my charity, and no-one wants to be a charity case, especially on Valentine’s Day.
It’s best I just stay away, lest I inadvertently cause anymore tears to be shed on this most romantic of days.
…anyone want to see Die Hard?
In 1977, The Voyager spacecraft was launched and with it, the infamous Golden Record. Looking like something out of the WE WILL ROCK YOU musical, this golden piece of space vinyl contains a collection of songs we thought it wise to share with the entire universe.
As well as being a compilation disc of NOW THAT’S WHAT I CALL EARTH ’77, it also contain bonus multimedia footage. As well as pictures of various animals, plants and people, it has greetings in different languages– you know, just in case the inhabitants of the Andromeda Constellation can’t speak English but by some amazing coincidence, can understand Dutch.
In a rather bizarre move we also included diagrams of our reproductive organs. That’s coming on a little strong isn’t it? There’s different pictures of Earth on there to show our exact position in space. It’s like we sent them directions to our genitals. Are we ‘coming on’ to the entire galaxy? I’ve made a mix-tape before but it never even occurred to me to include a diagram of my fun parts.
(click for bigger)
A few more:
Balls: It’s not our fault. It’s genetics.
Doughnuts: Being a man truly is great.
No Fucks Given Gareth strikes back.
Christian Hate - Not that you can actually kill Jesus. You can put him out of action for a few days, but he’ll be back. He’s like a really forgiving Terminator.
Non Life-Threatening Men - The short finger nails and the sheer amount of practice they’ve had is also a bonus.
Robert Johnson - If I ever meet the Devil at the Crossroads, I’ll ask him to erase all traces and knowledge of that bloody awful Britney Spears movie. Although I think this wish may already be in effect.
Scrotum - Either that or a willing assistant, preferably one without a grudge, and with short finger nails.