What do you know;
They were right;
As it turns out;
There was no moon flight.
It's all become so clear;
Big Pharma wants you ill;
They could cure you really quick;
But they want you buying pills.
So they invent disease;
But don't invent a cure;
Then discredit herbal remedies;
Just to be sure.
That is just the start;
You'll think we've gone to hell;
I'm gonna blow your mind;
With what I have to tell;
Lizards rule the world;
Paul was replaced;
Aliens have landed;
And the evidence was erased.
Kennedy was assassinated;
By the CIA;
Then there was Diana;
By the royal family.
They don't want you to know;
The Government wants you scared;
That's why they made up aids;
And have terror plots prepared.
But the fear is not enough;
They want to control your mind;
That's why there's fluoride in the water;
And there are Chem-trails in the sky.
It's not all doom and gloom;
You'll be glad to know;
Elvis is not dead;
He's living in Morocco.
It's not just him that survived;
You know what never happened?
Those atrocities in Auschwitz;
They were all imagined.
But out of them all;
One thing rings more true;
You'll know it when I tell you;
And you've thought it through;
It should end your confusion;
It explains it all;
It brings them all together;
Now it makes sense overall.
It's about misinformation;
Being spread across the land;
By inventing stupid theories;
To hide what's really planned.
The Disappointment of 3D Glasses
The credits roll and lights fill the room, it is now over, your eyes
and that area above your ears ache slightly, you are glad that they
usually only make shorter films in 3d.
You can hardly contain your excitement, you have seen how wearing the special glasses has added an extra dimension to images on a 2d screen, you are trying to imagine what real world 3d objects will look like if given a 4th dimension, perhaps that dimension will be time, how exciting to be able to see into the future, or the past, or both, you have no idea how this additional dimension will manifest itself.
The audience is slowly filing out through the back, you join them, trembling with anticipation, the crowd moves slower than usual, it appears to be due to a female staff member standing by the exit with a tray collecting the magical spectacles, most people already have them in their hands, ready to relinquish them on their way out, you still wear yours on your head, do you have to give yours in too? Handing them in will make you miss out on the special 4th dimension, you have a decision to make, what will you do?
It is now your turn, the lady calls you "Sir" and asks you to return the glasses, you freeze momentarily unsure of what to do, you look up, the area slightly dimmed by the hue of your film goggles, you look into her face, then past her towards the front of the building and the main exit, in a moment, your mind is made up, you are sure you can make it.
You run, and head towards the door, pushing past clustered groups of film-goers, there is shouting, but you ignore it, running as fast as your legs can carry you until you are just a few feet away from the door and just as you are about to touch the glass the let yourself outside, you are tackled to the ground by a large man keen to help, the glasses are plucked from your face and taken away before you are able to comprehend what is happening.
Maybe next time you will make it outside, it will probably have to be a different cinema though, you might not be allowed back in this one.
You can hardly contain your excitement, you have seen how wearing the special glasses has added an extra dimension to images on a 2d screen, you are trying to imagine what real world 3d objects will look like if given a 4th dimension, perhaps that dimension will be time, how exciting to be able to see into the future, or the past, or both, you have no idea how this additional dimension will manifest itself.
The audience is slowly filing out through the back, you join them, trembling with anticipation, the crowd moves slower than usual, it appears to be due to a female staff member standing by the exit with a tray collecting the magical spectacles, most people already have them in their hands, ready to relinquish them on their way out, you still wear yours on your head, do you have to give yours in too? Handing them in will make you miss out on the special 4th dimension, you have a decision to make, what will you do?
It is now your turn, the lady calls you "Sir" and asks you to return the glasses, you freeze momentarily unsure of what to do, you look up, the area slightly dimmed by the hue of your film goggles, you look into her face, then past her towards the front of the building and the main exit, in a moment, your mind is made up, you are sure you can make it.
You run, and head towards the door, pushing past clustered groups of film-goers, there is shouting, but you ignore it, running as fast as your legs can carry you until you are just a few feet away from the door and just as you are about to touch the glass the let yourself outside, you are tackled to the ground by a large man keen to help, the glasses are plucked from your face and taken away before you are able to comprehend what is happening.
Maybe next time you will make it outside, it will probably have to be a different cinema though, you might not be allowed back in this one.
Too Many Hippies
Don't I have such an adorable name for my hips?
How on earth could I have too many of those? I have 2, one at the top
of each leg, right? Is the hip (the hippy) the hingey part or the bit
it connects to? If its the part it connects to, then I only have the
one hip and any more would be far too many, where would it go? Would
they stack?
Or perhaps there are just too many pairs of hips
in the world holding up the torsos of the members of a 1960's youth
movement, decorated with flowers and swaying to the psychedelic
music?
Maybe at one time there was, but now we are
reduced to small pockets of slightly disorientated folk that look as
though they live at music festivals, maybe they do? They're there the
whole time when I'm there, who am I to suggest they go home to real
houses like the rest of us afterwards? There is no proof that
Glastonbury becomes a proper dairy farm the rest of the time and
anyone who suggests there is is lying.
I have been called a hippy before too, I suppose I
have the long hair and I do wish I owned a camper van (also I tend to
separate my time fairly evenly between here and my holiday home in
the 1960's). If we are talking about me, then yes, it's probably fair
to say that 1 of me is about 1 too many.
James Square
If you go down to James Square on the first Wednesday of July, you will find the annual James party.
All of the James's meet up in the square at 6:15 (In the pm, we're not milkmen), We collect into blunders of Jamii (the collective noun and plural for James in the wild) and generally James about in the street
A bonfire is built upon which an effigy of James Caan is set alight.
James Bond films are projected onto a large screen at the end of the street for any of the Jamii that may be interested and James Brown CD's are played through loudspeakers.
We try not to be an insular group, we have always welcomed anyone who goes by Jim or Jimmy and in the late nineties an agreement was made to allow all of the Jamies in too.
We are looking to expand our membership further and some of the more liberal of us have been campaigning hard to extend it to similar girls names such as Jane, but unfortunately there are still a lot of the "old boys" - the retired butlers and such, some of whom still won't speak to the Jamies and are completely against any kind of change.
We have also tried to allow for foreign variations to be allowed in, the Jakup's, the Jacum's, the Jaime's and the Xaime's, but we still have a problem with some of the racist Jamii claiming the square is full.
I am unsure how we all manage to fit in, all the millions of Jamii and we manage to fit into a relatively small residential street, but the racists are wrong, there is plenty of room in James square on the 1st Wednesday of every July and if you are called James, or something like James, or even if you just know a James, you should come too.
All of the James's meet up in the square at 6:15 (In the pm, we're not milkmen), We collect into blunders of Jamii (the collective noun and plural for James in the wild) and generally James about in the street
A bonfire is built upon which an effigy of James Caan is set alight.
James Bond films are projected onto a large screen at the end of the street for any of the Jamii that may be interested and James Brown CD's are played through loudspeakers.
We try not to be an insular group, we have always welcomed anyone who goes by Jim or Jimmy and in the late nineties an agreement was made to allow all of the Jamies in too.
We are looking to expand our membership further and some of the more liberal of us have been campaigning hard to extend it to similar girls names such as Jane, but unfortunately there are still a lot of the "old boys" - the retired butlers and such, some of whom still won't speak to the Jamies and are completely against any kind of change.
We have also tried to allow for foreign variations to be allowed in, the Jakup's, the Jacum's, the Jaime's and the Xaime's, but we still have a problem with some of the racist Jamii claiming the square is full.
I am unsure how we all manage to fit in, all the millions of Jamii and we manage to fit into a relatively small residential street, but the racists are wrong, there is plenty of room in James square on the 1st Wednesday of every July and if you are called James, or something like James, or even if you just know a James, you should come too.
The 7 Worst Things to do with a 2B Pencil
The title here is self-explanatory so I won't go on a long, rambling introductory paragraph, suffice to say, this is just my personal opinion and I appreciate that everyone else will have their own take on the top 7 (or bottom 7) worst things to do with a 2B pencil.
1. Throw it at someone who has done nothing wrong
I would never be so ridiculous as to suggest that you should never throw a 2B pencil at anyone- if you see Dapper Laughs or Boris Johnson for example, you should definitely throw a pencil at them- but throwing it at some woman buying grapes at the supermarket checkout or an elderly man waiting for the bus is really out of order. Don't do that, OK?
2. Sharpen it right down the eraser upon first buying it
That it quite wasteful
3. Use it to perform a tracheotomy on a person who does not need a tracheotomy
You should only ever perform a tracheotomy on a person who needs a tracheotomy, and really a 2B pencil is probably not suitable if they do need one (I wouldn't know, my knowledge of tracheotomy techniques is very limited. For all I know, you really should perform a tracheotomy on someone who doesn't need one using a 2B pencil. Please continue to do so if that is the case)
4. Use it to stir some cake mixture because you can't be bothered to go over to the cutlery drawer
Are you trying to give everyone who eats your cake lead poisoning?!
5. Carve a lewd message into the side using a compass
This might sound like fun but it actually isn't and could upset anyone who reads the message, and it may mean that the compass isn't available to somebody who needs it
6. Put it up the nostril of a wax work Jesus
This would be mean and disrespectful. However funny it may seem, it is not very nice to put a 2B pencil up a wax Jesus' nostril.
7. Use it to write a rubbish blog post
The final entry in our list of worst things to do with a 2B pencil is to write a rubbish blog post. Luckily, despite this being my only blog, I have managed never to fall foul of this one, mostly because by its very nature, a blog post will not really be written down using a writing implement, that would just be a diary post or piece of writing. Oh well. Bye
1. Throw it at someone who has done nothing wrong
I would never be so ridiculous as to suggest that you should never throw a 2B pencil at anyone- if you see Dapper Laughs or Boris Johnson for example, you should definitely throw a pencil at them- but throwing it at some woman buying grapes at the supermarket checkout or an elderly man waiting for the bus is really out of order. Don't do that, OK?
2. Sharpen it right down the eraser upon first buying it
That it quite wasteful
3. Use it to perform a tracheotomy on a person who does not need a tracheotomy
You should only ever perform a tracheotomy on a person who needs a tracheotomy, and really a 2B pencil is probably not suitable if they do need one (I wouldn't know, my knowledge of tracheotomy techniques is very limited. For all I know, you really should perform a tracheotomy on someone who doesn't need one using a 2B pencil. Please continue to do so if that is the case)
4. Use it to stir some cake mixture because you can't be bothered to go over to the cutlery drawer
Are you trying to give everyone who eats your cake lead poisoning?!
5. Carve a lewd message into the side using a compass
This might sound like fun but it actually isn't and could upset anyone who reads the message, and it may mean that the compass isn't available to somebody who needs it
6. Put it up the nostril of a wax work Jesus
This would be mean and disrespectful. However funny it may seem, it is not very nice to put a 2B pencil up a wax Jesus' nostril.
7. Use it to write a rubbish blog post
The final entry in our list of worst things to do with a 2B pencil is to write a rubbish blog post. Luckily, despite this being my only blog, I have managed never to fall foul of this one, mostly because by its very nature, a blog post will not really be written down using a writing implement, that would just be a diary post or piece of writing. Oh well. Bye
Epidemic of Evil: A Creepy Tale in the Style of Garth Marenghi
Margaret worked in the accounting department of a medium sized distribution company in a small town just outside Lincoln. Upon finishing photocopying the days invoices, she entered the filing room on the 2nd floor.
Upon entering she came face to face with Pam from Human Resources, recognisable only by her name badge for she had been disembowelled, guts spilled out all over the floor. Guts. Guts. Guts. Guts. Guts. Guts. And her head.
Margaret was disappointed about the new shift patterns too, but that struck her as something of an overreaction.
Margaret rushed over to check for a pulse, but it was too late, Pam was stone cold dead and she was not coming back. Just to clarify, she won't become reanimated or be returning in zombie form at some point in the story, the role of her already dead corpse has come to an end.
Something smashed in the hallway and footsteps could be heard approaching, the killer presumably returning. Margaret turned the key to lock the door and looked around to find something with which to block it. Then she found it, a filing cabinet. But as she struggled to pull it over, a fist smashed through the window of the door, before reaching through and attempting to turn the key in the lock.
Margaret ran across the room towards the window and pulled the handle to open it, but unfortunately the window would only open a few inches, these restrictors put in place to prevent her and her colleagues from killing themselves could end up being the very reason for Margaret’s untimely demise.
Just then, Margaret heard a scream coming from the street below, when she looked down, what she saw shocked her to her very core, a scene of indescribable carnage, that I will now attempt to describe, dead bodies appeared to litter the streets and burning cars were craashed into the sides of builings opposite, as she watched she could see what looked like 2 men with knives stabbing into the body of who she assumed was the source of the scream.
This wasn't a single murderer terrorising a small town just outside Lincoln, this was an epidemic of evil!
Upon entering she came face to face with Pam from Human Resources, recognisable only by her name badge for she had been disembowelled, guts spilled out all over the floor. Guts. Guts. Guts. Guts. Guts. Guts. And her head.
Margaret was disappointed about the new shift patterns too, but that struck her as something of an overreaction.
Margaret rushed over to check for a pulse, but it was too late, Pam was stone cold dead and she was not coming back. Just to clarify, she won't become reanimated or be returning in zombie form at some point in the story, the role of her already dead corpse has come to an end.
Something smashed in the hallway and footsteps could be heard approaching, the killer presumably returning. Margaret turned the key to lock the door and looked around to find something with which to block it. Then she found it, a filing cabinet. But as she struggled to pull it over, a fist smashed through the window of the door, before reaching through and attempting to turn the key in the lock.
Margaret ran across the room towards the window and pulled the handle to open it, but unfortunately the window would only open a few inches, these restrictors put in place to prevent her and her colleagues from killing themselves could end up being the very reason for Margaret’s untimely demise.
Just then, Margaret heard a scream coming from the street below, when she looked down, what she saw shocked her to her very core, a scene of indescribable carnage, that I will now attempt to describe, dead bodies appeared to litter the streets and burning cars were craashed into the sides of builings opposite, as she watched she could see what looked like 2 men with knives stabbing into the body of who she assumed was the source of the scream.
This wasn't a single murderer terrorising a small town just outside Lincoln, this was an epidemic of evil!
Lizardwings
“Look, what was that? I just saw something. It
was weird it just flew past us, It didn't look like anything I've
ever seen before. Did you see it?”
“It was probably a bird, we don't get exotic
animals around here, unless maybe it was something escaped from the
zoo d'you reckon?”
“Zoo? There's no zoo around here, it would have
to fly for quite a while to get here. Anyway, it wasn't a bird, I
know what a bird looks like. Oh there it is again, it just landed on
that rock.”
“Ahh yea, I see it, that is odd looking, have
you got those binoculars?... It looks a bit lizard-like from here.
Lizards don't usually fly do they?”
“Really? Let's have a look. Oh yea, it does, it
looks a little bit like that Skink my brother had, but no, they
definitely don't fly, I would have remembered that. It looks like it
does have wings on it's back though, see?”
“Damn, on it's back? Like extra to it's legs?
How is that even possible? How can an animal evolve an extra set of
limbs? We could have discovered a whole new species here!”
“We should try and get closer, have you got a
camera or anything? This could be the biggest discovery of our
lifetime.”
“I think we frightened it, where did it go?
Maybe it just jumped down behind the rock, let's have a look.”
“No, it's definitely gone. That was cool though,
shame we didn't get any pictures, but that was amazing.”
“God Almighty. Look over there? There's loads of
them and they're flying this way and crap! Look at the size of that
one!”
“Shit!”
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