Items found in other people's bins:

• Yesterdays Daily Mail, with egg.
• Something gooey in a baggie.
• Letter from solicitors. Unopened.
• Shoes. Once smart, now also with egg.
• Resteraunt receipts.
• Old socks.
• Shredded papers.
• Lightbulb. Smashed.
• Free toy from a cereal packet.
• Bloodied bandages.
• Four three-quarter full jars of of unbranded instant coffee.
• Credit statements.
• Polaroid photographs. Several half burned.
• Various items of stationary. Sellotape, Tipp-ex etc.
• File-o-Fax.
• Keys of various shapes and types.
• Tie with mustard stain and insignia: MALCOM.
• Razzle (October 1982).
• Assortment of dead insects.
• Carrier bags. In volume and from various supermarkets.
• Hairpiece. Black.
• Disposable razors. Used.
• Gideon Bible.
• Gremlins 2: The New Batch. VHS.
• Junk mail.
• Portable telly. Still useable.
• Scraps of skin.
• Lippy and eyeliner.
• Unused coupons (3 x 5p off a litre of petrol).
• Passport. Photograph removed. Last stamped 1999, Hungary.
• Signed confessions. Various.

On saturday I was almost overcome by a sudden urge to leave EVERYTHING, walk out of my appartment jump on the next flight to the Phillipines and live a life style of drinking, drug abuse, hooker abuse, and making money in casual labour and selling my blood at a blood bank as often as they would let me. I would buy a cheesy shirt, chew gum, smoke too much, and carry a knife, a bottle of whiskey and a deck of cards at all times. I would know all of the seediest bars and the lapdance clubs. I would know all of the drug dealers, and black market types. I'd maybe get in a few barroom brawls. I'd lose teeth, sweat beer, wake up feeling like shit every morning and maybe kill a man. I would maybe spend some time working around the docks, or on cargo ships, perhaps with a sideline in smuggling. I would end my childish addiction to haribo sweets, and learn rudimentary kung-fu. I would wear cheap jewllery, and a cheap wristwatch, always have a tooth pick in my mouth. My voice would perhaps degenerate to a low growl due to constant abuse of my larynx. And I would die alone, probably because of the drink.

But then maybe I just listen to too much Tom Waits?

I made a tea, and curled up with a novel instead.

Morover, I suck.

I fell down the stairs again. It's something I do. See, these stairs are quite steep and for some reason they've been covered with a slippery carpet. Not the greatest idea in the world maybe, but for now I'm stuck with it. Of course this is carpet that I've inadvertently inherited rather than being carpet I've selected myself. A bumbling fool I may be but I pride myself on being the kind of bumbling fool who's not so bumbling he doesn't know right from wrong when it comes to staircase upholstry. However, I am fool enough to slip and fall over on the stairs all the bloody time.

Despite this slightly reckless disposition, I've managed to avoid serious injury so far. I ascribe this Bruce Willis-in-Unbreakable style skill to my relative suppleness and usual state of (ahem) advanced relaxation at the time of disaster. It's an idea I'm thinking of passing on to the safety people in the motoring and airline industries.

I found the livejournal of a guy at work. He doesn't know I know. It's like watching someone get undressed through their window from a tree across the road. Except the tree is my desk, the road is the Internet and the window, uhrm, is my mouse or something. And the undressing is just boring babble about ice cream and comics.

Somebody in this office is listening to some "music". I find it's blandness fucking offensive. Even the fucking drums are electronically harmonized. I will kill somebody today.

How is it, even though it's being played relatively quietly, I can hear it over the loud punk music coming out of my headphones. I guess shit music must use different frequencies or something. Frequencies that real music wouldn't be heard dead using.I'm going to take the guys crappy tinny PC speakers and recone them with his lungs.

White people make me sick: "Four out of 10 whites do not want black neighbour, poll shows".

For me, the most telling paragraph is:
Surveys 10 years ago showed anxiety about "freeloading" by lone parents and the unemployed, but now asylum seekers are the focus of resentment. Among lower socio-economic classes the feeling they are losing out rises above 50%.

A decade ago, the tabloid newspapers, in partnership with the Tory government, were calling for the hanging/shooting/thrown-into-a-pit-of-wild-paedophiles of scrounging, skanky single mothers and doleys but now it is all "bloody johnny foreigner steals our jobs and women" and "what did the arabs do for us?". Isn't it strange how public opinion has, completely coincidentally, moved in the same way?

Jesus was born in Bethlehem and that is, whichever way you look at it, smack back in the middle of the Arab region. Therefore, Jesus was an Arab who, you know, died for our sins and gave us chocolate bunnies to eat at Easter. I think that's a pretty nice thing for an Arab to do for us honkies. After all, chocolate bunnies keep the economy alive in that slow March-April period.

"what do [Arabs] contribute? Can you think of anything? Anything really useful?... No, nor can I..." -Robert Kilroy-Silk

Well, they invented the number zero. Oh and they pretty much invented fractions, invented methods of solving quadratic equations, developed large areas of geometry and advanced the world's knowledge of algebra. Whilst we westerners were still struggling with Roman numerals, they were cataloguing the stars and measuring the motion of the Sun. Arabs developed the first scientific methods making systematic and repeatable experiments. They were pioneers in their studies of light and vision, medicine, wind power, clockwork, and more.

But apart from all that, what have the Arabs ever done for us? They didn't invent the aquaduct though. I think the Romans did that.

As far as I can tell, Robert Kilroy-Silk is a crazy racist bigot and, assuming the Daily Express actually has editors, so are they.

for the two thousandth and third merry christmas, my friends and relatives gave to me:
five smelly products,
four assorted cook books,
three household items,
two silver watches
and 4lb of choc-o-late raisins.

I take it from the repetition that my friends and/or family members consider me to be stinky, perpetually late and absolutely incapable in the kitchen because i spend too much time paying attention to household knick-knacks and indulging my chocolate raisin fetish. i resent that. it's an obsession, not a fetish.