Filum Molusca.

Know what they are eh?

Slugs. Common garden variety.

I stood on one this morning.

:O(

Did you know that 40% of the species is canabilistic?

Hoh, yes. Its true.

Apparently ..

Just after mating, one of them might decide to make a swift meal of the other's genitals.

Which I think is true to form.

Given the nature of the universe.

You have sent a message!
I'm here.
Just dealing with some spazz.

Would you believe it .. she added me to her contacts list then sent me a message...

'hi'.

Wow.
Thrilled.
:)

I sometimes wonder why I bother...
*rolls eyes

You have sent a message!
Its like watching monkeys in the zoo ...

Run up and tap one another on the shoulder and grunt.

"hi"

You have sent a message!
This woman speaks 3 languages...
And a grunt is all she could manage.
Typical ICQ female actually.

They assume you are going to be interested in them purely because they are female.

You have sent a message!
Know what I mean?

You have received a message!
hello?

You have sent a message!
hi

You have sent a message!
hi

You have sent a message!
hello?

You have received a message!
hello?

You have sent a message!
wot u mean?

Later that day ...

You have sent a message!
hi

You have received a message!
have you been talking to retards again?

You have sent a message!
wot u mean?

You have sent a message!
hello?

You have received a message!
reinstalling half life, old boy. cheerio, pip pip!

You have sent a message!
hi

You have received a message!
basically, its like dis

You have received a message!
you be like, "yo! mother fucker!" and hes like "what the fuck?"

You have sent a message!
hi

Do you see what is happening?
ICQ must be banned.
Now.
They already banned it in France you know.

You have received a message!
wot u mean?

Woke up at about 7am this morning. Having stashed away two bottles of Hock last night I'm genuinely impressed with the potency of my new found 'super metabolism'. Not even nauseus. Which is impressive...

I dont seem to dehydrate as fast as before. Only the one number one all night. Although riding 30 miles XC feels fantastic... the morning after is worse on most levels than your standard alcholic hang-over. Something to do with lactic acid being generally more nasty when its allowed to sit in the muscle tissue. Whatever. I felt like I had been hit with a large mallet err repeatedly. Not muscle ache .. like the 'you did too much and now you are going to suffer' sort. More a sense of deep-heated exertion.

Well. Just had my standard breakfast of two crumpets and a litre of Evian.

We'll see if I can gee myself up to assembling my 'peck mate' which has been in the box it came in, in the same spot the delivery man left it for 6 months. Might also want to consider filling out my UCAS form ... it being only 3 weeks until clearing. Doh. Apart from that it looks like rain .. so I'll have to settle for a run this afternoon.

Isnt it amazing how many people out there open a business and simply have no idea about retail psychology?

You see them everywhere.. the local small business in the center of town. Just opening a shop and .. well ... opening a shop.

'Build it and they will come' is a line in a movie people, thats all. I wonder if anyone told them?

I just spent an hour of my £160 an hour time trying to explain to a local business webmaster that their site and their strategy was shit and .. because he's a friend just exactly why. Tyring to get the message accross to people that kids who buy mountain bikes dont buy mountain bikes, they buy brand names and image.

It seems to me a source of huge disparity (and a dash of irony) these days when so called 'enthusiasts' open small businesses with a vew to providing an 'enthusiast' outlet. WTF kind of mentality is that? Kids buy mountain bikes. They might actually ride them .. but they are still kids. And they still rely on a flashy image and cynical retail psychology to make them buy. I sometimes wonder why it is that people still believe customer service and all that shit sells. Its bull. Image, reputation and brand sells.

"Bullshit" the guy says ... "Its about service".

I just sit there and grin.

"Oh, really?" I pout. "So you are shovelling down that slimey Macdonald's slop because its cheap and tastes good? You wearing Levi's because they are quality jeans? You drive a Vectra because its a good car?" Idiots. I just wish someone would approach me with £100k and said: 'Make it into 2 million in 5 years and you can keep one for yourself'. *sigh

Largely uneventful day.

Altho I did manage to bash some Americans on a MuD I have 'been mostly eating' recently. Didn't do a very good job and have now decided to embrace this fantastic (muahah) nation of fine peoples(tm). One of whom expressed this touching verdict of our fair shores...

Mr Wetboats writes:

Have you ever been to England? I moved here from Ohio and I think it's a cultural wasteland. People are ignorant, brutal and hate their lives without asking why they were born. The food, transport, government, tv, films, music, fashion and general culture, educated or not, is shit (and expensive). And yes, I am going home soon..

Dumbrella.com as reccommended by LydiaGG

Mr. Wetboats. I love you. Yes I do.

Altho ... I have to say, I would willingly move to the States. Sadly they wont let me stay for more than 90 days. If only I were a penniless, illiterate, unskilled and non English speaking 'refugee'. Albanian, Iraqi, Slavic, or Romanian. The irony being if you come to ENGLAND from one of those three areas of the planet you are treated to the following on good old HM's taxpaying masses:

f) A free home for you, your 4 wives and your 34 children. At the expense of British Citizens who (being so liberal and understanding) sleep in the gutter. If there arent any free. We'll build you one.

u) Up to £250 ($400) a week in state allowance. Again at the expense of British Citizens some of whom dont even earn that in a week.

c) Yourself and your family are given priority over British Citizens on their National Health service.

k) Your kids are educated privately by £25 an hour personal tutors. Unlike the British Citizens who have to go to creshe....um..sorry... Comprehensive or state schools.

o) A visa to remain in the country for up to 3 years. At which time you CAN apply for citizenship.

f) The oppertunity to label anyone who isnt very happy about all this a facist/nationalist and actually have the support of the British Government. Yipee!

f) My verdict? God bless America!

Home

Woke up, trundled down stairs (at 12:40!) feeling sick as ever and grumbling about the bastards who invented British Summer Time, cursing farmers and pausing .. for a few minutes .. to admire my horny body in the mirror on the way to the kettle. Ah, yes, the kettle! Praise The Lord! There was a single, sparkling, clean cup!

This is an omen. So it is.

Post PG Tips is bliss and in my newly heightened state of conciousness I detect the faint 'tic-tic' of someone's laptop HD. Heavenly music! A finer way to start the day I cant imagine!!

My voting cards arrived today. People know what I think about voting forms and with a sneer I make to tear mine into a million little pieces in sacrifce to my Dark Warden, Our Other Lord, Marx.

Flatmate (A) stops me dead, 'Oi! People died so you could have that vote!'.

I'm dumbstruck.

I stare at her in wonderment.. she's wearing that top... THAT tight top... and I feel utterly wretched ...

After a few moments I retort, 'No. People may have believed that, you see people used to believe in a National Ideal (bit like The Glory of Rome) but in truth they were dying for some bourgois tossers ambitions. Who was as icompetant and careless with their lives and their trust in him as could be imagined. Many of them died (as on the Somme where 30 000 men walked to their deaths in a single MORNING) uselessly and without gain and I sneer at their stupidity, ignorance and niavety..'

She doesnt even blink! Knows me too well to fall for that sadly. She replies, 'What about WWII! That was different. People died to maintain democracy in the face of the NAZIS and despotism.'.

Its a good argument. But I digress, 'Or rather,' I sip my tea and lay a reassuring hand upon her shoulder, (not out of any patronizing intention, just because she gets horny when I talk deep and.. like I said... them leaving me a clean cup means its that particular time of the month for muchos egg fertilization and being semi-naked and in high spirits, I decide to press the initiative) 'They died to halt NAZISM, but they were were also protecting the nouvo class elitist democracy that has been practised in this and many other countries since 1792. Churchill himself was a direct descendant of the Duke of Marlborough for pities sake! This was a war of freedom, very true, it could even be labelled a war of democracy. I concede. But what nature of democracy? What is democracy? Certainly not the Athenian benchmark! Proportional representation? How important is your vote and how strong is the influence of American upon our culture now? What if anything is left of the culture those people fought so bitterly to protect? Not a great deal. I would argue that the (Invisible) American Empire is as evil, corrupt, destructive and inhumane as any despot could be in one lifetime!'

By this time it becomes apparent that though eloquent my rhetoric isnt impressing her and I'm loosing the argument on that most galling of points .. conceited judeo-christian morality influenced 'but this is RIGHT' spiel. Which annoys me intensely.

So I tear up the cards feinging a tantrum and bin them. She sighs, I loose a dead cert shag but gain a petty momentary victory. I pout and flaunt my masculine physicality to prove that words are for women and I could take her roughly if I wanted! She responds by seductively crossing her legs, adjusting her bra and testily going back to typing. I can smell her hair. Its just been shampooed. Yup. I loose. Left impotent by that same judeo-christian morality and disarmed I stalk off in search of some toast, her taunting giggle ringing in my ears. Daring me to come back and impose myself. Damn. Why does she have to rub it in?

Still, there's a brand new jar of honey to liberate! Yahoo! All is fine again.

NOTE TO SPORK: I'm too sexy for a duel. What you thinking? Damn man. How about a few games of Risk instead?

NOTE TO SELF: It is my duty to be a total and utter bastard. If only I could pull it off!

Just slobbing and watching This Morning. Have you SEEN the Australian 'Pop Stars'??? called 'Bardot'. Jesus. Now thats what I call a pop-group!

They can ALL sing, they are ALL under 25 (and 11 stone) and they are ALL (bar the ginger minger) drop dead mouth wateringly gorgeous. I mean these are the kind of women I long to meet. The ones who get inuendo and will laugh at themselves, and actually prefer conversation to 16 pints of bitter and a 3 minute fuck in the car-park. Charisma. Remember that?

So what do we have that sells more singles than Candle In The Wind? Well, we go for a bunch of has been washed up estate bints with stretch-marks and a mental age of 14. Hmmm. Tells you all you need to know about this country and its culture really.

Actually you know .. the more I think about it .. the more I realise why I'm so miserable here. Its not the weather or the job market, its the people. We're a nation of FAT peasents. Nobody smiles, we never actually talk to each other, no sense of humour that isnt derogitoray or self depreciating, no sponteniety, no sense of adventure and an abject dislike of any kind of change. We punish intelligent people, we are socially and physically elitist and we pay for everything unquestioningly.

I actually rather hate the English.

OUCH! my head.

Sweet Jesus! Not only do I wake up (hung over) to the sound of someone trying to drill through my ceiling .. but I have to nurse a full inch of slashed flesh on my forehead because my flatmate left the loft hatch open and in my water crazed haste I wandered right into it. <wince>

Today has started badly.

No clean cups. No cereal (save the one box of weetabix leering at me secure in the knowledge that eventually I will be hungry enough). No bread. Nothing but nettle tea and 0% sympathy-meter rating.

Yesterday I toyed with the prospect of moving out of England. Flights to Milan are only £65 return at the moment. I could go for a couple of months, head down to Naples and work out. Get some sun on me and shift some pounds. Might well do it. Mr. Bank Manager will need consulting but its definately a strong possibility. I need to get a life. Badly.