Like I've said show me a party worth voting for with a believable candidate and I'll maybe think about it, but until then no, it's my right not to vote as well.
Plus I don't live in England anymore, and over 2 years ago I waived my right to a postal vote, because once again both majority parties are a bunch of corrupt meglomaniacal bastards.
....and I can't vote here in the US, so technically I'm in a political limbo, and it suits me just fine.
What the British Legion has done there is discriminatory. They never berate members of other political parties for wearing poppies and laying wreaths.
Well, to be fair, those other politicians usually do that within the context of Remembrance Sunday. When Nick Griffin wears a poppy in June, it's not exactly rocket science to figure that he's not doing it out of respect to war veterans, but to subliminally associate his ideology with "British-ness" in much the same way that UKIP uses the image of Winston Churchill. And quite honestly, I think it's quite refreshing that the British Legion are prepared to call foul on that, even if it's not the politically correct thing to do...
"There is a really bad smell in here."
"You're lucky. I taste it. I smell of it. My wife hates me, but that's another story!"
The neon strip-lights flicker on and off. They have a strange alternating 'buzzing' sound eminating from them that seem to rattle the air in many different directions all at once. But the twin, steel-table-over-the-head-spot-lights, super-glare, washing everything in an unrealness, and shine near perfect patterns in tiny eye-like circles in some of the things laid out before them. But, sadly and dimly, unblasting light in the splattering of the blood spots that are spat all around. Bits of their light, like tiny weak little 'glow-flies', reflecting from an underpowered minature posh child's toy-house fibre-optic display, look upwards at everything. But thankfully, they diminish the power and intentisy of 'the bad bits' - making the blobs appear blackish, and somewhat less frightening. Ish.
But that smell.
"Well? What am I looking at?"
"This consists of over 100 different body parts. At least. All cut up and stitched back up together or glued back up together again. Rather well done, infact."
"So, you're saying we are looking at over a 100 different murders here?"
"No. I've not finished examining 'the body' yet, and there's samples that need testing - which may take a few weeks to get back to me. But I CAN tell you that the eyes come from a sheep and the teeth are from a cow, or maybe a young horse."
"There isn't a butterfly or moth hidden in the mouth, is there?"
"No. But the genitals are very interesting."
"I'm scared to ask!"
"I'm scared to tell you!"
"Well, you'll have to..."
"I'll file the report. Don't worry."
"Is there anything you can me give now? Time of death or something?"
"Which bit?"
"Don't be funny."
"Try the grave yards. The freshly buried. Most people get cremated, so it shouldn't be too hard to find 'missing' whole bodies or disturbed graves."
"And if nothing turns up?"
"Then you have one bastard out there! With one hell of a fettish."
"I think we have one bastard out there, with one hell of a fettish anyway!"
"Yeah, but it's one thing to dig up dead bodies, another to mess about with live ones! And I think there's more than one person involved here. And I'm not just talking about 'this bodies'. Check the local cemetaries. Check the local homeless. Check the local schools. Check the local farms. You are looking for things that are missing. The things we have here."
-
Tuesday.
Another 'bodies' rises from the waters. A little girl sees all, and screams. She is seven. Some of 'the parts' dissipate and sink again, and have to be collected later. Others are fresher and float. All can't talk, yet. But they all have a silent story to tell. They try to sink again. But the screams, out of sync, are just too loud! They drown out the screams of the child.
-
'The Bobbing Of The Bodies.' - Seven days and severe daze. Wish not to read.
Well, to be fair, those other politicians usually do that within the context of Remembrance Sunday. When Nick Griffin wears a poppy in June, it's not exactly rocket science to figure that he's not doing it out of respect to war veterans, but to subliminally associate his ideology with "British-ness" in much the same way that UKIP uses the image of Winston Churchill. And quite honestly, I think it's quite refreshing that the British Legion are prepared to call foul on that, even if it's not the politically correct thing to do...
Possibly, but it could have something to do with the Normandy landings.
Hmmm ... I guess this could serve as the proper thread for my "The Man With The Most Viable Sperm" short-story but I'm not sure the audience is mature enough for that one yet.
Hmmm ... I guess this could serve as the proper thread for my "The Man With The Most Viable Sperm" short-story but I'm not sure the audience is mature enough for that one yet.
(C) Sideways 8 - Continually Moi.
DOWNSIDES, I think you are referring to.
But this is episode 3 of a twelve partwork of my short films.
This is 'The Bobbing Of The Bodies."
This is a thirteenth episodic thing - the last of which links everthything together.
Run away now!
I mean it!
The 12 Tales Of Christmas. 13 tales and too much time.
And people think that means I'm violent and stuff - but really it's all about self rule, and nothing at all to do with terror and fear. Far from it.
Self rule ?!? Do you honestly honestly see that working ? It would be a complete nightmare if that happened and the UK would turn into a scene from Mad Max. Seen a few programs where some tree huggers, sorry people mention that self rule would work.
Cant see that one bit and would never happen here anyway
Self rule ?!? Do you honestly honestly see that working ? It would be a complete nightmare if that happened and the UK would turn into a scene from Mad Max. Seen a few programs where some tree huggers, sorry people mention that self rule would work.
Cant see that one bit and would never happen here anyway
Yeah. You're right. You've changed my mind. I am now violent and stuff. GRRRRRR!
What do you think we are around here? Dead posh like?
And I don't eat sweets and chocolate - just smash them to bits, which is healthy.
Spar Posh? Bollocks! The only people who shop in Spar are students (who can be classed as posh, most of the ones round my way were), and people too lazy to go to a real shop (Most of whom are raggedy charvas who know they can get 10 Lambert and a bottle of Frosty without getting carded).
Hardly Posh!
Personally I preferred my local "Star Market", cheaper and grubbier than Spar, but sold all those breakfast in a can things, which are good on toast wiv' HP sauce. They also sold Shahi frozen curries, but so did the fruit n' veg shop up the road as well (and it was cheaper). Infact they had loads of great cheap microwavable filth, like burritos and chilli burgers.
My anger is aimed at myself and inanimate objects!
Nobody gets hurt but me!
I just don't get angry ... mild frustration at the most, completely aimed at others and inanimate objects (mainly technology) ... nobody gets hurt overall.
Sorry to hear about your self-hurtingness, hope you get it looked at by top people ... that more often than not helps.
I just don't get angry ... mild frustration at the most, completely aimed at others and inanimate objects (mainly technology) ... nobody gets hurt overall.
Sorry to hear about your self-hurtingness, hope you get it looked at by top people ... that more often than not helps.
Comments
Like I've said show me a party worth voting for with a believable candidate and I'll maybe think about it, but until then no, it's my right not to vote as well.
Plus I don't live in England anymore, and over 2 years ago I waived my right to a postal vote, because once again both majority parties are a bunch of corrupt meglomaniacal bastards.
....and I can't vote here in the US, so technically I'm in a political limbo, and it suits me just fine.
And people think that means I'm violent and stuff - but really it's all about self rule, and nothing at all to do with terror and fear. Far from it.
And I've never voted ever.
Whomever you vote for - the government always win!
EDIT - oh, I believe in paying taxes and stuff - for the kids and schooling and hosipitals and the fire services. Even the police!
Well, to be fair, those other politicians usually do that within the context of Remembrance Sunday. When Nick Griffin wears a poppy in June, it's not exactly rocket science to figure that he's not doing it out of respect to war veterans, but to subliminally associate his ideology with "British-ness" in much the same way that UKIP uses the image of Winston Churchill. And quite honestly, I think it's quite refreshing that the British Legion are prepared to call foul on that, even if it's not the politically correct thing to do...
There is a bad smell here.
"There is a really bad smell in here."
"You're lucky. I taste it. I smell of it. My wife hates me, but that's another story!"
The neon strip-lights flicker on and off. They have a strange alternating 'buzzing' sound eminating from them that seem to rattle the air in many different directions all at once. But the twin, steel-table-over-the-head-spot-lights, super-glare, washing everything in an unrealness, and shine near perfect patterns in tiny eye-like circles in some of the things laid out before them. But, sadly and dimly, unblasting light in the splattering of the blood spots that are spat all around. Bits of their light, like tiny weak little 'glow-flies', reflecting from an underpowered minature posh child's toy-house fibre-optic display, look upwards at everything. But thankfully, they diminish the power and intentisy of 'the bad bits' - making the blobs appear blackish, and somewhat less frightening. Ish.
But that smell.
"Well? What am I looking at?"
"This consists of over 100 different body parts. At least. All cut up and stitched back up together or glued back up together again. Rather well done, infact."
"So, you're saying we are looking at over a 100 different murders here?"
"No. I've not finished examining 'the body' yet, and there's samples that need testing - which may take a few weeks to get back to me. But I CAN tell you that the eyes come from a sheep and the teeth are from a cow, or maybe a young horse."
"There isn't a butterfly or moth hidden in the mouth, is there?"
"No. But the genitals are very interesting."
"I'm scared to ask!"
"I'm scared to tell you!"
"Well, you'll have to..."
"I'll file the report. Don't worry."
"Is there anything you can me give now? Time of death or something?"
"Which bit?"
"Don't be funny."
"Try the grave yards. The freshly buried. Most people get cremated, so it shouldn't be too hard to find 'missing' whole bodies or disturbed graves."
"And if nothing turns up?"
"Then you have one bastard out there! With one hell of a fettish."
"I think we have one bastard out there, with one hell of a fettish anyway!"
"Yeah, but it's one thing to dig up dead bodies, another to mess about with live ones! And I think there's more than one person involved here. And I'm not just talking about 'this bodies'. Check the local cemetaries. Check the local homeless. Check the local schools. Check the local farms. You are looking for things that are missing. The things we have here."
-
Tuesday.
Another 'bodies' rises from the waters. A little girl sees all, and screams. She is seven. Some of 'the parts' dissipate and sink again, and have to be collected later. Others are fresher and float. All can't talk, yet. But they all have a silent story to tell. They try to sink again. But the screams, out of sync, are just too loud! They drown out the screams of the child.
-
'The Bobbing Of The Bodies.' - Seven days and severe daze. Wish not to read.
Coming Soon
(c) 2009 Sorten Suite.
Possibly, but it could have something to do with the Normandy landings.
Stupid man! Get to be a Z-list celeb and go completely off the rails
Hmmm ... I guess this could serve as the proper thread for my "The Man With The Most Viable Sperm" short-story but I'm not sure the audience is mature enough for that one yet.
(C) Sideways 8 - Continually Moi.
DOWNSIDES, I think you are referring to.
But this is episode 3 of a twelve partwork of my short films.
This is 'The Bobbing Of The Bodies."
This is a thirteenth episodic thing - the last of which links everthything together.
Run away now!
I mean it!
The 12 Tales Of Christmas. 13 tales and too much time.
EDIT - this is the wrong site for this.
Alright, alright, ALREET!!!! :evil:
Gaylord! :D
Self rule ?!? Do you honestly honestly see that working ? It would be a complete nightmare if that happened and the UK would turn into a scene from Mad Max. Seen a few programs where some tree huggers, sorry people mention that self rule would work.
Cant see that one bit and would never happen here anyway
Bend over and take it like a man.
No!
The quote doesn't bother me actually.
Yeah. You're right. You've changed my mind. I am now violent and stuff. GRRRRRR!
Newsagents and Spar beware!
Lock up your sours and choccy bars there's a hammer wielding maniac on the loose.
What do you think we are around here? Dead posh like?
And I don't eat sweets and chocolate - just smash them to bits, which is healthy.
Spar Posh? Bollocks! The only people who shop in Spar are students (who can be classed as posh, most of the ones round my way were), and people too lazy to go to a real shop (Most of whom are raggedy charvas who know they can get 10 Lambert and a bottle of Frosty without getting carded).
Hardly Posh!
Personally I preferred my local "Star Market", cheaper and grubbier than Spar, but sold all those breakfast in a can things, which are good on toast wiv' HP sauce. They also sold Shahi frozen curries, but so did the fruit n' veg shop up the road as well (and it was cheaper). Infact they had loads of great cheap microwavable filth, like burritos and chilli burgers.
Erm! I seem to have gone off on one....oh well!
We had a Spar once.
They did nice not pork pies for when you went missing at school!
EDIT - actually, a Spar around here would be dead posh!
Mum's just been round and is turfing me out! It's her house what I is renting!
F*ck!
On the streets again! And it's raining! F*ck!
I'll lose everything again else now!
F*ck!
2 hours from now!
You think I'm joking!
The mess is me being angry!
Same as this???
No.
Not the same at all!
Are you mad?
LOL!
Yes ... though not angry.
My anger is aimed at myself and inanimate objects!
Nobody gets hurt but me!
I just don't get angry ... mild frustration at the most, completely aimed at others and inanimate objects (mainly technology) ... nobody gets hurt overall.
Sorry to hear about your self-hurtingness, hope you get it looked at by top people ... that more often than not helps.
Hug?
Kiss?
Oh, I talk bollocks all the time!
Mess with me, mess with my dog! LOL!
Why do I prefer cats? Because most dogs I know of are messy.
NSFW!
http://myweb.tiscali.co.uk/frobush/Down.mp3
http://kotaku.com/5312847/the-most-bizarre-5-minutes-youll-spend-this-morning
EDIT - a little NSFW near the end, but not much.