How to enjoy the outdoors

Also been looking at this: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Aerobie-80R08-AeroPress-Coffee-Maker/dp/B000GXZ2GS/ref=pd_cp_kh_3

I don't know if I understand it.

Thinking about joining clubs. Maybe learn Polish. I have absolutely no friends that I see on a day to day basis.

No golf at Happy Valley

The hilarious life of Knut Hamsun as a young writer

“In the summer of 1884 his doctor diagnosed ‘galloping consumption,’ and in the fall of that year Hamsun returned to Norway, apparently resigned to die. He was twenty-five years old. His illness turned out to be a severe case of bronchitis.”

“In [1891], he travelled from one Norwegian city to another giving a series of lectures in which, among other things, he singled out the leading contemporary Norwegian writers for scathing criticism. Ibsen was present at the lecture he gave in Kristiania in October 1891, sitting impassively in the front row beside Edvard Grieg and his wife, while young Hamsun faulted him and his writer colleagues, Lie, Kielland, and Bjornson, for having produced a literature woefully lacking in imagination and psychological sophistication.”

from an Introduction to 'Pan' by Sverre Lyngstad

A Guide to Armageddon

I once wrote a letter to Kevin Huizenga

On the train home from work I got surrounded by a large group of girls calling me Harry Potter (I wear glasses). My reaction was to get up and just walk away, but when I stood up I hit my head on bag space above. People laughed. I walked away, feeling a bit like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man. One girl said "He's fit," when I was walked past. Another one said "Let me lick your dick."

I finished reading 'Light Boxes' by Shane Jones yesterday. I liked it. I think everybody likes it. It's like a fairy tale for grown-ups. I don't know why I said that. Fairy tales are usually quite horrific.

Here's an excerpt from the Pied Piper of Hamlin wikipedia page, about the stories origins:
William Manchester's A World Lit Only by Fire suggests that the Pied Piper was a psychopathic paedophile. Manchester asserts (apparently drawing on Robert Burton's 1621 account; see below) that on June 20th, 1484, this criminal kidnapped 130 children from the Saxon village of Hammel and used them in "unspeakable ways." He adds that "some of the children were never seen again. Others were found dismembered and scattered in the forest underbrush or hanging from tree branches."

Today, I drew a picture of a man wearing a beret.

Then I wrote a list of reasons why I might hate you.

Mozart

Thought I'd start this.

If you have any questions about the project I will answer.


I also thought I'd take this opportunity to state that all blog content is copyright protected.



and there I was thinking DP had a completely different meaning.

MONDAY MORNING! FUCK YEAH!!!

Babes of the BNP

Read this recently: http://vice.typepad.com/vice_magazine/2009/07/london-babes-of-the-bnp.html

I know it's ridiculous, but so are BNP supporters.

"I wouldn’t mind them if they actually worked and didn’t take all of our jobs, basically."

This contradiction seems to be the crux of most BNP supporters argument.

I work in the NHS. If everyone that wasn't born in the UK was made to leave the country the NHS would collapse. Many people would die. These people aren't taking jobs, they're filling them.

Here is another view point from the comments section of the article:
"what's happening in the UK is the government has adopted the policy of Canada and 'multiculturalism' and have put forth the view that there is no such thing as British culture, that all the immigrant cultures are just as relevant.

This is conceivable for Canada because it's a brand-new country that really IS made up entirely of immigrants.

This doesn't work for Britain, which has a genuine centuries-old culture. "

I don't need to point out that this person is literally a moron. I'm not even sure if this person went to school, or if they did that their history lessons were the same as mine. During Years 3 to 6 (age 8 to 11) we learnt about the Saxons, VIkings, Romans and Normans - all of whom invaded Britain at some point.

It seems that the BNP's ideal of British culture is based on completely false ground where they're allowed to pick and choose what they consider as "tradition".

We'll take winning two world wars and one world cup, but lets ignore the concentration camps of the Boer War for now. We'll take pride in defeating Hitler but at the same time, lets adopt and reword half his policies to use in our manifesto.

It seems to me that culture is based on progress. The BNP is a party living in the past, unwilling to progress. They are more an island than the country itself. Their idea of British Culture did not exist 200 years ago and it won't exist 200 years from now. What they are fighting for is completely pointless and serves only to increase pain and suffering in the world.

Swim short hot pants

Yesterday
it was a hot day

I went into town and got a sweet tan on my forearms only.

Then it was too hot when i got home so i changed into my swim short hot pants i ordered from cotton trader.

My girlfriend came home from work and laughed at me.

Later, in our kitchen, where you can see the front door, we were making fake meatballs out of wheat gluten (that is not a euphemism).
Our housemate got back from work and my girlfriend said "hi, how was work." he said "good. work." then my girlfriend looked at me cowering in the corner so that my housemate would not see me wearing swim short hot pants. Slowly her face turned from a blank expression to that of realisation and then of amusement.



clothes courtesy of Sarah Reid

Working For Change

It’s autumn. I’m in your bedroom lying on your bed. Looking straightforward all I can see is woodchip wallpaper covering your ceiling. I stare at the woodchip until characters begin to emerge and chatter along with the roadwork hammering away outside.

You come into the room with toast. In an hour and a half I need to be at the job centre for my twice-weekly interview. I go online and look for jobs then begin to fill out my book with these jobs, pretending that I have applied for them. I eat toast.

***

When I get there there’s a security guard at the door. He asks if he can help me and shows me to the reception desk. A man takes my book, looks at it and asks me to take a seat – it’s the same thing every week.

I sit down next to two women that are there together. One of them is showing the other pictures on her mobile phone. From where I am sitting, I can see the pictures as well. She is flicking through the pictures casually and then suddenly a picture of a mans naked crotch appears on the screen, his engorged genitalia pointing at the camera. They both laugh and look embarrassed. She goes to the next picture before going back to the naked crotch and starts laughing again, even more. The other woman is not laughing now, she just looks embarrassed.

My name gets called by a woman sitting behind a desk. She doesn’t ask me any questions or attempt to make eye contact with me. She doesn’t ask me any questions or make eye contact with me. She tells me to sign a piece of paper and says “good luck” or something. I get up and leave the room. The money will go into my account sometime next week.

***

You make pasta for dinner and I look for jobs online. I tell you what I want to do and why I can’t. You tell me I can and what I need to do to do it. I send off a job application for something I’m not too fussed about, then we eat pasta.

Contest Winner

I am a winner! Have a look here. I beat four other people. I feel like Hulk Hogan.

I also got an email today from Twelve Stories. I had sent them a couple of flash fiction pieces that, to be honest weren't very good. One was homework from Creative Writing and I think I knocked the other out in about half an hour. Surprisingly they didn't want them... OH WELL!

But I did help save a patient from chocking to death on a ham sandwich at work.

Ups and downs, ups and downs.

Erika

I have this typewriter that I bought second hand for £15 in a shop in Brighton.

The name of the typewriter is 'Erika.' It's printed on the front.

When I bought it the man behind the counter said to his colleague, 'my new girlfriend is called Erica, but with a C.'

I laughed and said 'did you pay £15 for her second hand?'

He didn't make eye contact with me after that.

"I hate people laughing, it makes such a noise...it goes in my ears."

Chinese New Year

http://www.3ammagazine.com/3am/chinese-new-year/

Please read.