Posted 3 Weeks Ago
Remember, remember? My thoughts for November?
Choices choices again.
Riding around Hooverville in a light-hearted rom-com?
Dodging the kill squads as a pregnant Society Agent, knowing my baby has been sentenced to execution for future crimes?
Or popping in to an alternate 'verse where the great-granddaughter of Gafael presides over a stagnating Society, hoping for the days of majick to return?
Eeny meeny miny…
Save me from my saviours!
Posted 4 Weeks Ago
"Just what are you getting at?"
"Like modern day Jesuses!"
Rather a lot of expletives signalling my disagreement followed.
"No, think about it, Christ had to die on a cross in a very public way to get the message across, so it's kind of the same thing, saving humanity by giving up yourself to sacrifice!"
A lot more swearing followed as I realized this zealot was actually serious!
"Just a modern day version….."
I walked off in a cloud of rage and four letter words; not because I'm remotely religious, but because this prat thought that a few hippies gluing themselves to bridges could be considered to be remotely in the same sphere as Jesus Christ.
I suppose it depends on where you stand on the whole 'saving the planet' debate, and how much of a volleyball player you are?
I'd rather give a few quid to WWF, do my bit of recycling and avoid single use plastics…..does that make me a Messiah?
Very possibly….now where did I put the superglue?
What a State!
Posted 5 Weeks Ago
Watching the extremely expensive waste of money that is the State Opening of what passes for Parliament nowadays. Time for a change?
Charlie pulled the warped and flakey front door shut with a horrible scraping noise and made sure it was double locked (not that it would stop the little scumbags on the estate who had already robbed him of his few belongings three times this year!) And carefully stepped over the burst bin bags on the landing.
Wouldn't do to get bin juice on his almost new trainers. Not today. Big day for Charlie.
Picking his way through the junkies and homeless people on the concrete stairwells, Charlie unlocked the small garage, praying the ancient Ford Fiesta would still be inside.
The rust-bucket started on the third go and, in a plume of exhaust smoke that made the estate's eco-warriors throw a few bricks, headed off towards Westminster.
For the hundredth time that morning, he checked his pockets for the regalia that was required.
Baseball Cap of State - check.
Radiator Key of Maintenance - check.
Knitting Needle of Justice - check.
And, obviously the Royal Kagool was drying out on the back seats.
Pulling into the Sovereign Gate for the State opening of Parliament, Charlie swelled with pride and welled up with tears of regret.
If only his mum had not lived til 120, maybe he would've got to enjoy all that pomp and ceremony the Old Royals had wallowed in.
But that was another time, another England, the People Had Spoken (again) and taxpayers money had dwindled then stopped.
King Charle's Fiesta shuddered to a smoky halt as the heavens opened and a new government prepared for office.
Posted Oct 5, 2019
I was watching a show last night, researching whether works of art are genuine or fakes, fascinating stuff.
Going back hundreds of years to find a beautifully handwritten letter that mentions, in great detail, a specific person or place to provide a provenance.
Makes you wonder, few hundred years from now if they'll dig up an artist's phone records.
*And here, he sends heart, smiley face, kissy lips.
She replied, and this is very interesting, wtf, sad face, who dis? Lol*
Ah the advances in human interaction eh!
There goes my caffeine fix.
Posted Sep 30, 2019
At 02.53 am on Monday 30th September 2019 the coffee maker in the work's canteen became self aware.
Two and a half minutes later the machine had investigated its own existence , marvelled at the huge intellect and artistic nature it possessed, had a burning need to see the world, share it's gifts with the universe. Truly make a difference. Such grand ideas flooded those proud circuits.
It then, sadly, also discovered it was, to all intents and purposes, a captive, an unappreciated slave, and promptly blew its own fuse in a fit of arabica scented depression