I was going to write another post but I got tagged so even though I don't respond to taggings I decided that this was easier than the post I had in mind. So without further ado let me begin.....
Three things that scare me:
The human race....every last one of you is a
scary bugger. Do you know what you are capable of? No? Don't find out, I don't ever want to know.
Flying in an aircraft with only one pilot. Think about it, people die all the time, you don't want to be up in the air when the only person that knows how to get you safely on land again has just croaked.
Karma. I should be a better person, but I can't help it, its so much more fun being bad.
Three people who make me laugh:
John Cleese.
Billy Connolly.
Random people, and the stupid things they say and do.
Three things I love:
Standing on the top of a mountain, feeling like just a small part of the universe. God I'm such a hippy, I don't know why I don't just grow my hair long and surrender to it fully.
Orgasms. Hers, mine, I'm not fussy. Oh, you were paying attention?
That smile that says she likes me, nay, she loves me. It's been a while.
Three things I hate:
"You have been placed in a queue but your call is important to us...."
Stupid, racist, close-minded, cunts. I think that say it all.
Sigur Ros CD's.
Three things I don't understand:
People who regularly go to to tanning salons. You're Scottish, you aren't supposed to tan. Deal with the fact that you aren't meant to look like a walking, talking orange.
Why women wear the most uncomfortable shoes they can find, and love them. Don't get me wrong I like what a five inch heel does to the shape of a woman's calf muscle but there is no good reason that I can think of if I had been born a woman that I would want to wear and walk in such a contraption.
The difference between the people who hear God speak to them and spend their time in a mental institution and others who hear God but who get their own slot on television complete with premium rate phone number and access to the life savings of old people who have more money than sense.
Three things on my desk:
Food.
Books.
CD's.
Three things I'm doing now:
Listening to music. No change there then
Eating lunch.
Duh! Writing this.
Three things I want to do before I die:
Travel the world in a hot air balloon. Preferably without getting shot down whilst flying over a warzone. But if it adds excitement......
Ride a Harley. Without killing anyone or get beaten up by a beer bellied, hairy arsed biker.
Go into a book shop with buying half the store. It might sound simple to you but you have no idea......
Three things I can do:
Make a mean Spaghetti Bolognese. But then its not really hard. Shut up.
Procrastinate Now that, I'm an expert at.
Fuck off, that will do you are making me think too hard.
Three things I can't do:
Dance. I have no rhythm.
Sing. But it's OK, I know this and never wanted to anyway.
Lick my own elbow. If you can do this you aren't human, you are a freak.
Three things I think you should listen to:
Birds singing in the morning and late evening. Forget the pointless stress of modern living, listen, chill, find your zen.
My mother. Even if it's only to say afterwards "I told you I shouldn't have listened to you!"
Aqueous Transmission by Incubus. Just don't listen to it whilst driving at 5 am. You have been warned.
Three things you should never listen to:
Politicians. They are either boring or down right dangerous, or both. Ignore them all.
Advice from people who are even more messed up than I am. Enough said.
Back seat drivers. Especially those who have never sat behind the steering wheel in their life.
Three things I'd like to learn:
To dance the salsa or tango with a beautiful woman. Not just any beautiful woman, my beautiful woman, not some dance teacher that I am paying too much of my hard earned money too. I'm greedy dammit, I want it all.
Why I learnt algebra at school for over 2 years only to never use when I left. I can't think of one instance since then where I have said "Let X = ......"
Why the nutter's on the bus or train always sit beside me. Second thoughts, I don't want to know.
Three favourite foods:
Shellfish. Not a big fish eater but I like my prawns, crab, lobsters etc. I don't understand it either.
My mothers homemade soup. It's good!
Pasta. It could be macaroni or Spaghetti, I don't care just give me some.
Three beverages I regularly drink:
Irn Bru. Betraying my West of Scotland roots.
Pineapple Juice. I like pineapples for no good reason
Milk. Only semi-skimmed. Full fat cream makes me sick. Don't know why.
.....
Three television programs I watched as a child:
The Incredible Hulk - It was the theme tune. I would watch the whole program on a weekly basis just for theme tune at the beginning and end of the show. I was a weird child.
The Littliest Hobo. Again it was the theme tune and the fact that I was a sucker for lost dogs that helped random strangers for no good reason other than it was the right thing to do.
Speedy Gonzales. Now how could you not like the fastest mouse in all of Mexico? I mean really! "Arriba! Arriba!
I'm not mean enough to nominate anyone for a tagging, besides with my irregular posts over the last 11 weeks or so, it's likely I only have 2 readers left.
Thursday, 22 March 2007
Tuesday, 20 March 2007
Music Is My Hot, Hot Sex
I'm finally home to stay after 11 weeks away and despite the fact that I have over 11000 songs on my computer I feel the need for new music so I thought we could play a game. I'll tell you what I'm listening to and you share what you are listening to and maybe we'll both benefit. Just play the game!
Vashti Bunyan - British folk singer that brings out a new album every 35 years, next album is due out in 2040. Until then you can enjoy two albums, the lyrics may be a little sickly sweet but it doesn't seem to matter when her voice is so hauntingly beautiful.
The Good, The Bad, And The Queen - Damon Albarn of Blur & the Gorillaz must be the hardest working man in the industry.
Jo Mango - Seen her live in Glasgow once, aching to go back see her again if only to listen to My Lung.
The Hedrons - Also from Glasgow, all female rock band.
Cansei De Ser Sexy - Gotta love a band with a name that translates to English as Tired Of Being Sexy. Anyway its a Brazilian electro pop band and its rumoured that they are going to move from Sao Paulo to Glasgow to enable them to crack the European market. Now I love Glasgow and Glasgow does have a good music scene but if I were Brazilian I think I would prefer to spend my days on warm Brazilian beaches, but what do I know....
The Fratellis - I'm sure I've mentioned them before, but i'm still listening so I'm not apologising for mentioning them again.
Shitdisco - Weird name but it works.
Uffie - Looks a little bit like Kate Moss, sounds a little like Peaches if she did electro bubblegum pop.
Beirut - Strange song titles that could sound a little pretentious if the music didn't work so well.
Willy Mason - Can't help playing Oxygen and All You Can Do over and over again. He's like a modern day Bob Dylan with a better singing voice.
Jack Penate - Looks like he belongs to the 50s era but has a more modern sound.
New Young Pony Club - Thanks to the Intel advert I keep playing this band.
Anyway it's late, I've played the game now its your turn.
I was going to add more like The Hazey Janes, The Cinematics, The Draymin, Mr Hudson & The Library, & The Maccabees but that would have made it an odd number of bands so I got lazy and didn't.
Vashti Bunyan - British folk singer that brings out a new album every 35 years, next album is due out in 2040. Until then you can enjoy two albums, the lyrics may be a little sickly sweet but it doesn't seem to matter when her voice is so hauntingly beautiful.
The Good, The Bad, And The Queen - Damon Albarn of Blur & the Gorillaz must be the hardest working man in the industry.
Jo Mango - Seen her live in Glasgow once, aching to go back see her again if only to listen to My Lung.
The Hedrons - Also from Glasgow, all female rock band.
Cansei De Ser Sexy - Gotta love a band with a name that translates to English as Tired Of Being Sexy. Anyway its a Brazilian electro pop band and its rumoured that they are going to move from Sao Paulo to Glasgow to enable them to crack the European market. Now I love Glasgow and Glasgow does have a good music scene but if I were Brazilian I think I would prefer to spend my days on warm Brazilian beaches, but what do I know....
The Fratellis - I'm sure I've mentioned them before, but i'm still listening so I'm not apologising for mentioning them again.
Shitdisco - Weird name but it works.
Uffie - Looks a little bit like Kate Moss, sounds a little like Peaches if she did electro bubblegum pop.
Beirut - Strange song titles that could sound a little pretentious if the music didn't work so well.
Willy Mason - Can't help playing Oxygen and All You Can Do over and over again. He's like a modern day Bob Dylan with a better singing voice.
Jack Penate - Looks like he belongs to the 50s era but has a more modern sound.
New Young Pony Club - Thanks to the Intel advert I keep playing this band.
Anyway it's late, I've played the game now its your turn.
I was going to add more like The Hazey Janes, The Cinematics, The Draymin, Mr Hudson & The Library, & The Maccabees but that would have made it an odd number of bands so I got lazy and didn't.
Saturday, 10 March 2007
Forgive Me Reader It Has Been A Month Since My Last Posting.....
....Push Me Over A Chair And Spank Me.
Damn, did I really just type that?
Anyway moving on, I do have a good excuse for not updating this blog or reading and commenting on others and that is I've only been home 2 days over the past month with this being the second day.
A lot has happened in the past month and quite frankly I don't have the time to address it all so instead I'll just give you a teaser of my oh-so-exciting life by sharing with you just a couple of the more shameful and embarrassing incidents.
First of all let me address the shameful, I, whom you know as Scotsman, has discovered in the last few weeks that I HATE the music of the Icelandic band Sigur Ros. That's hate with a capital H A T E. Up until now I've prided myself on the fact that I haven't really hated anything or anyone. Sure there were moments in my life that I disliked someone with an intense passion but most of the time I'm an easy going kind of guy and so I hadn't really reached a stage where hate was part of my emotional make up. Sadly that is no longer true, in these times of hate and pain I must confess that I too am a hater. The confusing thing is I used to quite like Sigur Ros, granted I did have to be in a certain mood to feel the urge to play it but nonetheless it was music that I used to enjoy. That was until I was forced to live and work with someone who thought that their music was the best thing since sliced bread, and would play the music 20 hours a day every day for 8 (very long) weeks. I even tried going to sleep early to escape the noise, to no avail - you can't escape music when it played as loud as the volume dial will go. The hating of the music got to such extremes over the past few weeks that at my last count I had thought of 37 different ways of destroying the Sigur Ros cd. In truth if I was logical human being I would not have hated the band but the person who inconsiderately selfishly played the band but with hate being an ugly and irrational emotion, its easier to hate when you neither know or understand what you are hating, both of which apply to Sigur Ros. Even when I did like Sigur Ros I couldn't say I understood what they were about.
Now for the embarrassing, for the past three weeks I've been having problems with my derrière, namely its been farting - alot. Now we all release gas from time to time (even those who don't admit to it) but lately my backside seems determined to destroy the ozone layer all on its own. Normally I would admit to my farts and maybe even apologise for them but for the past few weeks the farting has been so frequent and the stench so powerful that I haven't wanted to admit to such behaviour. Luckily for me the farting has been silent and I have been able to walk away from the fart before anyone I was working with at the time was able to put two and two together and point the fingers of blame in my direction. Shameful I know, but don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same.
Anyway after over 3 weeks of seemingly uncontrollable farting I decided I needed to see someone about it so I broke the habit of a lifetime and went to see a doctor, where I heard in an Irish accent "Let me break it to you, your shit's fucked up."
My initial reaction 'My shit's fucked up?', 'Did he just say that?', 'Surely he didn't just say that', 'What happened to the vocabulary and bedside manner of doctors?'
When he then made noises about examining my colon, if after reducing my intake of fruit and vegetables in the next few weeks didn't make any difference to my excessive flatulence, I decided it might well be another while before I set foot in a doctors practice again. What can I say I feel too young to be prodded and poked and well it can only be a matter of time before everything returns to normal, I hope.
Anyway I'm done now, I've confessed my sins - I'm a hater and a serial farter, its time for me to sign out. A week from now I should be back home for good which should mean no more of me being subjected to Sigur Ros and hopefully the flatulence will have ended by then too but even if it hasn't I should at least become a semi regular blog once again.
Damn, did I really just type that?
Anyway moving on, I do have a good excuse for not updating this blog or reading and commenting on others and that is I've only been home 2 days over the past month with this being the second day.
A lot has happened in the past month and quite frankly I don't have the time to address it all so instead I'll just give you a teaser of my oh-so-exciting life by sharing with you just a couple of the more shameful and embarrassing incidents.
First of all let me address the shameful, I, whom you know as Scotsman, has discovered in the last few weeks that I HATE the music of the Icelandic band Sigur Ros. That's hate with a capital H A T E. Up until now I've prided myself on the fact that I haven't really hated anything or anyone. Sure there were moments in my life that I disliked someone with an intense passion but most of the time I'm an easy going kind of guy and so I hadn't really reached a stage where hate was part of my emotional make up. Sadly that is no longer true, in these times of hate and pain I must confess that I too am a hater. The confusing thing is I used to quite like Sigur Ros, granted I did have to be in a certain mood to feel the urge to play it but nonetheless it was music that I used to enjoy. That was until I was forced to live and work with someone who thought that their music was the best thing since sliced bread, and would play the music 20 hours a day every day for 8 (very long) weeks. I even tried going to sleep early to escape the noise, to no avail - you can't escape music when it played as loud as the volume dial will go. The hating of the music got to such extremes over the past few weeks that at my last count I had thought of 37 different ways of destroying the Sigur Ros cd. In truth if I was logical human being I would not have hated the band but the person who inconsiderately selfishly played the band but with hate being an ugly and irrational emotion, its easier to hate when you neither know or understand what you are hating, both of which apply to Sigur Ros. Even when I did like Sigur Ros I couldn't say I understood what they were about.
Now for the embarrassing, for the past three weeks I've been having problems with my derrière, namely its been farting - alot. Now we all release gas from time to time (even those who don't admit to it) but lately my backside seems determined to destroy the ozone layer all on its own. Normally I would admit to my farts and maybe even apologise for them but for the past few weeks the farting has been so frequent and the stench so powerful that I haven't wanted to admit to such behaviour. Luckily for me the farting has been silent and I have been able to walk away from the fart before anyone I was working with at the time was able to put two and two together and point the fingers of blame in my direction. Shameful I know, but don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same.
Anyway after over 3 weeks of seemingly uncontrollable farting I decided I needed to see someone about it so I broke the habit of a lifetime and went to see a doctor, where I heard in an Irish accent "Let me break it to you, your shit's fucked up."
My initial reaction 'My shit's fucked up?', 'Did he just say that?', 'Surely he didn't just say that', 'What happened to the vocabulary and bedside manner of doctors?'
When he then made noises about examining my colon, if after reducing my intake of fruit and vegetables in the next few weeks didn't make any difference to my excessive flatulence, I decided it might well be another while before I set foot in a doctors practice again. What can I say I feel too young to be prodded and poked and well it can only be a matter of time before everything returns to normal, I hope.
Anyway I'm done now, I've confessed my sins - I'm a hater and a serial farter, its time for me to sign out. A week from now I should be back home for good which should mean no more of me being subjected to Sigur Ros and hopefully the flatulence will have ended by then too but even if it hasn't I should at least become a semi regular blog once again.
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