Friday, May 28, 2004
RANT(S) OF THE DAY:-
1)Jamie Cullem, obviously - as discussed satdee night, whatever next, Jamie in dredds and sequins leathering the piano with a pickaxe handle before pouring petrol over the thing and torching it. Next Nigel "mockney" kennedy or whatever his name was, u know bloke with the violin.
2)Me. Nearly killed myself on the rowing machine in the gym burning off two pints worth of calories.....then went and had them (and their friends).
LYRIC OF THE DAY:-
If you hate me why dont you go
If you love me why don't you let me know
But you won't give me an inch so
You just sulk
Why do I want to hide whenever you show up
You know your moods just make me wanna throw up
Why don't you just bloody well grow up
And don't just sulk
If you love me why dont you show it
If you hate me why dont you let me know it
Why dont you just pick up something and throw it
No, you just sulk.
(Billy Bragg)
GIBBER OF THE DAY:-
Bonjour tout le monde, je suis avec enfant. Or similar gallic baffonery.
Stayed in a b&b last monday and tuesday in Lytham, Lancashire. The place was like a retirement home, I'm sure some of the residents had shuffled off their mortal coils during the afternoon but had been sellotaped to their chairs to make the place look busy. I couldnt sleep on the 1st night cos i couldnt stop thinking how many people must have passed on from that very bed.
Tueday was the best though, they had a crooning club singer on singing frank sinatra badly while some of the old birds did a geriatric riverdance, well, more of a zimmerdance really.
No, it was quite sweet really, nice to see old folk having a laugh. I can see Jerome and Shoogs doing Take That in some dodgy guest house in Bognor a few short years from now.
I have decided to take out a writ against that moving finger that kiam bloke was banging on about. He seems to be on volume xiv while I'm still trying to work out what Dramatis Personae means. Or, put more simply, didnt work out with Lara, shame, nice girl.
Hope everyone has good weekends, sorry Matt and Marv if I was a little tipsy satdee, oh and sundee. Shoogs booze ce soir dans le kite?
All hail to the mighty apple. You know this talk of an extra bank holiday, we should have a cider day where everyone drinks Stowford Press til their legs dont work, then sit down and drink some more.
POOP POOP
Sorry, got a tiny hangover, well, it was thursday
Love and hugs
Dan
1)Jamie Cullem, obviously - as discussed satdee night, whatever next, Jamie in dredds and sequins leathering the piano with a pickaxe handle before pouring petrol over the thing and torching it. Next Nigel "mockney" kennedy or whatever his name was, u know bloke with the violin.
2)Me. Nearly killed myself on the rowing machine in the gym burning off two pints worth of calories.....then went and had them (and their friends).
LYRIC OF THE DAY:-
If you hate me why dont you go
If you love me why don't you let me know
But you won't give me an inch so
You just sulk
Why do I want to hide whenever you show up
You know your moods just make me wanna throw up
Why don't you just bloody well grow up
And don't just sulk
If you love me why dont you show it
If you hate me why dont you let me know it
Why dont you just pick up something and throw it
No, you just sulk.
(Billy Bragg)
GIBBER OF THE DAY:-
Bonjour tout le monde, je suis avec enfant. Or similar gallic baffonery.
Stayed in a b&b last monday and tuesday in Lytham, Lancashire. The place was like a retirement home, I'm sure some of the residents had shuffled off their mortal coils during the afternoon but had been sellotaped to their chairs to make the place look busy. I couldnt sleep on the 1st night cos i couldnt stop thinking how many people must have passed on from that very bed.
Tueday was the best though, they had a crooning club singer on singing frank sinatra badly while some of the old birds did a geriatric riverdance, well, more of a zimmerdance really.
No, it was quite sweet really, nice to see old folk having a laugh. I can see Jerome and Shoogs doing Take That in some dodgy guest house in Bognor a few short years from now.
I have decided to take out a writ against that moving finger that kiam bloke was banging on about. He seems to be on volume xiv while I'm still trying to work out what Dramatis Personae means. Or, put more simply, didnt work out with Lara, shame, nice girl.
Hope everyone has good weekends, sorry Matt and Marv if I was a little tipsy satdee, oh and sundee. Shoogs booze ce soir dans le kite?
All hail to the mighty apple. You know this talk of an extra bank holiday, we should have a cider day where everyone drinks Stowford Press til their legs dont work, then sit down and drink some more.
POOP POOP
Sorry, got a tiny hangover, well, it was thursday
Love and hugs
Dan
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
RANT OF THE DAY:-
The larger ladies who will insist on wearing crop tops that show off the generous midriff. I'm fat and would you really want to see my cider-swelled belly eh? I suspect not.
SONG LYRIC OF THE DAY:-
So set em up Joe
We're gonna have a drink tonight
We're gonna drink until the morning light
Gonna drink until our lives seem right
We'll be drinking to all our friends, and hope it never ends
We'll be asking if the answer lies within,
The last glass in this bottle of Gin
(TMTCH)
GIBBER OF THE DAY:-
Right kids, I've developed a new theory. You know some people say that you only have a certain number of heartbeats in a lifetime - elephants have about 1 a minute and live to be really old, and doormice have about a thousand a minute and they die after about a year etc etc - well thats rubbish. Its all about piss. The new theory runs thus - you only have a certain amount of urinations in any one lifetime - for example, I drink lots and lots of cider, go for lots of wees and feel like I'm about 107 years old. WHO could depute such a well thought out theory.
Anyway, science aside for the moment.
The whole ex-bird extravaganza now appears to be back within sane perameters and we're are all the best of friends as ever we all were.
A wise old fella once said:-
The moving finger writes and having writ moves on
Nor all your piety nor wit can lure it back to cancel half a line
Nor all your tears wash away a word of it.
Wise words, cant remember who it was , either Omah or Victor Kiam. One was a great eastern philosopher type bloke, the other had hairy nostrils and did the TV adverts for the Remmington Micro-shave (shaves as close as a blade or your money back).
Hvae been out with the lovely Lara for a drink a couple of times and am going out again with her on Thursday. This will no doubt be a disaster and she will never want to speak to me again, but one must try these things.
Oh well, bored and busy so back to work!
love and hugs
Dan
The larger ladies who will insist on wearing crop tops that show off the generous midriff. I'm fat and would you really want to see my cider-swelled belly eh? I suspect not.
SONG LYRIC OF THE DAY:-
So set em up Joe
We're gonna have a drink tonight
We're gonna drink until the morning light
Gonna drink until our lives seem right
We'll be drinking to all our friends, and hope it never ends
We'll be asking if the answer lies within,
The last glass in this bottle of Gin
(TMTCH)
GIBBER OF THE DAY:-
Right kids, I've developed a new theory. You know some people say that you only have a certain number of heartbeats in a lifetime - elephants have about 1 a minute and live to be really old, and doormice have about a thousand a minute and they die after about a year etc etc - well thats rubbish. Its all about piss. The new theory runs thus - you only have a certain amount of urinations in any one lifetime - for example, I drink lots and lots of cider, go for lots of wees and feel like I'm about 107 years old. WHO could depute such a well thought out theory.
Anyway, science aside for the moment.
The whole ex-bird extravaganza now appears to be back within sane perameters and we're are all the best of friends as ever we all were.
A wise old fella once said:-
The moving finger writes and having writ moves on
Nor all your piety nor wit can lure it back to cancel half a line
Nor all your tears wash away a word of it.
Wise words, cant remember who it was , either Omah or Victor Kiam. One was a great eastern philosopher type bloke, the other had hairy nostrils and did the TV adverts for the Remmington Micro-shave (shaves as close as a blade or your money back).
Hvae been out with the lovely Lara for a drink a couple of times and am going out again with her on Thursday. This will no doubt be a disaster and she will never want to speak to me again, but one must try these things.
Oh well, bored and busy so back to work!
love and hugs
Dan
Thursday, May 06, 2004
MARV IS A GENIOUS
RANT OF THE DAY:-
1) People who say persons when they mean people, its chinese menu speak and frankly wrong. 'yes, i had two persons around for dinner last night and what wonderful persons they were two'. There's signs on the buses that not only say seating for 36 persons, they also say room for 16 standees. Who or what a standee is I'm not sure but I'm fairly sure it isn't a word, and if it is it shouldn't be.
2)£1.69 for a bag of spinach.
Song lyric of the Day:-
Too much time to stop and think
Too much money spent on drink
Somehow someway
I missed my day
Don't you ever get sick of feeling sick about it
(Voice of the Beehive).
gibber of the day:-
Oh marv how right you were, I have been on that magic swirling ship, I've been an astronaut in cider space for much of the last weekend.
You'll love this
I spent friday night in the hare until 5 to 5 having a rant, then went up goldury with a bottle of cava to watch the dawn on me own (turned out to be may day as well I found out afterwards), From where I staggered to the cemetery around 7 to have a chat with me dad. I vaguely remeber being incensed because there was moss on his lettering, so I took off my shirt and cleaned the moss off with it. How proud my father would have been looking down and seeing his son sat on the cemetery bench, sporadically passing out, top off, flagon of scrumpy clasped desperately in his right hand. Oh dear
More later
Cheers kids
RANT OF THE DAY:-
1) People who say persons when they mean people, its chinese menu speak and frankly wrong. 'yes, i had two persons around for dinner last night and what wonderful persons they were two'. There's signs on the buses that not only say seating for 36 persons, they also say room for 16 standees. Who or what a standee is I'm not sure but I'm fairly sure it isn't a word, and if it is it shouldn't be.
2)£1.69 for a bag of spinach.
Song lyric of the Day:-
Too much time to stop and think
Too much money spent on drink
Somehow someway
I missed my day
Don't you ever get sick of feeling sick about it
(Voice of the Beehive).
gibber of the day:-
Oh marv how right you were, I have been on that magic swirling ship, I've been an astronaut in cider space for much of the last weekend.
You'll love this
I spent friday night in the hare until 5 to 5 having a rant, then went up goldury with a bottle of cava to watch the dawn on me own (turned out to be may day as well I found out afterwards), From where I staggered to the cemetery around 7 to have a chat with me dad. I vaguely remeber being incensed because there was moss on his lettering, so I took off my shirt and cleaned the moss off with it. How proud my father would have been looking down and seeing his son sat on the cemetery bench, sporadically passing out, top off, flagon of scrumpy clasped desperately in his right hand. Oh dear
More later
Cheers kids
Monday, May 03, 2004
Hey Mr Daniel Bashford
Have a rant for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey Mr Daniel Bashford
Have a rant for me
And take me back to Hendred
Take me disappearing through the cider of your mind
Past the foggy ruins of time
Past the archaeology
The cider-ridden dreams
The Lord of the Rings
The stuff Miles Hunt sings
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrows
Yes to dance upon the very top of Goldberry Hill
Having paid my bar bill
With West Hendred waiting still
And the lights of the Hare
With all my people there
Silhouetted on the Downs
With our history around
And a friendly ditch waiting to fall into
Hey Mr Daniel Bashford
Have a rant for me
In the cider-mangled morning
We'll come hassling you.
(apologies to His Bobness)
Have a rant for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey Mr Daniel Bashford
Have a rant for me
And take me back to Hendred
Take me disappearing through the cider of your mind
Past the foggy ruins of time
Past the archaeology
The cider-ridden dreams
The Lord of the Rings
The stuff Miles Hunt sings
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrows
Yes to dance upon the very top of Goldberry Hill
Having paid my bar bill
With West Hendred waiting still
And the lights of the Hare
With all my people there
Silhouetted on the Downs
With our history around
And a friendly ditch waiting to fall into
Hey Mr Daniel Bashford
Have a rant for me
In the cider-mangled morning
We'll come hassling you.
(apologies to His Bobness)
