b3ta.com user Grokthought
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I'm a writer of sorts. I'm Glasgow born, Hampshire raised, and now live in Southern California.

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» I'm going to Hell...

A Poem (Inspired by Bazmorningstar)
When I was a lad around two months or more,
I had a strange skill that I had not before.
I lay in my cradle 'til one fateful day,
when my mother had changed me, and then gone away,
to pick up some Pampers from the room perpendic'
I discovered this fantastic, wonderful trick.

I lay on my back, and with all of my might,
I opened my legs and spewed forth the shite.
It covered the walls, the windows and then,
It wasn't done there, for again and again,
The orangey muck that, in bowels babies make,
Was spread 'cross the carpet like a dropped pasta bake.

'Oh no!' cried my mother in woe and disgust
For my mother hates even the presence of dust
'This mess will take hours to clean and shampoo!'
Why couldn't you have waited 5 minutes to poo?
This is the first reason I'll be sent to Hell
And it's a good thing my mother has no sense of smell.

True story.

I fancied writing a poem. I wish it had been about something other than poo, though.
(Tue 16th Dec 2008, 4:34, More)

» Mistaken Identity

Since becoming a Yank, I've adapted a somewhat Southern Californian accent. So when I called my mates at New Year, they asked, to my surprise "Oy, Veovis! What the fuck was that last call about?"
I explain that this is the first time I've called, because the rates for an O2 mobile in San Diego calling any mobile in the UK is roughly £1.50 per minute.
"No, you called about 20 minutes ago and started mouthing off Britain!"
It turns out that someone else named Veovis with a pseudo-Yank accent called them pretending to be me.
Dunno why... who'd want to pretend to be a 19 year old greasy pale virgin?*

*has since been cured of this affliction.
(Sat 2nd Jun 2007, 9:00, More)

» Stalked

We called her The Beaver
Because she looked like one. Not a young lad in shorts and a green shirt, I mean an actual beaver. She had buck teeth and crazy cat lady hair. She wore an anorak all year round. She tried to find out everything about me by asking my friends, my form tutor, anyone I shared classes with, my sister, etc. When she found out I was born in Glasgow she started talking in a mock Glaswegian accent to the point where words just slurred into each other.
Beaver would try to "bump" into me in the school corridor, "accidentally" touching my rude bits. My friends were quick to catch on, even saying every time they saw her "Awww, she loves you, Veo!" Eventually I left school and thought I had left Beaver behind me.

But no. Beaver had found out which way I walked home from college.

I remember one such day when I was walking down Archer's Road in Eastleigh, down to cross that stepbridge that's been on the news recently. She was walking the opposite way. Archer's Road is quite long, probably about a third of a mile. As soon as she spotted me I saw her hand shoot up to her mouth. Was she... yes. She was rubbing her hand on her lips. I walked further, wondering what the hell she was planning. As I got closer she started to rub her tongue and lips across her palms with such ferocity she must have cut her gums up.

I tried to look forward and pretend she wasn't there. As I approached nearer and nearer I could hear her going "nomnomnomnom". Major alarm bells and warning systems should have been ringing. If this were the Enterprise, the crew would be falling all over the place. As I finally passed her, I realised what she was doing. It was too late. Her hand shot into my right cheek, only just missing my mouth with her Slimy Beaver Spitslap.

It gets worse. I was walking around town and popped into the Game Exchange with my friend Alec**. There was Beaver. She comes right up to me, hopeful gleams in her eyes and says, "It's my sixteenth birthday." Quickly I responded: "Just cause it's legal doesn't make it right!"

Crazy person.
I seem to attract the crazy types. It wouldn't matter so much if they were at least good-looking.
(Fri 1st Feb 2008, 9:44, More)

» Stupid Dares

A girl in school once dared me to let her peg* me. We were 14. My reputation at school was so low that if I had done anything it'd be public knowledge, in the local papers, etc.
I wimped out. Sure, I'd get to say I'd had anal sex with some girl in the year, but come on. That's just not right.

*When a female wears a strap-on and buggers a male up the arse.
**It would be at least partly true.
(Tue 6th Nov 2007, 5:51, More)

» Mistaken Identity

Oh, god... loads.
I've been mistaken for most of the cast of the Harry Potter films. In school people thought I looked like Neville Longbottom (and for good reason. I kind of did.) When I moved from Southampton to California last year, people thought I was Ron Weasley because of my long hair, "english" accent and the fact I say "Bloody hell" quite a lot. Despite the fact my hair's not ginger, I'm Scottish and I weigh about 14 stone.
Also, I've been told I look like the blond twunt from Busted and the other one from McFly.
The fact I'm a guitarist doesn't really make it better. I used to get teased a lot after bringing in my guitar to school, whereupon people would do the shitty jumps (which are quite hard to do while playing).
I've also been mistaken for some American Idol winner called Clay Aiken at the shops.
Also; Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite, Napoleon Dynamite, Johnny Tambourine from Saul of the Mole Men, David Tennant(!).
Either I'm a Time Lord and I've used a shitload of regenerations without realising, or people are stupid. Probably the latter, not so much the former.
Length? Girth? Bloody hell.
(Sat 2nd Jun 2007, 7:03, More)
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