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» Social Media Meltdowns

My friend 'Rob' (which actually is his name, I'm going for the double bluff) suffered an unfortunate sequence of events that led him to hint in his Facebook update that he was going to kill himself. His girlfriend had left him, his Crohn's disease was flaring like the sun, and worst of all he was a Proper Ginga. Born that way.
The hints of suicide started about 2AM, grew steadily more blatant, and around 5AM he swallowed a mixture of massive and legal drugs, and signed off with a quote. "Goodbye, and thanks for all the fish!"
Amidst the worried messages was this priceless gem:
"It's 'So long, and thanks for all the fish.' Get it right."
(Thu 20th Jun 2013, 16:28, More)

» Brain Fade

Same bloke
His name is Matthew. He is simultaneously the luckiest and unluckiest person I know. He either possesses a charming level of gullibilty or conveys Jedi mind trick powers to anyone he holds a conversation with. Last year he crashed a plane into a field and walked away unharmed. Not even a bruise.


Class 9E exit the classroom in an orderly fashion. Entropy increases. One boy steps on another's shoe from behind, prompting jostling and ear-flicking as we maraud down the corridor to the Doors of Escape. The weekend is here, the sun is shining, it's a beautiful day outside, and some of us want to get back home to play Team Fortress on our PCs.

Matthew increases his pace as he reaches the doors, no doubt wishing to keep his heels healthy. He turns the handle, and begins the normal exit proceedure as detailed in the forthcoming health and safety government manual about safe passageway through doors. He steps out into Freedom, having barely slowed. He's almost out.

His mistake? He forgets to let go of the doorhandle. Somehow. Imagine Superman flying backwards, feet first, wearing a green blazer and a terrified expression on his face as he flows gracefully through the air to hit the concrete cushion below.

How do you forget to let go of a doorhandle?
(Thu 21st Mar 2013, 12:47, More)

» Bad gigs

Gig in the Netherlands
2006. Hawkwind, Orange Goblin, a few other bands were playing, so I decided to tag along with a few people for a trip to Amsterdam, then travel to the gig. Wonderful city if you're an aspiring junkie.

We arrive. My friend is stopped at the door. Accusing fingers are pointed at the lunchbox he's carrying his hash brownies in. Several security guards loom large. "NO FOOD! NO FOOD! NO FOOD!"

"Oh, er, um, sorry, these are hash cookies, i thought..."


We did.

Edit. Who cares about the bad gigs?
(Wed 31st Jul 2013, 12:06, More)

» Driven to Madness

The Subject Of The Post Is Something That Drives Me Up The Wall
Why Would Anyone Do This? It Is Far Easier Not To Do This. It Is Quicker And More Efficient Not To Do This. Rage Is Not A Strong Enough Word To Describe What I Feel When I See This. Murderous... Yes, I Like Murderous To Describe It.

In all other ways, she's a perfectly lovely girl, and my vices exceed hers by a factor of thousands.
(Fri 5th Oct 2012, 4:33, More)

» Sexism

History is a lie
They would have you believe that Man was the hunter, sent to kill the beasties and warr with neighbouring Man. That Women were the homemakers, the childbearers. That sociological changes recently (i say recently....) have brought upon us a different way of being.

This is a lie.

Man used to have a good lie in, until Woman woke him up and kicked him out, nagging him until he 'got off his lazy ass' and did something. Man meets up with fellow men, shares jokes, admires the latest bling (shiny new axes, pebbles, strange yellow goldish looking thingies) then legs it out to the bush before Woman can summon him back for chores. The rest of the day would be spent drinking and fighting with fellow Man, until happily stumbling over a dead possum that would do for dinner.

When he gets back to the cave, he is moaned at for forgetting the sugar.

Some things never change.
(Tue 5th Jan 2010, 13:43, More)
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