Thoughts for the day

And we had our first warm up in the Marsh Harier

Which is a good solid British pub.  This time we wrote a proper hard one.  And it told, a bit of moaning but over all was pretty well recieved, so next week a dumbed down version at the City for the Students.

Gutted

Somehow the heater on my aquerium has been turned up. Boiling all my tropical fish.  I’m absolutely devistated.  The house fucking stinks.  And at least one of my lodgers has sat in the living room, wathcing Telly whilst they were dying, through the smell - actualy sat next to the smell.  How the fuck could you miss it?  Tell me please?

Decision time.

I now have to question whether or not I should keep fish.  Somehow I turned the heater up, and I don’t think I deserve to keep them right now.  some of those fish are were 4 years old.  I’m welling up right now. What do you do when something like this happens?

Laters,

Chalkster :*(

Strangely

I’ve developed a much better understanding of the life of postmen, having just become one on a six month contract, to quote q well known and loved children’s program; just call me bob. I’m sure that over the course I will indeed write about it.  Needless to say, there is a little bit of poor management and a lot of stupid people in and around!

Ranty-Poosy

Right then a friend who will for the moment remain nameless, but for the sake of this argument be called ’space alien’ and NOT the J one, no the Jerico one - so he could be called ‘J’ but that space alien tittle is kept for my space alien friend in Newbury, Bless him.  So I’ve never known a nearly 50 year old, living their own without supervision be so naive!  No really, I could write pages and pages on his stupidity, however that is for a nuver day.

Go on…

Well this one is about gay marriages. Now I’m not gay, that’s something I should point out.  I’m aware that I can be a little bit camp, especially when directing ‘Darling’.  But not gay. I have no problem with gay people or gay couples.  In fact it is this that has made me do my rant.  I was out with a gay couple last night, who are my very dear and trusted friends.  They happen to be two of the most trustworthy people in the world and I thought to myself last night, what great parents they would make. This brings me up to somethign that ‘S.A. of Oxford’ said to me…

Yes?

Well, it was about the reason that the Church/religious leaders could not/would not believe in same sex marriages. Not because they physically can’t have kiddies, no it seams that under the right situation adoption is possible.  But according to the aforementioned, the child could not get a well balanced upbringing, which he believed was so important, as do those people that dress up in dresses on a Sunday/Friday and every other opportunity.  Which is in my opinion ‘bolocks’ quite frankly.  What about those who only have one parent? those who have no parents? Surly the only important thing is that they have a balanced loving upbringing with good [hopefully not to faciest] caring parents.  Quite frankly who gives a fuck what sex they are?  In fact this could be better then old parents [they could die!]? Or termly ill parents?  Handicapped parents?  Honestly some people make my fucking blood boil.  The silly fucker.  You have to ask ‘did you listen to yourself when you spoke?’.  I wont go on!

Laters

Chalkster

Jesus I’m Fucking Fed UP!

With the girls down the roads gaggle of mail friends, otherwise known as “Hooded Wankers“! The girls are unlikely to be over 15, well the older one is not. I know their dad/step dad and he is a top bloke. I even look after their house when they are in deepest France. Alway worth a bottle of wine. But, and I hate the ‘but word. unless it refers to a ladies posterior. Then I like it. On this occasion it’s a really big but [and there is no good big but, really! and I don’t like big buts when they refer to ladies bottoms].

The Girls Down The Road?

Ah, yes: they have hoodie friends, mail friends of lots of different colors [nothing wrong with that], but they all want to be gangsters. Bloody loud bastards as well, with their hoddies over their hats and a swagger like they have a pine needle in their shoes… Oh and trousers down as far as any self respecting toff Oxford brooks students. Now I know I’m going to sound old, but we used to hang around somewhere dangerous and out of the way of street lights and our parents or neighbors houses, but not these sorry lads. No they hang outside my bloody house, swearing and spitting and listening to music on the loud speakers of their chavey mobile phones. They are not annoyed by my vicious looks, though the odd dowsing with the get wash does seam to upset them somewhat.

Oh and…

Fuck me are they thick, I mean really thick, they all talk like footballers! ‘Know what I mean, in it?’. In what you stupid looking fucker? I’m sure If I were a parent I would be sadly disappointed by my daughters hanging around outside with such twatty friends. You would at least think they could find some people that have a level of personality surly? Either way, the gist is that it’s upsetting everyone that lives up the road, and mum and dad, whom I actually like, don’t seam to give two flying fucks.

In a perfect world…

I could give ‘em a clip round the ear, and when they went home and told their dad he would say ‘He dun Right’, beat them with his razor sharpening belt thing and chuck em into the coal cellar for 40 days without drink or food. What is this world coming to?

Here endith the rant.

Laters,

Chalkster