Diary

I tried to watch the film Reeker on-line because there was a funny bit where a man only has half a head. I came across this. It’s the full film with a foreign man translating it doing all the voices in the same tone regardless of who is speaking or their mood. It is weird. I didn’t watch the whole film because of my ADH.

It is annoying how people say that if you run a company you should hire black people, but when I do, they say that slavery is racist. They are hypocrites.

I bought loads of fruit today. I bought some oranges and some green apples and some red apples. I thought that green apples were just a legend told by my Nan, but Granny Smith apples really do exist. In the red corner were royal gala apples. Royal gala apples are a bit less sharp. That is my apple review.

I was thinking about coins and how it would be good to remember the Queen after she died by having her face on the coins in various stages of decomposition. I think that would be a fitting tribute to her. Even though the Queen is really famous now, after she dies, she’ll just become another dead monarch, whereas celebrities like Albert Einstein or Bernard Manning will be better remembered when they’re dead. It makes you think.

I notice someone called Ibrahim Ali has been killed, in 1995 that is. I was researching people who had died who weren’t that famous but who are still famous enough to be known today and found out that someone called Ibrahim Ali was murdered in France in 1995. Someone called that was killed recently. It is definitely a conspiracy, even though it is probably a common name and the events happened 18 years apart. I choose to believe.

I learnt about gear cutting at uni today. Apparently, you should cut it with dried leaves so you’ve got more to sell. This week seems to have gone really quickly. Maybe I entered a LTA (localised time anomaly) which changed perception of time. That stuff is bullshit so I don’t believe it, though. Although it may seem good for the week to go quickly, it just means I am closer to death. When I die, I intend to come back as the new messiah and bring an apocalypse to this Earth, so you’d better watch out.

Ant update: I haven’t seen any ants lately. I did have a flying ant crawling on me, but it was only one, so that’s alright. I had a little beetle on me as well. I’m fine with individual insects, but I don’t like gangs of them. Insects definitely fancy me.

Respect your elders. People often say that, but there a lot of people who are older than me who don’t really deserve respect. Robert Mugabe, for instance, is a prick. They don’t call him MUGabe for nothing. I don’t think he deserves respect, but an elder has said I should respect him, so I do. Robert Mugabe is a great man, even though his name is an anagram of tea mug robber. I had tea with him once, and he gave the mug back, so those accusations are unfounded. People who tell you to respect your elders are implying that you should disrespect your youngers. I don’t agree with that, but I have to do it because an elder told me to and I respect them. I think that little cripple kids should have the wheelchairs taken away and be made to crawl. If anyone listened to me, I would give the advice: respect everyone, regardless of their age, except Robert Mugabe. I found a silver necklace the other day at uni. I handed it in because I respect whoever lost it, even though they are a fucking idiot. How do you lose a necklace?

Today was the greatest day ever. Nah – Nothing happened. I bought a can of No Fear energy drink. There was a bit of fear when I bought it because on the can was depicted a skull with wings; it gave me the willies, but I overcame my fear and drank it anyway. It wasn’t that nice. Well done to them for having a go, though.

Meet the most advanced iMac yet. I don’t know why Apple are sending me stuff about hair remover. Maybe they realise that I need a haircut and a shave and a pubic trim. I thought I had about 400 cocks the other day until I didn’t wee out of them. A cock is just like having a little vagina on the end of a big finger, and a vagina is just like having a Fleshlight where your cock should be.

Some knob’s been bombing stuff. At current count, three people have died. That is a shit bomber. He can’ t even bomb properly. I am fairly sure that if I was going to plant a bomb, I could easily kill more than 3 people. It is good how most of the terrorists in the Western World are shit. 9/11 was successful, which proves that if you want a terrorist atrocity, you should do it yourself. I am saying that the US government did it. There was a series of bombings yesterday that killed 32 in Iraq. That’s OK, though, because they are probably all Muslims. People should be rewarded for killing Muslims, and all religious people. Killing a religious person is essentially just sending them to paradise faster, so you are doing them a favour. You are also doing the atheists a favour so they don’t have to deal with all the mental illness involved with religion.

In lighter news, I got a woman’s number today. A lady came in from the IED and spoke to us. At the end, she gave out business cards, so I got her number and e-mail address. That still counts. It would have counted if it actually happened, but I didn’t take a business card because I would never need it. Business cards sound like the shittiest version of Top Trumps ever. Mrs IED kept trying to be funny but really wasn’t, even for a woman. I was funny, though. We had to draw a pig and I drew one “in it’s natural habitat: the sandwich.” I also came up with an idea for a cop show called T with Sugar, in which Mister T leaves the A-Team and teams up with Anal Sugar. They go about firing people and pitying people. Mister T could be in a show of his own called T with milk, in which he plays his BA character who really liked milk.

My class of 3 dozen all graduated today. It was really hot in there, being 36 degrees.

Old Justin Biebers has put something offensive in Anne Frank’s Guestbook. To be fair, there must have been worse things in that guest book:

You weren’t in today, Anne, but we will be back tomorrow. Signed: The Nazis, 1945

It is my life’s ambition to write something more offensive than what Justin Biebers wrote in Anne Frank’s guestbook. It shouldn’t be hard:

I was deeply moved by this tribute to a great girl. Best wank I ever had.

Well done lads, you got her in the end.

Anne Frank was a filthy Jewish whore who deserved to be killed and Hitler was a great man.

I know Anne Frank was, at maximum, only 15, but I would have. If I could go back in time, I would kill Hitler and then bang Anne Frank. That would give her something to write about. It would be a good ending: “And then I had sex with a time traveller.” If I travel far enough back in time, I can make that the traditional ending to all stories. The story of Cinderella would be much better if it ended “And then she had sex with a time traveller.” It would be better for me, anyway. I think the line may have limited use considering it doesn’t really fit within the narrative of most stories. Something like “And then they lived happily ever after.” would be much better. If I ever travel back in time, I will try to make that the ending for all stories. Wish me luck.

Old Eddie Millibands has hurt his wrist while hillwalking. Hillwalking. Walking up a hill. Walking up a hill isn’t a proper activity. Walking up a hill is a subset of walking, which isn’t an activity. It is a thing. Hillwalking is just mountain climbing for pussies.

Some of you may have found parts of this offensive. I would like to say there is a point to it, but there isn’t. I do think Hitler was a real tit, though.

I got some cream slices for diner today. They were almost a full red on the Sainsbury’s wheel of quality. The salt content was only orange, though, which is a shame. They tasted nice, but just crumbled as soon as I applied any force, which is what North Korea will do when I go there and kick King Kong-Un in his stupid fat Chinese face. There are more serious issues, though, like that advert for headphones that you can’t even skip. That probably wastes about 1 minute of my valuable time each day. That may not seem like much, but if you add that up over a whole week, I suppose it’s still not that much. Regardless, I don’t want to buy your shitty headphones. The last pair I got cost £5. Can you beat that? No. I was looking for some new earphones or headphones because one half of my current pair was vibrating a while ago. That seems to have stopped now, so maybe it was just baby ants living inside it, dancing to the music. That would seem unlikely.

Nothing happened today so I wrote lots of shitty animal puns, but it would be really out of place to have a long list so it’s an article instead.  It was much better when I got humiliated every night. While doing the jokes, I realised that collective names for animals are just made-up, moreso than the animal names themselves. Therefore, any group name is correct. I was going to do a list of them here, but that would once again be better as an article, so I’ll do that some other time. That way, it may also be sourced and considered valid. One day, 100 hundreds years from now, you may hear the phrase “a buggery of apes.”

There was a note in the kitchen saying ant powder had been put down. I didn’t want this. This is genocide. I know I was saying I didn’t like the ants, but they didn’t know any better. Bless you, ants. Blants. One day, I will set up a sanctuary for all the ants were they can roam free from persecution and the prejudices of this so-called land. All I ask is that they share some of their honey with me. Wait a minute. That’s bees. Ants don’t make anything. Ants do fuck all. Fuck the ants, the cunts. They come in here, drinking my spilt orange juice like wankers and they don’t even make honey with it. The little shit pricks should fuck off outside and stop leeching off me. They’re cunts and I hate them and hope they all die… It is a shame that the society in which we live would mostly condone such statements about ants, but would react differently if these comments were about women, even though they are essentially the same. Women can’t make honey, just like ants. Women hang about with other women, just like ants (most ants are female). If you gave a woman another two pairs of legs, I’m sure she’d just walk around illogically just like an ant would. The only way an ant and a woman differ is you’d never find a woman in my room.

I went on a 5 mile walk, stopping off half way to collect some John Michael Jar records. I got all sweaty and my thighs chafed.

Why I don’t exercise

I started watching Kentucky Fried Movie, so I could be the new Robert Eggbert*, but I found it to be shit so I stopped watching. I watched I’m Gonna Git You Sucka instead. It was pretty good, and that is high praise considering I am a racist.

In the film the Sixth Sense, what exactly is the sixth sense? If it is the ability to see dead people, that should come under sight, which I believe is already a sense. Anyone can see dead people, though. All you have to do is kill someone, and then look at them and then you have seen a dead person. I have never seen a dead person, so maybe being able to see dead people really is another sense. If it is the sixth sense, then surely being able to talk to and hear dead people would be the seventh sense. In one of the deleted scenes, the little boy chokes on Bruise Willies’ cock and says his spunk is brackish and his cock smells. This shows that the little boy can feel, taste and smell dead people, making these the 3 more sense. Due to this, I conclude that the film should be called: The Sixth, Seventh, Eighth, Ninth And Tenth Sense, In Addition To the Regular Five Which The Boy Still Has. Also, Bruce Willis Is Dead.

*What’s the difference between Roger Ebert and a Steven Spielberg film? Jaws.

The ant situation is ridiculous. After my 14 hour sleep from about 6 last night when I intended to just have a nap, I woke up to find about 20 ants crawling about on my bedside table. They were lapping up a patch of orange juice that had dripped down the carton from which I had been drinking. I don’t like killing ants, and there was no way to pick them all up at once so I had to throw them all out individually. Ants are rubbish insects because they can’t even fly. Ants are pants.

Why the fuck are there so many ants here? Barely a day goes by when I don’t see an ant on the bathroom wall or crawling about in my room. Fucking ants. They should go back to wherever they came from. There were about five coming out the overflow hole in the kitchen sink.

Margaret Thatcher has died. She’ll be up their now, mending the roof.

It was the day to test our product design boats. I couldn’t be bothered messing about with my engine thing which probably wouldn’t work so I just whacked a sail on it. The wind died down when it was my turn to test it so it didn’t work. Loads of kids were looking and I nicked one of their scooters and messed about on it for a bit but he made me stop. It was a day out, if nothing else.

27/03/2014 – I am from the future and I realise that the Margaret Thatcher joke is similar to one Tim Vine does. I’m fairly sure I didn’t deliberately copy him. Maybe it was subconscious.

Wassup niggaz. I finished my assignment due in tomorrow. I spent the whole day on it, and by that I mean I spent the whole day with it open as I did everything except work on it. I started to buckle down at 11 and finished when the time struck 1. I’m not sure how well I’ll do because I used the word grippage and I got a bit sarcastic in the conclusion:

The results may or may not be reliable, but fortunately, the mechanical properties of most materials have already been calculated and tested under much more rigorous test conditions than the experiments in this report and can be found in books or on-line. As such, if a material selection is required, it would be well advised to refer to published figures rather than resort to possibly unreliable and inaccurate testing conducted personally.

It’s not even sarcastic. Our other assignment is about a hole punch. I don’t know why we have to learn about violent fisting; I know all about that anyway.

I went up to Derby in Derbyshire today, stopping off in Bedford on the way. I got my turntables and a few records. A lot of it is by those rap singers you see nowadays. I had a go with the turntables but I am one wire short of being able to do it properly and I broke one of the stylums while trying to make it less crackly. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to scratch properly, because I am terrible at co-ordination, but I can type pretty fast, so maybe I just have to practice.

I had to go out with my Mum for a meal. It was an Oriental meal. Luckily, there wasn’t any chance of any of my mates seeing me out for a meal with my Mum because the place was slightly out the way, and I don’t have any mates. I had pork in barbecue sauce and I ate all my bean sprouts because I’m a big boy. I went home and did a bit more scratching, because my head itched. Ah.

I had to get up at nine to see a man at 10. He bought me a milk in the coffee shop and gave me £20. On the way back, I bought some vinyl to spin on my future decks. That means I bought some massive piece of plastic to play on an outdated medium. The best one I bought because of the cover was “I CAN’T HELP IT” and “LET ME KNOW” by Junior. Presumably what he can’t help is looking like a sex offender. I wouldn’t have said that, but he wanted to know. I think the cover of the next Musical Showcase might be me on a bike.

I did a buy on eBay for a couple of turntables so I can have a  go at scratching. I recorded the Casiotone MT-800 EP today. It is the worst one.

Roger Ebert died. All he did was watch films and then say how good they were. What kind of a life is that? 2/5.

I’ve formulated a little theory about David Icke. He is obviously a wind-up merchant. His name is D. Icke. Can you see what that spells? Exactly. Even if you say D. Icke aloud, it sounds like dyke. I think that D. Icke is a lizard man who wants to see the destruction of humanity by tearing us all apart in a witch-style lizard hunt. I don’t think that, because that would make me mentally ill.

I really want to have sex with an ant. Sometimes, I just search stuff like that on Google to see if anything interesting comes up. It never does. I have a patch of dry scaly skin on my finger. I pulled a bit off and now it stings. I hope I am not becoming stone. That would really hinder my product design career if I was entirely stone. It might be good to have a stone hand, though, so I can punch through walls like the Hulk.

I went to my Dad’s again for a few days. I have an assignment due in on the 8th and I think I should start it soon, but it’s really boring so I’ll just do it on the 7th. If I leave it to the last minute, I am less likely to get distracted.

I have AIDS. April Fools. Unfortunately, I am writing this on April the second, so I have actually got AIDS. Only joking – I have never had sex with a man or an African so I couldn’t have AIDS.

I read that they have cut down the time taken to travel to the International Space Station to 6 hours by travelling along a new route. What route had they previously been taking? Had they been stopping off at the moon on the way? There aren’t any routes in space. All you have to do is aim the space rocket slightly in front of where you’re going like on Space Invaders to allow for space effects and then hit the launch button. It’s not rocket science.

I recorded most of my ARP Quartet EP today, apart from a few tracks which I redid tomorrow because they were clipping really badly, and I did a few more at this time. While researching the EP, I realised that the rainbow is the sign of the homos because a rainbow is bent. If there was a symbol for the straightlords, it would have to be something in nature which is straight, like light, but light is invisible, which shows that straight people should be exterminated. It seems a bit unfair, but it’s what nature intended. Scientists years ago actually managed to stop photons, apparently. While stopped, a force could theoretically be applied to the photons which would change their direction, effectively bending light. Theoretical physics is really just glorified science fiction.

Is it more heroic to risk your life for one person or several people? I would say it is most heroic to risk your life for two people, because if you save one person and die in the process, you may as well not have bothered, but if you save two people, you have a net S/D spread of 1. I think lower is more heroic. That is something for you to ponder, or just to ignore.

I recorded a duet today of the Proverb and BassStation. It is an homage to moths.

Why do some men sound really gay? Is the stereotypical gay voice only possessed by those suffering from homosexuality, or are heterosexual men with that voice just really unlucky? If I ever get time off from my busy schedule of masturbating and crying, I will attempt to answer these questions by means of an experiment to find out whether the gay voice, or the “accbent”, is just the propensity of the gays. I will go up to people who I overhear that sound gay and ask them if they are gay. If they say yes, I will believe them, but if they say no, I will kidnap them and bum rape them to see if they get an erection. I’m not gay, though.

I saw a film which I thought was called The Trainspotter today. I was looking forward to a film about a man looking at trains and cataloguing them, and the prejudices in society about such a hobby, but it was it was just some thing with Jason Statham in as a delivery man. I was very disappointed.

I recorded my Realistic Concertmate 460 EP today. It’s not as good as yesterday’s. Listening back to them, though, they never sound as bad. I have another keyboard at my Dad’s which is a really shitty piece of AIDS. It can only produce one tone – a horrible screech. It would not be pleasant to listen to anything played on that. It’s an Akita Model: TY something keyboard. I noticed someone selling one on-line for £25. That is ridiculous. It would be worth a couple of quid maximum.

I recorded my Casiotone 610 EP today. It is one of the better EPs. That’s mostly all I did. Not having the Internet is actually a bad thing. Now I know how cavemen felt.