Diary

I played some Minecraft today without it lagging on my new computer. I was also in the mood to play some Battlefield so I did that too on my old Xbox. At one point I got the grenade button and knife button confused so I ended up throwing a grenade onto a sniper, slitting his throat, and then being blown up by my own grenade. I think that should be the new tea-bagging.

I am da best. I got the missing piece of the puzzle today so I could start building my computer. It’s hard to build a computer with girl hair because it gets in the way. It’s also hard to build a computer when you’ve just gone down to Maplin to buy a fucking dual molex 8981 to 6 pin PCIe adapter for 6 fucking quid because your graphics card is a mother fucker and needs 12 fucking pins of power and when you get back you’re dripping with sweat even though you live about 3 fucking minutes away from the fucking shop but the weather is at least 10 fucking degrees so then you drip sweat all over your fucking computer. Also, midway through while smashing in the back-doors of my case, and by that I mean removing the expansion slot covers, I pushed too hard. While successfully removing the metal cover, I also successfully removed quite a bit of blood from my thumb. I can’t really use my thumb because it was a deep cut. At least I’m a PC gamer now so I don’t need my left thumb to move. I’ll be fine as long as I don’t need to jump.

When the time came to pump up the jam and switch that baby on, it worked, but I couldn’t get into BIOS. I thought I had done something wrong, but the BIOS doesn’t operate with my TV’s resolution. Luckily, I don’t need it so I just popped my disc into the drive and I got Windows 7 in there. I actually achieved something.

My sexy Mum, I mean just my regular Mum because I don’t find her sexy, got a cross trainer today. He was saying stuff like “you’re shit” and “work harder”. Instead of going on my new computer, I helped her put it together, because I am so nice. When are you fuckers going to realise how nice I am, especially the bitches? I gave 12p to a piece of shit homeless scumtramp once. I am nice man. You’re all fucking cunts for not realising.

My new PC is not without problems, though. I am running it on my TV, so a lot of text is too small to actually read. Also, my new GIGABYTE keyboard, which is good on two respects in particular in that it has a mute button and a calculator button which I do actually use, is bad in the respect the backspace button is only one key wide. The return key is massive. I think it’s made for confident people.

I spotted a cat’s head. See if you can spot it too.

It’s in profile.

I saw a fly zigzagging a lot while not making any progress. It seemed stupid even for a fly. It was near where I had lined out the cocaines so I think maybe it had ingested some small particles of it. It probably hadn’t, but it’s funny to think it may have done.

I went back home today. Mum went out so I decided to try my special sherbet, and by that I mean cocaine. I sniffed a bit and I felt quite good but it didn’t seem euphoric. About half an hour later, I had more and finished it off over the next hour hoping it would have an effect but there wasn’t really anything. It was cheaper than the other cocaines on Silk Road so I think it must have been cut quite heavily. It did make my mouth numb and make me feel like I had something in my throat, though, and for the rest of the day I had a blocked nose, but I wouldn’t say that is worth the money. Cocaine is shit and you shouldn’t do it. I’ve heard it’s an acquired taste, which means you have to get addicted to enjoy it. Not for me, though, thanks. I might have had a comedown, but it might just have been compared to the slightly good feeling I may have felt. I would say the comedown is about as bad as expecting a package and not having it show up or as bad as dropping a coin so it rolls under some furniture so you have to try to scoop it out with a stick or rod.

Maybe due to the cocaine, and maybe because I was expecting the missing piece of the puzzle so I didn’t want to be asleep when it came, I stayed up all night.

Which black man sells drugs? Nelson Mandealer. I would have also accepted the answer “all of them.”

I came up with an idea where you could vote for laws on-line and if enough people voted for it, it would go to a real vote on the law. They sort of have it already, albeit in a greatly less effective and cumbersome form requiring you to login in every time you want to vote. People don’t really get any say on new laws and legislature at the moment, which is shame. I think they should have a true democracy and abolish the leadership and have votes all done by computers. There would be no need to have trouble deciding which party to vote for because you just have to vote on the laws themselves. Laws could be suggested by anyone and even kids could vote, because they are people too. I think this country needs a revolution. I’m going to find a Tor site which sells weaponry and buy a gun to shoot David Cameroon in his stupid cocksucker face. Then I will rape his wife while making jokes about their dead son so then I can run the country. If that doesn’t get the country on my side, I don’t know what will.

On the subject of laws, Khat is to be illegalised. Khat is one of the few drugs you can’t get on Silk Road, I imagine. Chocolate makes people obese and die of heart disease. They should ban it, even though most people eat in in moderation. Nuts should be banned because some people have a bad reaction to them. Skydiving should be banned because not only can it be fatal very rarely, but skydiving releases adrenaline in the body. Adrenaline can cause heart attacks. Ban it. Banning drugs is political correctness gone mad.

I noticed that William has done his hair on the cover of his Willypower album like a shorter version of Moss’s from the IT crowd. It might actually be a popular hair style, but I really don’t think it is because it looks silly. That probably actually means it is real. It’s like those half-shaved heads they have nowadays. All they need is the paint and they would have a geek pie. Most of this stuff must start out as a joke. Drawn on eye-brows must be a joke. Within my lifetime, the latest craze will at some point be for women to be bald and have patterns drawn on their head in pen, pencil or crayon. Fucking idiots.

“What imagination.” That was said on the Wimbledons the other day when someone, possibly Jimmy Wang, hit the ball to where the other person wasn’t. A real display of imagination would have been to go on all fours and hold the racket in his mouth while pretending to be a tennis elephant, but instead he chose to hit the ball over the net like a professional tennis player. No imagination at all.

I was trying to have a wank last night in the dark with my iPhone on and some little pervert moth kept trying to see what I was watching (fisting lesbian midgets). I got him on my finger, and he was probably hoping  I would toss him off, but I didn’t and put him in the purgatory between the window and the curtain. That’s where all the poor moths seem to die.

I was cutting down stuff in my Uncle’s garden today with the strimmer. It was boring, but I made it slightly more fun by pretending I was one of those flamethrower armymen in the Vietnam War and that all the blades of Grass were bad Chinamen and I was liberating the place. I think I can make all things more fun by pretending I am involved in a war. The next time I do some work – maybe that thing that I failed – I can pretend I am writing the Treaty of Versailles with lots of clauses saying Hitler is gay so he gets really angry and starts a fight. The next time I am doing a poo I can pretend I am dropping the bomb on Hiroshima. I think a massive poo would have been a better weapon against the Japanese. Being covered in poo is the worst thing ever, and I know because I once lived inside a rectum, so it would have made the Japanese think twice about that time they spunked all over Pearl Harbour… out of their Jap’s eyes. They should have got lots of planes full of little boys to do poos over Hiroshima and lots of planes full of fat men to do poos over Nagasaki. I suppose the reason they didn’t do that is that, judging by their porn, most Japanese people probably like being shit on.

There was a boy in the Bahamas

Who had very big pyjamas

What he did was rather silly

He called them sausage and meatbeall Milly

My Dad said Bahamas and pyjamas don’t rhyme, but they do so he is a fool. It’s a poem I wrote when I was much younger than I am now. It is dripping with hidden meaning. The meaning is so hidden I didn’t even realise it when I wrote it. The Bahamas is a cryptic name for a group wishing to destroy the Hamas terrorist people (Bar Hamas). It is also having a go at Muslims because it has “bar” in it and Muslims aren’t allowed to drink alcohol. The big pyjamas are Palestine, which is big. As he is against Hamas, he is a Jew so it means he should have Palestine. Then it says he did something silly. The name he called “them”, meaning the Arabs, is offensive because none of that lot over there can eat pork, which is the main ingredient in sausage and meatballs. The boy in the Bahamas is also implying that Hamas are the male genitalia, which looks like sausage and meatballs. “Milly” is a derogatory term for a Muslim.

I think the way to sort out the whole Palestine issue is to give everyone one month to move out and then do a Chernobyl there so it is uninhabitable. Then, whoever wants to live there can have it. My other solution is to just kill all the Jews and Muslims. Hitler had a go with the Jews but didn’t have the bottle to continue with it and ended up topping himself like a pussy. When I do my genocide, I’m going to see it through to the end. I might do a Jenocide where I kill everyone called Jen. I only know one person called Jen, and I fancy her because she is female, so I might spare her if she is prepared to have sex with me. I could destroy all Xbox Threes and Playstation Fours. It would be the next genocide.

Pa and I went down to the Iceland to get some shopping for Nanna. Nanna has a cold so she doesn’t feel like going out. In the Iceland, just as I was thinking a Toblerone could be used as one of those dividers at the checkout, an old man tried to use the Toblerone of the person in front for that exact purpose. It was all sorted out in the end, though.

I was up late with my Dad tonight. Not in that way. I suggested we play Othello thinking he would say no but he said yes so we played Othello and then poker and then chess. I won’t say who won at all of them, because I don’t even consider it a victory. It’s like winning a fight against a toddler ant. Dad suggested we play chess to lose and I said that was impossible. Then we tried to play without pawns, and that was just as bad. We called that game a draw in the end because we just had a few pieces left each and neither of us are good enough to win like that. We played Blackjack, or Pontins or something as he called it. He was bragging that he always wins. I said it was luck and he said he had to decided whether or not to stick or twist, which is like someone saying that monopoly isn’t luck because they roll the dice in a special way.

I did a date rape today, and then I mugged a mango. A lot of people say that you shouldn’t make jokes about rape because rape isn’t funny. I agree that rape isn’t funny, so that’s why you have to do a joke about it so it becomes funny. With most jokes, the topic alone isn’t funny. It wouldn’t be funny if a comedian came up on the stage and raped a woman in the same way it wouldn’t be funny if a comedian came on stage and changed a lightbulb. Admittedly, in that second case it probably wouldn’t be funny to do a joke about it either, but the point still stands. “There are more guns in America than people, but apparently there used to be more people.”* That is a joke about death, which is worse than rape. Therefore, that joke is more offensive than any rape joke.

* The Armando Iannucci Shows – Episode 1 (ISBN:4)

I woke up at about 16:50 today. That is my new personal best. I went to bed at 6, which isn’t even that late. That’s the only thing I actually did today.

What do you call a German comedian in a pasture full of trigonometric functions? Jerry Sinefield. I would love to be a stand-up comedian in America where most of the show is taken up by people clapping. People even clap in movie theatres over there. Have you seen that? Why are they clapping? The actors aren’t watching it with you. It’s not a play. Who are you clapping, the man who sits in the small room and plays the film? That is me doing my American comedy routine.

I’ve noticed a growing trend in video games is the slowing down of time. All Rockstar Games games seem to have it now. It started with Max Payne and then RDR had it. GTA V is going to have it too. I saw a clip of Watch_Dogs in which time was slowed down and you can also do it in Vanquish. That’s not that many, but it does seem like it is a growing feature.

I thinking I have found the weirdest person on any banknote ever. It’s Taras Shevchenko from off of the third series Ukrainian 100 Hryvnia note. It’s like his face stopped growing when he was 5. Due to the Ukraine being shit, there aren’t many famous people to put on banknotes, so Taras also appeared on the second series 100 Hryvnia note. From this image of him later in life, we can see that his head never stopped growing. That haircut he’s got really isn’t helping, though. I did some research and I found that his head actually continued to grow after he died. He is the only man whose gravestone is his own forehead.

Jeremy Forrest is going down for noncing up that girl. I think one of the perks of being a secondary school teacher should be that every year you get to have sex with one pupil. Jeremy Forrest is not a paedophile. Jeremy Forrest is just a normalphile. If you’re a man and you wouldn’t have sex with a 15-year-old, there is more wrong with you than if you would. As a protest against my good friend Jeremy’s sentence, I am going to go to Spain and have legal sex with as many 13-year-old whores as I can. That will probably prove a point or something.

I don’t understand metaphor any more. “They OC like a monster.” What does that mean? OC means to overclock – I understand that bit, but do they OC well or OC badly? Maybe it’s less of a metaphor than I think and when they OC, they come out from under your bed and then punch you in the face like a monster would.

Another thing I don’t understand is why people get tattoos and say it is a means of self-expression. It could only be self-expression for the tattooist doing it. It would be like a piece of paper saying it’s expressing itself if someone wrote  a story on it. Just because you’ve chosen what to have drawn on you doesn’t mean you are expressing yourself. If you chose to read a book, that wouldn’t mean you have expressed yourself. If you want to express yourself, do that tattoo yourself with a scalpel. The real reason you have tattoo is the same reason you have pierced ears and funny hair – it’s because you’re a freak.

In the news there’s some little deaf kid whose got a hearing aid or something. I think they should have waited to give him a new sense so he appreciates it more. At the moment, he is too young to really understand how amazing getting a new sense is. Deaf people can live in society normally and because he’s been born like it he won’t miss hearing, so there is not much of a setback to not give him the sense now. I think they should wait until he is old enough to ask for hearing because then he would really be amazed. Maybe that happened to me and people are waiting for me to ask for a new sense. I want my new sense now please. Stop keeping a sense from me please. If I do get to have a new sense, please could I have the sickth sense which lets me know if I am actually going to be sick or if I’m just retching. My sickness from a few days ago is mostly better now, thanks for asking. My nose is still dribbling a bit and I have had slight headaches, but nothing too bad. I tried to have a very tiny bit of special sherbet but it got stuck on the mucus up my nose so I will have to wait until I can try it properly. It did make me sweat a lot more than usual and made my nose go numb, though. Back to the video, and there’s a good part at the start when the little deaf kid’s dad says “We’ve had Grayson since he was a baby.” That’s generally how kids work. I’ve never had a kid, but as I understand it, they come as babies and then they level up a bit and evolve and become adults. Maybe it works differently for little deaf kids; maybe they come out as just a pair of ears as an ironic joke from God, and then baby develops between them. That’s the only explanation I can find to stop the man who said it from being a dickhead.

I was thinking about stories and how it’s weird that people want to know how a story ends even though it is fiction. If, for example, a story ended on a cliffhanger in which someone possibly dies, one would probably want to know if he or she dies or not, even though you could decide yourself whether she or he does because it is fiction. It’s a bit like how people say that art exists to make you think. You don’t need art to make you think. I don’t know about you, but most things are able to make me think. Sometimes I even think without meaning to. To save money on art galleries, they should just have a Web-site or book or something where the artists write which topics they want you to think about and then you think about them. I will do that one day and call it art and people will think it’s really good and they’ll be fucking idiots.

Expensive art is shit anyway. The works of all famous painters are only popular because they are famous. They are essentially famous for the sake of being famous. If you really think about, nobody in any media job is skilled enough to be famous. Most likely, there will be thousands of people in every field who are just as good as the people most famous who should also be famous, but that would make everyone famous and therefore nobody famous. The people who go to art galleries and look at the kind of paintings that a stillborn baby could do would probably scoff at the The Only Way Is Essex show or the Kardashian people for being shit, but even those fucks could probably do half the shit in most modern galleries. Art does make me think. It makes me think about killing myself. First, I would like to see all the pricks who have art hung in an art gallery hung in an art gallery. That would be art. The World is turning to AIDS and I hope I’m dead before it finally implodes into a sea of shit.

Another thing while I’m on the subject of shit that pisses me off, who the fuck is this Peggy slag they keep mentioning before game videos? They don’t even know how fucking old she is. She’s always 3 or 15 or some shit like that. I wish they would shut up about her.

In happier news, viagra is going down in price. This is good news for all men like me out there.

The case for my new computer came today. So far, I have assembled 100% of my new computer. If I put it where I want, I realised I would need a 3.5mm jack extension lead for my earphones, because I sit 3.5mm too far away.

The Summer Solstice, or as I call it, the Bummer Soiledtits. Bummer Soiledtits is a homosexual. He lives in a World where there are very few men so he soils women’s breasts using his dirty anus and then gets a titjob from them so he can pretend the breasts are buttocks and that he is having sex with a man. You might think that only a closet homosexual could think up such a concept, but it is actually a man having sex with a woman. Who is the real sicko now? Still the closet homosexuals – not because you are gay, but because you should come out. If there are any gay people who haven’t come out yet reading this*, I will help you come out by bumming you in front of all your friends and relatives. It will be a coming out party, or as I call it, a cum cumming out of your anus party, or as I call it, a bumming trout party. I’m not even gay, but I believe so much in gay rights that I will have sex you if it helps. I am also a great fan of lesbian rights and pornstar rights and ladies with big breasts rights.

I might go to prison for that, because that was supply of some Class-A comedy.

I was on Omegle looking for some little kids to take the piss out of to make myself feel better and I noticed this:

Sign the petition against US government spying!
Edward Snowden is a true patriot. God save America.

I thought Omegle were against an authority listening to our calls and watching our moves and just generally snooping on everything we do… It’s about that new PRISM they have now. It kind of looks like a rip-off of that Echelon they had a few years ago. I don’t remember voting for that*². I think it’s just an incredibly immersive advertising campaign for Watch_Dogs. I think the best way to counteract PRISM and all that shit is to have a new p2p internet using mesh networking. I think that for it to work, all data transfer would have to be wireless because wires can more easily be blocked than a signal. A mesh internet, or Intermeshernet as I think it will be called would be really slowly to start off with, but if everyone did it, it would work. Some people say that PRISM and related ideas are a good thing and that if you have nothing to hide, there is no problem. To the people who say that, I would install a camera in every room of their house. If they have nothing to hide, they should be happy to do that. As a test to see the effectiveness of PRISM, I will state my intention to commit a terrorist atrocity on a scale never before witnessed. I will simultaneously detonate a series of nuclear explosives located in the World’s major cities. I estimate the death toll to be in the region of 4,000,000 and the financial damage to be unquantifiable. The bombs have already been planted. All I need now is to wait for the right time to strike. If this PRISM system is worth anything, I will be stopped… If a series of bombs do go off tomorrow, it genuinely wasn’t me.

A computer, keyboard, mouse, power supply, etc.

* (e.g. Richard Hulm, unless you have already come out. There is no way you’re straight. How many women have you had sex with, Rich? More than me. More than 1? Didn’t think so. You don’t read this anyway. Not even PRISM read this. We’ll get to that later.)

*² That is an in-joke just for you Roy… as if anyone else reads this shit anyway.

I decided to get a gaming PC today because I’ve really been getting into solitaire. I thought I’d have a go at assembling it myself. It can’t be that hard. One guide on-line suggested that I don’t do a static discharge on the computer, but that makes me sound like a Pokémon or something. I was surprised by how cheap it seemed. It would be gauche to say how much it cost, but it cost £750. That doesn’t include a screen though because I’m going to be pumping out visual on my TV.  The only reason I bought it is so I could list the specs, which is what we in the business of computers call computer specifics, at the end of every post.

On the subject of computers and, more specifically, them being fucking slow with rendering, I did a little video to one of my little songs. I don’t want to damn my own work with faint praise, well I actually do, but I can’t. The video I have created is shit with no artistic merit whatsoever. The music’s alright, though.

Asus P8Z77-V LX Motherboard (Socket 1155, 32GB DDR3 Support, ATX, Intel Z77 Express, USB 3.0, CrossFireX Support, Dual Intelligent Processors 3), Corsair CMZ8GX3M2A1600C9 8GB 1600MHz CL9 DDR3 Vengeance Memory Two Module Kit, Coolermaster Elite 361 Mini Tower Case for PC – Black, Intel 3rd Generation Core i5-3570K CPU (4 x 3.40GHz, Ivy Bridge, Socket 1155, 6Mb L3 Cache, Intel Turbo Boost Technology 2.0), TP-Link TL-WN781ND 150Mbps Wireless PCI Express Adapter, Asus HD 7870 AMD Radeon DirectCU II Graphics Card, Microsoft Windows 7 Home Premium with Service Pack 1, 64-bit, English, 1 Pack, DSP OEI (PC) (This OEM software is intended for system builders only), Toshiba DT01ACA100 1TB SATA 6GB/s 7200RPM 3.5 Inch Internal Hard Drive, Corsair CMPSU-430CXV2UK Builder Series CX430V2 – 80 Plus Certified Power Supply, LiteOn IHAS124-04 24x SATA Half Height Internal DVDRW Drive – Black, GIGABYTE GM-M5050 USB Curvy Optical Mouse (Black), Gigabyte GK-K6800; USB; QWERTY; 205 x 467 x 31 mm; 854 g; -5 – 40 °C; 35 – 85 % (GK-K6800)

I had a cold yesterday. My head really ached and my nose was running. I would have written it about it then, but I got excited and posted about some other shit. When I’m at my Dad’s and can’t post every day because of the North Korea-style lack of Internet, I take a bit of artistic license with my diary and sometimes spread things out a little better so the entries are evenly balanced. Considering most of the things I write are just about bumming babies or shit puns, I don’t think it matters. I’m careful not to write about actual events happening on different days, though.

James Gandolfini died tomorrow. It will be a shame because he was good in Lord of the Rings.

I got my grades for my modules. I failed the one I thought I would fail. It involved a report. I can’t write a report unless it involves shitting on a skeleton, but my lecturer didn’t approve of using that scenario as my opening paragraph. Now I have to write two 2,500 word reports. That means this summer I’ll have to write about 3,500 words on a subject about which I have no interest. Product design is shit. I should have just got a job.

Instead of writing those reports and inspired by yesterday, I wrote a short story (ISBN:4). It always seems pretentious when I try to do something serious. I think that good supernatural fiction should ask more questions than it answers.

Continuing in the “Books at my Dad’s” series of articles (ISBN:4), one is called Stories of the Supernatural (ISBN: …3). One story within which looked incredibly boring so I had to read it was The Vertical Ladder by William Sansom. It was also quite short. Now, I’m not a man who usually shits himself, and today was no exception. Old Billy Sansoms seems to think a vertical ladder is supernatural. Long story short – a boy is dared to climb up a VERTICAL LADDER on the side of a big gas holder. There are some “SISSY STAIRS” but he has to climb. He has to use a DIAGONAL LADDER to get onto the VERTICAL LADDER because the lower rungs have gone. He does it despite being scared but about halfway up his so-called friends kick away the DIAGONAL LADDER making it a HORIZONTAL LADDER and begin to walk away, meaning he has to go all the way up. He has a flashback about some water which I didn’t really get. As the lad nears the top of the VERTICAL LADDER, he realises that the top few rungs aren’t there so he doesn’t know what to do. The fucking end. What part of that shit is supernatural? Billy Sansom is a prick.

There are six other stories in the book and I can only guess, or read, what they are about. The Willows by Algernon “Spadeforest” Blackwood is about a boy who is dared to climb some willow trees. He remembers some water and then when he gets the top, the bottom of the tree has been cut down and the top blows off in the wind so the boy is stuck on the tree. The Dancing Doll by Gerald “Wan” Kersh is about a boy who is dared to dance with a doll. The doll is animatronic but the man who created it died… in some water. Sir Dominick’s Bargain by J Sheridan “Le Fanny” Le Fanu is about a boy who is dared to become the rent boy of Sir Dominick. Sir Dominick negotiates a deal with the boy so he can do a golden shower on him. The Cocoon by John B. L. “Ball Licker” Goodwin is about a boy who is dared to eat a cocoon. He eats it, and the next night, he dreams he is on a lake and there are lots of moths flying about bothering him. He wakes up notices a single moth on his window. It looks disappointed with him. The Madwoman by Gerald “Bellend” Kersh is about a woman who is dared to pretend to be mad. She pretends to be mad so well that she becomes mad. There is some water. The Fly by George “Anal Angel” Langelaan is about a fly who is dared to go in some water. It goes badly for him.

I read a bit of the Willows story. It has one of best endings to any story.

…the body had been swept away into midstream and was already beyond our reach and almost out of sight, turning over and over on the waves…

The story does not end there. In what way was the body turning on the waves?

…like an otter.

I decided to read the The Dancing Doll because it sounded genuinely creepy as if it was a tale about a creepy marionette. It isn’t. Leonardo Da Vinci is talking to the young Duke. The young Duke’s son has got swamp fever from drinking dodgy water. It doesn’t say, but he probably was dared to do it. To occupy the son, Leonard makes a little doll out of maggots for him. The Duke is also concerned about a battle where the enemy has set up camp across a river. Leonard tells him to walk along the bottom of the river with tubes. This wins the Duke the battle. At the end, Leonard is about to invent the submarine but is busy with other work. THAT IS NOT FUCKING SUPERNATURAL, GERALD. The maggot doll is a bit creepy, but is essentially no different from making a leather shoe. There was nothing in his story that was at all scary. It’s probably not Gerald’s fault. The real cunt of it all is Betty M. Owen who selected the stories. The M in her name must stand for massive stupid bitch. She doesn’t even know what supernatural means. I am glad she is probably dead by now. I wish I could dig up her rubbish coffin and crack it open and then shit all over her skeleton so it has all shit on it but then the shit forms flesh and she comes alive but then I kick her in the face and her head comes off and then I piss on the shit so she melts away and she says why and I say it is because she is a cunt and then she goes to Hell. That would be a supernatural story.

I’m always relieved on Father’s Day when I don’t get a card in the post. It means that either I don’t have kids or they don’t know I am their father. I don’t need some wanky little kids running about and impinging on my busy schedule. I shouldn’t really worry because I have never had sex with a lady, but it’s possible that a platoon of my little sperms, knowing that I will never have sex, have evolved wings and are launching a series of aerial attacks on the eggs of unsuspecting women. If my DNA is found anywhere, especially a crime scene, the winged sperm thing is how it happened.

My Dad didn’t like his present. Turns out he actually wanted a Zippy from Rainbow lighter.

Spaces on the end of lines really annoy me. Currently on most programs, when a word goes right to the end of the line and you then do a space, it is lost so you’re left wondering about whether or not you’ve actually done a space. What’s that all about? I think the spaces should go down to the start of the next line so you can see how many you’ve done and then one should disappear when you type an actual character. On the scale of annoyance from 0 to 10, with 0 being a wonky painting and 10 being AIDS, I would rate the space lost in space issue an annoying 1.3. AIDS does get a bad rep, though. The way I think about anything like AIDS so it doesn’t seem so bad is that some of the people it kills deserve it, and any straight white people that die from it are acceptable collateral damage. If I get AIDS, I definitely deserve it.

Today is Friday, or as I call it, Stephen Fryday – a day in which I do lots of Stephen Fry stuff, like going on Twitter and getting bummed. I think I should become a gay man because I can just be the wound and let someone else be the knife. That would solve all my problems. I am so bad at sex that I should be on the sex offender’s register, but what can go wrong when you just have to lay there? Ideally, I would be in a BDSM relationship with a woman with a strap-on where I was tied up and had no pressure to do anything. I’d rather have sex with a woman because having sex with a man is a bit gay.

I went down the town with my Dad to buy him a Father’s Day present. I was going to get my Dad a bracelet, but all those in my price range were all to girly, even for a man who wears bracelets. My Dad decided he wanted a Zippo lighter instead. An old man in the keycutting shop was talking to me. I don’t like it when people talk to me because I am no good at conversations. I got him a lighter and then we went home. Normally when I am buying him a present, he’s not there, but neither of us wanted me to buy him a bracelet he didn’t want.

I went on down to Ol’ Poppa Pearsall’s place today. I have a book here about writing letters called Letter-Writing (ISBN:4) by David James, who I formerly only knew as the second best footballman goalkeeper of all time, after David Semen. I thought the book might give me an insight into how to write a love letter. I’ve never written a love letter, and I thought that if I did one and made a few copies, I could hand them out and maybe eventually get to spunk all up in a lady. If you had the same idea, David James’s so-called Letter-Writing doesn’t cater for you. As such, I would only give it 5/10, or 1/2 to simplify. I have heard that the bitches love comedy, so I turned to one of my joke books, but the jokes aren’t good enough. I thought I might try to write some better jokes:

Jokes are much harder to make than they look.

I have been playing Bitcoin poker. Poker is good because, as a Rainman, my odds are slightly better than just luck alone. I can count cards. It’s not that hard because there are only 52. Because I’m not a very good Rainman, I won about six pounds and then lost it all. I prefer on-line poker to real poker, because with my rainmanity, I can’t bring myself to shuffle the cards.