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Topics - Payne

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1
The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Attn: Roger
« on: April 27, 2013, 08:24:03 pm »
Roger.

I have returned. It is a new dawn, a new day.

Please Holy Nametm me.

While you're at it, could you do a new displayed name for me too? I am bored of everything I've thought of.

I know I'm being lazy, but  I need effectiveness and I know you are dependable in regards to maximum effect.

In return, I will give you the pint of Boris Johnson:


2
Of the end times it is written that there will be rivers of blood and you'll be able to see up Auntie Mabel's skirt as she is lifted bodily up to heaven and that God will fuck off and leave the righteous sinners alone for a thousand years to get their freak on, get their freak on get their get their get their freak on before coming back and cock slapping us all back to Calvinist Heaven (aka Catholic Hell).

It is written.

But words on a page lack that certain je ne sais quois that one finds in the words of the teeth and of the belly. The problem, you see, is seeing. Seeing is believing, and belief is a terrible idea. "Seeing" is your brain masturbating itself with logical and experiential paradox, and won't even let you remember it in the morning because it's so ashamed.

The internet lends itself so well to this circumstance. There is all here, in the crazy twilight fringes of human consciousness that spreads itself out by all means expedient, even the artificiality of a series of tubes streaming a series of ones and zeros to a series of credulous and hungry others. There's a grey goop out there already after all. It's last years stew that you keep throwing left overs into that in theory if you have the ladling skills of Constance the Ninja School Dinner Lady you could pull whatever meal you want out of. In reality it's an indistinct and frankly disgusting amalgam of all of our bits of throwaway consciousness.

Other things have been written of. The Lost Highway, a purity born of sterility and fear and undying hatred. The Lost Highway is even more lost to me now than Curly.

We wrote of prison cells and shiny golden balls. We wrote of Diabeetus and Assburgers and Jenkem.

It was written, and it was True.

But no, the True Story of End Times come not from the pages of the ever maddened mooks and mayhem as once I believed.

I know now that they are spat out in retching all too human semi digested rivers of bile and poison. They are left in the gutters to attract rats and bankers and other vermin. They are visceral and have meaning only while your oesophagus is squeezing them up in the precise reverse process by which sausages and laws are made.

The end times are yours to tell of, and if you'll excuse me I need to go brush my teeth with an Oxford English Dictionary. I think I got a few past participles and some stray gall flavoured grammar stuck up my gums.

Payne out.

3
Or Kill Me / Hi
« on: June 23, 2012, 09:07:37 pm »
Goddammit, I'm here again.

Not PD (though also PD) I'm in that place where you look around and everywhere you see the sleaze. Hell, I even saw Obamas face fall off earlier. It was for a good cause, but shit, no one needs to see that.

It was just hanging out. It was disgusting.

Anyway, Obama made me think of Cameron. Like he does. It's like Bush always made me think of Blair. And Cannon always makes me think of Ball, or and Jimmy Krankie always makes me think of Margaret Thatcher, or whatever that other Krankies name was.

Here's a man who since day one has come across as slimey as that shit I cleaned out the bottom of my fridge the other day, and about representative of the country at large as that same half rotten salad. And now we've allowed him to take over.

The proportion of women in parliament is going down (I hope I never have to hear him nudge and wink his public shool fag [as in the English schooling system position, read about it] and say "That's what she said", but really I'm preparing for it). And I think he may well be the worst cronyist I've seen in parliament in a long time. And our only hope is Ed "Whodat? Milliband.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNG

The meat bags around here are starting to annoy me. They're all up in my grill with their vague pinky outlines, all the time. ALL. THE. TIME.

Thank fuck I can never see their faces...

4
The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / What if....?
« on: November 16, 2011, 07:08:55 pm »
If TGRR was a furry, he would be a giraffe and he would braid his ass hair into a tail.

If Kai was a furry, you'd totally get eaten in the yiff pile.

If Twid was a furry, he'd be a leprechaun. A gay leprechaun.

If Hustle was a furry, he'd accidentally the whole atlantic with supra-whale semen.

If Luna was a furry, she'd sex humans and scream "BEASTIALITY!" at the top of her lungs at inopportune times.

If Coyote was a furry, he'd call himself Man. He's an enigma like that.

If Charley was a furry, he'd probably be quite good at it.

If Cram was afurry, he'd wear a fake fursuit.

If TTM was a furry, he'd be illegal in all 50 states, not just the lower 48.

if AKK was a furry, he'd be an alley cat and he'd have a record deal by now.

If Aini was a furry she'd be a black swan. No wait, she'd be a cat or neko or whatever the fuck it was.

If Anna Mae Bollocks was a furry, people would begin to wish Dubya was still president.

If BadBeast was a furry, he could stop being the Beast of Bodmin for a while and let someone else have a go.

If Paes was a furry, he would be bred into the natural sheep population of New Zealand to form slightly less boring sheep.

IF BGP WAS A FURRY IT WOULD BE MOST UNHELLO, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOO

If Cain was a furry he'd be the horse from Animal Farm.

If Cainad was a furry, he'd be sniffing the glue they made out of Cain.

If cavehamster was a furry, I'd think he was a pretty cool furry. He'd run in wheels and doesn’t afraid of anything.

If chef was a furry, he would advise people to bring a baggie for their fangs, and he'd BE the teddy for their ghetto shrine.

if Cuddlefish was a furry, his name would be a verb.

If Da6s was a furry, he would be worshipped in backwater hamlets all through the Pennines.

If Dalek was a furry, the party in his pance would migrate all through his fursuit, and he'd die within seconds.

If Darth Cupcake was a furry, she'd still be gone :cry:

If Demolition_Squid was a furry, everyone else would be forced to go the level beyond furry to ostracise him.

If Disco Pickle was a furry, he'd have to be wolf. No funny reason. He'd just be a wolf. An asshole wolf. Asshole.

If Dok Howl was a furry, he'd immediately construct an upgraded exoskeleton and fuck the biggest thing he could find to death.

If Phox was a furry, she'd have to wear a human face. Being human IS furry to her.

If James Semaj was a furry, he'd be a complete C.Woc

If E.O.T. was a furry, there would be no point to it anymore. The world would automatically suicide via vulcanism.

If EoC was a furry, people would just assume that things had gone very very wrong in the circus as Clown Eating Hate Sex became all the rage.

If Efrim was a furry, he'd still be a bad ass hippy.

If Emo Howard was a furry, he'd be Eeyore.

If Enki was a furry, we'd have to send him back in time to properly inspire The Epic of Gilgamesh

If Enrico was a furry, people would hardly be able to tell the difference.

If Faust was a furry, he'd be a gay leprechaun too. He'd be a top though.

If GIGGLES was a furry, he'd be a swarm of angry hornets flying in phallus formation.

If Hoopla was a furry, no matter what kind, people would mistake him for a Koala.

If Hunter S. Durden was a furry, he'd be a rabid battle llama.

If Iason was a furry, Indiana would commemorate the most exciting thing to happen to their state ever with a public holiday.

If Iptuous was a furry, he'd win best dog in show at crufts for the rest of his unnatural disgusting life.

If Jenne was a furry, all of PD would go to jail for very long time. We wouldn't be able to help ourselves.

If Joh'Nyx was a furry, he'd be a toy poodle.

If Khara was a furry, she'd be composed mostly of alluring, lingerie clad tentacles.

If Leln was a furry, she'd never leave the house again.

If LMNO was a furry, he'd.... Wait? IF?

If Madigan T Nubilous was a furry, he would fap so hard it'd make people think of Noahs Ark, where Noah just fed them Viagra instead of food.

If Nast was a furry, he'd be.... uh.... A MOUSE.

If Navkat was a furry she'd fucking everybody. In a good way though.

If Nigel was a furry, people would call it art and everyone was really a furry would have to go do something else.

If NoLeDeMiel was a furry, it might make people notice him more.

If P3nT was a furry, Falkirk would be declared a disaster area. It is anyway, but it'd be official

If Pixie was a furry, I'd totally be a furry too. I'd probably have no choice at all in the matter mind you.

If Pterodactyl Handler was a furry, he'd be redundant.

If Regret was a furry, he'd only join in to snake yiff piles.

If Remington was a furry, it would cause a brief news sensation in North Korea.

If Richter was a furry, he'd be a rancor.

If RWHN was a furry, people would pet him but he'd never get any.

If Freeky was a furry, people would merely blame Tucson and shake their head. She could get away with murder with that excuse yanno.

If GARBO was a furry, she'd be a furry handcuffs.

If Sepia was a furry, he'd be an infinite number of monkeys with typewriters.

If ShoeEars was a furry, he/she couldn't have asked for better advice than getting Roger to do his/her personals ad.

If Squiddy was a furry, she'd probably get confused for her cat and be driven mad by people saying SORRY TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR PENIS

If SisterFracture was a furry, she'd bend yuor space/time. Again.

If Suu was a furry she'd accidentally herself among the mothballs.

If Telarus was a furry, no one would take it seriously.

If That Green Gentleman was a furry, she'd be the Cat with the Hatchet

If The Wisdom Cube was a furry, it's Other Fursuit would be a Porsche.

If Triple Zero was a furry, you'd be choking on tribble cum dribble by lunchtime.

If Fred was a Furry, she'd be released by a madman who would then kill himself and she'd go on a rampage with her exotic friends until taken down by the cops.




5
The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / ATTN: KILLJOY
« on: October 12, 2011, 02:01:13 pm »
I hate you!

Love and Kisses,

Your New Spiritual Advisor,

The Good Reverend Payne

6
Or Kill Me / The Importance of Being Earnest II
« on: September 19, 2011, 05:43:12 pm »
So Pixie and I are talking about these guys from "Whale Wars", an animal planet show about these Greenpeace+ types, who are docked in Southampton this week and will be visiting our incredibly nice but vegan flatmates for a party on Saturday night. Like any good flatmate (or concerned flat sharer) would do, I decided to watch the first episode of this show.

Now don't get me wrong I like whales. They're good people. However the entire episode that I watch reeked of earnestness. I will watch more, but I think I can only do one at a time. Pixie, oddly enough, feels exactly the same (seldom do our TV tastes converge so well). So it sets us thinking - have we discovered the one thing that defines the soul of PD, where we both think this ultimately comes from?

Think about it:

"PD is a place where those who cannot stand too much earnestness will feel most comfortable."

Is a pretty neat one sentence summation of what I think PD is to everyone else. And all our biggest shit fests break out when someone or other gets too damned earnest about something. We hate The Right and The Left for this. The Fundies and The Dawkins Fanbois. We especially hate it in pinealists and our own.

However, do not read this post wrong - I am not saying to stop being earnest. All I'm saying is it's a pretty powerful weapon round these here parts.

7
...of what I've been working on the last little while, the Holy ScriptureTM Roger wanted me to compose after my Holy QuestTM. The idea for this came to me during my caffeine and other substances withdrawl. I've been shaping the idea ever since and today I wrote down the first lines (which will most assuredly be edited all to fuck in time).

So here it is, the first bit of part one (the Proem in the genres parlance).



   I ask, oh muse, you sing of Lexakles
   the Blueshifter and belov'd of Eris.
   Brought to Illiam by Discordia
   who laid 'pon him proud elucidation
   as in his heart he knew not who he loved.
   Speak then of him coming near from afar,
   of great conflict and destinied balance.
   Tell of the trials he tested, triumph
   in Trojan, Greek and in Eris' name
   so doing in wearing glory and fame,
   to stand before bittered foes, Lexakles!
   Jester to a king who hath not a throne -
   Become grave man of great spirit a'fire,
   Builder and razer, poet'cal liar,
   A warrior skilled, strifing discord blows,
   Final to trickster whom contention sows.
   All this, and more did The Blushifter wring,
   to sing of his song is life to my lyre.
   When all glory is dead and heroes, gone,
   lord Lexakles will be gold gainst our brass.
   In balance, in truth, in beauty withal
   conquering madness, deceiving the fall
   of humans who know not the truth most foul.



I intend to continue working on this as and when I can, and further parts will probably be thrown down in literate chaotic.

8
BEHOLD!


9
The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Paynes List of Things:
« on: September 29, 2010, 08:40:37 pm »
Doktor Howl,
All the other Doktors,
Everyone else who posts on PD,
Everyone else who doesn't.

That is all.

10
Or Kill Me / The Smile Sermon
« on: September 14, 2010, 09:31:56 am »
being an impromptu sermon in open bar that I was originally loathe to remove from it's context. Having reflected on it more I decided to give it a new home. Enjoy.

Happy Wednesday.
Today will be better or I will kick it in the FUNT! THE FUNT!
I'm going to make my coffee and then sit on my butt some more. Yeah.
This Friday is Mr Squid's b-day. We're gonna go see the Edward Gorey exhibit at the art museum and eat frozen yogurt. Later, dinner at a Pho place with our friends.

I will not let my job get to me today. I will smile and ignore the fact that I want to kill everyone I work with. I will smile. I will smile.

I've seen your smile.

I have seen your smile. I've seen it before on many faces and in many places.

It's the kind of smile that involves mostly teeth. The lips, usually more given to a plump and fleshy arch, resemble a rictus. Hold firm, that you do not allow movement to cause irreprable damage to your facade.

It's the kind of smile that never truly reaches the eyes, at least not in the unconscious sense of muscles arranging themselves like so many eels over the orb of hardened and largely dead bone we entrust the day to day safety of our brains to. No. If it reaches the eyes, it's by more malevolent and rationalised ways.

It's that kind of expression you will see on the hedge fund manager's secretary as her boss opens the windown, 24 floors up, and prepares himself for the final crash. And she wills the bastard tyrant on with a will bordering on the physical. It's the kind of shit Goya used to paint on his walls, but seen from the other side.

People will see it and hurry by. They will take the superficial politeness and avoid looking deeper. There are things, Squiddy, things under that rippled surface that man was not supposed to have knowledge of. And sure, you can hold that smile for a day. For a week. For a month. But it will end. Something will crack it, and the sheer horror of the collapse will unleash something terrible and dark from behind your brain cage. From behind even your brain. From somewhere so deep that imagination is enough to cause you vertigo.

The witnesses will talk e'ermore about the laughter, Squiddy. And they will shudder as they contemplate the depths from which it rose. They'll buy a ticket to anywhere. Perhaps to Tucson...

11
To The Human Resources / Recruitment department,

My name is The Good Reverend Payne, and I am writing in regards to the position
you advertised in a realy obscure corner of a recruitment website. It seems a hundred people have managed to find and apply for it already, and I am number one hundred and one. Apparently there are enough desperate plebs that even obscure corners are panned out long before even someone as asiduous as myself can copy paste a standard cover letter and CV onto an email addressed to you. By the time you read this, your eyes are bleeding and whatever compassion you've had for your fellow man is long dried up. Either that or you're an emotionless automaton. Hey, it happens.

I am really wanting to get a job. Not because I feel passion for your company (no not even a semi, here). Nor do I feel that working in a call centre trying to flog shitty insurance products (or whatever it is you people do, I couldn't decipher your advertisement or the corporate-speke on your site). No, I want a job because I've dragged my ass the length of the country and am currently living off of my girlfriend like a leech, mostly because the government isn't giving me enough money to keep myself fed and such. This is normally where I type down a bunch of platitudes that everyone seems to think prospective employees should write to make themselves seem attractive. Basically, if you hire me, I'll work my ass off to keep it. What more could you really ask for?

I've worked in various types of jobs in my time. From packing freshly baked "pies" on a factory line for an extremely dubious company to supervising a bar for a friend of mine who was managing an alread sinking and exploding ship before I joined up. I've done shitty jobs my entire working life, and I know how to do them well.

If you actually read my CV, you will note that I've been out of work for a while. It's really not my fault that I lost my shit and got thrown in a Psychiatric Ward, and that until recently I wasn't allowed to work. It wasn't like I was idle in that time though. It's just that writing shit like "I know exactly who I am now. I have such a high degree of self awareness that I can actually freak out my Psychiatrist." on a CV. I can't really write any of the shit down on my CV that I've done over the last few years, because I can't provide an official bit of paper saying that I have.

Well anyway. Give me a job! Save my relationship and my short to medium term future! I'll be so fucking grateful that I won't even bitch about you for at least 6 months. I promise...

I look forward to hearing from you soon.

S. Payne (The Motherfucking Messiah)
0*********9
*******@googlemail.com

12
So, we are running the fourth iteration of DoD in a few weeks time in Edinburgh. Last year there was an obvious issue with the traditional "let's all just get drunk" faction and the progressive "we're a group of Discordians, lets do Discordian things" cult.

Aaaaaanyway, in discussion with Pixie last night she thought some form of distribution of memes and such in return for beer would perhaps work out. Like "You can only have a drink after you've said one of these bizarre statements to a random stranger".

I'm pretty short on such ideas though. The best I've come up with so far is "Excuse me sir, your duck appears to have fled". Which sucks.

The only thing I would say is seeing as we're going to be in a Scottish pub for at least a few of these things, please to avoid anything too controversial with regards to Religion, Politics or Scottish Football.

13
...until I have to catch a bus to get me to Southampton where I will be for the next couple weeks. Ask me anything!

14
This year, we are thinking of changing the Edinburgh date from August 23rd (or closest Saturday to) to a mid-june date - the reasons being numerous and based mostly on cost and availability of accomodation in Edinburgh in August.

I have chosen the date Saturday 12th June for now, though this is up for being changed if enough people need it to be. Discussion of DoD is as usual still mostly done on the dedicated board on POEE, but for exposure to more people who may or may not want to come up for it I'm posting it here too.

NOTE: There are still plans to run a second DoD event in the southron reaches of the UK this year, most likely around the traditional August date. As I will probably have my hands full with "Movin' To Southampton" plans around that time it may make more sense for someone else to arrange it.

15
Hai you spags! Tis the double headed Payne Pix monster back in full effect! Me (pix) is much calmer and feeling less mad nao Payne has arrived. His journey was FAR too eventful, there were fights arrests and everything. None involving him, and my maternal household actually figured out what to do about me turning 30 on friday without me having to mediate and the squat party in my head kicking off again. Fuckers dont invite me and i cant even have a joint. BASTARDS!

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